Part 15

Old Jenny sits hunched over behind her spool-table, eyes closed again, silently shuffling the cards to the beat of the drums emanating from unseen speakers.  Finally the song stops, and so does she.  She sets the cards down on the table.  “What is it you seek from me?”

“Um, you summoned me, didn’t you?”  Mary asks.

Jenny snorts, “I did?  Then by all means, you’re free to go.”  The old woman chuckles, wipes a bead of sweat from her brow.  She stands up, her hunched back almost parallel to the floor.  She grabs a cherry stained cane that until that moment, had leaned against the table.

Mary glances at me and I shake my head.  “Wait!  I’m sorry, I just… wasn’t sure what to expect,” she says.

“Well then, what is it you want from Old Jenny?”  She raps her knuckles against the deck of Tarot cards before she takes her seat.

“Go ahead,” I say, my voice nothing more than a whisper.

She takes a deep breath, preparing herself for the answers.  “Why me?”  She asks.

This draws another laugh from Jenny.  “Oh, honey, look at yourself, even beneath the dirt and grime, you’re a looker.”

Mary scratches her cheek, looks at her fingernails, shudders.  “Ok, why should I…”  She pauses, looks my direction again, “Why should I trust any of you?”

Jenny opens her mouth to answer and then closes it.  It is the crone’s turn to look at me, and I can feel myself being read, from cover to cover, as they say.  I shift uncomfortably.  Finally, as if she’s put my life story down on the table in front of her, she looks back to Mary, “He wants nothing of Cyrus in charge.  Freak Beans-“  She raises her voice, “You might as well come in here Benny, I hear you shifting restlessly out there.”  She winks at Mary as Benny comes in, doffing his top hat and placing it under his right arm.

“Sorry ma’am, this kinda effects all of us, I didn’t think she’d mind.”  He says.

Jenny looks at Mary who nods, “He’s fine.”

“As I was saying,” the old woman continues, “Benny here wants to see Cyrus fail because he doesn’t like Cyrus, and Viktor… Let’s just say that if Viktor can’t be in charge, then no one should.”

“Viktor?”  Mary asks.

“The Russian,” Freak Beans says and I nod.

“And you?”  Mary asks Old Jenny.

Jenny smiles, her cracked lips pulling tightly across her remaining yellow teeth.  “Me?  I’m just an old woman.  I want nothing more than to sit here and listen to my music and enjoy what time I have left on this planet.  I don’t care who is in charge as long as they don’t hassle me!  Though I fear Cyrus would do just that.  So how are you going to stop him?”

“Wait, what?  I thought I was asking the questions.”

“Well then,”  She taps the deck of cards on the table before her.  “Cut the deck and ask.”

Mary reaches for the Tarot cards, her hand pausing a mere inch from the deck, fiercely aware that the old crone’s eyes are on her.  She takes a deep breath and cuts the deck, almost in half, re-stacks and squares them.  “What should I do?”

Jenny draws the top three cards and lays them out in a row, face down.  It is then that I notice that the backs are different, the cards are from different decks.  She flips the first one over, revealing a couple dressed in what I can only describe as wealthy Mongolian.  Four cups lay scattered about them, a fifth cup in the man’s hand, turned over, the few remaining drops of whatever liquid the cup once held frozen in time partway to the floor.  I note a cat hunched over one of the cups as Jenny begins.  “The Five of Cups.  This card represents your recent past, maybe as close as when you walked through my door.  I hate to say it dear, but you need to accept it.  Denying it will not change the fact that you are… one of us.”

Mary raises her eyebrows, the skepticism evident on her face.

“The Five of Cups typically reveals itself when the asker is having trouble accepting change, such as you ending up homeless.”

The next card reads eight of swords across the top and a pale tan border rings a man who is fending off three medusas to his left and a giant wearing a crown, no, it is the sun god, to his right.  Eight narrow swords stand, point down in the ground around him, forming almost a cage.  “You know what must be done, don’t you?”  Jenny asks.

Mary’s eyes widen.  “No, I couldn’t.”

“You’re the only thing stopping you.  Charlie there will help you out, and I’m sure Benny will go along just to say he was part of this.  He used to be a writer you know, this is one grand adventure I doubt he wants to miss.”  Jenny winks at Freak Beans as she reaches for the last card.

“Wait,” Mary cries out, and then looks down into her lap, ashamed of her sudden outburst.  “That card represents the future, right?  What if I don’t want to know?”

