Dagger Key and Other Stories

You’ve got a feeling of prickly numbness in your left foot, sciatic damage from the old car accident, and you react to this with a noise that, it appears, she assumes to be a sign of disapproval.

Exasperated, she says, “Do you remember the conversation we had months ago? I told you I wanted you to accept that I knew some things you didn’t?”

“Yeah.”

“I knew this would happen in late two-thousand-and-four. I didn’t know what form it would take, but I knew where, more-or-less, and I knew it would involve water. In two-thousand-and-eight there’ll be a second cataclysmic event. Much worse than this. In Latin America, I think. It’ll involve the earth. Maybe a quake…I’m not sure. From that point on, there’ll be a string of disasters, all coming close together. In two-thousand-twelve…it ends.”

“The disasters end?”

“Everything ends. I can’t explain it. I could make up a story that would present an explanation, but no matter how hard I tried to be truthful, it would be so far off the mark, it might as well be a lie. I could tell you I’ve seen it happen, but how I’ve seen it, it’s too diffuse to explain. What you said about me not being protected like most people? That’s more accurate than you know. I’ve exposed myself to a force that…” She clicks her teeth in frustration. “If I could explain it to anyone, I’d explain it to everyone. All I can do at this point is try to remedy it.”

“This remedy,” you say, recalling Sessions and his books. “Does it have anything to do with time?”

“Yes, partly. And the Tantra…and other things.” She gives you a sharp look. “How did you know?”

You’re tempted to lie, but can’t come up with one that would be persuasive. “I talked to Nathan Sessions.”

“Nathan? How did you…?” She breaks off. “You looked at my client list.”

“I needed to know what was going on. You wouldn’t tell me, so…yeah.”

“What did Nathan tell you?”

You’re astounded that she’s not furious. You report the conversation, as best you can recall it.

“I should have trusted you,” she says. “If I had, you might not know much more, but you’d be more grounded in the ritual.”

“Us having sex, you mean? That’s part of it?”

“An important part. Your body’s the launching pad that makes everything I’m going to do possible.”

You don’t particularly like being characterized as a launching pad, but you let it pass. “Then do I have to prepare, too?”

“I’m going to fix a special tea that’ll help you be more receptive.”

“It’ll get me in the mood, huh?”

She smiles at your joke, takes a pause, and then says, “You’re worried about a mistake, but I won’t make one. I won’t hurt you.”

“You’ve made mistakes before?”

“Things haven’t always gone the way I wanted them to, but I didn’t know as much as I do now. You’ll be safe, I promise.” She worries her lower lip. “I can’t walk you through this. There’s too much for you to learn and I don’t have time to teach you. What I need now is for you to trust me.”

“Okay, but…”

She sits up straight, hands in her lap, face neutral, her pre-annoyance pose. “What?”

“I still don’t get why you can’t explain it better.”

“I don’t know what more to tell you. I’ve given you the basics. I could give you some specifics, but without any context they’d be meaningless. If I told you there’s a power out there that hates mankind, that derives pleasure from tormenting and torturing us, deceiving us, fooling us so completely that millions, maybe billions of people worship it, and now it’s tired of us and it’s getting ready to close the show…would that help?”

“It sounds like you’re talking about God.”

“It’s got lots of names. That’s one of them, for sure. Legion’s another. But what’s that tell you?”

“You’re saying God, the creator-of-the-universe God, he made all this just so he could have someone to screw with?”

“I don’t pretend to understand its motives, and that’s probably an oversimplification, but that’s how it seems. If you look at the world, anyone rational would conclude that God’s the ultimate villain. Cruel and uncaring. Vicious, whimsical. Trouble is, God’s got this great PR department. Anytime anyone jumps up and says that, thousands of idiots start preaching about you’ve got to have faith, mysterious ways, his master plan, all that crap. You’ve got to trust in God, they say. So what if he sponsors rape, usury, genocide, cancer? You can’t see his real intentions, they say. You can’t know him. You just have to trust him. What I’m saying is this. You can know God, you can learn to see him, to detect his hand in things. And once you do, you discover that your original impression of indifference and cruelty, that was the correct one. And once you reach that point, you begin to be able to understand how to thwart him.” Abi rests her hand atop yours. “Does that help?”

You think it has helped, but now that she’s stopped talking, now that her words have become merely words in your head, without her conviction to back them up, they seem generic, lacking solid foundation.

“The disasters,” you say. “You’re going to stop them? Just you?”