“Did anybody see someone run off with a camera?” Jeff asked.
Some people shook their heads.
He frowned. “No one?”
Jill, the tour guide, was nice enough to help him talk to the other passengers on board the bus. But unfortunately, no one got a good look at the thief. It seemed to have happened in the blink of an eye, the passengers all concurred. The police came and filed a report but he wasn’t optimistic about the chances of his Nikon being recovered. Hey, these were desperate times. That camera was probably halfway to a pawnshop by now.
“I’m truly sorry about all this, Mr. Park,” Jill said gently.
“It wasn’t your fault,” he replied. “Thanks for your help anyway. And you said you didn’t see the perpetrator either, correct?”
“That’s right. I was so busy conducting the tour. I apologize for not being more alert.”
“No worries.” He ran his fingers through his slicked back dark hair, looking at the ground with a frown. “Thank God I backed up some of those pictures.”
“And the ironic thing is that there’s been a series of other thefts on board our buses.”
He looked at her. “Really?”
Jill nodded. “In every case no one got a good look at the thieves. It’s as if though the thefts occurred invisibly.”
“Sounds like a conspiracy.” He thought for a moment. “I wonder if this has anything to do with those pictures I took of those weird looking children.”
She looked at him with interest. “You’ve seen them, too, have you? The demon kids, I call them.”
“Demon kids?” he repeated, not sure what to make of that. When he turned to the plaza’s statue he noticed the two children were gone.
To move forward on the matter, Jeff went to a shop in downtown San Francisco and bought himself a new camera. He definitely could’ve bought it cheaper online but he didn’t have the luxury of waiting for it to be shipped since he was on vacation. So he got the new camera and was very satisfied with it. So pleased with it, in fact, that he jumped on another one of those red tour buses and took a whole bunch of photos.
As he was sitting by the railing on the upper level of the bus snapping photographs, a shadow fell over him and he turned around. He put his hand over his eyes to see who it was.
A smiling Jill greeted him. “Nice to see you again, Mr. Park. Thanks again for your patronage.”
He extended his hand, grinning. “Nice to see you, too. But please call me Jeff.”
She shook his hand. “Okay. I see you got a new camera.”
He nodded.
“Did the police ever find the stolen one?”
“Not yet. I’m not holding my breath on that. Anymore thefts on the buses?”
She shook her head. “Well, if you need any further assistance let me know.”
“Actually, I wanted to talk to you more about those demon kids.”
Jill paused, but for only just a moment. “Sure. How about after the tour?”
“Sounds good.”
Later in the day, the red tour bus parked on a major thoroughfare near Fisherman’s Wharf. The area was bustling with tourists and cars jammed the streets. After taking some pictures of the neighborhood, Jeff heard the elderly woman sitting in front of him scream.
She pointed straight ahead. “Help! They took my camera and purse!”
Jeff saw someone dash down the stairs to the lower level. Too quick for him to see who it was. “Who was it?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t see them.”
“It was a little kid!” someone else said.
Jeff immediately got up and raced after the thief, colliding with Jill downstairs. “Sorry!” he said. “Someone just stole an old woman’s camera and purse.”
“Oh, no!” Jill sighed. “Not again! Bloody imbeciles!”
She ran after Jeff, following him into a dense crowd of people who were watching a couple of street musicians. Weaving their way through the crowd, bumping into bodies here and there, Jeff looked ahead and caught a glimpse of a small person, probably a child, sprinting towards another tourist trap, Pier 39. The child eluded them well, disappearing from sight, leaving Jeff and Jill confused and clueless as they arrived at yet another congested corridor full of people.
“Hey, watch where you’re goin’, mister!” someone said to Jeff.
“Did you see a small child run by?” Jeff asked him.
“Huh?”
Jeff turned to a Japanese tourist waiting in line to get into a restaurant. “Excuse me, did you see where that small child ran to?”
The tourist shrugged sheepishly. “Sorry, I see no one.”
