The Djinn left the room without protest and Brine turned again to Travis. “I think you found the woman you’ve been looking for,” he said. “Amanda and Effrom Elliot were married right after he returned from World War One. They get their picture in the local paper every year on their anniversary — you know, under a caption that reads, ‘And they said it wouldn’t last.’ As soon as the king is ready we’ll go over there and see if we can get the candlesticks — if she still has them. I need your word that I can trust you not to try to escape.”
“You have it,” Travis said. “But I think we should go back to Jenny’s house — be ready when Catch returns.”
Brine said, “I want you to try to put Jenny out of your mind, Travis. That’s the only way you’ll regain control of the demon. But first, there’s something you ought to know about her.”
“I know — she’s married.”
“No. She’s Amanda’s granddaughter.”
28
EFFROM
Never having died before, Effrom was confused about how he should go about it. It didn’t seem fair that a man his age should have to adapt to new and difficult situations. But life was seldom fair, and it was probably safe to assume that death wasn’t fair either. This wasn’t the first time he had been tempted to firmly demand to speak to the person in charge. It had never worked at the post office, the DMV, or return counters at department stores. Perhaps it would work here.
But where was here?
He heard voices; that was a good sign. It didn’t seem uncomfortably warm — a good sign. He sniffed the air — no sulfur fumes (brimstone, the Bible called it); that was a good sign. Perhaps he had done all right. He did a quick inventory of his life: good father, good husband, responsible if not dedicated worker. Okay, so he cheated at cards at the VFW, but eternity seemed like an awfully long sentence for shuffling aces to the bottom of the deck.
He opened his eyes.
He had always imagined heaven to be bigger and brighter. This looked like the inside of a cabin. Then he spotted the woman. She was dressed in an iridescent purple body stocking. Her raven-black hair hung to her waist. Heaven? Effrom thought.
She was talking on the phone. They have phones in heaven? Why not?
He tried to sit up and found that he was tied to the bed. Why was that? Hell?
“Well, which is it?” he demanded.
The woman covered the receiver with her hand and turned to him. “Say something so your wife will know you’re okay,” she said.
“I’m not okay. I’m dead and I don’t know where I am.”
The woman spoke into the phone, “You see, Mrs. Elliot, your husband is safe and will remain so as long as you do exactly as I have instructed.”
The woman covered the mouthpiece again. “She says she doesn’t know about any invocation.”
Effrom heard a gravely male voice answer her, but he couldn’t see anyone else in the cabin. “She’s lying,” the voice said.
“I don’t think so — she’s crying.”
“Ask her about Travis,” the voice said.
Into the phone the woman said: “Mrs. Elliot, do you know someone named Travis?” She listened for a second and held the receiver to her breast. “She says no.”
“It might have been a long time ago,” the voice said. Effrom kept looking for who was talking but could see no one.
“Think,” the woman said into the phone, “it might have been a long time ago.”
The woman listened and nodded with a smile. Effrom looked in the direction of her nod. Who the hell was she nodding to?
“Did he give you anything?” The woman listened. “Candlesticks?”
“Bingo!” the voice said.
“Yes,” said the woman. “Bring the candlesticks here and your husband will be released unharmed. Tell no one, Mrs. Elliot. Fifteen minutes.”
“Or he dies,” the voice said.
“Thank you, Mrs. Elliot,” the woman said. She hung up.
To Effrom she said, “Your wife is on the way to pick you up.”
“Who else is in this room?” Effrom asked. “Who have you been talking to?”
“You met him earlier today,” the woman said.
“The alien? I thought he killed me.”
“Not yet,” the voice said.
“Is she coming?” Catch asked.
Rachel was looking out the cabin window at a cloud of dust rising from the dirt road. “I can’t tell,” she said. “Mr. Elliot, what kind of car does your wife drive?”
“A white Ford,” Effrom said.
“It’s her.” Rachel felt a shiver of excitement run through her. Her sense of wonder had been stretched and tested many times in the last twenty-four hours, leaving her open and raw to every emotion. She was afraid of the power she was about to gain, but at the same time, the myriad possibilities that power created diluted her fear with a breathless giddiness. She felt guilty about abusing the old couple in order to gain the invocation, but perhaps with her newfound power she could repay them. In any case, it would be over soon and they would be going home.
The actual nature of the Earth spirit bothered her as well. Why did it seem… well… so impious? And why did it seem so male?
The Ford pulled up in front of the cabin and stopped. Rachel watched a frail old woman get out of the car holding two ornate candlesticks. The woman clutched the candlesticks to her and stood by the car looking around, waiting. She was obviously terrified and Rachel, feeling a stab of guilt, looked away. “She’s here,” Rachel said.
Catch said, “Tell her to come in.”
Effrom looked up from the bed, but he could not rise enough to see out the window. “What are you going to do to the wife?” he demanded.
“Nothing at all,” Rachel said. “She has something I need. When I get it, you can both go home.”
Rachel went to the door and threw it open as if she were welcoming home a long-lost relative. Amanda stood by the car, thirty feet away. “Mrs. Elliot, you’ll need to bring the candlesticks in so we can inspect them.”
“No.” Amanda stood firm. “Not until I know that Effrom is safe.”
Rachel turned to Effrom. “Say something to your wife, Mr. Elliot.”
“Nope,” Effrom said. “I’m not speaking to her. This is all her fault.”
“Please cooperate, Mr. Elliot, so we can let you go home.” To Amanda, Rachel said, “He doesn’t want to talk, Mrs. Elliot. Why don’t you bring the candlesticks in? I assure you that neither one of you will be harmed.” Rachel couldn’t believe that she was saying these things. She felt as if she were reading the script from a bad gangster movie.
Amanda stood clutching the candlesticks, uncertain of what she should do. Rachel watched the old woman take a tentative step toward the cabin, then, suddenly, the candlesticks were ripped from her grasp and Amanda was thrown to the ground as if she’d been hit by a shotgun blast.
“No!” Rachel screamed.
The candlesticks seemed to float in the air as Catch carried them to her. She ignored them and ran to where Amanda lay on the ground. She cradled the old woman’s head in her arms. Amanda opened her eyes and Rachel breathed a sigh of relief.
“Are you all right, Mrs. Elliot? I’m so sorry.”
“Leave her,” Catch said. “I’ll take care of both of them in a second.”
Rachel turned toward Catch’s voice. The candlesticks were shaking in the air. She still found it unsettling to talk to a disembodied voice.
“I don’t want these people hurt, do you understand?”
“But now that we have the invocation, they are insignificant.” The candlesticks turned in the air as Catch examined them. “Come now, I think there’s a seam on one of these, but I can’t grip it. Come open it.”