Norman Partridge - The Ten-Ounce Siesta

Until now. She took the daintiest little sip of strychnine and said, “Maybe we should go ahead and take the little bastard to a vet.”

“Don’t blaspheme, woman.”

“Well, ain’t you the sanctimonious one all of a sudden? All I’m sayin’ is-”

“Still thy tongue, bitch!”

Mama did as Daddy ordered. But only because it was Daddy. Another man talked to her like that, she’d cut off his balls with a straight razor and feed them to him.

The desert heat cut through those cracks in the walls and set Daddy’s blood to boiling. It was too damn hot today, even for a Satanist. He lifted his silver cup and drained it of strychnine, but the poison did nothing to cool his unease.

His blue eyes burned beneath the sharp ledge of his brow as he scanned the chapel for an answer.

His gaze fell upon the inverted cross on the far wall. . bones bleached of flesh, and those that were not. . the old leather-bound books heaped upon a leaning bookshelf. . the potions and balms that were useless to him now.

Daddy Deke threw the silver goblet across the room and it banged against the weather-beaten door. The answers he required were beyond his reach.

Before he could find them, he needed to get right with Satan.

He needed to feel the dark one’s unholy power in his very grasp.

He needed to handle Cthulhu.

Eden ran through the bunker.

How could Harold do it? How could he give the Chihuahua to Daddy? How could he be so blind?

Harold just didn’t understand. She couldn’t blame him for that. He hadn’t grown up around Daddy and the snakes. He’d never seen Daddy try to heal the sick-

Eden had seen that. Mostly, Daddy’s spells worked. But sometimes-

And if this was one of those times. If it was already too late. If the dog had been bitten-

No. . no. .

If the ransom money slipped through their fingers. If they lost half a million dollars to a rattlesnake’s venom-

No!

Eden banged through the door and into the heat.

Oh, please, no. .

Illnesses were demons. This Daddy Deke knew. And Satan held sway over every demon. His power could pluck the little pissants from a body as easily as Eve had plucked the apple from that tree in the Garden. If a man truly believed, he could channel that power. He could master demons. He could hold sway on earth, just as Satan did in hell.

Daddy steeled himself to the notion. The door to Satan’s power covered a black box beneath his altar. With his right hand, he bent low and brought forth the box. It was hinged with gold and bore a knob of clear crystal.

Like Pandora of old, Daddy Deke feared not to open the box. He did this with his left hand, the hand he had given to Satan many years ago.

The dark one’s will would be done. Daddy Deke reached into the box with long bony fingers, giving himself over to the power of the Lord of Flies.

“Hail Satan!” Mama shouted.

Daddy stroked the rattlesnake. Corpse-cool flesh came alive beneath his fingers. Keeled scales rippled along the serpent’s thick body as it stirred, forked tongue flicking the hot air, yellow eyes alive with evil, slit pupils identical to those of serpents that had crawled the earth long before man trod upon it.

“Hail Lucifer!” Mama screamed.

Daddy drew the serpent from the black box. Nearly six feet in length and thick as a truck driver’s wrist, it was completely white save for those yellow slits that slashed its eyes.

A herpetologist would identify the serpent as Crotalus atrox, or an Albino Western Diamondback Rattlesnake. Daddy called it Cthulhu.

“The dark one is king!” Mama shed tears. “The dark one reigns omnipotent!”

On the altar, the Chihuahua began to whine. Fright shone in its brown eyes. It tried to rise on weak legs.

“Mama! Hold this beast!”

Mama placed her hands on the little dog and held it still. Cthulhu’s great tail encircled Daddy’s forearm. The snake’s enormous head writhed and twisted, facing Daddy, a white diamond made of flesh. Spike’s whine cut the silence, but Daddy ignored it. He stared into the serpent’s eyes, and he began to fall, and tumble, and spin. .

Mama cried, “Satan! Lucifer! Beelzebub! All one! All eternal!”

. . descending into yellow slits in eyes unblinking. And the heat of hell poured through those slits the same way the desert heat slashed through the cracks in the chapel walls, and Daddy was scorched by hellfire, and he burned in the pit, and when he began to rise anew the power was burning in his blood, blistering his flesh, because his eyes were yellow. . he knew they were. . he could feel it. His eyes were yellow slits and Satan was a comin’. .

SATAN WAS A COMIN’. .

SATAN WAS A COMIN'. .

. . AND SOON!

. . AND SOON!

Eden threw open the door. Mama screamed. The dog squirmed in her grasp. The great snake’s head hovered over it.

“Daddy,” Eden said. “No!”

Her father’s eyelids fluttered. He looked at his daughter as if she were a ghost. His blue eyes were glazed with ecstasy or fear. . and Eden didn’t know what to say, and for a millisecond all was silent.

Then came the dry cadence of Cthulhu’s rattle. The snake sprang, jaws spread wide, fangs glistening as they ripped Daddy’s cheek.

“No!” Mama screamed as she tore the serpent from Daddy’s face and flung it into the mine shaft.

Daddy collapsed on the floor and the Chihuahua scrambled away, escaping between Eden’s legs.

The dog scrambled past Harold, too. He gave chase, naked and pink under the hot Mojave sun.

Eden wore a robe. Nothing else. She ran to her father’s side. He studied her with that same strange expression on his face, as if he were looking at a ghost whose presence stirred anguish and fear and love. And then a great spasm rocked him, and his eyelids fluttered closed, and he sank into Mama’s arms like a sickly child.

“If he dies. I’ll kill you,” Mama said. “I’ll burn you down. I’ll rip your heart out.”

“Mama. . I’m sorry-”

“You’re always sorry!”

Eden started to cry.

“Don’t you dare do that in here!” Mama spit the words. “Don’t you dare shed tears in your daddy’s church!”

Eden couldn’t help it.

“You’re so weak!” Mama’s voice was ice. “You can’t be no daughter of mine!”

Shaking with unrestrained fury, Mama cradled Daddy Deke in her arms. “I never wanted you. But your daddy said it was prophetized that we have three babies. He said it was Satan’s will.”

Eden stumbled back as if shot. Unable to speak, she could only listen.

“If I had it to do over again I’d rip you from my belly with a coat hanger. That’s what I’d do. By Satan, I would.”

Eden turned to flee but it was much too late. Her foot tangled in the rib cage of a tramp Daddy had sacrificed three winters past. She couldn’t move a lick, but she had to. She had to escape before Mama could say another word.

She smashed the bones with her free foot and kicked the rib cage into a comer. Twisting toward the light, she nearly stumbled but righted herself at the last moment and pitched through the open door.

Into the desert.

She ran.

Harold was dressed now. Night had fallen.

“She still out there?” he asked.

“Yes.” Eden stared at Daddy’s chapel, absently stroking the Chihuahua’s head.

“This is fucked,” Harold said. “I don’t want to leave you here alone. But I gotta go out. I gotta call Angel Gemignani. I gotta do it from a pay phone. Otherwise they’ll trace the call. And I can’t take you with me, because the dog is sick and someone has to take care of it.” Harold punched the air. “This is fucked."

Eden said, “Yes, it is.”