Chapter Nineteen

The same sad song played over again as Paige fled the library and climbed the curved stairwell. Her foot landed sideways on the third step and she fell forward, grabbing her ankle and wincing with pain, she yelled for Kendal to shut up! The piano went silent but the screaming infant grew louder as she crawled to safety. She told herself not to look back, but then quickly turned and scanned the dark house for Vincent’s muddy red aura, noticing instead, an emerald green light. Appearing from around the corner, the green glow positioned itself at the base of the stairs and a familiar voice called out her name. She froze on the middle step and waited for the light to arrive. Gently touching her shoulder, Professor Faraday knelt down beside her and asked if she was okay. Paige buried herself in his chest, trembling and sobbing as he held her close and stroked her hair.

“We need to go,” he said, slowly pulling away.

“I can’t,” she answered, lifting her head. “Gabriel’s dead.”

“Sweetie, I know, but we can’t stay here, now come on.”

“Gabriel’s dead!” she yelled. “I have to go back!”

Professor Faraday flinched and then grabbed her by the shoulders, “Paige, listen to me, it’s not safe here, we need to go.”

She didn’t move.

“Now!”

“I sprained my ankle, Billy, I can’t.”

He reached for her injured ankle and clasped it with both hands. “I’m no longer Professor?” he asked. “I see.”  Immense heat spread through her toes as he applied pressure and rotated her ankle, clockwise and counterclockwise, until the heat rolled away with the pain. In less than two minutes, her sprained ankle was healed. She took his hand as they scaled the stairs and raced down the hallway into the dusty side room. Slipping past the covered piano, they fled through the metal door and slid down the steps where the old white van waited a few feet away. She welcomed the cold night air. She could breathe, could taste the sweet sugarcane on her lips. Professor Faraday directed her to hide out in the back of the van. Paige refused.

“Where is everyone?” she asked.

“Get in the van and stay down. I’ll be back in fifteen minutes.”

“And what if I just drive off?” she yelled.

“Fifteen minutes!”

The professor disappeared into the cottage and Paige climbed into the van and huddled down on the floorboard. She descended deeper into mourning. She met Gabriel for the first time while vacationing with her parents in New Orleans. Fifteen and left alone in the hotel room, she thought it was some kind of prank when the teen dream knocked on the door. He’d been the one who sought her out, and explained why she was different, and where she came from and what she was, but when her parents caught wind of their meeting, they sent her away to boarding school. They wanted her to stay, they wanted her to go, but they never told her the truth about anything. She and Gabriel corresponded through letters and through the occasional secret meeting. He’d been her best friend, the person with whom she’d shuffled back and forth between realms and shared jokes that no one else understood. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she crouched on the floorboard and restrained herself from returning to the library. Bright lights flooded the van as she peeked through the back window and then closed the curtain, burdened by her raw emotions. Her parents frantically called out her name as they slammed the car doors and scurried around the courtyard. Paige wiped her face, pulled back her hair and slowly crawled out of the van. Bombarded with hugs and kisses, she quickly pushed them away. Her memories crystallized and anger boiled over. Her father’s red eyes glowed with remorse.

“Paige, sweetie, I’m so sorry, we should have told you,” he said, looking over his shoulder.

“Told me what?” she asked. “That I’ve been missing for twenty-seven years? That you’ve been lying to me, again, about who I am?”

“All of the above,” he answered. Allison dabbed her eyes and cradled herself as she looked around the courtyard. Paige shook her head and turned her back on both of them. She looked to the fields of sugarcane hoping to see a pale pink light, and though the full moon illuminated the tall wispy stalks, no other light appeared. The cottage door remained closed and an eerie stillness settled over the grounds. She jumped when her father wrapped his jacket around her shoulders.

“I should have said something on the porch last night. I wanted to, I just didn’t know how,” he said.

She sighed and pulled his jacket tighter, “Did you know they’d bring me here? Did you know that Vincent planned on sending me back?”

“I knew Vincent wanted to see you,” he said, “but I never agreed to that plan.”

“What plan did you agree to?” she asked.

Allison stood before her daughter and reached up to cup her face. Paige flinched back and then grabbed her mother’s hands. “New lotion?” she asked. “You look thirty years younger. Looking pretty good yourself, Dad.”

Her parents stood dejected, their youthful faces broken and their voices silenced until Allison whimpered and let loose an onslaught of tears.

