Date: Fri, 27 Jul 2012 14:45:43 -0700 (PDT)
From: Richard Garcia <invertedbeast@yahoo.com>
Subject: Darkness Dwindles chapter 6

DARKNESS DWINDLES
Chapter Six


Joey picked a roadside cafe for lunch.  After they ate Daniel drove for
another hour to a small seaside town.  Some coastal communities are more
picturesque than others.  This was an other.  It was a gritty fishing town
that had clearly escaped the attentions of tourism council brochure-makers
and big city developers.

The post office occupied half of a single-story federal government
building.  The other half was a social security and disability benefits
office.  They entered the post office and Daniel located the box number he
was looking for.  He went back to the van and moved it to a parking lot
across the street where he had a direct line of sight through the post
office's large front window.  He dug out his field binoculars from the back
of the van and settled down to watch people enter and leave the building.

They sat in the van for several hours.  Fortunately, it wasn't a 24-hour
post office.  The front counter closed at five, along with the benefits
office next door.  Two hours later an employee came out to lock the
entrance to the P.O. box area and kill the lights.

Daniel drove back to a motel they had passed on the edge of town and they
checked in.  After dinner at a nearby seafood restaurant they went back to
their room and took showers.  They hadn't planned on an overnight trip and
Joey had no spare clothing.  While he was showering, Daniel fished through
a footlocker in his van and found a stretchy pair of thermal long johns
that wouldn't fall off his brother's slender frame.

Joey came out of the bathroom wearing nothing but the thermals.

"Shit, Joey!"  Daniel was staring at his brother's bare torso.

Joey looked down.  "What?"

Daniel came across the room and placed his hands on Joey's collarbones.
"You've got scabs on both of your shoulders.  What happened to you, little
bro?"

It was the gashes Daniel had given him when he had grabbed Joey and flipped
him onto his stomach.  Daniel traced the scabs lightly.  "They're almost
like ... shit."  His breath caught.  "Joey, how the hell did you get
these?"

Joey's head dropped.  "I don't remember."

"No."  Daniel's thumb raised his brother's chin.  He brushed Joey's hair
back from his face and held his head steady in his hands.  His steel-blue
gaze probed Joey's eyes.  "Was it that night?  Did I do this?"

"Yes, Daniel."  Joey whispered.

"What happened?  Why didn't you tell me?"

Joey looked away.  He shrugged.  "I didn't want you to worry."

"Tell me what happened."

"It was an accident.  You didn't mean to hurt me.  You didn't know you had
claws."

"Jesus, Joey.  I think I have the right to know -- "

Joey placed his hands on Daniel's forearms.  "I'm okay, Daniel.  I'll know
better what to do next time.  It won't happen again."

Daniel's gaze slid from Joey's face to his shoulders.  It began to wander
slowly down his brother's hairless chest.  Abruptly it veered away.  Daniel
snatched his hands back from Joey's face and took three quick steps away.

"Post office boxes open tomorrow at seven," he said, eyes still averted.
"We should get up at six."

"Okay."

"Ready for bed?"

"Sure, Daniel."

Daniel had wanted a nonsmoking room, even though there weren't any
available with two doubles.  They'd have to share the queen-sized bed.
Joey lifted the covers and slid into his side of the bed.  Daniel settled
gingerly onto the other side, keeping a careful distance from his brother.
He turned off the light.

A few minutes later he bounded out of bed.

"What's wrong, Daniel?"  Joey asked sleepily.

"Nothing!" Daniel answered in a hearty voice.  "Can't sleep, is all.  Keep
seeing highway stripes when I close my eyes."

In the dim illumination of the streetlight outside their window, Daniel
found his clothes and dressed hurriedly.  "Shit."  He seemed to be having
trouble getting his jeans buttoned up.

"I'm gonna go for a walk.  When I come back I think I'll sleep on the
floor.  All that driving got my back spasming and it'll feel better
sleeping on something hard."

"Do you need a massage?"

"No!  No thanks, bro.  Don't wait up.  I've got a key."  He grabbed his
shoes and left.



Daniel's cell phone alarm went off at six.  Joey slipped out of bed to take
a shower while his brother's back was turned so he wouldn't see the front
of the thermals.  They were crusted with nocturnal residues.  Daniel
showered and they checked out, then and they drove back to the parking lot
across from the post office.  Through the morning Daniel sat and peered
through his binoculars.  He sent Joey off for coffee and a dozen donuts,
joking that it was essential surveillance food.

Around eleven Daniel abruptly stiffened in his seat.  He stared intently
through the binoculars.

