Short story 43

I squeezed the gun in my hands and obsessively checked the eight chambers. It was still loaded, the same way it was five minutes ago. Satisfied for the moment I hid it in my pocket again.

Having a loaded gun in the baby’s room, I bet you could be arrested just for that. Arrested and divorced, and I would deserve it. From anyone else’s point of view I was just crazy.

But maybe if you listen to my story you will see that I have a very good reason to be this afraid.

It started not too long after my twenty-first birthday. I took a bus to Atlantic City without the rest of the boys. I decided they were the ones holding me back from one of those crazy nights you see in the movies. I would go, gamble, find a party, meet some drunk girls, and have a hangover to which I would compare every other hangover I ever had.

Things didn't go as planned. It is amazing how fast three-hundred dollars goes in AC. Well maybe it would have gone further if I did not discover my special relationship with drinking and gambling. It was only eleven, and I was making my first trip to the ATM. By one AM I had not only emptied my debit card, I had also used up the twenty in my pocket for the bus ticket home.

I did not have a way to get back to my flat, but worse I no longer had my share of the rent for Monday. If you guess this was not the first time I had done something less than smart, you may be right, and there was going to be a good chance I was going to be thrown out.

I sat in a side alley thinking of a plan as my head swam. I would have to spend the night stumbling around here, the beach, and the casino, and then call my parents in the morning to buy me a ticket home. After that I would have to figure out how to borrow money to make rent.

“Can I bum a cigarette?” came a voice, and I realized someone had sat next to me. It was a large man with an unmistakable smell of whiskey surrounding him like a cloud. He had a huge growth of black hair that tangled into a mess on his head reminding me of overgrown ivy. His huge beard covered most of his face, but through the gap that was his mouth I could see at least two glistening gold teeth.

For a moment I considered trying to sell him the cigarettes, but then thought better of it. The dollar was not going to make a difference, a little good karma could go a long way towards getting through the night. I pulled out my last two, and a lighter, handing one to the man.

“Not your night?” asked the man taking a long puff.

“No, lost everything.”

“This city,” he looked at me long and hard, and then showed me his gold teeth, “it will take everything from you. It is a living thing you know. It needs to be fed.”

“Well I have nothing left to give. I don’t even have the bus fare home.”

He took a long measure of me. “Do you want to make one more wager? Maybe get out of this clean?”

“I told you, I don’t have anything left.”

“A car passed and I got a better look at my alley mate. He wore an old dark green suit, soaked in mud and whatever else. His teeth, every single one, was a different shade of gold. And his eyes, in a moment of light I thought they were green with vertical elongated pupils. “How about you wager something from your future?”

“My future? I’m not betting money I don’t have. I‘m not that stupid.”

“Not money.” He moved closer to me. The smell of alcohol and piss was overwhelming. “How about you wager your first born?”

“I…” I laughed even though nothing was funny, I don’t have children. “At least not ones I know of. Right?”

“That’s why it’s a wager, a gamble, a risk.” The man’s voice pierced me to the core, and I felt as if I was prey in the eyes of a predator. “If you have children, the first is mine. And you can go home, like this night never happened.”

“Umm..” I hesitated. This was crazy, but as I looked at the man I knew some truth deep inside. I was not going to survive the night here. He was the first in a long line of those who prowled these streets at night. “OK, I guess you can have my first born… if you can get me home with all the money I lost.”

“Smart boy,” the man replied.

“Yeah, very smart.” I thought to myself. “ I don’t want children. If it ever happens he can explain this to my baby momma. So smart that I am pretending to myself that some drunk in an alley is going to get my rent money back.”

“Check your pockets, boy.”

“I reached into my pockets and fumbled past my empty wallet for a moment. Then I pulled out the only other thing in there. Somehow I still had a one dollar chip.

“This is going to get me home?”

“Take it to the wheel. Play thirteen then seventeen.“

I was going to say something else, but I turned my head to a noise. Two cats fell into the alley fighting. When I turned back, the old man was gone, with only an empty bottle of whiskey where he sat.

As I said, one dollar was not getting me home. I walked back into the casino, It was now mostly empty, only the terrifying night crowd of truly those having nothing to lose. I realized I was one of them.

