Lunacy

by Dan Dillard

  SOMETHING WICCAN THIS WAY COMES

  John Phillip Cameron is deceased. He ain't coming back. That much is certain, but everything else has been up in the air since that day. I know this because while I watched, my little brother looked up at me with nothing in his eyes. He'd never done that before. That little boy still had new eyes until that moment. Not grown up eyes, but new. When you looked into them they sparkled, still had wonder and amazement inside. Not full up on disappointment and boredom like folks get once they lived a little while. Those eyes were blank as a clean chalkboard at the grammar school and they'll haunt me to the day I pass on, maybe longer.

  You might not believe all this started when I first saw that yellow van. Well, it was yellow. Now it stares at me out of all those rust rimmed bullet holes, like it knows something about me. Something I didn't know about myself. I pass it daily going to and from work and ponder how it could sit there to this day. Still yellow. Still full of holes. The weeds grow up about it and the tires are flat. There might not be anything at all in that engine compartment except maybe for a raccoon or a stray cat, but there it sits.

  Momma had called us in that night. We were already on our way when she hollered. Wasn't a neighborhood we lived in back then, just some cornfields and an old farmhouse we used to walk past. That was our short cut on our way home from the quarry. We'd been jumping into the water at the bottom of that limestone pit all day. Daddy had tied us a rope to an old oak limb before he went to war. There were two big knots in the bottom for us to put our feet on and swing.

  I remember he swung out and fell in that water cackling like a crazy chicken. It took two full weeks of hesitation before I tried it. I was scared of that water, clear as it was. Always thought something was coming to get me, up from the depths. Not John. He went first try, laughing just as crazy as daddy. That was the last thing I remember us all doing together. It makes me sad that both them lights have gone out of the world.

  That brings me back to the van. We had first seen that yellow van coming home from the quarry that night. Even though the sun was setting, it was still mighty hot and heat rose off the ground like the earth was angry, making waves over the pavement, so we cut through the farmland.

  ..ooOOoo..

  "Michael," she'd yell, followed soon after with, "John!"

  Her pitch trailed upward at the end of John as if it was a question. We kept our pace. It was her first call and we were still safe. I could tell at thirteen.

  John was only ten. He hadn't known momma long enough to have her figured. Her first call was always a question. Her next call was stern. If she called a third time we might as well stay out. The beating wouldn't get much worse. I'd only tested that third call once. It was enough.

  The headlights coming up the gravel drive were our first distraction. That drive must've gone on for a mile or more before it reached the highway. I didn't remember seeing a soul come or go from that house ever before that day, so I was interested.

  "John," I whispered. "Come on 'fore they see us."

  He whined back at me as he was getting tired, "Aw, who cares if they see us?"

  "John!"

  "All right already, all right," he said.

  We moved further from the house and into a line of oak trees on the edge of the overgrown property. I watched intently from there as the full-sized yellow van parked and the headlights went out. A shadowy figure stepped from the driver's side and disappeared into the failing light. Then a lamp came on inside the downstairs of the old house. Then another and another. It was as if they were testing the fixtures. That's when momma called a second time with a universal, "Boys!"

  "Come on, Johnny."

  He followed, impressed by the urgency in my voice.

  "Michael?"

  "Yeah." I said.

  "Who you think is in that house?"

  "Dunno, but there goes our shortcut."

  He looked over his shoulder a half dozen times at the old place. I kept hold of his hand to keep him moving in the right direction. That's what brothers are supposed to do.

  We hurried home where momma sat the last of the food on the dinner table. She looked at me with scornful eyes which softened quickly and melted into a mother's smile.

  "You boys find gracious enough trouble for one day?"

  John smiled and scooped some mashed potatoes on his plate.

  "No ma'am, but we'll try again tomorrow," I said.

  "You'll wash your hands before you touch another thing on my table," she said to him.

  He dropped the spoon, left sticking out of his pile of potatoes and did as he was told. Then he sat back down and passed the bowl to me before taking a big bite.

  "Momma, somebody moved into that house over the hill," John said through a mouthful of potatoes.

  "The old farmhouse? It's been empty for years," she replied.

  "I don't know if they've moved in or are just looking," I said. "There was a van out there. Then we saw some body poking around inside with the lights on."

  "You two best stay away from there, now. It's rude to disturb your neighbors."

  "Yes'm," we said in unison.

  "Proud of you boys. Your daddy would be too, God rest him."

  All we could do was nod and smile. Daddy died in the war when John was only four. Truth is, I didn't remember him either much as I was only seven when he didn't come home no more. She was a tough woman, our momma. Still is to this day.

  ..ooOOoo..

  It was several days later when we ventured back into that field. Not on purpose so much as habit, and we'd conveniently forgotten momma's warning. My brother and I trekked through the mud that morning. It had rained all night, cooling the ground and leaving everything freshly rinsed and smelling of all that was right. The old farmhouse stood like a black cardboard cutout against the rising sun and that yellow van was gone. Something was new there. As we walked, the house came out of eclipse, and there was a fresh coat of paint on the boards. The yard had been tidied up as well, and a large section of ground tilled up out back. Four posts stood like soldiers in a square roughly large enough for a small barn. They were wrapped with a string that formed the perimeter of the coming building.

  John ran and ducked underneath.

  "What do you think it's gonna be, Michael?"

  "Barn, most likely," I said.

  "You think it's a farmer living here?"

  "Course. Who else would buy a house like this? Probably owns all this land too."

  "Maybe they'll have some horses. I wonder if they got kids," John said.

  He scratched his head and then spit on the ground.

  "It don't look like it," I said.

  There wasn't anything in that yard that told me there were any kids. Nothing but the paint job said anybody lived there. John looked around and frowned.

  "I suppose you're right."

  His gaze stopped on something in the distance. He often stared into space so it didn't upset me until he said, "Run."

  Then he took off like a dragster. I followed and didn't look until we were just behind that farmhouse. I saw the yellow van coming down the dirt road. Its headlights were on, which made it look like it was scanning the landscape for intruders. We could scarcely hear the V-8 engine rumbling over our own gasps for air. Then the motor stopped, then the door creaked open and slammed shut.

  "Hello?"

  It was an older woman's voice and didn't sound angry, but pleasant.

  "Hello?" it repeated.

  John grabbed my arm and whispered, "What do we do?"

