Southern Gods (25 page)

“What is happening? I don’t understand. I feel like I’m going crazy.”

“Sarah, how you could possess two evil books in one place, it amazes me. But evil calls to itself. And it can change you, just by knowing it exists. Believe me.”

She nodded involuntarily, then said, “Yes.” She took another deep breath.

“I will be there as soon as possible, but it might not be until morning. Stay put and don’t think too much on the things you might have seen or read in the books. Keep your mind away from those subjects.”

“Okay. I’ll try.”

“
Dovidenja
, Sarah. I will see you soon.” He hung up, and Sarah replaced the receiver on its cradle.

She moved to the chair by the desk and slumped down in it, pulling open the drawer. From inside, she withdrew a pack of Pall Malls and lit one from a match. She took a huge draught from the cigarette and kept the smoke deep in her lungs, holding it in, then exhaled violently, blowing smoke toward the paneled ceiling.
Opusculis Noctis
and the
Quanoon
kept drawing her eyes back. When she shut her eyes, her mind painted lurid pictures of eviscerated girls and strange gargoyle-faced men. When she looked up, Alice was at the door showing the whites of her eyes. If Sarah had known any better, she’d think Alice was afraid. But that was just silly. Alice feared nothing.

“He’s awake. The giant,” she said, and turned to go back upstairs.

Chapter 14

H
e didn’t bother to cover up as she entered the room. His heavy body, thick with muscles and scar tissue, lay in an easy repose that she’d only seen in children. He watched her intently as she walked in the room, eyes flicking over her hips, breasts, hands, face. He smiled when he saw the handcuffs.

“You gonna lock me up?”

Well, he doesn’t look lost anymore
.

“Hi, Lewis. I’m Sarah Rheinhart.” Alice looked at her sharply. “And that’s Alice. We found you at the river, in a boat.”

“Bull,” he said.

“We did… we found you by—”

“No, that’s what everyone calls me.” He motioned down to his body as if to say,
this
. “Since I was a kid.”

He opened his mouth as if to say more, then shut it.

“Bull, you been messed up real bad,” Alice said, moving near the bedside table. “Been out for a coupla days now. We been taking care of you.” A pitcher sat on the bedside table near a glass. Alice picked up the pitcher and filled the glass with water.

There was a long silence.

“What’re you gonna do with those handcuffs?”

Sarah tossed them into his lap.

“I want you to lock yourself to the bed.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Everyone tells me you’re dangerous. I haven’t seen anything to disprove that.”

“What if I say no?”

“We’ll call the sheriff, and he’ll be here in minutes.” Sarah glanced at Alice. “Alice here will get the shotgun and blow your head off before you can get to the door.”

His expression didn’t change. There was no anger, no surprise, no shame. He snapped the handcuff on one of his thick wrists, lifted his arm over his head, and tried to snap the other cuff around one of the wooden struts of the headboard. His mangled, gauze-wrapped hand couldn’t work them shut.

“I’m gonna need help.”

Sarah approached him, slowly.

“Sarah, don’t,” Alice said. Her voice was tense. “Wait till I can get the shotgun.”

Sarah ignored her and approached the bed. She paused when she was in his arm reach. He remained still.

She snapped the cuff shut, locking him to the bed.

Alice sighed, explosively.

“Damnation, girl. Get away from him.”

Sarah ignored her.

“What happened?” Sarah said. “What happened to you?” She pointed to his bandaged hand.

He smiled, a painful thing for Sarah to watch. She could see the lost boy again.

“I’m much obliged to you both for fixing me up but I don’t know what to tell you ladies. I don’t want you to call the police or carry me off to the nuthouse.”

Sarah and Alice looked at each other.

“Bull, the police have already been here, not long ago. We’re supposed to call them the moment you wake up.”

He blinked. Sarah saw his jaw tighten.

“You got me locked up already. Go ahead and call them.”

