CHAPTER 15
Later in the apartment living room I watched Benny as he sat counting the money with methodical technique.
The artificial good nature had been left in Jack’s Panic and upon returning an atmosphere of sombre reality set in around me. It was not so much that I felt guilty for stealing the money as I felt strangely tainted for misleading the players, a sensation similar to the guilt associated with peeping in on a woman as she changed. A sort of personal dislike for actions performed.
It was true that the manipulation did not sit anywhere near what I had done to Claudia, but still a pang of guilt lingered.
“Never again.” I had boldly declared.
I attempted to push the guilt aside, telling myself that I had had very little choice. It had needed to be done and I did it. Circumstance negated moral obligation. That sounded logical, but Linda’s face swam back into my mind.
“How are we looking?” I asked Benny.
“Looks to be just over five hundred,” he replied, placing the bank notes into piles.
I attempted to detect any feelings of guilt on his part and found none. In fact, if anything the way his fingers expertly handled the money spoke of triumph.
“I’m feeling pretty shitty about this,” I said.
He glanced up, but his hands never stopped working. “I know, Jet. It’s a dirty thing we just did, there’s no denying it. But they all would have likely lost this money tonight regardless. It just happened to be to us.”
“Or they might have won this money. But lost it to us because we cheated.”
“When you walk into a place like that you’re announcing that you are ready to lose money. If you want to hang on to your money, don’t venture into such places. It’s as easy as that. We just capitalised on a situation those men had all willingly put themselves into.”
“That’s flimsy justification and you know it.”
“Justification? It’s just the world we live in,’ he said sharply, “And I happened to come out on top today. I’m not forcing you to do this. You agreed of your own free will.”
“Brent’s life.”
“Yes, Brent’s life.” He sighed. “I don’t know what to tell you, Jet. I’m sorry you’re in this position. We both are. It’s done. Let’s just be grateful it went so smoothly. You did good back there and it’s for a good cause.”
The room fell back into silence and I stood, wondered over to the balcony and gazed off over the city, hoping to find solace in the calming view.
A strange thing occurred then. For the briefest of moments I caught a glimpse of my own reflection in the window, a mirrored effect created by the interior light contrasted by exterior darkness. The sight triggered a cold reality to roll in, brought on by mental denial finally collapsing. I would be facing my demon tomorrow morning.
The bottom dropped out of my stomach and all at once, I had never felt quite so lonely.
An overwhelming need gripped me. I wanted to call my mother; to hear her voice and have her tell me it was okay. My initial reaction was that the remnants of a spell were still holding tight, urging me to return to the woman who had manipulated my mind in countless ways. But upon honest reflection, I admitted that I just missed the woman who had raised me.
“I’m facing my demon tomorrow,” I said without turning.
Behind me the sounds of crinkling bank notes finally ceased.
“What?” There was a note of genuine concern in his voice. “Tomorrow?”
“Yes.”
“Damn it, Jet, that’s huge. Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Not sure. Didn’t think it was relevant.”
“You didn’t think it was relevant?” He put down the money and leaned back, an action I watched via its reflection in the window. “Forgive me for saying so, but you may not be grasping the magnitude of this event.”
“No I grasp it. Trust me.”
He paused and thought, then continued in a tone that was alarmingly strange. Strange for Benny, at least, and at first I couldn’t place my finger on the source of this peculiarity.
“I first learned about my own demon,” he began, “around about the time I turned twenty-three. I didn’t know back then the first thing about demons and magic, but what I did know was that a little girl seemed to be living in my closet. One day, as I dressed for work, I opened the cupboard door and found her looking back at me, all smiles and girly giggles. My initial reaction was to ignore her. Strange, I know, but it just seemed to be the right thing to do in a way I can’t really explain. I just pretended she wasn’t there. And furthermore part of me didn’t even believe she was there.”
His voice trailed off and I turned to find him staring blankly out the window. It dawned on me that he was dropping a carefully constructed façade for perhaps the first time. I was getting a glimpse at the man beneath.
“What happened then?” I prompted.
“She was always around,” he continued, “I would catch glimpses of her; peeping round the corner, sneaking past a doorway, sometimes even hiding under the bed. But still, I continued to be blissfully unaware, as though I had been forbidden to acknowledge the creature that was actively haunting me. Of course, she didn’t much appreciate being ignored. You’ve probably noticed the same from your demon?” He glanced at me and I nodded. “Well she didn’t enjoy it much either. First the little rapping noises from the bathroom. Later the rattling plates and swinging cupboard doors in the kitchen. Then at last the flickering lights and thumping in the ceiling.”