  I looked in either direction. She'd seen us run, whoever she was. John started to tear up, pleading with his eyes for me to save him. For whatever reason, I gave up. Something just made me stand up and walk out in the open. The woman who stood there shocked me.

  She looked like the Mother Nature I'd always pictured in my mind. Her hair was long with gray streaks amongst its black strands. It was tethered together somewhere between her shoulder blades, keeping it out o
f her face. She wore round purple sunglasses and had on a smock that was covered with paint smudges like we wore in art class at school. Pudgy legs stuck out from her shorts like you saw on an African safari and sandals clung to her feet.

  "Good morning," she said.

  I stood frozen. John stayed put, tears of terror spilling from his eyes.

  "Well, there's nothing to be afraid of, or can you just not speak?" she said.

  "Um, no ma'am. I can speak."

  "Then it is a good morning. Wouldn't you say?"

  She smiled and went to the back of her van to open the doors. Inside there was lumber, paint and other supplies.

  "Ma'am, I'm sorry, we didn't know anyone was living here."

  The lady turned, a concerned look on her face. "Were you under the impression I was angry? Not at all. Say, while you're here, give me a hand with this stuff. You look mighty strong. Tell your friend to come out from around the corner. I could use as many hands as possible. Many hands make light work, right?"

  I looked at John, whose eyes were round like soccer balls. He stood up slowly. Then the woman looked to the sky and touched her chin.

  "But he isn't a friend at all, is he? Your brother perhaps?"

  My voice shook.

  "Yes, ma'am, he's my brother, John. I'm Michael."

  "Michael and John. Good solid names. What are you doing over here, Michael and John?"

  John came around the corner wiping his cheeks. His eyes were still propped open wide.

  "Ma'am, we were going to the quarry. It's just over that hill. Full of water, it's fun to jump in."

  She smiled a grand smile.

  "I bet that is fun. I'm afraid I'm a bit too old for such things. My name is Miss Ruby. John, you can stop worrying. I'm not gonna eat you or anything."

  John got a little giggle and I could see the blood come back to his pale face.

  "Give an old lady a hand, boys. This lumber isn't gonna walk out of here. Wish I knew a spell for that."

  My brother and I exchanged a silly glance and then we each grabbed an armful of supplies from the van.

  "Just set them up there on the porch, boys. Lots of work to do."

  "You paint the house all by yourself?" I asked.

  "Much of it. I hired a couple boys not much older than you two to help me. You live around here? Might just earn yourselves a little pocket money if you help me tidy this place up."

  Our eyes lit up. There hadn't been much of any money since daddy died. The Army paid for some things, but there wasn't any for fun an' games.

  "Sure thing, Miss Ruby," John said.

  Ruby put her hands on her hips and looked around. The sun was burning off the clouds already that morning.

  "Well, we can get started by painting the trim around these windows and the porch railings," she said.

  "What about that barn? You need a hand with that, don't you?" I asked.

  I liked to build things and daddy had shown me how to use a saw and a hammer. Ruby looked back toward that piece of tilled land that was roped off. The joy on her face turned to concern.

  "Oh no, hon. That one is mine and mine alone to complete."

  Her face quickly went back to a smile. I felt that grin was for our benefit and instead of asking more questions, I grabbed a bucket of paint and a brush and got to work. John did the same, carrying a rag beneath his hand so as not to drip on the porch. Within a couple hours, the trim and porch rails had a fresh coat of white paint that went nicely with the light blue of the house. Ruby spent most of her time supervising, but she did wander back to the roped off base for that barn. She was talking to herself as she walked around inside those four posts.

  Next, she had us pulling weeds. John was handed a shovel asked to dig under the front windows. I helped him plant a few flowers and shrubs. As we finished up she came outside with two cold bottles of pop and handed us each one along with a five dollar bill.

  "You boys worked hard today. I thank you for that," she said.

  We smiled at her and at each other. It was a good deal of money to have at the time. She patted our heads and then her attention was on the road. A dust cloud was billowing up on her long gravel driveway. That meant another car was coming.

  "That's my block," she said.

  As the cloud approached, we could make out two trucks, flat beds loaded with cinder block. I recognized them from the lumberyard in town. Mr. Solomon and his son, Theodore, did the deliveries for them. I knew Theo from school. Momma said I shouldn't be friends with him cause he was black, but I liked Theo. John did too. He had an older sister who was mean an' nasty, but Theo was all right in my book.

  "Michael, John, I can't thank you boys enough for helping me. If you want to work some tomorrow, come back by. Always something to do around here. Right now, I have my own work to do."

  Her smile was genuine, but there was a darkness behind it. Like when an elderly person tells you they feel fine and you know they are tired and sick. She looked back toward the tilled patch of ground again and then to the sky.

  "Ok, Miss Ruby. We'll see you tomorrow, then," John said.

  As we walked on toward the quarry, we drank our sodas. I saw Miss Ruby pointing and directing a man I didn't recognize, as well as Mr. Solomon and my friend Theo, just as she had done with me and John. She was telling them where to stack those blocks-two truck beds full of them. They got to work immediately.

  John and I stripped down to our skivvies and cooled off at the quarry for an hour or more, jumping from the rock ledges or chasing turtles. We swam and dove and climbed around and then headed home with stubbed toes and scraped knees. A grand day on anyone's scale.

  We went home the long way that evening, walking on the road. I was quiet the whole way, satisfied and sore in my legs and shoulders. John chattered on about everything he had seen.

  "Michael, what are you gonna do with your money?" he asked.

  "Probably save it. Maybe get momma something new."

  "You think she'll give us five dollars tomorrow too?"

  I hadn't considered that.

  "Maybe. Shit, that'd be twenty dollars between us."

  John giggled at my profanity and his eyes sparkled with possibility. I could see his mind wandering to a new level.

  "Let's save up until we could buy something huge," he said.

  I nodded and the deal was done. I still wanted to do something nice for momma. Maybe we would take her out for dinner or to a movie. The sun was releasing its grip on the day and the cicadas were screaming. When we walked in the house, dinner was on the table and smelled fantastic. Neither of us mentioned where we'd been or the fact that we had earned a little money. When bed time came, sleep gathered us in its dark, fluffy arms and pulled us under in a flash.

  ..ooOOoo..