“They said it was related to that fire at Ruby’s. They want to question you.”

He nodded and took a sip of water. Then his eyes went to the door.

Both women turned to find Franny and Lenora standing there, eyes wide. Fisk peeked around the door jamb.

Franny said, “Mommy? Is the dead man better now?”

Alice drew in a sharp breath, and Sarah said, “Yes, baby. It looks like it.”

Franny took two steps into the room, Fisk and Lenora behind her. She looked at Ingram. “It took six men to carry you. On a board. They dropped you once.”

He laughed, a big rumble coming from deep in his chest. The sound filled the room, reminding Sarah of her Uncle Gregor. He was always tickled by the absurd.

Ingram smiled at the little girl. “It sure feels like I got dropped. I think they might’ve bumped my head.”

Franny beamed.

“Naw. You was already all ripped up before they dropped you,” Fisk said. “Anyways, you hit the leaves and mud—hey! Why are you handcuffed to the—”

“Fisk!” Alice barked. “Get yourself downstairs! I’ll be down in a second to put you to bed. You girls go too. Go on!”

Ingram looked at his gauzed hand, then raised it to paw at his temple. He closed his eyes. “Wait.” He rubbed the sides of his head. “Did you say Fisk?”

He pointed his wounded hand at Lenora like a club. “Is your name Lenora?”

Her jaw dropped. She took a step back. “Momma, how’d he know that?”

Alice turned to Ingram, anger filling her face. “Mister, you best not be messing around with my children. You ain’t never gonna walk out that door.”

Franny moved closer to the bed. “What’s my name, mister? Do you know my name?”

He shook his head, a sad smile touching his eyes. “I’m sorry, sugar. I don’t. Just these two.”

“How the hell do you know my children’s names, and why shouldn’t we call the police right now?”

Sarah put a hand on Alice’s arm. But the man only stared at her with the same cool gaze as before, eyebrows raised as if to say,
Okay, what are you going to do?

Alice blanched. No one reacted to her like this.

“Maggie Washington,” Ingram said slowly. “Call her and ask about me.”

“You… you telling me you know my momma?”

He nodded.

Alice walked to the door. “Kids, come with me.” She marched out, whisking down the hall in her slippers. With one glance back, Franny followed Fisk and Lenora. She waved at Ingram, and he waved back, his mittened hand awkward in the air.

“How do you know Maggie?”

“She’s the housekeeper where I keep a room. Boarding house.”

Sarah took that in. There were gunshot wounds on the hard ridges of his stomach, on the left side. Old wounds, silver. For a moment, the images in the
Quanoon
flashed behind her eyes. And she remembered the person she had been before gaining that knowledge. Sarah retrieved the sheets wadded at his feet and threw them over him. She walked to the corner of the room, grabbed a chair, and returned to his bedside. She sat facing him, eyes serious.

“Give me one reason we shouldn’t call the cops right now.”

He blinked again. “I didn’t do anything wrong. I’m trying… I was trying to find a man.”

“You found him?”

He was silent for a moment. “Yes.”

“Did you kill him?”

He shook his head, eyes narrowing. “No. Hell no. He was already dead.”

“You have anything to do with the fire at Ruby’s?”

He didn’t say anything.

“So you did. Sixty people died there, you know.” She stood, smoothing her dress. “I can’t have you in this house if you’re dangerous.”

Alice bustled into the room.

“Momma said you’re okay, I guess. She got upset that you were hurt. Said you were a good boy. But messy. Told me to make sure you get better.”

He nodded, expecting it.

Alice moved behind Sarah, placing her big hands on Sarah’s shoulders. They both looked at Ingram expectantly.

He sighed, his chest rising and falling.

“I’ll tell you everything, but you have to listen to me fairly. And even if you don’t believe me… well… at least get me something to eat before you call the police.”

Sarah smiled thinly, not letting it touch her eyes.

“Spill it. Everything. And we’ll decide if we call the cops right away. Whatever you say, we’re gonna have to call eventually.”