"Shit, I think this is it.  Shit, shit, shit!"

"What is it, Daniel?"

"I can't see for sure.  It's either our box or the one beneath it.  She's
blocking my view."

Thirty seconds later a woman with long dark hair walked out of the post
office.  She was wearing a long-sleeved white blouse and designer jeans.
In her arms was a stack of mail, mostly magazines.

"Shit," Daniel chewed his lower lip.  "I'm guessing that was the box.  Get
ready for the chase scene, bro."

The woman got into a light blue Mercedes convertible and drove off.  Daniel
started up the van and followed her.  Her route was pretty direct.  She
turned onto the town's major thoroughfare and headed south.  A mile later
the thoroughfare left the town and became a two-lane FM road, curving
through the coastal hills.  Five miles after that, the convertible turned
off the farm-to-market onto a road marked by a sign that said PRIVATE.
Daniel drove past on the FM for another mile, then turned the van around
and came back.

The private road was a ribbon of graded gravel that curved away through a
copse of trees.  Other than the sign, there was nothing to distinguish it.

 "Okay, bro," said Daniel, "here's were the real fun begins.  You ready?"

Joey nodded.

Daniel turned the van onto the gravel road.  After a few hundred yards the
trees cleared and they rode through open pastureland.  The road crested a
ridge and they looked down into a valley cupped between the coastal hills
and the sea.  It was a Norman Rockwell sort of valley, with a small orchard
and a few acres of tillage, fenced paddocks for horses, and a couple of
wooden barns.  There were several snug stone cottages nesting in hillside
gardens and even a brick Italianate campanile rising next to an oval pond.
Smack in the middle of the valley, in white three-storied splendor, stood a
rambling Victorian mansion.  Parked in the mansion's wide circular
driveway, between a battered pickup and a black Lincoln town car, was the
blue convertible.

Daniel drove down to the mansion and parked his van next to the pickup.
They got out.  The place seemed deserted.

Joey trailed behind as Daniel walked up wide stone steps to the mansion's
porch and rapped the front door's brass knocker.  They waited.  A little
breeze stirred through the valley.  Birds chirped and fluttered in the
trees.

After a minute the door opened.  It was the woman who had picked up the
mail.  The woman regarded them with a cool level gaze.  Her eyes were
hazel, like Aunt Vivana's.

"This is private property."

"Sure," Daniel trotted out one of his movie star smiles.  "We know.  We're
looking for Momma Lolotta.  Is she home?"

The woman's eyes narrowed.  "Why do you want to see her?"

"Tell her that her grandson Joey is here."

The hazel gaze slid to Joey, then returned to Daniel.  "Wait here."  She
closed the door.

They waited.  The breeze died and the birds fell silent.  The air became
very still, as if the entire valley were quietly holding its breath.
Daniel looked around uneasily.

The door opened again.  "You may come in," the woman said.

They stepped into a spacious two-story foyer with checkered black-and-white
marble tiles and a beautiful cut-glass chandelier.  The musky scent of
incense hung in the air.  Daniel sniffed it; his brow wrinkled in
puzzlement.

The woman led them through a wide arched doorway into a parlor.  Lounging
on a long white leather sectional, leafing through magazines, were a
younger woman and an adolescent girl.  They sat up as Joey and Daniel
entered the room.

"Hi, ladies," Daniel grinned.

The woman on the couch, a pretty collegiate type, scowled.

"You're Daniel," she said.

"I am.  And you are?"

She gave him an arch look.  "I won't tell you.  Your father died in a car
crash, didn't he?"

"Yes."

The young woman set her magazine aside and rested her hands beside her on
the couch.  She began to tap back and forth with her index and pinkie
fingers.

"Have you thought about how it happened?"  Her voice acquired a singsong
quality.

"Not recently."  Daniel met her eyes with a level gaze.

 "Maybe he had a bad heart."  Tap tap, her fingers went, back and forth.
"Did you ever think about that?"  Tap tap.

"Maybe it broke, and he crashed."  Tap tap.  "Did you ever think about
that?"  Tap tap.

"Maybe you have a bad heart."  Tap tap.  "Maybe yours will break too." Tap
tap.  "Did you ever think about that?"  Tap tap.

"You should think about that."  Tap tap.  "You should think -- "

"They did an autopsy," Daniel growled.  "Nothing wrong with his heart.  But
maybe if you keep talking your larynx could suddenly collapse."  His right
hand was clenched in an open-palmed knife fist.  "You should think about
that."

Behind him someone chuckled.