  It was hardly eight o'clock the next morning before we were standing on the edge of Miss Ruby's property. The soldier posts and twine now surrounded a poured concrete floor and several pallets of block. That woman was standing in front of it, looking on, her hands curled on her hips as she talked to the sky. We couldn't hear her except for a mumble, but she sounded upset.

  "Need some help?" John shouted.

  Ruby turned and quickly hid her distress behind a grin.

  "Good morning, boys. It's too early, come on inside. I baked some muffins."

  I grabbed John's arm before he got to a full sprint.

  "Miss Ruby, if it's all the same, we're not supposed to go into strangers' houses," I said.

  She pursed out her lips.

  "That, my boy, is a good policy. Tell ya what. You and your brother have a seat on the porch, and I'll bring you some."

  I let go of John's arm. He darted to the porch and sat down. Ruby laughed at his enthusiasm and struggled against her age and her weight in order to climb the wooden steps. I squatted next to him and listened to the clinking and panging of pans and cups through the screened door. When Ruby returned with blueberry muffins and orange juice, I thought John might explode.
<
br />   I was hungry myself. We'd skipped breakfast to get there so early in hopes of making some more money. Ruby watched us with the sort of joy a mother gets from watching her child eat. She joined us with a groan, sitting on the edge of the porch, feet dangling, and sipped from a cup of coffee. I stared at her, an odd woman with a flower in her stringy hair and a homemade beaded necklace on.

  "Something wrong Michael? Do I look funny to you?" she asked.

  It struck me so strange that she knew what I was thinking ? that she knew John was my brother before she'd even seen him. There was a family resemblance neither of us could deny, but she hadn't even seen him.

  "Different, I guess, not funny."

  "Heh heh, yes. I guess I am," she said.

  "Not a bad thing. I just never saw anyone look quite like you."

  "Your mother doesn't dress like me?"

  She smiled and I knew she was joking. John didn't.

  "Nope. Momma don't look nothing like you," he said.

  "What about your father? What does he do for a living?"

  She immediately knew she'd said something wrong and patted him on the knee.

  "Daddy's dead," he said and kicked the deck with the heel of his dangling shoe.

  "Killed in Vietnam. 'Bout five years ago."

  Ruby's eyes welled with salty tears.

  "I'm so sorry boys. Explains why you two are so strong, you've been through a lot."

  "I guess," I answered.

  We each took the last bites of our muffins.

  "What's going in that barn, anyway? Horses?"

  My question took her by surprise. I caught her cringing before she answered, choosing careful words for her response.

  "No. It's not big enough for horses. I just have a lot of things to store. My things aren't all here yet, but they're coming. I need that building done so I'll have somewhere to put them. I'm just not as young as I used to be, so it's taking a bit longer than I'd planned."

  "How high are those walls gonna be?" John asked.

  "Six feet ought to do it. Then a tin roof above that to finish it off."

  "We can help you stack that block, Miss Ruby. Helped my daddy build a pump house for our well outta block like that," I said.

  She interrupted, "No no. That is something I need to do. You boys don't need worry yourselves about that barn."

  Ruby strained, pushing her hand on her thigh in order to straighten her back. She brushed crumbs from her lap and the bottom of her shirt, then pulled her hair back behind her and resituated it with a clip.

  "Ready to work? I've got a garden planned out in the back that could use some shoveling and raking."

  John shook his head. I knew he was excited for another payday. I was too. Ruby dumped an armload of tools at our feet.

  "Rakes and shovels, and there's a hoe in there as well. I need you boys to dig up that patch over there. Make a square for me and dig it about six inches down."

  "What are you planting?"

  John grabbed a shovel and began to dig up the soft ground.

  "Tomatoes and beans mostly. Maybe a pumpkin or two for later in the year."

  John frowned, "I don't like tomatoes or beans."

  "You'll like these. Mine are magic," she said.

  John's mouth dropped open and Ruby laughed at his na?ve innocence.

  "Dummy," I said. "No such thing as magic."

  "There isn't?" she asked.

  "Course not."

  "Then how do you explain all of this wonderful around you?"

  John looked around following her waving hands.

  "Momma says God made it."

  "She sounds like a very smart woman."

  "What do you believe?" I asked.

  She looked around and then back at me and John.

  "I believe that the earth is the most wonderful place in the universe. I believe we are part of her and that we owe her everything. She gives us shelter, and food, and light, and beauty and warmth."

  "What about in the winter? It's cold in the winter," John said.

  "You're right about that. But we're given the tools we need to build a fire, or knit a sweater."

  He seemed satisfied with her answer and went back to shoveling.

  "She also says daddy is in heaven watching over us."

  "She's right. But he's also in that tree, and in the air. He is all around you."

  "I like that," I said and John nodded in agreement.

  "I won't tell you how you should think, boys. I just think a little different."

  With that, she left us to our task and went to the concrete slab. We dug while she stacked blocks on the slab, bedding each new one in some fresh mortar. It was hard work, too hard for an old woman. She moved slowly, but in the three hours we spent digging her garden, she pieced together the puzzle of the first few rows at her own methodical pace. Then she came to check on us.

  "Looks good boys," she said, panting.

  "Ready to plant," John added.

  She instructed us on where to place the seeds. Two rows of beans and one row of squash. She said the tomato plants were at the store. She would go buy them and plant them herself.

  "You sure you don't need any more help?"

  "Not today, Michael," she said.

  Then she handed us each another five dollar bill from her pocket. John danced around with his and Miss Ruby laughed at him.

  "I hope you enjoy that, John."

  She patted me on the shoulder and said her goodbyes. We put the garden tools back into the small shed at the back of her house. She was halfway down the drive in that yellow van by the time we were done.

  "John?"

  "What?"

  "Let's finish that brick wall for her."

  John looked at the stacks of bricks on the ground.

  "Nah," he said.

  "She's too old to be doing that kinda work. Help me out."

  He frowned.

  "Come on. We can be done by the time she gets back. She fed us and gave us each ten dollars so far."

  He considered the situation and then stuffed his money away into his cutoff Levi's. I explained how much sand and how much cement to put in the wheelbarrow. Then he stirred the mix with some water from her hose. Before long we were stacking and leveling the Gray blocks like we'd done with wooden toy blocks at home.

