Not mad, but bound more than a madman is…

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Part One Here

Part Two Here

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Hey, Hey What Can I Do?

            While Arthur and Mary made plans to go to see the Joergensens, Joshua tried to talk to Caleb.

“What’s going on little brother?” Joshua asked as if he did not know. Josh hid the pain in his heart from his brother. Asgeir was as close to him as anyone else ever had been. His loss was a horror.

Cal had returned to his bed feeling defeated down to his bones. He was always a maelstrom of emotions mixed with a painful sort of being numb. The level of discomfort was exquisite.

Joshua went to Caleb’s desk and sat down. He took out his phone and made a call. “Hey. I guess you’ve heard the news. Look, I really need you over here now. We’ve lost one little brother today. I think we’re on the verge of losing two. I know. I know. I’m having a hell of a time holding myself together, too. We need you. You need us. Cool. See you in fifteen.”

Caleb, speaking in monotones, said: “Who were you talking to and what is this about news?”

“Listen, little brother, I can see there are storms raging inside of you. I am sorry for that and I will never abandon you. I want you to know that because I also know that being abandoned is one of your greatest fears. There are reasons for that. Nothing happens by chance. Nothing. Now, there are these storms inside of you and there are storms raging outside, too.”

Caleb, whose tolerance for this sort of talk was thin on good days said to Josh, “What the Hell are you talking about. I hate talking in circular riddles when plain speaking would clear things up.”

“Ok, Cal. I am not home to discern my vocation. Harry called me because he knew that storms were brewing and he knew that we would need “all hands on deck. He will be here in twenty minutes. Then there will enough plain speaking. I promise that.”

After getting reassurances from Caleb that he would not do anything rash, Josh went downstairs to wait for Harry. A maelstrom roared inside Joshua, as well. How could this have happened? How could a boy, as close to him as Harry and Caleb be taken from them and in such a brutal manner?

Harry arrived sooner than Josh had expected. Harry did not look upset in the least while Josh was just about containing his tears.

“Harry, you know what’s happened. “Geir is dead and you look as if nothing has happened. How can you be so calm?”

“I think you know how I can look so calm.”

“Yeah. I know. I try not to think about it, though.”

“Why? I am one of you now. Have been for a very long time.”

“Too true. Harry, you know that I don’t give a tinker’s damn about who you were before, you’re my brother. But Asgeir was one of us, too. And after Caleb, he was the best of us.”

“Funny how Cal is the only one who does not know that. Speaking of not knowing, does he know about Asgeir?”

“Mom and Pops asked me not to tell him, yet. He’s in a very bad place.”

“I figured. He’s not in that bad place accidentally. I’ve known that this was coming for a while, now. So did ‘Geir.”

“You did?! He did?! Why the friggin’ hell didn’t anyone tell me?!”

In the calm, almost dead-pan voice that would become his hallmark as he grew older, Harry said, “I wanted to. He wanted to. It killed us, both, to not be able to tell you. We weren’t allowed to. Higher-ups and all that.”

“Still, either one or both, of you could have, should have told me!”

“Look, Joshua, I don’t own the joint. I just work here. Just like you. I may have “other origins”, but so do you, and we all have our job to do.”

“So do I? What is that supposed to mean?”

“You see? This is why I didn’t say anything about Geir, even though I wanted to. You weren’t ready for that, nor are you ready to hear other things.” The last sentence was spoken with a serious tone, but Harry had a bit of a teasing smile on his face. It was the sort of smile that reassured Josh of Harry’s humanity and that gave Patty tingles in all the right places.

“I’ve known you my entire life. I would lie down in traffic if you asked me to, and still, I wonder who you are sometimes. I say that even knowing who you were.”

Harry said, “yeah, well….” and would speak no more on the topic.

Harry continued, “’Look, the forces that took Asgeir from us are fighting a multi-front battle. They killed Asgeir. They are trying to destroy our other little brother.”

“You know this because you still know people from the other side?”

“Yeah. Not everyone over there is totally on board with the program.”

“I’m afraid the same thing is true for people on our side.”

The two very young men looked at each other in a sort of resignation and walked slowly up the staircase to Caleb’s bedroom. Harry reached the door first and opened it without knocking. He and Josh found Caleb lying on his bed, arm thrown again over his eyes, staring at the geometry of the Universe on the inside of his closed eyelids. His breathing was barely perceptible and Harry wondered if his brother-friend was sleeping but then Caleb spoke very softly, “Harry Harrison”. Cal said, using a nickname that Arthur Smith had called Harry since he was an infant. “Josh must be worried about me to call you.”

