DARKNESS CALLS Chapter Three
I took a shower and got out of the house as fast as I could. Being around my brother wasn't something I could handle right then. First thing I did was drive to a fast-food joint where I sat in my car and wolfed down two double-meat burgers. Can't remember how long it's been since I've done that.
Afterwards I drove around aimlessly for a while. I swung by Steve's place, but he wasn't home. There's a Starbucks near his house and I stopped there for an espresso. A girl a couple tables over was reading a book and sending me vibes. She was a graduate student type, kind of hot. Normally I would have started up a conversation. Not today. Today I wasn't fit for human company.
What had I just done? It didn't matter that Joey'd said he was okay with it. He's recovering from demonic possession and is still confused. He doesn't understand what his choices really are. I'd taken advantage of his naiveté and I'd betrayed his trust.
I felt like shit.
Moments like this, I suppose, are times when some people call their therapist. No way. I so didn't want to talk to Fellers. The idea of going back to see him again made me ill. Why? Because he would know what had happened between Joey and me. He'd know as soon as I walked into his office, if not sooner. And not just what we'd done. He'd know everything I'd felt as well.
So he'd know how ashamed I was -- not just for what I'd done, but for enjoying it so fucking much. I couldn't blame it all on the moon. I could have stopped myself, but I didn't want to. I took Joey's innocent acquiescence and ran with it because that's what I wanted. Fellers would know that, and I was going to have to walk into that session knowing that he knew.
I remember watching an X-Men movie with some friends once and going out for beers afterwards. We got into a boozy discussion about what superpower we'd each like to have and why. I wanted to be Dr. Xavier because I thought it would be so cool to be able to read other people's minds. I never thought about how awful it would be to be the one whose mind was an open book. No wonder Wolverine's so cranky.
My cell rang, interrupting a good brood. Caller ID flashed Walter Robinson. Shit, Uncle Walt. At least it wasn't Joey.
"Hey, Walter," I answered, "can you hold on for a sec?"
"Of course. Is this an inconvenient time?"
"No, I just need to go some place I can talk." I hate it when people talk on their phones in restaurants.
"Okay," I said once I had stepped outside, "what's up?"
"I wanted to check in on you boys. You've been dealing with a lot lately and I wondered how you were both getting along."
Dealing with a lot? He had no fucking idea. "Yeah, it's a weird time. We're managing."
"You'll let me know if there's anything I can do to help, won't you?"
"Thanks, Walter. I will."
"Fine. Say, Daniel, are you alone right now?"
"Yeah."
"Good. I also called because I've been going through your father's notes, trying to better understand the ramifications of his model. I know he worked closely with Mercedes. Would it would be possible for me to take a look at her papers?"
"Yeah, sure. Why?"
"I recall that Mercedes had compiled a great deal of historical information. With a working mathematical model, it may be possible to plot her empirical data accurately enough to generate some HDS time estimates."
"You said there wasn't any way to know when you-know-what's gonna happen."
"There isn't, theoretically. But there are many phenomena that are impossible to determine precisely while still being estimable for practical purposes. In fact, there's a joke about – "
"That's okay," I said. "I think I know what you mean. When do you want to come by?"
"My schedule's pretty flexible since I'm not teaching this summer, but I was wondering if we could make it sometime when Joey's not home. I'd like to talk with you about an issue that might be especially touchy for him."
"What is it?"
"I'd rather the conversation be face-to-face."
"Okay." I thought quickly. "He's got his music lesson tomorrow morning at ten. Do you want to come by then?"
"That sounds fine. I'll see you then." He hung up.
The call from Walter helped pull me out of my pity party. It was good to have something to think about other than Joey. But I still wasn't ready to face going back home, so I headed over to the gym.
I had a great workout; set a personal record on all my weights. Maybe this werewolf thing did have a few perks. While I lifted I thought about what Walter had said. I've heard the joke he was referring to, or something like it. A man is put in a room with a naked woman and told that every minute he'll be allowed to cross half the distance between them. He'll go half way, then half of what's left, then half of that. Even if he has all the time in the world, he'll never actually reach her. That's okay, the man says. I'm sure I'll get close enough for my purposes.
Shit, that brought me right back to sex. Mine, not Zeno's. My inner judge wasn't screaming quite so loudly, but I was still confused as hell. The thing that had happened between Joey and me, what did it mean? I know that I'm totally into him. There is no part of his body that doesn't turn me on -- including, I acknowledge, his dick. Does that mean I'm going to start being attracted to other men? Am I becoming gay? My brother looks so young, maybe I'll be drawn to boys. Holy shit, maybe I'm becoming a pedophile. Fuck. Still, the girl in the Starbucks had seemed hot, so maybe I'm just gonna be bisexual. Bi is cool, in a metrosexual sort of way. I could live with that.
