Eli

Eli . . .

Eelii . . .

Footsteps on the cold stone of the darkened hallway

Coming for me, coming in the whistling dark

Run and hide, hide where He won't find me My feet go pitter patter

The flames flutter in their iron flickering shadows they cast

Try one door then the next but they're all locked, pull and pull but they won't open

Growing louder getting closer I'm so afraid

(St. Michael the archangel defend us in battle . . .)

Chapter 15

11 AUGUST 1983 – 9:30 p.m.

Maria woke up in the dark, sticky-mouthed and a little cold. As she turned onto her side and pulled the blanket around herself, she felt the slight tug of the band-aid on her left arm, and recalled the events of the previous night. Oskar and Eli had drunk from her, and later had fallen asleep with her. She opened her eyes--where were they now? She was alone on her mattress, but--

. . . she was not alone. What was that sound?

11 AUGUST 1983 – 8:13 p.m. Danderyd

The minister spoke the words to the steady beep of the cardiorespiratory monitor and poured the water onto the infant’s forehead. It trickled down his temple until it was caught on a folded pad of clean, white cloth. “I baptize you in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.”

Oskar watched the balconies of Maria’s apartment from behind a large willow bush with Maria, looking for any sign of Eli. He grew nervous when some lights came on briefly and then went off, but he continued to wait as Eli had directed.

This was inspired by PeteMork's Eli's Curse but it ain't half as good as that masterpiece.

Clint pulled his cell phone from the worn holder on his belt to check the time. 4:06 p.m. Close enough to quitting time for him. Most people in his field worked a 7-3:30 shift but he had a boss that wasn't much of a morning person so they opted for an 8-4:30 shift. Since the boss wasn't around today he could pack it up just a tad early.

Chapter 12

Eli had showered and was drying the bottom of the tub with a towel when he got back to their apartment on Skäftingebacken. He had beaten the sunrise by fifteen minutes.

“I was starting to worry about you,” she said warmly as he stood in the bathroom doorway and began to strip off his sopping-wet clothes. She offered him a towel as he pulled off his shirt, then leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

He deliberately beat her to the punch for the evening’s report. “So, how did things go tonight?”

Spring 1983
Northern Finland

A thin stream of broken clouds stream quickly across an otherwise clear, cold night sky.
The cloudy swath of the Milky Way glows softly among the stars that shine above a remote tundra, veins of shallow water weaving together into the distance toward the shallow mountains at the horizon.
The spring night is chilly with a strong wind whispering through the fresh greenery and wildflowers that have pushed up through the long dead grass of the hillocks.

“Eli, look.” Oskar held open Christensen’s wallet and showed it to Eli. “He was a Canadian from Vancouver, British Columbia. And I think he had a daughter.”

Eli looked at the picture, scuffed and worn from years spent pressed in a wallet, and saw a smiling, brown-haired girl of about fourteen with braces.

Oskar lowered the wallet into his lap and stared at the corpse. “We picked someone’s dad.”