This is part 3 of my serialized short story. Here is part1 and part 2.
August 1927
“That is why I am here, with everything I have left.” Bonnie tapped her hard shelled suitcase with her foot. The padlock holding it shut rattled. “It’s all the jars full of my pain.”
She was sitting in the room’s only chair. Arthur, all six feet and four inches of him, stood a few paces away. He could be intimidating if he wanted to be, but this woman wasn’t easily frightened. Ethel stood behind Arthur, cradling their sick baby. Bonnie had just told them that she had arrived at this place in search of her own baby, whom she claimed was taken from her after she’d died in a fire. This self proclaimed ghost claimed to be blind and burned all over. That was why she was covered from head to toe.
Worry crossed Ethel’s face. “Who are you looking for again?”
“Jonas.” said Bonnie. “Jonas told me to meet him here. He said I would find my baby and he would find someone else to take my pain. Then I could live again.”
“There’s no Jonas here.” said Ethel.
“Then I will wait until he arrives.”
“I think we’ve been courteous enough…”
“That’s how it is with you two.”
“I don’t have the patience for this.” said Ethel. “Beverly is sick. My cousin is returning with the doctor any minute. Arthur, could you show her out?”
Bonnie grasped the padlock on the suitcase and turned the dial, saying, “If my baby is sick, then I am very interested in helping her recover.”
“Your baby?” Ethel nearly screamed. “Arthur?”
“You need to leave.” said Arthur.
“But wouldn’t you like to see, Praemonitus?”
The word made Arthur stop. This was the word she had whispered to him when they’d met on the train not an hour before, the word she’d used before somehow setting a man’s face on fire. They both knew what it meant, and as Bonnie said it, she traced a shape in the air with her gloved index finger. It was the same symbol of knotted triangles that were poorly tattooed on the back of Arthur’s hand.
“What did you call me?” he said.
The woman removed the lock and opened the suitcase. It was full of square packages wrapped in brown paper and arranged together in neat rows. She removed one of these and opened it, revealing more brown paper. She unwrapped this and held up a jar shaped like an hourglass. It had a screw cap on one end and a dark mucus like liquid dripped through the neck between the chambers. Bonnie turned the hourglass upside down and the liquid shifted colors through the range of dark green to brown. The flow of drops did not reverse once the object was upside down. Instead, they dripped up.
“Even gravity can’t stop the flow of time.” said Bonnie. “Or pain.”
Arthur lunged for Bonnie. She slid a hand into her coat pocket and removed a revolver with a polished wooden handle. It looked like it was smeared with the same material that was in the hour glass. The appearance of a firearm didn’t deter Arthur. She was blind. Or maybe she wasn’t, but it made no difference right then anyway. What stopped him once more was when Bonnie pressed the muzzle against her temple.
“I know I can’t shoot you.” she said. “But I figure you’d prefer not to plaster blood and brains all over your house.”
“I thought you weren’t alive.”
“Who says ghosts don’t bleed? What if they can die over and over, treading their remains across all the thresholds of the living? Take your chances, courageous Arthur.”
With the other hand, she was still holding the hourglass she had called her jar full of pain. The chamber from which the liquid was flowing was nearly empty and the other nearly full.
“Jonas better arrive before the time is up…” said Bonnie. “Or there will be worse things than that.”
“Let’s just leave.” said Ethel.
“But Randall…” said Arthur. “And the doctor?”
“We’ll go to the neighbors. He’ll see us on the way. Arthur, let’s go.”
He nodded and they made their way to the door. Bonnie turned the revolver out. She fired, hitting the door and sending splinters flying. Ethel screamed and cringed backward. Beverly, her baby, wailed. Arthur put his arms around them.
Bonnie said, “I did get some idea of how this little apartment is laid out. I pay attention to my every movement.” She placed the hourglass on the table in front of the chair. Still holding the pistol out, she took her cane and stood. “I had a baby.” She walked towards them, clicking her cane. “They took her away, but I’m not ready to let her go.”Click, click. “Jonas said I could have my child back. So I come here and what do I find?”
Bonnie fired again and this time the bullet hit Ethel in the arm. Arthur reached for her and took the baby as she fell against the wall, hitting her back hard. Another shot hit to the left of Ethel’s head. She crouched and covered her ears. She rolled onto the floor. Bonnie came closer, clicking as she went.
“Get Beverley out of here!” said Ethel.
Arthur kept Beverly close to his chest. He didn’t want to leave Ethel here, but she was right. He started for the door again as Bonnie dropped the revolver back in her pocket. Her gloved hand was covered in the dark liquid which had been smeared on the gun. She knelt down, and with inhuman speed and strength, she grasped Ethel by the ankle. The mere touch seemed to change Ethel, consume her with intolerable pain. She twisted but could not break free.
Then the door swung open and hit Arthur in the face. He staggered to one side and regained his bearings. There was Randall and the doctor. They took a second to size up what was happening and then Randall charged across the room towards his cousin. She looked up at him with pleading eyes, just before her ankle caught fire.
“Ethel!” shouted Arthur and Randall at once.
“Give me the baby and I will return her.” said Bonnie.
Arthur didn’t have a lot of time to think, but he did realize one thing. Why had Bonnie gone after Ethel? Arthur was the one holding Beverly now. The baby was what Bonnie wanted. This furious ghost, armed with a revolver and incendiary fingers, wasn’t going to attack Arthur directly. She’d flung words at him and little more. Despite her external demeanor, for some reason she was afraid of him.
The only way to Arthur now was through Ethel. Bonnie had to have known it was a gamble. As much as a man loved his future wife, no man worth the love of such a woman would ever give up their child.
Randall grabbed Ethel by the arms and tried to pull her back, but Bonnie was too strong. The doctor went for Bonnie. He wrapped his arms around her and tried to pull her away. Just then, the final drop from the hourglass slid into its chamber, and the jar exploded.
Glass shards flew to all sides of the room, knicking both Arthur and his daughter. A little sliver of blood rolled down the child’s pudgy red cheeks. Arthur went through the door just as tentacles of fire leaped out from the burning orb that was left where the jar had been. These snakey strings curved and slithered through the air as though possessed of their own mind. They wrapped around Bonnie and Ethel and the doctor.
Arthur found himself on the curb, crouched and holding his child close to his chest. He felt a hand on his shoulder. It was Randall, alive but badly shaken. Behind him, the windows of the first floor apartment were engulfed by flames.
People were coming from the upper floors now. They were racing down the fire escape, through the black smoke and to the street. Randall pulled Arthur to his feet and led him away. Cinders settled in his hair and burned his scalp while the smoke seared his throat. He wasn’t sure where they was running to, only that they were running away.
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But wait, there's more! While you wait with baited breath for part 4, feel free to comment and resteem or just think of me kindly.
