The Chardon Chronicles: Season One -- The Harvest Festival (16 page)

He stopped at a bed and breakfast that was a
block off the Main Street in the small town of Ripley. The B&B
was a big old victorian house. The furniture was out of date and
the bed was too soft, but the place was tidy. Every available
section of wall in the house had an image of Jesus--his face on
paintings, crosses, gaudy bloody crosses, baby Jesus, Jesus getting
flogged.

He pocketed the Randolph diary, picked up a
local paper and walked to a diner in town for an early dinner and
some apple pie. His waitress was named Carrie. She was in her early
forties and was very sweet and gracious and spoke with the twang of
a Kentucky accent. It was before the dinner rush and she kept his
coffee and water topped up regularly.

“What ch’all readin’?” she asked about the
notebook.

“Oh this--I picked it up in the city today.
It’s a diary of an extremely interesting guy--his name was Paschal
Randolph. See the date here--1873.”

“Oh wow, that’s interesting. I haven’t ever
seen something that old. Is he famous?”

“He was a bit of a rock star in his day, a
doctor and an adventurer. He was controversial too.”

“Oh really? ‘bout what?”

He blushed a little. “Well, he was a
practitioner of what’s known as ‘sex magic’.”

She chuckled and her eyes went big. “Oh my!
I’m no prude, but I’ve never heard of that!”

“Yeah, well it’s not a widely known subject,
probably since it’s combining two taboos in one thing…” he meshed
his fingers together. “He even went on trial for immorality, but
wasn’t convicted.”

“Interesting stuff… I need to get back to it,
though.” she topped his coffee up one last time, he left a big tip
and headed out.

He had an appointment to meet with a woman
who was selling items from her parents’ estate. The house was only
a few miles down the road and he had some time to kill so he went
down to a park on the river to read through the diary.

When Matt first read about Paschal Randolph,
he gathered the man was versed in the lore of the Western
Tradition, but was more of an actor than a true practitioner.
However, over the years, as Matt trod along his own winding path,
looking for knowledge of dark things in dark places, he started to
recognize the man as a kindred.

Though Matt was the eldest of the Wells
children, he was the last to get initiated into the family
business. The Wells way was to leave their children ignorant about
the lore and the contents of the library unless they happened to
stumble into it. Matt remained in the dark through his entire
childhood and well into his college career.

In those days, Matt was the black sheep of
the family. All through childhood, their father encouraged wildness
in the brothers and among their friends, and nudged them all to
bounce out of normal American life. A parade of seekers, con men,
hippies, gurus, farmers, mechanics, artists, and inventors visited
the farm through his childhood and provided a dizzying bunch of
unconventional life choices. However, Matt’s self discipline kept
him glued to his conventional path all through high school and into
college. He was preparing for a career. He attended college on a
scholarship, studied Physics, and planned on studying medicine. He
also prepared for family life, he was engaged to Telia in their
junior year. It was that summer, when he returned home to find
David and Robbie completely absorbed in studying the material in
the library, and having long conversations with their father.

Matt sat in on their conversation. His
carefully constructed model of the world began to corrode. David
was the first to completely abandon his former life. He was
absorbed into the network of family and friends that were attached
to the Wells farm and started traveling the world. Robbie hung on
through graduation from high school, but then began his work in
earnest. Matt returned to college for his senior year, but for the
first time, he had difficulty with his classes. His sharp and
strong mind was entirely occupied with trying to interpret what
he’d learned, and he started trying to gather more information.

He was drawn irresistibly to the storehouse
of odd knowledge in their library. He brought Telia home at the
start of winter break. For nine days and nights, he read. He was so
utterly absorbed that he barely ate or drank. On the ninth night, a
cold dark December night, a few days before Christmas, he passed
out and fell down the library stair ladder. He severely bruised his
eye and remained unconscious for hours.

He woke up in bed, with Telia sleeping next
to him. He sat up, in bed, completely disoriented.

“Where am I… Am I dreaming… Is this real…” he
held up his hand and stared at it in the bluish darkness.

She was still groggy, “Yeah, sooooo real…
Welcome back.” When he fell down the stairs, Telia was secretly
relieved. She’d been left alone for almost the whole break, now she
felt he’d be all hers. “You knocked yourself out.”

He muttered, “oh, there’s so much…” He saw
her body in the soft glow of light coming in under the door frame.
Her long blonde hair spilled onto the bed like a pool. She was
laying on her side with her head propped up on her hand. One of her
legs was over the covers. She was wearing a baggy sweatshirt and
shorts. Through the ringing in his head, Matt felt an irresistible
impulse to take her. He flipped the covers back and scooped her
into the middle of the bed.

“Whoa, what the....” she said. He started to
undress her and she helped slip the shorts off. He just pulled his
pants off and slid inside her and started pumping. She dragged his
T-shirt off and pulled off her sweatshirt. His weakness and the
pain in his head made the lovemaking a trial for him. As minutes
went by sweat beaded on his forehead and dripped on her. She
writhed beneath him biting into the pillow to keep quiet. Finally
he had a shuddering orgasm.

Matt’s phone rang.

“Hello?” he answered.

“Ya. I got your message about the sale… I’m
home.” a young woman answered.

“Be right there.”

He put the diary back in his pocket. He read
through the text a few times already. He was starting to think
Randolph really cracked it and had contact with “the other side” in
the weeks before he was attacked. There were subtle clues about his
methods all through his works. Unfortunately, it was a lot of chaff
and only a few kernels of wheat.