  Row by row, the wall got higher. We propped it up with a few two-by-fours that were lying next to the structure. That was something daddy had taught me. Once the bricks were head high, I stacked some to stand on and do the last row.

  The yellow van was coming down the road again as we braced the last piece of lumber against the cinder blocks. I don't remember ever feeling so proud one moment, and so embarrassed and confused the next. When Miss Ruby stepped from the van, her face was a picture of horror.

  "What have you boys done?"

  I thought she was just shocked. I hoped her next emotion would be thankfulness. It was not.

  "What have you boys done?" she repeated.

  "We helped. You needed help and we helped," I said.

  John was busy chasing a toad around the shrubs.

  "You helped? I asked her for strength. I asked her for protection for you. This? This was my burden, my penance. She can't help you, not now."

  I was confused and John looked at her like she'd gone crazy.

  "Who? Who is she?"

  "The goddess. I need her blessing for that building to work. For it to hold. I prayed on every brick. It was my sweat-my blood that was to build that vessel."

  John wandered off after something, bored with her grown up talk. He didn't understand or care what she was saying. Miss Ruby was crazed, stumbling about and stammering like a drunk. I had no idea what she was talking about but it scared me.

  "John, come on. We need to go."

  "Just a minute. I gotta get this frog," he said.

  She shook her head and put one hand on her brow in frustration. Then she took a deep breath and sighed.

  "Michael, I didn't mean to sc
are you. I apologize. Sometimes Miss Ruby doesn't explain herself well."

  I looked at her from the corner of my eye.

  "You said goddess."

  "Yes, I did. The earth is my goddess. I pray to her."

  "That's weird."

  "Different. Not weird. I don't want you to be scared. I'm a good person, I've just done something bad and it's my responsibility, my burden to carry, hon."

  "We just helped you put your barn up."

  "I know and I appreciate the help. But now you're involved. Now I don't know if I can protect you."

  "From what?"

  She stared at the bricks in those small barn walls for an uncomfortable amount of time.

  "You'll have to let me think on this. You'll have to let me speak to her and wait for her answer."

  "I don't understand, Miss Ruby. We just wanted to help you."

  "I know, child."

  She ran her fingers along the runs of damp mortar and inspected our work. I followed keeping an eye on her. Finally John joined us, frog in hand. He laughed as it peed on him and he almost dropped it.

  "Yuck," he said.

  "Boys," she said. "I need for you two to stay away from here for two days. Come back on the third morning and I will tell you my story. Keep happy thoughts."

  "I don't understand," I said.

  "I know. I hope you don't have to."

  She ducked under the bracing lumber and went through the opening in the bricks where a door would soon be. I grabbed John by the elbow and dragged him off the property and toward home.

  "Hey, what'd you do?" he asked.

  "I didn't do anything."

  "She said stay away for two days. You had to do something."

  "I don't know. Something about that barn. Today's Tuesday, we'll come back Friday morning."

  "Is it magic?"

  I started to frown and then wondered myself.

  "Could be, John. I dunno."

  "She gonna pay us for all that work?"

  "Didn't do it for money. Jus' trying to help out," I replied.

  He looked upset. Not good business working for free, our daddy used to say. He paid us for all of our chores. Just a little, but that was his philosophy. My hands were dry and they ached from placing the sharp block, from gripping the trowel, from mixing the mortar. When I looked back, I could see Miss Ruby walking around the building, pleading with her hands and shouting to the sky.

 

  ..ooOOoo..

  We decided that next morning twenty dollars was enough to take momma to dinner. Pizza in town, of course, and she was full of questions before our food arrived.

  "Where ever did you get that much money?"

  "We've been doing odd jobs for the old lady in that farm house across the hill," I said.

  "The one with the yellow van," John added.

  "Odd jobs?"

  "Painting, planting in her garden and helping her build a barn."

  "Build a barn!"

  The patrons in the table across from us looked over in surprise. Momma flushed and shuffled in her seat.

  "She's old, momma. Don't need to be stacking block for a shed."

  Momma smiled like she was proud of us for helping.

  "You are my sweet babies," she said. "And she paid you for that?"

  "All except for the block. She got mad about that, said it was her burden to carry. Something about a goddess."

  She furrowed her brow and said, "Goddess?"

  "Yep. I was catching a frog and she was babbling on about worshipping the earth, and how she couldn't protect us cause we blocked up that barn," John said, much to my disappointment.

  Momma looked upset when she spoke her next words.

  "Maybe you should stay away from there. She sounds?unstable."

  "No, momma, she's ok. She makes the best blueberry muffins, and her yard is full of frogs?" John started.

  "Okay, John, okay."

  "She's a nice lady, momma. Just a little strange. She asked if we could come back on Friday morning for some more work."

  "I don't know, boys. Maybe I should go and meet her? Miss Ruby, you say?"

  "Yes, ma'am."

  She drummed her fingers on the table and took a sip of her iced tea. Sweat beads ran down the side of the glass and dripped onto the table. John and I had both finished our sodas and were waiting on seconds.

  "I think I need to talk to her. See what she's all about."

  John's intereste in the conversation grew.

  "You have to let us go! What if she pays us again?"

  Momma smiled.

  "We'll see, Johnny," she said.

  Then the pizza came and we were all distracted. I let John pay the tab when the waitress came back. It made him feel important. He even gave her a dollar tip.

  Thinking back, pizza would not have been momma's first choice, but she acted like it was. She pretended that was the best meal she'd ever had.

  ..ooOOoo..

  I don't know what exactly was said between my mother and Miss Ruby that next morning, but Momma was home early. She must've left at sun up. The cracking sound the storm door made when it slammed pulled me right out of my morning cartoons.

  Momma hung her sweater up and stormed past the living room on her way to the kitchen. I heard cups rattle and cabinet doors whack and creak on old hinges. When I peeked around the corner, I saw my mother's hair dangling and ragged. Normally it was in a nicely twirled bun and pinned meticulously in place. When she turned, her face was flushed and her brow wrinkled so an iron wouldn't smooth it out. That's when she noticed I was standing there. She slammed down her coffee mug.

  "Did she feed you anything?" she said.

  Then she grabbed my face and pulled up each eyelid, one by one with her thumb, examining me for some malady.

  "Just some muffins, I think."