“We didn’t know what to do, Paige, we thought we lost you forever! Then Regan brought you to us, and we just, we didn’t know what to think!”

“You should have thought to tell me the truth!” Paige exclaimed.

“Sweetie, your mother and I–”

Paige groaned and threw up her hands as her father watered down the severity of their deceit. She wanted to understand and see their side of things, the pain, the sorrow, the confusion, the denial, the joy upon her return. She saw the parallels to Gabriel. If he appeared out of the blue twenty-seven years later, Ashley wouldn’t let him out of his sight, neither would she. Paige did understand, but not enough to curb her anger.

“Hey, next time you guys need a fix, I’ve got the recipe in my pocket. Maybe if I can figure out how to make it, you’ll be loyal to me too.” She watched her mother crumble as makeup smeared down her face and her shoulders violently quivered. Paige felt sick to her stomach again.

“Mom, let’s just, wait for the others,” she mumbled.

Justin perked up and looked around the courtyard, “Where are they anyway?”

“I don’t know,” she said, “Billy’s in the cottage, said he’d be back in fifteen minutes.”

A door slammed and Paige whipped around to see Vincent standing on the front porch, appearing like a bad omen summoning forth the reigns of calamity. All three froze in place.

“Cordin’ tuh my watch, his fifteen minutes are up! Just like your shirt, Paige! How ‘bout dat?” Vincent stepped off the porch with his gold-handled walking cane and strolled across the gravel, tapping his cane from side to side and whistling a familiar nursery rhyme. He stopped about halfway from the house.

“Ain’t no way tuh treat an old friend, Justin. Put duh gun down, you on my property.”

Justin held the revolver steady, “You’ve got one pointed at me, somewhere. I know how these things work.”

“Bit paranoid, aren’t we?” Vincent laughed and inched closer. Wobbling as he strolled across the courtyard, he stopped about five feet away. “Been enough bloodshed tonight. Lay it down now. Ain’t gonna shoot me, I’m duh medicine man.”

Justin kept a steady aim. “Where are the others?” he asked.

“Good question,” Vincent answered. “Tell yuh dis much, your boy Ashley, he killed Alain, blew a hole right through his head. You Faradays all duh same, trigger-happy traitors.”

Justin stepped closer, “Where is he Vincent, what’d you do with my boys?”

Shaking his head, Vincent answered, “Wasn’t supposed to go down like dis. Now see here, I’m a reasonable man, but I ain’t always in control. Put duh gun down, your boys are fine, ole friend. Dey in duh cottage stealin’ my medicine.”

Paige smelled the whiskey on his breath and shivered as she looked out across the sugarcane field with the two concrete structures towering in the foreground. The winged statue glowed under the light of the moon casting a red tint upon the fountain. She gasped as an owl swooped in and perched on the statue’s horned head. Her father yelled and kicked the dirt, but when the owl refused to take flight, he took aim and pulled the trigger. The bird exploded into metal fragments and rained down into the fountain. Vincent howled with laughter.

“Nice shot, ole friend! Glad it wasn’t my head!”

Justin lowered the gun. “You’re right,” he said, “wasn’t supposed to go down like this. Everything’s broken, Vincent.”

“I know. How’s your daddy?”

“You know more than me,” Justin answered, holding the gun by his side.

“He gone off duh radar,” Vincent answered, removing his hat and holding it to his chest. “Dey pullin’ duh plug, Justin. You an Allison gonna need tuh hunker down somewhere. You welcome tuh stay with me.”

Allison scoffed and attempted to speak, but Justin held up his hand, “Thanks for the offer, but we’ve already made plans.”

Smiling, Vincent replied, “Guess you still in contact with someone den, none of my business,” he shrugged. “I’ll give yuh enough medicine tuh last for duh year, after dat, yuh on your own. Course, may not be any left. Go on over to duh cottage, Justin, go on an check it out. If I recall, you enjoy snoopin’ around.”

Justin glared at the cottage, shook his head and backed away.

Vincent smiled and replaced his hat. “Shouldn’t have left like yuh did. I was still grievin’ my wife, an yuh snuck off like a thief in duh night. Ain’t never been a true friend of mine.”

“You lost your mind, Vincent!” Justin exclaimed. “I’m sorry, I really am, but you went crazy after Valley died, before really. You changed after your trips to Egypt. Who was it, man? Who’d you meet? What did you meet?”

