Fear Not the Dark Page 5

  The pseudo Priest King gave Galea a final, inscrutable look before turning around and heading for the door. “As you wish. My intent was not to frighten you.” Without further argument he took unhappy advantage of the exit. One last frowning glance over his shoulder at Marley and Galea and then he was gone. Marley closed the front door behind him and shot the deadbolt home then leaned her back against the door for a moment. Felt her adrenaline rush begin to fade.

  “Are you all right?” Marley was feeling a little shaky now that the intruder had left. Such a strange duck. Priest King of Whosit. Galea nodded. There was a strange gleam of good humor in her eyes and she didn’t seem like someone who had survived an ordeal.

  “Are you sure you don’t know that guy?” Marley asked again.

  Galea shrugged wordlessly, her eyes sliding away from Marley.

  “So you didn’t let him in?” It seemed pretty clear that Galea did know the intruder, and had probably let him inside the house herself, but Marley asked anyway.

  Surprisingly, the child denied it. “He came here by himself.”

  Marley didn’t push it. Galea must have had her reasons for being evasive, but unless she wanted to speak about it, Marley knew there would be no point in trying to force any secrets from her. Once upon a time, she herself had been a stubborn child (fortunately as an adult she’d completely outgrown this) and she knew that Galea would confide in her if and when Galea decided the time and place were right.

  Two mugs of hot cocoa and several pecan cookies in the kitchen ten minutes later set things more or less right between the two of them. They sipped in silence, munching on their late night snack while Marley prudently stifled the many questions she wanted to ask.

  Ultimately she decided not to call the police and report the intrusion. Why make an issue of something that hadn’t really been a problem? After all, despite having chosen an awkward hour to drop by unannounced the lunatic Priest King had done no actual harm. He hadn’t hurt anyone or stolen anything and had even gone peacefully following her request.

  Besides, Marley felt pretty certain that although Galea had denied knowing the intruder, they were somehow related. Their matching, bizarre clothing could only lend itself to this conclusion. Marley figured her questions could wait until Alison had a chance to look into Galea’s situation. Alison was the girl’s best chance.

  CHAPTER 10

  October 30th – 8:00 a.m.

  Marley had formed a plan of action for the next morning that consisted of dropping Galea off at The Kid Factory with Alison, then meeting The Dark in Uptown to give him the tour of Sherman’s Books he’d requested the night before. But in the morning Galea was gone.

  Just like that, without even saying goodbye or leaving a note. The purple velour sweat suit Marley had given her the night previous had been neatly folded and put on a chair. The bed was tidily made. Marley worried that the Priest King of Whatsit (what had he called it? Urrp? Urk?) from last night had returned to kidnap the girl but she had to admit that if he’d done so Galea had gone with him willingly, as evidenced by the absence of any signs of a struggle.

  And considering Galea’s uncanny resemblance to the fellow and the similarity of their clothing it had been obvious that they’d been related to begin with. So who was Marley to object if the child left voluntarily with Mr. Weirdo Shoes. Blood was thicker than a couple of cheese sandwiches, wasn’t it? What right did she have to intervene? But then again why had the little girl run away in the first place, and was she safe? These and other unanswered questions left Marley feeling vaguely uneasy.

  A quick glance around the house reassured Marley that it was undisturbed from the night before. Nothing obvious had been stolen or gone missing. Fortunately Galea and her drop-in relative hadn’t belonged to a gang of thieves and Uncle Max’s valuables were still right where he’d left them.

  But even so there was some mystery as to the exact method of Galea’s departure. The chain locks were still in place, locked from the inside on both the front and back doors. How could Galea have put them back in place after she’d left the house? Could she have left via open window somewhere? Finally, after a top to bottom search of the premises (still tightly locked) yielded neither explanation for the girl’s disappearance nor obvious means of her egress, Marley gave up looking for clues, disappointed.

