Authors: Sandy DeLuca
Darkness Conjured (4 page)
Ken’s truck came barreling down the road; dust swirled round massive black tires.
The truck’s painted images seemed to move. The fire’s flames rose and swallowed the baby and the crowned figure licked his lips as
steam from the road spiraled.
The truck’s painted images seemed to move. The fire’s flames rose and swallowed the baby and the crowned figure licked his lips as
steam from the road spiraled.
It was around eight fifteen in the morning when I climbed inside the place that
held the essence and scent of a stranger—someone I should have stayed away from. I didn’t know he’d change my life forever. I didn’t realize that sometimes infatuation is like a potent drug, one that gets a hold
of you and doesn’t let go until you give in to it—until it’s too late.
held the essence and scent of a stranger—someone I should have stayed away from. I didn’t know he’d change my life forever. I didn’t realize that sometimes infatuation is like a potent drug, one that gets a hold
of you and doesn’t let go until you give in to it—until it’s too late.
I was hot, ready for anything. I’d worn a tie-dyed mini. It fit snug against my body, rising to my thighs and
showing off my summer tan.
showing off my summer tan.
Ken’s eyes swallowed me up as he turned the ignition and then shifted into drive.
His short-sleeved shirt was tight on his chest and biceps bulged through cotton
fabric. Blue veins stretched the length of his arms, swollen with his blood—pulsing with the life force that would soon overtake me.
His short-sleeved shirt was tight on his chest and biceps bulged through cotton
fabric. Blue veins stretched the length of his arms, swollen with his blood—pulsing with the life force that would soon overtake me.
“You’re so pretty. I wanted to ask you out for a long time, knew it could be good
between us.”
between us.”
“Glad you finally asked.”
“Look, because of what I do I haven’t got a lot of time to wine and dine you. Come Spring I can change my schedule.
For now we’ve got to steal time.” He touched my bare leg. “Hope you know what I mean.”
For now we’ve got to steal time.” He touched my bare leg. “Hope you know what I mean.”
His promises thrilled me. “I know,” I said.
He drove a few miles past Luke’s, took the highway leading to Century Lake and drove down a stretch of dirt
road. I smelled the perfume of summer flowers and grass. The lake came into
view, blue, sparkling underneath the hot sun. It was beautiful, but for a
moment a dark feeling erupted.
road. I smelled the perfume of summer flowers and grass. The lake came into
view, blue, sparkling underneath the hot sun. It was beautiful, but for a
moment a dark feeling erupted.
I grasped the edge of my seat and thought about telling Ken I’d made a mistake. I wondered if he’d get angry, force me to do something I wasn’t ready for. The dark feeling went away when he turned and smiled at me.
He parked underneath thick trees. We sat there in silence for a while, looking
at the lake, and then he leaned over and kissed me. It was quick and
frightening. I didn’t stop him when his hands moved over my breasts and then between my legs. It
wasn’t long before his fingers were inside me, probing, inching deeper, making me
wet.
at the lake, and then he leaned over and kissed me. It was quick and
frightening. I didn’t stop him when his hands moved over my breasts and then between my legs. It
wasn’t long before his fingers were inside me, probing, inching deeper, making me
wet.
“We’ll be more comfortable in back,” he whispered to me.
He opened his door, moved around to my side and helped me out. We walked with
arms around each other. I felt safe in those arms. I felt Ken’s strength and the hardness of his body.
arms around each other. I felt safe in those arms. I felt Ken’s strength and the hardness of his body.
Blue Jays dipped and dived in front of us and a butterfly—golden yellow with dark patterns on its wings—glided by.
The trailer had boxes neatly stacked in the rear. An army jacket hung on a hook and several pairs of boots leaned against some
plastic containers.
plastic containers.
I wondered if Ken had been to ’Nam. I didn’t ask. Lots of guys who’d been there didn’t like to talk about it. I didn’t want to do anything to spoil the mood.
I took in a deep breath. I cast my eyes downward. There was a blanket on the
floor. It was bright red and green. A face—African or maybe Aztec—was in its center. It wore a crown of bones. There were hearts on its cheeks and
forehead. The words
Love Potion
were stitched across its neck. Its lips were full and its eyes were black orbs.
floor. It was bright red and green. A face—African or maybe Aztec—was in its center. It wore a crown of bones. There were hearts on its cheeks and
forehead. The words
Love Potion
were stitched across its neck. Its lips were full and its eyes were black orbs.
