The Curse Of The Moloch (19)
Chapter Thirty-eight Jeremiah lumbering feet barely touched the ground as he quickly scurried from the gravesite of Miz' Jezebel, his revengeful mother. Terror was etched together with a sickening grin on his florid face; His body trembled in fear and cold sweat trickled from every pore Jumbled phrases coursed his spittled mouth that was repeated over and over, "Me mammy's ah sendin' th' Moloch after me! Ah hear them a-comin'" The puzzled citizens watched the crazed figure as he ran in his terror through the paths of the settlement. No one stopped Jeremiah in his madness; they just stared and wondered, "Now what ails thet pore critter?" A couple of shiftless youngsters braved the crazed sight and yelledtaunts, "Jeremiah's gone loco!" But at a slight turn by the maddened figure, the heckling tormentors showed their bravery by fleeing from him. Jeremiah ran to an abandoned watchman's shack near the closed colliery, which served as his shelter since the fire. With trembling hands he unlatched the lock, and quickly entered the shaded room. He pushed hard on the door as he shut and bolted it as if to exclude the figments of his terror of his mind from entering. The fearful figure leaned his bulky body heavily on the locked thin portal as an added bit of security Then from the depth of his fantasy he heard the chanting voices and the marching feet of the worshippers to the fire god, the Moloch."Thar a' comin' t' take me t' th' Moloch!" The feared thoughts raced through his mind. Suddenly he heard heavy knocking on the door. Then a voice called out, "Jeremiah, Jeremiah", but the good preacher of the chapel received no answer. Some concerned citizens of the recent happening told the cleric by Miz' Jezebel's boy, and he came to inquire of his welfare. Since the accident, that took the life of Miz' Jezebel, the recently departed mother of Jeremiah, the preacher and his good woman considered it a solemn duty to look after the poor haunted creature. The feared form was rooted by the call of his name as he thought it was the voice of a heathen worshipper searching for him. He breathed a moment of relief when he heard the retreating steps of the cleric. After a few minutes Jeremiah was able to move away from his rooted spot at the door. Slowly he made his way to his cot; there, by its side, was a wooden box with his meager possessions, charitable gifts from neighbors and kin. With stealth in the fear of making a sound, Jeremiah removed a small coarse sack from the box, and carefully filled it with his washing kit, a Bible, a couple of shirts, and a patched pair of trousers. He stopped in the packing for a moment and listened fearfully for any sounds at the outside of the shack. Hearing none, he quickly knotted the sack and shouldered it; then he opened the door and quickly hurried away from his miserable hovel. Jeremiah footsteps avoided the paths leading to the settlement, as he was fearful of discovery by the minions of the fire god, the Moloch. He skirted the abandoned buildings and works of the colliery, making his way along the rail lines to the climbing wooded hills. Every time a stranger passed near, Jeremiah hid amoungst the spindly pines. Unknown noises caused him to stop in his flight; his mind was still filled the threat of being dragged to the sacrificial pit of the Moloch. Only when the threatening sounds dissappeared he continued on the path. Shadow spirits whispered and flew about him as he searched out the safety of darkened forest. The demons in the trees and bushes tried to stop him with their barbed branches but to no avail; the spirits of the winds blew their blight but he ignored the signs. He continued and trudged along; his heavy tread cracked the thin twigs and crunched the decayed leafs as he trudged deeper through the mystery of the wood. He reached the flowing stream that meandered through the shadow of the forest; there he paused as his laboured breath was pounding his lungs causing the gulping of the precious air. He sat on the ground near the cooling flow of the waters and rested his tired and trembling flesh. Within time his breath returned to its normal pace; then he knelt above the stream and slowly drank its refreshing ice-cold contents. Then suddenly he saw a slim figure at a near distance staring at him; its hair evoked a recent memory, and flashed its threat to him. Unknown to him, the red-haired figure was only a young girl on the run, fleeing from the anger of her folks; they had punished her for soliciting her young figure for coin. From her reddish hair to the clothes on her back were signs of dishevelment showing quick flight. She was only sixteen years of age but her body told of their retribution upon her for the slavery of sex. Her once pretty face sported a blackening eye and scratches on one of her cheeks, and she was marked with black and blue marks on many parts of her body. Through the dimming shade of the forest frightened girl spotted the blurred sight of Jeremiah Micaiah. The shadowy figure dressed in a wide brim hat and long coat, signed to the trembling