The Curse Of The Moloch (20)
The two men who took her back to the eatery placated the woman, in turn. "Must be some crazy bum with too much likker' in 'im," they consoled her. "I'll put in a call t' th' sheriff." But the line to the official's office was constantly busy and with a gruff word or two, the owner promised he would attend to the matter at a later time. Jeremiah, after running some distance, found a clump of bushes at the boundary of the forest, which he thought afforded him good coverage from his pursuers. He hid in the deep of the foliage with the sound of a pounding drum rumbling in his ears. All the vile creatures of the underworld that coursed his imagination circled him. He did not stir from his hiding spot, not even to drive away the evil apparitions of his mind. Only after an ounce of courage that emerged from his trembling body, he slowly moved about, and with the upward movement of his arms drove away the fearful phantoms. The reappearance of his imaginary friendly spirit companions assured him and he was able to relax. After some time he carefully pushed aside the foliage and peered out towards the direction of the depot. He looked around for a long time and was puzzled at the missing worshippers that had been baying after him. Jeremiah, bent slightly, slowly emerged from his covering, ever so cautiously, in order to have a better view. Still no pursuers were in sight. He straightened himself and again stared deeply towards the station. Feeling secure, Jeremiah's legs found the returning path to his former hiding place in the old caboose. He moved the bulk of his body taking care not to emit any sounds, but his imaginary companions were not disturbed as they followed him. Only the fluttering of a bird or the scampering of a small animal would send a signal of fright through the hefty man's body. He would freeze in his stance, check the noise, and when he found that it poised no danger carried on. It was some time when Jeremiah reached the safety of the rail car, and with a quick look about scampered through its narrow opening. The interior walls added to his security, and he slowly skirted the gathered debris to the mattress where he flopped down and lay in the dirt of his clothes and the rank smell of body. � � � Chapter Forty-one The dishevelled and unshaven figure was jolted to awaking by harsh sounds of the siren and the screeching brakes of the night train as it slowed to the entrance of the station. Jeremiah's body was soaked with the sweat of the night terror that filled him with nightmares of demons, devils... and the haunting spirit of the ghostly phantom of Miz' Jezebel, the feared shadow of his avenging mother. The nightmare of the terrifying apparitions sent chills of fear through his demented thought, a constant reminder of the coming of the Moloch, the god of sacrifice. Jeremiah sat hunched in the corner of the caboose and just stared. From time to time he shook his woozy head to clear the haunting fears from his simple mind. After sitting and staring in darkness of his hiding place, the friendly creatures returned to his fantasy. Their inviting presence assured him of safety from the feared phantoms that plagued him. They circled about him and in the fluttering of their wings in a frenzied motion goaded him to immediate action. They were a reminder of the continual danger that he faced at the station. Without additional promting the bulky figure lifted himself from the mattress, toted his sack of meager possessions, and bungled about the dark till he found exit to the caboose. It was a cloudy night with barely the glimpse of the moon. He searched around and saw in the near distance the glaring light of the depot; alongside was a stationary freight train. The engine was being serviced, and one of it wagons was being loaded. Jeremiah carefully made his way to the station. A scraggly bush along its borders offered him a hidden spot that allowed a sighted check of the surroundings. Looking about he saw that the few figures around the depot were busy in their various jobs, and on that note he quickly made his way towards the train. At the darkened side he walked with caution along the freight cars until he found one open and empty. He looked about and seeing all was clear, climbed the small attached rungs, and hefted himself inside. The dishevelled figure moved to a corner of the car and slowly sat down in the safety of it darkness. Tiredness drained his body and he drifted into a fitful sleep filled with the terrors of his inner mind. Jeremiah didn't hear the sound or feel the vibrations of the moving train as he moaned and tossed in the throes of nightmares. It was early dawn as Jeremiah awoke to the screeching sound of the air brakes of the train as it slowed its speed at a sharp turn on the winding rail line. The whirling motion of the wheels on the track slowly increased in its momentum as it completed the turning round the bend. The feel of the train's movement assured the hulky figure of his continued journey and he was able to relax the tension in his body. Then he heard another sound a clap of thunder. A flash of lightning that lighted the clouded darkness of the early morning sky followed it. Jeremiah looked towards the opening of the freight car at the receding storm. Suddenly he saw something that was strange to his eyes. Through the falling rain and flash of