The Fire Night Ball (23 page)

"Shouldn't we look for Marlena?"

"First I have to find the deceased woman's husband. Or rather, the deceased man's husband, if Mrs. Drake is right. Hey, did you feel that?"

"My God, what now?"

What they felt was a violent shaking in the ground. It continued on while overhead, multiple lightning bolts rippled across the sky.

Chloe clutched Ron's arm. Faith abruptly sat down on the granite walkway that encircled the pool, grabbing onto a slab with her fingers. They all looked at each other as the rumbling and the shifting of the earth went on for several more seconds.

When it finally quieted, the rumbling was followed by another ominous sound. There arose from the far side of the pond, where the bonfire was still brightly visible, a crescendo of raised voices.

"What next?" said Chloe, dazedly.

When the rumbling of the ground and the lightning overhead first began, Apollo was standing by the stretcher, staring at the corpse and scratching his head.

In pulling the heavy skirts back down from where they were wound around the bald head, he’d made the discovery that the madwoman had a set of hairy balls.

Was this crazy world coming to an end? Was it because of the curse his cousins had told him about? Was Marlena safe?

Smelling ozone and seeing lightning in the air, feeling the ground shift again, Apollo made haste and sprinted off in the direction of the raised voices. That was when he heard that deep booming sound, he knew what it was; it meant a tree had cracked and then crashed, uprooted by the violence of wind or earth.

Whatever was going on over there, Apollo planned to be on hand in case anyone, and Marlena in particular, needed rescuing. He took off at a run.

"Wow, an earthquake in the midst of a lightning storm," Ron said to Chloe. "God is giving us quite a show, not that we needed one. I'd better check out what those folks over there are screaming about. Stay here."

About fifty yards away from an overturned tree, in the darkness punctuated by the flickering light of the bonfire, Harry Drake was answering an invidious allegation by Thomas Hawker with a punch in the face.

But Hawker, who had his own ideas about Letty's death, was not dissuaded. From his pocket he drew a loaded pistol and began to wave it around.

"Drake, I demand you produce Satan's whore! If I find her myself, I'll kill her! Kill her and gore her and burn the heart of the devil's spawn!"

Arriving at a run, Apollo got to the two men first. He began shouting for help and began to drag Drake out of harm's way, but Drake kept plunging toward Hawker, who continued to brandish the firearm.

It was at that point the ground began to rumble in earnest, and the lightning strikes peppered the sky with blue and gold zigzags, rattling all the china and silver on the buffet tables and throwing people to the ground. Another giant oak fell. The bonfire licking the air with fiery tongues seemed to be mating with the lightning strikes.

But the two antagonists were oblivious to nature and its danger.

"Marlena Bellum is Satan's whore and carrying His child! Her freaking mother killed my wife!" screamed Hawker.

Harry roared back: "Don't you insult the mother of my child! Take that back, you sack of shit! You don't know what you're talking about!"

The ongoing rumbling of the ground and the lightning show in the sky around the circling protagonists created a stage of light, shadow, and motion that was right out of hell. Remaining onlookers fled.

Hawker wiped the blood off his face and came roaring at the bigger man, pushing Drake toward the pond with his momentum.

He would've gone into the water if Apollo hadn't caught him in time. Drake righted himself. Meanwhile, Ron had arrived and was attempting to wrestle the gun away from Hawker.

Drake was armed only with a dancing shoe that he'd removed from one foot to have something with which to battle the enemy.

The gun went off. Then Drake flung off Apollo's restraining arms and came charging back toward Hawker.

As a second shot rang out, a lightning bolt came slashing down through the sky and smashed into the pond.

A look of surprise on his features, Drake fell face down into the water.

Hawker shouted that he’d killed Drake in justifiable revenge for Letty's life, fulfilling the curse. Then he turned and ran into the shadows.

Apollo moved quickly to Drake's rescue, jumping in and fishing him out. He laid him on the ground, and Ron immediately began CPR. He instructed Apollo to run and alert the ambulance drivers to wait, that there would be more cargo on their trip to the hospital.

Ron fully expected Drake to revive. He'd been under the water only briefly, for less than a minute, and there was no sign of a wound or other trauma. Hawker's bullets had lodged far of their mark, in a juniper tree.

