CHAPTER FIVE
How odd the girl's life looks
behind this soft eclipse!
I think that earth seems so
to those in heaven now.
She hit the ground screaming. The shock of a loud sound leaving her mouth startled her so badly she screamed again. She rolled over and gasped.
Rocks flew as she staggered to her feet, clutching her cloak as if it could help her up. She mindlessly struck out in all directions. Her phone! Call for help. Her bag was gone. What an idiot. There's no reception in the Labyrinth, or wherever she was, anyway.
"Fisk!" She knew it. She knew one day he'd try something. She stumbled over a rock.
Run the monster gauntlet.
Burlie froze.
Be careful.
Don't make any noise.
Monsters.
There are monsters in here.
Be quiet.
That bastard witch. She looked wildly around. No monsters here. Not yet. Where was she?
She was on the shore of Linger Lake. She could smell the water and hear its ripples. She could even hear the muted buzz of late-season crickets and cicadas. Cool mist danced across the surface of the water. Underneath her feet were smooth pebbles. Grasses gently waved in the wind. The surrounding trees were ablaze with red and gold. Above them the brilliant, countless stars were dimmed only by a moon so full and near she felt she could reach up and write her name in silver moon dust.
Burlie's wide eyes took it all in.
This was the way Souls by the Sea should look. It was beyond what it should look. She felt a sense of immensity.
This was a dream? "But it feels real," she said, and covered her mouth in shock. "Feels real," she said again. And then she said, "Hellooo, it's real." She said, "Real," and her voice was clear and smooth. A little deep. "Hi," she said and she said, "Hi, my name is..." She drew in a ragged gasp and said "Burlington McLuh..."
Her heart broke open. She hid her face in her cloak.
Of course she had a voice again. Her body was out there, staring, slack-jawed, down at a Halloween Village made of balsa wood, paint, and glue. But in here...
A dream, he'd said.
She used to fly in her dreams. She emerged and gave it a try, thrusting out her hands.
She jumped up...
...and gravity brought her right down again.
Oh, yeah. "This is Fisk's dream, too, isn't it?" she said.
She said.
Here was actual ground under her feet, wind in her hair, green algae clinging to the reeds in the shallows. There was a hootling honk over her head. She looked up to see a phalanx of Canadian geese flying past, their bodies black against the roundness of the moon. Golden leaves skittered past her feet with a sweet, dry rustle. And someone, somewhere, was burning them. Oh, that beautiful, perfect smell.
Could this possibly be her mind? It was too lovely to belong to her or that bastard Fisk.
And her body...the aches were gone. She gave another experimental jump. The brittle-bone weariness had disappeared. She felt a deep, gasping relief, as if she'd been choking and could suddenly breathe again. In her actual dreams there wasn't so much relief. There wasn't much of anything.
This was amazing.
"Talk about," she said, she said, she said, "Talk about gilded cages."
"Hello?" a man answered.
Burlie shrieked and spun around. The two men standing there also shouted and flinched. It was hilarious. "Sorry!" she shouted at them. They stared at her, pop-eyed with amazement. Burlie laughed at their reaction, she couldn't help it. She laughed? She laughed and it wasn't a wheezing gasp. "Sorry," she said again.
"Aw, that's all right," the shorter man said and they all took a moment to calm down.
Burlie was facing two sportsmen, one big and one small, but otherwise just alike with broad, pleasant faces. Brothers, obviously. And not monsters. They were dressed comfortably in plaid and the shorter one wore a cloth baseball cap covered with metal lures and tied flies. They both had cane poles in their right hands as if they were a couple of Shakespearean spear carriers. An enormous wooden tackle-box and a crackling campfire were behind them. "Doing some night fishing?" she asked. How had she not noticed them or the fire? Well, she was a little distracted.
"Some night sitting, for sure. But where in the world did you come from?" the shorter man asked.
The big man whispered down to him, "Randy, what is she wearing?"
"Shut up."
"She must be cold."
"Shut up, Ruddy."
Who were they? Burlie didn't remember seeing any minute fishermen around the lake mirror. She struggled to answer Randy's question. "I came from Bathatch Castle," she pointed at the stars. "The real one out there. A witch..."
