seymoure

Chapter 31

Harry Dante

It was easy to remember, it was her second case ever.

She had spent the previous week cajoling a “Nester Spirit” (this is someone who has passed on who implants themselves into the body of someone or something that they held great passion for in life) out of a Candy Stripper on the geriatric ward of a mid-sized city hospital.

It seems Mr. Fredrics hadn’t had a family, or friends either and had imprinted himself on the young lady, much like a baby duck in a Tom & Jerry cartoon.

The woman, a 27 year old who wanted to be an actress someday, lived with her mother. The mother was the one who noticed a change when her daughter began smoking cheap cigars and betting on the horses. The last straw was when the girl was found sobbing uncontrollably on the floor of the World War I museum, with memories of battles the girl could not have known of, even if she had read about things like that.

So, after an opening success Harriet was called by her mother who was in panic about her father’s latest case.

As she drove to Springfield she told herself he was to old for this.

The man was born in 1922 and had been fighting the forces of darkness since that experience in Roswell in 1947.

Now he was in his mid 70’s and not in good health. He was over 30 years older than his wife and she had aged noticeably because of the horrors that the man she loved had survived.

“Hey, Kiddo,” her father greeted her with a huge smile on his face, and a bit of confusion, “Whatcha’ doin’ here?”

“Mom called me,” She said with disapproval fuming from her, “She said you were in too deep, and weren’t you going to retire anyway?”

He hugged her, possibly in the hopes this would warm her, but mostly because he hadn’t seen her in almost 3 months. “Kiddo (he always called the people he loved “Kiddo”) I can’t just sit around and watch Basch slaughter thousands of innocent people.”

“You should get help,” She told him, “You have taught scores of people who can do this job. Why didn’t you call me?”

He smirked, chuckled just a bit, and then said, “I kinda’ knew Flower would do it for me.”

Flower was the name her mother had in her hippie days when they had met. There was a decided twinkle in his eye when he spoke her name.

“What’s the situation?” She asked.

“You know Basch, right? He said.

“4^th Century French sorcerer, captured in his 5^th incarnation by the Spanish Inquisition and driven insane. Has it out for everyone who even has ever visited a church. Incredibly powerful, almost limitless demon following, and possible ties to ultimate evil, i.e. Lucifer himself,” Harriet summed up.

“That’s it in a nutshell, but there is a new wrinkle,” he said as he removed the fedora he’d wore for the last 50 years.”

There was a pause as he took out a red bandana and wiped the sweatband in the hat and then put it back on his head.

“Yes…?” She pushed.

“He has gotten hold of some Russian Nukes to play with.”

“What?”

“A couple of insane scientists, who took that ‘opium of the masses’ stuff more to heart than even I did.”

Harriet knew her father was a well known Agnostic, something that rankled every Priest over the decades who couldn’t pull of an exorcism and had to call him in. He was a powerfully faithful man, but he believed in spirituality, not buildings.

“Sprituality plus Politics is how you get Religion,” was his single Barlett’s Quotation. When it had come out he had a secret smile that no one really understood. When asked he would just say, “Just wondered how a friend of mine would react to me being in the book.”

“Just what kind of firepower are we talking about?” his daughter said, while she tried to hold back just a smidge of hysteria.

“Eight, each of which is 10 times more mega-tonnage than the Hiroshima bomb,” He said though gritted teeth, “And he has gathered enough angry black magic users and demonic aides to send them instantly to eight points on the globe. He is going to gather them together tomorrow night at that park right over there,” he said, pointing.

She felt a private sinking in her heart.

That park was a big part of a wonderful youth. Built on a slight hill, it was just above the neighboring land. It was almost as though it had a moat around it before the streets and houses around.

She remembered the joy every summer morning when a dense fog would be every wherein town. She would jump up and run to the park. She could explode out of the fog and onto an island apart from the world. No one else would be at the park so it was her own world. Except when her father or mother would join her, and that was alright too.

She would have loved a world with just the three of them.

She was the only kid she know that had really cool parents, and found her schoolmate less than stimulating.

“So, what time are we going in?”

“Well, Kiddo, we should get up early and take out the opposition as they arrive,” She nodded in agreement as he continued, “So I’d say we could have some of that great lamb stew your mother is cooking up, have a fair night’s sleep and get to the park by 6:00am?”

“With those little caramelized carrots?” She said, lost in a moment of culinary nostalgia.

He clapped her on the back and they walked back to the house.

It was obvious to Harriet that Bausch had picked this spot for two reasons. First it was one of the most remote locations that could still be reachable quickly by the American participants. Secondly, it was personal. Her father had been stopping Bausch’s plots for 20 years, and this was a challenge to him.

Together the three of them had as glorious a dinner as she could remember ever having. There was good food, good music and great talk.

They adjourned early and she slept in her old bedroom, after having the usual impossible time saying goodnight. Her father finally gave up and went up, while Harriet and her mother talked for another hour.

She closed her eyes and, despite the promise of a horrific battle in the morning, went to sleep with a smile on her face.

That was the last time she saw her parents.

A dawn her parents, Bausch and all the other bad guys were gone and never heard from again.

The park was replaced with a crater that was nearly as large as the hole in her heart.

Link to Chapter 1
Continue on to Chapter 32