Jill turned to a young black couple with ice cream cones in their hands. “Excuse me, folks, did you happen to see a child run by here?”
The woman pointed towards the upper level of the Pier 39 shopping complex. “He went up that way.”
“Thank you,” Jill replied and ran off with Jeff.
When they reached the second level they searched all around but didn’t find the child. They paced around a little, scanning numerous faces and bodies. Suddenly, Jill saw what she thought was a dwarf or midget zip out of the NFL store and down a flight of stairs. The person wore shabby clothes and a baseball cap.
“C’mon!” she said, leading the way.
“Gee, he’s fast!” Jeff quipped.
The child or midget threaded deftly through the crowds, bolting back towards Fisherman’s Wharf, leaping over a dog and ducking between the legs of a tremendously tall man in the process. A woman pushing a baby stroller suddenly thrust herself before Jeff and Jill, causing them to knock the stroller over. The baby started crying. Jeff lifted the stroller back up.
“I’m so sorry!” he said to the woman.
Jill saw the child or midget dart into the Wax Museum. “Now he’s going on to my turf.”
“What?”
When they reached the museum, she nodded at her coworkers and got them in. Turning backwards, she said to him: “I also work here.”
“How convenient. Now where did that little guy go?”
They stopped at the Politicians’ exhibit, catching their breath, scanning all around. Not seeing the child they moved on to the Hall of History exhibit, coming up empty handed once again. Seconds later, someone brushed past Jeff, faster than the speed of light it seemed, heading into the King Tut exhibit.
Upon arriving there the place was devoid of life. They heard a shuffling noise and ran into the Chamber of Horrors.
Jeff looked behind a wax figure of Dracula. No one there. The noise continued, echoing from everywhere, confusing them. Jill quickly looked behind a bunch of figures at the Spanish Inquisition gallery, seeing a small foot sticking out from under the flowing black robe of a priest. I got you now, laddie! she mused.
However, when she thrust her blonde head behind the wax figure of the priest her face twisted into a disappointed frown. Nothing there. What the bloody hell?!
Abruptly, the shuffling sound echoed from all directions again, their heads twisting left and right, trying to pinpoint the origin. As they continued walking through the chamber Jeff suddenly saw the child slither up into a ventilation shaft.
Jill gave him a boost up to it but the shaft was too small for him to fit through, yet it was perfect for a child.
He banged the wall with his fist. “Shoot!”
“Hold on, I know another way up there,” Jill interjected, leading him up the stairs to a restricted area for employees. When they reached the other end of the ventilation shaft, however, they saw the grill covering it had been removed.
“Beaten again,” Jeff muttered.
When the tour ended, Jeff and Jill went to a loud, touristy bar called Davy Jones’ Locker right on Jefferson Street, two blocks from the Wax Museum. They both chilled out with a beer. A jukebox in the corner was blasting Big Audio Dynamite’s “E=MC2.”
“I love this song,” Jill said, drinking some more beer.
He nodded, taking a more care
ful look at her, grinning a little.
“Why are you smiling like that?”
“You look like Keira Knightley.”
She chuckled. “I’ve been told that and that it looks like I stepped right out of Bend It Like Beckham.”
“Don’t suppose you like soccer?”
“It’s okay.”
“So tell me more about these demon kids. When was the first time you saw them?”
“I don’t recall when I originally saw them, but I’ve seen them sporadically here and there in different parts of the city. When I do see them, a shiver runs up my spine. They have those distinctive, completely black eyes with no whites in them.”
“Yes, I’ve noticed. What kind of encounters have you had with them?”
“A few times I caught them following me as I was walking around the city. Nothing really happened but it was unnerving, to say the least. . .they just stared at me with those eerie black eyes of theirs.” She shook her head.
“Pretty freaky.”
“Yes. Me and my coworkers think these demon kids are responsible for the thefts on the buses.”
Jeff finished his beer. “The police don’t have any leads or suspects?”
