 Curtis M. Lawson's debut collection is a menagerie of supernatural horror and weird fiction that drops imperfect characters into an uncaring universe, inhabited by malevolent deities. In these pages you will find devouring gods of the yawning abyss, Japanese demons who sway mortal souls, and digital hells of man’s own creation. Follow into the darkness and walk among the gods of the Black Pantheons. There is magic where they live, in the emptiness between the stars. Loni watched the horse through her binoculars. Shifting auroras reflected off its pearlescent mane, sending a cascade of prismatic brilliance across its ivory coat. Hands, smaller than Loni's own, held on to its silver reins. She found herself jealous of the other child riding the majestic creature. She yearned to be out in the nighttime summer air, bounding forward, up and down with each fluid stride. Her jealousy faded into anxiety as the horse rounded the bend and disappeared. Loni knew it was a foolish thought, but she feared it may never return. In less than a minute, it's white coat and pearl mane came back into view. Having the creature once again in her line of sight was enough to bring a smile to her face. Moments later, before it could make another lap, the horse slowed its pace and froze in mid gallop. A grownup came into Loni's binocular view, helping the child off the creature's back. Loni wondered who would ride it next. The sound of rubber on rubber from the seals around her bedroom door cut her thoughts short. The little girl rested her binoculars on her lap and turned her attention to her mother, who had just entered the room. "Hey sweetie. Time for bed," Loni's mother said with a sad smile that did not match her happy tone. Her mother's smiles were always sad. Loni knew that was her fault, despite what anyone said. She hoped her mother might be happy again, after she was gone. Loni stole one last glance with her binoculars before placing them on her nightstand. Her mother looked out the window, nodding her head in sympathy. "I know you really want to go to the carnival, baby," she said stroking Loni's auburn hair. "But that place is crawling with germs. It's too dangerous." "Everything is too dangerous," Loni replied with a pout. A crease came across her mother's brow. "That's not fair, Loni." "Nothing is fair," Loni snapped back. Loni's mother took a deep breath and sat down next to her. She placed her arm around the indignant child and pulled her close. "You're right. Everything is too dangerous and nothing is fair." Her mother's tone was sad and sincere. "But this is the hand we've been dealt, honey." Loni laid her head down in her mother's lap and took in the lights and sounds of the carnival across the street. The clang and bang of the rides, the wild music, and the excited screams of children- healthy children- filled her mind with wonder. "I don't want to be sick anymore, mommy," Loni said in a heartbreaking tone. "I don't want you to be sick anymore either, baby." With gentle hands, Loni's mother stroked her hair. The sadness and anger in her young heart did not vanish, but it softened at her mother's touch. She closed her eyes and exhaustion pulled her deep into the black. Loni's eyes shot back open of their own volition. Only seconds had seemed to have passed by, but her head now rested on her pillow rather than in her mother's lap. The strobing lights and the music of the carnival had been replaced by white flashes of lightning and crashing booms of thunder. Her room itself was dark, save for the single blue "on" light of her air purifier. Just outside of Loni's perfect, sterile environment, a beautiful thunderstorm raged and howled. Rain drops battered her window, tap-tap-tapping on the glass like a child on a sugar high. The glow from the moon and the street lights refracted in the rivulets of water streaming down her window, creating tiny auras of yellow and white. To Loni, they looked like bitsy fairies beckoning her outside. Careful to keep as quiet as possible, Loni crept out of bed and carried her binoculars to the window. The carnival was nearly lost between the darkness and the rain. What was visible looked even more magical beneath the cloak of the storm. The pirate ship which normally swung like a pendulum, now stayed its course as the storm raged about it. The Ferris wheel, too tall and proud to hide behind darkness or rain, swayed this way and that way against the winds. Bits of red canvas tents and giant, rainbow light bulbs would appear with each lightning strike, then vanish back into the night. Most important to Loni, she could see the carousel. Most of the steeds were invisible in the eventide storm. The emerald dragon, the powder blue unicorn, and all the other ostentatious animals seemed content to hide away in the wet darkness. Her horse though, the one with the subdued, snow white coat and wild, nacreous mane, stood out like a beacon in the black night. More called attention to the horse than just its stark contrast to the darkness surrounding it. It almost looked like it was moving with a life of its own. Loni brought the binoculars to her eyes and gazed out into the storm. Tiny rain drops grew into fat blurs. She twisted the focusing ring, and found the carousel. There on the circular platform, the white horse stood, no longer one with the golden post of the ride, but tied to it like a dog to a stake. It thrashed and pulled against its bondage, desperate for freedom. Despite the horse's struggle, the rope would not yield. She lowered the binoculars and rubbed her eyes. A few seconds passed and she brought them back to her face. Through the lenses Loni looked into the thrashing horse's eyes. The animal's intense, equine gaze seemed to call out to her for help. "I'm coming," she whispered. Loni did not wake her mother for help, nor did she change out of her pajamas. She didn't put on shoes, or a slicker, or anything remotely reasonable. No, the little girl simply left her room, barefoot and clad in thin cotton. Dressed as such she made her way. Loni ran on her tippy toes down the hardwood hallway, past her mother's room and toward the front door. She found herself wishing there was carpet to soften the sound of her steps, but carpets held dust, and mites, and germs- all the