girl as a member of the forces of the law. She shook in her fear of the thought of her return to her damning shack and to the fury of her parents. Without reason she fowarded her arms in the act of pleading. But to Jeremiah's sight, only the colour of the girl's hair was noticed; the same colour of hair that crowned the head of Miz' Jezebel, his haunting mother. Deep terror welled in his demented mind as he feared that his mother had returned from the depths of hell to haunt him; and when finished in her torment, she would drag him to the Moloch and the pit of fire. The demons, the shadow spirits and the monsters of the deep outer world circled around on their cloven hooves on the leaf-strewn soil; shadow spirits winged with tattered wings flew about in the wisping air. Round and around they circled him taunting him to the madness. As the girl stared at him, Jeremiah blotted out the sight of her youthful features, and he only saw the vicious face of Miz' Jezebel, his haunting mother calling out for revenge. The girl's raised arms were to him clawing hands of the corrupt form of his kin trying to grab and drag him to her revenge. Jeremiah shouted in a slurred tongue that she would not haunt him. Again and again he flung garbled words at the apparition of his fantasy. He dropped his sack and picked up a hefty branch and ran towards the frightened girl. The girl saw the coming danger in her eyes, and she realized immediately that the figure was not a member of the law but that crazed creature known throughout the settlement as Jeremiah, the lunatic who talks to strange creatures. The frightened girl pulled back from his gaze and seizing an opportunity turned and tried to flee from this crazed figure. As she ran the branches of the bushes imepededed her and a hidden root tripped her. The girl tried to escape from the approaching terror by crawling on her hands and knees. She let out a scream as he hovered over with the branch raised to strike. The first blow by the thick branch knocked her down. As the maddened figure raised the cudgel again, the frightened girl turned her body, covered her bleeding head and screamed out, "Please mister don' hit me agin'. Ah bein' a good gal, honest." But the blow struck her red scalp harder as Jeremiah heard her words as only a threat to be taken to the Moloch. Over and over the thick branch wielded by Jeremiah found its mark on the red of the girl's head until he was held back by another attack of heavy gasping of breath. The shadow spirits of the forest were silent as Jeremiah surveyed the savagery of his blows upon the red of the girl's scalp. Blood and brain tissues flowed through the cracked skull and the sight caused satifaction to Jeremiah. He yelled out in a stuttering voice, "This 'll stop yer durn hauntin'. Take yer hide back t' th' devil. Ye'll not take me t' th' Moloch," and after repeating it again turned, retrieved his sack and fled from the scene of the bloody carnage…. Chapter Thirty-nine Jeremiah Micaiah ran along the edge of the stream; his run along the stony banks was exhausting, causing erratic pumping of his heart muscles and wheezing of his laboured breath. He imagined demons and other evil creatures of the forest were following him, and he heard the sound of their dreadful curses on his very being. They were angry with him for the fouling of the earth, "You carry death out of your home, you bring death into the forest." They danced around him and hounded him with the imprecations of the evil eye, from evil spirits and evil tormentors. Jeremiah heard their words and cried out in terror; and he swooned in the damnation of their words. Jeremiah awoke in the late darkness in the mystery of the deep forest. Ishata, one of the demonesses of the night, was there on his awakening causing fever of the brow and deep thirst in his parched throat. The prodding of the forked fingers of the demoness Shibetta caused him dull aching pain throughout his brain. Without thought of the warning of the believers to be beware of the Shabriri, the demoness of the water, Jeremiah ran to the flowing stream. There he drank fully the cool waters till his thirst was quenched; then he bathed his fevered brow in the coolness of the liquid till he felt signs of the receding ache on his forehead. Before Jeremiah could fully enjoy the comfort of the refreshing water, his eyes flash the fantasy of his mind, and he saw in his deep imagination the rustling of the bushes near the stream. "Shabriri", he exclaimed in the terror of his fantasy. He rose from the stream and removed himself as fast as he could; his eyes searched through the darkness. Then Jeremiah saw a figure formed in mist of the forest and illuminated by the rays of the full moon. Shabriri, dressed in the black of her evil spirit, appeared before him in a haunting apparition. The demoness grinned wickedly at Jeremiah; then she pointed a finger at him and began to inflict her curse, "For drinking of the waters in the fullness of the night you will feel my burden upon you." The accursed felt the prickling of his clammy skin and the flowing of