Jill shook her head. “And nothing’s been recovered.”
“Hmmm. I wonder where those little buggers hide out? Where’s their sanctuary?”
“Good question. I’m too chicken to find out.”
“Up for an adventure?” He smiled. “Don’t be afraid, I’ll protect you.”
She considered that for a moment, a weak grin forming on her face. “Possibly. I do have some photos I want to show you. What’s your schedule like later?”
He glanced at his watch. “Well, I was going to check out that Westfield downtown mall-”
“Aw, what utter rubbish!” She shook her head disappointedly. “Going to a mall on your vacation?! You can do that anytime! Besides, all malls look alike anyway. Aw, c’mon, I can show you more interesting things than that.”
“Okay, Miss Tourist Guide, show me around! What do you recommend?”
“Well, for starters, lemme show you these pictures.”
“I’m game.”
After Jill knocked on the hotel room door at the Hyatt Regency Embarcadero, Jeff opened it. “Come on in,” he said.
She looked at the room, noticing an open suitcase full of clothes and tourist brochures and coupons scattered all over the bed. “Nice accommodations.”
“I like it, too. My travel agent recommended it.”
She looked briefly out the 20th floor window, admiring the scenic view of the Bay Bridge and beyond at the skyline of Oakland. Sailboats dotted the waters and a large ship carrying metal containers was cruising out towards the Pacific Ocean.
Jeff noticed her looking at a laptop sitting on a table, its screen displaying pictures of the hotel room. “I like having a record of every hotel room I’ve stayed at. I’m weird that way.”
“You remind me of a character I saw in a movie once,” Jill replied. “He did the same thing.” She took out a sheaf of papers from a manila envelope, handing them to him. “Here are the photos.”
He reviewed them carefully, holding them under the light from the window. All the photographs showed different demon children, including the pair he saw earlier at Union Square, their creepy black eyes staring at the camera. The same pair of kids figured prominently in several pictures, their mannerisms seeming to indicate that they were following Jill at different locations.
Jeff raised his eyebrows, impressed. “I see you’re quite a photographer yourself.”
She made a dismissive gesture with her hand. “Oh, it’s nothing.”
“Hmmm, I definitely see a pattern here: the demon kids are tracking you around. And they’re everywhere, it seems.” He looked away for a moment. “Again, I wonder where their refuge is? Who’s their overseer or parental figures? What do they do with the items they steal?”
Jill nodded. “Chinatown and North Beach seem to be magnets for them. My coworkers and I have seen them there on more than one occasion.”
“Well, we’ve got a starting point then. Awesome. Any specific place you suggest we begin looking for them first?”
“You like ’80s new wave and rock and roll, Jeff?”
“Sure. What’s that got to do with this?”
“I don’t know…maybe nothing at all. But I do hope you like to dance.”
The two approached the loud, vibrating front door of Flashback ’80s, sandwiched in a little alley between Ghirardelli Square and the Cannery. The hulking monolith of a bouncer at the door nodded at their IDs and they went inside, greeted by a beaming young woman at the ticket counter who probably wasn’t even around during the ’80s, wearing bright spandex, an Atari shirt, and a headband.
They purchased their tickets and went out on to the dimly lit dance floor, with its swirling, flashing neon lights, pastel colors, and giant disco ball hanging from the ceiling. Jeff wasn’t dressed for the occasion, but Jill certainly was, with her spiked up short blonde hair under her red bandanna, her Duran Duran T-shirt, torn blue jeans, and van sneakers.
She danced her way across the floor as A Flock of Seagulls’ “Wishing If I Had A Photograph Of You” blared from the speakers.
When he just stood there watching her, she took his arm gently and dragged him onto the dance floor. “C’mon, live a little, mate!” she said into his ear. “It’s fun!”
Jeff laughed but danced next to her. A score of other young people danced around them, totally immersed into the music.