"The real one out there?" Ruddy interrupted. "No, Bathatch is over there on the seashore." He pointed over his shoulder. "See, you go 'round the lake loop 'til you get to the East road..."
"Ruddy," his brother said while shooting an apologetic look at Burlie.
"She can't go there because the Batt family's at the carnival giving away ribbons. The castle is closed and the gates are shut and there's dogs and..."
"See, when he gets going he has to get it all out of his system before he'll stop. Like a wind-up mouse scooting along the floor," Randy said.
"I have an aunt like that," Burlie said and cleared her throat out of habit. "But she's always going on and on about horrible things. Always bleeding from the heart. Daddy's other sister, Flannery. We call her Aunt Flo." Who cares, you babbling idiot? She shook her head in apology.
Randy smiled kindly. "You feeling all right? You look spooked."
"I feel fine," Burlie said. "I feel fine?" She looked up at the stars again and took stock. "Yes," she decided. She felt fine. She felt awake. Awake for the first time in months. "I'm just a little upset right now."
"Upset?" Randy said. "Well, we'll fix it," he promised.
"Listen to me, you two," Ruddy interrupted her Knight in Shining Armor and Randy gave the big man a dirty look. Ruddy didn't notice. "If she's lost she needs to know exactly where she is," Ruddy said, frowning.
"No. No, she doesn't," his brother said, firmly.
Burlie focused on her problem. "I'm not lost. I need to get to Bathatch right now. My family's there. A witch is..."
"I told you, Bathatch is shut." Ruddy turned his eyes to heaven as if to pray for the fools surrounding him. "You won't get anywhere near it. Old Lady Maxima has that place locked down, especially while the carnival is going on and the family's out."
"Well, it was nice meeting ya'll," Burlie said. "But I really have to go." She turned towards the loop and the road heading East.
"Hang on, we haven't actually met yet," Randy put his pole down and followed after.
Burlie didn't stop. "I'm sorry, I have to get to the castle."
"We have a truck."
Burlie stopped and whipped around. "My name is Burlington McLauren."
"Randall and Rudyard Bliss, hello," Randy held out his hand and Burlie shook it. "A witch at the castle? That would be Maxima, all right."
Bliss? Lovely name. Burlie shook her head. "It's a man. His name's Fisk Iping. He's after my aunt's money." A surge of anger and frustration washed through her and she gasped from the rawness of it. "She doesn't even have that much! She spent most of her royalties on her house. She's spending the rest on us. She's constantly working." Now Burlie had guilt. It was staggering.
"You sure you're all right?"
What a nice man Randy was! She burst into tears.
Randy threw an arm around her. "Don't, now. Everything will be just fine."
Burlie fanned her face with her hand to indicate she was just a little emotional. As if they couldn't tell.
"Are you two even listening to me? This is important," Ruddy said.
A loud bubbling sound disturbed the night. Randy dropped his arm and they turned to the lake. A wave of water broke over the bank and sloshed around their fee
t. It was cold and Burlie ran out of it. The campfire washed out, leaving them in moonlight.
The lake's surface vibrated and roiled.
Burlie watched with amazement as a green arch, thick as a marble pillar, rose from the water, glistening.
One end freed itself and a blunt head full of sharp, near transparent teeth rose, twisted, dripping, up and towards the beach on a neck the length of a tall pine. It had a rattlesnake's eyes and they were as big as hubcaps. One was green, the other was blue. They both reflected the moonlight.
"Serpent! Serpent!" Burlie said. "There's no pleasing them!" She laughed again and Fisk's sea monster hissed, a deep, deadly sound cut through by the sudden high screams on the shore.
Burlie was just as fast as the brothers who were practically flying away. The monster threw its head back and roared after them. "Truck!" shouted Randy. "Get to the truck! No, this way!" Randy grabbed Burlie who was tearing off to where her aunt's house wasn't.