  She rubbed her fingers through my hair, inspecting me as if I was a prisoner entering the general population. Then she hugged me in an almost violent manner and went back to her coffee mug, cursing the Mr. Coffee on the counter.

  "Damn you. Hurry up."

  "Momma?"

  She didn't hear me, or was ignoring me. I looked back at Johnny, still engrossed in the primary colored animation on the TV, and then stepped toward her.

  "Mom?" I said.

  This time a bit deeper, trying to sound older.

  "Is something?"

  "A witch," she interrupted.

  Then much louder, "A damned witch!"

  I wasn't sure what to say or what to do. She placed a hand on my head again and her chest shuddered as she took a deep breath.

  "Are you mad at us?"

  Her hand slid lovingly from the top of my head to my cheek and she tried to smile.

  "No. No dear, I'm just a bit frightened. Who knows what that woman? that witch, has done to you two?"

  "She hasn't done anything to us, Momma. We just helped her work around her yard, and she paid us a few dollars."

  "No. No no no! You aren't to go to that house anymore."

  Her hand smacked on her thigh with each subsequent 'no' as if she were a child having a tantrum. That's when John came in.

  "I'm hungry, Momma. What's for breakfast?"

  Again, her stern face melted into a teary smile, but that time she hugged my brother.

  "I'll make some pancakes. How's that sound?"

  John's face bounced up and down as if he was a puppy wagging his tail for a treat. My stomach grumbled a little as well. The jingle from the commercial break stopped, signaling his show was coming back on and he trotted back to his seat on the floor. Momma gave me another look as she pulled flour and milk from their homes in the fridge and the pantry. I knew what it meant.

  I went back to the living room and pushed the power button on the television.

  "Hey!"

  "Johnny, we gotta talk," I said.

  He popped up and turned the TV back on. I switched it once more. When he jumped up a second time, I grabbed him by the arm and led him tow
ard our bedroom.

  "You're hurting me," he shouted.

  "Shhh. I need to talk to you."

  When we reached our room, he settled, curiosity getting the best of him.

  "What?" he said.

  "Momma said we can't go to Miss Ruby's anymore."

  His eye widened and he grunted in defiance.

  "That's not fair. Why not?"

  I reached around him to close the bedroom door.

  "She says Miss Ruby is a witch."

  "That's stupid. She just looks like a grandma. Witches are green."

  I knew better, but didn't say anything. If I could keep him distracted for a few days, he would find something else to spark his interest. Keeping myself distracted was going to be the hard part.

  "We'll find something else to do. Maybe we could build that tree fort we been talking about."

  He raised one eyebrow. "Can I use the hammer?"

  "Long as you don't smash my fingers."

  "Deal."

  Then he was out the door, headed to dad's toolbox. I guess at that point, it was my toolbox. He had the whole thing lugged into the back yard by the time I got there. I stopped to check on mom once more. She had her hair twisted back up where it normally lived and was sipping coffee and flipping pancakes. I heard her humming 'Amazing Grace'. That meant things were okay in her world. I gave her a hug around her waist and then went to the back door.

  "Breakfast in ten minutes. Tell your brother. Then you can play. Stay in the yard today, will you?"

  "Sure momma. We're going to build a tree house."

  She smiled and scooped another stack onto a plate that she placed in the oven to keep warm.

  "Ten minutes."

  ..ooOOoo..

  After breakfast, we surveyed the tree line at the edge of our property. It was far enough from the house to let our imaginations run and it kept our mother happy. There was a sturdy maple with three limbs level enough to hold a simple framework of two by fours. We started by nailing simple steps to the trunk.

  "Why does mom think Miss Ruby's a witch?"

  "I don't know, Johnny."

  "Didn't she say?"

  It was odd that she hadn't told me. Momma was good for telling me the truth. Once daddy died, she stopped keeping things from me. I guess she thought I had grown up a lot, or that I needed to know the world was not always kind.

  "No. She just said we couldn't go anymore. I think she was scared."

  "Scared? Momma don't get scared."

  "She was today."

  We took turns driving nails using scrap pieces from a wood pile and some leftover plywood until there was a floor to stand on. By that afternoon, we'd framed up two walls. The discussion changed to football and comic books, then to television shows. As the sun went down, we pulled a plastic tarp over the roof in case of rain and went inside for the night. That was Tuesday.

  On Wednesday, we finished the roof-even put some shingles and tar paper we had left over from a repair on the house. There were two windows. One faced the house and the other faced in the direction of Miss Ruby's house. Once the trees shed their leaves, I figured we might be able to see the old farm house and the bright yellow van.

  Then we found a can of brown paint that suited us and coated the outside. Johnny painted a swipe down my back.

  "Ass!"

  "Ooh, you said 'ass'," he taunted.

  "So did you."

  He thought for a moment and then started giggling. I joined him.

  We hinged some shutters on the windows with rope and hooks so we could close ourselves in if it rained. The last thing to build was the ladder.

  By Thursday afternoon we took turns protecting the fortress. One stayed inside while the other stood on the ground and tossed a football or a soccer ball at our masterpiece. It made us happy for hours. When the sun went down, we stole some snacks and a flashlight from the house.

  "Can we camp in the fort?"

  "No," momma said. "I mean I don't know. Is it safe?"

  "Come see, momma," Johnny plead. "It's rock solid."

  She mussed his hair. "Rock solid, huh?"

  "Yep," I said.

  Johnny grabbed her hand and pulled. She laughed and walked with him to the edge of the yard.

  "Stop pulling, John Philip. I'm coming."

  He showed her to the tree. A simple wooden box just big enough for the two of us to sit comfortably in perched six feet off the ground, nested among the branches. Momma was a good enough sport to climb our rickety ladder. She weighed less than I did so it was no problem.

  When she poked her head inside, I heard her laugh out loud.

  "You have furniture and everything in here," she said.

  We'd used a pair of small wooden apple crates as chairs. Next to them was another crate which was turned on end, pretending it was a table. There was a deck of playing cards, freshly shuffled, on top. On the walls were a handful of baseball cards we'd tacked up as decorations.

  Her smile spread wide across her face, she pulled herself inside and Johnny crawled in after her. I stayed in the yard knowing we wouldn't all fit. Johnny's head popped out from the hatch in the bottom.

  "She said okay!"

  I heard mom ask him to move.

