The Influence (26 page)

He was humming again, he realized, and for a few seconds, before the hand shoved his head down and smashed it into a rock, both the humming and whistling were in perfect harmony.  

TWENTY FOUR 

Ross took a shower in the morning before eating breakfast and going out to feed the chickens, but halfway through, water began splashing against his ankles. The drain was stopped up, and he washed his hair quickly before the pool at his feet overflowed the lip edge of the stall. He got out, dried off, and a few moments later, when he turned on the hot water in the sink in preparation for a shave, that drain was clogged, too. Deciding to skip the shave, he put on his clothes and walked across the yard to tell Lita and Dave—
my landlords
, he thought with a smile—but they were having their own plumbing issues. Dave was using a plunger on the kitchen sink, and Lita called out from the bathroom that the toilet was still overflowing. 

“I don’t mean to pile on,” Ross said, “but my drains are all plugged up, too.” 

Dave had worked up a sweat, and he put down the plunger and wiped the perspiration from his forehead with the back of his arm. “That’s it. We’re calling someone.”  

Jackass McDaniels was at the ranch a mere twenty minutes later, the back of his truck packed with a sump pump and various types of drain-clearing equipment. “I was thinkin’ on the way over that maybe your septic tank’s full,” he said, getting out of the cab. 

Dave shook his head. “It’s not that. Each drain is backed up, individually.” He took the handyman on a tour of the house and guest house, Ross and Lita tagging along, and after McDaniels checked the septic tank just to make sure that wasn’t the problem, he brought in a coiled wire snake connected to an electric motor that he plugged into a kitchen wall socket. “We’ll start in here,” he said. “It’s closest to the main line.”  

The three of them stepped back as McDaniels put on a pair of rubber gloves, inserted the coiled cable into the drain as far as he could push it, then turned on the motor. A terrible clanking filled the room; it sounded as though the pipes were being torn apart. But the snake, fed by the handyman’s gloved hands, continued to unspool down the drain. The clanking became more muffled and then there was a loud wet pop.  

The stench that came from the sink was nearly overpowering and reminded Ross of the terrible smell in the root cellar. McDaniels flipped a switch on the motor to reverse direction, then shut it off and withdrew the snake. Tangled up in the coils was what looked like a mass of bright green string, but within seconds after hitting the air, the green filaments coalesced into a disgusting gray goop that dripped thickly onto the sink in bloblike patches. 

Lita’s eyes were big. “What the hell is
that?”
 

“I don’t know,” McDaniels said, “but that’s what was clogging up your drain.” 

Ross took a step forward to look at the gelatinous glop. He had no idea what it was or how it had come from that tangle of strange green threads, but he was pretty sure he knew its source. 

McDaniels turned on the water, washing everything down the sink, and leaving the tap on to make sure the drain was clear. It was. 

“Next,” he said. 

In the bathroom, the toilet water was already black and thick like oil after being plunged, and the handyman told them to wait while he got something out of his truck. “That snake’ll crack your porcelain all to hell. We need something a little more delicate for this job.” 

Lita was staring at the obsidian-colored water. “What do you think’s down there?” 

“What was that back
there?”
Dave asked, cocking his thumb toward the kitchen. 

Ross didn’t say anything, but he thought about the chickens and the bees, the simultaneously clogged pipes, and wondered if the ground beneath them was contaminated, if that monster in the shed had somehow tainted the earth for miles around and the poison was seeping up through the thin spots and causing havoc. 

McDaniels returned with a handheld device from which protruded a long thin probe. “I think this’ll work,” he said. It did, and this time there was nothing unusual to see when he withdrew the tool. 

It was another story in Ross’ shower, where the water had not gone down and there were tiny creatures
swimming
in the water. Buglike, shocking pink, the size of paperclips and almost as flat, they had appendages that approximated human arms and legs, and looked like miniature Olympians breaststroking their way around the pool. The creatures had clearly come up through the drain, though no new ones were emerging at the moment, but their presence gave McDaniels pause, and he hesitated before inserting the snake. 

The handyman glanced back at Dave, Lita and Ross. “If any of you have any idea what’s goin’ on here, you better fill me in, cuz I’m completely lost.” 

