Unclean Spirit (15 page)

CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX

              While Charlie tended to the animals and prepared to lock things up for the night, Patsy and Marybeth sought out Penelope. They found her exactly where they expected her to be, smack in the middle of the bed that resided in Starr's old room.             

              "You know, Pen," Marybeth said, "you're a mighty smart cat! Starr's right about you--you do know things. 

              "Here, we brought you room service."

              Marybeth had no sooner set the dish of tuna down than Penelope began to devour it.

              No one at the ranch rested well that night: Patsy's sciatica started acting up; Marybeth could simply not find a comfortable position in bed; Charlie, sleeping with a loaded gun at his side, dreamed of snakes with boils on their heads; Cooter crawled underneath his blanket and quivered throughout the night; Penelope padded downstairs and stood vigil at the kitchen door.

              No one in the Duncan household rested well that night: Lillie kept waking up to check on Lukas; Lukas dreamed about a horned Paul Forsythe.

              No one at Saul's house rested well that night: Saul dreamed about the Antichrist character in
The Omen
; Mag tossed and turned as he dreamed about a nun who drifted across the desert while eating a marmalade sandwich.

CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN

              Mag followed Saul to the Chamber of Commerce the next morning; he wanted to pick up some literature about Van Horn. Mag was trying to ascertain if there was anything in the town's history that might suggest that the place had a supernatural bent. Mag and Saul then had breakfast at the
Smokehouse Restaurant
on West Broadway.

              "What population of this Van Horn?" Mag inquired.

              "Oh, I don't know, maybe around three thousand."

              "Have counted fifteen motels so far. Why tiny town need so many motels?"

              Saul waited to answer until after Mavine, the seventy-something waitress, had brought their orders of Huevos Rancheros.

              "You know, I've asked myself that same question. I expect it's because so many truckers pass through here each day. Not only that, Van Horn is known as 'The Crossroads of the Texas Mountain Trail' so we get a lot of tourists who are on their ways to places like the McDonald Observatory, Big Bend National Park, or Marfa."

              "Marfa. Have heard of it. Is where strange lights appear?"

              "That's the place."

              "You have seen these lights?" Mag wanted to know.             

              "Nope, never have. I've had occasion to go to Marfa several times, even went one Labor Day during the
Marfa Lights Festival
, but I've never seen anything unusual. Hell, what I've seen here lately beats the crap out of anything Marfa has to offer!"

              Saul knew he was going to have a busy day at the office, that's why the men had driven their own vehicles into town. Even though Saul's house was no more than a fifteen minute walk from the office, he needed his Bronco readily available in case of emergencies. Mag, ham that he was, stopped in the office long enough to make Wanda's heart go pitter-patter. Once Mag had made his exit, Wanda commented, "It's men like him who make me wish my butt wasn't the size of Outer Mongolia!"

              Mag drove around town for a while and saw absolutely nothing that captured his interest. Yes, he had to admit to himself, the mountains were nice, but that was about it. The main drag didn't even have a street sign, or if it did it was extremely well concealed.

              Mag decided that he had seen more than enough of the pseudo-town, so he went back to Saul's place and began reading about Van Horn.

              Patsy could hardly move when she awoke. She had been plagued for years by degenerative disc disease and when it flared-up the pain in her back and left leg was unbearable. There really wasn't much Patsy could do about the discomfort; Ibuprofen took the edge off but she mostly had to lie around in a jackknife position. Dr. Feener had told her time and time again that if she would lose some weight she would probably experience fewer painful episodes. Was there, Patsy wondered, anything that doctors didn't think could be cured by weight loss? 

              Marybeth was tired when she awoke, but she got up, unpacked for herself and Patsy, and went downstairs to feed Penelope. She found the cat sitting by the kitchen door and assumed that she was awaiting her breakfast.

              "Okay, girl, here I am. Let's go in the kitchen and get some grub."

              But, once again, Penelope would not enter the kitchen, so Marybeth placed her food and water in the hallway.

              "You know, kid, first time someone steps in your food, you'll be glad to come into the kitchen."

              Charlie wasn't around, but there was a fresh pot of coffee brewing. Marybeth made some toast and when the coffee was ready, she took a tray up to Patsy.

              Charlie was cleaning the barn. Cooter had already gobbled-up his breakfast.

              "Listen, ol' son, yer friend, Penelope, is here. Onest I'm done with the chores, I'll bring'er out to see ya."

              Cooter's ears perked-up when he heard "Penelope." He and the cat had quite a friendship and whenever Pen came to the ranch she and Cooter were inseparable.

              About an hour later, Charlie went to the house and found Pen patiently sitting at the screen door.

              "Okay, catface, let's go see Cooter."

              No sooner had Charlie opened the door than Penelope hightailed it for the barn.

              "Damnedest thing!" Charlie smiled as he watched Pen and Cooter reunite.

              While Patsy napped, Marybeth cleaned house. It was obvious that Charlie had picked-up a bit but that he hadn't actually dusted or vacuumed.

              "Wonder how that happened?" Marybeth said to herself as she spied the Forsythe family picture that lay broken beneath the fireplace mantle.

CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT

              The literature Mag had picked up at the Chamber of Commerce was limited in its scope, and so, it appeared, was Van Horn. The town apparently owed its 1881 creation to the Texas and Pacific Railroad. Big deal, thought Mag, many towns arose in the West secondary to rail transportation. The area had also been home to hostile Apaches at one point in its history, but what part of Texas hadn't had its share of Indians? No, Mag decided, there was nothing about Van Horn's past that could explain its present, at least not as far as preternatural phenomena were concerned.