Josh looked at Harry. These boys had been raised together. Their family’s houses were connected by tunnels under the ground and lit corridors above ground. No words need not have been said at all. All families on the island and throughout the archipelago were close. Most were related by blood. However, some people and some families were bound by something ineffable, or more so ineffable than was the usual.

Harry raised his eyebrows while he looked at Caleb. “Get up.”

Caleb ignored him.

“Get up.”

Caleb ignored him, again.

Harry considered his options. The loss of Asgeir had not had time to register. That would not happen for a while, but there was real work to do. Harry’s father and mother were with Caleb and Josh’s parents at the Joergensens. They were doing their bit and Harry’s father had impressed upon him that Harry must put grief aside for as long as possible so that the war that he feared might be coming could be dealt with. Part of dealing with it meant getting Caleb out of his frozen Hell and into the fight.

The three of them, Caleb, Josh and Harry were big. Asgeir had been small, even compared to the average. That was one reason the others felt so protective of him. Yes, they were big, but Caleb was more than big. He was bigger than Harry and Josh, but there was more. He was thick from top to bottom. Harry and Josh were heavily muscled. Their physiques were Davidian. They were sculpted. Caleb’s body looked as if the sculptor had gone to the quarry in search of granite with the quarryman asking the sculptor how much granite was needed and the sculptor answered, “How much do you have?”

Harry could more than see that Caleb was in pain. He could feel his pain. The depth of Caleb’s suffering shocked Harry and he had to stiffen his legs to keep himself from falling to the floor. Harry then knew that this attack, not only on Asgeir but on Caleb, too, went deeper than he had first thought.

Cal was lying on his bed with his feet toward the headboard. Harry walked to the foot of the bed and sat next to Cal’s head. Cal did not acknowledge him. Harry looked at Cal’s chest and his eyes went wide.

Josh saw this and asked “What is it? What do you see?”

Harry looked at Josh and shook his head to tell Josh that he could not tell him just yet.

Harry said “Caleb, I want you to sleep. I do not want you to move. For the next thirty minutes, you will sleep peacefully and your pain will dissolve into the Earth. He will take it for you for the next half an hour. Do you hear me? Do you understand me?”

“Yes” came the one word answer.

“Good. You are to sleep. You will not move. You cannot move. You got that?”

“Yes.”

“What are you doing?” asked Josh.

“Our brother has been attacked. I’m trying to find out exactly how.”

“Yeah, but we already knew that he’d been attacked. What’s different now from five minutes ago?”

“What’s different is that I can see how he was attacked. What I don’t know, yet, are the circumstances under which he was attacked.”

“You can see how? I can’t see anything special.”

“No, you can’t. You will. All things in their proper time. Now shut the fuck up for a few minutes.”

This last sentence would have sounded harsh to an observer but wasn’t said that way and was not meant that way. It was one brother talking to another in a way only brothers can.

Josh thought about punching Harry, again, in a way only a brother could, but decided that Harry getting punched when he wasn’t expecting it would be much more satisfying. It’s the way Asgeir would have wanted it. Asgeir, fucking Asgeir. Josh was pulled down again.

At this point, Caleb was out for as long as Harry needed him to be. Caleb could feel neither physical nor mental pain. He was neither here nor there. Back in the circular clearing, Asgeir sat in the perpetual darkness next to his friend, though he could still not remember who the boy lying on the ground was, exactly, when the body vanished, then came back, more substantial than before, then vanished again.

Asgeir was beside himself. He could not remember how he had gotten to this place. He did not know where or what this place was. As he looked out into the circle of trees, he strained to see something, anything, that would give him a point of reference. There was nothing. In some B horror movie there would be glowing red eyes staring back at him, but here all he could see was the outline of the treetops against a completely black sky that, at the same time, did have a glow to it. The effect felt unbalancing to Asgeir. Below the tree-line, the trees disappeared and in their place was left a cutout of trees, a vacuum, a soul-sucking empty nothingness that made Asgeir feel as if his lungs were having the air pulled from them by raptorous claws.

He was in a place that he did not understand and now the only emotional landmark, tenuous as it had been, was gone. He wanted to cry, but he reminded himself that he was no longer a child. He reminded himself that he was sixteen years old. Then he asked himself how he knew that he was sixteen. He did not know the answer to that question. He then reminded himself that under similar circumstances, older, tougher men than he might be tempted to cry. Again, he could not fathom what those circumstances might be, because he did not know what these circumstances were.

