He was about to answer when the door to the bathroom
opened and a man ushered a boy into one of the stalls, and without looking
around, followed him in.
“Now, don’t be nervous. There’s nothing to it. Just
sit on the bowl and do your business. Don’t worry, you won’t fall in.” He
stepped out of the stall and the clinking sounds indicated that the boy was
doing as was told.
“You should get out of here right now, mister.” Oscar
squared his shoulders, pushed Paul away and straightened to his full
six-foot-two height, intending to intimidate the man into leaving before he saw
anything. Oscar was surprised by the man’s response.
“I will, as soon as my boy is done in there. I
apologize for intruding. Obviously, this is a personal matter that doesn’t
concern me. Once the child finishes his number two, I’ll be out of here and
will say nothing about what I have seen. It is none of my business.” The man’s
respectful defiance and easy manner calmed Oscar and he replied with a nod.
He was tan and stood with a wary stance, coiled for
action, so Oscar kept his distance.
Softly, the boy said that he was done and the tan man
entered the stall. “Let’s see.” A short pause followed. “Hmmm, very good. All
the brown stuff’s gone. Now we’ve got to get some more clothes for you. You’re
outgrowing everything we’ve got.” They exited the stall and passed Oscar and
Paul without a word or a glance.
“Help me. Please, get the police,” Paul desperately
called out.
“Police? No, nobody’s gonna help your pathetic ass.
You have one month, Paul. If I don’t get it, this beating will become a weekly
thing. The only thing that’ll keep you safe is handing over the rest of my
money.” The door closed and all that could be heard was Oscar’s cursing and
spitting.
TIME: FEBRUARY 5TH, 1963. WOOLWORTH’S, MARIN, CALIFORNIA,
U.S.A
Kosta pushed the door open with his foot and waved
Adam into the department store. They walked past row upon row of women’s
clothing, undergarments and shoes. They continued past men’s shirts, jackets
and full suits. The open corridors they walked through were buffed to mirror
shininess. Kosta stopped at the boy’s section. He looked down at Adam, who
stared about at all the fluorescently lit colors.
“Let’s take a good look at you then.” He stepped a
few feet away from Adam, and with a wave of his hand, stopped the boy from
following him. “Just stay there for a second, Adam.”
Kosta surmised he was the size of a seven-year-old,
though he was still barely a year old.
“Adam, do you like any color in particular?” Kosta
wanted to let him choose as he saw fit. He wanted him to become familiar with
making his own decisions.
“Color? What do you mean?” Adam wasn’t able to
understand what was asked. Kosta understood he had to draw a connection between
thought, word and reality. He chose four shirts from the racks and held them
out in front of Adam.
“Now, look at this one.” He held out a blue shirt.
“This is blue.” He did the same with each shirt, naming their respective
colors. “This one is yellow, this one is red and this one green.” Adam intently
focused on what he was being told. “Do you see a difference?”
“Each of them looks different.”
“Yes, that’s right. The difference that you see is
color. Now, close your eyes and touch each of them as I give them to you.” Adam
reached out his hands, and with eyes squinted shut, rubbed the fabric between
his fingers. Then, without direction, he smelled each of them.
“There is no difference, other than they look
different.”
“Yes, that is color. Now you’re very lucky, know
why?” Kosta praised Adam.
“No, tell me.” Adam liked when Kosta explained
things. It made him feel important, because it was as though he only saw Adam,
no one else.
“Most people grow up and learn about color, and
everything else in their lives, from others. You will have to make up your own
mind about how you understand things.” The smile on Kosta’s face made Adam feel
that he was, indeed, lucky.
“But you’re explaining it to me, so am I not learning
your version?”
“In a manner of speaking, yes. The difference is that
I’m trying to teach you the obvious so that you can come up with your own
facts.” Holding up the shirts, he continued. “That’s why I said they look
different. I could have pointed out other differences. Do you understand?”
Kosta looked so intent on his explanation that Adam only nodded. He wasn’t
quite sure what he was saying, but eventually, he was sure he would understand.
“So, do you like any of them?” Kosta continued.
“No, not really. They’re too bright. They stand out
and I don’t like that. Don’t they have colors like the ones you’re wearing?”
Adam pointed at Kosta’s dark khaki pants and tan shirt. He looked down at his
own attire and nodded. The boy saw him day in, day out, he would obviously
begin to identify with him.
“Are you sure? Don’t you want something of your own?
This is how I dress. Do you want to look like me?” Kosta asked, looking for the
answer behind Adam’s response.
“Well, do they have dark versions of that color?” he
asked as he pointed to the blue shirt. “I see a lot of that color on kids.”
When he caught sight of a rack of denim pants, jackets and shirts, his eyes lit
up.