Chuckling, Vincent answered, “All dese years an yuh still don’t get it. Logic holds yuh back.”

Justin huffed and threw up his hand, “Always the same answer. You may as well have met the devil, or maybe it was the Tooth Fairy.”

Vincent shifted his weight and glanced again at the cottage. “Justin don’t believe in duh devil, does he? Justin only believes what he sees.”

The air reeked of whiskey and Paige studied Vincent, his large black eyes and high cheekbones marked with a scar running down from his temple to his chin. She concentrated on his glassy eyes and looked beyond his goateed mask. Through the hum of white noise, his thoughts came into focus. Vincent glared at Paige through his large bloodshot eyes and a muddy red aura shrouded his body, blocking her from his mind. She reached into her pocket and pulled out the recipe.

“It’s Moloch,” she said, “that’s who you met in Egypt. That’s who gave you this.”

Vincent gripped his cane with both hands and leaned in closer, “Watch yourself, girl, remember now, you and me, we want duh same thing.”

Pulling her arms through her father’s jacket, she replied, “Gabriel told me about Moloch, said he’s mentioned in the Bible, the god of sacrifice, sometimes symbolized as an owl.” She glanced at her parents as Justin narrowed his eyes and motioned for her to put the piece of paper away.

Vincent adjusted his hat and dug his cane into the ground. “What does Paige know about spirits?” he asked.

“Not much,” she answered, “but you’re obsessed. Your altar, the cuckoo coo clocks, all the Egyptian crap. Moloch tells the spiders what to weave.”

Vincent grinned and tipped his hat, “Paige done caught dat fly. Ain’t always up tuh me, but I paid my price, see, he likes duh children, an I’ve sacrificed enough through duh years.”

Cries from the screaming infant pierced the night and Vincent jerked his head over his shoulder. Paige also flinched and turned around but Justin and Allison failed to react to the crying child.

“You heard it this time, didn’t you?” she asked. “Have another drink, Vincent, maybe that’ll stop the voices, maybe that’ll please the spirits.”

Keeping the gun by his side, Justin stiffened his arm and lightly rested his finger on the trigger.

“I told yuh, step off dat horse,” Vincent said, holding up his long boney finger. “Lest I need remind yuh of your current disposition.”

Justin stepped forward and pushed Paige aside. “We’re leaving,” he said. “We’ll wait for the others in the car and then be on our way. You’re right, we don’t need any more bloodshed tonight.” He won’t let us leave, probably has an arsenal aimed at us. Paige looked at her father and grabbed him by the arm. Shutting out his thoughts, she again, concentrated on Vincent.

“Ain’t nobody leavin’ till I get what’s mine,” Vincent said, raising his voice. “I spy with my all-seeing eye, somethin’ dat belongs tuh me, now, I wonder what dat item could be?”

Justin ordered her to get in the car, but just as she turned to go, a gunshot rang out and a bullet pegged the ground beside her feet. She screamed and jumped back, quickly steadying her wobble and freezing in place. Her father took aim as Vincent held up his hand and shook his head.

“Don’t let dis get outta hand, Justin. Give me duh recipe an be on your way. Gotta gun on each of yuh, please ole friend, no more bloodshed.”

Paige held up the piece of paper and slowly stepped forward, “What if I still want to go back?” she asked. “Won’t I need this?”

Grinning, Vincent answered, “Girl already made her choice, but if yuh want a second chance, we wait in duh library.”

“No way,” Allison said. “We’re leaving. Paige, give him the recipe.”

Paige didn’t move. Justin held his position. Vincent checked the time on his gold pocket watch.

“Listen tuh mommy, Paige, she always got her head on straight.”

Allison rolled her eyes. “You’re a wolf in sheep’s clothing,” she said, “and one of these days you’ll get what’s coming to you.”

Vincent laughed, “Well now, I do enjoy my wool suits, but if ever I get mine, you gonna be long gone, deader den a lost dog in China Town. Lookin’ good by duh way, I’m guessin’ Justin shared.”

Allison grimaced and looked away.

“Hand it over, girl,” he said, holding Paige’s glare. “Readin’ my mind ain’t gonna do no good. Got nothin’ tuh hide.”

