Uncle Arber's Hat -- Conclusion

The thing was all hair and teeth and yellow eyes.  Behind it, the fog was a solid wall of gray.   The monster’s amber gaze swept the room, locking on him.  It spoke, its voice an unintelligible parody of human speech, but the thing’s malevolence was palpable, and David’s hair stood on end.  

The hat tightened its grip and electricity rose in his spine.  Had this thing been responsible for the explosion at his father’s home?  Had it murdered Garth and his family? 

Pain shot through David’s arms.  In an instant, his hands weighed twenty pounds each, maybe more.  He tore his eyes away from the monster.  His hands had grown huge, flesh and bone had become massive granite clubs.

“Stay back, David,” Faye yelled.  Her rolled-up magazine lengthened.  It shone like a piece of the sun.  The air crackled with energy as she advanced on the creature, swinging the flaming rod.  The creature lunged at Faye, and the warded doorway became a curtain of light.  

Bellowing in obvious pain, the monster forced its arm through the curtain, grabbed Faye’s wrist, and bent her arm back.  She gasped and tried to twist away, but the monster’s grip held.  It pulled her close.  

“Duck!” Josie shouted.

“I can’t!  It’s holding me…  Like a shield.”

David’s vision focused down to a tunnel.  He brought up his fists and advanced.  He swung, first one then the other.  The curtain of light parted for him and both blows landed on the beast.  It bellowed again and staggered back into the fog-shrouded vestibule.

Faye wrenched free.  Flame shot from Josie’s outstretched fingers and raked the monster.  David strode past the threshold.  Behind him, the women yelled, but he was beyond hearing, beyond caring what happened to him.  He swung his fists like the massive clubs they had become.  Every punch landed, and David forced the monster back until it stood, pressed against the railings.  

David swung again, pouring all his strength into the blow.  At the last instant, the creature lashed out with a clawed foot.  The world vanished behind a blinding wall of light.  The monster’s foot struck the light.  It screamed in agony.  Sparks cascaded and David stumbled back, dizzy but unhurt; his hands once again merely hands.

Faye dragged him into the apartment as Josie drove lances of fire into the monster.  It bellowed again and collapsed into a cloud of greasy, foul-smelling smoke.  The wind gusted, driving away the fog and rending the cloud into streamers that blew into the cold, rainy morning.

Down in the parking lot, the emergency response team continued their investigation, apparently unaware of the battle that had just taken place.  Josie kicked the door shut.  She bent at the waist and pressed her hands against the broken latch.  Bright light pulsed, burning David’s eyes.  Josie backed off, rubbing her hands together vigorously.  The latch was again whole.

“We need to remember to set the deadbolt too,” she said.  “All the time.”  She turned the handle, and the heavy bolt snicked into place.

Mr. Bettencourt, the next door neighbor, pounded on the shared wall.  “It’s Saturday morning, you morons!” the old man yelled, his voice muffled by the wall.  “You wanna hold it down in there?”

“Sorry, Mr. B!” David called.  “We’re fighting monsters from the pits of hell over here, but we’ll be quieter.”  

Laughter bubbled up, bringing hysteria with it.  He tried to stifle the laughter, tried to get a grip on himself, but it was no use.  He stumbled to the couch, took off his hat, and put his face in his hands.  The laughter collapsed into tears and, finally, uncontrollable sobs.  He grabbed a throw pillow to muffle it.  

Someone draped his grandmother’s afghan over David’s shoulders.  “That’s good, kiddo,” Faye said.  “Just let it out.  It’ll be better.”

Gradually, the sobs faded.  He lay on his side, trying to get control of his emotions.  He hiccuped for a while.  His family was gone.  No chance to reconcile with Garth.  Someone — or something — had tried to kill him by blowing up his car.  And sent a monster to his apartment.  The world had changed into something dangerous and strange.  It was too much to process all at once.

“Sorry,” he murmured and tried to sit up.

“Oh, please,” Faye said.  “You did nothing wrong…  Well, apart from trying to take down a spell-pumped garco by yourself, that is.  We need to work on your battle strategy.  But once you figure out how to control it, that hat of yours is going to be a big help.”

“What’s a garco?”

“That hairy thing with the claws?  That’s a garco.  They’re actually little rodents…  Kind of cute—”

“I don’t think I’d go that far,” Josie said.  “But they’re dangerous to insects, mostly.”