“Those. Can I have some of those?” Without waiting
for an answer, he ran over to the rack and felt the fabric. He rubbed it
between his fingers, delighting in its thickness and durable weave.
A slight movement ahead caught his eye. He looked up
and saw an overweight man, in a brown suit and glasses, looking down at him.
The edges of his body were blurred where they touched the air. He was entirely
real himself, but repulsed the air around him. The most basic essence refused
to envelope him, which made his outline unfocussed. He sickened the air itself.
Adam looked at him more intently. Behind the lenses
that covered his eyes, and under the trim brim of his hat, he saw the red
burning of a furnace. He smelled of stale sweat, but more subtle and alarming,
dead and rotten things came to mind. The unwashed, rank smell of mold masked
whatever else might repulse the nose. Adam’s only experience had been with his
own evacuations, but under the rank smell of sweat was the smell of shit. At
first, it wasn’t overpowering, but if he thought about it for too long, he
became overwhelmed by it. The fat businessman did not speak out loud, though
his voice was audible in Adam’s head.
He spoke of Adam’s majesty and Hell’s devotion to
him. He told Adam that he must come and then he could rule the world. All Hell
waited for him; they’d waited for centuries and their time was at hand.
Adam forgot about Kosta. He forgot about everything
but the earnestness of this fat businessman. Despite all of Kosta’s warnings to
never go out on his own, he looked at the Seeker’s hand and took it, allowing
himself to be led away.
Kosta saw all of this and rushed forward to stand in
front of the Seeker, barring his path. He would not start anything in public.
When he noted that nothing natural could stand them and that their stench was
unbearable. It was body odor, clinging to rot and decay. He fought back the
urge to scream and vomit. The revulsion was so intense he was terrified it
wouldn’t stop.
“The boy stays with me.” Without weapons, Kosta was
sure he was no match for a Seeker from Hell. He hoped he could find a way to
keep the fiend from disappearing with Adam.
The Seeker replied in a monotone often heard
narrating school documentaries. “I regret to say that the child’s rightful
place is with us. We thank you for taking good care of him and know that you
shall receive the compensation befitting your involvement in his abduction.”
“I’m glad you have seen fit to name him as my charge.
I am the only parent he has known. Let me stay with him through his adjustment
to his eventual birthright,” Kosta replied.
“He does not need someone who is not of his kind. The
adjustment period will be brief, hardly worth noting.” The Seeker began to walk
forward past Kosta.
“Adam, do you really want to go with this man?” This
could be the only way he could take the boy back. He had to get him away from
the Seeker. If he didn’t, everything would be lost. Kosta also felt an
uncomfortable affection for the boy. He did not want to lose him to anyone.
“I want to see what they’re going to give me. They
promised to love me. I want to see all of that.” The Seeker had stopped to let
Adam speak and was about to continue walking when Kosta continued.
“Do you understand that they will love you, and do
love you, but nothing else? Devotion and worship sound very good, but you don’t
understand. At least, can you wait until you understand, then make up your
mind?”
Adam contemplated this and nodded in agreement. The
Seeker’s eyes burned intensely, but he said nothing. The air grew fouler. A few
people who were close by even began to cough and went to complain at the
service desk.
“What’s that smell?” one woman asked.
“Did the sewers back up?” a man said to no one in
particular.
“Somebody do something about that awful stench!” the
woman at the counter said.
Even Kosta coughed, but fought back vomit and moved
closer to Adam. At this distance, he saw that the air around the Seeker grew
more turbulent. A rumbling, grating sound assaulted his ears; nothing of this
earth adjusted well to the Seeker’s discomfort. Kosta choked on a scream and
suppressed a few grunts of disgust.
“Now, do you still want those jeans?” Kosta asked.
“Jeans?” Adam was surprised by the question.
“The dark blue pants and jacket you were looking at.”
Kosta wasn’t above bribery.
“Oh yes, yes. Can I have them?” Adam forgot about the
Seeker’s promised love and devotion.
“Of course you can.” He steered Adam, followed by the
Seeker back to the clothes racks. They picked out three pairs of pants, a light
denim jacket, and proceeded to the cash register. The Seeker took out his
wallet and tried to pay for the clothes, but Kosta protested and put down the
proper amount before the fiend could interfere. As they walked out of the
store, Kosta asked Adam for a favor.
“Adam, could you tell your new friend he is not to
hurt me in any way?” Kosta saw shock and anger flicker across the Seeker’s
face.
“He wouldn’t hurt you, would he? Would you?” Adam
looked up at him. “Well, would you?”
“He is to die in the worst way we can devise, lord.