I did not hesitate. I just walked up and dropped my chip on thirteen. And then as the ball stopped spinning, and the wheel came to rest, I had thirty five dollars. That... that was enough to get home. I felt sweat run down my body. In a moment everything felt so real, and so fake. I could not stop. Something deep inside screamed not to do it, but I moved the little pile of chips to seventeen.

I cashed out over a thousand dollars, I was up for the night, and paid an Uber to get me home.

The gun was heavy in my hands, and I realized I had it out of my pocket with my finger too close to the trigger.

I was not going to have children until I met Cara. I was twenty three and just done with college. She had freckles, huge blue eyes, and the kind of smile that could make a man do anything. We got married, and had a girl, Nora, and then I had two women in my life I would do anything for. I tried to never think about that night in Atlantic City, not until I met the gold toothed man again.

“She is twenty days out of the womb.” I spun around as I was exiting a pharmacy making a late night diaper run. Next to the door sat a homeless man smoking a cigarette. I quit nine months ago but could still feel the irritation and desire of a long lost vice.

“What?” I asked, almost not sure he was talking to me.

“Twenty days. In twenty more we will come. We will take what is ours. You will pay your debt to The Emerald Eyes. As it is midnight now, it will be midnight then. We will take what is owed.”

I spun at the man, “Listen here,” I lost the force out of my voice. I could see his cat pupils, and I could see his golden smile. “I will pay you. You gave me a thousand, I will give you five!”

“Yes you will pay me. We will be there in twenty days.”

“I was going to say something else, but another man exiting the store bumped me. When I looked back there was just an empty bottle next to some rags.

It is eleven thirty now. In thirty minutes I may find out if lead is as good as iron to stop a fay.

Eleven fifty-eight. I looked at my gun and drew back the hammer, and then slowly set it back. I traded my first born to some creatures beyond this world, but this was not a moment to be completely reckless. They would be here to collect in less than two minutes.

I had the doors and windows locked and covered. The door to the nursery was also closed. My wife was asleep, I planned very carefully so tonight would be my turn to be awake. Nora was sleeping in her crib in the center of the room. I sat three feet away with my back to the wall. Just far enough to have full visibility and freedom of motion, just close enough that I could reach her in one step..

I thought again to myself how crazy I was, holding a loaded gun almost facing my infant. But I also knew that all my locked doors and precautions would not mean anything. I saw the large gold toothed man disappear twice. I didn’t think things like doors concerned him.

Midnight. It was the mirror. I didn’t know how they were going to come in, but I wasn’t surprised that it was the full length dressing mirror. At exactly midnight the surface of it went black and then bubbled like a pot ready for pasta. When it was done, the new image wasn’t of the room.

I was expecting gold teeth, but something else stood on the other side. It was a white slender figure. It had to duck its head down to get its antlers through the oculus and into the room. It had a goat face, stood upright, hooves on its feet, but human hands, covered in coarse white fur. It looked at me and spoke in British English, with a clarity that the goat snout had no right to have.

“A gun?” It sounded condescending and bored, “does that mean you are not planning to honor the deal?”

“No I am not,” I tried to sound brave and determined but the words came out breathless.

“Do you think you are the first mortal to try to go back on a deal? Sheehan has such low standards.”

“I am willing to make some sort of compromise!” I felt like my heart was going to come out of it’s chest. I tried to take a deep breath. If I just dropped dead right here, it would not help anyone.

“Sheehan and I are nothing but servants to The Emerald Eyes, and his lordship doesn’t care for compromises. You promised Sheehan the child, and we are here to collect. You seem to have enough wits to hesitate using your weapon, in my experience this means you won’t.”

It was right. Win or lose here, if I had an accidental firearm discharge in the nursery, through protective services or divorce, I would not keep this child. It didn’t need to know that though. “We can be reasonable here, and we can make a deal, or you could make me do something unreasonable. You gave me a thousand dollars, and I can return it to you with fair interest.”

“Mortal. I am not afraid of your weapon, no more than I am afraid of you. We didn’t give you money.” The disdain in its voice for the last word was palpable, “We gave you luck, and you spent it how you chose. You acquired wealth, a mate, and offspring. We only ask for what is ours. Do not make us take your luck from you. You can have more children with your sow, without luck, you will only find suffering. Either way, The Emerald Eye will not be denied what is his. ”

I had one more bluff, one more unthinkable thing. Even saying the words sent tears to my eyes. I didn’t care. I wasn’t going to end this day without having tried everything. “Maybe I can’t kill you. But I can kill the child. If you don’t negotiate with me, you can go back to your Emerald Eyes empty handed. I will shoot the child and then myself, and then you will have nothing.”