  Even over the course of a few short hours the child had grown on her somehow. Marley hoped that Galea was safe and tried not to think about how the little girl might be out there somewhere, alone with a crazy man. Maybe Alison would know what to do. She’d give her friend a call later.

  Since it was early and Galea was no longer a situation that needed handling, Marley realized she had some time to herself before her appointment with The Dark at Sherman’s Books. It had been over a week since she’d enjoyed a proper workout, what with everything that had happened, so she decided to go for a run down around Lake of the Isles.

  Out of habit Marley clipped a small canister of mace to the belt of her running suit. Uptown was quite civilized and mostly Marley met nice people, other runners, walkers and the occasional skate boarders out on the running path around Lake of the Isles. But then again there had been that big dog last night and then Werther and Mr. Priest King. One never knew. Better safe than sorry.

  Jogging up and down in place on the sidewalk for a moment or two, Marley stretched her legs while deciding to take the small foot path leading into the woods from the parking area over to the lake. Punching the air with short, energetic jabs (good for cardio) Marley headed out on her first really solid run in nearly a week.

  Down the parking lot and toward the lake Marley flew, finding her rhythm. She felt better and better as her breathing settled from raggedy gasps into a fast and easy cycle of in and out. Even though Lake of the Isles was usually a popular destination for fitness freaks of all kinds, Marley was lucky to be one of a few people taking advantage of the fine morning.

  A young boy and his father were flying a long-tailed green and red dragon kite over the parking lot and Marley swerved off the trail to avoid interfering with the little boy’s trajectory as the kite swooped sharply down toward a clump of willow trees by the water’s edge.

  Feet slapping the trail as sweat broke out between her shoulder blades, Marley ran through the woods, enjoying the sweet smell of the clean air around her. Past trees that grew thick and dense, taller and older. Past vines which twisted up and around themselves, forming leafy tangles that wrestled for a patch of light, whispering in the wind.

  Eventually Marley realized she’d been pounding trail hard for more than five minutes but hadn’t yet reached the edge of Lake of the Isles. She should be there by now. She’d cut through the woods to save time and the lake should have come into view already. Moreover, while she’d been lost in thought the path beneath her feet had grown much wilder and the trees stranger, their branches gnarled.

  Looking around in wonder Marley realized the area was utterly unfamiliar and the trees and vegetation unlike anything she recognized from her previous runs. She was completely and truly lost, but this was impossible. After all it was Uptown, and how far could a person actually go in any direction without stumbling across some form of civilization?

  Checking her wrist compass Marley was alarmed to see the needle spin around and around like the crazy tail of a bobble-headed dog she’d bought years ago at the state fair. No help there. Marley ran on, heading in what she felt to be a westerly direction and fighting a growing sense of disquiet. The lake had to be just over the hill ahead of her. She was bound to see a familiar landmark any second now.

  A wind rose suddenly, its keening wail caught in the clawing branches of trees all around her. Ugly grey clouds above churned into dark purple. Glancing worriedly up at the sky Marley realized with an oh-no
feeling of dread that it was going to storm any minute. Really storm. She’d better head back home.

  Lightning cracked and thunder banged madly overhead as Marley turned and sprinted back the way she’d come. Rain drenched her immediately and she looked for shelter somewhere, anywhere. Squinting through a blinding wind Marley could see a light shining through the trees, flaring through the storm about a hundred feet from the running path. Marley ran toward the light, hoping for a gazebo or a shed. Or even a bathroom, she wasn’t picky. Any Porta-potty in a storm.

  The source of the light turned out to be a small mobile home parked under a cluster of oak trees. Its shiny, sausage-shaped aluminum body sported two small metal chimneys, four little curtained windows like portholes and a metal door which opened between the small windows. Black and white rearing unicorn splash flaps adorned all four wheels.

  As Marley drew nearer the small metal door in the side of the vehicle opened and a little old lady leaned out into the pounding rain, waving an arm to beckon Marley closer. “This way dearie, come this way,” her voice was faint against the howling wind.

  CHAPTER 11

  October 30th – 9:00 a.m.