  "Let me get out of here and I'll make you some food for the adventure," she said.

  When I saw her feet on the ladder, I went to help.

  "I'm all right. I've climbed a tree or two before."

  "We'll be fine, momma."

  "I know, Michael. You boys have camped out here before. I just wanted to make sure this thing wasn't gonna fall out with you in it. Looks like you're both handy like your father."

  It made me smile to hear that. It made me proud.

  "Momma," I said, checking to make sure John couldn't hear us.

  "Yes?"

  "Do you believe in witches? Real witches?"

  She knelt down and looked me square in the eyes.

  "Your great-grandfather told me a story when I was about your age."

  She patted some dirt off of my shirt while she spoke.

  "He was the sheriff in a little town down south and one summer, a man came to his office complaining of a witch."

  My eyelids stretched to their limits, and I remained perfectly still anticipating her next words.

  "That man told your great-granddad the woman had put a curse on him and his farm, and that his crops hadn't come in like they always had. He expected the sheriff to do something about it," she said.

  "What did he do?" I asked.

  "He rode out to that woman's house that evening about sundown and knocked on her door. When no one answered, he walked around the house, looking in through the windows and checking out the property. Once he was in the backyard, he heard a noise."

  "A noise?" I asked. She shushed me with a look.

  "He turned around and saw a wild hog, staring at him. It snorted real loud and charged after him."

  "What did he do?"

  "Well, he shot that hog. He pulled out his pistol and shot it."

  "Did he kill it?" I asked.

  "No. He got it in the leg. But it had scared him so bad, he just left it there and got on his horse, and rode back into town. The scare kept him awake all that night. But the strange part was the next day. He saw that witch-woman the very next day? and she was walking with a limp."

  I couldn't find enough air to fill my lungs? Then momma smiled at me, amused by my excitement.

  "That's not true, momma," I said.

  "My had to God. Your great-granddad told that story to all of us kids. Told us not to take for granted things that weren't real. Said there was monsters in this world as evil as any story book. They just didn't always look like monsters."

  "Is that true?"

  "Yes, baby. I'm afraid it is."

  John hollered from the tree-house window, "What's going on down there? Michael!"

  "Be right up," I shouted back.

  Momma and I shared a moment where she looked in my eyes,
trying to figure out if I was scared or not. In the mean time, John was climbing down the ladder.

  "You all right?" momma asked me.

  "I'm fine."

  "Well, go have fun."

  John and I ran in the house. We bundled our sleeping bags and a couple board games and dug some batteries out of a couple toys so we could have a working radio. Momma filled paper sacks with sandwiches and chips and she gave each of us a bottle of soda. It was what we had come to know as camping.

  The sun set a little earlier that night as summer was ending. We were finishing our sandwiches, but saved the chips and soda for later. I could hear the frogs and crickets spinning up for their evening song when a gentle knock came at the floor of the fort. Johnny poked his head out the window, still chewing.

  "Who goes there?"

  "Your mother. Blow me a kiss," she said.

  He did as he was told with a peanut butter smeared chin.

  "Ok, love you. Now, Michael?"

  I pulled my brother out of the way and looked out at her.

  "Night mom. Love you."

  She put a hand to her lips and sent it skyward. Then she was gone. We stacked our table and chairs in one corner and spread out our sleeping bags. The tiny radio filled the small space with noise, and playing cards by flashlight kept us busy going fish. After an hour or so, I saw the light in my mother's bedroom wink out.

  Johnny set up one of the board games as an obstacle course for a matchbox car. He always had one in his pocket. Thankfully, this time, he'd brought two and we took turns smashing them into the tiny game pieces, pretending they were little soldiers ? then aliens ? then monsters.

  "Die! Die! Die!" he exclaimed.

  In his enthusiasm, he knocked the flashlight over and the top popped off, spilling batteries everywhere. It took a second for my eyes to adjust to the moonlight spilling in the window, but I found my pack and pulled out a second lamp and flipped the switch.

  "Turn that off, Michael," Johnny said.

  "Why?"

  "Just do it."

  He was staring out the other window of the tree house. I flipped my flashlight off and moved to join him.

  "What is that?" he asked.

  "What?"

  At first I didn't see it. Then something fluttered. In the distance, through the leaves, I could see a glow. It wasn't a fire, the color was all wrong. It was blue, and swirled up into the sky the way a spotlight did at the county fair. The breeze moved the branches about, teasing us with glimpses of something magical.

  "What time is it, Michael?"

  I looked at my watch under the flashlight.

  "It's after midnight, why?"

  He looked at me as if it was a stupid question, and it was.

  "Don't you wanna know what it is?"

  "That's coming from Miss Ruby's house," I said. "We're not supposed to go over there."

  He stared out the window again.

  "Come on Michael. She aingt no witch. She never hurt us or even said anything mean."

  "Momma would kill us."

  I believed that as much as I believed anything.

  "Can't we just go check? Then we'll come right back. She'll never know."

  My gut said no, but something inside me said I would never sleep if I didn't find out what that glowing was.

  ..ooOOoo..

  "Michael, wait up."

  I couldn't seem to control my feet. I'd been running at a full sprint since my feet touched ground back at our fort. We'd left everything except for one flashlight. I felt if I'd stopped running, I might not start again, but I managed to slow enough for my brother to catch me.

  We stutter-stepped to the bottom of a shallow valley and then struggled to get to the top of the hill on the other side. The ground was uneven from decades of growing corn and soybeans and it was tough to navigate in the dark. Once on top of that hill, we could see something few have seen.

  A glowing blue haze danced about a glowing green haze like a tornado someone had lit on fire. Both emanated from that cinder block barn at the back of Miss Ruby's property. Our feet scrambled for a closer look. Fifty yards closer, we could see Miss Ruby. She waved her arms and stamped her feet as if she were leading the ghostly mist around a ballroom floor.

  Fifty more yards, and we could hear her speaking. Calling out, as if for help, to some name I do not recall. Her face was transfixed into an expression of the purest concentration. Tears streamed from her eyes.

  We approached carefully. I managed to take my gaze off of her long enough to check on my brother. Johnny looked up into the sky, mesmerized by the swirling light. There were tiny lights floating about in the mist like fireflies. Miss Ruby continued her conversation.

  "Please, protect the boys. They didn't know."

