Nanowrimo Day 6
Nov. 8th, 2019 08:25 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
unknownfateI was up on the mountain last night and didn’t get any writing finished, so I had to try and make up for it tonight.
<cut text="Day 6”> Maggie tried reading the Bible to repel Russell, but it didn’t work. He knew it word for word, in different languages. It wouldn’t have been too unnerving if all he knew was Italian or maybe Latin since the Mazzas were first generation out of Italy. It might not’ve been terrifying if all he knew was Yiddish or Hebrew. Plenty of people were Jewish. Russell knew them all, though. He spoke perfect German to Al, Welsh to the Lloyds, and would hop back and forth with any other language you asked for. He could be just a very good faker, Kahl thought. It wasn’t like he or Maggie knew any of those languages except the bits and pieces that got picked up in a coal town. Russell could just be able to pretend well enough to fool anyone. Except Al and Lloyd were convinced. Maggie had been raised to believe that every word in the Bible was true or none of it was. To have this unwashed kid tell her things the Bible didn’t say with the confidence of someone who had been there was upsetting to her. Russell told her about the Book of Enoch and showed her the passages in Jude and Ezekiel that tied into it. Kahl didn’t understand it, and neither did the blackbirds or their wives. It infuriated and frightened Maggie enough that she took her Bible and went to talk to the pastor in the little church at the beginning of town. If Kahl would’ve had his way, he would’ve avoided Russell as carefully as he avoided going back down into the mines. The kid popped up all over the place though. He had to remind himself that it wasn’t really a dark-eyed, handsome young man but something more sinister, if Maggie was right. And she probably was. She had been raised with religion and knew more about it than her husband. Hopefully the pastor would tell her something that would comfort her and she would come and tell him, and they could both feel better about this mess. “This was bad enough before you showed up,” Kahl said. He didn’t even have to look to know Russ was there. He wondered what the Mazzas thought of their son surviving a deadly accident and then running off to hang out with strangers at all hours of the day and night. Did they know something was wrong or did they explain it away as a brush with death changing their son? As it was, he didn’t like to talk to the thing in a kid’s skin. He didn’t believe it when it said its name was Russell and he didn’t really want to encourage it by talking to it. But the truth of it was, that it was so much scarier to treat it like a demon than it was to treat it like a weird and unwelcome human. Maybe that was one of its deceptions; talk to it like a person, treat it like a person and maybe you’d start to think of it as one and forget what it really was. “It isn’t my fault that the local girls were so pretty,” Russell said. Kahl didn’t want to hear the explanation for that, so he didn’t ask. Russ grinned, probably reading his mind. He was still dirty and rumpled. Kahl wasn’t sure if he had changed clothes since he had appeared in their house that night. He didn’t stink the way a filthy teenager should. Kahl didn’t think he had ever seen him eat or drink. How long would the Mazza boy’s body last if Russ didn’t take care of it? That was a much safer question, so he did ask that one. Russell looked down at his arms and hands as if he wasn’t sure of the answer either. “The boy was dead,” he said. He said it like he was explaining it to a simpleton. “Dead boys don’t need food or water.” “You don’t smell dead,” Kahl said. It had been days. The body should’ve begun to decay by now. “I’m not,” Russ said. He only explained when was interested in the subject. He would make you ask a series of questions to get answers if he wasn’t. If he had been in one of Kahl’s teams, he would’ve been swatted a long time ago. Junie was keeping an eye on the two of them from a nearby porch. She was shelling peas for soup to take up to the sinkhole camp tomorrow, but her ears were wide open and she didn’t miss much. “What’s wrong with the Hudd brothers?” he asked instead. It might be better to keep the kid talking. “They like it,” Russ said. Sure enough, he didn’t mind changing the subject. “They like being filled up with it. They don’t have to think or worry or wonder. They just have to serve. Maybe that’s what it’s like to be an angel. Filled to the brim with otherworldly fire and not even the capacity to doubt or fear that whatever you happen to do is the will of the Almighty.” “Demons were angels once, weren’t