Evil in Me, page 19
She slowed down, reading mailbox numbers, stopping when she came to a craftsman badly in need of paint and a new roof. It looked like no one there knew how to do yard work either—the shrubs were overgrown and the yard and driveway were covered in wet leaves.
Ruby had found Tina’s address in the phone book, the only Tina Tang listed. She pulled into the drive and cut the engine, then reached into the back, digging through Mr. Rosenfeld’s things until she found his pack of cigarettes. She tore off the plastic, slid one out, and lit it with shaking hands.
“Guess I’m not quitting today,” she said, and took a deep drag, then another, hoping the nicotine would calm her nerves. She sat there a long time, watching the drizzle gather on the windshield, trying to breathe normally again, trying not to think about Dr. Gold and Mr. Rosenfeld, about Hell. She felt the tears trying to return. Not now, she told herself. Gotta get through this first. Can cry all you want later.
She stubbed out the cigarette and left the car, headed up the walkway and onto the porch. She must’ve stood staring at the buzzer for a full minute. It’d been over two years since she’d last seen Tina, and their final get-together hadn’t gone so well. That was when Tina accused Ruby of backing out on her. Said Ruby was just using Billy as an excuse. Went so far as to tell Ruby that she was all talk, that she’d never amount to anything because she was a coward.
Ruby couldn’t remember what she’d said to Tina after that, only that it had been bad. The awful kinds of things only best friends can dish out—nobody can hurt you like the ones you love. She did know that she regretted every word. She also knew a lot of what Tina had said was true, and that of course was why it had stung so bad.
They’d written a couple of times since, but neither had apologized, both keeping well away from the things said that day, dry letters that were more like chronicles than notes between best friends.
And here I am, Ruby thought. About to ask her to fight a demon lord with me. How about that? And why not, isn’t that what friends are for? She let out a sigh. This should go well.
Ruby pushed the buzzer. No ring, no chimes. Maybe it was broken. She knocked, waited, knocked again. Finally, she peered in through the window; someone was sleeping on an old tattered sofa. She tried the door; it was unlocked. She let herself in.
“Hello?” she called, walking into the living room. There were tie-dyed sheets serving as curtains, a couple of black-light posters on the walls, and an armless mannequin in the corner. The sparse furniture looked to have been scavenged, including a coffee table made from milk crates. Every surface was covered in overflowing ashtrays and crumpled beer and soda cans. The place smelled like macaroni and cheese.
“Hello?”
Whoever was under the blanket didn’t answer.
“Tina?” She shook the person.
“What?” came a man’s muffled voice.
Ruby jumped back.
The covers slid down and a young man with a rat’s nest of bleached spiky hair stared up at her with bleary eyes.
“Oh, fuck! Sorry, man. I’m looking for Tina. Is she here?”
He frowned at her, jabbed a thumb toward the rear of the house, and pulled the blanket back over his head.
It was then that Ruby caught a guitar riff coming from somewhere, maybe below her. She followed the sound, looking for a door down into a basement. She tried one in the kitchen, but it was to the pantry, tried another, and was greeted with a loud blast of reverb. She smiled and headed down.
Tina was standing with her back to Ruby, wearing only an oversize Ramones T-shirt and her undies, her long black hair disheveled like she’d just crawled out of bed. She had her guitar slung low, strumming hard, fast. It sounded raw, it sounded good. Tina began to sing, belting out an angry yowl. Ruby couldn’t quite catch the lyrics, something about a wild heartbroken feline. The chorus was, run cat run.
When she came to the chorus again, Ruby joined in.
Tina jerked around and for a second, Ruby felt sure her friend was going to clobber her with the guitar. Then Tina’s eyes grew wide. She shook her head, blinked. “Ruby?”
Ruby nodded, trying to read Tina’s face. “Hey.”
Tina narrowed her eyes and stared at Ruby, not quite glaring, but close.
Ruby blew out a breath of air; she could see this was about to get bad.
“I’m mad at you,” Tina said.
“I know.”