“New Orleans, right?” I said pointing to the blanket.
Ken chuckled softly. “Yeah. My magical love blanket.”
I wondered if he believed in the power of magic—of spells woven during rituals—or if he was just a collector of oddities. I wondered how many other women had
lain on his unusual blanket. A surge of jealousy pulsed through me.
lain on his unusual blanket. A surge of jealousy pulsed through me.
It dissipated when he said, “I’ve been lonely, Meg.”
He grabbed my hair and kissed me hard, running his hands over my body, making me
tingle all over.
tingle all over.
“There, there, pretty girl,” he said.
He lifted my dress over my head, undid my bra and slid down my panties. He took
a step back. His eyes moved over my body. He smiled slowly and then pulled off
his shirt. Soft tufts of brown hair covered his chest. He had the look of
someone who worked out. I never got to ask if he frequented gyms all over the
country—or if he brought his own bar bells into musty hotels, sweating and lifting on a
hard cold floor.
a step back. His eyes moved over my body. He smiled slowly and then pulled off
his shirt. Soft tufts of brown hair covered his chest. He had the look of
someone who worked out. I never got to ask if he frequented gyms all over the
country—or if he brought his own bar bells into musty hotels, sweating and lifting on a
hard cold floor.
He put his hands on my shoulders and gently pushed me down on the blanket. He
slid down his jeans and then he covered me with his body. It wasn’t long before everything I knew slipped away. He was inside me, a stranger—a mystic who knew how to make my body feel things it hadn’t before.
slid down his jeans and then he covered me with his body. It wasn’t long before everything I knew slipped away. He was inside me, a stranger—a mystic who knew how to make my body feel things it hadn’t before.
I’d done it with Alan Berle before he got drafted. We were both curious about sex.
I didn’t feel anything when he moved back and forth inside me. He used condoms. They
pinched. It was over quick and that was the extent of it.
I didn’t feel anything when he moved back and forth inside me. He used condoms. They
pinched. It was over quick and that was the extent of it.
This was different. My body and Ken’s mingled like stars in a constellation. He introduced me to sensations hidden
in flesh—like an enchanted chest filled with all the wonders of the universe. He brought
me places I’d denied, kept secret all my life. Light and dark merged in one terrifying act.
in flesh—like an enchanted chest filled with all the wonders of the universe. He brought
me places I’d denied, kept secret all my life. Light and dark merged in one terrifying act.
Ken’s wooden drummer dangled from his neck. Its eyes bore into mine and for a moment—a flash—it smiled at me with sharp pointed teeth. It drummed, slow and steady and the
sounds of birds, the lake and trees rustling mingled with Ken’s breathing. Sweat trickled from our pores, mixing together like a dark brew.
sounds of birds, the lake and trees rustling mingled with Ken’s breathing. Sweat trickled from our pores, mixing together like a dark brew.
I climaxed for the first time that day and a second time before Ken told me he
was going to explode.
was going to explode.
I felt his hot liquid in me, telling myself you don’t get pregnant for doing it once with a guy.
“You come?” He asked me.
I told him, “Yes.”
“You’re really something, Meg. A card reader in New Orleans told me I’d meet a special chick. Must be you.”
“Must be,” I said as he covered my mouth with his. I imagined a woman dressed in colorful
clothes, beads and earrings clicking as she turned over cards.
clothes, beads and earrings clicking as she turned over cards.
“The woman’s always right.” He told me as he kissed my chin, my neck and then my breasts.
Now a different image played out in my head; an old woman with a scarred face
sat at a table covered with a lace tablecloth. A solitary candle burned. Its
light illuminated her face. A deck of cards lay by the candle. The woman picked up the cards and shuffled.
sat at a table covered with a lace tablecloth. A solitary candle burned. Its
light illuminated her face. A deck of cards lay by the candle. The woman picked up the cards and shuffled.
A man stood before her. Shadow obscured him. He tossed a bundle of money on the
table.
table.