The world went blurry, and my hands were shaking. I could feel tears running down my face. I didn't know if I was screaming, and if my wife could hear me upstairs. I tried to steady myself, to gather my will, and show this goat that I had the determination.

“Mortal. Your hands are shaking. Do not do anything we would both regret. Let me do you this one kindness and tell you something. If you are so determined, take the gun. Place it to your temple and pull the trigger. If you do have such determination, if you can take your own life, I will leave. Sheehan made the deal with you and you will be dead.”

“Why should I believe you?” I cried.

“You mistrust me? I am not the one who has brought a gun to a deal already made. If you take your own life, I will leave. None of us will come back. Your child will be safe. I promise this to you on the word of the immortal fae.”

I raised the gun and put it to my head. The metal felt cool and almost pleasant to the sweaty skin. I steeled myself, and tried to pull the trigger. I felt the hammer slowly rise as I squeezed, until it reached the point of break.

I let go and the gun didn’t discharge. I held it in my shaking hand, and dropped it to the ground. I didn’t have it in me. I had big words, but I couldn't do it.

“That is the thing about the ones Sheehan chooses.” The goat smiled, pulling back it’s lips and revealing it’s almost human teeth, “You are all worthless, through and through. You do not deserve your children.”

I crumpled where I stood. I watched another figure step through the mirror. A large man with gold teeth. Sheehan spread his fingers in a gesture, and a weary darkness filled me, made of magic and despair. The world around me grew black.

Cara, my wife found me in the morning. “You fell asleep here watching her,” she said. “You are so cute.”

I looked to the crib, not knowing what to expect. Was I asleep? Did I dream all that? There was something shaped like my little baby in there. Cara kneeled down and picked it up.

“Aww, the little girl is being fussy today.”

I stepped over, blinking my eyes to look at my daughter. Wrapped up and swaddled was a little thing. It had inhuman blue skin and no hair. It’s ears were long and pointed, full of fur, When it saw that I was near it opened its eyes and looked right back at me. They were gold pupils on a sea of black. It smiled at me showing rows of sharp needle teeth.

She must be hungry, Cara said, revealing a breast from her robe. She held the creature to her, but then jerked it away. “Ow! I must be real tender. Honey, could you make a bottle? I will try breastfeeding later.”

The thing in my wife’s arms looked at me and laughed. “I am going to enjoy the taste of this human.” it cackled at me.

“Aww she is laughing.” Cara gentry rocked the bundle in her arms. “Look at her, she is laughing for the first time.”

I left the room. This wasn’t over. I may have lost my will at that moment but this wasn’t over. Maybe I was the only one who could see the monsters, but I will walk to hell and back, and I will have my daughter back.

It has been over one week since the fae took my daughter. In its place they left a blue goblin-like creature called a changeling. No one but me can see that something is wrong. My wife still cares for it like it is our child, and I can feel myself slipping into madness.

I know this is my fault, I made the deal for my first born to get myself out of a moment of trouble at a young age, but I do not deserve this hell.

Nora was a quiet child, Cara and I quickly fell into a rhythm of feeding and changing her. The changeling screams any time it does not have someone’s attention. Every moment now someone has to be with it, and often it screams even if we have it in our arms. It does not eat when it should eat, and pukes it’s foul yellow bile on everything around, and defecates a green liquid who’s stench makes me puke.

It mocks me any time I am in the room. It tells me of the suffering my daughter will face in the Emerald Eye’s court, and it picks me apart as a human being, knowing every flaw I hold in my heart. Perhaps if I knew life would be like this I would have been able to pull the trigger, and save my little girl.

The worst part is I have to play along. I have to pretend to soothe the baby as it laughs at me and tells me that I will crack. I will give in, and then when I am gone it will be free to ravage my wife as it pleases.

Cara thought Nora was sick and we took her to the pediatrician. I prayed that while the changeling could defeat human sight, modern medical tests would somehow see through the glamour. The doctor told us that we had a perfectly healthy child, if a bit underweight, and that this kind of fussy period was normal.