Tina stared at her a moment longer, then the corner of her mouth twitched upward. Slowly, her smile, her crazy smile, lit up her face. “Ruuuby!” she cried, tossing the guitar aside and leaping for her. She seized Ruby in a bear hug, lifting her up off the ground, spinning round until they crashed into the wall.
“Tina, hell, stop it! You’re gonna kill us both!”
Tina let go, grabbing Ruby’s shoulders, looking her up and down. “My God, Ruby! It’s you! It’s really you? I can’t believe it’s you … and, and that you’re here. Right here in my room. Oh, Ruby baby, you made it! You finally made it! What? How? Oh, never mind. Just hug me, girl!”
Tina hugged her again, harder than the first time; she smelled of sweat, stale coffee, and Aqua Net and it was as sweet as honey to Ruby. Ruby hugged her back, hard as she could, and for a moment forgot all about the evil festering inside her.
Tina stepped back. “Let me look at you. Lord, what happened to your hair?”
Ruby started to reply and realized there was no easy way to answer without telling everything, and she wasn’t ready for that, not yet. “You don’t wanna know.”
“I sure as hell do. I wanna know everything going on with you, babe.” She headed over to her fridge. “Can I get you something? Some tea? A beer?”
“Shit, Tina, it’s like eight a.m.”
“Is it?” She glanced at a clock over her bed. “Wow, it is. Man, I woke up around three this morning with a song going around in my head. You ever do that? Had to work it out or go nuts.”
“Yeah, sounded real good to me.”
“Thanks, Ruby,” Tina said with a big smile, and began digging through a pile of clothes. She pulled out a rumpled pair of tight black jeans and tugged them on. Tina had let her hair grow out and it was almost to her rump now—straight, shiny, and raven black. She’d cut her bangs into a type of widow’s peak; it looked wicked on her, accenting her thin, painted-on brows.
Tina’s dad was first-generation Korean, and her mother, a tall German lady. Tina got her dark brooding eyes and wide cheekbones from her father, her strong jaw and height from her mom. And to say that she stood out in a school with only four other Asian kids was an understatement. But Tina was just unusual, period: the way she dressed, walked, the way she cackled when she laughed, how she tended to make hooting noises in the hallway for no apparent reason. And that she was nearly six feet tall didn’t help her to fit in any, either. So, she … didn’t. She just gave anyone who gave her shit the good old middle finger and went on her way.
Henry Atkins, one of Stacy’s crowd, had once made the mistake of calling her “Tina Poontang.” Tina, whose father had been teaching her Tae Kwon Do since she was three, roundhouse kicked him in the throat. After that, no one, absolutely no one, called her that again, at least not where she could hear. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Ruby called her that when they got after each other, particularly when Tina called her “Ruby Fucker” instead of Ruby Tucker. But then, they had an endless bag of shit names for each other, almost an art form between them.
Tina went over to a small fridge, popped it open, pulled out a carton of milk. “Okay, then, how about some Cheerios?”
Ruby didn’t feel like eating, but knew she should. “Okay.”
Tina fixed them both a bowl and they took a seat on the rug and began to eat.
The basement apartment smelled of incense and peppermint. Ruby savored the scents as she glanced about at all the potted plants, dripping lace and black-light posters, bones, rubber bats, and books, so many books. Tina had always been a voracious reader; from Shelley to Tolkien, she inhaled books the way others inhaled air.
A drum kit sat in the corner, a banner hanging over it with the words THE BATTZ painted across it.
“The Battz … that your band?”
“One of ’em … or it was. We sorta had a falling-out last week. Okay, we had a major fight. So, not sure where things stand. Shame, good band. We have, or had, kind of a Cramps vibe, only a little harder, a little meaner. We even opened for the Gun Club once, can you believe it?”
Ruby stopped chewing. “Really? Wow, really?”
“Yeah, at the 688. It was crazy, Jeffery Lee asked Jane—Jane from my band—if he could borrow her guitar. Said his was messing up. Jane was beside herself, y’know, Jeffery Lee Pierce playing her guitar and all. Then,” Tina laughed, spitting out a Cheerio. She covered her mouth. “That twerp, he set her guitar on fire right there onstage.”
