LLOYD, PAUL R. (26 page)

Micah raised his arm to beckon
Janice. “Wait. I would like to hear what you have to say. I was trying to deal
with my anger, and I’m not good at it. I’ve been angry at you for a long time. So,
if you have something to say, say it.”

Janice turned back and smiled at
Barbara and then turned to Micah. “Thanks, Micah. This is embarrassing for me.”
Janice looked down at the ground. “When I was fourteen, my stepfather raped me.
He warned me he would kill my mother if I told anyone.”

Micah’s stern expression did not
change. “So why did you blame me?”

“Yeah, all you had to do was keep
your stupid mouth shut.” Barbara voice was shrill.

Janice continued speaking to the
pavement. “Later when I missed my period, I figured I must be pregnant. I had
to say something. I was scared. I spoke to my mother. She became furious and
asked who the father was. You were right downstairs making out with Peevy in
the family room, so your name just flew out of my mouth. I’m sorry. Then Mom
became frantic because she thought you were cheating on Peevy with me. I didn’t
know what to say so I said it was your fault. I didn’t want to get into more
trouble. Once I said you attacked me, I had to stick to the story or my
stepfather would kill Mom.”

“That’s it?” Micah gestured with
his hands out to indicate his frustration.

Tears welled up in Janice’s eyes.
“I know it sounds stupid. I can’t believe I said those horrible things about
you or that anyone believed me. I thought the whole issue would blow over. Then
the police arrested you and put you on trial. I totally freaked so I couldn’t admit
I’d lied or they’d put me in jail or so I thought. Meanwhile, I figured out I
wasn’t pregnant, but Mom said it didn’t make any difference if I was pregnant
or not, because you were headed to prison for statutory rape. I felt horrible,
but I was a scared, stupid kid so I kept my mouth shut.”

Micah poked a finger at Janice. “You
testified against me!”

“I was afraid to change my story.”

“Your lie cost me fifteen years and
my reputation. I’m an ex-con. You gave my father cancer from the stress. He
died in my arms when he should have had many more years left. I have to
register as a sex offender wherever I go. Every time some kid is raped or
murdered, the police talk to me. Sorry isn’t enough, Janice.”

Janice searched Micah’s eyes. “I
know I can never make it up to you, Micah, but I am sorry. I’ll retract my
testimony or do whatever else it takes to reverse your conviction.” Janice trudged
off with her head bowed.

Barbara gawped into Micah’s stone
cold eyes. “Imagine, she thought you would actually forgive her.”

“She can forget about that.”

Lionel Langdon sat at a table in
the police interrogation room with Dexter Mortisse, attorney at law, by his
side. Lionel smirked while Mortisse twirled a pen above a yellow legal pad.

Mortisse dropped his pen on the pad
and raised his head to go eyeball-to-eyeball with Detective Lawson. “You’re not
pinning another rap on my client.”

Detective Lawson stood across the
table with one foot on a plain wooden chair and the other on the floor. Behind
him, Officer Beverly Lapatte leaned against the wall near the door.

 “No need to pin anything at this
point. Already have a conviction in this case.” Lawson stared across the wooden
table at Lionel Langdon. Mortisse scraped his hand across his unshaven chin

“So why bring it up?”

“Victim had a change of heart. Says
the guy we sent to prison for fifteen years was innocent.”

“Bit late, don’t you think?”
Mortisse picked up his pen and doodled on his yellow legal pad.

“Yeah, but the victim was persistent.
And Lionel is sitting here in the county jail anyway. And we’ve got an
iron-clad on him for rape and murder, multiple counts mind you. Thought your
guy would want to come clean.”

“What’s in it for us?” Mortisse
placed the pen on the paper.

“You mean besides truth, justice
and the American way?” Lawson shrugged.

“Hey, my client isn’t going to do anything
to make your life easier.”

“Okay, the state’s attorney is
willing to put a deal on the table. Your client comes clean with the old case,
we don’t charge him, number one. Number two, we don’t ask for the death penalty
in the new case.”

“That’s the best you can do?”

“We’re not planning to go to trial
on the old case. We already have enough to assure your guy gets the needle for multiple
murders of teenage girls. The deal takes him off the hook. He does life without
parole. And he gets a clean conscience. And an innocent man has his record
cleared.”