things normal kids never had to consider, but were anathema to sick little girls. Despite the sound of her tiny footsteps, Loni made it to the front door without incident. Her mother did not stir. With a trembling hand, she spun the deadbolt. It unlocked with a click that was both satisfying and frightening in its volume. Loni waited in stillness, sure that her mother would dash out of her room at the sound. A few moments passed though and Loni's mother did not appear. Letting out a deep breath, the little girl turned the lock on the knob and opened the door. Without giving it much thought, Loni crossed the threshold of her safe, sterile home and walked into the wild. Cool rain, and fierce wind battered Loni's clothes and skin. It felt nice. It felt free. Across the street, on the lot next to Saint Andrew's, was the carnival. It was asleep, under a blanket of storm and night. It was beautiful in its slumber. Loni closed the door behind her and stepped out onto the sidewalk. It was a different world on the other side of the threshold- a primal, wild world. Street signs shook and rattled on their poles. Newspapers flew like epileptic gulls. Somewhere beneath the din of the storm a horse whinnied and neighed. The little girl ran across the sidewalk and into the shallow stream that flowed across the asphalt beyond. Her small feet splished and splashed along as she rushed heedlessly across the street. With an amazing quickness, her thin pajamas became saturated and were plastered to her skin. She flung her head back, partly to get her wet hair out of her face, but more as gesture embracing the freedom of the moment. Saint Andrews, with its morbid, stone facade faded into the storm. For a moment, the cross upon the steeple stood out against a flash of lightning, but Loni payed it no mind. She had never understood the God and church thing. In her short life, she had never found prayer to help her condition nor faith to quench her fear. No, the macabre temple held nothing for her. What she wanted was just adjacent to God's house. The chain link fence around the carnival grounds was locked. A heavy chain twisted between two metal posts and came back unto itself with the help of a large padlock. Luckily for Loni, whoever had locked up for the night had not counted on an intruder of such slight size. There was a bit of slack in the chain and Loni wiggled one part of the gate until a space opened up, just big enough for her to squeeze past. She sucked in her stomach and wriggled through. A beautiful sort of melancholy enshrouded the carnival grounds. No glow radiated from the over-sized light bulbs that decorated the rides. Their colors were obscured by darkness, muted into varying, grayish hues. The fryolators, hot dog rollers, and popcorn machines stood cold and still. Not a hint of junk food nor the whisper of rock n' roll lingered in the air. These things had been replaced by the smell of ozone and the music of the storm. Loni walked past game booths that had been closed up for the night, the rain playing a steady beat on the aluminum grates that guarded their prizes. She continued between the sleeping giants of a Ferris wheel and roller coaster. The little girl's eyes did not stray to these sights. Instead they were set forward on the pale horse, struggling to free itself from the carousel. The other animals, all paired in twos as if the storm would last forty days and nights, sat quiet, dead-eyed, and complacent. The dragons held no fire, the unicorns no magic. Even the ebony, negative image twin of Loni's would-be steed sat motionless like a broken nag. They were sheltered and secure beneath the carousel's tent, and each seemed happy that way. The wild, ivory horse, by contrast, found no comfort in the confines of safety. Loni understood this. A smile crossed her face. Somewhere beyond the storm Loni thought she heard her mother call her name. She looked back toward her house to see the lights on in the windows. A thunderclap boomed along with a flash of lightning, cutting off her mother's cries. Loni turned away from her house and continued toward the gorgeous, desperate creature before her. A puddle the size of a small lake lay between her and the horse. With bold, carefree steps she half ran and half skipped forward. Water splashed up around her, higher than her head. Reaching the carousel, Loni placed a small hand on the horse's face. Its hair was soft and damp. Calm, reassuring whispers leapt from Loni's mouth to the horse's ear. The beast ceased its frantic struggle and brought its face down to her's. It nuzzled the little girl's cheek. Loni kissed its wet nose and wrapped her arms around its neck. A thick rope of braided gold tied the creature to the carousel. Loni reached up to a knot tied around a silver loop in the horse's saddle. With steady, patient hands she untied the rope, as easy as she would with a tangled bit of shoelace. "Loni!" Her mother's voice carried on the wind. There was terror and desperation in it. Hearing that tone in her mother’s voice pained her heart. The little girl looked back through the darkness and storm, back across the carnival grounds and toward her home. The lights were on in the windows. Warmth, love, and safety radiated out from her house- a gilded rope binding her to a sterile prison. Loni loved her mother, deeply and truly. She also knew that she didn't belong in that house any more than her horse belonged on this carousel. She wasn't a dead-eyed, plastic animal meant to last forever- neither of them were. They were living creatures, and they would live wild and free, if only tonight. She hoped her mother would learn to do the same. A quiet goodbye slipped from Loni's mouth as she placed a foot into the pale horse's stirrup.  Curtis M. Lawson's debut collection is a menagerie of supernatural horror and weird fiction that drops imperfect characters into an uncaring universe, inhabited by malevolent deities. In these pages you will find devouring gods of the yawning abyss, Japanese demons who sway mortal souls, and digital hells of man’s own creation. Follow into the darkness and walk among the gods of the Black Pantheons. There is magic where they live, in the emptiness between the stars.  Comments are closed.
|
Archives
April 2023
|
RSS Feed
|
|