For the first time since he became conscious in this place, he rose to his feet to look around. He was still sick with fear but also filled with a strange determination to figure out what the Hell was going on.

I’m Goin’ In

Harry balled up his right hand into a tight fist and placed it on the spot where the dagger point had been touched to Cal’s chest. Having done that, Harry could see through Caleb’s eyes on the other side. On the other side, the side where Caleb had lain and was now standing, having re-materialized there, he could see his other little brother from behind staring out into the darkness looking for something that he would never find there. Harry knew that Asgeir was bewildered and lost; he knew that Caleb had been the same, if slightly less so. Harry, though, Harry was right at home. The majority of his existence had been spent in realms such as this one. They were places built, mostly, for the physical and mental torture of Holy Prisoners of War. Sometimes they were meant just as holding pens, but very unpleasant holding pens. The horrors that had been the gulags in post-revolutionary Russia had been unconsciously modeled on just such places as this.

Harry, looking acting through the spirit form of Caleb cleared his throat. Asgeir yelled and swore as he spun around, assuming a fighting stance. Asgeir had not been a fighter while on the normal Earth-plane, but here, even in the last ten minutes, something had changed. Stripped of all the expectations that had enveloped him there, he was free to begin to be more of his true self. When he saw Caleb standing there, though, he did begin crying from happiness and relief.

Asgeir ran up to Caleb and hugged him then stepped back and, for the first time, spoke, “Holy shit, I can’t believe you’re back. Oh, man, sorry that I’m crying.”

“Harry, speaking through Caleb, said, “I know you can’t remember who I am and I’m not really who I appear to be. And you’re crying because you have been through more in the last few hours than you realize. Do you even remember your own name?”

“Uh, no.”

“Ok. I didn’t think you would. For now, it’s not important. What is important is that I get the two of you out of here.”

“Why isn’t knowing who I am important? Where are we? Why do you look so familiar, yet I can’t place you? What the hell is going on?”

“I will tell you what’s going on. I will not tell you who you are, yet. Telling you that it would be a real shock to your system after what has happened is almost telling you too much.”

Asgeir took an all-too-patient breath. His head was too much a-buzz to press this any further. “How are you going to get us out us out of here and who are “the two of you?” You are one of us.”

“Alright, I’ll tell you this much, I’m not really here. You’re correct that this body is the body of a friend, but it is not my body and I am merely speaking through it to try to help him and you.”

Hearing this, odd as it was, sounded somehow right. It was as if strings stretched too deep to be consciously felt were being plucked, playing a melody more ancient and more familiar than the sound of his own breath.  Back in Caleb’s bedroom Josh sat at the desk and was facing the bed where his brother lie, deep in a concentrated sleep experiencing the first real peace he had felt in months.

Harry’s head was tilted back, his eyes were closed, and he was speaking to the air, or so it appeared to  Joshua: “I know you can’t remember who I am and I’m not really who I appear to be. And you’re crying because you have been through more in the last few hours than you realize. Do you even remember your own name?”

            Josh was not really surprised by this behavior, he had been raised on North Island, a very strange place and he had been friends with Harry for his entire life. Things that were a yawn on the island would have main-landers checking themselves into some sort of institution. He did not really know what was going on or to whom Harry was speaking, but he just sat there listening to the one-way conversation.

At this point, Josh felt a very strong compulsion to go to the kitchen to get something to eat. Though he had eaten lunch with his father only a short time ago, both Joshua and Caleb were known for their prodigious appetites. Harry could be a trencherman with the best of them, but Josh had noted long ago that Harry almost never ate. When asked if he wanted to eat, Harry would almost always say that he had either just eaten or was about to eat when he went home. Josh knew Harry’s secret. Josh knew almost everything, so why Harry kept up this part of the charade around him Josh could not figure out. On the weird scale, not eating very often was very low on the list regarding Harry, so Josh never pursued it.

“I gotta go,” said Josh and left the room. Harry could not respond but a part of him heard and understood. He knew that Josh was a nervous eater and that soon the fridge would be much lighter.

In the kitchen, Josh was attacking the refrigerator. Several pounds of cold-cuts, sliced Swiss cheese, and mayo found themselves on the dyed concrete countertop. The last of the previous night’s pot roast was already heating in the microwave and slices of his mother’s home-baked bread were being arranged on two large plates, one for hot pot roast and noodles over bread and one for three large sandwiches. Bologna, ham, pastrami, lettuce, tomatoes, and sliced onions were piled on top of the bread, covered in mayonnaise and covered with another thick, unevenly sliced piece of bread. The two plates were moved to the kitchen table, a pitcher of lemonade retrieved from the refrigerator, no glass necessary, and Josh sat down before his feast opposite the sliding glass doors that opened up on to the stone patio.