“What?”
“Yeah, nothing wrong with his guitar, he just wanted a prop to burn, part of his performance. Guess he didn’t wanna burn his own.” She laughed again. “So, burned up Jane’s instead. Can you believe that?”
Ruby shook her head.
“Oh, man, Jane went bat-shit on his ass. Ended up chasing him out of the club. He didn’t come back either. We—” Tina stopped. “Hey, what’s up with your hand?” She squinted. “Oh, fuck, Ruby that ain’t good. Let me see that.” She set down her bowl and reached for Ruby.
Ruby tucked her hand under her arm, out of sight.
Tina gave Ruby a troubled look. “Ruby, babe … what’s going on?”
Ruby’s eyes began to water. “I’m screwed, Tina. So screwed.”
“Talk to me, Ruby. Whatever it is, we can fix it. Together we’re unstoppable.”
Ruby sucked in a deep breath, fighting back the tears. “I, I … I got the Devil in me.”
“Wait … you’re preggers?”
“What?” Ruby shook her head, almost laughed. “No … a demon, I’m possessed, Tina.”
“Drugs? Shit, Ruby are you hooked on junk? Fuck! What did I tell you about that?” Tina would never turn down a beer with a friend, but drugs had always been a big NO with her. She didn’t care if folks were doing drugs around her, but when it came to her, or to someone she really cared about, she could be downright militant. The two of them had almost come to blows on more than one occasion over Ruby just smoking pot.
“No, Tina, you’re not hearing me. Not drugs. I mean possessed. Y’know, like in that movie, The Exorcist.”
Tina starred at her for a long minute. “Ruby, tell me honestly, now. Did you stop taking your medication again?”
Ruby let out a sigh and then, starting from the beginning, told the whole tragic tale.
“Ruby, baby,” Tina said softly, the way you would speak to a child. “Hey, sounds like you certainly been through some shit. Now, I’m not saying I don’t believe you, but, babe, how can you be sure it ain’t all in your head? At least some of it? Y’know, the last time you stopped with the meds, you had some pretty crazy hallucinations, waking dreams and such. Remember when you thought there were tribbles in the room with us?”
Ruby groaned. “No, it’s not like that.”
“How can you be sure?”
“Because,” Beel said, speaking through Ruby’s lips. His voice deep, throaty, with that strange echo. “I am the proof. I am the Beel she spoke of. What Ruby says is all true.”
Tina’s mouth fell open. “Whoa … how’d you do that? That some kinda trick?”
“It’s not a trick,” Ruby said, showing Tina the ring; most of her hand was purple and black now.
Tina winced. “Oh, shit. Ruby!”
Ruby slid up her sleeve, revealing the symbol on her forearm, and the angry teeth marks left by the snake demons.
“Oh, honey, you need to take care of that.” Tina jumped up, left the room, returning a moment later with a warm washcloth and some iodine. She helped Ruby take her jacket off and began washing the small wounds.
Ruby smirked. “So, you think that iodine works against demon bites?”
“Sure, says so right on the label.”
Ruby tried to laugh, but it sounded more like a whimper.
“Oh, Ruby. What’ve you got yourself into?”
“I need your help, Tina. I don’t think I’ve got much time left.”
“I’ll do anything for you, baby. You know that. Just—”
“We need to make a band.”
“A … band?”
Ruby told her the plan, explaining in detail about the song, how they needed to get as many people to sing along as possible.
Tina listened to the whole pitch earnestly, sat there for a long minute before speaking. “Ruby, this is a lot to take in all at once. Now, you know me. I’m not one to bullshit. Gonna tell you straight … I’m not sure what I believe right now. But here’s what I know. Something’s going on in your head, demon or otherwise, and I think nothing could be better for you than getting up onstage and howling out some songs. Best therapy for the soul there is.
“So, guess what I’m saying is, it doesn’t matter if I believe you or not. What matters, girl, what really matters, is that I believe in you. You hear what I’m saying?