He raised his eyebrow in an arch look that didn’t go well with his blunt features. He closed his eyes for a long time.

When he opened them, he began speaking in a low tone, as if repeating by rote what he’d done.

“I was hired by a man named Sam Phelps to find someone,” he began.

His tone frightened Sarah a little; here was a man who could divorce himself from himself so easily as to become an automaton.

When he was through, he shifted in the bed, sitting higher. “But there’s more to my story. This pirate station broadcasts music—Phelps played me a snippet of a song—by a musician named Ramblin’ John Hastur. Either of you ever heard of him?”

Sarah looked puzzled, shaking her head. Alice narrowed her eyes and peered at Ingram.

“What you wanna know about Ramblin’ John?” she asked.

He looked at Alice. “You heard of him?”

“Yes,” she offered reluctantly.

“What’ve you heard?”

“He a blues man. Sold his soul to the Devil, like they say about every blues man.”

“You heard anything else?”

“His music is crazy. Makes you wanna drink and—” She paused. “Make love.”

He continued to look at her, weighing her response.

“My man… my children’s daddy—” Her eyes blazed as if defying him. “He was a blues man too. He could sing… well, he could sing a girl right outta her clothes, he could.” She blushed. Sarah felt Alice’s hands squeeze her shoulders.

“He came home from
giggin’—
that’s what he called playing music,
giggin’—
and said he heard about a blues man over Desha County way, who could the change the weather and all sorts of other things with his music. Some good and some not so good. And Calvin—my man—he believed, and maybe I did too. A little at least. My momma always told me that the most powerful spells were sung, not spoken. And Calvin himself had a little of that, the magic in his voice. I mean, he was a damned fool, but he sure sung his way into my heart. And I
knew
he weren’t any good. But he got in anyway. So Calvin decided he was gonna find this blues man, who went by the name of Ramblin’ John Hastur. He left two, maybe three, years ago now and never came back. I thought he took up with another woman. That’s all I know.”

Ingram looked thoughtful as she spoke. His expression never changed, except once. When she mentioned Ramblin’ John Hastur, he winced.

He said, “Well, you’re partly right.”

He continued with his story.

Alice looked surprised when he mentioned KQUI. “It’s been off the air for a week or so. But that happens from time to time, after storms and such. We didn’t think nothing of it.”

Ingram nodded. “When I got to KQUI, there was no one there, and I got a bad feeling about the place. So I poked around a little. I found the owner lying dead on the floor right behind his microphones and records and turntable. He looked like he clawed his own face to shreds and his heart exploded. Can you guess what record was on the player?”

“Ramblin’ John,” Sarah said.

He nodded again. “It was rolling around at the end of the record, like when you put a phono on and let it play and don’t take it off at the end. You know?”

“Yes.”

“So I moved the needle back a little bit, just to hear it for a second, and the record got caught in a loop, between scratches. The music was… I don’t have words for it really. It touched me, and I don’t mean in a good way. I felt like I could murder somebody when I heard that music. But it caught me up in its web too, and it was hard for me to move. And even though the record was caught in a loop, the music grew. Got more… horrible. Till I couldn’t take it anymore. But it was too late by then, because the dead man on the floor started to get up and come after me.”

He held up his hands.

“Now, I know you’re thinking now that I’m insane or that I just didn’t realize that the man was asleep on the floor. No. I checked his pulse. He was dead. But once that music started playing, he got up and came for me.”

It was Ingram who looked defiant now. He looked at the women as if challenging them to argue.

“I don’t care if you believe me or not, it’s true. I’d searched the station and found a slip of paper saying that Ramblin’ John was gonna play at Ruby’s, so after that I checked into the Royale in Stuttgart to wait. I spent my time listening to the radio, searching for the signal coming from the station. I didn’t ever want to hear that sound again, but, what was I gonna do? If something like that can exist out there—”