The steam from the noodles, pot roast and gravy wafted to his nose and Joshua inhaled deeply. The smell was warm and savory, and the heat of the food brought the odor of his mother’s rosemary and thyme bread into his nostrils and Joshua was at peace. At first, he thought it might be a little overkill to put noodles on top of the bread, but he put that thought out of his mind quickly. Then, a tiny voice whispered to him; “How can you eat at a time like this? Your brother is hoping he dies and you lost Asgeir today?” The answer came back, much louder than a whisper; “My brother wants to die and I lost Asgeir today. How can I not eat?” and he dug into the noodles with great gusto taking large bites of his food while looking at the sandwiches he had made waiting for him to devour them, as well.

The tastes, flavors, smells, and textures were something that was mystically transcendent for Joshua. The beef and gravy on the noodles had particular sort of saltiness, a perfect savory quality that bordered on the too much, but never crossed that border. It all ended with the experience of that first bite; the essence of the flavors, soaking into him, drenching Josh in the juices of it all. The sprites of food were conceived in his mind, were born through his eyes, and died an ecstatic death on the pyre of his tongue.

This was Joshua’s way of coping. He never seemed to put on any weight, except for muscle weight and he truly enjoyed his food, though he ate like this only when under stress or when he needed to think deeply on some matter. Caleb liked his food, too, but the enthusiasm that Joshua had for eating was unmatched by anyone else in the family. In part, it was also a celebration of life and of God’s bounty. Food had been provided by God and in Joshua’s mind, it would have been a sin to not enjoy that bounty as often as possible. Oh, he knew of the Seven Deadly Sins. He knew that gluttony was one of the sins, but he did not care. He was not a glutton, but an aficionado. He also thought that people were more gluttons of other things than food most of the time.

As he ate Josh felt his nerves calm a little. He did not like to drink alcohol, not that he had anything against it. He just did not like the way it made him feel. His parents’ liquor cabinet was stocked with the best Napoleon brandies, Armagnacs, bourbons, scotches and vodkas. He had gotten drunk once when he was fifteen and he got so sick that he vowed to never drink again. He would not take that vow regarding food. Josh was sitting and eating feeling temporarily a little better when he saw Harry outside the sliding glass doors, “Hey! Save some for the rest of us! Get your ass upstairs, I need you!”

This was a new one on Josh. This was not a yawn for him. He had not heard Harry come downstairs. He had not heard the front door open and he knew that going from the front of the house to the back meant quite a walk for the house was large. Harry was gone, and Josh dismissed the apparition as his brain’s response to outrageous stress. He put down his fork, grabbed one of his sandwiches, felt the softness of the bread as the juices from the tomato bled through it and bit into it as if it were the last sandwich ever to be made.

He had not even swallowed that bite when he saw Harry sitting opposite him at the table, “I said that I need you upstairs”, yelled Harry while grabbing the pastrami sandwich off the plate. “Come on, we have work to do.” Then Harry vanished with the sandwich.

Josh put his sandwich down, stood up and made for the stairs, thought better about leaving his sandwiches, grabbed them and ran up the stairs. He got to Caleb’s room to see that Harry was sitting just where he had been before and still having his one-way conversation with whomever it was where ever it was. The sandwich was not in his hand, but he was talking and going through the motions of eating. Josh had seen a lot, enough to harden him to almost every weird thing, but not this.

Back at the clearing, the image of Caleb was now holding a pastrami sandwich and the juices were dripping down his arm as he ate. Asgeir said, “That smells good. What is that you’re eating?”

“It’s called a pastrami sandwich. It’s supposed to be on rye bread but Mary’s rosemary-thyme bread seems just as good and leave it to Josh to make a “bull-choking” sandwich.”

Asgeir, forgetting his circumstances for a second asked, “Can I have some? I have not eaten in, well, I don’t remember how long.”

“No way, little brother. This work of art is mine, but when the Chief comes for you, I’ll see to it that he brings you a basket-full.”

Asgeir was very disappointed and did not try to hide it. Harry saw the look on Asgeir’s and realized that he’d made a selfish mistake. “I’m sorry, little brother. I should not have been a dick.”

He walked over to his brother and gave him the rest of the sandwich which was most of it, really. Asgeir hugged Caleb and happily took the sandwich, eating with a lust he did not know he possessed.