Daniel pivoted to see an old woman standing in the parlor doorway.  Even
propped up on a cane she was shorter than Joey.  She looked to be of mostly
African descent, with skin dark as polished mahogany, but she had an old
witch's beak of a nose.  Her eyes were black as the ocean on an overcast
night.  Hidden tides stirred their depths.

"Let it go, missy," the old woman said.  "Can't you see he's moon-gifted?
That little trick won't work on him."

"Moon gift?"  The young woman started.  She looked at Daniel again.  Slowly
she smiled.  "Well, I guess you are pretty cute."

"What?"  He stared at her.  "First you try to scare me to death, then
you're gonna flirt with me?"

The old woman chuckled again.  "Said let it go.  Think you're up to it?
You didn't even ken what he was.  He'd rip your throat out and leave you
bleedin' to death."

"But Momma El, where am I gonna find -- "

"You'll find one, missy, or you won't.  That's the way it goes."

The old woman looked at the brothers.  "So, you're Joseph and you're the
older one, Daniel.  What you be wantin' from Momma Lolotta?"

"Momma El," the adolescent girl on the couch burst out.  "How can you talk
to them?"

"Ain't no harm ever came of polite conversation, I say."

"But, Momma El -- " the girl began again.

"Don't `but' me, you little hussy!"  The old woman glared.  She rapped her
cane on the floor.  "This is my house and I'll say what I want and speak to
whosoever I please.  You're the one who should be minding her tongue!"

The girl shrank back into the couch, her mouth in a moue of disapproval.

"'Fact," Momma Lolotta continued, "I've a mind to do a bit of jawing."  She
hobbled over to a rocking chair near the couch and settled into it.  "Have
a seat, boys.  Girl," she looked at the youngest, "fetch me my pipe and
tobacco."

Scowling, the girl peeled herself off the couch and stalked off.

"And don't forget the matches!"  Momma Lolotta called after her.  "Silly
little twit," she muttered.  She slid a sly glance at Daniel.  "Not like my
Mercedes.  Now there was a girl with some brains in her.  Sharp as a whip
she was.  And oh, Powers, did her Darkness run deep!  Sit, boys.  Sit."

Daniel and Joseph seated themselves at the far end of the sectional.  The
woman who had answered the front door crossed her arms and leaned casually
against the wall, watching.

"Gave my Mercedes a lot of slack, I did," Momma Lolotta continued.  "Let
her go off to the university.  Figured it might do her some good to see how
lightside folks lived."  She shook her head.  "Didn't think she'd get
seduced by one of `em.  Usually it's the otherways `round."

The girl returned with a pipe, tobacco pouch and matches.  She handed them
to the old woman and flounced back down on the couch.  The old woman filled
her pipe as she continued to talk.

"Came home all fired up.  `The Darkness is dwindling,' she said, like I
didn't already know that.  `Course it's dwindling.  There's spirits my
great granddam spoke to that I can't even find no more.  And you -- wereboy
-- how long's it take to change into a beastie?  One day?  Two?"

"I'm not sure.  A day, I guess."

"A day.  Was a time, way long ago, when it would have been a couple of
hours.  The Darkness is dwindling.  That's just how things are and don't
make no never-mind to my life."

Momma Lolotta struck the match and lit her pipe.  "But my Mercedes, she
couldn't let it go.  Wanted to know how come and what could be done about
it."  She puffed and rocked.  "Don't make no sense to me.  Seems like
askin' how to turn back the sunset.  But she was determined to find out.
Decided she had to learn more about the ancient times.  Told me she was
goin' to graduate school to study ... paleolinguistics."  Momma Lolotta
pronounced the word like a stage magician saying "abracadabra."

She shook her head.  "That girl sure thought big."

"It must have been quite a disappointment to you," Daniel said in a cool
tone, "when she lost her mind after her husband died."

The rocking stopped.  Through the smoke Momma Lolotta gave him a dragony
gaze.  "Careful, boy."  Her voice was full of menace.  "You think `cause
we're talking all pleasant-like that I care one whit about you or your
brother-that-shouldn't-be?"

Daniel shook his head.  "No, ma'am, I don't.  I figure we're talking
because you want to make it clear to these young ladies here that you're
the one in charge of this household."

Momma Lolotta continued to stare at Daniel.  Abruptly she threw back her
head and laughed.  "Child of Light, you figure it jus' right!  Straight as
an arrow your thoughts fly.  Straight as a sunbeam.  If your papa was
anything like you, I reckon I know what she saw in him."