“But they eat a lot, so with the right spell,” Faye said, “you can pump ‘em up and sic them on somebody.”

“See what I mean?  I’m totally out of my element here.  I feel like I should take a leave of absence from work and go hide somewhere.”

“Hmmm… the LOA thing might not be a bad idea, but hiding?  Not so much… at least not by yourself.  They know who you are.  They’re good at finding people they’ve ID’d.”

“So who’s after me?  Who killed my brother and his family?  And why?”

Faye chewed on her lower lip.  “I don’t know.  None of this makes sense.”

Someone knocked on the door to the apartment.  David grabbed for his hat only to fumble it.  The hat rolled under his coffee table.  “Dang it,” he muttered as he dove for the hat.

“Chill, David,” Faye said.  “That’s not a monster.  I can usually tell, and the vibes aren’t right.”

“I’ll mute the wards and get the door,” Josie said.

David’s face felt hot as he collected his hat and sank back onto the sofa.  Josie opened the door.  Though their new visitor seemed very young, he wore a fancier uniform than the previous officer.  He held out a badge for them to see and introduced himself as Lieutenant Steven Parker. 

For the next hour, Lieutenant Parker asked questions.  The questions were elaborations of what Officer Ford had asked.  It felt like Parker hoped that if he asked the same question in enough different ways, David would remember something else or, perhaps, change his story, but that didn’t happen.  Instead, David grew more and more hungry and light-headed.  

Finally, he held up his hand.  “Excuse me, Lieutenant Parker.  My friends and I are wiped out.  We were up late, and none of us have had anything to eat.  We were on our way to get breakfast when somebody tried to blow me up.  Can you at least give us a few minutes to eat something?”

Parker apologized.  He offered David his business card, which was quite a bit nicer than Officer Ford’s.  “Call that number as soon as you can.  We’ve swabbed for explosives downstairs.  The crew will haul your vehicle to a salvage yard.  You should receive a copy of our report within five business days.  You’ll need that for your insurance, though honestly, I doubt they’ll pay anything, given the fact that it was a deliberate attack.”

“My car…  Crap.  I’d sort of forgotten.  It’s going to be hard to get around… to get to work.”

“Actually, Mr. Dellarosa, I recommend that you take a leave of absence until we make more progress with the case.  You should keep a low profile, perhaps stay with family for a—”

David’s stomach lurched.  “I have no family, remember?” he snapped.  “Not after yesterday.”

The young lieutenant grimaced.  “Again, I’m sorry, sir.  Your feelings must be pretty raw right about now.”

Faye, who was sitting next to David on the sofa, clutched his hand and squeezed hard.  David bit down on his words.  Josie saw Lieutenant Parker to the door.  

“We’ll be in touch, Mr. Dellarosa,” Parker said as he left.

Josie closed the door and set the deadbolt.  “Sit tight,” she said as she headed for the kitchen, “I’ll get us something to eat.”

*     *     *

David dried the last plate and put it away.  Faye and Josie sat on the sofa, heads together, muttering.  They had a pad and a couple of pens and they took turns jotting notes.

Faye looked up as he tossed the dish towel onto the counter.  “Good,” she said, “you’re done.  The clock’s ticking.  We have six hours to sundown.  Let’s get on with it.”

“What, me worry?” he asked, trying to lighten the mood a little.

His heart lurched as Josie turned a positively feral grin his way.  “You don’t know the half of it, mister,” she said.

Part Five

Late in the afternoon, Josie ordered take out, and despite everything, he felt a little better after getting some food in his stomach.  But as the hours passed without incident, he felt more and more on edge.  He began to pace.

It was just past 1:00 a.m. when Faye, who had been sitting on a straight-backed chair with her eyes closed, suddenly opened her eyes and stood.  “Calm, David.  I realize you’re keyed up; we all are.  But I need you to sit still,” she said.

His tension spiked, and it took all his self control to hide his worry.  He puffed out a sigh.  “I feel like I should be doing something.  And I’m torn between hoping to get this confrontation, or whatever it is, over with and praying that nothing happens at all.”

For over an hour, Josie had stood absolutely still with her back to the wall.  Suddenly she sucked in a sharp breath and lifted her chin.  She turned her head left and right, sniffing the air.  He’d never seen her appear so serious, so fierce.  “Whatever-it-is, it’s out there,” she whispered, “circling.  Probing.” 