  Johnny turned to me, "Is she talking about us?"

  "Shh."

  Then I whispered, "She'll hear us."

  "You think she's a witch now?"

  I only shook my head. I didn't know what she was. Witch, to me, meant green and warty.

  Ruby turned away from the barn. She knelt and began to plead.

  "It can't be too late. This was my fault and I'm prepared for the consequences."

  As I strained to hear her, I'd have sworn I could hear another voice. As if the wind itself was hissing in response.

  "They're here," it said.

  Ruby stood and spun around, scanning the area. Johnny and I dropped to the ground as quietly as possible. Then she raised her arms and light shone from the palms of her hands. Johnny screamed.

  "Boys. I won't harm you, but if you're there I need to see you. He is coming."

  Then the wind hissed again.

  "He is here," it said.

  "Boys, over here. Now!"

  We ran to her. For fear of what she was, and for fear of what she feared. How could someone with magical power be afraid and what sort of creature could scare her?

  "Miss Ruby, what is all this?"

  She pulled us into the blue and green haze and patted our heads.

  "I'm glad you're here Michael, John. I can keep you safe here."

  "Safe from what?" I asked.

  She looked off into the distance as if thinking, searching for the right words. Then I realized she was watching for something, scanning the dark horizon.

  "Boys, a long time ago, I wasn't as wise as I am now. I was reckless and stupid and I did something I'm not proud of," she said.

  The blue and green haze continued to swirl around us as she spoke. John clung to me, staring at it in horror and amazement.

  "What did you do, Miss Ruby?" he asked.

  "Someone hurt me, John. A very bad man."

  "What did he do?" he asked.

  "He did things you don't need to know about, hon. Just know he was bad. What I did may have been worse. I should have called the police, but instead, I called on the Goddess for help."

  "Did she help?"

  "She did what I asked, but I was so angry? I didn't understand what it was I was asking. And I'll pay the rest of my life for it. I just hope you two boys won't have to live with any part of it."

  She paused to look around, squinting her eyes, and shining light with her hands on the edges of the old farm land.

  "I want to go home," I said. "Let me take John home."

  "Wait a minute, Michael. Let me make sure it's safe. Let me make sure it isn't here."

  Then the wind picked up, howling and spinning, and within it, I heard a voice whisper, "He is here."

  John shook in my arms, and I was plenty scared myself.

  "Who is here?" he said.

  Miss Ruby stepped in front of us.

  "Leave these boys alone. You are my burden. You deal with me!"

  It hissed back at her, whatever it was, and said, "You owe me, old woman, but they will do."

  "No!" she shouted.

  Lightning flashed brilliant purple, punctuating her command and she fell to the ground. The green and blue haze dimmed. Ruby lay, panting, on the groun
d. Her eyes fluttered for a moment before she sat back up.

  "What the hell was that, Miss Ruby?"

  She stared at me a minute before answering my question.

  "It was my monster. It was what I called upon when I was selfish and stupid."

  "You called it to hurt that bad man?" John said.

  "Yes, John. And it will be back. You boys should go home now. It will be back."

  "Is this why you built that barn? For protection?" I asked.

  "That barn is like a prison, Michael. It was my prison to build, my magic to hold that devil. I've built three already, but it is smart. It escapes faster each time. This time it will take stronger magic to hold it."

  John was crying, tugging on me. "Michael, I wanna go home."

  "Go on, Michael. You have time. I'm tired, hon, and it's going to be a long night."

  I turned to take John home and looked into the most hideous face I've ever seen. Something more horrible than any late-night monster movie grinned at me from outside the blue and green mist. Never ending teeth criss-crossed in its mouth, and horns popped through huge, festering sores on its head. John screamed. Something inside me died at that moment.

  Miss Ruby grabbed us in her arms and pulled us away from the grinning demon. She held up a hand and shined her magic on it and it darted back into the night.

  "Boys, you stay with me now. I can't protect you if you leave."

  "Where is it?" John asked, over and over.

  "I've got you," I told him, trying to sound sure of myself.

  Nothing has ever scared me like that thing that night. And suddenly it was back, grinning at us again from the other side.

  "They look tasty," it said, its voice bellowing and dark.

  Miss Ruby was chanting something, begging her goddess to give her help, begging for the demon's capture, begging for our lives to be spared.

  "Mother, I give my life to seal this vessel. My blood to hold it fast. My soul to cleanse the world of its dark purpose."

  "Your magic is weak," it said, dashing from one side to another, avoiding the fingers of light shooting out from within the swirling mist.

  She repeated her call, "Mother, I give my life to seal this vessel. My blood to hold it fast. My soul to cleanse the world of its dark purpose!"

  John cried harder and all I could do was hold him. Then I saw something that made me hopeful. Headlights coming down Miss Ruby's long driveway. I began to pray.

  "Daddy, please protect us and keep us safe," I said. Then I thought about momma and I even prayed to her.

  "Momma, I'm so sorry I didn't listen to you."

  Then I asked our Father who art in heaven to do the same. Miss Ruby continued her chant, oblivious to the approaching vehicle. Halfway up the drive, a red spinning light illuminated on its roof. The creature noticed it, taking a break from tormenting us just long enough to check out the cruiser.

  "Michael, it's the police!" John said.

  The car came to an abrupt stop fifty yards away from us and an officer stepped out with his jaw on his chest. He shone a flashlight on our little circus.

  "Saw these lights from the highway. What the hell is going on here?" he asked.

  Miss Ruby ignored him, but continued her droning words, in a language I couldn't understand. The policeman approached, shielded from our view by his flashlight.

  "You boys okay?" he asked.

  John wasn't and he wasted no time saying so.

  "No sir! We are not okay. I want to go home. I want my momma!"

  He sounded so little and helpless to me at that moment, and I couldn't think of a thing to do to help him. I could only trust in Miss Ruby.

  The policeman chanced a few more steps toward us and I watched the ghostly devil hide behind us, watching from the edge of the barn, where the policeman couldn't see it. Its fleshy lips peeled back into a satisfied grin.

  "You boys come with me," the policeman said.

  Ruby brought her head down from the clouds to argue with him.

  "No," she said. Softly at first, but then, "No!"

  She held on to me and my brother with her hands.

  "Please go on your way, officer. I assure you they are safe. If they leave this circle they won't be."