But had I actually felt attracted to the girl, or had I just noticed that she was pretty? Did I think Joey was pretty? How attractive was my brother anyway, in an objective sense? How good-looking was he compared to other men?
I'd finished my workout and was sitting on a bench in the locker room, mulling this over and gathering the energy to go take a shower, when it suddenly stuck me where I was. I'd been so wrapped up in myself and my thoughts that I'd been oblivious to the fact that men in various degrees of nudity were passing back and forth right in front of me.
So I sat back and watched. The changing room was medium crowded. I like my gym because it's not all muscle freaks and frat boys. There's a pretty wide range of ages and body types. Still, it's definitely got its share of young, fit specimens and they had plenty of representation today. I studied the bodies around me as if they were painting subjects. I called up images of Joey and did an internal compare-and-contrast.
Two realizations came pretty quickly. The first was that regardless of whether I saw him as a man or a boy, Joey was a beautiful human being. I'm surprised that I had never noticed it before. He'd always just been my super-shy and totally asexual baby brother. It had taken falling in lust with him to see how physically attractive he was.
The second realization was that my dick was beginning to twitch and I needed to stop thinking about him pronto. Getting a hard-on in the middle of a locker room was not an experience I wanted to share with the boys.
Quickly I stood, turned my back to others, and stripped. Towel wrapped tightly around my waist, I headed for a very cold shower. I went to the last stall and lathered up. The icy water settled things down quickly, which was a relief.
As I was rinsing off I noticed that someone had taken up occupancy in the stall across from me. It was one of the younger guys I had studied a few minutes ago in the changing room. He looked college aged, bigger and hairier than Joey, with a really toned body. He had brown hair and brown eyes that were staring at me.
Really staring at me. I mean those eyes were boring into me. As they did he ran his hands over his chest -- nice chest, by the way -- and slid one down to give a quick tug on his dick, which looked to be at the high end of the size curve.
Shit, this guy was cruising me. Did this sort of thing really happen in gyms? I'd never noticed before. Was this just random, or had he seen me checking him out earlier and thought I might be interested?
Might I be interested? I checked my impulse to turn away and instead returned his gaze, keeping my expression as blank and noncommittal as possible. That was enough for him. He leaned back against the slick tiles and let his hips jut forward. His hand dropped back to his dick and he started stroking it. Water ran down his torso, moving his chest hairs around like moss waving in a stream. His dick grew as he jacked it, staring at me with a little smirk on his lips.
He nodded, inviting me to do something, I think, although I had no idea what. He was a handsome, well-hung dude wanting to get it on with me ... and I was totally not interested. I wasn't repelled or outraged, as I would have once been, but I wasn't turned on either.
I nodded back to him, turned off my shower, grabbed my towel and went back to my locker to dry off and dress. Rather than feeling creepy, the whole shower scene made me feel lighter. I didn't think I was going to start lusting after other guys. I was just in love with Joey, that's all.
I got dressed and headed out.
"Hey!" Someone called behind me as I left the gym.
I turned. It was shower dude. He was dressed in a pair of Levis and a grey t-shirt with a black leather jacket. Looked very San Fran.
"Yeah?" Surprisingly, I was feeling kind of friendly toward him. He'd helped me out -- although not, I'm sure, in the way he'd intended.
"I'm Chris," he held out his hand.
I hesitated a second before taking it. "Dan."
His grip lasted a heartbeat longer than necessary. "I've seen you here before. You swim a lot, right?"
"Yeah."
"That's cool. You wanna get some coffee or ... something?"
"No thanks."
"Okay." He fished a card out of his jacket pocket and offered it to me. "Call or text me any time, if you want to do something."
I looked at him without reaching for the card. His brown eyes were very intent. He seemed more vulnerable than he had back in the shower, which, all things considered, was surprising.
"Look," I said, "what you want isn't gonna happen. Sorry, but it won't."
"What, you mean you don't drink coffee? Or just not with men?"
Cute. I took the card. 'Chris Berkham', it said, 'since 1989'. Below it was a phone number.
Despite myself, I grinned. "Espresso." I handed the card back. "I like espresso."
"I could get into espresso. Why don't you hang onto my card, in case you change your mind?"
"Don't need it; I'll remember. I've got a thing about numbers. But don't get your hopes up."
"I'll try." He gave me a lazy smile. "I'm not great at keeping things down."
