Clive Barker - The Great and Secret Show

"You're not going to tell on us, are you?" said Tommy-Ray. He took a step towards William, eclipsing his colleague entirely.

"It's not that simple—" William began.

"Yes it is," said Tommy-Ray flatly. He took another step, and another, suddenly moving past William to the door, and slamming it. The sound excited Tommy-Ray's companion—or rather, his companion's companions—for William's eyes were now sufficiently accustomed to the murk to see that the bearded man slumped in the corner was swarming with creatures that bore a family resemblance to the centipede outside. They covered him like a living armor. They crawled over his face, lingering at his lips and eyes; they gathered around his groin, massaging him. They drank at his armpits, they cavorted on his stomach. There were so many of them his bulk was swelled to twice human size.

"Jesus Lord," said William.

"Unreal, huh?" said Tommy-Ray.

"You and Tommy-Ray know each other from way back, I hear," said the Jaff. "Tell all. Was he a considerate child?"

"What the hell is this?" William said, glancing back at Tommy-Ray. The youth's eyes gleamed as they roved.

"This is my father," came his reply. "This is the Jaff."

"We'd like you to show us the secret of your soul," said the Jaff.

Instantly, William thought of his private collection, locked up back at home. How did this obscenity know about that? Had Tommy-Ray spied on him? The peeper peeped upon?

William shook his head. "I don't have any secrets," he said softly.

"Probably right," said Tommy-Ray. "Boring little shit."

"Unkind," said the Jaff.

"Everybody says it," said Tommy-Ray. "Look at him, with his fucking bow ties and his little nods at everyone."

Tommy-Ray's words stung William. It was they as much as the sight of the Jaff which brought a tremor to his cheek.

"Most boring little shit in the whole fucking town," Tommy-Ray said.

In response the Jaff snatched one of the beasts from his belly and lobbed it at Tommy-Ray. His aim was true. The creature, which had tails like whips, and a minuscule head, fixed itself to Tommy-Ray's face, pressing its belly against his mouth. He lost his balance, toppling sideways as he clawed at the parasite. It came away from his face with a comical kissing sound, revealing Tommy-Ray's grin, which was echoed with laughter from the Jaff. Tommy-Ray tossed the creature back in its master's direction, a half-hearted throw which left the thing a foot from where William stood. He retreated from it, bringing a fresh sound of laughter from father and son.

"It won't harm you," the Jaff said. "Unless I want it to."

He called to the creature that he and the boy had made a game of; it skulked back to the comfort of the Jaff's belly.

"You probably know most of these folks," the Jaff said.

"Yeah," Tommy-Ray murmured. "And they know him."

"This one, for instance," the Jaff said, hauling a cat-sized beast from behind him. "This one came from that woman...what was her name, Tommy?"

"I don't remember."

The Jaff slid the creature, which resembled a vast bleached scorpion, around to his feet. The thing seemed almost shy; it wanted to retreat back to its hiding place.

"The woman with the dogs, Tommy—" the Jaff said. "Mildred something."

"Duffin," said William.

"Good! Good!" the Jaff said, jabbing a thick thumb in his direction. "Duffin! How easily we forget! Duffin!"

William knew Mildred. He'd seen her that very morning—minus the poodle pack—standing in the lot staring ahead of her as though she'd driven down here only to forget why she'd come. What she and the scorpion had in common was beyond him.

"I can see you're flummoxed, Witt," the Jaff said. "You're wondering: is this Mildred's new pet? The answer is no. The answer is, this is Mildred's deepest secret, made flesh. And that's what I want from you, William. The deep stuff. The secret stuff."

Red-blooded heterosexual voyeur that he was, William grasped instantly the cocksucking sub-text of the Jaff's request. He and Tommy-Ray weren't father and son, they were fucking each other. All this talk of the deep stuff, the secret stuff, was a veil over that.

"I don't want any part of this," William said. "Tommy-Ray'll tell you, I don't do any weird stuff."

"Nothing weird about fear," the Jaff said.

"Everybody's got it," Tommy-Ray put in.

"Some more than others. You...I suspect...more than most. Fess up, William. You've got some bad stuff in your head. I just want to take it out and make it mine."

More innuendo. William heard Tommy-Ray make a step in his direction.

"Keep your distance," William warned. It was pure bluff, and by the grin on Tommy-Ray's face he knew it.

"You'll feel better afterwards," said the Jaff.

"Much," said Tommy-Ray.

"It doesn't hurt. Well...maybe a little, at the start. But once you get the bad stuff out into the open you'll be a different person."

"Mildred was just one," said Tommy-Ray. "He visited a whole bunch last night."

"Sure I did."

"I pointed the way, and he went."

"I get a scent off some people, you know? I get a real strong scent."

"Louise Doyle...Chris Seapara...Harry O'Connor..."

William knew them all.

"...Gunther Rothbery...Martine Nesbitt..."

"Martine had some really impressive sights to show," the Jaff said. "One of them's outside. Keeping cool."

"The pool?" William murmured.

"You saw it?"

William shook his head.

"You really must. It's important to know what people have been hiding from you all these years." That touched a nerve, though William guessed the Jaff was ignorant of the fact. "You think you know these people," he went on, "but they've all got fears they never confess; dark places they cover up with smiles. These..." he raised his arm, to which a creature resembling a furless monkey clung, "...are what live in those places. I just call them forth."

"Martine, too?" William said, the vaguest glint of escape showing itself.

"Oh sure," said Tommy-Ray. "She had one of the best."

"I call them terata," the Jaff said. "Which means a monstrous birth; a prodigy. How do you like that?"

"I'd...I'd like to see what Martine produced," William replied.

"A pretty lady," said the Jaff, "with an ugly fuck in her head. Go show him, Tommy-Ray. Then bring him back up."

"Sure."

Tommy-Ray turned the handle but hesitated before opening the door, as though he'd read the thoughts going through William's head.

"You really want to see?" the youth said.

"I want to see," said Witt. "Martine and I..." He let the line trail a little. The Jaff bit.

"You and that woman, William? Together?"

"Once or twice," he lied. He'd not so much as touched Martine, nor indeed ever wanted to, but he hoped it gave motive to his curiosity.

The Jaff seemed persuaded.

"All the more reason to see what she was keeping from you," he said. "Take him, Tommy-Ray! Take him!"

The McGuire boy did as ordered, leading William downstairs. He whistled tunelessly as he went, his easy gait and his casual manner all belying the hellish company he was keeping. More than once William was tempted to ask the kid why, just so he could better understand what was happening to the Grove. How could it be that evil was so happy-go-lucky? How could souls so plainly corrupted as Tommy-Ray saunter, and sing, and exchange repartee like ordinary folks?

"Freaky, huh?" Tommy-Ray said, as he took the rear door key from William. He's read my mind, Witt thought, but Tommy-Ray's next remark gave the lie to that.

"Empty houses. Freaky places. 'Cept for you, I guess. You're used to 'em, right?"

"I've got that way."

"The Jaff doesn't much like the sun, so I found him this place. Somewhere he could hide away."

Tommy-Ray squinted against the bright sky as they headed outside. "Guess I must be getting like him," he commented. "Used to love the beach, y'know. Topanga; Malibu. Now it kinda makes me sick to think about all that...brightness."