Popcorn Thief (13 page)

“Might have been,” Franklin said. “You know it was a
creature that hurt me, right?” His heart was pounding in his chest. He blamed
it on the hill they was climbing, ignoring how his hands might be shaking a
little, too.

Julie nodded. “I’d heard. Attacked your cousin, and killed a
couple people now, right?”

“Yeah. I gotta stop it. Somehow,” Franklin blurted out.

“Why you?” Julie asked.

It wasn’t part of his duty, like helping ghosts pass. But it
was, still, at the same time. Franklin took a deep breath and gulped some air before
he finally replied, “Because I can see it.”

“And most folks can’t?” Julie asked.

Franklin shook his head. “Not unless I help ’em.”

“I think it’s very brave of you,” Julie said.

“And a little crazy?” Franklin asked, trying to tease, to
get them out of the serious mood they were in.

“Maybe a little crazy,” Julie admitted. She looked over him
and smiled. “But I happen to like a little crazy.”

Before Franklin could reply they were at the walkway to the
tall brick judicial center. The air seemed to chill as they approached.
Franklin knew it was just the AC leaking from the building, but it still made
him shiver slightly once.

“You ever been arrested?” Julie asked.

Franklin sighed as he held open the glass doors for her.
“Once. Yesterday. By Karl Metzger, for trespassing in his fields.”

“Really?” Julie said. “Just yesterday?”

“I’m not a criminal,” Franklin said crossly.

“Hey, it’s okay. I was just curious,” Julie said. “I’ve
never been arrested either, but I’m a cute white girl and can talk my way out
of most things.”

A long white counter bore a gold plaque that said
Reception
. An older, larger white woman
in a blue uniform stood behind it. She barely glanced up from her report when
they approached. Behind her stood a wide open office, full of desks that were empty.

“Julie Horton,” Julie announced. “I’m here to see the
sheriff.”

“We have an appointment,” Franklin added.

The woman opened up a visitor’s log, swung it around and
slid it across the counter to them. “Sign in, please.”

When Franklin pushed the book back to the officer, she
looked up again. “Wait here.”

Julie looked around. “It looks like a regular office,” she
said quietly.

“What were you expecting? Something with a jail cell in the
front?” Franklin teased.

“Maybe,” Julie said. “I don’t know. More gritty? Or maybe
even more clean? Something.”

“Not just an ordinary place, where ordinary people go to
work?”

Julie grimaced. “I know, I know. People say that about the
ER all the time, too. They think it should look like the ones they’ve seen on
TV. Not a place where just us regular folk work.”

“I would think a hospital would be exciting, at least,”
Franklin said. “You’re saving people’s lives. All I have to worry about is
spilled fruit or cleaning up the aisles.”

“It can be exciting,” Julie admitted. “But those times are
rare. It’s more than just a job, but—”

“You still wouldn’t do it if you won the lottery,” Franklin
filled in.

“Exactly!” Julie turned to smile at Franklin just as Sheriff
Thompson came in the room.

He cleared his throat. “This way,” he said, opening the door
at the end of the counter for them.

“Thank you,” Julie said.

Franklin just nodded at the sheriff as he led them back to
his office.

“Put these on,” the sheriff instructed, holding out a box of
black gloves.

Julie slid on her gloves with a professional snap. Franklin
fumbled his on, the forefingers twisted, cutting off the circulation. He could
already feel his palms sweating.

Franklin sat gingerly on the edge of the visitor’s chair, but
he gave Julie a reassuring smile.

The sheriff took a small, black notebook out of a large
plastic bag—an evidence bag, Franklin realized with a start. That was
kind of cool.

“Don’t tear or attempt to destroy this, or I’ll have your
heads,” Sheriff Thompson warned Julie as he handed her the notebook. “Both of you.”

Franklin didn’t think it had been possible for Julie to sit
more at attention, but she did. “It’s okay,” he said, reaching over to lay his
hand briefly on her arm. “Just look at what’s written in there.”

Julie flipped open the notebook. Franklin looked over her
shoulder. The first page seemed very much like a prayer Eddie would recite,
asking the goddess Bridget for patience and kindness, to open his mind and
refresh his spirit.