“No dice, detective.”

Lionel Langdon turned to his
attorney with all the disgust he could muster. “What?”

“We don’t have to deal with these
people. They don’t have a case on you.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Don’t say nothing. I do the
talking, remember?”

Lionel turned to Detective Lawson. “I’m
okay with the old case. I did Janice. She wanted it. I gave it to her. She was
fine with it. We did it a bunch of times. She thought she was pregnant and told
her mom. Then she ratted on her sister’s boyfriend. Guess he was doing her too.
Ever think of that? The kid was guilty as sin from the beginning. So I was
hitting on her too. She wasn’t my kid. Not a blood relation. She was a slut. I
had a house with my very own built-in, teenage slut. Who could ask for more?
The boy received what he deserved. There were a gang of boys who could’ve gone
to jail for doing her. Like I said, a slut.”

Mortisse squirmed in his seat.
“Keep quiet, Lionel.”

“It doesn’t matter. You don’t
matter. Nothing matters. I have connections. Ahlman Brown will spring me.
You’ll see.”

Mortisse’s face turned quizzical.
“Ahlman Brown is an angel. What would he want with you?”

Detective Lawson glared at
Mortisse. “What did you say?”

“I was talking to my client.”

“No. I mean what did you call
Ahlman Brown?”

“Didn’t call him anything.”

“You said he was an angel, didn’t
you?”

“He is an
angel.”

***

Total blackness never happens in
the county jail. Always a bare light bulb glares in the prisoner’s eyes should
he choose to open them as did Lionel Langdon, Ph.D., former principal of a
Naperville high school (“Your principal is your pal, young lady!”)

Lionel rolled over on the narrow
cot and caught himself by bracing his hand onto the floor to keep from rolling
off. A flash of shadows caught his eyes, and he peered up to see the cause. A
light in the ceiling momentarily blinded him.

As he waited for his vision to
clear, he heard a beating noise. He assumed the din to be a fan oscillating in
the distance, but he wavered in his belief because it sounded close and more
insect-like than mechanical. Instead of the usual overflowing toilet odor of
the prison, he smelled an old-fashioned coal furnace. It smelled like the one
in his grandmother’s farmhouse on the south side of Naperville, the one torn
down a few decades ago to make way for a new subdivision. He placed a hand over
his eyes for protection against the ceiling light and opened his eyes.

“Good evening, Lionel.”

“Ahlman, you’ve come for me.”

“Precisely, old boy.”

“Do you have the keys to the cell?”

“I love this trick. It’s in the
Bible, you know. Arise loyal servant and follow me.”

Lionel was amazed. As he approached
the cell door, it opened automatically. He followed Ahlman through several
solid steel doors that opened automatically at their approach. They passed several
guard stations. No one seemed to notice them.

Out in the parking lot, Ahlman
turned to Lionel and smiled. “There now, feel better?”

“That was a miracle.”

“I do it all the time.”

“Where’s my car. We have a plane to
catch.”

“Where you’re headed, you won’t
need an airplane or automobile.”

“What are talking about? You’re not
planning to take a boat down to South America, are you?”

“You’re going down, but not to
South America, I’m afraid.”

As Lionel Langdon took in what
Ahlman was saying, he realized he may have been better off remaining in his
cell. “No. I’m leaving for South America.”

Lionel ran for a small sports coupe
parked in the nearly empty lot. He grabbed for the door handle, but his hand
passed through it. “Put my body back the way it was.”

Ahlman rubbed his chin. “Body? What
body?”

“No!”

“Yes. You’ve been set free, Lionel
Langdon. You no longer have to worry about your body.”

“No, this can’t be.” Lionel began
to run back towards the county jail. As he approached the door, he ran into a
solid wall of nothing and bounced backwards. “I’m solid again.”

“No, I’m afraid you’ll never be
solid again, Lionel Langdon. You ran into me, your master. Now, let’s be off to
my home in the great kingdom below.” Ahlman stretched out his arm long enough
to grab Lionel by the throat. With his faerie wings flapping, Ahlman lifted
Lionel high above his head and slammed him into the earth.

Back in the DuPage County lockup, a
deputy sheriff doing bed check noticed that the prisoner Lionel Langdon lay
peacefully in his cot without moving. “About time you settled down,” said the
guard aloud.