“Not exactly,” Ross said. “Not
specifically
. But I’m pretty sure of the original source.”  

The three of them told McDaniels what they’d seen at Cameron Holt’s place. The description of the monster matched his recollection from New Year’s Eve, but the handyman seemed surprised by the account of Holt’s workers all worshipping the shed. Even more surprising to him was the description of Holt’s odd subservience. “That sure as hell don’t sound like the Cameron Holt I’ve come to know and hate.” 

“It’s because of…” 

“The angel’s influence?” McDaniels said. 

“I’m not sure I’d call it that,” Dave admitted. 

“To be honest, it’s brought me nuthin’ but good luck.” 

“That’s not what it’s brought everyone,” Lita said. 

“I know. I heard.” He looked toward the pooled water in the shower and the little pink creatures swimming in it. 

“You know, I’m not religious,” Dave said. “I don’t believe any of that happy horseshit. But I’ll give you this: that thing has power. Dead or alive.” 

“I’ve been thinkin’ that, too,” McDaniels told them. “But how’s that even possible?” 

“The way I figure, it’s like nuclear waste. You know how those spent fuel rods are all used up but still radioactive and will be for another thousand or something years? It’s the same situation.” 

Lita nodded in agreement. 

“The only thing is,” Ross said, “it’s not consistent; it’s not predictable. Logically, the people closest to the body should be the most affected. But it doesn’t seem to work that way. It’s random. Even the effects vary in a non-patterned way.” 

“My cousin the engineer,” Lita said, smiling. 

“It’s something we have to consider,” Dave admitted.  

Lita put a hand on the handyman’s shoulder. She nodded toward the shower. “I understand if you don’t want to—” 

He pulled away, offended. “Don’t want to what? Do my job?” 

“It’s just those
things
in the water...” 

But he’d put on his gloves and was already shoving the cable down the drain. He plugged in the motor, started it up and fed the snake into the pipe. Black gunk bubbled up, obscuring the swimmers and filling the room with a foul odor far worse than that of the kitchen sink in the Big House. Seconds later, the water began to drain, and in moments the shower stall was empty save for a thin layer of black silt on the tiles. McDaniels turned on the shower and washed the residue down the drain, letting the water run for a few minutes to make sure everything was clear. Turning off the water, he shook his head. “I just don’t understand where this stuff’s coming from,” he said. “This ain’t an open system. You got a septic tank, and all your drain pipes lead to the main line, which goes there.” He took a deep breath. “I don’t even want to
think
about what’s in that septic tank.” 

Ross stared at the shower nervously, then looked over at the sink and the toilet. He felt uneasy. What if he was shaving and something came out of the sink? Or, even worse, if he was taking a dump… 

He pushed the thought from his mind. 

“You want me to call Fred Hanson, have him come out here and vacuum out your tank? Just in case?” 

Both Dave and Lita nodded. “Sounds like a good idea,” Dave said. 

“I’ll ask him if he’s come across anything else like this lately. Anybody’s likely to know, it’s Fred.” 

“In the meantime?” Lita asked him. 

“Keep your eyes open.” He gestured toward the toilet. “And, I was you, do your business quickly.” 

He picked up his equipment and headed outside, the three of them following. “So how much do we owe you?” Dave asked. 

“I don’t know. Ten bucks?” 

“Ten dollars? Come on, I know it’s more than that.” 

“I told you, that angel’s been good to me. I’m gonna have more money than I know what to do with. And if you can’t use your good fortune to help out your friends…” He held up a hand as Dave took out his wallet. “In fact, this one’s on the house. I know Fred’ll charge you up the yingyang for scoopin’ out your poop hole, so just consider this one a freebie.”  

“Hold on a second,” Lita said. She ran into the house and hurried back moments later with two jars of honey. “Here. We’ll barter instead of pay.” 

McDaniels grinned. “You know I won’t turn down free honey.” 

“Then it’s a deal,” Dave said. “You want some more? Because—” 

“No, this is plenty. Thankya.” The handyman lifted his snake motor onto the back of the pickup. 

“You’re a good man,” Lita said. 

The handyman smiled widely. “I am, ain’t I?” He finished packing up and walked around to the driver’s side of the cab. “I’ll call Fred as soon as I get back.” 