While eating, Asgeir could feel some his of strength returning, some of his fear diminishing. Harry, continuing to speak through the body of Caleb, said, “I do not want you to remember who you were. Not yet. I want you to remember who you are” said Harry.

“Who am I?” Asgeir said wiping sandwich juice from his face.

“You are a powerful angel.”

“Oh, good. I thought you were going to say something crazy.” Asgeir said through a mouth full of pastrami.

“You haven’t begun to hear crazy, yet.”

Asgeir swallowed, took another bite, saying, “Great.”

As this exchange was taking place, a slow transformation was coming over Asgeir Joergensen. Subconsciously, the Angel Asgeir was bubbling to the surface. The bubbles were not tiny bubbles, either. They were harsh, raspy bubbles with knives on their edges, cutting to shreds the Asgeir of Earth. The Asgeir of Earth still existed in other probabilities and his existence would always be informed by the Angel Asgeir, but the Asgeir of Earth had bigger things to do and he was surfacing to do it.

“It is great”, Harry continued. “You don’t know who you were nor who you are, really, but you will.”

Harry surveyed the scene before him. His eyes being created to see in environments such as this could see that bad people were gathering on the edge of the clearing, waiting for Harry to leave so that they could attack. As powerful and bad as these people were, not one of them, nor the group as a whole, was dumb enough to step any further than the edge of the woods with Harry Martin anywhere near. He saw the people and he laughed a little to himself. He had converted long ago, yet his reputation seemed to be intact in Hellish realms like this. He looked through the eyes of Caleb yet, the creatures surrounding him and Asgeir saw with special eyes, too, and they knew well who was behind Caleb’s eyes.

Harry also knew that there was nothing that he could do about Caleb’s predicament at the moment. Powerful as he was, there were laws and rules, and even Harry Martin could not go against the laws that God had sewn into the garment of Creation. Caleb would be ok for the time being. The weirdos here would know enough to leave him alone, and besides, they needed a hostage, even if that hostage was a fragment of someone’s soul.

Harry could see the small changes in Asgeir were becoming more evident and he knew it was time to leave.

“Hello? Hello? Wake up, I’m still confused!” yelled Asgeir of Earth as he slowly transformed into Asgeir the Angel, stirring Harry from his thoughts.

“Yeah. Yeah. Ok. I have to go now. Your name in every world is Asgeir. You are a Spear of God and you are a bad-ass. It is safe for me to leave you now. Don’t kill too many of them at once, it just makes them want revenge when they come back.”

“What are you talking about?! Don’t leave me! I still don’t understand anything you’re talking about!”

“Sorry, boyo. I’ve got to scram. You’ll be fine. See you at the next Council Meeting.” Caleb’s body slumped to the floor of the clearing and Harry was gone.

Asgeir, while wondering what had just happened and what anything the voice coming from the familiar body said really meant, did not have much time to contemplate his confusion. The bad people who had been gathering at the edge of the clearing wasted no time in charging Asgeir when they saw that Harry had left the scene.

The first of the bad people to reach Asgeir was a demon on two legs with small, sawed off arms and slimy skin. The thing got to within six feet of Asgeir, leaped toward him, grabbed the remains of Asgeir’s sandwich in its teeth, running off into the dark to devour its prize. This greatly upset Asgeir and, as he turned to face the direction in which the beast had run, wings, sheets of flame, unfurled from his back, slicing into three parts the next monster to attack him. Asgeir did not notice. He wanted to get the thing that had stolen his food. The smell of the bread had reminded him of home, though he did not know where or what home was.

He ran after the thieving beast and, when he saw that the food was gone, flew into a rage, killing the foul creature with one swipe of his now Angelic arm. Other beasts, demons, deformed human-like creatures and even beings who were formless blobs of hate and fear washed over the new Angel trying to tear pieces from him. Mistake. Very big mistake. Angel Asgeir turned, in his rage, to the hoard, a spear now in his hand, and cut them down as they poured at him. He stabbed the spear into the floor of the forest clearing and a pulse of light radiated out from it in a circular fashion, killing everything in its path, flattening the forest for as far as even angelic eyes could see. He remembered his friend’s words to not kill all of them, but one of them had stolen his sandwich and that could not be tolerated. They all had to go and so they went.