  Marley ran forward and ducked under the small tin canopy which extended over the door, climbing up two small metal steps into the warmth of the old lady’s mobile home. She wiped mud from her feet as best she could on the doorstep.

  “Welcome dearie. Have a seat.” The old lady closed the door behind Marley just in time, right before the rain began to come down in buckets. Forget cats and dogs, it was pouring donkeys and mules out there. Great globs of water came smashing down on the metal top of the mobile home, making a strangely musical racket.

  “Thank you so much for letting me wait inside with you. I don’t know where that storm came from. It was sunny just a few minutes ago. By the way, my name is Marlyn.” Marley thanked her hostess, introducing herself as she took a seat on one of two small wooden chairs in the center of the mobile home.

  The old lady smiled and turned away to stir a pot of something brewing on the stove. “My name is Nanna,” she said, pronouncing the name ‘NAH nah’. As she turned away from the stove toward her guest Marley got her first clear look at her hostess. The old lady’s face was heavily, almost comically, made up. False eyelashes fluttered against a backdrop of bright blue eye-shadow and layers of rouge had been applied haphazardly to her prunely wrinkled cheeks.

  Hot red lipstick matched the color of long false nails and a pair of shiny red cat’s eye glasses hung from a chain around her neck along with dozens of sparkly, dangly necklaces. She wore a white lace shawl over a long-sleeved dress of deep, midnight blue satin with shiny little silver stars sewn into the fabric. A large quantity of jangly gold and silver bracelets and rings on her wrists and hands added the finishing touches of bling to the old lady’s bizarre appearance.

  Glancing away from her dazzling hostess and around at her temporary refuge, Marley noticed that the inside of the mobile home seemed much larger than it had from the outside. Behind the front driver’s side and passenger side front seats were two red plush swivel chairs that had been anchored to the floor.

  A fold-out table attached to the wall supported a big crystal ball, a bowl of fruit and a stack of fashion magazines. Little bottles of nail polish in crystal colors sat atop the magazines. A big black cat gazed solemnly up at Marley from a nearby pedestal. At first Marley thought the cat was stuffed but then it stood up and walked away.

  Glass bottles filled with dried herbs, twigs and roots and bundles of tufted grasses had been carefully lined up on bookshelves which also held an assortment of tiny metal cars, balls of twine, wind-up animals, a ceramic armadillo, an empty glass and an ashtray full of teensy drink umbrellas.

  A dried and fully-inflated pufferfish hung from the ceiling of the mobile home like a freaky piñata, forever blowing the world one last kiss. Candles burned in half a dozen places around the room, providing most of the interior light and a hanging mobile of the solar system was strung on invisible fishing line across one small window.

  70s style stick-on glow-in-the-dark stars of varying sizes had been pasted to the walls, ceiling and even in places glued to the floor underfoot. Up close, the glass sphere on the table in front of Marley took on a prismatic quality and reflections which seemed to come from inside the sphere shifted across its polished surface.

  Beyond the main room in which Marley and her host were sitting, a hallway led back toward what looked like another room. Marley was perplexed. From the outside, the little mobile home was basically a thirty-foot long, fifteen-foot wide storage container on four sturdy wheels. Nice but small. Yet from the inside Marley could see a hallway opening from the far end of the mobile home onto a large bedroom and bathroom, just off to the right.

  “Tea?” The old woman had already poured a full cup of the brew and settled it atop the fold-out table on a saucer for Marley.

  “Thank you,” Marley gratefully accepted the steaming cup and held it to her nose. The cup itself was a thing of exquisite beauty, shaped out of thinnest white porcelain into the curving form of an open lotus blossom with a single slender stem for a handle. As she sipped her tea, the smell of flowers flooded Marley’s senses and she felt her mind go momentarily still as though touched by a cool and refreshing breeze.

  The old woman anticipated and answered Marley’s question even before she asked. “It’s a mixture of jasmine and lotus blossom leaves.”

