Shadowman, page 7
part #1 of The Valiant Universe Series
Manipulating his appendage like some kind of retractable cord, the boy drew himself inside the void with a mighty pull.
There was no way a mortal could have achieved such a thing through mere chance. Bossu knew Jack could feel him scanning his mind in search of an explanation, but his expression remained a mix of smug and sorrowful.
There was nothing, not a hint nor word of knowledge nor even a hastily formed plan. Just a continuous series of reactions.
He did all that by chance?
It was not possible. Bossu must have missed something. “How did you do that?”
Jack’s face perked up slightly like a small child unexpectedly receiving a gift. “Do what?”
“What do you mean?!” the Lwa barked. “You are here, are you not? What else would I be talking about?”
He felt Jack’s appendage swat him off his memories.
“How I got here, you mean?” Jack maintained his look of innocent confusion as the Lwa glared at him in silence. “Well, I thought that’s what I was supposed to do. You told me your name, so I called it. What else was I gonna do? My mental arm thing felt something open up . . . like a draft from an opened door or something, and I just started playing by ear after that.”
Jack’s expression livened some more as the Lwa remained silent.
“Impressed?” he asked teasingly. “Well, get over it! There is work to be done, and if you’re already feeling defeated over a bruised ego, then we’re in dire straits!”
The giant behemoth lurched slightly as it released a single exhale of amusement.
“Josiah . . .” he growled.
Jack could not tell if the Lwa was smiling or grimacing but decided on the former. “So,” he said, beginning to pace in front of it, “what is this work to be done? It’s obviously related to my dad.”
“Very well,” the Lwa replied. “Josiah was the Shadowman—”
“Shadow because of this void, eh?” Jack continued speaking before Bossu could respond. “That’s the title of the enforcer you told me about last time? I figured working on behalf of the Lwa was the reason my dad wasn’t around much.”
“Obv—”
“But what I don’t get is why that would change?” Jack interrupted again. “I’m assuming that this role was filled by my grandfather and his dad before him and so on. I find it difficult to believe something that existed for so long would suddenly become obsolete only to be needed again by you guys at the worst time possible. Something must have happened.” Jack stopped pacing and looked at the Lwa. “What happened?”
“Very good, Jack,” he breathed.
Despite his mouth being in an inexpressive state of permanent gnash, Jack could tell the Lwa was pleased. “Thanks, I guess.”
“You are welcome.”
Jack started feeling uncomfortable as the sincerity of the statement hung in the air.
“So,” Bossu knowingly began, “I will address your statements in reverse order. First of all, we are not, as you say, guys.”
Jack shot the behemoth a look of confusion. “What?” he said, pacing about the void again.
“The term you used regarding your father’s services.” Jack gave a slow nod of acknowledgment. “It would be wise to refrain from viewing me as part of the voodoo pantheon. I am not.”
“Why not?”
“My answer will differ from their own. In addition, it is not pertinent at this time. Your attention is required elsewhere.”
“Fine.”
“Eight years ago, the Lwa Erzulie Freda and Baron Samedi were wed. This union affected the mortals of New Orleans by creating a period in which all death and bloodletting were ceased.”
“Ceased?” Jack said with a scoff. “Yeah right.”
“Specifically, those based in violence.”
“Violent deaths and bloodshed came to an end?”
“It was temporary.”
“Temporary or not, it would’ve been nice to live through that.”
“You are . . . well, you did.”
“Are you kidding?”
“I do not kid.”
“Well, I just figured you were.”
Bossu’s tone changed as if primed for a punch line. “Why?” he asked. “The essence of violent death and bloodletting is crime . . . you are aware of this, right?” Jack was looking up at the Lwa with incredulity as he listened to its condescending speech. Examining its hideous facial features, he was certain he detected a smile somehow forming at the ridged corners of its skeleton mouth. “The statement that you experienced the cessation of crime is factual. What makes you doubt it?”
“What makes me doubt it?” Jack bellowed as he flailed his arms. “You’re talking about crime, right? In New Orleans?”
“Correct.” Bossu’s reply was short and abrupt, keeping his tone from the imminent fever pitch.
Jack pointed toward the void at his back. “Have you been living under a rock, my guy? Crime is rampant! Just turn on the news—” Jack stopped dead.
“BAH HA-HA-HA!” At his host’s sudden realization, Bossu unleashed his long-held laughter, manifesting as irreverent guffaws that roared throughout the once-silent void.
He attempted to compose himself, but upon seeing Jack still catatonic with astonishment, the monster tossed its head back and laughed all the more.
While he waited for the titan to tire of laughing at him, Jack’s thoughts were on his recently revisited memory of the terminal. The locals had seemed so unsophisticated to him. It was just as the monster forewarned.
Indeed, Lou’s ridiculous theory was the most accurate, despite what Jack’s hubris led him to believe.
So, he thought, his mouth agape in the dark, I was the ignorant one? But that means my confidence was baseless . . . there was nothing legitimate about—
Jack was unable to complete the thought, it was all too humiliating.
Sputtering out an anxious breath, he remembered how he was going to boldly interject himself into their conversation.