  He tipped his hat with the flashlight.

  "I don't know what kind of show you're trying to fool them with lady, but you need to cut all ? this? out."

  He waved the flashlight around pointing out whatever this was. Ruby doubled her grip on us and went back to her chanting, some in English, some in that other language. She asked to seal the monster in her makeshift tomb. Promising her own blood, her own life.

  "Help us," John said.

  He was crying and started to fight with Miss Ruby, pulling from her. I was overcome with fear, with anger, with shame. I wanted to go home, to take my brother back to the safety of our mother's arms. It was my fault we were there. It was my fault we'd put the damn bricks in that barn, the vessel in which she wanted to seal the monster.

  "It's going to kill us!" John shouted.

  His voice was shrill, frightened.

  "Nobody's going to kill you," the cop said. "Let them go, ma'am. I won't tell you again."

  I started praying again. The policeman approached with caution, keeping his strong foot forward and inching toward the swirling ocean-colored lights.

  "Just let 'em go," he said.

  His eyes were on the sky, watching the lights. I could see in his eyes he was trying to make sense of what he saw and I could see he was scared. Then he got too close and Miss Ruby doused him with a splash of brilliant white, radiating from her palm.

  He fell backwards onto the ground and as he stood back up, he drew his gun.

  "Our Father, who art in heaven, Hallowed be thy name," I said and recited the entire Lord's prayer.

  In the midst of my prayer, John got away from Ruby. With my eyes closed and praying, I didn't see him go.

  Ruby yelled at him, "No John!" and for a second, the illuminated barrier flickered, her focus was broken. The policeman kept his gun trained on Miss Ruby. She raised her arms and brought back the magic shield.

  "Atta boy," he said. "Right over here."

  But John didn't run to him. He ran out of the light and darted toward the yellow van. The monster growled from behind us, excited about John's poor decision.

  The policeman walked toward the van and my brother until he saw it. His face lost its color and he backpedaled. He raised the weapon. The demon locked snake-like eyes on him, passing John and setting its sights on the cop.

  "What the h-hell is that t-thing?" the officer said.

  Miss Ruby doubled her efforts, doing her best to draw the beast's attention on herself. She chanted louder, her voice hoarse. The blue and green mist grew brighter. And the wind swirled. I could smell my own sweat, which had soaked through my clothes, sour with adrenaline.

  The policeman continued to stare in shock his hands shaking, pointing the revolver at the thing that floated just over the van.

  Then the monster screamed. It was a sound I cannot describe, but it made my insides quake and the windows shattered in not only the van, but Miss Ruby's house and the police car fifty yards away. I saw John scream as the creature charged at the policeman, but I couldn't hear anything. The world had become a muted buzz and a brilliant light show.

  Its criss-crossed teeth parted in that gaping mouth, as if it aimed to take a bite. I saw John climb into the van through the passenger door and I ripped away from Ruby to get to him.

  Bang! Bang! Bang!

  The gunfire sounded comical, small in my deafness. Two more shots fired and I saw the muzzle blast from the corner of my eye. But the creature kept flying toward the policeman. It covered thirty yards in maybe three seconds, just long enough for the officer to empty his weapon.

  Each shot went through the misty devil and hit the side of that yellow van. Then it engulfed him and the policeman's upper half exploded in a furious cloud of dark, wet liquid.
r />   I couldn't move.

  I couldn't scream.

  I could only stare.

  Lights continued to flash and dull sounds exploded all around me as Miss Ruby fought with the monster. Her hair hung, a tangled mess, and her face was no longer the sweet old woman we had met, but a blank face, taken over by her promise to protect us, by her tasking.

  Possessed by what had to be the goddess herself.

  A figure, larger than life, integrated out of the sky, like a million fireflies clustered into the form of a great, glowing cat. It hissed, as if to say, "That's enough!" and with that, the night went completely silent.

  I stood outside the van awaiting my death, but it didn't come-still hasn't.

  An odd glow came from the inside of that barn. The last I saw of the monster, it was being dragged into the cinder-block building by that ethereal cat. Miss Ruby was lying in the center of the concrete floor. I stared at her in a daze for a while and then I went to the van and opened the door. My brother lay there. A bullet hole in his chest answered my question. His dead eyes looked at me, burning into my memory forever.

  I grabbed him, trying to pull him free, trying to hug him to my chest.

  "I'm so sorry, Johnny," I said. "I love you and I'm so sorry."

  Hard as I tried, I couldn't pick him up. The metal of the van had begun to fuse itself into his tiny figure. His dead, lifeless eyes filled with the gray color of raw unrusted steel. I could feel it grabbing onto me as I held him and I pulled my fingers free, tearing layers of skin from the tips of each.

  The van attached itself to John Phillip Cameron's little body, absorbing him, each becoming part of the seal. I stared at him for a long time, watching my brother disappear into a molten lump on the floor of that van. My eyes filled with more tears. More dread about how I was going to explain the events to my mother. I shut the rolling door, which sealed as soon as it closed.

  I staggered back to the barn. It was my full intention to scream at Miss Ruby, to kill her if she wasn't already dead, but she was gone. The glow was gone. I can only guess her body was absorbed into the concrete floor just like my brother. The policeman was gone too, what was left of him. Three bodies to seal that hideous bastard of a demon in. Hopefully forever. The glowing cat was gone as well, but in her place was a swarm of butterflies. Tiny fairies covered that barn in every imaginable color. They crawled over the concrete and along the beams that held up the tin roof, each with a slight glow, as if they were putting the finishing touches on the prison.

  That walk home was the longest I have ever experienced.

  It was twenty five years ago. My mother never forgave me for going back over there. She never believed my version of what happened and blamed the missing witch for stealing her baby. She gave me the necessities, but didn't speak to me for almost ten years.

  She has never mentioned John to me since.

  The barn is still there, as is the yellow van, bullet holes and all. I bought that land where it all happened. There is a neighborhood here now, where I live, and an elementary school. Miss Ruby's old farm house is still there as well. The yellow van reminds me every day about John and about Miss Ruby. I don't hate her anymore, and I've found peace in thinking my brother is swimming in a rock quarry, somewhere with our father.

  Miss Ruby's burden has become mine now, and I'll keep an eye on that house as long as I can, hoping that demon never gets loose. If it does, I'll be ready.