But the next one wasn’t about a goddess. It was addressed to
a demon, asking for his whirling strength to defeat his enemies and cast them
before him.

Franklin glanced up at Julie at the same time she looked at
him. She pressed her lips together and shook her head, then returned back to
the book, flipping through the pages.

The pattern repeated, prayers to the softer gods and
goddesses, followed by incantations to bring forth devils and demons.

Toward the end, Julie stopped and put her fingers toward her
mouth. “Oh my,” she said. “This one. This spell. This isn’t right.”

“What do you mean?” Sheriff Thompson asked. “It isn’t
written right?”

“No, not really. It’s—it’s twisted. All the others
were separate. This is the first one that’s combined, both the goddess and the
devil.” Julie shivered. “This—this is blasphemy.”

Franklin was surprised to hear Julie use that term. Wasn’t
that only for God?

“He wasn’t a good man,” Julie said, shaking her head. “He
was trying to invoke the basest spirits to do his bidding. And he…he offered a
life, here. A sacrifice. To bring forth his demon.”

“Do you think he succeeded?” Franklin asked. “Is that where
our creature came from?” Was he really the one to kill Lexine? Did her death
bring that creature into being?

Julie shrugged. “I don’t know. I never really thought any of
this was possible. What he wanted, what he was trying to bring forth. I mean,
prayer can change the world, but I’d never thought it’d do this.”

Franklin nodded. “Maybe it wasn’t the spell, by itself, that
created the spirit. Maybe it was the combination of Lexine’s ability to see
spirits, along with her death.”

 
“Could Lexine call
spirits to her?” Sheriff Thompson asked.

“I don’t think so,” Franklin said, addressing the sheriff in
surprise. He couldn’t call ghosts to him. “She always said they just found
her.”

“So maybe Earl Jackson did the calling,” Julie said. “And
the creature found them, because of Lexine.”

“Lexine would never have allowed Earl to call something like
that on her property,” Franklin said. But maybe the businessman hadn’t done it
in her living room, but while he was in his truck, parked out at the end of her
driveway.

“Earl’s body showed some signs of a struggle,” the sheriff
commented. “He’d been scratched on his face, under those gouges. And Lexine had
his skin under her fingernails.”

“So they fought, first, and then the thing attacked?”
Franklin guessed. Had Earl Jackson sacrificed Lexine to fully bring forth the
creature?

“I don’t think we’ll ever know,” Sheriff Thompson said. “Not
unless you have some kind of time machine or magic seeing ability.”

Franklin shook his head. “No such luck, I’m afraid. And how
the creature came into being don’t really matter now. The question is, how do we
get rid of it?”

“I don’t know,” Julie said. “I’ve never known anyone who
performed this kind of magic, before.” She looked frightened.

“It’s okay,” Franklin reassured her, patting her arm again.
“Would any of the others in your group know?”

“We can ask Eddie,” Julie said.

“Let’s get going, then,” the sheriff said. He stood up.

“Now?” Franklin asked. He hadn’t had dinner yet, and he was
so tired from his first day being back at work.

“Now.” The sheriff paused. “I just want you to know that I don’t
necessarily believe in what y’all are saying, that this is some kind of magical
creature, called by this businessman after he’d killed your cousin. However.”
The sheriff stroked his moustache with his thumb and forefinger. “However. Something
killed Adrianna. And that tramp out in the woods. The same thing damn nearly
killed you, and it beat up your other cousin pretty bad. It isn’t killing
anyone else. We don’t normally have more than two, three killings a year. I
need to get ahead of this thing.”

“Then let’s go see Eddie,” Julie said, also standing,
stripping off her gloves. “We’ll pick some food up on the way,” she promised
Franklin.

Franklin sighed. But he knew the sheriff was right. This
thing had to be stopped.

But Eddie had refused her power. He suspected she’d refuse
to help with this as well.

EDDIE PALED AS SHE READ THROUGH THE
INCANTATION. She stood in front of the mantel of her fireplace in her living
room, while the sheriff, Julie, and Franklin all sat on the white and green
patterned chairs and matching sofa. She looked like something out of a movie,
with her wild white curls standing on end, wearing all blue and green
underwater colors, from her shirt to her skirt to the big scarf she had wrapped
across her shoulders.