She puffed on the pipe a few times, watching him though the smoke.  "Took
some guts to come out here if you knew what might be waitin' for ya."

She puffed more.  Daniel waited.

"Can't do nothin' `bout the moon gift.  You're stuck with it."

"I know.  That's not why we came."

"Oh?  What'd you come for?"

"Ma'am," Daniel leaned forward, "I came to ask you to please remove the
curse that you put on my brother."

The old woman blinked.  "I put no curse on your brother."

"One of your witches did."

"No one of my lineage put a curse on either of you.  The matter ended when
my Mercedes died.  So willed I.  Am I wrong?" she demanded of the room.

"No, Momma El," the youngest whispered.

"I want to hear it from all of you!  Did anyone of this lineage put a curse
on Mercedes' boy?"

"No, Momma," all three women chorused.

She grunted.  "There."

"Well, someone put a curse on him," Daniel insisted.

Momma Lolotta turned to look at Joey directly for the first time.  Her lips
tightened.  "Oh, Powers."  The wrinkles fissioned deeper into her face.
"Come here, boy," she commanded.

Joey stood up and walked over to stand before her.

"Down here," she snapped.  "'Spect me to climb up to ya?"

He knelt.

Momma Lolotta slid his hair back from his face.

"Oh, little one," she husked, "you have her hair."  She cupped his cheeks
in her weathered hands and peered into his eyes.

Her face tightened further.  "An' somethin' else, I see."  She released him
and sat back in her chair.  "We're done, boy.  Go sit."

Joey went back and sat down beside Daniel.  Momma Lolotta puffed her pipe
as she rocked vigorously.  Eventually the rocking slowed.

 "He ain't cursed at all," she said.  "He's got `im an indweller."

"What?"

"He's possessed, boy.  He's possessed."

"Possessed!  By what?"

"By a demon, of course."

"Can you ... exorcise it?"

"Mayhap.  Why should I?  I didn't put it there."

"But he's your grandson!"

"Enough!"  She glared.  "Don't you task me, boy.  Don't you dare. You've no
inkling how much grief his mother caused this family.  No inkling.  There's
those as soon have your hides for drums and your manhoods for drumsticks as
look at you.  `Tain't my problem.  I've already given you more than
politeness requires."

Daniel bowed his head.  "Yes, ma'am," he said, his gaze at her feet, "you
have.  I thank you for it.  I understand if you've done all that you can."

"Oh, no boy.  I ain't done all I can by a far piece.  But I've done all I
will."

"Yes, ma'am.  It's our problem, not yours."  He kept his head bowed,
waiting.

"Well?" she snapped.  "Out with it."

"Ma'am, could you find the kindness in your generous heart to direct us
toward someone who could help us with our problem?  Please?"

Momma Lolotta stared at Daniel.  She slapped her leg and barked out a
laugh.  "You got guts, boy!  You got guts!  I like that, I do.  Alright,
le'me think."

She puffed and rocked.  "You still livin' in that city?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Fine.  Here's what you do.  You go see ol' Nicholas Fellers there.  That's
Doctor Fellers.  You see what he can do for ya'."

"Thank you, ma'am.  What kind of doctor is he?"

"He's a specialist, boy.  He's a specialist."

"Should I tell him you sent us?"

"Don' matter whether you tell him or not.  He'll know.  Now it's time for
you to go.  Don' either of you be comin' back, you hear?  You don' get no
second helpings on politeness."

"Yes ma'am.  Thank you."

"Enough, boy.  I said git!"

They got.


===================================================================================


Ta-da!  The curtain is pulled aside.  I turn to take my bow.  Perhaps some
of you have already guessed that I am not your typical Nifty author.  For
those who have not, please allow me to introduce myself.  I am your guide
on this narrative journey and I differ from you in an essential aspect.
You see, I lack something that you possess: a body.  My mentis is sine
corpus.  Yes, I am Joey's indweller.

How then, you may wonder, is it possible for me to write this story?
Simple.  Just like Daniel borrowed Joey's car, I'm borrowing his hands.
Joey doesn't mind.  In fact, he doesn't even know.  It's three in the
morning and he's sound asleep.

I'll be sticking around for a while.  Despite all her bravado, Momma
Lolotta had no intention of trying to evict me.  Ever hear the joke about
the priest who embarked on a six-week program to exorcise a demon?  Five
weeks later he and the host were both dead, but that demon was in great
shape.  Heh, heh.  I'm not leaving until I'm good and ready -- and that
ain't yet.

So, finally, pleased to meet you.  Hope you guessed my name.


InvertedBeast@yahoo.com