Chorus of Dust Read online

  Lanston went on to explain how Grandaddy had been saving up for some time and offered him a substantial amount of cash to come back with them to the farm. They were hoping that he could help them find a way to get rid of the demon, or at the very least to somehow untie their family from it. The professor didn’t believe anything they told him, of course, but he couldn’t pass up such a great research opportunity. Plus, he needed the money, so he agreed. In the days after that, he learned from Grandaddy about the curse, about his son and those that the shadow had taken before him. He researched the history of the farm, how the church had given it to my great-great-grandfather decades before, and how that act led to its destruction. Though he didn’t realize it at the time, Lanston said that he later understood that ownership of the land is what binds one to the demon. The church had suffered its own loss because of that land, which was why they were so eager to get rid of it. What they didn’t understand was that severing ties with the demon is impossible. Everyone who had tried before met its full wrath, and the church was no exception.

  “And I suppose the same thing goes for the Comeaux family as well,” I said.

  “I believe so, yes. That’s why you can’t simply sell the land and move away, Adem. It would mean certain death, not only for you, but also for your sister and anyone else in your family.”

  I considered everything Lanston told me, running through it again and again in my mind. All the while, I knew I was avoiding the question I really wanted to ask, the question that only this man could answer. I could avoid it no longer.

  “Lanston, what happened to my parents? What really happened?”

  The professor leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes with a sigh. “Three nights after I arrived at Sid’s farm, I awoke in the middle of the night to the sounds of screaming and gunfire. I jumped out of bed and ran out into the back yard, and I could see your father wading through the cotton bolls as fast as he could. Sid was close behind him, stopping occasionally to fire his hunting rifle. The whole scene felt so surreal, like it was lifted out of a dream. My eyes adjusted, and farther out in the field, I saw your mother. You’ll think I’m crazy for saying this, but she was hovering in the air. Floating, with her arms outstretched to either side, and perfectly still like she was in some kind of trance. Darkness surrounded her. No, not just darkness. A black void, absent of any sort of light, enveloped her inside of it. It drew her into itself. And that’s when I realized what I was looking at.”

  “The demon.”

  “Yes, the demon. My world changed in that moment, Adem. Up to that point, everything I knew, all of the knowledge that I’d devoted my adult life to collecting, was purely academic. It was like studying music theory for years without ever hearing a single song. In that moment, I heard. I finally picked up an instrument and began to play. Nothing was the same after that.” He paused for a beat and shook his head. “Your mother was beautiful in that instant, terrible as it was. I’ll always remember her like that. But then she was gone, disappearing behind the veil of the shadow. When your father finally reached her, the shadow had vanished, and only her lifeless, tattered body remained.”

  I waved my hands out in front of me. “Wait professor, stop for just a second. I don’t mean to call you a liar, but my parents were killed in a car accident. It’s documented, I’ve looked at the police report. That doesn’t exactly jive with what you’re telling me.”

  “Your father was overtaken with grief when the demon took her,” Lanston said. “He went out of his mind. I remember watching him pick up your mother and carry her through the fields back to the house. Sid followed behind them, but he seemed to be in his own kind of daze. Without saying anything, your father placed her body in the passenger’s side of their car and then got behind the wheel and sped away. If you say he died in a car wreck, I can’t argue with you, but that was the last I ever saw of him. I left that very night to return to Baton Rouge, and I swore I would never come back to this god-forsaken town again.”

  I suddenly remembered the dream I’d had the night before, of my father driving with my mother’s body in the seat next to him, and how he purposefully swerved into the oncoming lane. “Ahh Christ,” I said. In that instance, everything made sense.

  “I’m sorry, son,” Lanston said as he reached over and placed a hand on my shoulder. “I wish you didn’t have to hear all this from me.”

  I looked up at the ceiling, powerless to squeeze back the tears. “Why didn’t Grandaddy ever tell us any of this?”