Asgeir, Angel though he was, was a little tired from the battle and his transformation and knew what he needed; food. Sandwiches like the one stolen would do the trick. As he finished the thought, a figure walked out of the gloom holding a picnic basket over-flowing with carefully wrapped sandwiches. The figure wore traditional Sioux clothing but something about his attire didn’t quite match. In a thick Brooklyn accent, the man, said, “Killed ’em all, heh? Well, that’s alright. These babies”, pointing to the contents of the basket, “are worth fighting and killing over. By the way, you left these went you went on your mission” said the Chief holding out his free hand. Asgeir looked at the Chief’s open palm and in it was a pair of black headphones.

Now that Asgeir’s transformation was completed all his memories came back in a great tide. He knew both who he had been and who he now was. He knew the man who stood before him and the man who was still lying on the forest floor a few feet away. Last, he knew what had happened to him, that he and his compatriots were in the middle of a war and that victory was far from assured.

“Ok, kiddo, time to put those things away. We have company coming” said the Chief with a genuinely happy smile.

Asgeir knew just what this meant and his sheet-of-fire wings disappeared into his back and he was transformed again, this time into a Plains Indian warrior. From the blackness that still enveloped this world more figures emerged, but this time they were not Hellish stinking demons, but rather members of Asgeir’s own band of men, fighters all. They did not come empty-handed, either. Some were carrying large coolers between themselves and another man. Some were carrying large baskets, like the one the Chief had now set on the ground. Some had large haunches of meat slung over their shoulders, impaled upon spits, ready to be roasted over the large, open fires that had just that second appeared from nowhere.

When the men were fully gathered in the firelight, the Chief put up his hand for quiet. This time there was no joking. “Gentlemen, we are almost complete!” and the band erupted in hollering and yelling. This was going to be a feast for the ages.

Good Lord, I Feel Like I’m Dying

            Harry pulled his fist away from Caleb’s chest. He was still looking up to the ceiling, eyes closed, breathing quietly, reeling himself back in on his own spool. Josh opened the door, saw what was going on and quietly walked over to the chair, sat down and observed the scene.

As Josh watched, Harry let his chin fall to his chest. He remained this way for a few seconds before taking a deep breath, gasping inwards. Harry stood, turned to look at Caleb’s still sleeping body and brought his fist down with tremendous force on the spot where it had just been resting. On the other side, at the clearing, the band of warriors had already taken Caleb to the center of the temporary camp where he lie with his head on a rolled-up buckskin. Caleb’s soul-form became enveloped in a translucent green light and began to float a few inches above the ground and stayed that way.

The Chief, seeing this, turned to Warrior Asgeir and said: “Looks like Harry is having some fun with us!”

“Indeed”, said Asgeir. “And seeing to it that our brother, here, remains safe, no matter what.”

Back in Caleb’s room, Joshua sat and Harry stood after punching Caleb in the chest, all was quiet. Caleb had a large bruise forming on his chest, yet he was breathing softly and looked peaceful in his induced slumber.

“Harry, before you go on, I need to know a few things,” Joshua said as Harry stood ready to wake Cal.

Harry smiled at his friend. He knew these questions would come one day and today was that day. Harry turned his chair toward Josh. “What is it that you want to know?”

“My questions, even after all I’ve seen with  you, Asgeir and Caleb, may seem a little crazy, but here goes.”

Harry just smiled at Josh. He knew that Josh may have seen a lot of things with him, but that he had not even begun to see crazy, yet.

“Ok. We’ve been friends since we were born, really. I’m weird, your weird, hell, the whole archipelago is weird. But even so, there’s something weirder about us, you, me, Cal and Asgeir, than other people around here. Look me in the eye and tell me you are who my parents, your parents and you say you really are, you know, under the hood.”

Harry chuckled a little, then got very serious and said to Josh, “Ok, look at me. I mean look me directly in my eyes.”

If the Invisible Man had been in that room he would have seen two very young men staring at each other, almost blankly. Harry’s eyes did not change in any way. He did not turn his head three-hundred-sixty degrees and vomit pea soup. Josh did not throw holy water on him. From the outside, it was very boring. On the inside, though, it was a different story. Josh was getting a small taste of what Harry was, what Caleb dealt with every day. Josh felt hot and as if might freeze to death at the same time. He could feel himself being pulled up into a black infinity while simultaneously falling forever, pulled apart and crushed. Oh, and the loneliness! He was surrounded by thousands, millions of “things” that would devour him and the worst was that hideous monster of loneliness. The loneliness could desiccate him and drown him at the same time. Then, it was over and Josh was back to himself.

Harry spoke first. “That’s just a little bit of me. I threw in a touch of what Cal feels all the time just for kicks so that you can understand him better.”

Josh was slow to respond, but when he did, he said “You’re doing that to Caleb? What the hell is wrong with you?”