“You’re saying this man may have
called
this thing? Truly brought it into being?” Eddie asked.

“Maybe,” the sheriff said. He looked uncomfortable. “I still
don’t rightly believe what y’all have been saying,” he said, shooting a dark
look at Franklin. “But I don’t think it’s just a wild animal killing people.
It’s got too much purpose. It’s got to be directed, or self-directing.”

“Why y’all here?” Eddie asked. “What do you expect me to do
about it?”

“Do you know how to kill it, ma’am?” Julie asked.

“No, I don’t,” Eddie said immediately.

Franklin knew she was lying. “There’s got to be something we
can do, in that place of yours, out back.”

Eddie turned to glare at Franklin. “Even if there was,
absolutely not. You may not use my sacred space for this type of work.”

“But ma’am, we need to stop this creature,” Franklin replied.

“Mine is a place of peace,” Eddie said sharply. “What this
man brought forth is the opposite. It only hates. It consumes. It has no
companions, only enemies and competitors. It’s the perfect
familiar
for a success-obsessed businessman,” she added with
disgust.

“Then how do we get rid of it?” Julie asked.

“I wish I knew,” Eddie said, softening. “I truly don’t know
what y’all are gonna do. But it feeds on hate. You need to approach it with
love.”

Franklin exchanged a glance with Julie. He’d told her that
was what Adrianna had said, before she’d died. “But what type of love is strong
enough?” Franklin asked. “I mean, love just isn’t as strong as a gun or a
knife, right?” Adrianna and her lines of power ripped from the very earth
hadn’t been enough. The creature had still survived.

“It isn’t the weapon that’s been formed out of love,” Eddie
said. “It’s the love. It’s gotta be great enough.” She sighed. “And I don’t
love enough.” She looked at Franklin. “I don’t believe enough.”

Franklin nodded. He glanced over at Sheriff Thompson, who
had his lips twisted and pressed together hard. Franklin could practically hear
the words the sheriff was saying in his head,
Well, this was a waste of time.

“Julie, dear, can you come with me, for a moment?” Eddie
asked.

Julie nodded and rose.

“Kill it with love. Bah,” Sheriff Thompson said as soon as
the two women were out of earshot. “I can’t believe she said that.”

“It’s what Adrianna said. And Billy, too,” Franklin said.

The sheriff paused, stroking his great brown mustache, his
beady eyes staring a hole in the carpet. “You think this thing lives in Karl
Metzger’s fields.”

“Yes, sir,” Franklin replied, not sure where the sheriff was
going.

“And you’re positive it’s what hurt you, killed Adrianna,”
the sheriff continued.

“I’d swear on my Mama’s grave,” Franklin replied.

“What did your cousin use the last time, to damage it?”

“Rock salt, mixed with antibiotics.” Was the sheriff finally
starting to believe?

Sheriff Thompson stood up. “That’s it, then. I’m tired of
waiting for it to attack again. I’m just going to get a bunch of deputies
together and go find it,” the sheriff declared. “Serve a warrant to Karl
Metzger, march across his field, and shoot every five paces. We’re bound to shoot
it.”

“You’re likely to get yourselves or someone else killed,”
Franklin said, appalled.

The sheriff glared at him. “It’s my duty to protect the
citizens of this county.”

Franklin shook his head. More than likely, the sheriff had
just signed Franklin or Darryl’s death warrant, particularly if he and his men
only winged the thing and it came looking for revenge again.

* * *

On the drive back into town, Julie was quiet, thoughtful.
“Can I ask you something?” she finally asked as they crossed the county line,
back into Wesley County. The night stretched out around them, hiding the
endless fields that ran next to the road. Big semis blew by the little car,
rocking it from side to side. They kept the car windows open to keep them cool.

“Sure,” Franklin said. He’d been bracing himself for this.
Whatever Eddie had said to Julie had left her shaken.

“Is this thing really that dangerous?” she asked.

“You know it’s killed people, right?” Franklin replied. Julie
had to know that.

“I know, it’s just—it doesn’t seem real.”

“You saw the gouges on my arms,” Franklin said. He wasn’t
sure what Julie was really asking about. She
knew
this thing was deadly.

