Nancy K. Duplechain - Dark Trilogy 01 - Dark Bayou (17 page)

Lyla was glued to the screen while
Dirty Dancing
played. Carrie and I had seen it each a million times, so we exchanged girl talk for most of the movie. The conversation gradually steered toward what I’m sure was Carrie’s main reason for wanting me over in the first place.

“So,” she began, coyly, “what’s up with you and Lucas?”

I rolled my eyes. “Nothing.”

“C’mon! It is so not nothing. Everyone sees the way he looks at you.” I rolled my eyes again. “And the way you look at him,” she edged. I pursed my lips, but a smile worked the corner of my mouth. “You’ve been back for like a week, and you’ve already got him wrapped around your finger.”

“I don’t.”

“Yes you do. And given the fact that y’all use to date—”

“We never dated,” I whispered, annoyed.

“You dated Uncle Lucas?” Lyla asked, mesmerized by Patrick Swayze’s intimate dance with Jennifer Grey.

“No I didn’t!”

“What do you call it, then?” asked Carrie.

“He took me to cotillion one year, and he was miserable the whole time.”

“That’s not what I remember.”

“You make things out to be more than what they are.”

“A kiss is a kiss, Leigh.”

“You kissed him?” Lyla managed to pull her eyes away from the TV, and she was staring at me, excited.

I wanted to say
n
o
, started to say it even, but then I remembered. I remembered Lucas slow dancing with me. Couples all around us were making out on the floor. It was late in the evening and the song was one of the last to be played. We danced into a corner and, out of left field—

“They made out at our Junior Cotillion,” Carrie told Lyla.

“What?!” she said.

I didn’t know what to say. I had forgotten most of that night. I just remembered Lucas picking me up in that old truck of his and him sneaking off with some of the guys at the dance. I remembered them laughing a lot. Then I really remembered what happened.

“He was drunk!” I said, burying my head in one of the couch pillows. I heard Carrie and Lyla roaring with laughter.

“I can’t believe you MADE OUT with UNCLE LUCAS!” I kept my head buried in the pillow. I could feel my face getting redder and redder.

“Yeah. They were really getting into it, too!” said Carrie.

I picked my red face up from the pillow. “Carrie!” I scolded. She and Lyla laughed some more. I grew more annoyed by the second. “Always making something out of nothing,” I muttered as I got off the couch and went into the kitchen.

I opened the freezer door for some more ice cream, and I could still hear them howling it up in the living room. I shook my head, trying to let it go. I grabbed a pint of mint chocolate chip and a fresh spoon out of the drawer. I turned around to walk back to the living room and, as I did, I saw something outside, on the other side of the patio doors that opened to the kitchen. At first I thought it was a man, or at least his shadow. I froze, waiting for the shadow to move. It didn’t move, exactly, but it dissipated. It happened so quickly that I wasn’t sure if it was real or not, perhaps my eyes playing tricks on me.

I set the ice cream and spoon down on the counter and slowly walked up to the patio doors. It was hard to see much of anything outside. The light was on in the kitchen, and I mostly saw the room reflected back to me in the glass of the doors. But I could have sworn I had made out something there, behind the picnic table, in between the trees.

Sudden terror swept over me, a shocking jolt that made me freeze on the spot. My rational mind would always take over in these circumstances, telling me
It’s just your imagination
. This time, what it said chilled me.
It’s NOT your imagination
. There was something there. My rational mind, for once, agreed with my seemingly irrational instincts. My breath quickened and perspiration started to break through my pores. I had to be sure, though.

I slowly reached for the light switch. I turned it off and the yard on the other side of the glass was suddenly clear. And there, right in front of me, separated by one inch of glass, was the image of the man from Bancker. I gasped, and he grinned. And before my eyes, he exploded into a shadow, and that shadow formed the shape of a crow. It flew up and out of my sight. I started to shake.

“Leigh! Come back. We promise we won’t laugh anymore,” said Carrie, still laughing. I heard her shush Lyla, who was still giggling.

Not here. Not now
, I silently pleaded. If the Dark Man came for Lyla tonight, I wouldn’t know what to do. I flashed to the pictures that were left for Lucas in the envelope. The Dark Man was capable of physical harm. I didn’t have time to think. I went back to the living room and said the first thing that came to my mind. “I have to go to the bathroom.”

They stopped laughing, seeing the panicked look on my face. I didn’t do such a good job of pulling it together. “Do you want our permission or something?” asked Carrie.

I shook my head. I smiled sheepishly and ran down the hall to the bathroom. Once inside, I pulled my cell from the pocket of my jeans. I quickly dialed Clothilde’s house. It rang once, and she answered. Before I could say a word, she said, “He’s there.” It wasn’t a question. She knew he was here.

“Yes,” I said. “How did you –”

“Father Ben. He told me you would call. He wants to talk to you.” I heard her hand the phone to Ben.

“Leigh?” he said.

“Yes.”

“Okay. Did he do anything yet?”

“He scared the hell out of me, that’s what he did.”

“Listen to me carefully. Get a candle. A white one if you can. Light it and you and Carrie and Lyla sit in a circle, holding hands. And I want you to say these words.”

“Hang on,” I said. I frantically looked for something to write with and write on. I settled for one of Carrie’s eyeliners and some toilet paper. “Okay. Go slow.” I suddenly heard footsteps on the roof, walking over my head. “Never mind. Go fast.”