“I am not doing that to Caleb. Beings like me, like who I was, are doing that to him.”

“Well, you’ve got to stop them, man. This can’t go on! I thought I was going to die! I sure as hell wanted to!”

“I can’t stop them. If I could have I would have a long time ago. I can tell you why he goes through what he does and why you’re his brother here.”

“Ok. Tell me.”

“The Reader’s Digest version is this; Cal is suffering, needs to suffer because he is learning and growing. He is very special for reasons I can’t tell you right now.”

Josh looked at Harry for a moment, thought about responding to what he’d just said, decided to let it pass, then asked: “And why am I his brother…. here?”

“You’re his brother here because you’re special, too. Your job is different. You’re different. Special, but different.”

Josh was silent for a full minute, which is an eternity, before saying “Ok. Enough for today. What about Caleb? Can you wake him?”

Harry turned to look at Caleb then he spoke.

“Cal, old man, when I tell you to open your eyes, you will first do a few things. You are going to put this experience away. You are going to build a barrier around it, seal it off, and forget about it. You will forget about what happened here, today, you will forget, as best you can your sadness. You will remember one thing; our little brother was killed today, and you are the man who will find out who did this and why. You understand me?”

“I understand”, came the almost-too-quiet-to-hear reply.

“Ok, open your eyes.”

Cal’s gemstone-green eyes opened, and his face went from peaceful to a stony mask that he would wear for some years to come. He sat up, swung his legs over the side of the bed, looked at Josh and Harry.

“What are you fuckers still doing here?” Cal said with a little more nasty in his voice than he really intended.

Josh looked at Cal with one eyebrow raised and went back to assaulting his remaining sandwiches. Harry smiled at Cal and then his phone rang in his pocket. It was his father, still at the Jorgensen home. Harry stepped out of the room to speak to his father. He had no secrets regarding Caleb and Joshua, none that would not be revealed in time, anyway, but given Cal’s finely balanced state, thought better of saying anything upsetting in front of him.

“Son, we are going to be here all night. Cal and Josh’s parents will stay here with us; the Asgeir’s parents are too fragile to be left alone. Most of the parents on the island will be here soon. They’ll be spilling over into our house and the Smiths’ house, as well.”

“Ok, dad. What about the bonfire tonight? I assume that it’s been canceled or will be.”

“Yeah, that’s off, but we are going to have all the kids in the school, kindergarten to twelfth grade over to the three houses and there will be a bonfire in the backyards with food and prayers for the Joergensens. This is a time for coming together not isolating ourselves.”

“Ok, dad, Josh and I are still tending to Cal.”

“Have you told him, yet?”

“No. I will when I hang up.”

“Mary told me that he’s pretty bad. Please be careful with him. He’s been on the edge since he was a boy.”

“Yeah. I did a few things. I think he’ll come through this.”

“A few things, huh? Harrison, I don’t understand so much about you. There’s so much I want to tell you, but it all boils down to how proud I am of you and how much I love you.”

“I love you, too, dad. I’ll let you know how it goes.”

“Do that. Out.”

Harry returned to Cal’s room where Josh and Cal were talking about how Cal was feeling, “Josh, I am not all here. I can feel it. Something is off, missing, gone.”

Before Josh could answer Harry cut in, “There is a piece of you missing. I know that you don’t believe in anything that you can’t see or measure…”

Cal looked up at Harry, then over to Josh, “You are damn right I don’t. You put any stock in hocus-pocus, including, Christianity and you are going to get your head handed to you by a supposedly loving God. It is all bullshit. All of it.”

“All of it, I know. It’s all bullshit, from top to bottom, back to front. Except that it’s not. I was not always human. Neither were you two, for that matter, nor anyone else on this grain of sand, but that’s for another time.”

“My bullshit meter is going to explode.”

“BOOM!” Harry said, laughing and gesturing.

At this, Josh laughed, as well, and said, “Cal, I’ve seen some of it. I have seen some of what Harry is talking about. That’s also why I originally wanted to be a priest so I could be a part of the Mystery of Creation.”

“Yeah, making cookies that have God in them and all that crap.”

“No. Not making cookies that have God in them. Making cookies that are God, to put it as crassly as you did. Confecting the Eucharist is the proper term for it. And it’s not bullshit. Your meter is off.”

“My meter is gone “BOOM!” Cal said, looking at Harry with a faint smile which faded quickly.  “Skip it for now. So. Something is going on. What is it?” asked Cal.