  “It’s very nice.” Marley took another sip. When she’d drained her cup Nanna took it from her, peering intently into the tea leaves. Marley was not completely or totally surprised to see her do this. Because let’s face it, the mobile home contained more than a few clues as to the old lady’s profession.

  It wasn’t much of a stretch for Marley to deduce the old lady was a fortune-teller, someone who performed in sideshows (not that there was anything wrong with that) at the county fairs and local circus. And something about the bright gleam in the old lady’s eyes gave Marley the distinct impression that the old girl might be playing with a few cards short of a deck.

  A second later Nanna confirmed Marley’s misgivings when she solemnly intoned, “You are in grave danger, dearie.”

  “I see.” Marley sighed, closing her eyes briefly against the smiling face of yet more crazy. Mr. Call me Zage last night had said something similar to her, hadn’t he? Maybe both of them were in the same circus act. A crack of thunder split the sky and several hot flashes of light turned the world outside into an expanse of blinding white.

  The old woman continued, “You are part of a pattern that cannot be spoken of, a riddle that has no words.”

  Marley nodded, forcing a smile. “Right.”

  “You face great danger ahead, but if you follow the light you will prevail.” Really, could the old gal have been any more cliché? Marley was beginning to feel slightly annoyed. Why was this happening to her? Were the old lady, Galea and Mr. Priest King just one big insane family who’d targeted her for fun? Were they in some kind of cult?

  A sudden and overwhelming urge to be gone seized Marley. To leave the claustrophobic confines of the little metal house and get away from the glow-in-the-dark stars and that hallway leading to an impossible room. Away from the smell of jasmine and lotus blossom tea.

  And as if in direct response to Marley’s wish the rain outside magically began to ease, slowly at first then faster and faster. The wind faded as well from a blast to a gust to a breeze and then into nothing. Mere moments later, the only sound outside was the occasional fat, juicy plop of raindrops. The world outside brightened and shone. Good old changeable Minnesota weather.

  “Keep this with you.” Unexpectedly the old woman removed something shiny from her beringed left forefinger and dropped it into Marley�
��s cupped hand. “Use it to mend what was broken.” Her gift was a simple band with a dirty silver setting that held what looked like a chip of green glass. It must have cost all of twenty-five cents when fresh from its gumball machine of origin.

  “Oh no, I couldn’t.” Embarrassed and slightly repelled, Marley tried to push the awkward little gift back onto the old woman but she insisted. Finally Marley gave up and accepted, slipping the ring onto the key chain around her neck, for lack of pockets.

  “Thank you very much, that’s really sweet of you.” She’d never before heard of a fortune-teller crossing a guest’s palm with silver, wasn’t it supposed to be the other way around? Alas, Marley hadn’t brought any money along on her morning run. Nothing in the weather forecast had mentioned rain or otherwise indicated a need to pay off fortune-tellers in the woods.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t bring any money for you.” Cautiously Marley opened the door to the mobile home and peeked out. “Looks like the rain has stopped,” she said, trying not to let her relief show. “Thank you so much for the tea... and.. and everything.”

  “Good luck dearie. Don’t forget what I told you.” If she had any more cryptic advice or warnings to offer Marley, the old lady kept them to herself, her eyes disappearing into a million blue eye-shadowed wrinkles as she smiled and waved her guest off.

  Marley left the old woman and her strange mobile home behind as fast as she could. Fifteen more minutes of the old lady’s weird and Marley would have considered making a run for home even through the pouring rain.

  Jogging at a fairly good clip in what seemed an easterly direction, Marley sped back along the muddy dirt pathway toward home. Along the way the ground the air and even the light itself all seemed to change and brighten subtly like the world did when it came out from under a cloud.

  The creepy forest grew thinner, the trees farther apart and finally Marley could see the familiar orange of autumn leaves drifted across the running path. Cresting a rise in the land, Marley could see the edge of Lake of the Isles right where it was supposed to be. Where it must have been all along.