“Say: I ask for the White Light of the Holy Spirit to surround us now, shielding us from all darkness. I ask for the angels and saints to stand as sentinels, guarding us from darkness. I ask this in the name of the Father, the Son, the Holy Spirit and in the name of the Holy Virgin Mary. Amen.”

I finished marking my makeshift paper with the last word. “That’s it?”

“Yes. You should be okay tonight. He’ll get angry, but don’t worry. Now, before you go to bed, I want you to take the mirrors in the room where you’re sleeping, and turn them all around, so they’re facing away from you.

“Um … okay?”

“Dark is attracted to light. If it sees itself in the mirror, it’ll turn away and won’t bother you while you sleep.”

“Wish someone would have told me that a long time ago,” I muttered.

“It doesn’t protect your dreams,” he said, gravely.

“Okay. Thank you.”

“God bless. Good luck, Leigh.” He hung up.

I swallowed hard in my dry throat as the footsteps stopped. I quickly ran out of the bathroom and into the living room, carrying the toilet paper with me. I couldn’t tell Carrie what was going on, and I certainly didn’t want to scare Lyla. I tried to put on a smile. “Care, you have a candle?”

She furrowed her brows when she saw the scroll of toilet paper in my hand. “Uh, yeah?”

“How ‘bout a white one?”

“Why?”

“Can you get it? Please?”

She shrugged, got up and walked to an end table in the corner of the room. It had a cabinet built into it, and she reached in and pulled out a big white candle. “Will this do?”

“Got a light?” She reached into the cabinet again and pulled out a box of matches. I grabbed them from her and sat down in the middle of the room and lit the candle. “I just thought that we could all say a prayer together. You know, to kind of bless the night.” They looked at me funny, like I knew they would. “C’mon,” I said, patting the floor on either side of me. “It can’t hurt.” They looked at each other and then looked back at me. They shrugged and sat next to me.

“Leigh, does this have something to do with us teasing you? Because—”

“No! Not at all. Now let’s join hands.” I held out my hands on either side of me. They hesitated, but each took a hand and then linked their own hands together. I closed my eyes, mentally conjuring up the words I wrote on the toilet paper.
Dirty Dancing
was still on, and I suddenly felt very stupid reciting a prayer to ward off darkness while “I’ve Had the Time of My Life
”
played in the background and the scent of—
what is that?

“
What’s that smell?” I asked.

“Lemon Meringue Pie,” said Carrie.

“Huh?”

“The candle.”

“Oh.” I closed my eyes and tried to shake off the stupid feeling creeping up again, but I heard the footsteps once more. I wasn’t the only one.

“What’s that?” asked Lyla.

“Okay,” I said, trying to bring their attention back to the circle. “Y’all concentrate.” I started Father Ben’s prayer. “I ask for the White Light of the Holy Spirit—”

The electricity went out at that second, silencing the movie and, from what I remember, it was the part where Baby finally does “the lift,” with Patrick Swayze lifting Jennifer Grey over his head in a moment of triumph.

Lyla gasped and started to instinctively pull her hand away, but I held it tightly in mine. I started the prayer over. “I ask for the White Light of the Holy Spirit to surround us now, shielding us from all darkness—”

We heard the footsteps on the roof again, running quickly back and forth over the living room. “What’s going on?” Carrie asked, panicked. I held her hand tightly, too, and continued with the rest of the prayer.

“I ask for the angels and saints to stand as sentinels, guarding us from darkness. I ask this in the name of the Father—”

The footsteps stopped.

“The Son—”

The tree nearest the patio door scratched its branches up and down, sounding like the nails of someone trying to scrape their way in. Lyla started to cry, trying to pull her hand away, but I squeezed tighter.

“And the Holy Spirit—”

I heard a pair of wings flapping outside. Then another pair, and another, and another. The wings flapped violently in the night, soon droning like the hum of a loud machine surrounding us from all sides.

“What’s going on?!” asked Carrie, trying to pull away from me, but I held her hand as tightly as I could.

“And in the name of the Holy Virgin Mary. Amen,” I finished.

The wings stopped. The void of noise shocked us. We were afraid to exhale because the sound coming from our lungs would have been too loud for this moment. The lights suddenly came back on and, with it, the TV and the blaring of
Dirty Dancing
. We screamed in surprise. I let go of their hands. They stared at me, both shaking a little. Lyla was sniffling, her tears drying, too scared to cry now.

“What the hell was that?” accused Carrie.

“Care …” I started, not knowing what I could tell her to even begin to explain what had just happened.

“It’s him! It’s the old man!” cried Lyla. She was shaking a little and kept looking over her shoulder.

“What man?” asked Carrie.

“The old man with the white hair! He’s going to get me! Jonathan told me he was coming for me!” She crawled to me and hugged me, burying her face in my chest. I wrapped my arms around her and tried to soothe her.

“It’s okay, Lyla. He can’t get in here tonight. Don’t worry. I took care of it. That prayer we said was to protect us. He’s not coming in here.”

“What man? What’s going on, Leigh?” I looked at Carrie with a hopeless expression. “Leigh!”

“I can’t tell you. I’m sorry.”

“You can’t tell me? I think I should know who the hell was just walking on my roof and playing with the lights!”

“A prank, maybe?”

She glared at me. “A
prank
? C’mon, Leigh. The truth. Who’s the old man Lyla’s talking about?”