Jenny pulls her hand away from the face down card.  “Dear, the future happens whether you want it to or not.  I’ll tell you what.  I won’t be needing that card for a while.  How about you take it with you and you can look at it when you’re good and ready.”  She pulls an ancient piece of newspaper, yellow as her teeth, from where it is stuck to the wall, tearing one of the corners in the process and folds it into an envelope.  Without lifting the card, she slides it into the newspaper and hands the package to Mary.  “There you go.  Just make sure I get it back!  Now if there is nothing else, it’s time for my nap.”  Closing her eyes, she is snoring almost instantly and the three of us, Mary, Freak Beans, and myself rise to leave.  I am holding open the door for my companions when Jenny calls out, her eyes still asleep.  “And Charlie, I would like another speaker if it’s not too much trouble.”

Part 14

“What happened here?”  Mary asks as she tiptoes across the bones.  A pile shifts, the bones rattling against each other as they settle into their new locations.

Something squeaks in terror nearby and I see a snake slither off out of the glow of my light.  “Circle of life I guess.”  This way.

We walk through a narrow tunnel, bones piled knee high down both sides, forcing us to walk in the inch of muddy water that runs down the center.  The walls are covered in a green-brown slime that seems to ooze from the ceiling.  I concentrate on the steps ahead and still manage to stumble, my hand slipping in the slime when I throw it out to steady myself.  “Ugh,” I say, looking at the water and debating whether I’d end up dirtier if I tried to wash it off.

“How far is it to Jenny’s?”  Mary asks as we turn another corner.

“Not too much further,”  I say, indicating another turn, down another small tunnel.  The mounds of bones lessens the further we get from the where we descended, and now only occasionally does she shiver as bones crack underfoot.  Three more turns and she is glancing over her shoulder at me.

“Are you sure about this?” she asks.

”Definitely, it should be right around this corner.”  I point to a bend in the passageway some fifteen feet in front of us.

“No, I mean coming here.”

“Oh.  I’m not sure we have much of a choice.”  I admit, shrugging my shoulders, causing the light from the Sigil Sphere to bounce along the walls.  At some point, the green-brown slime had disappeared, and I notice tool marks in the wall.  “I hope she doesn’t eat the stuff,” I say out loud.  We reach the corner and I stop before rounding it.  “Are you ready?”  I ask her.

She takes a deep breath and squares her shoulders.  Head held up high, she nods.  “Let’s go.”

We turn the corner together.  A wooden wall has been constructed from scraps and is propped against the wall, blocking one of the side passages.  A screen door hangs askew from a pair of rusted hinges zip-tied to the wood.  Zydeco music emanates from within.  A porch has been crafted from pallets and resting on one of them is a rocking chair, currently occupied by a familiar face, underneath an equally familiar stovepipe hat.

“Benny!”  Mary’s eyes light up and she speeds up, reaching the man before I do.

He too, is smiling as I reach them.  “Freak Beans,”  I nod politely.  “What brings you here?”

“Just paying my respects to the old lady.  You?”

“Same,”  I tell him, but I am certain he does not believe me.

“Very good,” He nods, winks at Mary.  “And you Miss, what do you hope to gain from a visit to the witch?”

“I heard that!”  Comes an ancient voice from within, shouting to be heard above the music.

Freak Beans smiles at us and talks over his shoulder. “I meant it in the best possible way, Ma’am.”

“I’m sure you did.  You better keep it that way!”  The old voice from within shouts back. 

“Did you bring her anything?”  He whispers.

I admit, I had not even thought of it, but the look of panic on Mary’s face speaks volumes.
“Bring… her… anything?”  She asks.

Freak Beans laughs.  “It is fine, I must have something,” he begins to pat his jacket, starting at his shoulders.  “Ah, these will do perfectly!”  He says as his hands reach his pockets.

Mary holds out her hand without looking at what Benny has and is rewarded with a handful of mashed potatoes.  “Um…”

“Perfect,”  I say, winking at Freak Beans.  I open the screen door and give Mary a push, shoving her through.  I let the door swing shut with a loud crash as I step in behind her. 

Jenny is seated at a large wooden spool turned on its side, the words McCoy Electric stenciled upon it in black.  Her eyes are closed as she sways to the music.  Her ebon skin is dry, her lips are cracked and peeling, and her hair is filthy, having once been dreadlocks, it is now more or less a mane. 

We stand just inside the door, waiting for her to acknowledge us.  Mary looks at me and I shake my head.  She looks down at the potatoes in her hand, and pulls a large piece of lint from them, letting it fall to the floor.

“Well, don’t just stand there.  Have a seat.”  The ancient voice from earlier emanates from the slight woman. 

“Umm, we brought you these.”  Mary says, extending her hand.

Jenny sniffs the air, having yet to open her eyes.  “Ah, potatoes.  You didn’t get those from Benny did you?”  She chuckles and slides a bowl toward us.

I stand quiet, remembering my first, nervous encounter with the witch.