The woman stopped shuffling, counted the money and then handed him a card. “Another deal and it goes on and on,” she said.
The man leaned forward to accept the card and candlelight revealed his face.
“My father,” I said softly.
“What’s wrong?” Ken asked. “You zoning out on me, girl?”
“No, just thinking.” I told myself it was guilt. I’d lied to my father. I took a deep breath and looked into Ken’s eyes.
“You’re the best thing that’s happened to me in a while,” he whispered.
Wasn’t long before he was inside me again. This time it lasted longer.
He held me for a long time afterwards, not speaking, just kissing me, touching
me. I told myself I loved him and was comforted by the thought that each Friday
we’d be together. Why would it ever end?
me. I told myself I loved him and was comforted by the thought that each Friday
we’d be together. Why would it ever end?
* * *
Hot wind blew on my face as Ken’s truck rambled down the road. He held the wheel with one hand and took my hand
with the other.
with the other.
“I love the open road,” he told me. “Could never stay in one place. Don’t mean the right woman couldn’t share it with me.” He clutched my hand tighter.
I didn’t answer. I imagined myself traveling through cities and towns with him, making
love in faraway motels and watching the sun rise at the end of a long haul.
love in faraway motels and watching the sun rise at the end of a long haul.
We passed Luke’s, the old drive-in theater and the new mall. I gave him directions to my
neighborhood when we passed the Baptist Church.
neighborhood when we passed the Baptist Church.
“Best I don’t go to your door. We’ll wait until the right time,” he told me when we drove over the city line.
He dropped me off at the end of my street. He kissed me goodbye.
“I’ll see you,” He told me. “Friday.”
I climbed onto the walk. My dress had risen above my hips. I tugged it down and
then ran my hands through my tousled hair. I turned and saw old Mrs. Beldin
peering out her window. I hoped she wouldn’t talk to my parents anytime soon, mention the truck with the odd painting
flanking it, or its driver—leaning over to kiss me. I hoped she wasn’t planning on calling everyone she knew to tell them Barry Fiano’s daughter was whoring with the truckers from Luke’s.
then ran my hands through my tousled hair. I turned and saw old Mrs. Beldin
peering out her window. I hoped she wouldn’t talk to my parents anytime soon, mention the truck with the odd painting
flanking it, or its driver—leaning over to kiss me. I hoped she wasn’t planning on calling everyone she knew to tell them Barry Fiano’s daughter was whoring with the truckers from Luke’s.
I told myself it didn’t matter, that Ken and I had something special. I watched his truck move away,
pretending I wasn’t being scrutinized by the town gossip. I felt soreness between my legs and
hoped to God that things would be alright.
pretending I wasn’t being scrutinized by the town gossip. I felt soreness between my legs and
hoped to God that things would be alright.
I walked home, feeling in love with Ken, smelling his scent on my skin, but
something inside me said everything wasn’t going to be alright.
something inside me said everything wasn’t going to be alright.
* * *
I’m thinking about the phantom girl Linda saw. Linda swears she’ll never try to open her window again, but I don’t think sealed windows, or doors, can keep out evil.
Linda and Lacey carry their trays back to the kitchen. They’re chatting softly to each other. They pass Patrick Lamont. He doesn’t seem to notice them. He doesn’t seem to notice anything.
Flora, a girl with straight red hair and freckles sprinkled across her nose sits
next to me. She’s only sixteen.
next to me. She’s only sixteen.
“Meg, I found something,” she tells me with an excited voice.
“What?” I ask, my eyes darting to a girl sitting a few tables over—Marcy Long. She’s bullied Flora before, stealing clothes from her closet and money from her
bureau. I think she’s the one who messed with my things. Can’t prove it though. She’s holding up her arm, looking thoughtfully at a gold bracelet on her wrist. I
wonder who she stole it from. I wonder if a knife is tucked in her boot or up
her sleeve.
bureau. I think she’s the one who messed with my things. Can’t prove it though. She’s holding up her arm, looking thoughtfully at a gold bracelet on her wrist. I
wonder who she stole it from. I wonder if a knife is tucked in her boot or up
her sleeve.