“Eddie said—she wanted me to protect myself,” Julie
confessed. “She gave me her altar knife.”

“That three-sided thing?” Franklin asked. “Damn.” He
shivered. That knife had bothered him. It hadn’t killed people, but it was
deadly. He just knew it. What had Lexine thought about it? Had it bothered her
too?

“I didn’t want to, but she was so insistent that I take it,”
Julie explained.

“The creature won’t come after you,” Franklin said. “It only
comes after those folks who are special.” That made him happy, that Julie would
be safe, no matter what.

“So it went after Lexine, and it’ll come after you,” Julie
pointed out. “What happens if I’m nearby?”

“It only attacked Adrianna, not Ray,” Franklin said. God, he
still couldn’t believe she was dead.

“Eddie don’t really believe in this thing, you know,” Julie
said. “She’s afraid that it’s a product of y’all; that your negative thoughts
are why it’s manifesting.”

“I know. She doesn’t really believe in anything.” She’d
refused her gift. Which would probably keep her safe from the creature.

Franklin didn’t think the exchange was worth it.

“So what do you love?” Julie asked.

Franklin sighed. He’d been thinking about that for a while.
He’d loved his Mama, but then she’d died. He loved his family, when they
weren’t driving him crazy.

And he loved growing popping corn—tall stalks of corn,
leaves rustling in the breeze, fine silks on the top of each cob jutting
proudly from the stem. How the pale kernels grew golden in the sun and the
rain. He loved the science of drying the cobs, too, slowly baking them to
remove the moisture.

Then the popping. The anticipation of the kernels, sizzling
in lard, waiting until it was just right. How would the wings grow on each of
the kernels? Would there be button kernels instead? How thick was the hull? Had
he gotten it right?

“Lots of things,” Franklin finally told her. “How about
you?”

“I know you’re lying,” Julie replied. “But that’s okay. We
only just met. I don’t expect you to tell me. But as long as you know, yourself,
I think you’ll be fine.”

Franklin could only hope she was right.

* * *

“Take it,” Julie insisted, handing the knife, hilt first, to
Franklin.

“I really don’t want that thing,” Franklin said, pressing
back against the door of the car.

“Please,” Julie said, her eyes bright even in the dark.
“It’ll make me feel better.”

With a sigh, Franklin reached out and took the knife.
Despite the heat of the night, it still felt cold and heavy in his hands. “I’ll
take it, but I ain’t gonna use it,” he told her.

“I hope you won’t need to,” Julie said sincerely. She
reached out and briefly touched his cheek. “Take care. Be safe.”

Franklin pressed into her fingers. “I will. You too.”

He stood in the center of his driveway as she peeled out.
The quiet of the night came back, spiked with the music of the cicadas and
crickets. A few stars shone down, breaking through the lights of the town. Yet
Franklin felt restless, driven to do…something. He wasn’t sure what, or why.

Inside the house, both Mama and Gloria were waiting for
Franklin in the kitchen.

With a loud
thump
,
Franklin dumped the knife on the kitchen table. Suddenly, his night felt freer
again.

Worry spilled out from both ghosts, stifling and thick,
setting Franklin’s back up. “What
are
you worried about?” Franklin asked as he took a seat at the table. “About me?
Or that thing?”

Mama and Gloria both glared at the knife. They’d both also
pressed themselves back from the table, as if they was scared.

“So it’s the knife,” Franklin said, picking it up and
looking at the long blade. It sucked up all the light in the kitchen, including
the ghostly glow of his visitors. Power flowed from the metal into his fingers
and up his arm. The night grew still while Franklin grew stronger.

“This knife, here, it can hurt you, can’t it,” Franklin
said. He felt eerily calm, like the blade had shaved away all his usual
nervousness.

Mama slowly nodded.

“And the creature? Can this knife hurt it?” Franklin asked.
Maybe taking it from Julie had been a good idea. It sure made him feel good.

Neither Mama or Gloria replied.

They didn’t know.

Maybe that was why the knife hadn’t bothered Lexine—it
was just for ghosts.

“You know I could use this thing,” Franklin said casually.
“Put one or both of you out of your misery. Get you to pass on, stop haunting
me.”