  “He wanted to, but you were gone. When he came to see me that second time twenty-five years later—when I finally realized what a good friend he was—he told me what happened when you left. You should know that he regretted how he treated you, all the way up until the last day of his life. He also feared for you, and for Sam. He figured that as long as he alone owned the land, no harm would come to the two of you. After all, the demon had already taken his sacrifice, and also his son’s. But now he’s gone, and the land is yours. The shadow has returned, son, and it sounds like it means to take your sister.”

  “No,” I said, and stood up. “No, fuck that. This thing, whatever it is, it isn’t taking her too. How do I stop it?”

  Lanston shook his head. “You can’t stop it. It has made its decision.”

  “Yeah? Well its going to un-make it.” I started toward the door, but as I passed Lanston he reached an arm out to stop me. I paused and looked back at him.

  “Adem, I’ve devoted my entire career to the study of religion, and I’m sure you’ll believe me when I tell you that I’ve taken a particular interest in this area. If there were a way to stop this thing, I would know of it. There isn’t. You can no more get rid of it than you can get rid of the land itself. It is a part of the land, and a part of you. If it wants your sister, it will eventually have her one way or another.”

  “And what am I supposed to do, professor? Do I stand back and wait for it to happen, is that what you expect? Because I can tell you right now, I’ve been hiding for ten years, running away from everything dearest to me. I’m not going to run any longer.”

  “Then consider this,” Lanston said. “If the demon lusts for the blood of your family, perhaps there is another who can pay that price.”

  I stared down into his eyes. “You mean...”

  “I don’t mean anything. You do with it what you will. I’m sorry I couldn’t help you more. Best of luck to you, Adem.” He lifted a hand up to me, and this time I shook it.

  “You too, professor.” I walked out the front door of the store toward my car. I again looked at the small alley up the street where the old man from earlier disappeared and thought about what he’d said. Yo’ blood gon’ be spilled, son. Ain’t nothin’ you c’n do now t’ change that. I let the weight of that statement cover me, wrapping its warmth around me like a baby wrapped in swaddling clothes. My blood would indeed be spilled. My blood, not hers. For the first time in years, I knew what I had to do.

  THE CHORUS

  There is a place that still remains.

  It eats the fear, it eats the pain.

  The sweetest price he’ll have to pay,

  The day the whole world went away.

  —Nine Inch Nails

  Darkness crept across the sky, blotting out the last desperate fingers of light reaching up over the horizon. The moon had only barely risen over the trees, hovering just out of their reach. It had grown larger over each of the last few nights, and now it was entirely full.

  A Hunter’s Moon.

  I smiled as I sat there at the kitchen table, waiting for the chorus to begin. An old story came to my mind, one that Grandaddy once told Sam and me when we had trouble falling asleep.

  “The moon wasn’t always alone, you know,” he would tell us. “Once, ages ago, he had himself a wife. The moon was named Lune, and his wife Lalin. The sun went by the same name he has today—”

  “Sol!” Sam cut in.

  “That’s right, Sol. Some might tell you nowaday
s that the sun and the moon are married, but just look at ‘em! They barely even see each other! Now what kind of a marriage is that?” Sam would giggle, her pink pajama-clad arms poking out from beneath the covers, while I rolled my eyes.

  “No, truth be told, Sol and Lune don’t like each other very much at all, and for good reason. You see, Lalin was just as bright and spectacular as her husband, maybe even more so. They loved each other very much, and every night when Sol went away, they would dance with each other across the sky. Their radiance lit up the darkness, and their joy filled the earth.

  “Now Sol, every once in a while before he would turn in for the night or just before he got back up in the morning, he’d get a peek at those two hootin’ and hollerin’ up there. He’d watch ‘em dance, and he was sore jealous. ‘Why does Lune get someone to dance with while I’m stuck up here all by myself?’ he’d say. The years went on; centuries, millennia, and every night, Sol’s hatred of Lune and Lalin would grow a little deeper. Finally, he decided that something had to be done. He came up with a plan to separate them forever.

