Incubus Excerpt

 ONE

Digging.

It was deep enough now. The man laid the shovel aside and reached for the small, unadorned box, caressing it to his breast before arranging it within the earthen sepulcher. Around him, the moonless city held its breath, offering no counterpoint as he uttered the plaintive words of forgiveness.

“Ya nichevó ne iméyu dlya vas.”

Hollow eyes surrounded him, observing with fateful comprehension; the greatest of all sorrows was to leave him.

“Tell Lizabeth goodbye, my darlings. She joins the ones beyond my love.”

He carefully pushed the dirt over the tiny grave, patting and smoothing it to leave no evidence of his presence, then rose and breathed in the aching solace of life around him, his eyes raking the empty darkness while the wind whispered to him in shimmering tones of regret. For him, release would never be more than a fantasy.

“Come my lovelies, let’s go back to the house.”

They followed in solemn silence, each jostling to be the one to receive his attention. He reached down, trailing gentle fingers across their heads, and sighed with a sadness that broke their hearts. Despite the mournfulness of their fate, they could not blame him, for it was their own choice, after all, and they would make it again to be included in his world.

But for the man, every night was an endless regret, a solemn requiem for all the lives he’d watched come and go. For him there was no recourse, no matter how much he might wish otherwise, for he was cursed by his own words. One misspoken desire, uttered in desperation so many lonely years before, had profaned the lives of all he loved, and now there was only this yawning emptiness and the knowledge that it would continue, perhaps stretching beyond time itself.

TWO

Dana leaned across the Formica-topped counter and called out. “Excuse me, is the manager in?”

Lunchtime; chaotic in the small diner that sold itself as a nod back to simpler times. Grease-streaked stainless steel ran up the walls, much like the husk of the exterior of the restaurant, making it appear like a giant Airstream trailer. The chrome barstools were upholstered in cracked red vinyl, as were the booths that lined the walls, and dusty metal blinds shaded the interior from the unforgiving afternoon sun.

The waitress in the soiled pink uniform was moving with harried efficiency behind the counter, a pot of stout brew clamped in her hand. At the end of the counter, a cheap box fan roared in futility, stirring little more than the dust entrails clinging to the yellowed plastic grill.

Dana slid onto the only empty stool, careful to avoid contact with the man on the neighboring perch. He glanced at her momentarily, plump fingers poised above the greasy carnage on his plate, and allowed his eyes to slink over her with the same limpid zeal he would show a leg of lamb. She stifled a shudder.

“Excuse me,” she repeated, focusing her attention on the woman behind the counter. At last the waitress sighed and tossed a glance her way.

“Yeah, what’s the problem?”

“I’d like to speak to the manager.”

The waitress regarded her with suspicious hostility. “We’re making food as fast as we can.”

“Yeah, right,” a man at the end of the counter called. “I ordered a sandwich half an hour ago. How long does it take?”

“It’s only been ten minutes, John.”

The waitress made a gesture at the man and looked back at Dana. “Sorry, but we’re very busy today.”

“I’m not here to eat. I just need to speak to the manager.”

“You want a job, I’ll get you an application, but we’re not hiring.”

“No. It’s about an employee of his, Eva Booth.”

Dana thought she saw a shadow cross the waitress’s dark eyes. “Why do you want to ask questions? Are you the police?”

“No. I’m her sister. I heard she worked here.”

The waitress’s eyes glanced furtively toward the back of the restaurant, as though somehow the walls might hear her. “You need to talk to Leo. He’s the owner.”

Dana swallowed her frustration. “Where is he?”

“He’s not here now. Come back at two. Maybe he’ll talk to you.” She shrugged. “Maybe not. He’s a busy man; has two other restaurants.”

“Lourdes, order up!”

“In a minute, Carlos.” She waved impatiently at the cook who was holding up John’s sandwich. “I have to go. If you stay here, you have to order something.”

“Fine. Bring me a cup of coffee.”

 *  *  *

 Leo still hadn’t shown at two-thirty when Lourdes ended her shift. She finished cashing out her tickets and peeled off her apron and hairnet, loosening the restrictive knot of hair with a grateful sigh. Dana was still waiting, though she had moved to a booth since the lunch crowd thinned. Lourdes walked past the table, then stopped and turned, giving the woman a sympathetic look.