I even made us go to church. Maybe the changeling could not enter hallowed ground, or perhaps the priest would sense the taint of evil, He looked right at the little goblin, and told us what a pretty baby we had, as the changeling spouted blasphemies.

My only free time was in the bathroom. There, with every moment I could steal I was on my phone learning about the fae. The goat sounded like the visit it was making was routine, I could not have been the only one. We were not peasants alone of farmland to harass, we were a people connected around the world by knowledge.

I learned words like ‘changeling’, and ‘glamour’, I learned mythology that I could first hand tell was not true. The changeling did not fear the cross, or iron. Cold iron, that was one last thing to perhaps try, but I had no idea where to get some.

I also read a lot about postpartum depression and other parental psychosis. New parents losing their minds and trying or succeeding in murdering their children. Was it the fae, or was I being taken by the madness.

This had to end one way or another. I put together one plan, one Hail Mary. I gathered what I thought I would need from eBay, and I told my wife she should take a weekend with the girls, I would watch the child, and a little break would go a long way for our marriage.

I waited until noon on Sunday, the moment I thought furthest from the midnights these creatures preferred. I had my last ingredient ready, as I set the false infant into its carrier in the middle of a cleared living room.

“What are you doing you little excuse for a man? Has your wife finally left you?” It shrieked.

“No”. I was calm. I set down my phone and started recording the changeling. “We are going to try something new. What do you think of these cute baby mittens?”

It squirmed but, being recorded, did not fight any more than an infant would as I pulled the little things over his hands. “These are made to prevent babies from scratching. I have a feeling they will make glamours way more difficult.”

“Are you insane? Are you recording yourself being insane?”

“No, if you won’t do anything weird, I won’t do anything weird.” I then pulled out a flask, and poured it on the Changeling as it squirmed.

“Holy water? What is your plan? I do not care about your lord or holy water!”

“No, but I did notice you would not drink formula when I added some to the mix. I think it only hurts you if you get it inside.”

“So what are you going to do now? Cut up your child on video? You are insane, you know. You will go to prison. Do you know what they will do to you in prison? Prisons are full of beings like me, who do not take well to attacks on their kind.”

“That won’t help you.”

“Or maybe there is no fae,” the creature continued. “Maybe you are insane, did you think of that? Do you see what you are about to do? You are about to stab your own baby? Don’t you think it is much more likely that you have lost your mind than that fairies are real?”

“I figured that out too,” I smiled, and walked to the kitchen. I returned with a big plastic cage, and set it on the ground. “This is Siog Marfoir. Am I pronouncing that right? “

A “meow” came from the cage.

“You brought a cat?” The creature sounded a little concerned. The first time it lost that shrill in its voice.

“Not just a cat. A twenty pound Main Coon, named, do tell me if I am translating this wrong, Fae Slayer.” I opened the cage, and the gray feline stepped out and stretched its long back. “It says here, ‘great with children’. This is a trial adoption. Just for a week. If I am crazy, Marfoir is about to go over there and sniff you. I am going to get a very cute video. Or maybe I'm not and he is about to tear out your throat.”

“No, no…” As the creature yelled I held the cat back, by the collar. “I am here for your benefit. I am here so you don’t have to explain what happened to the baby.”

“My benefit? You are a nightmare.”

“I will be good, I will be quiet.” I really thought the little guy sounded genuinely scared.

“Here is what we are going to do. I am going to keep the cat. And if you speak again without being asked, or do anything to upset me or the Missus , I am going to forget to close the door to the baby room, and Siog Marfoir is going to tuck you in. And then I am going to clean out your cuts with this,” I waved the flask.

“Yes, I understand, Yes!” said the changeling.

“But there is more. If you want to survive the day, you are going to tell me how to cross the mirror.”

“No, no!” The creature screamed. “You are mortal. There are rules against that. And what good will you do? These little tricks will do nothing to Sheehan. You are nothing to the court of the Emerald Eyes.”

I picked up the cat, and brought it close. Marfoir or whatever his name was pre adoption, hissed and chittered as he looked at the goblin. I put my hand into my pocket, and dropped little bits of iron around the baby carrier. “I am not going to ask again. You will tell me how to pass the mirror, and you will swear on your immortality to tell me the whole truth. You will speak it thrice, and you will be bound to your word.”