“They do love their ceilings,” I commented, more to let him know I was listening.
“The last straw was the giggling. You would hear it at the strangest times. In the bathroom, taking a shit, there was the giggling, as if she was just out of sight behind the shower curtain.” He stopped again, engrossed by the memories. “And it was about that time that Julia started to go postal. Longer than you’d think really, but I guess she was sort of committed to ignoring it in her own special way.”
“Julia?”
“My wife.”
“Right.”
I tried to envision the sort of woman who could have possibly endured the level of haunting Benny described. But then, as I remembered my previous observations about his apartment, I realised she had not endured it.
“I guess when she moved out, it sort of made the whole thing suddenly… real. You know? It just kind of came together in my head like some kind of insane puzzle. I nearly lost it then, Jet, I will not lie to you, I just about went completely bonkers. But I didn’t. Instead, I went for testing, then training. It saved my life in more ways than I care to explain.”
“What happened?”
He looked over at me and grinned, regaining a brief spark of his previous charismatic nature. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
“Try me.”
“Turns out, when I was seven I had a little crush on a girl named Bethany Clarkson. She gave me the cold shoulder and apparently that screwed me up in ways so deep it never left me.”
My eyebrows rose. “You’re shitting me.”
“I shit you not.”
“That’s your demon?”
He nodded. “That’s my demon. Well, there’s more to it than that. A string of failed relationships in high school, another string of them in college and, of course, the fact that each and every one of them failed because of my inability to feel secure.”
I reeled, stunned at a level of brutal honesty I never believed possible from a person like Benny.
As was his intention, I found myself reassured. His demon seemed rather trivial in comparison to my own deeply rooted issues, but part of me also acknowledged he was making light of a more significant series of events.
“Thanks,” I said.
“For what?”
“Telling me.”
“Sure. No problem.”
“Do you have any tips?”
“Tips?”
I shrugged, “For facing my demon, anything that might in
crease my chances of success?”
“It’s sort of personal for everyone, Jet. But if there is one thing you should keep in mind, be honest with yourself.”
“So Selena keeps telling me.”
The mention of her name made him frown. “Right, Selena.”
“Still worried about her?”
“Of course. Of course. Just…keep your eyes and ears open. Okay?”
“I will. What was she like? Before? You knew her when she was still an Enforcer, right?”
He paused and eyes glazed with memories. “She was the most anal Enforcer you could ever possibly hope to meet. Everyone else developed a sort of natural understanding of the job, realising that there was a grey area in the established laws. I mean, who in their right mind would prosecute a destitute old man for getting an artificial discount on his eggs, you know? Selena would. She never let one violation, no matter how small or conflicted, slip through the cracks. It was like she thought taking one step outside the established laws would somehow make her…”
“Less perfect.”
“Right, less perfect. I do remember one odd thing though. She had this poster in her office, completely out of place. A ballet dancer. This big, shiny poster of a ballet dancer.”
I nodded. The same poster from her dorm room, the same image of the glass statuette in the waiting room. Poor Selena; she worshiped her demon. Even if she wasn’t aware of it.
We lapsed into silence. Benny continued to gaze out the window over my shoulder.
“So where is she?” I asked softly.
“Who?”
“Julia. Your wife.”
For an agonising moment he hesitated.
Somehow I knew the answer before he said it, but hoped with every fibre of my body I was wrong.
“She’s dead now.”
But I was right. I wasn’t going to ask how and at that moment preferred not to know.
Again, we fell into silence.
“But hey, you’ll do fine!” He was suddenly back to his old self; loud and cheerful.
“Right. Sure. Well, I guess I better go get some sleep.”
“Yes. Probably.”
I turned and headed for my room.
“Hey, Jet?”
“Yes?”
“Good luck, Buddy.” Pause. “I’ll set up another poker game.”
“Okay.”
“I want to get Brent out alive. You know?”
“I know.”
With that, I headed to bed.
As I lay down and my head hit the pillow I felt my hand reach for the painkillers. There was no more need for justification as I fed two into my mouth. Half an hour later, with my expected euphoria seeming less than usual, I took two more, secretly hoping I could sleep forever.