What kind of people read Derek Crowe?
He laughed sardonically to himself, but the male of the pair, a pale and skinny kid, picked up on it and also began chuckling. Then he shoved an open copy of The Mandala Rites at Derek.
“Read the regular edition already,” he said. “Wrecked it up already. It gets like a car repair manual, you know? With candle wax and wine stains instead of motor oil? My working copy. But I’m gonna take good care of this one.”
His accent was as vague and untethered as TV had made all things; he could have been from anywhere. It occurred to Derek that maybe only a local would feel comfortable enough to dress this way in a redneck town, knowing his folks would protect him. He imagined feuds in the hills going on for generations thanks to freaks like this. Of course, all he really knew about hick towns was what he’d learned from TV.
Derek handed back the signed book and started gathering up receipts and cash, all his things.
“You try all the rituals in here?” the boy said. “I mean, I know you transcribed them all, but have you worked them all yourself?”
“Every one of them,” Derek said distractedly, looking for a pay phone.
“Even the—you know?”
The girl was looking at Derek with big eyes, lips slightly parted, as if stunned. Younger than she looked, but at the same time older, burned out deep inside. Nerve-damaged.
“The sexual ones?” the guy said.
An elderly woman gasped and moved quickly away, looking at the red volume in her hands as if she had just paid to poison herself. The others drifted off, sensing that they weren’t going to get autographs tonight, not wanting to stress the brittle edges of their celebrity’s mood. Derek stared at the two punks, weary of the crowd, the questions, the whole fucking charade that was his life and livelihood.
“Look,” he said, “is there a phone around here?”
“You need to call someone?”
He didn’t bother answering that one.
The girl slugged her boyfriend in the arm. “Michael, are you an idiot?”
“No, I mean, since he’s not from around here, if he needs a lift somewhere…”
Not with you, Derek thought. But he didn’t know how long it would take to find a cab. The nearest taxi was probably in Charlotte. There was one flight tonight. If he missed it, he would be stuck here till morning. One of the Sisters was supposed to take him to the airport, but he was reluctant to ask them for anything now. Having already refused hotel accommodations, he found himself saying, “The airport.”
“Hey, we can take you. We’re going that way—we live on the outskirts.”
“He doesn’t want to ride with us,” the girl said. “He’s probably got a limo waiting out front.”
At that moment the Valkyrie shoved past Derek, not deigning to grace him with her icy gaze as she headed toward the back of the hall. Reminded of what waited for him here, he nodded to the kids.
“Actually,” Derek said, “if you’re serious, I might just take you up on that ride.”
“Wow, really?” The poor boy seemed in shock. “Okay, great! Wow, I don’t believe this! Lenore, Derek Crowe is coming with us! Oh, man!”
“We’re right outside,” she said. “You need help with anything?”
“Yeah,” Michael said. “Can I get your bags? Really, I can’t believe this—there’s like so many questions I want to ask you.”
This is a mistake, Derek told himself, but he went right on making it anyway.
4
The night was colder than he ‘d expected; it cut through the loose shirt to slash his ribs. As he paused on the steps, fumbling for a sweater in one of his bags, the guy said, “Name’s Michael. You know, like the archangel?”
“More like plain old Michael,” said the girl, extending her hand although Derek, caught up in the sweater, couldn’t very well accept it. “I’m Lenore,” she said.
“Like in Poe,” Michael said. “The telltale heart, chopped-up bodies, big swinging razor blades, and rats trying to eat you. Some kids get named for nursery rhymes. Not Lenore.”
Derek finally clasped her hand. It was small, cold, and bony, and studded with garish silver rings, lost-wax skulls and dragon heads, glittering crystal eyes.
“Nope, not my wife,” Michael went on, striding stiff-legged down the steps toward the street. “Lenore’s not like most people.”
Lenore trailed close behind Derek, shadowing him. He glanced down and back, saw her upturned eyes gleaming with moonlight. It was a clear winter night, the waxing moon so bright that only a few washed-out stars managed to burn their way through—and those were near the horizon, competing with streetlights.
“I really liked your lecture,” she said, a bit hesitant.
“Did you?”
“It was—inspiring. I felt something happen to me in there. As if everything you said made sense—as if I’d known it all the time but never realized it, and suddenly it just clicked.” She smiled up at him. “I see everything differently now.”
“Do you really?” he said, trying to hide his disappointment. He was hoping she had more sense than that, but apparently she was just another one of the loonies.
“Whoa, really, Lenore?” said the boy. “Are you serious? Man, Mr. Crowe, she doesn’t usually go for this stuff. I mean, not at all, not Lenore. I sort of had to drag her along tonight.”
“That’s not true,” she said. “I decided to come. I’m glad I did too.”
“Well, that’s very encouraging,” he said. “You two’re married?”
“Sure,” she said.
“It’s just… you both look so young.”
Michael laughed, a hoarse and uncomfortable sound. “We’re old souls.”
“I envy that woman,” she said. “Ms. A. You just had to hypnotize her and the mandalas came, huh?”
“That’s right. I was doing what I thought would be some simple trance work, and she went deeper under than anyone I’d ever seen. Suddenly I found myself… well, out of my element. Everything changed for me then too.”
“I haven’t done any of the rituals in your book,” she said. “Michael’s done most of them I suppose, but I haven’t really been interested. But I think I might like to now. After hearing you talk. You’re really an amazing speaker. You have some kind of animal magnetism. Is that the word?”
It was a phrase that made Derek shudder, but he nodded. “An old word, but outdated. Like mesmerism. Thanks anyway.” Her attention was flattering. He found himself regarding her more generously and finding in her haggard features quite a bit to attract him.
“Wow, I can’t believe this,” Michael said. “You want to do a ritual? Something really must have happened to you tonight.”
“Yeah,” she said, “something clicked.”
Michael laughed and did a little capering step and hurried on ahead of them up the sidewalk.
“So,” Derek said quietly, “do you have any children?”
“I had twins,” she said, even more softly. “Not with Michael. I only saw them for a minute and then they got taken away. I wasn’t on junk, not then, I’d kicked; but the hospital did these tests on my hair and it still showed up, and since I was on public assistance, they—I—they didn’t even tell me they were taking them.”