Matt drove the Civic to an expansive house on
a peninsula in the River. The house was still spectacular, a large
Georgian with a brick driveway that was guarded by two large lion
sculptures. He stopped at the end of the drive and checked them
out. They had been carved from limestone. The lawn and landscaping
weren’t tended to, however, and the house was surrounded by
nature’s return. Tall grass waved and saplings had cropped up
everywhere in the lawn.

He knocked on the front door then pressed the
doorbell button. An actual bell sounded, a deep chime.

The door opened. A scrawny thirty-two year
old woman held it close to her body. She wore a sweatshirt and some
dirty sweatpants.

“Hi, I’m Matt Wells, I called earlier.”

“Yeah, c’mon in. I’m Amy.” she said. Her skin
was pale and she had dark circles around her eyes, and her lips
were dry and cracked. She absentmindedly scratched her arm. Her
eyes sort of wandered around.

“Your ad was pretty general--are you selling
everything?” he looked around. The place had already been picked
over. There were dusty outlines of long-sold furniture. The
hardwood floors were all bare and slightly darker where rugs had
protected the floor from the sunlight.

“Yeah… there’s still some stuffs here. My
parents place. They’re both dead now.” she gestured vaguely. Her
speech was slightly slurred.

“OK. I’ll take a look around. Want to walk
with me?” he said. His heart went out to her. The tendrils of the
Brotherhood extended from opium fields in Afghanistan and crept
into her blood. She sold off the wealth of prior generations of her
family to keep her addiction fed, and she enriched and gave power
to a hidden force, an invisible empire.

They walked through the house. Nothing was
left for him.

“Amy, look, there’s nothing here that I’m
interested in. I’m sorry. Maybe the lion statues… I couldn’t take
them today, but I can get them trucked home in a couple of
days.”

“Can you pay me now…” she mumbled. She rocked
back and forth. “Or if there’s anything I can do for you instead…”
she twirled a finger in her oily hair and tried to look coy.

“I’ll give you $1500 for the lions.” he said.
Her face brightened. “I’ll give you $500 in cash now and the rest
when they’re picked up.”

“OK. That sounds great.” she smiled. “They
have names.”

He smiled. “Oh really?” He pulled out the
notebook. “What are they?”

“The one on the left’s Leo… the right one’s
Aslan.” He smiled indulgently and jotted them down.

He fixed her with his gaze. “Two more things.
I want you to remember a phone number. When you need to call,
someone there will help you. Understand?” He spoke the number.

She nodded. The words didn’t make much of an
impression through the fog of her mind. Then Matt sang it,
something like a Gregorian chant. The digits lodged in her long
term memory. She looked a little puzzled. “Mmm. OK.” she said and
repeated the number.

“And one more thing… Can you feel a presence,
a goodness, that there’s something that cares about your existence?
I see you’re on a really dark path right now, but you can always go
back into the light when you’re ready. The world needs you.” He
patted her shoulder.

“Mmm.” She nodded blearily. He paid her the
$500 and left. He made arrangements for the statues to be picked
up.

The school bus pulled into the parking lot of
Star Chariots
. Dana hopped out and ran around the bus and
put her hands up to the sky to stretch. Robbie, Johnny, and David
piled off behind her.

“Damn! I need a shower.” she said.

“Yeah, I think it’s time for a hotel. My back
needs a break.” Robbie said.

“You’re getting soft!” David laughed.

There was a tall metal sided building with an
office on one corner. They went over and Robbie peered through the
dark panes. He banged on the door. One of the bay doors slid open
and a stocky man in coveralls walked out.

“Oh shoot, is that Robbie Wells?” he
asked.

“Hey, Kenny!” Robbie went over and hugged the
man.

“You guys wanna come inside, lemme shut this
parts washer off.” Kenny walked over to the other side of the shop.
Two shiny tour busses were parked in the building.

Dana climbed inside one of the busses. She
poked her head out. “Wow, now that’s what we need. That’s traveling
in style.”

Kenny got back and was drying his hands off.
“Hands can get so dirty. It’s amazing they ever get clean
again.”

“Speaking of dirt…” David let the segue fall
like a lead brick, “what’s going on in Necropolis?”

“Oh man, I tell you what, the freak show
there gets worse every year, I swear.”

Johnny asked, “What’s Necropolis?”

David said, “Oh that’s just our name for the
Vampires in Nashville.”

Johnny said, “Vampires? Metaphorical, I
hope.”

Kenny said, “No, these blood suckers are
real.”

“What with fangs? Sleeping in caskets?”

Robbie laughed, “Ha! That’s the fictionalized
version, but they are real blood suckers. You ever hear of
Elizabeth Bathory?”

“Nope. Who’s that.”

Robbie said, “Well, every once in a while,
one of these freaks gets caught, and she is maybe the most famous
case. The reports say she bathed in virgin blood.”

Kenny jumped in, “but it’s not a bath; today
these guys get transfusions from kids. They keep ‘em locked up.
Some local, although lately they fly the blood in from god knows
where.”

Johnny was aghast, “that is fucked up! Who
does that?”

David said, “you see their faces on TV all
the time--politicians, diplomats, some ‘elite’ business men.”

Johnny was still trying to process it,
“Why??”

David answered, “keeps ‘em young--well
younger anyway. They can’t
stop
the aging process,
apparently, but the blood slows it down and keeps them trucking
into their hundreds. They don’t like the risk of switching bodies,
apparently. I guess it’s not a foolproof process.”

Robbie chimed in, “Remember those ‘entities’
I told you about? When they move into a body, they don’t like to
move out.”

Dana smacked Johnny’s ass. “Sometimes we help
em move along ahead of schedule.”

Johnny went pale. “Wait… How?”

Dana said, “we hunt the fuckers down and
snuff them out.”

“I need to get some air...” Johnny spun on
his heel and went outside quickly. Dana shrugged and followed.