  “One day, Sol raced across the sky as fast as he could, then returned to the two moons before they woke up to begin their nightly dance. This, of course, as every farmer knows, is why a day is always just a few minutes short of twenty-four hours. He disguised himself as Lune and hid his fire so that Lalin wouldn’t recognize him. He then kidnapped Lune, still asleep, and buried him deep in the earth where he could not escape. Lalin soon woke up, and there stood her husband, ready to carry her off into the night. At least, she thought it was her husband. Sol took her into his arms, and the two of them danced up into the heavens.

  “When Lune awoke, he realized what Sol had done to him, and in a rage he dug his way out of the earth. The rock and dirt chipped away at him as he clawed through, and to this day you can still see the scars from his escape and the crater he left behind that we now call the Pacific Ocean. But escape he did, and when he broke free and rose into the night air, he saw his beloved dancing with an impostor. Sol realized that Lune had escaped, and so he ripped off his disguise. All of that heat, all that fire and hatred and fury, all of it blasted against Lalin at once, and she couldn’t hold together. Lune cried out, but it was too late. Lalin exploded into a billion pieces and scattered across the sky.

  “Sol, realizing what he’d done, ran away. With nothing left to live for but vengeance, Lune gave chase. Still even now, he chases after Sol, hoping to one day avenge his lost love.” Sometimes Sam would cry at this part, and Grandaddy would reach down and stroke her curly red hair.

  “Oh, don’t you cry, sweetheart. There’s a happy ending, after all. See, when Lalin shattered, she found a new home even higher than Lune could ever dream to go. You know all those stars way up in the sky?” She would nod. “Those stars are his true love spread across the universe. Now, she can see him wherever he goes, and she’ll keep on dancing for him until he stops his chase long enough to simply look up.”

  As I sat at the table remembering my Grandaddy’s twinkling eyes, Lune continued his pursuit. He was especially angry tonight. What would happen when he finally caught up with his nemesis? Would his wrath destroy us all? A part of me hoped so. It seemed to be an easier way out, at least.

  I dug my cell phone out of my pocket and dialed Sam’s number. After a few rings her voicemail picked up, as I expected it would. When her recording finished and beeped, awaiting my message, I didn’t know how to start at first. I sat and listened to the static on the other end, wondering what I could possibly say. Finally, I spoke.

  “Hey, it’s Adem. I know you don’t want to talk to me right now, and I think that’s okay. It’s probably easier this way. I just wanted to call and say thank you for being there for me. You never gave up, and that means the world to me. Anyway, I guess these are my last words to you. When you find me, tomorrow or whenever it may be, I hope you’ll understand that what I’m about to do is my way of not giving up on you. You might not understand it, but try to remember that I’m doing it for you. I’m scared, but I’m ready. I love you, Sam. Goodbye.”

  I hung up and turned the phone off, then walked over to the kitchen counter and unplugged the house phone. On my way back to the table, I pulled a large chef’s knife out of the butcher’s block. It was heavier than I expected. Well-balanced, easy to hold. I sat back down and placed the knife on the table in front of me. There was nothing left to do but wait.

  Hours passed. My eyes felt heavy in their sockets. I could feel myself drifting off occasionally, only to jerk awake from creaking noises coming from the walls of the old house. Even after decades of resting on its little plot, it still hadn’t settled in. My mind wandered to Grandaddy and to the secret that he’d kept from us for so long. So many secrets. The truth about our parents, about our heritage…about the demon, this evil spirit that was now bound to our fate.

  No, bound to my fate. Not Sam’s. Not anymore.

  It became late, and all remained quiet. If I were going to hear anything, I figured I would have heard it already. I sighed and slouched back in my chair, thankful that maybe this wasn’t my night after all. At that exact moment, a lone voice cut through the stillness and penetrated my blanket of relief. It was unusually high and melodious, barely audible, like a mosquito buzzing around my ear. I held my breath and waited. Maybe it was something else. Maybe I was imagining it.