But when, after eighty compressions, Drake didn't begin to show any signs of returning to life, Ron listened to his heart. It was then he realized Harold Drake was stone dead, the victim of a massive heart attack. The look of surprise was imprinted on his death mask, so quickly had he expired.

In the morning newscasts, it was reported that Harold Augustus Drake, President of Drake Enterprises and the foremost real estate developer in the state of Wyoming, had died suddenly while attending an annual Christmas Fire Night Ball at Mill's Creek in Alta.

According to the coroner's report, Drake was the victim of a heart attack. It coincided with a bizarre combination of dramatic natural events. A lightning bolt had felled the oldest oak tree in the district. Simultaneously, there was an earthquake of 6.9 magnitude, the first of its kind in Wyoming.

It hadn't been established whether there was a connection beyond coincidence between these natural phenomena and Harold Drake's death, but there was a faction of natives who were quoted as saying they would never believe otherwise.

Funeral arrangements were pending and would take place in Bulette at Scottish Presbyterian Church.

An hour after these cataclysmic events occurred, Thomas Hawker III turned himself over to the authorities and spent the night in jail. He was released the next day, still claiming that his dead wife had been the victim of witchcraft and that he had unmasked Harold Drake as Satan and executed him, a fitting retribution for his conspiring with Marlena Bellum to unleash the forces of evil on an unsuspecting community of believers. He left Alta soon afterward and never spoke Marlena Bellum’s name again--he feared to.

But in fact, as Ron pointed out to Drake's widow, neither the lightning nor the earthquake nor even the fight with Hawker had been contributing factors in Harry's death. Rather, it was his ignorance about the importance of cardiac symptoms.

However, there was one casualty other than the old oak tree that was directly attributable to a lightning strike. Hit by a bolt, the gold rooster at the top of the clock-tower at Drake's Roost bit the dust, having taken on the function of a lightning rod.

In the summer of 1978, when Lila was touring Europe with her sister Marty, she would explain her reaction to friends in this way: "When the two big cocks croaked at the same time, it was a sign for Lila Coffin to get out of Dodge."

A week later, Lila thought of someone who might be able to do something useful with Harry's rock pile. She turned it over to what she called "the local hysterical society." Her waggish reference was to the Northeast Territory Historical Society, headed up by Bryce Scattergood.

She’d been favorable impressed by Mr. Scattergood's mission, his demeanor, and his physique. As Marty later observed to Marlena, "Lila hardly talked of anyone else on our European jaunt."

Rewinding to midnight, Christmas night

In the words of the Rocky Horror Picture that was touring the country in 1977, “Let’s do the time warp again.”

Several missing pieces from that tragic night need to be told to complete the picture, including Codwell Dimmer's role in the proceedings and also the role of Cassandra Vye, the ancestral ghost hovering over them.

For four long days, poor Coddie had been forced to cool his heels in a hotel suite, his isolation and emotional meltdown punctuated only by morning, noon, and night ventures into B. L. Zebub's, where he’d become well acquainted with the lesbians who were hoping to lure his wife to Key West. Just what he needed, more competition!

To his mind, his efforts to impress upon Marlena his desire for a reconciliation had been met with indignation, indifference, and angry outbursts. He would try once more, on Christmas evening.

Upon arriving by taxicab at Mill's Creek at midnight, Coddie was in an uproariously drunken state. He appeared at the front door as the unfashionably late guest. Then he barreled inside, unannounced.

Spotting Chloe, but not noticing her dropped jaw, he elaborately bowed to her. She was in the parlor drinking brandied coffee, exhausted from the evening's calamitous events.

Lila, who'd just accepted Chloe's gracious invitation to spend the night, was poised on the first step of the grand staircase, a large glass of brandy in her hand.

“You all sheem shurprised to shee me," mumbled Coddie. "Am I the uninvited guest to the feasht? But, no. I have an invitation.” He waved it, so unsteady on his feet that he almost fell over.

From an adjoining hallway connecting the parlor to the kitchen area, Coddie's late entrance was spotted by Ron, who was tending to the bandaging of minor wounds suffered by three members of the hired staff.

While guests fled for their lives, the young people had collided with each other in rushing out to see the spectacular lightning show on Hatter's Field that had spelled an abrupt end to the party.