              Marfa, Texas, however, was a different matter. True, Marfa was about seventy-five miles away from Van horn, but so what? Since when did demons pay heed to mileage? Mag had heard of Marfa's famous "Mystery Lights," but he really knew nothing about them; he was surprised to learn that there had been reported sightings of the shining orbs for over a hundred years. The curiosity, also referred to as the "Ghost Lights," consisted of dancing or stationary balls of light, some colored, some not. By all accounts, scientific inquiry had failed to identify the oddity's origins. Could these lights, Mag wondered, be related to what was going on at the Forsythe ranch?             

              Saul had finally been able to contact Javier Gomez and was stunned by what the physician had told him. Paul had given Dr. Gomez permission to tell Saul everything, and he had done just that.

              "Dr. Gomez, I can appreciate how difficult it must be for you to even consider Paul's belief that something 'unique,' shall we say, is going on with him. And, I certainly don't want you to think I'm a resident of la-la land, but..."  And so Saul told Dr. Gomez about odors and abscesses and snakes. He didn't want his colleague to think he was totally bonkers, though, so he chose not to tell him about Hillie, devil-cats, disembodied voices, and Mag.

              When Javier hung up the phone, his first thought was, "Everyone in that fucking town is crazy!" After due consideration, however, he had to admit that what Dr. Feener had told him certainly lent credence to Paul's claims.

              "Shit," Javier mumbled aloud, "where's an exorcist when you need one?"             

CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE

              "Other than time-consuming and boring, it wasn't bad at all." Paul was referencing the stress test that he had just completed.

              "How about your leg, Dad? Much pain?" Starr inquired.

              "Actually, no. That's odd, too, because it hurt like the dickens last night. Hell, maybe the wounds are gone, miraculously cured like my hand. Wouldn't that just send Dr. Gomez over the edge? He'd have to consult his own bloody shrink!"

              "Paul, that's not funny...well, maybe it is just a little amusing," Tamara admitted.

              Right on cue, Javier entered the room and was greeted by laughter.

              "What's so funny?"

              "Private joke, Doc," Paul offered.

              Paul's leg wounds weren't gone, but they did show evidence of granulation tissue, a sign that they were beginning to heal.

              "I'll give you this, Mr. Forsythe, your body's restorative abilities are exceptional. And," Javier continued, "speaking of exceptional..." The doctor told the Forsythe's about his phone conversation with Saul.

              "Holy shit!" was all Paul could say.

              Javier joined Starr outside the hospital while she had a cigarette.

              "No lecture on the evils of smoking, Dr. Gomez?"

              "No, no lecture. In fact, may I bum one?" Javier had quit smoking years ago, but he badly/wanted a cigarette. "God, I'd almost forgotten how satisfying tobacco is." The doctor inhaled deeply as he savored the sweet rush of nicotine.

              "So, Doctor, do you still think we all belong in a loony-bin?"

              "Starr, I never..."

              "Of course you did," Starr interrupted, "and I can't say that I blame you. But now, perhaps, you are more willing to at least contemplate the possibility of an 'other-worldly' explanation for my father's present situation.

              "Please forgive me if it sounds like I'm proselytizing, I don't mean to. It's just that I need, for several reasons, for you to not dismiss us as crazies."

              "Several reasons?" Javier wanted to know what those reasons were.

              "Well, I just mean that Dad's health hinges on your ability to treat him properly...oh shit, that didn't come out right at all!"

              Javier could see the blush on Starr's face.

              "It's okay, I know what you mean. But what are the other reasons?" Javier thought he knew; at least, he hoped he knew.

              Starr was very attracted to Javier Gomez and she wanted to let him know that. But she was afraid. Afraid of rejection. Afraid that the timing was all wrong.Afraid of opening her heart to a man who, for all she knew, had a wife and children. Starr had successfully avoided meaningful romances for the past few years; sure, she dated, but she always ended her relationships before they really got started. Her failed marriage had negatively colored her perception of men and, more importantly, of herself. There was, though, something about this physician that made Starr want to destroy the personal barricades she had erected. Question was: Could/should she do so?

              "Dr. Gomez, I..." But Javier's pager suspended whatever it was Starr was going to say.              "It's Telemetry. We best go up there, it might be about your father.

              "We
will
continue this conversation later."

              The call from Telemetry wasn't about Paul Forsythe, it was about his wife. Tamara had fainted.

CHAPTER SIXTY

              Tamara's syncopal episode had been brief and she was conscious by the time Javier and Starr reached her.

              "Dr. Gomez, Mr. Forsythe asked us to page you when his wife fainted," reported the nurse. "Her blood pressure was 70/40 while she was unconscious; it's now 100/60. Even though there's no history of diabetes, I did a bedside blood sugar and it was 80.

              "Is there anything else you would like me to do?"

              Javier was impressed with the nurse's actions.

              "No, not just now. You did great. I'll take a look at her and proceed from there."

              Although pale and a bit shaky, Tamara did not display any signs that alarmed Javier. He suspected that in addition to not eating or sleeping well, she might be dehydrated. The heat had been unbearable lately and if she wasn't replenishing the fluids she was sweating away she very well could have fainted secondary to a resultant hypotension.

              "I don't think there's anything serious going on here, but I'd like to run some labs just to be sure.

              "Can you recall what happened just before you passed-out?"

              Tamara hesitated as she debated whether or not to be totally honest with Starr, Paul, and Dr. Gomez. She finally decided to be forthcoming.

              "The nurse had just finished taking Paul's vital signs and was on her way out of the room when a priest, who was apparently lost, stuck his head in the door to ask the nurse for directions. I turned to Paul to say something to him and...shit, you'll never believe me!"

              "Mom, I'll believe you. Go ahead."

              "Paul," Tamara addressed her husband, "your eyes were wide-open and your pupils weren't round, they were slit-like. They looked...they looked like reptilian eyes!"