How pitiful would he have appeared to them?
Jack felt like he had been tricked into becoming what he had prided himself on being so different from. It seemed so unjust as he did everything to avoid it and yet, he could not deny the Truth.
Although he thought it impossible, he was ignorant.
But . . . how could I have known?
He thought about his father and their countless discussions. Jack winced at all the times he had confidently spewed forth nonsense, but Josiah never made him feel stupid despite knowing the Truth.
Before allowing any feelings of resentment toward his father’s seeming refusal to set him straight, Jack sensed a self-effacing Truth floating just above the multitude of rationalizations vying for his attention.
Unlike the other explanations, this silent revelation seemed unwilling to assert itself, as if it did not care to be noticed.
You wouldn’t believe him anyway.
As Jack examined the thought, he sensed the throng of rationalizations fall away into the implausible.
It’s true, he said to himself. There was no way he could have convinced me and probably would’ve wound up being viewed with the same derision I had for the geezers at the terminal . . . damn.
This humbling revelation immediately turned his lurking resentment into something else. He was moved with regret as his thoughts shifted down a new path.
His father was unwilling to subject their relationship to any further strain and knew any attempt to dispel Jack’s illusions outright would only widen the distance between them.
That was the reason behind the restraint with which he spoke to him.
With new eyes, his father’s patience seemed limitless in retrospect.
Jack thought back to all the times he spoke so matter-of-factly about their “superstitious” culture, and his father would always respond with calm and calculated understanding.
As if handling something fragile.
Cracking a smile, Jack recalled the short discussion that took place in his room before he left for NYU. Josiah knew the Truth, and yet, he sought only to place Jack on the path that led to it.
Though Jack was currently filled with a newfound sense of shame, it was offset by an equally new reverence for his father.
Jack looked up at the still-laughing Lwa and took a deep breath before pretending to look at a nonexistent wristwatch. While he definitely was not offended, he still didn’t think his humiliation was this funny.
As he continued watching the Lwa, Jack began considering what it must have been like from the Lwa’s perspective.
Jack had already cut his mind off from any further telepathic probing, rendering his subsequent thoughts private.
This forced, or perhaps permitted, Bossu to watch the unfolding of his young host’s humiliating epiphany like a normal person would. He did not know what was going through Jack’s head and was left to go by the look on his face.
And to the Lwa’s delight, the highly anticipated expression did not disappoint.
Thinking back to how he felt at that moment, Jack could not help but snort out a laugh or two. I guess it was pretty funny, but damn . . . look at him go.
Bossu’s eyes were shut, totally oblivious to Jack, who had long since recovered his dignity.
Jack shuddered as he imagined the kind of existential crises he’d be left to suffer through if not for his father’s provision. Though he had not realized it at the time, he had made a brush with this terrifying state when rationalizing his hallucination at Carmen’s as a contact high.
Shaking his head, Jack tutted three times as he remembered Bossu’s rebuke. Sacrificing the intellect on pride’s altar. If it’s done even once, then follows a dumb commitment to nonstop concessions. He began biting his nails as he pondered further. And the delusion becomes more difficult to renounce after every new concession.
Jack was convinced that if Bossu had not made contact that second time, he would have believed his experiences that day were merely the result of Warren’s presence, regardless of how implausible.
No doubt, his intellect had been fated to make another sacrifice when stumbling on the Truth about New Orleans, since there was no way he would have been able to accept it.
Spitting out the bits of his nails, Jack began to fully appreciate the gravity of what he had been spared from. Calling it an existential crisis was not hyperbole.
Because of Dad, I was able to accept the Truth.
Recalling Josiah’s admission of failure, Jack felt the corners of his mouth drop as the words his father told him to remember suddenly echoed through his mind.
Giving up my life to ensure you become more than I can ever hope to be, that is my greatest accomplishment.
As gratitude and sorrow threatened to burst forth, Jack steadied himself against the ensuing torrent of emotion, unwilling to let Bossu see him cry. He relieved the pressure through short bits of controlled whimpering, wearing a look of sadness more expressive than any clown’s.
He heard the Lwa let out a deep and heavy sigh as its mirth finally relented.
Jack remembered the monster’s passing comment about his father; it was too accurate a eulogy not to be seconded.
Who better to do it than his own son?
“Well played, Dad,” he said aloud, laughing a bit as he wiped away the tears.
Bossu, having fully recovered, finally looked down.
“You’re making gains, whelp,” he breathed. “That’s two paradigms that have been destroyed. Perhaps you are fit to live in reality after all.”
The Lwa was obviously misinterpreting Jack’s tears.
Jack smiled, causing him to abandon his teasing. “Why are you looking at me like that?” Bossu asked.
Still smiling, Jack didn’t move a muscle as he stealthily reached out with his appendage and grasped the Lwa, reestablishing their telepathic link.
Sensing the hold, the bemused Lwa continued to stare. “What are you doing?”
Unsure how to direct his memories forward, Jack left it alone, but the smile on his face remained.
“Has your mind been torn asunder?” Bossu asked, seemingly concerned. “Or is this some desperate prank to save face?”
