A Graveyard for Lunatics

told Clarence to wait outside the Brown Derby so he could see you? Who inspired Roy Holdstrom to make the bust of the possible monster for an impossible film? Who gave J. C. overdoses of whiskey hoping he would run wild and tell everything? Who??

With each question, the huge mass beyond the thin panel moved, trembled, took in great soughs of air, sighed it out, as if each breath was a hope for survival, each exhalation an admission of despair.

There was a silence and then he said: ?When it all began, with the body on the wall, I suspected everyone. It got worse. I ran mad. Doc, I thought, no. A coward, and too obvious. He had, after all, found and told me my illness. J. C.? Worse than a coward, hiding in a bottle every night. Not J. C.?

?Where?s J. C. tonight??

?Buried somewhere. I would have buried him myself. I set out to bury everyone, one by one, get rid of anyone who tried to hurt me. I would have smothered J. C. as I did Clarence. Killed him as I would have killed Roy, who, I thought, killed himself. Roy was alive. He killed and buried J. C.?

?No!? I cried.

?There are lots of tombs. Roy hid him somewhere. Poor sad Jesus.?

?Not Roy!?

?Why not? We?d all kill if we had the chance. Murder is all we dream, but never do. It?s late, let me finish. Doc, J. C., Manny, I thought, which would try to hit me and run? Manny Leiber? No. A phonograph record I could play any time and hear the same tune. Well then, at last?Groc! He hired Roy, but I thought to bring you in for the grand search. How was I to know the final search was for me!? That I would wind up in clay! I went, oh, quite insane. But now?it?s over.

?Running, shouting, mad, I suddenly thought: too much. Tired, so damned tired from too many years, too much blood, too much death, and all of it gone and cancer now. And then I met the other Beast in the tunnel near the tombs.?

?The other Beast??

?Yes,? he sighed, his head touching the side of the confessional. ?Go get him. You didn?t think there was just me, did you??

?Another???

?Your friend. The one whose bust I destroyed when I saw that he had caught my face, yes. The one whose cities I trampled underfoot. The one whose dinosaurs I degutted? He?s running the studio!?

?That? that?s not possible!?

?Idiot! Fooled us. Fooled you. When he saw what I had done to his beasts, his cities, the clay bust, he went mad. Made himself up as the walking horror. The terrible mask??

?Mask?? My mouth jerked.

I had guessed but refused the guess. I saw the film face of the Beast on Crumley?s wall. Not a clay bust animated, frame by frame, but?Roy, made up to resemble destruction?s father, chaos?s child, annihilation?s true son.

Roy on film, acting out the Beast.

?Your friend,? gasped the man behind the grille, over and over again. ?God, what an act. The voice: mine. Spoke through the wall behind Manny?s desk and??

?Got me rehired,? I heard myself say. ?Got himself rehired!??

?Yes! How rich! Give him the Oscar!?

My hand raked the grille.

?How did he??

?Take over? Where was the seam, the crease, the boundary? Met him under the wall, between the vaults face to face! Oh, damn that bright son of a bitch. I hadn?t seen a mirror in years. Then, there I was, standing in my own path! Grinning! I struck to smash that mirror! I thought: illusion. A ghost of light in a glass. I yelled and hit, off balance. The mirror lifted its fist and struck. I woke in the tombs raving, behind bars, put in some crypt and him there, watching. ?Who are you?!? I shouted. But I knew. Sweet vengeance! I had killed his creatures, smashed his cities, tried to smash him. Now, sweet triumph! He ran yelling back at me: ?Listen. I?m off to rehire myself! And, yes! give myself a raise!? He came twice a day with chocolate to feed a dying man. Until he saw I was truly dying and the fun was lost for him as well as me. Maybe he found that power doesn?t stay power, stay great and good and fun. Maybe it scared, maybe it bored him. A few hours ago, he unlocked my bars and led me up for that call to you. He left me to wait for you. He didn?t have to tell me what to do. He just pointed down the tunnel toward the church. Confession time, he said. Brilliant. Now he?s waiting for you in a final place.?

?Where??

?Damn it to hell! Where?s the one and only place for such as me, and such as he has become??

?Ah, yes,? I nodded, my eyes watering. ?I?ve been there.?

The Beast slumped in the confessional.

?That?s it,? he sighed. ?This last week I hurt many people. I killed some, and your friend the rest. Ask him. He went as mad as I. When this is over, when the police ask, put all the blame on me. No need for two Beasts when one should do. Yes??

I was silent.

?Speak up!?

?Yes.?