they?” It wasn’t really a question. Kahl had only skimmed the Bible during church and read the passages that were expected of him at Christmas and Easter, but he knew the color plates in Maggie’s old family Bible well. The one of the fall of Lucifer was especially vivid. There were a lot of details in the wings burning. Russell, damn him, had the nerve to shrug. “What were any of us that long ago?” he said. “You pick now to play dumb?” “I only play when it’s a game,” Russell said. “Russell,” Junie said suddenly. Russell’s head whipped around like a startled deer’s. If anything, he looked surprised and delighted to be spoken to by someone new. Hopefully it was Kahl’s imagination that his neck made a soft creak like tough meat being stretched. “Make yourself useful,” Junie went on. “Run tell Myra Keller to give you some fatback for the soup and bring it back here for me.” “For you?” Russell said. “Of course.” He grinned at Kahl as if they were in competition for her and he had just scored a point. He went on his jaunty way and once he had passed what would be earshot for a normal human, Junie fixed one of her steely looks on Kahl. “Don’t encourage him,” she said. “You aren’t seeing how he eats up your attention. He’s like a cat watching a bird, waiting for you to talk to him or look at him. Whatever he wants, he wants it bad, and he thinks he can get it from you.” “I don’t know what to do,” Kahl admitted. “And I’m so tired of not knowing what to do that I’m willing to take help wherever it comes, I guess.” “Is he helping though? Or making it worse?” “You heard what he said about the Hudds. What if it’s true?” “What if it’s not and he just telling you enough to get you to the wrong answer?” “What if he’s deaf?” Russell asked cheerfully. He was standing in the doorway behind Junie on the porch, strips of fatback wrapped in paper held out to her. Kahl thanked all the angels in Heaven that Myra hadn’t let him carry it his grimy hands. There was nearly a whole coal mine under his fingernails alone. “Put it there,” Junie said, sharp as a knife. She refused to be startled or embarrassed, which Kahl was ashamedly grateful for, because it drew Russell’s attention away from him. “That’s two favors I’ve done for you,” Russell said to her. “That’s two favors you owe me.” “You don’t scare me,” Junie said, and if she was lying, Kahl couldn’t tell. “Good,” Russell said. He seemed as sincere as she did. “Frightened people are useless.” </cut>
<cut text="Day 6”> Maggie tried reading the Bible to repel Russell, but it didn’t work. He knew it word for word, in different languages. It wouldn’t have been too unnerving if all he knew was Italian or maybe Latin since the Mazzas were first generation out of Italy. It might not’ve been terrifying if all he knew was Yiddish or Hebrew. Plenty of people were Jewish. Russell knew them all, though. He spoke perfect German to Al, Welsh to the Lloyds, and would hop back and forth with any other language you asked for. He could be just a very good faker, Kahl thought. It wasn’t like he or Maggie knew any of those languages except the bits and pieces that got picked up in a coal town. Russell could just be able to pretend well enough to fool anyone. Except Al and Lloyd were convinced. Maggie had been raised to believe that every word in the Bible was true or none of it was. To have this unwashed kid tell her things the Bible didn’t say with the confidence of someone who had been there was upsetting to her. Russell told her about the Book of Enoch and showed her the passages in Jude and Ezekiel that tied into it. Kahl didn’t understand it, and neither did the blackbirds or their wives. It infuriated and frightened Maggie enough that she took her Bible and went to talk to the pastor in the little church at the beginning of town. If Kahl would’ve had his way, he would’ve avoided Russell as carefully as he avoided going back down into the mines. The kid popped up all over the place though. He had to remind himself that it wasn’t really a dark-eyed, handsome young man but something more sinister, if Maggie was right. And she probably was. She had been raised with religion and knew more about it than her husband. Hopefully the pastor would tell her something that would comfort her and she would come and tell him, and they could both feel better about this mess. “This was bad enough before you showed up,” Kahl said. He didn’t even have to look to know Russ was there. He wondered what the Mazzas thought of their son surviving a deadly accident and then running off to hang out with strangers at all hours of the day and night. Did they know something was wrong or did they explain it away as a brush with death changing their