He took you away from your birthright.” The Seeker could not lie to Adam; he
was compelled to truthfully answer any, and all questions.
“No, I don’t want you to hurt him!” Adam’s outrage
consumed him, his voice registering an authority that shook the Seeker. Beneath
the child’s voice rumbled an undercurrent of menace. The Darkness within him
was as pure and black as the deepest depths of Hell; no light could live within
it.
“It shall be as you say, sir.” The Seeker was visibly
shaken and his voice wavered. For a few moments, the fat businessman’s assault
on reality subsided to the barest physical distortion and perceptible foul
odors. Kosta continued forward and out of the store, towards the car.
“Now, maybe we can understand the devotion and love
our friend mentioned before,” Kosta said as he put the newly purchased jeans in
the trunk of the cab. “Those who talk about your birthright and their love for
you are honest about their love for you. They do love you and want to worship
you, but it is a selfish love. They want to love only you and for you to love
only what they want.” Once more, the Seeker’s disgust began to mount. Kosta had
to control his senses revolted by the Seeker’s noxious presence. He did not
want to think about that Adam had actually touched the fat businessman.
“They don’t care about what you love, if it is not
also what they want.” Kosta turned and confronted the Seeker, Adam still
clinging to his fat hand.
“Is this true?” Adam asked. The Seeker was now
glancing between the boy and Kosta, not understanding the implications of the
explanation.
“Yes it is. Your place and your destiny are with us.
There is nothing else that matters, aside from you and our destiny.”
“But what about what he wants?” Kosta asked. “He has
developed an affection for me and I for him. You would kill me, without caring
that it would, in turn, harm him.” Kosta continued, “To these people, this
destiny is more important than how you feel. Ask him if this is not so.”
Adam dropped the fat businessman’s hand, took a step
closer to Kosta and looked up at the Seeker’s contorted face. The fiend tried
to keep from grimacing, the debate demanding a great deal of effort. Seekers
weren’t meant for discussions, only threats — before, during and after
disembowelment. The fat businessman looked down at Adam and shrunk beneath the
boy’s gaze.
“You don’t care how I feel?” Adam wanted to believe
in the worship and devotion the Seeker promised. He looked from Kosta to the
Seeker, not knowing whom he should believe.
“Your feelings are important to us, sire. You are our
destiny. You are the most important person to us and we would never hurt you.”
He was as impassioned as any spawn of hell could possibly be.
“The question is not if you would hurt him. The
question is, if for the greater cause, you would do something that would hurt
him.” Kosta continued, “If it would ensure that I could never see him again,
you would kill me right now. The only thing preventing you from killing me is
the fact he ordered you not to harm me. Isn’t that right?”
“I don’t answer to you! Your questions mean nothing!”
The Seeker began to froth at the mouth, shackled by fury.
“I know you don’t. That’s why he’s asking you.” Kosta
opened the door to the car.
“Why would you do that?” Adam was saddened to hear
the devotion wasn’t complete. He was not old enough to understand anything but
absolutes.
The fat Seeker saw his Messiah walk away from him and
his convulsions became more pronounced. Kosta took a step back and stiffened
his lower lip, his senses once again assaulted.
“He took you away from your true and prophesized
destiny. You were to be born to a family from our order and we were to have
raised you. You were to be born of our ranks, not Christians.” The Seeker spat
out the disgusting final words.
“Of the mother who would’ve given him birth. What
would’ve happened to her?” Kosta fuelled the fire that consumed any trust that
Adam may have had for the fat businessman.
“Yes, what of my mother?” Adam echoed.
“We would have disposed of her, to eliminate
distractions. We could not take the chance that anyone else would raise you.”
Once again, he could only answer truthfully.
“Why must everything be done your way? Why not let
the boy choose? Right now, I’m allowing him to choose.”
“He is not even two years old! He cannot choose for
himself.”
“Again, that’s where you’re wrong.” Adam’s firm
pronouncement silenced the Seeker.
Adam walked to Kosta and took his hand, letting him
lift him up into the cab, with a gentle push on his back. Kosta got behind the
wheel and began to reverse past the Seeker. When he was even with him, he
stopped.
“Now, I know that you can keep up with us, so there’s
no need for you to get in the car. Your kind doesn’t have any problems keeping
up.
The Chevy cab lumbered forward, and as Kosta stepped
on the gas pedal, it took off. As he continued down street after street, Adam
reached forward and switched on the radio, trying to take his mind off of his
disappointment with the Seeker. He heard Smokey Robinson lament that
You treat me badly, I love you madly. You’ve
really got a hold on me.
They passed stop signs, green traffic lights, red
traffic lights, and Smokey continued to
Want
to leave you, don’t want to stay here, don’t want to spend another day here.