Other than a few sleeping prisoners
in nearby cells, no living person was close enough to hear the deputy.

In the half awake time before
rising when images, dreams and half dreams ascend from the darkness of the soul
and are remembered for the rest of the day, Micah Probert observed a faerie
flitting about. The tiny pixie scampered from flower to flower like a bee
shopping for nectar. The creature buzzed its gossamer wings like a dragonfly
until, as sometimes happens in our half dreams, the thing twisted around to face
the lens of the camera of Micah’s mind. It flew in for a close-up and flashed
an evil grin.

Micah opened his eyes and found
himself in the darkness of a hotel room in Chicago. The flapping of Ahlman’s
wings droned in his ears. He turned on a light but no one was in the room.
“Barbara!”

Micah ran to Barbara’s room in
their suite and pushed the door open. In the moonlight, he watched her as she
slept.

A movement out the window caught
his eye.

Ahlman Brown hovered beyond the
glass twenty stories above the Chicago street below. “Won’t you come out and
play?” Ahlman did not move his lips.

Micah pointed to Ahlman. “Go away.”

“Not this time, Micah. I’ve come
for you.” Ahlman no longer needed to move his lips for Micah to hear him.

“I don’t think so.” Micah’s hands
flew to his hips.

“If you won’t come out, I’ll come
in.”

Micah pointed at Ahlman. “You’re
not invited.”

The window glass scattered into
tiny pieces. Ahlman flew into the room. “I don’t need an invitation. You will
die slowly, Micah, for the fun of it. But I’ll let you live long enough to
watch me kill your friend.”

 Barbara sat
up at the crash of glass. Her eyes widened as she stared at Ahlman Brown. “You’re
here!” she said.

***

The weight of armor pressed on Micah’s
body. “Where am I?” He saw the meadow and forest beyond.

“You’re here with us.” Ginny handed
him his steel helmet.

“But I’m not sleeping, and Ahlman
is about to kill me in the real world.”

“This is the real world, Micah.
Haven’t you learned yet? This is your spiritual reality. When your other place
passes away, you will enter the spiritual realm. Ahlman is here for you.”

“Where?”

“Pray, Micah. It’s your only hope.”

Micah pulled his helmet into
position as Glory offered him his sword. He could barely lift it.

Bob appeared. “Pray, Micah. Now!”

“God help me!” Micah cried.

“It’s not about you.” Bob’s voice
was loud and strained.

“Barbara! God, please. Let me
protect her.” Micah’s sword became light.

Glory handed him his shield. “Be
brave, Micah. Pray.”

“Help me, Lord. Please, may I be
the one to keep her safe?”

Ahlman rode into the meadow on a
black stallion that belched fire. As he charged at Micah, he lowered a long
wooden lance. Micah raised his shield and prepared to take a swing at Ahlman
with his sword.

As the horse and rider drew closer,
a voice said, “Strike the horse.”

Micah waited until the horse was
upon him. He stepped to the side of the animal away from Ahlman’s lance but barely
in time. It was too late for Ahlman to switch positions. Micah thrust his sword
deep into the horse’s side as it passed by.

Micah withdrew his sword. Blood gushed
from the horse’s wound. The animal reared its head and screamed. It belched fire
as it galloped away. Horse and rider melted into a wispy fog. The mist stopped.
It hesitated a moment before reversing direction.

Out of this grey, rolling murkiness
arose Ahlman Brown upon a dragon. The beast exhaled fire as the horse had done.
Micah saw blood streaming from the side of the dragon and realized the demon horse
had shifted its shape.

“What do I do
now?” Micah screamed.

***

“Hit him!” Barbara cried.

Micah fell back on Barbara’s bed as
Ahlman pummeled him with his fists. Micah hit Ahlman in the face with an
iron-clad fist. The force of the impact knocked Micah back into Barbara,
launching her into the air. Barbara grabbed onto Ahlman’s back as though riding
a horse, but Micah hit Ahlman another blow making him rear back violently.

The force of
Micah’s next blow sent Ahlman and Barbara flying. Ahlman landed in the corner
of the room while Barbara sailed through the open window. She grabbed hold of
the sill as she passed by and hung on. From twenty stories above the street,
she screamed, “Ahlman!”