lightning he saw two moving figures as they slowly attempted to climb into the moving freight wagon. The first body came and it crawled on his hands and knees on the floor of the car as he tried to catch his deep breathing. Then a fierce flash of lightning coursed the sky that illuminated the half torso of the second figure trying to lift himself into the car. Jeremiah froze in fear as the sighted growing figure was crowned with damning reddish hair. In his demented mind it could only be the menacing form of Miz' Jezebel, the phantom of his damning mother. The sight of the damning colour sent tremors of fear through Jeremiah. Without hesitation he lifted himself from the hidden corner, and grabbing his tote bag ran towards the cursed sight. Shouting crazily, "The Moloch, the Moloch!" he swung the bag on the flaring ruddy head of the encroaching figure. The unknown person raised his arm to ward off other blows, but Jeremiah saw it only as a claw skeletal hand trying to grab him. "Get y' back t' hell, get y' back," he screamed as he aimed another blow at the struggling figure's damning red. The blow stunned the man that forced him to release his grasping fingers from his hold on the attached sliding door, and caused his body to swing under the carriage. A short hideous scream was heard as the figure was thrown under the crushing revolving wheels. The second man stared in fright at the menacing figure and in his terror grovelled on his body to the opening of the car. Slowly he crawled taking care in avoiding the attention of this madman. Then with a supreme effort flung himself from the moving car. Only death greeted him and not his want of safety, as his body fell into a wide stinking swamp. Jeremiah Micaiah felt the exertion of his effort as he paused near the opening of the wagon. His laboured breath came in spasms from the terror that ensued. As he stood another flash of lighting and a clasp of thunder coursed throught the mist of the rain. As the noise rumbled he only heard it as a damning oath; Eshata we-araya, yah yah, In the name I-am-who-I-am, Spirits that rule this world, May you be melted, be annulled, be broken!" He looked up and saw a bronze calf-headed figure staring.... � � Chapter Forty-Two It was early morning as the freight train rumbled through the criss-cross tracks of its final destination, slowly chugging along the gleaming steel rails. It shrill siren blasted away, announcing its arrival. The freight station was reached. The train, with its air brakes screaming and hissing ground to a halt, coupled with the jolting and banging of its wagons against each other. The braking of the wheels and the noise of the siren together with the jolting of the car startled Jeremiah to awaking from his miserable rest. He looked out through the opening and saw through the misty morning air the finality of his trip, which was the freight yard of some unknown city. Slowly he lifted himself from the hidden corner, and with the ache of tired limbs still in his body, moved to the opening of the freight wagon. As he ambled along, he searched through his tote bag for bits of hoarded food to temper his growing hunger. At the opening he stretched his foul smelling body, straining in the effort to stem the ache of tiredness. "Tis a good feelin' t' me aching body...", as for a few moments he performed a bit of exercise, namely the waving of his arms and the shaking of his thick legs. Then he searched with his eyes through the area of the freight yard and was puzzled as to his where a bouts. The incessant drizzle of rain did not deter him from leaving the freight train and continuing on his way from the curse of his Miz' Jezebel, the ever-vengeful figure of his mother. Seeing no one about to call attention to his presence, he slowly climbed the rungs down to the rock-filled sleepers. Then he saw it! It was the Evil Eye, surrounded by the gore of damnation stuck to the side of one of the wheels of the freight car. It was the single eye of the powers of darkness, the all-seeing evil eye of the Satan, omnipotent and omnipresent. The evil eye of the Prince of Darkness glared menacingly as it burned deeply its destructive misery into his very soul. The feared figure trembled at the sight and within the deep imagination of his mind coursed the chant of retribution for his sin and the fantasy of the deep abode of eternal hell. His head exploded with the sounds of a primitive celebration to the sacrifice of fire. Louder and ever so louder it boomed. The loud noise turned to a continual shouting, threatening and full of vile, "Hey there, y' durn bummer!" It startled Jeremiah to awakening and he turned his sight away from the remanant of the body he threw from the train; whereas he saw a running figure at a short distance with a menacinging truncheon waving in the air. "Git away frum thet train y' dirty tramp!" the yelling increased as a member of the yard police trotted towards him. Jeremiah didn't need any per suasion or the advice of the friendly spirits to tell of the danger. He ran as fast as he dared as he made his way through the jumble of the intertwining tracks and switches. Finally he reached the wired fence fence at the boundry of the freight yard; a torn section provided him with an opening. He bulky body barely fit as he climbed through; a small piece of his coat on a protruding wire told of his attempt to squeeze