Josh went to Cal’s bed, sat next to him, but looked straight ahead toward the desk he had been sitting at.  “Cal, Asgeir was found on the beach, near where the bonfire usually is. He was dead. He was more than dead, he had been mutilated as if he’d been torn apart by animals.”

Caleb did not respond. He put the heels of his hands to his eyes and rubbed them slowly.

With great effort Cal managed to get out, “But I saw him today at the swimming hole. He was having fun. He was with his girl. I don’t believe you.”

Harry said, “Look, no one knows how it happened, but it has happened. I saw the beach where it happened. Looked like someone dumped a gallon of red paint on the sand. Not pretty. Under normal circumstances, I would be able to “see through the veil” and know exactly what’s going on…”

“Bullshit” Caleb interrupted.

“Not bullshit. It’s who I am. Do you really know who I am, Cal?”

Caleb’s eyes glazed over, and, in a low voice, Cal said “Here, you are Harry Martin, my brother in more than just name. There, you are Lightning, Dean of Demons, second only to Satan himself, and sometimes more than Satan. You are a being shot through with evil who has turned towards the Light of He Who has saved us all. You are Harry Martin, my brother.”

Then, Cal came back to himself, saying, “I know who you are. You are full of shit. If you can usually see through this veil, why can’t  you see now?”

Harry and Josh pretended to ignore what they had just seen and heard but exchanged surprised glances, “I don’t know why I can’t see over there right now. There are some big things brewing. Bigger than I have ever experienced, and I have seen a few things.”

Josh said, “Look, Cal, as hard as it is to digest, Asgeir was killed today. Almost no one knows about it, yet. The only reason we know is because his parents called our parents and told them. That was only natural. Harry is “different”. You’ve known that since we were kids. Don’t go playing dumb now because you don’t like the implications of who he might be.”

“I am sorry, Old Man,” Cal said, using Harry’s nickname for Cal on Harry, himself. “I would say that I didn’t mean to be a dick, but I did mean it. I should not have meant it, though. I cannot tell you how the pain I am in now.”

Josh answered, “Look, Neither one of us can pretend to understand what you’re going through so I won’t insult you by pretending to. Same for Hellboy, here. But there is more to the world than you can know. Pops is always telling you the same..”

“Yeah. He just said that an hour, or so, ago.”

“Yeah. I bet. Pops is a good combination of being “here and there.””

Harry cut in, “Cal you can choose to believe this or not. I am “different”. You know that even if you don’t believe in the “whys” of my difference. I am what I am regardless of your belief.”

As he said this, a large pastrami on rye appeared in his right hand. Harry looked at Cal, then Josh. He stood and without a word, left the room to eat his sandwich.

On an island of anomalous people, Caleb Smith was an anomaly, even with Harry in the room. He lived in a town where sex was free and easy within certain constraints, yet he did not live that life. He lived in a town where supernatural events happened with all the natural inevitability of tomorrow’s sunrise, yet he walled those events off from himself. He lived in a town that often had its own weather; Winter days during Summer; Autumn days during Springtime; this he ignored, as well. But when one of his closest allies created a sandwich from seemingly nothing, this he could not ignore.

Cal rose to his feet. The floorboards creaked a little under his weight and he looked at Josh. “I’m really hungry. You?”

“Yeah. A bit peckish. Only had two sandwiches and some noodles and I need to do some thinking.”

“Looks like Harry’s Diner is closed. Anything left in the house?”
“Do you like left-over crumbs and dried gravy on a plate?”

“I thought so. Let’s go to the Black Hole and eat ourselves stupid.”

“I’m pretty dopey already”, Josh said.

“Amen, brother. Besides, I can’t stay here right now. I need air. I need to see where Asgeir was killed. God, that sounds weird to hear come out of my mouth.”

“I get that. How do you feel, Cal?”

“Like a bucket of warm piss. It’s either eat or end it all and right now I want some mashed with gravy.”

“Amen and Amen.”

As Caleb was pulling on his jeans, he said to Josh, “You’ll have to tell me if what I dreamt is real. And, is Asgeir really gone?”

“He is,” Josh said shaking his head in disbelief.

Cal said nothing to this not-so-new news, though snippets of what he had experienced in the clearing on the “other side” flashed in his mind.

“I’m going to kill the mother fucker and eat his heart for dinner.”

“Who?”

“Whoever it was killed our brother.”

“Yeah.”

Asgeir Joergensen had been a light to the world. Now that light had been snuffed out. At that moment, Cal knew. He knew what he was going to do with his life. He was going to find out who or what had killed Asgeir Joergensen.

Copyright 2018 by Andrew Payne