“Thanks again,” Dave said. “Appreciate it.” 

Ross announced that he was going to feed the chickens and check for eggs, and both Dave and Lita said they’d come with him. To the surprise of all, the birds were acting perfectly normal, and, just as surprising, they collected nearly three dozen eggs—all of which appeared to be normal as well. Dave went to check on his bees, and Ross followed Lita over to where the goat and her horse were penned up. Again, there was nothing unusual to be seen. It was as if the past few weeks had never happened. 

“Honey!” Dave announced from the other side of the house. “We have honey!” 

“Maybe whatever it was seeped into our pipes instead,” Lita speculated. “Maybe the ground’s clean now.”  

It made no logical sense, but then nothing made much sense these days, which meant it was just as valid an explanation as anything else. For some reason, Ross was reminded of a Dr. Seuss book,
The Cat in the Hat Comes Back,
where a red ring around a bathtub transfers from object to object until it ends up contaminating all of the snow outside of the children’s house.  

“I think that’s yours,” Lita told him. 

Ross was confused. “What?” 

She pointed to the shack. “The phone. I think it’s yours.” 

He heard the ringing now and hurried over. He wasn’t sure how long it had been going on, but whoever was calling did not hang up, and he grabbed the handset. “Hello?” he said breathlessly. 

It was Jill, calling to tell him that she hadn’t found out anything. She had talked to Michael Song and to Father Ramos, but neither of them had any insights—or at least none they were willing to share. Father Ramos, in particular, seemed guarded, almost as though he was hiding something, she said, and while that was definitely out of character for him, a lot of people were behaving in ways that they ordinarily wouldn’t. 

Was
he
behaving oddly? Ross wondered. He didn’t think so, but then everyone probably thought they were acting normally. 

He thought of the inappropriate dreams he’d had about Lita. 

“So no one seems to know what that thing is,” Jill said. “You didn’t happen to get a picture of it, did you?” 

He hadn’t even thought of that.
Stupid
. He’d had his phone with him and could have easily snapped a photo. “No,” he said. “I wish I had.” 

“But you’d recognize it if you saw it again, right?” 

It had been curled up in a fetal position, so he wasn’t exactly sure what its body looked like, but there was no way on earth he could ever forget that face. “I’d recognize it.” 

“Could you draw it?” 

“I don’t think so. I’m not really…I don’t know how…” He took a deep breath. “I can’t draw.” 

“Could you describe it so I could draw it? Like a police sketch? You describe the nose, the eyes, whatever, then you look at my drawing and tell me if I have to make something a little bigger or move something to the right…” 

“Sure, I can do that.” 

“All right, then. If I can come up with what you think is a pretty fair approximation, we can scan it into your computer—you have a scanner, don’t you?” 

“What kind of an engineer would I be if I didn’t?” 

“We can scan it into your computer and then show it around to, I don’t know, anthropologists or parapsychologists or comparative religion experts or something, and see if anyone recognizes it and knows what’s going on.” 

“That’s not a bad idea,” he said admiringly.  

“I’m surprised you didn’t think of it.” 

“Well, I…” 

“It’s probably part of the same behavioral pattern that keeps men from asking directions. You guys just want to stumble along by yourselves and try to figure things out on your own, even when there’s a whole world out there waiting to help you.” 

“I was going to say it was a lack of imagination on my part, but I like your explanation better.” 

“So when do you want to do it?” 

“How about tomorrow?” Ross said. “This is actually supposed to be my first day of work and it’s half-gone already.” 

“Oh, that’s right.” 

“I have a bunch of emails to read and specs to sort through, and I want to make a good impression. My friend Alex kind of went out on a limb for me.” 

“I understand. Do what you have to do. Call you tonight?” 

“I’ll be waiting,” he said. 

“With bated breath?” 

“With my pants around my ankles.” 

She laughed. “That’s what I like to hear.” 

They hung up, and he actually did turn on his computer, but there was the sound of a loud engine in the yard, and he looked out the window to see what looked like a miniature tanker truck pull up in front of the Big House. It had to be Jackass McDaniels’ friend Fred, the septic tank servicer, and, unable to stifle his curiosity, Ross went outside to see what was going on.