through. Then Jeremiah coursed through the mean streets in the tiredness of his limbs and the shortness of his breath, as he still feared the yard policeman. Jeremiah could run no more, and he searched for safety of the nearby buildings. One building looked deserted with an opening to a basement door. He ran down its stairs and found the needed shelter in front of the locked rusting iron portal. The derelict collapsed on the hard cement floor from the breathless exertion of his running. His head whirled dizzily and he fell into deep unconsiousness.. � � Chapter Forty-three Jeremiah Micaiah awoke in large white room lined with a row of beds on both sides filled with white and gray covered figures. Through the bright lights he saw that he, too, was covered in a white sheet and a grayish woolen blanket. He felt around his body and found that it was clean and covered with a thin gown, opened in the back; then he felt his face and found that it was properly shaven as well as the scalp on his head. Before he was able to utter his fears, he was faced by a menacing black figure, draped in white. He tried to escape from her sight but the tightness of the sheet and weakness of his feverish body prevented it. The dusky matron looked at him and laughingly said, "Ah see that you ar' awake sonny boy... Man you shore did stink real bad. Stunk up th' whole ward! Now take it easy. Whoa, whoa! D'y hear me, ah ain't gonna do you no harm. Now lie still. Y' ar' a mighty sick man and y' be needing lots of rest. Now, take it easy. That's a' good lil' man." Jeremiah looked into her broad cheerful face and was somewhat assured by her gentle words which calmed his fears. Seeing that her patient was subdued by her comforting words, the matron proceeded to tell her patient of how he got to the hospital. She spoke in an offhand way, mixed with chuckling from the depth of her throat. She told how the police had found him unconcious in a doorway; then they tried to revive him but with no success. So they called for an ambulance that brought him to the emergency room at the city hospital. That's be th' whole story, frum beginin' t' end, sonny boy," she chuckled at the finish of her words. The matron's stout body shook like jelly in the white of her uniform as she laughingly continued. "Man, y' were shore dirty an' real lousy an' messy!" she repeated as her words told how the orderlies had cut away his smelly clothing and deposed of them quickly before they contaminated the ward; all they left were his boots. "Don't y' worry none. Y'll not leave this place naked. We'll fix y' up with some duds. Not th' best of fashion, but clean." The swarthy attendant continued by telling how the orderlies cleaned, shaved and deloused him, "Man, were you marked real bad with bites. Them nasty bugs really 'ad a feast on y'!" Her phrases told of the examination of the doctor, and his diagnosis was that the patient was on the border of pneumonia; that within the period of three or four days he should be on his feet. "Now, I'v a real nice surprise fer you man," as the matron wheeled in a stainless-steel cart laden with two covered containers filled with welcoming food. "First you must take yer pills, sonny boy," as she handed him a few capsules. She didn't tell him that two of the pills were heavy tranquilizers reserved for indigent patients; tramps, bummers and the rest of the ilk that had caused trouble to the staff in the past. This patient was not different in sight and was treated as a potential troublemaker. The matron knew of the fierce struggle the police had with him before his admittance to the hospital; he was delirious and terrified as he called out over and over again some strange word - Moloch. Then the matron cranked up the bed until her patient was in a sitting position; then she wheeled the cart next to the bed, and proceeded to feed him from the hot food from the uncovered containers. Jeremiah did not need any prompting as he gulped each spoonful offered to him, finishing to the last morsel. "Well, you were real hungry, gobbled each bitty bite lickety-split," she laughingly remarked when he finished. "Now another nice lil surprise!" and she produced a plastic bedpan and she quickly loosened the sheets to place its coldness under his loins. "Now, youse be a good boy an' fill it.." Jeremiah lived in the fog of the tranquilizers and the nightly sleeping pills that chased away the spirits and devils, both good an evil, from his mind. He simply spent the four days required stay at the hospital charity ward under the ministrations of the kindly matron, whose amusing ways consoled him in the hidden mist of his misery. His quizzical look on his face showed his concern, but the constant smirk on his florid features told a different story, one of hidden madness and fear. His discharge came quickly. There was the doctor's cursory examination that found him fit and well enough to leave the hospital. He was dressed in carbolic smelling clothes from the slop shop, and he received the charitable gift of tolietries and a towel. Jeremiah felt the bitteress of the social worker whose lack of charity was shown cleary as Jeremiah signed the welfare document; she spoke harshly to him as she instructed him to find a place to live and to earn his daily bread.
Go to part: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23
Copyright © 2002 Norman A Rubin |