  It wasn’t. I wasn’t. Other voices methodically blended in with the first, their tone and timbre varying wildly. I couldn’t understand what they sang, only that it was beautiful. At least, at first it was. As the voices swelled, their combined ranks produced a harsh undertone that also grew, one that seemed to rattle the teeth in my skull and threatened to loosen my bowels. In fact, the longer I sat and listened, the more certain I became that I would surely shit my pants soon, and so I finally stood. I picked up the knife and crossed the great room, then stood at the open patio door. Outside, the fields of cotton stood perfectly still, as if they too were holding their breath and waiting. The chorus again amplified, and my head felt as if it would split in two.

  I focused my eyes on the far side of the field. There, I saw it. The shadow, the earth demon, inked its way out of the forest and slithered across the white crops. I closed my eyes and wished to be wrong about everything, clinging to the hope that I had gone mad. Before I could open them, the lone voice I was waiting for, deeper and more terrifying than any of the others, called out to me.

  “COME!”

  My heart beat in my chest faster than I thought possible. When I opened my eyes, I saw the shadow standing in the middle of the field, looming over its alabaster constituency. It was waiting for me.

  I was terrified. This was it, this was the moment I would join Grandaddy and Mom and Dad and countless other sacks of meat who had perished over the course of history. The bugs and worms would consume my flesh, and eventually even my bones would crumble to dust. No one would remember me. It would be as if I’d never been born. Was this all? A flash of light in the infinite darkness?

  If so, at least I could know that I extinguished my light early so Sam’s could go on just a little longer. I grit my teeth together and took a single step toward the demon. Then another, and another, until I found myself striding directly toward the source of my fear. I crossed the threshold into the field and waded through the stalks of cotton, never taking my eyes off of the shadow hovering ahead of me. All the while, the song never relented its assault, enveloping me in its glorious madness. The demon never moved.

  When I reached the shadow and stood before it, I could see the totality of its darkness, the all-encompassing void it manifested. I searched in vain for any kind of features to distinguish one part of it from another, but there were none. The only movements that it affected were small dark wisps floating around it like curls of smoke escaping from a window. I waited, standing as steadfast as I could, holding the knife at my side. My knees shook and my breathing shallowed. Still, the demon did not move.

  �
��I’m here!” I yelled. My voice cracked at the startled sound of itself. “Go ahead, do it!” I waited for the blow to come, but it didn’t. The shadow remained motionless, but as I gazed into the void of its form, I saw movement. Subtle lines began to trace their way across the shadow, barely registered hints of depth and dimension. They grew over the demon, defining its various features and revealing to me its true form. Dark, slick sinews of muscle surfaced, and a torso with arms and legs ending in sharpened claws formed from the void, all still steaming of the shadow’s essence. The defining lines continued upward, carving out a neck and a long, thin face. Black cusps of smoke unfurled behind it, billowing in the wind like a thick mane of hair. Two green ovals, burning as emerald flame, materialized on the front of its head. Below them, the face seemed to rip apart to reveal a hideous gaping maw. It twisted into a grotesque smile, and as I beheld the totality of this abomination, it felt as if the very fabric of reality would soon slip away. I waited for the demon to complete my destruction, but it only stood before me, motionless. Neither of us moved.

  “What do you want from me?” I cried out. “You want me to do it myself?” I held the blade of the knife up and pressed it firmly against my throat. The steel was cold against my skin, and I could already feel its edge digging in. One hard yank across my neck and it would all be over. The chorus intensified until I couldn’t hear the sound of my own thoughts, a tumultuous avalanche of magnificence and terror. I closed my eyes for the last time.

  “Goodbye, Sam.”

  I gripped the handle of the knife and prepared to slice. My arm jerked. In my mind, I saw the blade open a deep wound across my neck. My jugular vein split and blood sprayed out, filling my throat. It was over. I was dying. Except, I could hear something, a sound feint yet familiar. It was a woman’s voice. She was calling my name.