“Maybe Leo won’t come today.”

Dana glanced up at her and offered a weak smile. “I’ll wait.”

Lourdes slid into the seat across the table and started ripping the ends off two packages of sugar, pouring them into a paper cup half full of dark, bitter coffee and stirred thoughtfully.

“You say you’re Eva’s sister?”

Dana nodded. “Dana. I just drove down from Sullivan.”

“Sullivan–where’s that?”

“Illinois.”

The waitress seemed to consider this. “You’re on vacation then?”

Dana glanced over her shoulder as though she feared her answer would be overheard. The only other customer, an elderly man, was perched at the counter with the cook, Carlos. Both were too absorbed in some game show on the wall-mounted TV to pay any attention to her. The other waitress was refilling condiment bottles at the opposite end of the counter, white earbuds crammed into her ears.

“I’m looking for my sister. Did you know her?”

Lourdes fiddled with the sugar wrapper, folding the little white square of paper over and over until it was a tiny ball that she flicked across the floor. With that dispatched, she sat back and regarded the other woman without expression.

“You look a little like her, now that I look at you.”

Dana leaned closer, a spark lighting her dark eyes. “So you do know her?”

The waitress shrugged and finished off her coffee, crumbling the paper cup with painful deliberation before answering. “She worked here for about a year.”

“But not anymore?”

“No, I haven’t seen her in over a month. One day she didn’t show up for work. Leo got pissed–it was Saturday and Saturdays are very busy. Tourists, you know. They come here to drink and have a good time. You know about the history here in the Latin Quarter–the factories and warehouses that are restaurants and bars now? Nice places to get drunk and watch the freaks. Lucky for those people, they can go back to their big houses in the north and forget all about what they see here. Money can buy such peace of mind.”

Dana couldn’t care less about the city or its history, but she also couldn’t say that. Not if she hoped to get the answers she sought from this woman. “She never came back after that Saturday?” she pumped when the waitress paused.

“No, she didn’t, not even for her paycheck. Leo said maybe she got into trouble. That’s why he told us not to talk about her. He said if anyone came around, to send them to him. When you showed up, I thought maybe you were the police.”

“Why would he think she had gotten into trouble?”

“Who knows? Everyone gets into trouble these days, especially around here. Now that more people come here, there are so many drugs, so many bad people.”

“Was she using drugs?” Dana was aware she was holding her breath.

“No, I don’t think so. Eva was a quiet girl. Kept to herself, not many friends. She didn’t party like the others.”

Dana nodded, remembering her older sister. She had come down here from Sullivan a year and a half before when Brad, her fiancé, decided he wanted someone more exciting. It had shocked Dana that her sister had the courage to leave her hometown alone to strike out for parts unknown, but Eva’s pain had gone deep. She wanted nothing around to remind her of Brad’s betrayal. They had an aunt in the city; Eva had stayed with her the first month here, but even she hadn’t heard from Eva in over four months.

“Did she have any friends?”

“No, I don’t think so. Oh, wait a minute.” The waitress leaned closer, an air of conspiracy in her manner. Dana felt her breath catch. “There was a man.”

A man? Eva had never mentioned a man in her emails. To hear her tell it, she wanted nothing more to do with men after her experience with Brad. Dana had thought perhaps her reaction was a little overboard, that she would get over the pain and move on with her life. She even secretly applauded her sister’s decision to leave town, even though she knew she would miss her. They had never before been apart.

Eva had always been more sensitive to things like the situation with Brad. Like their mother, she tended to wear her heart on her sleeve. She was a champion of femininity, of small, defenseless creatures like children and kittens. Her room at home was still populated by baby dolls and stuffed animals.

Dana, on the other hand, was the practical one; the tomboy, as her mother always referred to her. Her approach to matters of the heart was more cerebral than emotional, and after seeing the pain her sister had endured at Brad Tower’s expense, Dana was thankful for that aspect of her personality. No one was worth that kind of suffering.

Dana could still see her sister’s eyes the day she left. If what the waitress said about this man was true, then maybe Eva had found someone to help her push her pain aside. The man who could accomplish that would have to be somebody special.

“This man–was he her boyfriend?”