Ron called out, "Steady there, Mr. Dimmer. I'll be with you in a second."

Coddie ignored the call-out.

“Guess what I got. Five hundred smackaroos for good old Harry Drake, my good old buddy. I got 'em right here in my pocket--five one hundred dollar bills. Where is that snake? I've got his winnings. Two days ago he bested me on the pool table at his hotel. I didn't have it all on me at the time."

He stopped and burped loudly before going on. "You shee, ladies and genulmen. You shhhhhee, me and Harry had ourselves a sporting afternoon, during which, I'm s-s-sorry to s-s-ay, I failed to perform adequately. Conshider these silver coins for Judas. Conshider whatever. The dough belongs to Harry. Not that he needs it. Winner takes all. He gets everything--hook, line, and stinker. I mean....ha ha ha....I mean wife, I mean slinker.”

No one said anything, but Lila began to giggle uncontrollably, with tears running down her ashen cheeks.

"You think ish funny, lady? I had an agreement with your husband, no joking matter, long time ago. We agreed on two rules. Do NOT fall in love with her and do NOT knock her up. Naughty, naughty. Your hubbie failed to abide by the rules, Mrs. Drake. The rules are the rules, between genulmen. Hey, did I miss anything?“

Lila hiccoughed and then said grimly. "Are you speaking to me, whoever you are? You didn't miss a thing except divine retribution. Everyone's gone home. I'm going up to bed."

Ron came in then and said, "Mr. Dimmer, the ladies are tired. Let me get you something to drink. Then perhaps you and I can take a little walk upstairs. We'll find you a place to lie down."

"No lie down, no way Jose. Came to see world's prettiest bonfire, best in class they tell me at the hotel. Came to play a game of pool with good ol' Harry Drake. Came to dance with my wife. Wassa madda? Where ish everyone? Time to party!"

"Come on, Mr. Dimmer," said Ron, taking him firmly by the shoulder. "Let's go find you some coffee."

Sitting in a corner by the fire, Marlena was barely aware that her husband had entered the room and then left it.

Marlena was reviewing in her mind the conversation she’d had with Harry in her bedroom two hours earlier.

It had been the crucial moment of decision for her. The scene was committed to memory. She was reliving it in exact detail, for the fortieth time. She assumed she would be doing so for the rest of her natural life.

Marlena would be willing to swear on her mother's Bible she'd heard tinkling female laughter coming from the window when she led Harry upstairs to her bedroom.

As they talked, Cassandra's mocking spirit had been everywhere.

She'd perched on a chair while Harry remained standing.

He had seemed violently angry with her.

He voiced his strong suspicion, in the roughest of terms, about her being in league with her husband to railroad him, citing the divorce papers he'd seen, the vandalism in the bar, and Coddie's claim she was pregnant by him.

Marlena was startled by his brutal and unfounded accusations. She burst into a spontaneous outpouring of tears. The young woman who had never cried in front of her lover before cried and cried and cried.

After a time, Harry seemed willing to placate her. He sat down on the chair and pulled her into his lap, stroking her hair. Nonetheless, he kept looking, surreptitiously, toward the door, as if he were expecting someone.

Look out, breathed Cassandra
.

"Let's blow this scene, my love. Hightail it to Key West for New Years," Harry said, "where no one knows us. We can knit potholders on the beach and drink margaritas. This town sucks."

Marlena smiled weakly through her tears.

He held her by her heaving shoulders. At first she allowed herself to be comforted and lulled into believing his old love for her had returned.

But while she'd been listening to Harry's rant, she'd become slowly aware of a third party hovering.

Look out there, through the door.

Entranced by the echoing voice of a woman in her head, she peered carefully at the crack in the door. Then she caught sight of the ashen-haired woman crouched there, making a questioning face. Her miming was clearly intended for Harry. The woman's face was familiar, which at first puzzled Marlena, until she remembered she herself had extended the party invitation to Lorna.

When she'd entered the sheriff's office, she recalled, her old classmate had seemed grateful for the invitation, yet had acted oddly.

"Someone out there seems impatient to see you," said Marlena.

"Oh, that's nobody, just my pot connection. I told her I'd be up here with you."