Mama heaved her chest impressively, as if giving Franklin an
exasperated sigh. A single word floated from her.

Cheater.

“Using the knife is cheating? Pushing you beyond? Instead of
solving your issues? Doing my
duty?
”
Franklin asked, his temper rising. Damn it, he was tired of all the hauntings
and the creature and everything. He just wanted some kind of normal life again,
where Lexine wasn’t dead, and neither was Adrianna.

Mama just glared at Franklin, while Gloria looked
thoughtful.

With an effort, Franklin released the knife, dropping it
back onto the table, letting loose the power in his hand. “I won’t use the
knife, Mama. Not on you. I promise.”

Gloria couldn’t actually make him a thief when it came to
the most important thing in his life, growing popping corn.

This knife, this thing of power, wouldn’t turn him into a
cheater, either.

* * *

Franklin called Darryl from the Kroger the next day, during
his first break. He’d stepped outside the store, into the back alley, where
he’d at least have a little privacy. Large bales of cardboard boxes that had
been flattened lay neatly stacked next to the dumpsters. The sun beat down on
the tiny alley. Franklin hung next to the brick wall, trying to stay in the
shade.

“The sheriff’s being an idiot,” Franklin told Darryl. “He’s
gonna get one of us killed.”

“Whatcha mean?” Darryl asked.

Franklin told Darryl the plan the sheriff had about gathering
deputies and going hunting this thing. “He’ll end up just winging it, right? So
it’ll come directly after us.”

“Then we gotta be prepared,” Darryl said. “You know it’ll go
to your place first.”

“Maybe,” Franklin said. He hadn’t thought about that. “How
are we gonna fight it?” He still didn’t think they could just use love.

“I’m thinking maybe the problem has been the shotguns,”
Darryl said.

“What?” Franklin shook his head. Of course, Darryl would be
thinking about weapons.

“It’s a whirling thing, right?”

Franklin nodded, shivering in the heat. He could still see
it in his mind’s eye, like a dust devil, with poisonous whips.

“So maybe it needs something that’ll penetrate it more
slowly. Like an arrow.”

“I don’t understand,” Franklin complained. “And I don’t know
how to use a bow.”

“It’s okay. I do.”

“Now, you are the one gonna get us killed,” Franklin said.
“No. We gotta come up with a better plan on how to defend ourselves.”

“Well, when you come up with one, I’ll be all ears,” Darryl
said. “In the meanwhile, I’m getting more ammo ready,” he added, hanging up.

Franklin sighed. Darryl was probably right—that thing
would come after him first. And while Darryl’s plan was terrible, at least he had
one.

Franklin needed to come up with some kind of plan soon.

* * *

The funeral for Adrianna was at the Unitarian church across
town, one that Franklin had never been to before. It didn’t have crosses or
pictures of saints, just scenes of regular folks, helping each other. The floor
was made from a fancy marble that clicked or clacked with every step. Wide
wooden beams held up the roof, making the sanctuary feel even more open.
Families huddled closer together on the pews, friends sitting right beside their
neighbors, ’cause the place felt so big.

Franklin sat with Charlene and the others from the store,
though Charlene made sure that a couple of folks sat between her and Franklin.
None of his cousins had come: They hadn’t known the Sorrels as well. But at
least half the town was there.

The sermon was nice enough, though Franklin didn’t know any
of the hymns they sang. But lots of people stood up and talked about Adrianna,
telling stories about her life, her acts of kindness, how they’d all miss her
and her crazy schemes.

After the service, they all went downstairs to the community
room. That, at least, felt the same as the one at Franklin’s church, with similar
round tables, cookies, coffee, and tea.

Franklin went to say hello to Ray. “I’m so sorry,” Franklin
said, shaking Ray’s hand.

“I know,” Ray said. “You make sure you take care of this
thing. You stop it from killing anyone else.”

“I will,” Franklin promised. He had no idea how, but he
would.

* * *

Karl came up to Franklin as he was getting ready to leave
the church. Franklin almost didn’t recognize him, wearing a gray-green suit
that hung on him, like it had been made for a larger man, his hair washed and
hanging down around his shoulders, with a cream-colored shirt and black tie.