"Yeah," I shook my head, grinning again. "I noticed." Shower dude was funny. Turning, I continued on my way to the Porsche. As I got in I looked back and saw that he'd slipped on a pair of sunglasses and was leaning against the wall, watching me. He nodded, oh so James Dean. I nodded back and drove off. For some reason I was feeling a whole lot better.
Joey was making dinner when I got home. I slipped past him and went back to my office. I'd been neglecting work lately; there were close to four-dozen emails sitting in my inbox. I tuned out everything else and just focused on going through them.
An hour later Joey brought me dinner. He put it on the filing credenza, just like he always does when I'm working, and left without saying a word. Later I heard him practicing. After that I heard the T.V. on in the living room. By the time I was finished for the night he had turned it off and gone to bed.
I got up late the next morning and hung out more in my office, this time working through the snail mail. After Joey left for his lesson I took a quick shower and got dressed.
Surprisingly, Walter showed up at five minutes before the hour. That was a first. Typically he runs late. He'd also changed his eau de toilette: no menthol cigarette smell. In fact, no cigarette smell, period.
"You quit smoking?" I asked after we'd greeted each other.
"Why yes, I have. How did you know?"
"Can't smell the menthol."
"I didn't know it was that obvious. It's been tougher than I thought. Couldn't do it without Chantix. Say, you don't happen to have any coffee, do you?"
"Sure, I'll get you some." I tried to keep the grin to myself.
I poured a cup for him and we took a seat at the dining room table.
"So, what did you want to talk about?" I asked.
He cleared his throat. "I'm not quite sure were to start. Jonathan and I talked about hypersynchronicity for years. I was the one colleague who took what he said seriously."
Walter traced the lip of his mug with his finger. "But to be honest, deep down I didn't really believe it." He looked up. "Seeing Jonathan's final model has changed that. I've been going over it and not only is it mathematically sound, it's also consistent with a number of theories and observed phenomena. It's not just brilliant math; it's solid physics."
He paused and took a sip of coffee. "I've been thinking about how the math translates into everyday practice, about how magic could really work in the world. That's part of the reason I'd like to see Mercedes' papers.
"Our conversation a couple of weeks ago got me thinking about Jonathan's and Mercedes' deaths. Mercedes was a witch, and I remember Jonathan saying that she had relatives who were also witches and who wouldn't like her collaborating with him on the Project."
Walter fished his 10-year AA chip out of his jacket pocket and began to play with it. Chantix or not, he was definitely jonesing. "I have a notion that you may find shocking. I believe it is possible that Jonathan's and Mercedes' deaths may have been caused by magic."
I looked out the window at the trees in the preserve. How should I respond to Walter? Part of me wanted to tell him everything. It would be such a relief to be able to talk to someone about it. On the other hand, it had become pretty clear that talking about Darkness to the lightblind wasn't approved of by most shadowkin. I didn't want to put him in the same kind of danger that had caused Dad's death.
But on the third hand, he already knew or had figured out quite a bit. And he had loved Dad too. He deserved, if not all of the truth, at least some portion of it.
Walter was watching me closely. "Look, Daniel, I realize that this may sound – "
"You're right."
"Yes, but bear with – "
"No, Walter, I mean that what you said is true. Dad was murdered by one of Mercedes' relatives. Mercedes got payback, but somehow it drove her crazy."
Walter was staring at me. "You're serious?"
"Yes."
"How did you learn all this?"
I shook my head. "Dad was killed because Mercedes had shared too many family secrets with him. I'm not sure what constitutes a family secret, so I'd rather not make the same mistake."
"Are ... " Walter licked his lips, "are you and Joey in any danger?"
I shrugged. "I don't think so." Charolotta was dead and Momma Lolotta had declared an end to the vendetta. "But are you sure you want to look at Mercedes' papers? There may be things in them that outsiders aren't supposed to see."
Walter slumped back in his chair, rubbing his chip between his thumb and index finger. Maybe it was the nicotine withdrawal, but he didn't look so great. His face was gaunt and he seemed sort of wrung out.
Abruptly he leaned forward. "Yes, I do want to look at the papers. If there's a risk I'll chance it." His voice thickened with emotion. "You need to understand something, Daniel. This is the greatest physics discovery of our lifetimes. What Jonathan accomplished is bigger than Einstein, bigger even than Newton. This is something that transforms the universe and mankind's place in it. This is the Copernican Revolution."
Walter's eyes were fever-bright. "Jonathan gave his life for this and he was right. It's worth it."