“Erm, yes, I did.  I’m sorry, if you don’t want them…”

“Oh hush girl, give Ol’ Jenny those, I’ll eat them whether they’re from you or from Benny, or even from that fool Cyrus.  Food is food, I always say.”

“Yes Ma’am,”  Mary drops the potatoes into the bowl and pushes it back towards the crone. 

Jenny grabs the bowl and ravenously devours the dish, licking the bowl clean.  “Subway Charlie, I hear you breathing, are you going to say ‘hi’?”

“I’m sorry Jenny.  Hello.”  I nod, and laugh at the motion.

“Sit!”

We do, the crates scrape across the concrete ground.  I pull out the tarot card and set it in front of me.

“Ah good, you brought it back to me.  I was hoping you would.”  She finally opens her eyes.  They are milky white, the cataracts completely formed.

Mary gasps,  “I know someone who can,” She catches herself, “Knew someone who could help you see again.”

Old Jenny laughs.  The raspy sound emanates from her stomach.  She only stops because she descends into a coughing fit.  “Dairy Mary, I can see fine, why else do you think you came to me?”

Part 13

I pull her along with me as we weave around a broken table, heading toward a pair of swinging doors.  I stiff arm them and they crash open, revealing a long, dark hallway that leads off to our right and left.  From past experience, I know that the left leads to another theater and then a fire exit, while the right leads to the concessions and the main lobby.  We race right, the doors swinging wildly behind us.

“Stop!”  One of the three men calls out, followed by another crash as they come through the swinging doors. 

Mary looks over her shoulder, redoubles her effort, begins to pull me.

“Theater four,” I huff and she glances at the numbers above the doors that line the hallway.

As we pass theater three, its door swings open and out walks a muscular hispanic man in a white t-shirt, blue jeans, and a yellow hard hat.  The look of surprise vanishes from his face as he catches sight of the three men chasing us.  He shouts something in Spanish over his shoulder and pulls out the large hammer that is hanging on his belt.  Our pursuers try to go around him but he swings his weapon, causing the three men to pull up short.

I stop at the door to theater four and watch as they begin to spread out, try to encircle our would-be savior.  They have just about succeeded when five more construction workers pour from within theater three.  I chuckle to myself and push my way in beside Mary who is standing just inside the doorway.  The theater looks nothing like the one we have just exited.  For one, the sconces in the wall are all freshly polished.  The wallpaper appears new and even the screen is white and pristine.  Stacks of new seats line both of the side walls, waiting to be installed, the plush red cushions still wrapped in plastic.  Another hispanic man rests in one of the chairs, his hard hat pulled low over his eyes.  I motion for Mary to follow me and we move towards the projection booth.  My heart drops when I see the new door and the even newer hardware.  I hold my breath as we approach, hoping that the door is unlocked and let it out slowly as the door clicks open before us.

“What was that?”  Mary looks at me as I close the door behind us.

“More like who, and I don’t know, but we need to hurry.  Pretty soon the winners of that fight are going to come looking for us and I don’t want to be here when they do.”

“But, why were they just standing around in there, I mean, why hadn’t the workers cleared them out before?”

I shake my head, “I don’t know.”  I kneel down, begin prying at floor boards.  “Help me, there used to be a hatch that went into the sub-basement in here.”

I can feel the look she gives me, but she complies and pretty soon, she lifts the corner of a slat of hard wood about an inch off the ground.  I stick my hand in and a section of the floor lifts up, revealing a square hole and a ladder leading down.

“Down there?”  She asks and I nod.  She protests, but a noise from the other side of the door sends her scrambling down the ladder and into the waiting darkness below.

I follow closely, letting the door drop back into place above my head, shutting out all light completely.  I hear a slight whimper below me.  “You okay?”  I ask.

“Yeah, it’s just dark.”

“As soon as I have a hand free, I’ll get the orb out again.”

“Where are we?”  She asks as I bring the sphere to life, revealing barren concrete walls.

“It’s storage for the theater.  Through here.”  I indicate an opening in the wall that leads us into another empty room.  We pass through two more rooms, all of them empty, before coming to a final room, a pallet of boxes labeled popcorn set against the far wall.  I push the boxes, grunting as the wood grates across the concrete floor, revealing a metal door set into the wall.

I hold the Sigil Sphere up to the door and it opens without as much as a squeak, revealing a small room with another ladder set into the floor.  I pocket the sphere and descend deeper underneath the theater, followed closely by Mary.

As I step off the ladder, something crunches beneath my feet.  I have the sphere out and glowing again by the time Mary is standing beside me. 

“Welcome to the Graveyard,”  I tell her and she screams, staring at the corpses of thousands of rodents heaped beneath our feet.