“I don’t know. He came here a few times to see her. Sometimes he walked her home. He never said much to us. Just sat in the corner and watched her. Sometimes he ordered coffee, but I don’t think he ever drank it. He didn’t look like he could drink Cuban coffee.”

“What do you mean?”

The waitress shrugged again. “He was not Hispanic.”

Dana nodded, unsure what one had to do with the other. “Do you know the man’s name?”

“No, but I don’t think he was from here. He spoke with accent, you know?”

She didn’t know, and she wished there was someone around who did. Someone with some answers. Didn’t any of this seem odd to these people? A woman disappeared without even coming back for her last paycheck? Anyone who worked in a place like this could hardly afford to give up a paycheck.

“Do you remember anything else–what he looked like, where he lived?”

The waitress appeared to be thinking. “He had blond hair. He was very pale, and tall.”

“Thin or fat?”

“He looked thin, but you know, it’s hard to tell because he always wore this jacket that was too big.”

“What kind of jacket?”

“I don’t know, like a suit coat, only not so nice. Always black–black jacket, black pants. Everything black.”

“Did he look like a businessman?”

“Oh no. No, you know, he was more like a…student. You know, like at college?”

Dana thought about that. Someone from the college? She had seen signs for a college on a few buildings a couple of streets over. Maybe he was a student or a professor. And foreign?

“Do you think this man has hurt your sister?”

Did she? Lourdes hadn’t mentioned seeing the man since Eva’s disappearance. It was as if she had just realized the finality of that word–disappearance. She hadn’t allowed herself to think of anything like that before now, however exaggerated her suspicions might have been. For her, it was unthinkable. She and Eva had always been close; Dana was sure she would know if something had happened to her sister. She would feel it. Wouldn’t she?

She looked at the waitress; the woman appeared to be around her own age–mid-twenties. Did she have any family, any sisters or brothers? Could she imagine what it was like not to know? Was that why she had taken the time to sit down and talk like this, or was it merely curiosity, the hunger for lunch hour banter? Dana couldn’t stand the thought of her sister being the subject of the casual speculation of strangers. They may have had their differences as all siblings do, but she was still fiercely protective of her older sister, especially against outsiders.

There was one time in particular when her sense of protectiveness had nearly gotten her thrown out of school. She was twelve at the time; Eva was fourteen. One of Eva’s classmates, a known bully, was bothering her after school while they all waited for the bus. Eva had asked her several times to leave her alone, but the bully persisted. When she finally grabbed Eva, Dana snapped.

She didn’t even remember the fight, didn’t remember the fact that she broke the bully’s nose, or that the bully had clocked her a good one in her right eye, giving her a shiner that would hang on for two weeks. When she came to her senses, she was sitting in the principal’s office while her parents talked with Mr. Burke behind closed doors. She didn’t know exactly what was said between them, only that her father had somehow talked the principal out of suspending her.

Nothing more was ever said of the incident, though Dana could have sworn it was pride she saw in her father’s eyes as they drove home that day. Needless to say, no one ever tried to hurt Eva after that. No one, that is, but Brad, though even he had been subjected to a scathing visit from little sister. A visit, she realized, that made little impression on him. The man had thicker skin than a rhino; nothing got to him. He was as heartless as they came, and Dana could only marvel at how thoroughly he had pulled the wool over her sister’s eyes.

When Dana first heard Lourdes mention a man, it was Brad who popped into her mind. It would be just like something he would do, following Eva down here to drag her heart through the mud again. But Brad was anything but thin, blond, or intelligent enough to pull off a foreign accent.

“Can you at least remember his name?” Dana asked hopefully.

The regret in her eyes was genuine as the waitress shook her head. “Maybe Irena will know,” she offered. “She works at night. That’s when your sister worked most of the time. Maybe she will know about him. She comes in at five.”

Dana glanced at her watch–two-fifty. There was no sense hanging around here. She thanked the waitress and rose to leave when the cook Carlos said something to the waitress in Spanish.

“What did he say?” Dana asked.

“He said the man was always on foot. That he must live around here somewhere.”

“Do you know where?” Dana asked the cook.

The man shook his head and in accented English, said, “What are you going to do–go to every door in the city searching for a man you have never seen?”

Incubus is available on Amazon for paperback and kindle. Read for free on Kindle Unlimited.