Each time he glanced at side roads or sidewalks,
Kosta saw the Seeker. He would be coming out of a bar, or stepping into one,
noting him with a backwards glance. At red lights, he walked in front of, or
beside, the cab. He was almost always on foot, exiting or entering a building,
though he also sat in storefronts or at restaurant tables. Adam wondered if he
also heard, or even cared, that the Miracles
Want to split now, I just could quit now, you’ve really got a hold on me,
you’ve really got a hold on me, baby
.
The fat businessman was never out of sight, and for
once, Kosta was glad. He had to face this one and gather information. They were
getting too close. He nearly lost Adam and he wasn’t going to go through that
again. He had to find the source driving this search and cut off the head. The
Four Seasons replaced the Miracles and Frankie Valli’s falsetto filled the car
with his entreaty to
Walk like a man,
talk like a man, walk like a man, my son.
Once outside the city limits, Kosta struck out on a
dry, country road until he reached an obviously abandoned stretch. All this
time, Adam had said nothing. He stayed close to Kosta and held onto him. Kosta
switched off the radio, ending Frankie’s advice. Adam looked up at him and
asked a simple question, which he could not easily answer. “Why don’t they care
about hurting?” Kosta could only respond with a partial answer.
“It’s not important to them. There is no other
explanation, Adam. They just don’t care.” Kosta continued with a question of
his own. “You understand that the Seeker is still with us, don’t you?” Adam
nodded.
“Now, I have to learn a few things from him, and
since he listens to you, you have to ask him the questions.” As he related this
to Adam, he reached between them and popped the catch of his arsenal, choosing
his pocket blunderbuss, a few vials of holy water and a hatchet.
He slowed and stopped the cab beside a grey,
dilapidated barn. Beside the barn, he could see the foundation of another
building long ago fallen to time. From behind the barn walked the fat
businessman, looking like he just returned from lunch.
Kosta shifted into park and stepped out of the cab,
Adam by his side. He placed the hatchet in his belt and kept the handgun by his
side. All fear was gone, his implements replacing it. The physical aversion was
also gone. Now, he could concentrate on the battle. He stopped, twenty feet
from the barn, ten from the Seeker.
“Adam, are you ready?” Kosta asked. The boy
determinedly nodded in affirmation. “Now, repeat after me. What do you want to
do with Adam?” The boy repeated the question, parrot-like.
The Seeker responded in his rumbling voice. “You are
to accept your rightful place with our people on earth. When you mature into a
man, you will rule in the name of the Great Leviathan.”
“Who has called you into this realm?” Adam struggled
with the last part, but came close enough for the Seeker to understand.
“The temporal lord, the Supreme Tribunal Balzeer
McGrath. He made the necessary sacrifices and I stand before you.” The Seeker
felt confident of his mission and thought that by bringing the young prince to
his rightful place, he would earn glory in hell.
“What sacrifices?” Adam asked out of his own
curiosity.
“The blood of three unconsecrated children brought me
before you.”
“Three children died to bring you here?” Adam’s mouth
gaped in disbelief.
“Yes, lord, as well as many others. I am not the only
one looking for you. There are hundreds like me, all hoping to bring you back.”
“Hundreds? You killed hundreds for me?” Adam looked
horrified as he internalized the implications. His young mind reeled. Now he
understood what Kosta tried to explain about not caring for anything other than
their love, and selfish nature of that love. Adam could never be anything than
what they wanted him to be. Never.
“Why? Why did you kill and hurt so many people?” Adam
began to shake and fell to his knees, crying. He could think of little besides
the dead children.
“How did they die?” Kosta’s question came as a
surprise, but Adam repeated it as instructed.
“They were flayed and drawn and quartered. Their arms
and legs were torn from their bodies.” The Seeker recounted this with pride.
“One must be very specific in the conjuring of a Seeker. Not only is the blood
required, but also the proper amount of anguish, pain and fear.”
“You do it for the hurt? You want the pain?” Adam did
not believe it was possible to feel sicker.
“Adam,” Kosta spoke softly, not wanting to startle
him. “This is the nature of those you were born to. They prey, thrive and live
on misery. That is their pleasure and life. It is everything: food, love, water
and the very breath they take. I was wrong when I said that they didn’t care
about suffering. They want it. It is what they want, above all else.”
“Why? How?” Adam searched for a question that could
explain all this horror. “How do you do it? How do you cause such pain and
awful horror?”
“When you become who you are fated to be, sire, you
will know the sharpness of fear, the joy of pain and the aroma of agony. One
day, you will feel all of these pleasures and understand why. You are still
human, however, you will evolve into your true self. Even now, the Darkness
inside you knows and squirms as we speak of this.”