“How can you tell?” David asked.  

She gestured for silence.  “We need deeper shadows.  Turn down the lights.”

David did a quick pass through the apartment.  He turned off all the lights save the small one over the kitchen stove. 

“Good,” Josie hissed and stepped into the darkest spot in the room, the hall that led to the bathroom.

Faye pulled in a deep breath and closed her eyes.  After a few seconds, she exhaled slowly through her nose.  David wanted to ask her what she was doing.  He wanted to know who or what Josie had perceived, but he clenched his jaw on the questions.  

Gradually, Faye faded from view.  Her chair appeared empty.  Though he sensed his friends’ presence, David felt alone.  Exposed.

He twitched with pent-up energy, but pacing messed up Josie and Faye’s concentration.  He leaned against the wall next to his TV and tried to emulate Josie’s stillness.  At least the effort provided some mental focus.

The silence took on a palpable sense of menace.  His skin crawled with it.  A huge thud out on the balcony made him jump.  Heart hammering, he edged closer to the front wall of the apartment.  As he reached for the blinds, Faye appeared at his side.  She shook her head and tugged on his arm, drawing him away from the window.

The window shattered and blew in, ripping the blinds away.  Something darker than shadow flowed over the sill.  The darkness pooled near the center of the room.  David’s hat shifted, snugging down and gripping his head.  Energy lit up his spine.

There was a low chuckle, something malignant and dangerous.  The darkness sloughed away.  Skin pale and glowing, Garth emerged.  He loomed, nearly seven feet tall, hands on his hips, leering.

David swayed as he fought to stay on his feet.  It wasn’t Garth; it couldn’t be.  The cop had said Garth had been killed.  Anyway, Garth had been big, but he’d been overweight.  Dumpy and soft.  Nothing like this specter.  

As if reading David’s mind, the thing that resembled his brother threw back its head and laughed.  “Oh, it’s me all right, Davey.  I can take this form after the sun goes down.  Impressive, isn’t it?  If you weren’t so stupid, you’d be scared.  Real scared.”

“I don’t understand.  How?”

Power rippled the air around Garth.  “I hate my daytime shape.  Detest it.  But when the sun sets, I come into my power.”  Garth’s gaze sharpened.  He pointed at David.  “Take off the hat, Davey.  Do it now.”

Garth’s words battered him, making him take a step back.  His hands drifted toward the brim of Uncle Arber’s hat.  He shook his head, made fists of his hands, and forced them down to his sides.  Where were Faye and Josie?

“But you… Your family… The police said—”

“The police are idiots.  Emily and Kevin are at a hotel in Visalia.  Waiting for me to tie up a few loose ends… You being first and foremost on the list.”

“But there was an explosion.  Multiple fatalities.  Those were your friends!  Dad’s neighbors…”

Garth shrugged his massive shoulders.  “Collateral damage.  And camouflage.  We needed cover for our disappearing act.  Given a hot enough fire and a little magic, well, let’s just say identification will be spotty at best.  But I digress.  Take off the hat, Davey.  Drop it on the floor.”

“Why?”

“You were supposed to take it… Take all that crap to the dump.  That was the whole point of letting your miserable life continue.  I’ve waited a long time for this.  Too long.”

Something told him that every second he could delay was to his advantage.  “You already have Dad’s estate.  Why are you doing this?  What do you get out of it?”

“Power, Davey.  From Father’s line.  From my mother’s line.” 

“What’re you talking about.  We’re siblings!”

“Hardly.  Your mother’s power faded after your birth.  And Father detested her for it.  Detested her entire family — especially Uncle Weirdo.  Take off the goddamned hat, Davey.  I’m losing patience.”

“We had different mothers?”

Garth sputtered, half laughing and half angry.  “You are so incredibly stupid.  Of course we had different mothers.  Ever see any pictures of her holding me as a child?  Ever see her touch me even?  She knew better than that.  Father made sure of it.”

“I’m sorry, Garth, that you never felt the touch of—”

“Shut up!  She was weak.  You’re weak.  Father never should’ve tried to cross bloodlines.  Take off the hat.  Throw it on the floor.  NOW!”

