Nancy K. Duplechain - Dark Trilogy 01 - Dark Bayou (9 page)

The taller one thought it over for a second, wrestling with common sense versus pride, no doubt. Common sense won out, and he threw his cue down on the table and stormed off. The shorter one smiled. Lucas walked up to the short one and pulled him aside. He whispered something to him. I couldn’t hear what he was saying, but, knowing Lucas, he was giving him a lecture about sportsman-like conduct.

I took the opportunity to use the ladies’ room. A small bar meant a small bathroom. It was made for one at a time. I entered, locking the door behind me. As I washed my hands, I suddenly saw a shadow move across the frosted glass of the window behind me. I turned quickly to see what it was, but there was nothing.

The fluorescent light overhead flickered a couple of times, and it instantly reminded me of my time in med school, viewing the cadavers in the morgue. Too many times those flickering fluorescents tricked my mind into thinking those bodies were moving. I fought off a shudder and closed my eyes, taking a deep breath, slowly exhaling. I opened my eyes again and felt silly for letting my imagination get to me again.

When I stepped back into the bar, I didn’t see Lucas anymore. His beer bottle sat abandoned on our table. It took me a second, but I guessed he had to use the restroom, too. I went back to our booth and waited. It seemed like I was waiting for a long time. Despite my foolish feeling a moment ago, I grew increasingly nervous while I finished the last of my beer. I stopped, mid-sip, when the door swung open. In stepped a man with a black hat. He had wispy white hair and wore blue jeans. I froze as he sat down at the bar across the room. I watched and waited, wishing Lucas would hurry back.

He was the man from Bancker, but he had no dove perched on his shoulder this time. In my dreams, I associated him with the Dark Man, but I had no way of knowing if that was who it really was. After all, our dreams are mostly the product of what our waking minds already know. I remembered my nightmare when I was back in L.A. I shuddered, recalling the sound of the casket as the Dark Man’s hand pushed it open from the inside. But it was the same sound Miss Ya’s staircase had made. The Dark Man was grinning in my nightmare, because I had imagined David grinning when I was at the funeral. It was understandable that my unconscious mind cast the creepy man from the Bancker cemetery as the Dark Man in my dream.

I waited, watching him. He ordered a beer and sat, slowly sipping it. I had to remind myself to breathe. I wanted to be as quiet as possible, doing anything to not attract his attention.
God, where is Lucas?
The man from Bancker picked up his head, cocking it to the right, like he heard something. He slowly turned my way. He saw me, and I felt my heart stop beating. I was a statue as his eyes locked on mine.

It took him a second, his eyes squinting. Then he grinned and my stomach knotted. He raised his beer to me and took a sip. I put my beer down and looked over towards the men’s room door. It didn’t budge. I couldn’t wait anymore. I hurried across the bar, headed for the front door. On the way to the door, I concentrated on my steps, looking down at the floor. I refused to allow myself to look up at him, but I could still see him in the corner of my eye. He turned around in his seat.

“Hey, Miss L.A., leaving so soon?” he said in a raspy voice, a smile hidden behind it.

“I have to go,” I managed, not knowing why I was even talking to him. I guess it was because I had no real proof that this old man was dangerous, and I kept telling myself that being creepy wasn’t a crime.

“Well, I’ll be seeing you around,” he said, and returned to his beer.

I swung the door open with too much force, but I didn’t care. I practically ran out of the bar and into the gravel parking lot, my key shaking in my hand. I had to try a couple of times to steady my hand enough to open the door of my car. I heard footsteps behind me, crunching the gravel. A hand suddenly grabbed my shoulder, and I gave a little scream. I felt myself being spun around, and I had my fist ready. Just as I was about to bring my balled up hand crashing down on the person in front of me, I stopped short with stupid relief, seeing Lucas’ worried face inches from mine.

“Leigh! What’s wrong?”

“Where have you been?” I said, furious and near tears.

“I wanted to call Miss Celia to check up on Jonathan. I couldn’t hear very well in the bar, so I stepped out to get a better reception. Are you okay?” He looked at my fist, which was still raised. I dropped it and shut my eyes. That was a bad idea because when I did, all I saw was the man from Bancker, grinning at me with his beer raised. I opened them again, tears pricking the corners. I pursed my lips together and breathed hard through my nose. “Hey, it’s okay,” he said, as he cautiously put his arms around me to hug me.

“I’m fine,” I said, shrugging away from his embrace. He looked a little hurt, but tried not to show it.

“C’mon. I’ll take you home. W e can come back for your car in the morning. Or I can send one of the guys from the department to drive it back to Miss Clothilde’s house.”

I shook my head, no. I opened the door to the car. At that second, a white dove swooped down, almost hitting me. I let out a small scream as it grazed the hood of my black Mustang and flew off into the night. Lucas held me and this time I let him.

“I swear I feel like I’m in a Hitchcock movie,” I moaned.

“It’s just a bird. It’s gone now,” he soothed, but it didn’t make me feel better. I knew that bird would be back. And I knew that, sooner or later, the man from Bancker would be back, if not in person, then masquerading as the Dark Man in my dreams. “Please. Let me take you home.”

I nodded, giving in. I locked my door and walked over with him to his truck. He opened the passenger door for me and closed it after I got in. He drove me to Clothilde’s house and parked near the porch. He came around to open the door for me, and I waited for him. I supposed I was getting used to Southern chivalry again.

Lucas walked me to the porch with his arm around my shoulder. I hadn’t spoken the whole ride home. He hadn’t, either. I could tell he wanted to, but he was really good at giving me my space. I walked up the steps of the porch, and he stayed on the grassy path. I turned to him, silent, but my eyes showed gratitude.