“It’s her second baby. First one was stillborn,” Flora shakes her head. “She was at Juvie before this. Dealing with her pimp boyfriend got her there.
Probably lost the baby from the dope and shit.”
Probably lost the baby from the dope and shit.”
“Probably,” I tell her as I watch Marcy sip her milk. She’s just a young girl. No more than sixteen or seventeen. How did things turn out
so bad for her? Now I look at Flora. Marcy hurt her. She hurt other girls, too.
I refuse to feel pity. “So what were you going to tell me?”
so bad for her? Now I look at Flora. Marcy hurt her. She hurt other girls, too.
I refuse to feel pity. “So what were you going to tell me?”
“I found a Ouija board.” Flora says in between mouthfuls of food. “I was in the library last night, looking for a book about The Beatles. Nothing
there but a picture book of John Lennon’s art. Then I figured I’d try to find
Rosemary’s Baby
. I was checking out stuff on a bookcase in the corner. Found the board behind
some Sci-Fi novels. It’s old. Looks like somebody stashed it there a long time ago. It was late, nobody
else was up. I brought it to my room.”
there but a picture book of John Lennon’s art. Then I figured I’d try to find
Rosemary’s Baby
. I was checking out stuff on a bookcase in the corner. Found the board behind
some Sci-Fi novels. It’s old. Looks like somebody stashed it there a long time ago. It was late, nobody
else was up. I brought it to my room.”
“Those things are creepy,” I tell her. “My sister, Beth, had one in college. Told me she burnt it because it spooked
her. Never went into details, but she looked scared when she talked about it.” Patrick Lamont looks our way and then begins to make his way out of the dining
room. He reaches the door leading into the hall and then seems to blend into
shadows cast by the large potted plants flanking the walls.
her. Never went into details, but she looked scared when she talked about it.” Patrick Lamont looks our way and then begins to make his way out of the dining
room. He reaches the door leading into the hall and then seems to blend into
shadows cast by the large potted plants flanking the walls.
“If you ask for only good spirits to come through then it’s alright.” Flora watches Marcy pour orange juice into a plastic glass. “Come by later if you want.”
“Alright, later.”
“Ok,” says Flora as she turns her full attention to her breakfast. She’s just a little girl. I hope she’ll find happiness one day and that she’ll recover from this horrible experience.
My mind wanders and I wonder who left the board behind, if it’s part of the darkness of the Amelia Leech house, or if it’s just a toy created on an assembly line with a thousand others like it.
No matter. I’m curious, drawn into the idea. I want to ask about Ken. Maybe it can tell me
how to find him. I know there are spirits here. I know they see things beyond
the walls of this house.
how to find him. I know there are spirits here. I know they see things beyond
the walls of this house.
4
The room is dark except for a nightlight. Rain pelts against a lone window
facing an empty street. A radiator hisses. The floor creeks. Someone is
speaking above the storm and sounds of an aging house.
facing an empty street. A radiator hisses. The floor creeks. Someone is
speaking above the storm and sounds of an aging house.
It’s my sister Beth. She sounds excited. She looks a little scared. She always
seems to know obscure and esoteric facts. “The Ouija board has been around for a long time. Originated in China; 1100 BC.
Some people call it a
spirit board
, or
talking board
. Bet you didn’t know that. Aleister Crowley used one. His friend Achad summoned angels with
the damn thing.”
seems to know obscure and esoteric facts. “The Ouija board has been around for a long time. Originated in China; 1100 BC.
Some people call it a
spirit board
, or
talking board
. Bet you didn’t know that. Aleister Crowley used one. His friend Achad summoned angels with
the damn thing.”
Beth is sitting in a chair, her knees pressed against a girl sitting opposite
her. Beth’s hair is tied back with a red ribbon. The other girl is blonde, slender and
looks apprehensive. Her name is Belle. I haven’t seen her in a long time. I can’t remember why. She doesn’t speak. Just lets my sister ramble on. There’s a Ouija board balanced on their laps.
her. Beth’s hair is tied back with a red ribbon. The other girl is blonde, slender and
looks apprehensive. Her name is Belle. I haven’t seen her in a long time. I can’t remember why. She doesn’t speak. Just lets my sister ramble on. There’s a Ouija board balanced on their laps.
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