Dead Souls (15 page)

At the yellow-painted crosswalk, Daniel paced across the street, eyeballing a small group of older kids wearing worn denims and white tee shirts. They appeared to be giving him the once-over as they leaned into one another and shared some sort of burning secret. Daniel grew suddenly hot. His tee-shirt, gripping every roll of flesh on his torso, was striped thickly with sweat. The smoky odor was still on him, like rot on a dead fish, seeming to regenerate itself with the addition of his perspiration. He pulled his attention away from the other kids (he could see that there were three of them, all with hair long enough to be tied up in buns, like Elizabeth's, although he doubted that these boys smelled like strawberries), and made his way into the cool interior of
D'Agostino's
Drugs.

Now how come they aren't in school, like the other kids? Mom had mentioned something once about school being out in the Summer. If this is true, then why were those other kids at school? I wish I could understand all of this!

At once Daniel saw the comic book rack on the left alongside the window, and he licked his lips with excitement. This was his third trip into town (all to
D'Agostino's
Drugs), fourth if you counted the first time he came with his mother. Each and every time he'd
beelined
for the rack with the thin colorful paper magazines that cost twenty-five cents. Now here he was again, spinning it leisurely, checking out the covers and once again wondering if he were allowed to pick them up and scan the insides.
Superman
.
Spiderman
.
Tarzan
. Who were these mysterious characters, and what roles did they play in society? Daniel considered buying one, after all it was only a quarter, and would his mother really notice twenty-five cents missing from the change?

He backed away from the rack and walked down the aisle with a sign overhead that said
First Aid
. Here he nosed through a variety of bandages and balms, looking for the specific ointment his mother had asked for:
Bacitracin
. He eventually located it, taking his time with the very simple task of plucking it off the shelf—he really wanted this journey to last! After all, God knew what fate awaited upon his return home to Benjamin's stewing rage.

He paced up to the counter. There was an elderly woman there wearing polyester from head-to-toe, with scuffed penny-loafers and gray hair
permed
into a standing beehive. She was engaged in conversation with the person behind the counter, a middle-aged, nearly overweight man whose name tag said 'Ted'. She was droning on about 'Anna' who was heading off to college in Bangor next week. Probably her daughter. She turned, looked at Daniel, and said, "Well Mr. Pharmacist, you have another customer, so I'll be on my way!" She smiled then marched down the aisle marked 'School Supplies'.

Ted smiled at Daniel. "You saved the day."

"Pardon?"

"Mrs.
Darmody
talks too much."

Daniel grinned, unsure if he was supposed to laugh at that revealing little tidbit. He stepped up to the counter and placed the tube of ointment down.

"Is that all?"

Daniel hesitated, then asked, "How much is it?"

Ted turned the tube over and displayed the price tag to Daniel. "Two-forty-nine."

In a spontaneous move, Daniel said, "No, wait," then paced briskly to the front of the store and grabbed the first comic he saw:
Superman's Foes
. He ran back to the counter, overcome with excitement, little shivers racing across his jiggling flesh. "I hope this doesn't get me into trouble." He placed the comic on the counter, figuring he had a good deal of punishment cut out for him anyway.

Ted grinned and raised an eyebrow. "You're the Conroy boy, right?"

Daniel nodded.

Ted leaned forward, elbows on the counter. He gripped the comic between his fingers. "It's my suggestion that you don't let either of your parents see this."

Eyes wide and alert, Daniel nodded again. "Okay." He saw a glimmer of knowledge in Ted's eyes—apparently the pharmacist had heard stories about his family.
Did he know about Osiris and his father's obsession?

Ted slid the comic into a separate bag, then reached down behind the counter and grabbed another one:
The Incredible Hulk
. He slid that into the bag too. "No charge for these, son." His eyes twinkled dryly, as if unexpectedly caught beneath the sun's rays.

Daniel was speechless. He'd never received a gift before, except at Christmastime, and even those were something he couldn't make any interesting use of, like a new bible, or a polished cross. Or an incense burner.

Ted smiled grimly, as though feeling sorry for Daniel, then slid his gold wire-rimmed glasses up on the bridge of his nose. "I've attended your father's services in the past. I've seen you perform altar duties."

Daniel smiled back, hands gripping the paper bag. His palms left wet irregular patches on the dry brown surface. They resembled the sweat stains on his shirt.

Ted placed the ointment in another, smaller bag and handed that to Daniel. "Here
ya
go, young man."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure."

"Gee, thanks Ted...uh, Mr. Pharmacist." Daniel moved to leave, then turned around and asked, "Sir…can I ask you a question?"

Grinning, Ted nodded, eyebrows arched. "Sure."

"My mother told me once that school was always closed for the summer. So…why are those kids up there?" Daniel felt a tightness in his chest, as though he might've just brought up a subject he had no business in.

Ted smiled, not quite so happily as much pitifully. "Probably summer school for those who didn't make the grade. Although, now that I think about it, school does start next week. Could be that some of the kids are starting a week early to try out for the football team."

Daniel didn't quite understand all of Ted's explanation. He replied, "Thanks," then quickly retreated down the 'school supplies' aisle. He could sense Ted watching his lumbering departure. Without stopping, he peeked at the turnstile with the comics one last time, then exited the store.

When he came out onto Main Street with both bags gripped in his right hand, he saw the three big kids from earlier crouched on the curb to the right of the drugstore. They were laughing and smoking cigarettes, something he'd witnessed being performed only by adults in the parking lot outside of his father's church. Common sense told him to retrace his steps back into the cool, comfortable shelter of the store, but he ignored his voice of reason and paced along the curb, gripping the two bags more tightly in his sweaty hand.