“And there’s something else.” Tina stood up, walked over to her bed and picked up her guitar, sliding the strap over her shoulder. “It’s not like you need to twist my arm here. We’ve been dreaming of this day since high school.” She strummed the strings.
“So, let’s make some goddamn noise.” She tore into a riff, the distorted sound bouncing off the walls.
Ruby dabbed at her eyes, feeling hope, feeling love, feeling like she wasn’t alone.
All of a sudden Tina stopped. “Hey, heeeey! You know what’d be a kick?”
Ruby shook her head.
Tina jumped over to her dresser, tugged out a ragged spiral notebook and held it up. Ruby recognized it right away—bright red cover with the words THE NIGHT MARES scribbled in ball-point pen. Below it, Ruby’s drawing of two skeletal horses in a yin-yang shape, like they were chasing each other’s tails. It was their band book from high school and she knew what was in it—all their awkward attempts at song making.
Ruby laughed. “You’re not suggesting we play those?”
“I know, a lot of doofy stuff in here. About what you’d expect from a couple of punk rock wannabes. But we’re gonna need some songs quick, and I read through this recently, and there’s some pretty good starts. At least two or three I think we can turn into something.”
She opened the notebook, flipped toward the back, handed it to Ruby. “Remember this one?”
Ruby smiled. The title was “Skank Howl.” It made her think of Stacy, the time she called Tina and her the Skank Sisters in Mrs. Wilson’s English class, right in front of the whole room. And how utterly confused Stacy had looked when instead of getting upset, Tina and Ruby had laughed their asses off, because by then they were so far out of Stacy’s reach, they just didn’t give a fuck. Girls like Stacy didn’t understand not giving a fuck, especially about what other folks thought of them. So, she’d just kind of stood there, lost. Meanwhile, Tina and Ruby had gone home that day and wrote the song.
Tina picked up her old bass and brought it over to Ruby. “You ready?”
“Hang on. Do you have an old glove, some scissors?”
“Do I have an old glove?” She laughed. “Look in that top drawer. Scissors there in the tray.”
There were dozens and dozens of gloves in the drawer. Ruby dug out a red dress glove. “Can I have this?”
“You betcha.”
“Just thinking it might be good to keep the ring covered, so I don’t rub off any more of the blood.” Ruby clipped the fingertips off the glove, then slipped it over the ring. “There, that’s better.” She picked up the bass.
“Ready?”
“Think so.”
Tina started in, looping around the intro, giving Ruby time to come in.
Ruby swallowed. Started to hum, letting her fingers find the song. She cleared her throat and began to sing.
“That’s it, baby,” Tina called, and joined her.
They stumbled through the song, missing chords and screwing up lyrics, but it felt good, so damn good. God, Ruby thought, been forever since we played this, yet seems like yesterday. Then, little by little, they began to find their groove. They played the song through six times. Each one a little tighter than before, and for the second time that morning, Ruby forgot about the ring.
Tina stopped. “Not bad. Right? Especially for eight a.m.”
Ruby laughed. “Yeah, hell yeah.”
“We can do this, right?”
Ruby nodded.
Tina let loose a howl. “You can run, but you can’t hide … the Night Mares are coming to town!”
* * *
Beel barely heard them, he was within, as far within as he could go. They, the two women, were arguing with a man, the one from upstairs that’d been sleeping on the couch. Something about playing drums.
Beel didn’t care, not about Ruby’s ploy, this band of hers, it was all folly. There was no chance of it working, none. What he cared about was the song, not the one Ruby was trying to play, but that of the worms, Lord Sheelbeth’s song. It was growing louder.
Why am I fighting this? Beel wondered. I am but making things worse for myself, digging my own grave as they say. The old man is dead after all. Lord Sheelbeth has won. It is only a matter of days, perhaps hours, before the ring will take me.
Flames filled Beel’s vision.
Perhaps what Sheelbeth said was true: with the last wizard gone, the magic book burned, there is nothing left to stop her, that she can truly break back through into this world.
Beel pondered this.
But only with my help. She cannot do it alone. I need but wait until Ruby is asleep, scrub the ring, and be done. And if I help Lord Sheelbeth … she has promised to free me.