Wow. I'd never seen Walter worked up like this before. Usually he's such a mild, unassuming guy. Boring, really. Suddenly he's spouting off like some nineteenth century romantic. I can't imagine a stronger proof for the existence of magic.
I took him down to the basement storeroom and showed him the bins.
"This is everything from their office. I got them sorted into his and hers." I pointed to the bins stacked along one wall. "Those are hers."
Walter eyed the stack doubtfully. "I'm not sure what will be of use. Do you mind if I borrow them?"
"All of them?"
"All of Mercedes, if you don't mind. I could go through them here if you prefer, but that will have me under foot quite a bit."
"No, that's fine. I trust you with them. You want them all right now? There's a lot."
"So I can see. I still have the wagon. Everything should fit."
It did, barely. We loaded up his station wagon and Walter was gone before Joey got back from his lesson.
I spent the next few hours working in my office. By then I'd caught up on correspondence and bills, and was reading articles from the Times, WSJ, the Economist and Christian Science Monitor. I always need to get a sense of big picture trends before I can decide what I want to do in the market. It's a progression from qualitative to quantitative. I've tried at times to explain how I work to my broker friends, but they never fully got it. I think some of them thought I was holding something back, even though I wasn't. It's really no different from being in the sweet spot when I'm painting. I've wondered if this was how Dad felt when he was working; I imagine him as an artist whose medium was pure mathematics.
Sometime mid-afternoon the doorbell rang. I let Joey get it.
"Daniel?"
I looked up. My brother was standing in the doorway to my office. He looked nervous.
"Someone at the door?"
He nodded. "It's a police detective. He showed me his badge. He wants to talk to you."
I got up and went to the door. "Can I help you, officer?"
"Hope so." The detective was a middle-aged guy dressed in a navy blue blazer with grey slacks. No tie. He held up his badge. "I'm Detective Garrett. You're Daniel Miltzer?"
"Yes."
"Do you know a young lady named Opal Estrella?"
"Opal?" What the hell was going on? "Yeah, we dated a bit. Is she okay?"
"We're not sure. When is the last time you saw her?"
The last time I'd seen cousin Opal she'd been storming out of the house spewing venom at me.
"Couple weeks ago, I think. We didn't go out for very long. It was less than a month."
"I see. Did she say anything about taking a trip?"
"No, I don't think so."
"You've been inside of her condo haven't you?"
"Sure. What's going on?"
Detective Garrett ignored my question. "We've talked to a neighbor. She told us you had stayed over at Ms. Estrella's place a few times."
"Yeah, I did. But like I said, that was several weeks ago."
"Did she have any pets?"
"She has a cat." Who'd never really warmed to me. Maybe it was the werewolf thing.
"A cat," the man nodded. "Any others?"
"No. Will you tell me what's happened?"
He eyed me a moment before answering. "The young lady has disappeared. Her car is gone and no one has seen her in a couple of days. Hasn't shown up at her yoga class and no return calls to friends. She left her cell phone on the kitchen counter in the condo. I assume you haven't heard from her?"
I shook my head.
"Right." The detective took a breath. "The other thing is that someone broke into her apartment and killed the cat. We assume it's dead because its blood was everywhere. No sign of the body. We did find evidence of another animal in the condo. Some hair bits and scratch marks around the back door, which was ripped out of the door frame."
He shook his head. "Can't quite figure it out. It's almost like someone broke into the condo and released an animal to kill the cat."
I was starting to feel dizzy. "That's weird." The words sounded far away, like they were coming from someone else. "When did you say this happened?"
"About three days ago. Same night as the full moon."
Oh, fuck.
"Just for my report, where were you that night?"
"I was at home. My brother Joey was here too."
"He's the one who answered the door?"
"Yeah. Shall I go get him?"
"No, that's fine. Can you give me your number, in case I have more questions?"
"Sure." I gave it to him.
"Here," Detective Garrett handed me a card. "If you hear from her, tell her to call this number."
"Okay." I took the card and he left.
Then I went into the bathroom and threw up.
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It's great to see Uncle Walt back on the job. This idea of his for measuring the decay sequence sounds interesting. You humans can be so inventive sometimes. Based on what he's done already, I wouldn't be surprised if he can do it. Poor old Walter is excessively modest about his intellectual prowess. It's the consequence of living in the shadow of true genius for too long. Sure, he's no Jonathan Meltzer, but he's no mental lightweight either. I'll do what I can to help. Like I said, I'm feeling in a generous mood these days.
But Danny-boy seems to be going through a rough patch. Maybe integration isn't proceeding quite as smoothly as he thought. Has that doggy been bad?
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