Chapter Twenty-Three
Glistening scales appeared a dull silver and black in the wan moonlight.
Josie stood unmoving in a darkened bedroom, the draft from a warped window casing bumping up against her chest. The window stood about three feet from a thick mat made of cotton or linen—difficult to see in the dark—upon which a serpent sat.
The sensation of cold and the sweet scent of rot almost tricked Josie’s brain into thinking this was real, but when she cataloged the size of the creature and the fact that the walls of the room were carved of sandstone, she understood it was a dream and she faced something much grander than a snake.
Josie wore a long pink flannel nightgown with tiny bluebonnets embroidered at the neckline. It had been her momma’s, and in real life, Josie had never worn it. Instead, she’d kept it in a plastic bag in the back of her closet to preserve her momma’s smell.
Josie had forgotten it when packing her duffel bag the day she left Texas and for years fantasized about going back to get it.
Beneath her toes, the bare floor was icy cold, and she wasn’t wearing socks.
“You have disturbed my rest,” the serpent said.
Not that the flickering red tongue darting in and out of the serpent’s mouth had shaped those words. The words simply hung in the air between them.
“I’m sorry,” Josie said.
The following pause made her slightly nauseous.
Still trying to parse sleep from wake, Josie couldn’t discern what kind of serpent she faced.
In her religion, serpents were the symbol for forbidden knowledge.
Then again, some of her neighbors in Texas had believed handling snakes proved you were pure in the eyes of the Lord.
Would that make a serpent part of the Light or the Dark?
“Can I do anything to make it up to you?” Josie asked, the polite response coming automatically despite the obvious ridiculousness of the offer. What the heck was she supposed to do? Sing the giant serpent a lullaby? Make it a cup of hot milk?
The serpent’s coils shifted and more of its massive body came into view.
Josie had the urge to kneel.
“You have a child,” the serpent said.
Cold raced up the back of Josie’s knees and she trembled.
“Don’t touch him.” The warning slipped from her lips and sounded more like a plea in the torpid air. Josie licked her lips to repeat her warning, but words deserted her as the serpent rose above her.
There was no ceiling above them, just a sky so black it was purple, and the only illumination came through the window. Josie couldn’t see the whole of the creature, but the occasional shine of its scales hinted at something larger than would fit in an apartment.
Too many strange things had happened for her to question how a dream could feel this real. Instead, Josie focused on the basic question of whether she was going to die right here in her momma’s nightgown without having made arrangements for Amos or saying goodbye to her friends.
“You are brave for such a tiny being,” the serpent said.
Josie wasn’t brave. She was scared and cold and beyond confused.
A dry flapping sound accompanied the serpent’s moving tongue, and without warning, it came closer as the great beast lowered its head. Josie shook hard enough her teeth rattled.
“The universe is out of balance and sickening the Waysides,” the serpent said, its words dry and unemotional. “The cure for the Waysides is the cure for everything.”
Okay. Great. That was helpful.
“How do I find the cure?” Josie asked.
Like the roar of a waterfall, the serpent’s hiss pounded the walls and shook the floorboards.
“Are you truly so stupid as to ask me?” the serpent demanded. “Little speck, if it were in my power to cure the Waysides, I would have done so at the beginning.”
Josie stumbled back, her feet now numb from cold.
“Okay, you don’t have to be mean,” she admonished. “I figured you brought me here to give me a clue or something.”
The dim light finally allowed Josie a glimpse of the serpent’s head.
Holy. Shit. Holy shit this thing was huge.
Golden eyes at least two feet wide stared at her, unblinking.
“I brought you here because I need a warm snack before I can fall back asleep,” the serpent said.
If Josie could have moved her legs, she would have run straight through the window, broken bones be damned, but her body wouldn’t respond to her brain’s order to flee.
The vertical black crevasse in the serpent’s eye widened, and as it did, all sensation left Josie’s body.
She slumped to the floor and landed on her back, one leg bent outward.
I hope you choke, you overgrown worm! Josie shouted. In her head, of course, since her mouth couldn’t move, not even to draw breath.
The moving coils made a sandpapery sound as the serpent lowered itself closer, and as terrifying as the sight was, Josie wouldn’t look away.
All she could think was she’d failed Amos, sentencing him to the same hollow ache that had sat inside Josie for years. Why wasn’t she enough for anyone to stick around? What was she lacking that sent her momma and her daddy away?
Tears of rage blinded her. How dare this creature do that to Amos?