“Are you going to be all right tonight?” he said, truly worried.

“Yes,” I said, lying. I was sure there would be nightmares later. “Thanks, Luke,” I whispered. He smiled and my heart beamed for a second. I couldn’t help but smile back.

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow, and we can go back to get your car. Unless you want a couple of the guys to bring it back tonight.”

“Don’t put them out. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Okay. Night.”

“Night.”

As his taillights faded out of sight behind the trees lining the driveway, my eyes turned to the pond where the moonlight reflected off the surface. The fear started to creep in again. I hurried into the house, locking the door securely behind me. I was surprised to see Clothilde and Lyla still up. They were watching TV, Clothilde in her recliner and Lyla sprawled out on the area rug, doing activities in a coloring book.

“Did you have a good time,” said Clothilde.

I took a seat in my grandfather’s old recliner a couple of feet to the right of hers. “Yeah. I saw a few people I haven’t seen in a long time. We had a lot of fun.” I wondered if Clothilde could detect the anxiety in my voice as much as I could. I forced a smile, and think I overdid it when I started in about the party. “The crawfish was so good! I hadn’t had any in so long. It was awesome!”

Clothilde just nodded, rocking back and forth. “And how’s Lucas?”

“He’s good,” I shrugged.

“He’s a good man, that boy.”

“Yeah. He’s a pretty good guy.” I knew what she was getting at and wanted to quickly change the subject. “How’s Miss Ya?”

“Better. She still needs a couple of days to recover.”

“Oh, yeah? That chicken poo tea speed up her healing time?”

Lyla giggled and that made me smile. Clothilde glared at me, but held her tongue when I looked at her apologetically. We were quiet for a moment, watching a rerun of an old “Andy Griffith” episode. It went to commercial and Lyla, still staring at the TV, said, “I think you should date Uncle Lucas.” Clothilde chuckled. I was stunned. Not by what Lyla said, but that she was actually talking to me.

“Dating is the last thing on my mind right now,” I said.

“Did you kiss him yet?” said Lyla.

“Lyla! No! I didn’t.”

“But you will.”

Clothilde laughed and kept rocking.

“Listen, my …” I stopped myself before I said “sex” and replaced it with something more suitable for Clothilde’s ears. “My love life is not open for debate.”

They both laughed. And, hearing Lyla laugh, I had to smile. We weren’t buddies yet, but at least we were acting like family again. That felt good. Good enough to keep me from worrying about nightmares when I finally went to bed.

But they came anyway.

6

Connections

I
dreamed about the Dark Man again. It was more frightening this time. The Dark Man—looking like the man from Bancker—wasn’t creeping around the corner or popping out of the water, but he was full-on pursuing me. I was running down a dirt road somewhere, surrounded by a sugar cane field on either side. It didn’t matter how fast I ran. Every time I turned around, he was behind me, within an arm’s reach. And he was grinning as he chased me. I felt my lungs ready to cave in. I couldn’t go anymore. I heard an engine behind me and the sound of tires rolling down the bumpy road. Suddenly, Lucas’ truck was along side of me. He had his window down, and he shouted at me to get in. He slowed down enough for me to grab onto the side, and I pulled myself into the bed, just as the Dark Man reached for me.

Lucas sped up and the Dark Man missed. In no time, he transformed himself into a huge black crow and continued the chase. Lucas had the truck going as fast as it could. We drove until the road ended near a body of water. The crow wasn’t far behind. Lucas quickly got out of the truck, pulled his gun from his holster, took aim and fired at the crow just as it was about to dive down towards me. He hit it, and it exploded into a shadow, dissipating into the humid atmosphere.

He helped me out of the truck, and we ran to the water. It was a lake, looking much like a bayou in some parts. A countless number of Cypress Trees covered in Spanish moss lined the banks. The calm water reflected the gray sky, and I realized it was sometime in the late afternoon. I couldn’t see any animals, but I heard distant cries of egrets. Near us, half in the water and half on the bank, was a small motor boat.

We got in and Lucas steered us to the middle of the lake. From this point, I could see the other side and, on the edge of the bank, was a small house that looked like an old cabin. There was a lantern in the window and someone rocking in a chair on the tiny wooden porch. I strained my eyes to make out the features of the person in the chair, but the light was poor at this time of day. I was startled to hear my mother’s voice in the boat with me.

“Don’t let Lyla come here,” she said. I whipped around to see that Lucas was gone and my mother was in his place. This is when I realized I was dreaming.

I woke up, shaking. I gave myself a few minutes to calm down before I got dressed and went downstairs. Clothilde and Lyla were almost finished with breakfast.

“You need to start waking up earlier,” said Clothilde. She was obviously displeased with me this morning, but it seemed like my sleep pattern was just a mask for her. It looked like she was upset with something else.

I shrugged. “I’m still on L.A. time.”

“Well, you need to get your body back to Central time.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I said, with a little too much sarcasm. She noticed.

“Don’t sass me.” She got up and started to fix my breakfast. I joined her at the stove just as she was about to crack open an egg to fry.

“You don’t have to do that,” I said, wishing she wouldn’t go out of her way for me.

She cracked the egg anyway, and let it plop down in the oil that was already heated. “You need to eat. You’re too skinny.”

“Are you kidding? I think I put on five pounds since I’ve been here.”

“That’s not enough. You need at least fifteen more.” She put a couple of slices of bread in the toaster. I sighed and took a seat at the table, next to Lyla, who still avoided looking at me. She looked lost in thought.

“Do you miss California?” said Lyla, after a minute.

I looked at her, extremely happy that she was still talking to me. I wasn’t sure if last night was just a fluke. “Some things,” I answered.