son? As it was, he didn’t like to talk to the thing in a kid’s skin. He didn’t believe it when it said its name was Russell and he didn’t really want to encourage it by talking to it. But the truth of it was, that it was so much scarier to treat it like a demon than it was to treat it like a weird and unwelcome human. Maybe that was one of its deceptions; talk to it like a person, treat it like a person and maybe you’d start to think of it as one and forget what it really was. “It isn’t my fault that the local girls were so pretty,” Russell said. Kahl didn’t want to hear the explanation for that, so he didn’t ask. Russ grinned, probably reading his mind. He was still dirty and rumpled. Kahl wasn’t sure if he had changed clothes since he had appeared in their house that night. He didn’t stink the way a filthy teenager should. Kahl didn’t think he had ever seen him eat or drink. How long would the Mazza boy’s body last if Russ didn’t take care of it? That was a much safer question, so he did ask that one. Russell looked down at his arms and hands as if he wasn’t sure of the answer either. “The boy was dead,” he said. He said it like he was explaining it to a simpleton. “Dead boys don’t need food or water.” “You don’t smell dead,” Kahl said. It had been days. The body should’ve begun to decay by now. “I’m not,” Russ said. He only explained when was interested in the subject. He would make you ask a series of questions to get answers if he wasn’t. If he had been in one of Kahl’s teams, he would’ve been swatted a long time ago. Junie was keeping an eye on the two of them from a nearby porch. She was shelling peas for soup to take up to the sinkhole camp tomorrow, but her ears were wide open and she didn’t miss much. “What’s wrong with the Hudd brothers?” he asked instead. It might be better to keep the kid talking. “They like it,” Russ said. Sure enough, he didn’t mind changing the subject. “They like being filled up with it. They don’t have to think or worry or wonder. They just have to serve. Maybe that’s what it’s like to be an angel. Filled to the brim with otherworldly fire and not even the capacity to doubt or fear that whatever you happen to do is the will of the Almighty.” “Demons were angels once, weren’t they?” It wasn’t really a question. Kahl had only skimmed the Bible during church and read the passages that were expected of him at Christmas and Easter, but he knew the color plates in Maggie’s old family Bible well. The one of the fall of Lucifer was especially vivid. There were a lot of details in the wings burning. Russell, damn him, had the nerve to shrug. “What were any of us that long ago?” he said. “You pick now to play dumb?” “I only play when it’s a game,” Russell said. “Russell,” Junie said suddenly. Russell’s head whipped around like a startled deer’s. If anything, he looked surprised and delighted to be spoken to by someone new. Hopefully it was Kahl’s imagination that his neck made a soft creak like tough meat being stretched. “Make yourself useful,” Junie went on. “Run tell Myra Keller to give you some fatback for the soup and bring it back here for me.” “For you?” Russell said. “Of course.” He grinned at Kahl as if they were in competition for her and he had just scored a point. He went on his jaunty way and once he had passed what would be earshot for a normal human, Junie fixed one of her steely looks on Kahl. “Don’t encourage him,” she said. “You aren’t seeing how he eats up your attention. He’s like a cat watching a bird, waiting for you to talk to him or look at him. Whatever he wants, he wants it bad, and he thinks he can get it from you.” “I don’t know what to do,” Kahl admitted. “And I’m so tired of not knowing what to do that I’m willing to take help wherever it comes, I guess.” “Is he helping though? Or making it worse?” “You heard what he said about the Hudds. What if it’s true?” “What if it’s not and he just telling you enough to get you to the wrong answer?” “What if he’s deaf?” Russell asked cheerfully. He was standing in the doorway behind Junie on the porch, strips of fatback wrapped in paper held out to her. Kahl thanked all the angels in Heaven that Myra hadn’t let him carry it his grimy hands. There was nearly a whole coal mine under his fingernails alone. “Put it there,” Junie said, sharp as a knife. She refused to be startled or embarrassed, which Kahl was ashamedly grateful for, because it drew Russell’s attention away from him. “That’s two favors I’ve done for you,” Russell said to her. “That’s two favors you owe me.” “You don’t scare me,” Junie said, and if she was lying, Kahl couldn’t tell. “Good,” Russell said. He seemed as sincere as she did. “Frightened people are useless.” </cut>