There was the truck parked near a small lake access. Take a bolt and half a board. Put 'em together and you gotta Ford, as Burlie's granddaddy would say. This old thing was no Ford, it looked like a wooden china hutch on wheels. "Old. It's old. Nineteen eighteen?" Burlie mumbled as the three threw themselves into the cab. Burlie had an impression of no room and levers the size of crowbars. Then Ruddy nearly strangled her as he sat on her cloak.
He was astounded. "What was that? Did you see that? What's that thing doing here? How did it get here? Here?"
"Witch, you said?" Randy asked quietly as he threw the truck into gear.
"Witch," Burlie answered and her head snapped back as Randy hit the gas.
"One hell of a strong witch."
Ruddy was babbling. "The head just came out of the water. And the teeth and then..."
"We were there, Ruddy, we saw it," Randy said and turned the wheel hard, hugging the loop. "And it's after us," he said as he shot a look behind him. "Ho, my lord."
Burlie looked back. Up and down, the green loops of the serpent dove in and out of the water, splashing the road, as it paced the truck around the lake. "The docks." She clutched the back of the seat. "It won't be able to get past."
Wooden planks, rowboats, and comfy chairs went flying as the thing churned through the water.
Burlie faced front. "Nevermind."
Randy groaned. "We're coming up on the houseboats," he said.
Burlie said, "Houseboats? They're against the rules." Linger Lake, for all the independent characters circling it, had established rules. No motors, no houseboats, no emptying grill ash into the water, no littering, no loud dock-parties, no intensely bright lights, no live carp, no giant sea monsters...
"What rules?" Randy asked.
"Cut through there," Burlie pointed at a gap between an enormous oak and an ugly cluster of tin sheds. (Also against the rules.) Randy heaved on the wheel and the truck spun onto the grass. It barreled up the hill, clipped a shed, and came out onto the East road at last. The creature leapt out of the water after them. It landed hard, sprawling full length onto the ground. It writhed and twisted like an eel, its jaws gaping, until it managed to flop back where it belonged with another mighty splash. It resurfaced and shrieked.
Burlie stared at the one blue eye and one green eye that was glaring at her from on high. She was aware, peripherally, of the cottages blazing with lights and rushed movement around them. Ruddy was groaning. "That thing's gonna wreck it all! What'll it do to the fish? God! Randy!" Ruddy turned to his brother. "The fish."
The monster reared back, dove, and disappeared with a flick of its finned tail. Out of reach, Randy slowed and braked. The three stared back at the ripples. Burlie knew full well the thing was still there, lurking just under the water like a stalking alligator.
"It's not just that," Burlie warned them. "Fisk put figures of other monsters in here."
Randy reached out and tapped Burlie on the knee."Get out."
Burlie turned, so slowly her vertebrae creaked, and looked at him. "What did you say?" she managed to ask.
He shrank back. "I don't mean it like that! I mean Ruddy's right. That thing's gonna tear the lake apart." He turned off the engine. "I think. I really don't know what it can do. Or what we can do." A blurt of laughter escaped him but he choked it back with a snort. "We have to go back. And you have to go on because I think it's after you."
"They're all after me," Burlie agreed and a deep part of her whined yiiiiiiikes.
Randy went on. "I'm going to the post office to phone the Sheriff. He'll believe me. Get on the road and see if you can hitch a ride to the carnival. Try to get to the City Council, they'll be greasing up the bandstand. They'll help."
"Hitchhike? That's dangerous."
The sea serpent resurfaced and roared at the truck with frustration. The glass vibrated. A shriek, a human one, was heard over the water.
"I'll do my best," Burlie whispered, by choice this time.
"This is a problem," Randy said with wonder in his voice. "I don't believe this." He sounded another small snort of laughter.
Burlie silently forgave him and crawled over the large brother and out, much like Lydia had crawled over her an hour earlier. She yanked her cloak from under Ruddy. "Head for the houseboats first," she said. "They need to be warned."
Randy nodded.
Ruddy was upset. "My pole is brand new. And we left it on the shore with my tackle-box. You think that wave got 'em?" he asked. "It took me a year to make that box."
"The bandstand," Randy called, starting the motor again.
"What witch?" Ruddy suddenly wanted to know.
"Bandstand," Burlie agreed and struck out into the dark.