the wind that tossled every hair on his scalp. Jeremiah faced the cursing tormentor, trembling at the sight of the terrible vision and of her damning curse. He rummaged desperately through his mind, and mumbling words found their way on his thick lips. Then he cried out, "Shabriri, Riri, Iri, Ri." Shabriri screamed and writhed in the snare and promised anything to be freed. The accursed, more in fear than mercy, simply nodded; whereas the demoness lifted her damning curse. The mist dissapeared along with the threat to Jeremiah; whereas he felt momentary relief. In the wan light of the clear night he saw small black patches on the exposed skin of his hands, and in the reflection of the water he noticed strands of white mixed with the brown of his tossled hair. Jeremiah didn't hesitate in his fear. He replaced his hat on head, shouldered his bundle, and quickly turned his heels away from the accursed spot and the possible return of Shabriri. As he trotted through the dark of the woods, shadow spirits whispered about him with the coldness of their breath, and the demons of the trees lashed at him mercilessly with their overhanging branches. There was no rest in his fears. He ran till he saw the shimmering metal of rail tracks coursing in the light of the moon. Jeremiah, in its safety, took that needed rest to clear his asthmatic breathing; he bent foward in the pain of his lungs as the clear air entered his throat. He remained on the tracks till the choking misery cleared; then he lifted himself from the comfort of the metal and followed the line to whatever destination it held. Suddenly through the stillness a night train blasted its siren, that signalled its approach, and Jeremiah had to stand on their nearby rocky siding as it roared by. The noise of the train engulfed him as it passed and the thrown dirt and smoke temporarily blinded his vision; as his sight cleared he saw the train motionless on the tracks in the near distance. Chapter Forty Jeremiah watched from the thickness of the nearby bushes as the train engine's boiler was being filled from the nearby water tower. His alert tense senses picked up the sound of the clang of metal as milk containers were taken into one of its freight cars. A few figures where in sight who could be heard chatting and laughing. Jeremiah saw one man sign a paper on clipboard and pass it to an official from the train. Then a loud whistling signal was heard. Upon the sound the overhanging rubber hose from the water tower was removed from the engine. Then with a blast from its siren, the train roared in its steam and chugged into motion. From his hiding place Jeremiah waited until the lights of the depot were extinguished which marked its closing. He received additional notice of its emptimpness by the sound of the revving of an automobile as it warmed up before leaving to some destination. He looked towards the dark of the station; and he saw the watchman with his lantern moving about for his customary check. Jeremiah watched as the guard entered one of the depot rooms, and within a short space of time, the lamp was extinguished. The saliva of hunger flowed in Jeremiah's mouth as he waited and watched. Time passed slowly and the pangs of hunger increased with the passing of each second. Sweat formed on his brow as he carefully left his hiding place. With stealth he moved along hidden spots consisting of a sided freight wagon, a pile of wooden boxes, and the odd bits of collected rubbish. Bobbing about he made his way to the boundary of the depot to the trash bins; the cans were partially hidden by a shaggy growth of shrubbery. Four battered garbage cans, carelessly uncovered awaited; all filled with the offerings of rotten left-over food from the hash and bean joint that adjoined the depot. At first Jeremiah was sickened by the smells, but his craving for food overcame the stench. With a delicate movement of his right hand he managed to rummage through a recent batch of garbage, and within the mess he found some edible scraps. He filled his hat quickly with a couple of slices of dried bread, a half-eaten steak and a lucky find of shrivelled vegetables cleared from the eatery's fridge. A found handless pot was cleaned and filled with water from the nearby tap; Jeremiah used the same faucet’s water for a quick rinse of his hands and a splash on his face. Jeremiah hurried back to his hiding place; as he placed his bulky body on the hard ground, the contents of his hat partially spilled out but he managed to hold tight to the spilling pot of water. The pangs of his desperate hunger forced him to overlook the disgusting mess in front of his eyes, and in his desperation gorged the leftovers. The salvaged water had a better taste as it was fresh but the food, despite its source, was only accepted by its need. The hefty figure tried to relax after the meal, but some inner instinct warned him to search out a better hiding place as he might be seen through the bushes during the daylight hours. Jeremiah again left the safety of the bushes, and like a hunted animal searched out the area. The hidden