The ingredients I needed were weird, but not ungettable. As soon as I am ready, one of these dark midnights, when the barriers between our worlds are thinnest, I am going to get my daughter back!

It has now been more than two weeks since I saw my baby girl. I traded her away to the fae, long before she was conceived, and they came and took her. I was now about to do everything I can to get her back.

The changeling that was left in her place told me everything, after a little pressure from a giant cat I found in a shelter. I spent the last week going between herbalist and mystic shops looking for the ingredients that I needed, but now I had the mixture. I again found a night my wife was asleep, and prepared to do the ritual. I crushed all the herbs into a powder in a mortar, and dropped them into a glass full of unmalted whiskey. It took me a few tries to force the concoction down. I hadn’t had this much alcohol in one glass since before I was married. Then as the warmth of the drink filled my body, and the foul taste of the herbs danced in my mouth I waited for the mirror.

I didn’t think it was going to work. I thought the little goblin found some cheat or out from the deal we made. Maybe this concoction was just poison, and I was going to drop dead right here. Against the odds I set in my mind, the mirror began to boil just like before. I clenched the gun in my pocket. It was better to not need it and have it than to need it and not have it. At the same time I was already feeling a daze, I was more likely to hurt myself with that thing than anyone else. I needed to come in as a guest, I was not going to get anywhere by force, With a sigh I hid the gun in a drawer. Then with no more ways to hesitate, I took a deep breath and stepped through.

I think I was expecting a forest. Every storybook ever had the fae hold in some deep woods. Where I found myself instead was an old smoked up room. The clouds of tobacco were so thick that they obstructed vision more than a few feet away. The smell pulled at my insides and begged me to light a cigarette. I don’t know how, with all the stress, I had still not had one since she was taken.

I looked around trying to get some sort of bearing. I stood on a cheap carpet with a disgusting mix of faded colorful geometric shapes, and stains of all shades of brown.

There was so much noise that it took me a long time to process what I was looking at. All the talking, clinking, and ringing bells. I was somewhere in the middle of a row of machines. At each one sat a person, their eyes transfixed. All in their own rhythm pulled giant levers on the side and watched wheels tumble inside to show numbers or cherries. I was looking at old slot machines, the one-eyed bandits.

Around the machines walked the staff. Some had drinks or cigars on their trays. They were all animals on their hind legs not unlike the goat. One stopped, offering me a drink, but I already had too much, and waved them on.

Suddenly I heard a choking noise. I turned around to see an older man behind me grasp his chest and drop to the floor. I looked at his machine and it read out zero, zero, zero.

From the smoke emerged three wolf headed employees. They were dressed differently than the waiters. Without hesitation they dropped to all fours and began devouring the man. The other patrons seemed to give this no mind at all. I turned my head and tried to walk forward. This was not my fight.

Ahead were roulette tables. I paused at one, the once green felt was soaked in blood and the field had a kidney laid out on red.

The wheel came up black, and the camel looking creature scraped the organ off the board into a bucket. A man at the table sighed and stuck his arm between the buttons on his shirt. After rummaging around he came up with a brown pulsating mass in his hand. After a pause he plopped it, still bleeding, onto red again. I didn’t stay long enough to see how this spin fared.

I walked and walked but this casino had no start or end. Just an endless row of gambling devices and gamblers slowly being digested in the yellow smoke. I felt it in me too. I felt I had inhaled enough nicotine to have smoked a pack. The old endless craving in the back of my mind was finally satisfied, but it knew it wanted more soon.

All around, one logo was repeated on everything from the machines to the drink glasses. The Emerald Eyes. Both of the first E’s drawn as an eye with gemstones. This was a machine designed to consume humanity, and I was nothing but a cow in an abattoir, thinking I will get some justice instead of slaughter.

The alcohol quickly flowed to my brain. Thinking became more and more difficult, but at least it was giving me courage for what I had to do. I kept walking, or maybe now stumbling around. There was no time, no space, I was just lost.

I felt an arm on my shoulder. Startled, I turned and saw gold-toothed Sheehan. “I thought you not dumb enough or brave enough to do something like this. ”

“It’s like any con isn't it? The most important part is choosing your mark.”