One of the kids looked up and saw Daniel intending to pace by them. He elbowed the biggest kid at the front of the pack, who immediately pinned Daniel with a pair of piercing blue eyes. The third kid, at the rear of the pack, took a few more seconds to realize that the moment they'd been waiting for had finally arrived.

The kid in the front, the leader it seemed, mocked Daniel with a voice deep in the throes of adolescence: "Hey fatso…
watchya
got in the bag?"

"
Git
'
im
, Mack!" the boy in the back yelled.
Mack
. A suitable name for a fifteen or sixteen year-old boy who was almost as big as the truck it implied. His arms and legs were thick with
farmboy
muscles. His hair was long and straight and straggly, the unwashed ends reaching down over his shoulders like the vines in the woods behind the barn. His tee-shirt had a large variety of stains on it, and he retained the collective odor of most of them.

Daniel made a valiant attempt to walk by the trio, pretending not to see them at all (which was kind of silly because as soon as Mack asked about the bag, he hid it behind his hefty midsection).

A calloused hand grabbed Daniel's arm roughly, and he screamed.

Immediate laughter followed. Daniel twisted around and shrank back against the hot brick facing of Goodman's Cleaners, next to
D'Agostino's
Drugs. The three big kids (now looking even bigger) dragged him a few feet into the alley between the two stores. They slammed him against the wall alongside a small green dumpster and formed a impenetrable semi-circle around him.

Mack, hair hanging in his eyes, said, "You got fat in your ears too? I said…what's in the bag?" His lips thinned and Daniel could see a layer of spit coating them like varnish.

"Nothing," Daniel replied
mousily
, tears welling in his eyes. Rapid fear ripped through his body, and his fingers loosened on the bags.

"You know," Mack said, "If there's one thing I hate, it's a liar." His face contorted into something that matched the insanity in his eyes.

He looks like my father
…

Mack reached quickly for the bags. Daniel ducked and flinched away.

"Grab hold of him, guys."

The two kids in the back, near mirror images of Mack, leaped forward and latched onto Daniel's arms. Daniel howled in fear, and in a bit of pain too, realizing that despite all of Benjamin's punishments and the pain and heartache that came with them, he had always emerged from them safe and sound.

But here and now? This was something entirely different. These strange kids were fueled by a different fire, one rife with random detestation, with irrational anger. The outcome of
this
situation was completely unknown. And highly disconcerting.

The tears welled even further in Daniel's eyes, and he prayed that the kids didn't see them, despite envisioning that many tears would be shed before this confrontation was over.

"Hey fatso," Mack said. "You sound just like the puppy we drowned last week." The kid gripping his right arm laughed and gave it a sharp twist. The pain ran all the way to Daniel's shoulder, and he howled again, the bag nearly slipping free of his loosening grasp. He made an attempt to break away. The two kids gripped him even tighter. They pushed him hard against the brick wall and his breath fled his lungs in a painful rush.

Mack reached forward and grabbed the collar of Daniel's shirt. He pulled downward, ripping the thin cotton tee in half. His belly and chest, white and blinding, fell out in a bloated flop.

"Holy-
moly
!" Mack shouted, eyes wide with disbelief. "What in the hell is
that
?" He pointed to Daniel's chest.

His two accomplices, keeping Daniel at bay, twisted around to take part in the revelation. Daniel craned his neck and looked out of the alley for help. He saw some people on the sidewalk across the street, but they were at least a hundred feet away (might as well have been a light year away). He shouted, "Leave…me…alone!"

"What
is
that,
fatboy
?"

"Leave me!"

"Answer my fucking question!" Mack threw a swift jab into Daniel's stomach. A knifing pain stabbed Daniel's lungs as they again emptied themselves of air. He wondered how Superman or the Incredible Hulk might have handled the situation. Despite his unfamiliarity with the superheroes, he guessed they would have found some way to fix the bad guys real good. They certainly wouldn't have started bawling uncontrollably, which was what he was doing right now.

The kid holding his right arm teased him in falsetto: "Aw…the baby's got a fucking boo-boo!" He howled in laughter, and the kid on the left joined in.

But not Mack. He was holding his gaze still and firm on Daniel's scar…which frightened Daniel real bad.

Mack took his index finger and pressed it against Daniel's scar. "That hurt,
fatboy
?"

Daniel shook his head.

Mack pressed it harder, digging a dirty fingernail into the gnarled skin. "How about now?"

Daniel grimaced. Despite the thick appearance of his scar, it had a few clusters of nerves that when touched sent a jolt of pain across his chest. Mack had managed to ferret one out, and it nearly made Daniel pass out.

Mack reached into his back pocket. Brought out what looked like a knife without a handle. When he pressed the small silver button on top, a blade shot out.

The fear in Daniel erupted. His heart leaped about in his chest like a monkey in a cage. He began to rock frantically back and forth in a fruitless attempt to escape, and at one point almost managed to tear an arm away, but the boys were too big and too strong for him, and in tag-team fashion, slammed him back against the brick wall.

His spine and skull collided with the hard surface. A hostile blackness filled his sights, and this time it felt as though the air in his lungs had him left for good. His mind sputtered crazily,
I'm an animal. I'm snared in a trap! Yes I am!
The
D'Agostino's
Drugs bags fell from his hand to the ground, and were quickly retrieved by Mack.

"Don't let him do that again!" Mack yelled, rifling through the bigger bag. He removed the comics and hurled them to the floor. He plucked the ointment from the second bag and peered at it like an entomologist might a rare insect.

Daniel tried to wrestle free. Mack lunged forward. He pressed the blade of the knife against Daniel's scar. It felt hot,
like a brand
.

"
This
hurt?" Mack asked, grinning.