friendly companions of his fantasy joined in the search; they directed him to a tottering broken caboose railed on a rusty siding some distance from the depot. The friendly shadow spirits edged him on and within time he found the narrow entrance to his new hiding spot. The inside of the car was strewn with a lot of junk and to Jeremiah's luck, a mattress was found with its straw spilling out from tears in its fabric; within was the lair of biting foul vermin. Jeremiah cleared a corner of the car, placed bit of junk to conceal the space, and then dragged the battered mattress to it. With a found flat piece of metal he whacked it to chase away some of the many legged insects; then he placed it on the cleared floor. It didn't take long for him to find its comfort and drift into a deep sleep; in his tiredness the fears of his mind didn't disturb him that night. But the nights following were filled with the evil curse of the Moloch, forcing him to be awake at the dark of the night. Only the day, with its light, kept the demons of his fantasy away and he was able to have a bit of sleep, despite the nagging bites of the hungry insects. Jeremiah remained at the caboose for a few days, scrounging the bins for his food and water at night and sleeping restlessly during the daylight. He filled in the remainder of the time by quietly talking to his friendly spirits. His appearance told of his plight; his clothes and body were dirty and rich in human odour, and his face was reddened by his poor attempts of shaving. He looked and acted like a vagrant constantly on the lookout for any strangers that might find his hideout. There was another fear, that he was to be found by the searching Miz' Jezebel, his vengeful mother, who will take him to the sacrificial pit of the Moloch. The apparition of Miz Jezebel came on the seventh day near his hiding place. On that day Jeremiah heard the loud clash of cymbals banging over and over. Fear ranged throughout his body as it heralded, in the madness of his mind, the coming of minions of the fire god. Crashing through the junk he left the safety of his hiding place to search out fearful sound. Slowly he emerged from the narrow opening of the rail car, ever so fearful of the unknown and the unseen. He searched about with his eyes for the clashing sound of the primitive cymbals. He looked about the area of the depot and to his horror he saw the haunting figure of Miz' Jezebel, the figure of retribution, near the garbage bins; her glaring dyed red hair was the damning sign of her presence. In the fantasy of his simple mind she was seen as directing the Moloch to his hiding place with the sound of her clashing on the brass cylinders. The red haired woman, sighted by him, was simply the scullery cleaner of the hash and bean joint; a slatterny character in the late forties. Her slovenly appearance told of her miserable drunken existence that left her hard-bitten and careless. She had started her early morning work by coming to the garbage bins to unload the trash of stale leftovers from the kitchen. The clashing noise was her attempt of removing a stubborn piece of garbage stuck to her pail, namely by banging it heavily on the trash bin. She pushed aside a lock of her dyed red hair, and with an expletive on her cigarette held lips, she gave an hefty whack of the pail on the trash bin; then she laughed hoarsely at her success of dislodging the stubborn mess. Jeremiah only saw the red of this woman's hair, nothing more. The plaguy colour reminded him of the fiery red of Miz' Jezebel, the haunting figure of his spiteful mother. The sight brought the reminder of her dreadful curse, which told of bringing him to the fire god, the Moloch; and as the thought ranged through his mind, it caused him to shiver in fear. In his inner sense he thought of the need to drive her back to her abode in hell. Evil monsters and creatures of the nether world crept into his mind and taunted him to action. He loped quickly towards her with a slurred scream, "The Moloch, the Moloch... ye 'll not take me t' th' Moloch!" As he ran he managed to snatch a rusty piece of iron from the ground. "Wha' th' hell?" exclaimed the surprised woman as, in her eyes, it looked like a crazed tramp that was charging at her; then her surprise increased as she saw the mean looking weapon his hand. As Jeremiah neared her she swung her pail towards his head that found its mark, momentarily stunning him. As she repeated her efforts, she let out loud hoarse screams for help. It came speedily in the form of the burly owner of cafe followed by one of his early morning patrons. The sight of the ensuing struggle quickened their pace to assist; they shouted and threatened the would-be attacker as they ran towards him. Jeremiah heard and saw them and his only thought was the return of the worshippers to the fire god. It caused him abject terror and he was forced him to stop in the attempt to drive his so-called mother back to the nether world; then without any further hesitation he quickly turned on his heels.
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