Clive Barker - The Great and Secret Show

"Where's my daughter?" the man said. "Where's Jo-Beth?"

"I think she's in the house."

"Go fetch her for me, will you?"

"In a minute."

"Now!"

"I want to see you first. I want to know this isn't a trick."

The stranger laughed.

"Already I hear my voice in you," he said. "I've had tricks played on me, too. It makes us cautious, yes?"

"Yes."

"Of course you must see me," he said, stepping out of the trees. "I am your father. I am the Jaff."

As Jo-Beth reached the bottom of the stairs she heard Momma call from her room.

"Jo-Beth? What's happening?"

"It's all right, Momma."

"Come here! Something terrible...in my sleep..."

"A moment, Momma. Stay in bed."

"Terrible—"

"I'll be back in a while. Just stay where you are."

He was here, in the flesh: the father Tommy-Ray had dreamed of in a thousand forms since he'd realized that other boys had a second parent, a parent whose sex they shared, who knew men's stuff, and passed it down to their sons. Sometimes he'd fantasized that he was some movie star's bastard, and that one day a limo would glide up the street and a famous smile step out and say exactly what the Jaff had just said. But this man was better than any movie star. He didn't look like much, but he shared with the faces the world idolized an eerie poise, as though he was beyond needing to demonstrate his power. Where that authority came from Tommy-Ray didn't yet know, but its signs were perfectly visible.

"I'm your father," the Jaff said again. "Do you believe me?"

Of course he did. He'd be a fool to deny a father like this.

"Yes," he said, "I believe you."

"And you'll obey me like a loving son?"

"Yes, I will."

"Good," the Jaff said, "so now, please fetch me my daughter. I called her but she refuses to come. You know why..."

"No."

"Think."

Tommy-Ray thought, but no answer immediately sprang to mind.

"My enemy," the Jaff said, "has touched her."

Katz, Tommy-Ray thought: he means that fuckwit Katz.

"I made you, and Jo-Beth, to be my agents. My enemy did the same. He made a child."

"Katz isn't your enemy?" Tommy-Ray said, struggling to put this together, "he's your enemy's son?"

"And now he's touched your sister. That's what keeps her from me. That taint."

"Not for long."

So saying Tommy-Ray turned and ran back to the house, calling Jo-Beth's name in a light, easy voice.

Inside the house, she heard his call and was reassured. It didn't sound like he was suffering. He was at the yard door by the time she stepped into the kitchen, arms spread across its width, leaning in, grinning. Wet with sweat, and almost naked like this, he looked like he'd just run up the beach.

"Something wonderful," he grinned.

"What?"

"Outside. Come with me."

Every vein in his body seemed to be bulging from his skin. In his eyes was a gleam she didn't trust. His smile only deepened her suspicion.

"I'm not going anywhere, Tommy..." she said.

"Why are you fighting?" he asked, cocking his head. "Just because he touched you it doesn't mean you belong to him."

"What are you talking about?"

"Katz. I know what he did. Don't be ashamed. You're forgiven. But you have to come and apologize in person."

"Forgiven?" she said, her raised voice encouraging the ache in her skull to new mischief. "You've got no right to forgive me, you asshole! You of all—"

"Not me," Tommy-Ray said, the smile unwavering. "Our father."

"What?"

"Who art outside—"

She shook her head. The ache was getting worse.

"Just come with me. He's in the yard." He left off holding the door frame and started across the kitchen towards her. "I know it hurts," he said. "But the Jaff'll make it better."

"Keep away from me!"

"This is me, Jo-Beth. This is Tommy-Ray. There's nothing to be afraid of."

"Yes there is! I don't know what, but there is."

"You think that because you've been tainted by Katz," he said. "I'm not going to do anything to hurt you, you know that. We feel things together, don't we? What hurts you hurts me. I don't like pain." He laughed. "I'm weird but I'm not that weird."

Despite her doubts, he won her over with that argument, because it was the truth. They'd shared a womb for nine months; they were half of the same egg. He meant her no harm.

"Please come," he said, extending his hand.

She took it. Immediately the ache in her head subsided, for which she was grateful. In place of the chatter, her name, whispered.

"Jo-Beth."

"Yes?" she said.

"Not me," said Tommy-Ray. "The Jaff. He's calling you."

"Jo-Beth."

"Where is he?"

Tommy-Ray pointed to the trees. They were suddenly a long way from the house now; almost at the bottom of the yard. She wasn't quite sure how she got so far so quickly, but the wind that had toyed with the curtains now had her in thrall, ushering her forward, it seemed, towards the thicket. Tommy-Ray let his hand slip from hers.

Go on, she heard him say, this is what we've been waiting for...

She hesitated. There was something about the way the trees moved, their foliage churning, which reminded her of bad sights: a mushroom cloud, perhaps; or blood in water. But the voice that came to coax her was deep and reassuring, and the face that spoke it—visible now—moved her. If she was going to call any man father, this would be a good man to choose. She liked his beard and his heavy brow. She liked the way his lips shaped the words he spoke with a delicious precision.

"I'm the Jaff," he said. "Your father."

"Really?" she said.

"Really."

"Why are you here now? After all this time?"

"Come closer. I'll tell you."

She was about to make another step when she heard a cry from the house.

"Don't let it touch you!"

It was Momma, her voice raised to a volume Jo-Beth would never have believed her capable of. The shout stopped her in her tracks. She turned on her heel. Tommy-Ray was standing directly behind her. Beyond him, coming across the lawn barefoot, her nightgown unbuttoned, was Momma.

"Jo-Beth, come away from it!" she said.

"Momma?"

"Come away!"

It was almost five years since Momma had stepped out of the house; more than once in that time she'd said she'd never leave it again. Yet here she was, her expression all alarm, her cries not requests but commands.

"Come away, both of you!"

Tommy-Ray turned to face his mother. "Go inside," he said. "This is nothing to do with you."

Momma slowed her approach to a walk.

"You don't know, son," she said. "You can't begin to understand."

"This is our father," Tommy-Ray replied. "He's come home. You should be grateful."

"For that?" Momma said, her eyes huge. "That's what broke my heart. And it'll break yours too if you let it." She stood a yard from Tommy now. "Don't let it," she said softly, reaching out to touch his face. "Don't let it hurt us."

Tommy-Ray dashed Momma's hand away.

"I warned you," he said. "This is nothing to do with you!"

Momma's response was instant. She took a step towards Tommy-Ray and struck him across the face; an openhanded slap which echoed against the house.

"Stupid!" she yelled at him. "Don't you know evil when you see it?"

"I know a fucking lunatic when I see one," Tommy-Ray spat back. "All your prayers and talk of the Devil...You make me sick! You try and spoil my life. Now you want to spoil this. Well, no way! Poppa's home! So fuck you!"

His display seemed to amuse the man in the trees; Jo-Beth heard laughter from him. She glanced round. He had apparently not anticipated her glance because he'd let the mask he was wearing slip a little. The face she'd found so fatherly had swelled; or something behind it had. His eyes and forehead were enlarged; the bearded chin, and his mouth, which she'd thought so fine, almost vestigial. Where her father had been was a monstrous infant. She cried out at the sight of him.