“Hello, Mother. What are you playing with?”
The serpent raised its head away from Josie and faced someone, or something, on the other side of the room.
“Daughter,” the serpent said in greeting. “Are you hungry, too?”
“For one of them?” The daughter made a gagging sound.
Oh jeez, thanks, lady.
“You wouldn’t eat it anyway,” the woman said. “They’re full of bile and contradictions, both of which you can have only in moderation. Stop teasing the poor thing.”
“Who is the mother and who is the child here?” the serpent demanded. “I’ve been eating mortal souls for longer than you’ve been sentient.”
Sensation came back into Josie’s limbs. She clenched and unclenched her toes and fingers while the pair bickered about cholesterol levels and diets.
Once the conversation veered into how the serpent spoke to her daughter about weight gain during adolescence, Josie knew it was time to run.
Nothing good ever came out of those conversations.
“…never said you were fat. I said the outfit you were wearing—”
Josie didn’t bother to look behind her to catch a glimpse of the daughter. Instead, she heaved herself off the floor and ran for the window, the serpent’s surprised hiss ruffling the hair on her neck.
Just as she covered her face with her arm and launched herself toward the glass, Josie was wrenched backward. The daughter had one arm wrapped around Josie’s waist, the other over her eyes.
“Ballsy move,” the daughter whispered in Josie’s ear. “Now go limp and let me get you out of this.”
Recognizing the woman’s voice, Josie did as she was told.
“I am going to take great pleasure in squeezing the life from that thing,” the serpent declared.
“You can’t eat it. Even if it didn’t make you sick, it still has a young in the nest who can’t care for itself.”
Amos.
An image of him and his sweet blinding smile flashed through her brain and Josie whimpered.
“I could eat the young,” said the serpent.
The daughter made a sound of disbelief. “Let this one go and I’ll order us takeout.”
“Hmmph,” the serpent snorted. “Not Thai again. I’m sick of Thais.”
The woman lifted Josie off the floor and carried her to a door carved from the rock wall that hadn’t been there two minutes ago.
“As for you, little human…” the serpent said.
The daughter paused but Josie kept her glance straight ahead, willing herself not to react.
“I am sparing you on account of your young,” the serpent informed her. “If you wish to stay out of my lair and my belly, however, I suggest you find that cure.”
Before Josie could make any promises, the world went black.
· · ·
Pax hadn’t been able to get away from the triage following Princess Naliti’s experiment gone wrong last night until it was too late to go visit Josie.
He’d waited till an hour past the sunrise to walk up to Josie’s door but his courage deserted him.
He’d raised his hand to knock, then dropped his arm and walked away, toward the elevator.
He would have pressed the button to go down, but it melted into the wall as he approached.
“Very subtle,” he whispered.
The elevator disappeared and several iron birds swooped over his head.
Pax sighed and rolled his eyes, turned on his heel, and walked back to the door. Considered leaving Number Five to purchase a cell phone to call Josie but he didn’t have her number. Stared at his shoes for a little bit and thought about kisses. Kisses and the destruction of the universe.
“Hello, Mr. Pax. Why is you walking around out here?” Amos stood at the open door and stared up at Pax’s fist, once again raised as if to knock.
“Hello, Mr. Amos,” Pax replied.
Amos wore yellow sweatpants, a blue sweatshirt with a pony wearing goggles on it, and a white cap with a blue buffalo across the top.
Were human children color-blind until a certain age?
“You are not wearing any superheroes today,” Pax said, stalling.
What was he going to tell the child?
Oh, I’m walking around until I find the right words to convince your mother she is perfectly safe but at the same time under my protection and to sniff her hair and figure out if she’ll let me have sex with her again.
Nope. Can’t say that.
“I got Hulk on my underwear,” Amos informed him. “And I got Batman on my socks.”
Sure enough, the caped defender stared up at him from the little boy’s feet.
“Excellent.” Pax craned his head and peered into the apartment. “Where is your mother, Mr. Amos? She wouldn’t want you to answer the door without her.”
Amos shrugged. “I’m not allowed, except the door opened by itself.”
No going back now.
“Can you tell her I am here? I will wait out in the hallway if you…”
“Hi.” Josie came out of her bedroom dressed the same as her son, except her sweatpants were black and her blue sweatshirt had Kamala across the front of it.
“Hi,” he said.
She didn’t smile as they stared at each other. Pax felt the space between them widen.