Jack sensed him beginning to probe his psyche. “Far from it.”
Bossu continued his psychic rifling. “Oh?”
“Yeah.”
“Interesting.”
Initially, Jack had been trying to observe as Bossu perused through the thoughts he missed during his bout of laughter, but the Lwa was too fast for Jack. Seeing as the entity had not been trying to evade him and it was just his natural pace, Jack decided to relax his focus and merely wait for the probing to be complete.
“Hmm,” Bossu began, as like the closing of a book, the probing stopped. “Hm hm . . . well played, Josiah.” He hummed through an exhale. “Well played, indeed.”
Jack released the psychic hold and, like a statue coming to life, clapped his hands together. “Indeed!” he said. “So . . . that’s why it stopped. I get that, but what made it start up again?”
Bossu stared, confused.
“The crime!” Jack hastily clarified. “Your statement about my living through its nonexistence was past tense, so it’s back up again?” Seeing Bossu beginning to reply, Jack quickly moved to finish his statement. “Also, that period coincides with my dad becoming full-time, which makes sense, I guess. That makes me the next Shadowman, right? You kept implying that time is of the essence, so how do we get started?”
Speechless, Bossu continued to stare at the revitalized youngster.
Over the millennia, the entity had become certain that he was no longer capable of feeling surprised, but in a span of only a few minutes, this boy had managed to make him feel that very way several times already.
What more was needed?
“Erzulie Freda has gone missing,” he replied. “That is why death and blood are soon to return.”
“Okay . . .” Jack said, continuing his pacing from before. “So because his woman is missing, Samedi is retaliating?”
“Not exactly, but you are free to see it that way for simplicity’s sake.”
“And Lwas can go missing? In a kidnapped kind of way?”
“Apparently.”
Silently walking to and fro, Jack looked up at Bossu. “You’re here telling me Dad died, time is short and all that, right?”
“I am.”
“How long after Freda disappeared did my dad die?”
For a moment, the Lwa appeared taken aback by the question. “Josiah died before the disappearance.”
Maintaining his stride, Jack immediately snapped his fingers in displeasure. “Damn,” he spat. “I was hoping you wouldn’t say that.”
“And why is that, whelp?”
“Because it means his death was orchestrated and all this was planned in advance, even my being left to fill his shoes.”
Bossu nodded approvingly. “Impressive,” he replied, “but your underlying assumption is mistaken.”
“How?”
“Josiah’s death was orchestrated by none other than himself. Your two subsequent deductions are correct, though.”
Jack stood still to properly bite his nails. “My dad killed himself?”
“Not exactly, but you are free to see it that way for simplicity’s sake.”
Bossu looked on as Jack stood in front of him, casually spitting the flecks out of his mouth. “But why?” he asked. “Why would my dad leave me holding the bag?”
“Because he knew what was coming and determined it was beyond his capability. He was correct in this assessment.”
PTTTTOOEYY! Jack jettisoned forth a piece of fingernail as if trying to land a headshot on the titan.
The Lwa said nothing, the impetuous act apparently escaping his notice.
Jack wiped his mouth. “So if it’s too much for him, why leave it to me?”
“You know the answer to that already,” the Lwa replied. “Josiah told you why. I saw it. Was that not the reason you started crying like a child, his greatest accomplishment? While it is true he determined himself incapable of standing against the forces about to be unleashed upon the mortal world, he also determined that you would be. He was correct in this assessment as well.”
Jack was beaming from the reminder of his father’s words. “Why?”
The Lwa hummed with a low growl. “As our being wrong is still a very real possibility, I am wary lest I do you hurt through compliments too high for your immaturity.” Jack gave a short eye roll as he folded his arms with a sigh. “You see? Therefore, I will limit my answer to this: Look at yourself.”
“Please,” Jack began, sounding exasperated, “no transcendental stuff, just keep it sim—”
“LOOK UPON YOURSELF, YOU INSUFFERABLE CREATURE!” Bossu’s enraged command echoed throughout the void.
“Fine,” Jack said in calm compliance, “I’m looking at myself.” He motioned with his hands and arms in an exaggerated manner, though they remained unseeable in the darkness, he directed his gaze as if astonished. “These are . . . hands, these are . . . sleeves.”
He stopped his sarcasm as he remembered how he sensed the void in the past. He had no physical form. Back then, Jack felt like he was watching and experiencing things from another person’s perspective, someone who just happened to follow his every thought, like a first-person video game. Now, however, he felt like himself.
“This . . . this is my physical body?”
“Your intellect is astounding, Jack,” Bossu replied. “Biting your nails and prancing about since arriving and it is only now you realize this.”
“Yeah, thanks.”
The Lwa continued. “I trust you recall my inquiry regarding your method of appearing in the void? It was because you are the first who has ever gained entry in such a way.” Jack seemed to be lost in deep contemplation as Bossu spoke. “That’s why I agree with your father.”
“That’s why, huh?” Jack asked, patting his body. “I guess I can accept that.”
“I am relieved.”
“It’s a bit much, though. This being my real body and all.”