Minutes later, from the corner of his eyes, Jeff spotted a demon kid, standing in one corner of the dark club, simply staring at them. The kid wore those same shabby clothes. Jeff said something into Jill’s ear amid the loud music. She nodded and they both headed towards that corner of the nightclub, weaving their way past numerous sweaty bodies.
As they got closer, the kid made them out, disappearing into an ocean of gyrating people.
“Where’d he go?!” Jeff asked.
“This way!” Jill replied, leading him through a small crevice of an opening between two people as A Flock of Seagulls’ “It’s Not Me Talking” blasted from the speakers. The coattails of the demon kid’s outfit was still within her sight, but quickly eluding her as more bodies were thrust before her.
Jill saw the kid dart out a back exit and she speeded her pace, pushing a guy dressed up like Boy George out of her way. “Sorry!” she blurted.
She and Jeff bolted out the back door, smack dab into the dark, quiet alley. Jill looked all around, finally seeing a fleeing figure up ahead. It appeared to be a little boy. The boy shot up to the mouth of the alley and then made a left. When the two got there they saw him sprint across Columbus Street, jumping on a cable car.
“Hurry!” Jeff said, waiting for some cars to pass before crossing the busy thoroughfare.
They quickened their pace, reached the cable car, and hopped on. Jeff led the way on board, threading past people, seeing the boy’s dark head at the front of the car.
“Excuse me, sir, ma’am, your fares please,” the cable car attendant said.
Jeff handed him some bills. By the time Jeff arrived at the front of the cable car, the demon boy was gone.
“That’s impossible!” Jeff muttered. “He was just here a second ago. I saw him. Where’d he go?” He looked all around for him.
“Did anyone see a young boy get off?” Jill asked.
People shook their heads.
“I’ll be damned,” Jeff said under his breath.
They got off the cable car later and wound up in the bowels of Chinatown, the bright lights and signs, not to mention mouthwatering aromas, mesmerizing Jeff. He lost track of how many cheesy souvenir shops they passed by, all thronged with tourists. Jeff snapped some shots of all these picturesque views with his new camera.
They stopped halfway on Grant Street, one of the major avenues in Chinatown, when lo and behold, another demon kid, this one a young girl, l
ocked dead center in the cross hairs of his zoom lens. He immediately pressed the button and got a shot of her before hurrying down the congested sidewalk.
The little girl stared at them with those totally black eyes, as if in a trance, before scurrying away like some frightened deer. The real challenge, for Jeff and Jill, proved to be avoiding running into people, as Jeff had almost done on many occasions. The girl zipped into a movie theater, where the bright marquee outside read: Enter the Dragon. New, restored print.
They purchased tickets. Jill ran her fingers through her short, spiked blonde hair before entering the darkened theater, seeing the legendary Bruce Lee up on the silver screen. They quietly worked their way down past the packed aisles, following the small girl towards the front of the theater. The girl bolted past the green EXIT sign near the large screen, and Jill and Jeff dashed after her.
The small girl’s final destination was a dark staircase that led down to an underground passageway.
Jill grabbed Jeff’s arm. “I’m scared,” she whispered with her British accent. “I did some research prior to meeting you tonight and learned about these rumors of a secret Satanic cult in San Francisco that kidnaps children and possesses them. Some children are sacrificed during ceremonies, others are converted into servants for the devil.”
“You think these demon kids are connected to this cult?”
“Yes.”
“What’s the name of this cult?”
Before she had a chance to answer, the door behind them closed with a click and a bolt was slid into place. They were engulfed in total darkness. Jeff fished out his mini flashlight, switching it on.
They cautiously moved forward down the dark passageway, clawing cobwebs and dust out of their way. The tunnel seemed endless, but eventually they reached a circular ceremonial chamber with a round altar in the middle of it. Seconds later, a horde of demon kids entered the chamber, surrounding the two, and filled the room to capacity. They tried to escape but kids blocked their way in every direction. Their completely black eyes stared at them. Millions of sets of black eyes.
9 Tales Told in the Dark 15 Page 9