“I will pay for this failure. But let us get on with it.

He pushed my shoulder and spun me hard. When I looked around again I was in a different room. This was a bar, with animal patrons shuffling in and out. Behind the bar stood a short thin man in a bright green suit and top hat. His eyes were two giant green gemstones. He put down a glass he was cleaning and looked at me. “So what’s your poison?”

I wanted to start with something aggressive, but bit my tongue. I was not going to intimidate the things here into doing what I want. “I don’t want a drink,” I said softly, “I think I had enough. I just want my daughter back.”

Ignoring my words, he pulled out a green bottle and poured me a shot of a thick liquid. I somehow knew that I had to drink it to continue the conversation.

He waited for me to set the shot glass down before talking. “And how are you going to trade for that? You had your chance to end your life and break the contract. Now your heart has less beats than hers, and your liver can take less drinks. How are you going to offer something of greater value to The Emerald Eyes?”

“There must be something you want. There must be something I can give. A man is not born with all his value just to lose it over time, there must be some value acquired throughout one’s life.”

“How poetic.” The bartender laughed. “Mortals get so poetic when they grow desperate. I will tell you one thing. I have a soft spot for anyone who makes it this far. Most people simply accept their fate. Most people cut their losses. But not you, you will double down again and again. You think the game is not fixed against you. You think sooner or later, the wheel will spin red.”

“I don’t want to gamble. I don’t want any arrangement where I don’t have my daughter back. “

“Ah I see. Well let me take a look at you. There is one thing you have more valuable than the girl. Here is the game, if you let me have it, without knowing what it is. It’s a deal.”

“I will not give up my life.” I paused and took a deep breath. “My daughter will have a mother and a father. I will not give up anything that will take away from her happiness. I will not let Cara think I killed myself. Besides that, take anything you want, And do it, because I am not leaving otherwise.”

“If you are a good man, as you think, it will have no effect on your daughter’s happiness.” He poured me, and then himself, a shot. “Let us seal the deal.”

We drank, and looked into each other's eyes. In his shining gemstones I only saw myself, and it made me feel disgusted. I broke the gaze first as I coughed. The alcohol and nicotine was too much, and I had to do my best not to throw up right there.

“As it is said, it is done,” spoke the Emerald Eyes, “and be forever banished from the realm of fae.”

I woke up in my daughter's room. There in her crib lay a perfect little baby. Nora woke up with me, looked at me, and smiled. I rushed over and picked her up. I didn’t know if to laugh or cry. I felt no different than I was before. I didn’t care what the fae took from me, it was worth it.

“Hi honey,” my wife walked into the room. “You fell asleep watching her again.”

She walked over, took the baby and then fixed me with a stare. “I smell booze, and are you back to smoking?. Is this what you do all night when you tell me you will watch Nora. You sit here drinking and smoking in her room?”

I looked at her and I didn’t understand. She was the same woman, she was my wife, but she was not my Cara. I looked at her face and only saw the crow’s feet crawling from her eyes and the few pounds she put on from child bearing. There was nothing different, but nothing was the same.

“Nothing to say for yourself? And you think I have not seen you keep taking that gun out of the safe? You promised you were going to keep it locked. I can’t even look at you right now.” She took the baby and went upstairs.

I wanted to defend myself but I couldn't. What could I say? I was too drunk to get a coherent sentence together. I didn’t even understand who she was. I was still sexualy attracted to her, but it wasn’t the same. She was just another woman, I didn’t love her, the magic was gone.

I sat watching the empty crib. I still had something, I still loved my daughter. If I could still feel something, that means this wasn’t over. Could I fall in love with Cara again? How could I not love the mother of my child? I didn’t know. I felt sick to my stomach and full of self pity.

I put my hand to my pocket on instinct, finding it empty. I had not had a pack there for nine months now. I looked at the half empty whiskey bottle near the mirror, and considered if I should pour it down the drain. I was older now, I had self control, I didn’t need to do those kinds of things.

Marfoir came up and rubbed against my leg. Perhaps he was the real fae slayer after all, because I felt something shift inside myself. For a moment I felt like I didn’t give something up, but instead was cursed. That somehow made me feel better. Like I could free myself, and things could go back to how they were. I knew one thing though, if I had to do the last three weeks again, I wouldn’t do them any other way...