Her eyes darted off to the cottage and then scanned the sugarcane fields. She envisioned her ghostly encounter with Gabriel and grieved the loss of her twin. She wasn’t ready to leave him behind. She contemplated returning to the library, but postponed making a decision until the others returned. Unable to penetrate Vincent’s mind, she again breached her father’s thoughts, disturbed by the images playing through his head. She saw a petite and slender young woman wearing a familiar red dress, followed by a black-and-white still frame, a mental photograph depicting a lifeless body covered by a thin white sheet–a dark stain outlined the head. She turned away from her father and forced herself out of his mind.

“Hand it over, girl!”

Paige flinched and glanced at her mother who motioned for her to relinquish the recipe. She turned and faced Vincent again, fearful of getting shot but unwilling to surrender the piece of paper. She held the cure for death in her hand and a sample stashed in her pocket. She refused to give up hope, there had to be a way, if I could just return before he drinks the poison.

“Count of five, girl!”

The baby’s cry rattled the trees and Paige glanced at the cottage again. The courtyard light flickered off and two figures, glowing red and green, emerged from the cottage and steadily approached.

“Outta time!”

“Wait!” Paige screamed and turned around as Vincent grabbed the rim of his hat and nodded. A loud pop exploded from behind and she turned to see her mother fall back and collapse to the ground. Justin ran to her side as Paige stood motionless watching blood spill from her mother’s shoulder.

“Warnin’ shot!” Vincent yelled. “Next one’s fatal! Ain’t playin’ games! Duh recipe!”

The courtyard light flickered on and Professor Faraday ran to Allison’s side, sliding across the gravel, he cradled her in his arms and covered her wounded shoulder with his hands. Justin kneeled down beside his wife, kissing her forehead and reassuring her that everything would be okay, “your Billy Boy is here, you’ll be just fine.” Three clones emerged from the shadows and surrounded them as Justin set his gun down and slowly crept over to stand next to Paige. Robotic and expressionless, the clones waited for the next signal with their weapons aimed. Smiling a tooth-filled grin, Vincent hummed an old nursery rhyme about the simple-minded woman and the ill-fated fly.

“Spider gonna catch dat fly, but me, I’m leavin’ duh web, an I can’t have my secrets leakin’ out. Hand it over, Paige, or else Billy’s next.”

Professor Faraday stood with Allison in his arms and motioned for Justin to open the car door. “Her body’s still healing,” he said. “I’m putting her in the car.”

Vincent nodded, “I’ll permit it, but you an dat beard gotta know I ain’t bluffin’.”

Smiling, the professor shut the car door and turned to face the executioner. “My beard is quite aware of the situation,” he said.

Vincent chuckled and steadied his wobble, “Tell yuh somethin’, William, you lookin’ like duh Unabomber. Don’t watch yourself, bound for duh same fate too, I’m afraid.”

The professor crossed his arms and replied, “If I knew how to make a bomb, please know that I would send it to you.”

“I’ll keep dat in mind,” Vincent laughed. “Still waitin’ on dat recipe. I’ll take yuh all out, one by one, if need be.”

Paige stepped forward and then stopped, slowly putting her foot down, she backed up and stared at the ground. A trail of earthworms curved across the gravel in a long undulating line that disappeared into the sugarcane fields. Vincent tripped over his cane as he jumped out of the way.

Peering into the woods, he shouted, “Show yourself!”

No response.

“Show yourself, boy! I’ll take em’ all out, one by one, if need be!”

Silence.

“Ain’t playin’ games!” Vincent grabbed the rim of his hat and nodded at the clone standing to the right of the professor, but the male clone dropped the gun and fell backwards, hitting the gravel with a loud thud. Vincent turned to a female clone, touched his hat and nodded, but she too, fell to the ground. The third clone, a tall male standing to the left of Paige, turned and ran away. Using his cane, Vincent dragged one of the guns closer to his feet and Justin sprang into action. Reclaiming his firearm, both men stood with raised weapons. Professor Faraday crept closer to Paige, wrapped his arm around her shoulders and intercepted her panicked mind, if you can hear me, don’t give him the recipe. Paige winced and jammed the piece of paper into his hand. Even better, he thought, stuffing it into his pocket. Paige smirked and kept her eyes on Vincent.

“We at a standstill here, Justin. What say we lay down our arms before duh worms take us both out?” The great migration disappeared into the horizon and Justin cringed when he heard a familiar voice speak out from behind a nearby tree.

“Apparently the worms are smarter than both of you. Tell me, Dad, what time is it?”