Mr. Bettencourt pounded on the wall.  “Noise in the morning.  Yelling in the middle of the night.  I’m calling the cops!”

Garth jerked in surprise, and in that instant, Faye and Josie struck.  Fire lanced the darkness, hitting him from both sides.  He collapsed under their onslaught and dropped to his knees.

But Garth was not done.  Little by little, he shook off the effects of their magic.  He flung out his hands, turning their blows aside.  Their power sputtered out, and he lunged to his feet.  

Garth took a step toward David.  Another.  “I can’t touch the hat, Davey.  That rat bastard Arber made sure of it.  But I can sure-as-hell wring your lousy neck.  I’ll use your skinny ass to pound it flat.  And I’ll flay you alive and use your bleeding skin to wrap the hat so I can take it into the desert and burn it.  And I won’t bother to describe what I’ll do to your girlfriends, but you can be sure I’ll enjoy it.  Let your imagination fill in the gaps.”

No!  Faye and Josie had put their lives on the line to help him.  He couldn’t let Garth hurt them.  What could he do?  David’s hands and arms tingled, but there was no spell.  No transmutation of flesh to stone.  No shield of blinding light.  Garth took another step.  His brother’s hands were inches away.  

Faye and Josie struck again, forcing Garth to retreat.  But he bore the brunt of their strikes, his expression pained but unrelenting.  Soon they’d grow tired.

Where was the magic that had come to David’s aid before?  He’d practiced all day under his friends’ guidance.  Had he used up all his power?  Had it faded under the weight of Garth’s hatred?  

Garth laughed again, louder this time.  He made a fist and gestured.  David felt a blow that staggered him.  

Next door, Mr. Bettencourt continued to pound and yell, his words muffled but fierce.  Far from distracting Garth, the old neighbor’s anger seemed to amuse him.  Another blow rocked David back.

Desperate, he imagined his power flowing toward Faye and Josie.  He hadn’t the skill to engage Garth directly, but his strength might bolster his friends enough to make a difference.  Josie and Faye struck again, and this time their hits knocked Garth flat.

David’s power flowed to his friends.  He grew weak, too weak to stand, but he didn’t care.  He knelt on the floor, and their combined efforts seemed to be working.  Garth was shrinking, shriveling in on himself.  

He kept pushing his energy toward Faye and Josie, and it helped, but in the end, it wasn’t enough.  David toppled over, falling onto his side, conscious but unable to move.  Faye’s blows sputtered and flickered out.  A second later, Josie’s did the same.  Garth lay panting, visibly weaker but still alive.

Slowly, painfully, Garth pulled himself together.  Blood dripped from his mouth, and his eyes were shriveled grey orbs.  He shook himself like a wet dog.  Malign will flowed from him, soaking into David, making everything feel futile.  David’s breath came in gasps.  

“You’re weak,” Garth panted.  “You always were weak, you sniveling, little—”

The door banged open, and light flared, dazzling David’s eyes.  He squinted.  It was Mr. Bettencourt.  The old man wore slippers and was wrapped in a tartan bathrobe.  His gaze swept the room.

“Kids these days,” he snapped.  “You don’t know a damn thing about taking out evil sorcerers.”  He snapped his fingers and muttered a string of angular syllables.  Garth gasped, twitched a couple of times and collapsed.  His body shriveled, leaving behind a ragged, fist-sized stone.  

Sirens moaned, growing closer by the second.  Mr. Bettencourt fixed them with a rheumy glare.  “Tell the cops that someone tried to kick your door in.  There’s scuff marks to prove it.  And show ‘em the rock.  Say it broke the window.  If the cops leave it, throw the rock in the sea.” 

Faye and Josie, both looking the worse for wear, helped David stand.  “Um… Thanks, Mr. Bettencourt,” he managed.

“You’re welcome.  Now let an old man get some rest, will you?”  He started to turn away only to jerk slightly.  He stood up straighter, his gaze sharpened, and he jabbed a gnarled finger at David.  “Where’d you get that hat?” he asked.

“It belonged to my great uncle.  Why?”

“That wouldn’t be Arber Nikolia would it?”

“Yeah.  Great Uncle Arber.   He—”

“Well I’ll be a…  Try to stay out of trouble for a few hours, children.  I’ll be in touch.  We have work to do.”

***** End *****

Copyright © 2021, Michael C. Glaviano.  All rights reserved.