A Graveyard for Lunatics

?Good. When he saw I was dying, really dying in the tomb and that he was dying from the cancer I had given him, and the game wasn?t worth the candle, he had the decency to let me go. The studio he had run, I had run, had come to a dead jolting halt. We both had to set it in motion again. Now, next week, turn all the wheels. Start back on The Dead Ride Fast.?

?No,? I murmured.

?Damn it to hell! With my last breath I?ll come choke the life out of you. It will be done. Say it!?

?It,? I said at last, ?will be done.?

?And now the last thing. What I said before. The offer. It?s yours if you want it. The studio.?

?Don?t??

?There?s no one else! Don?t turn it down so quickly. Most men would die to inherit??

?Die, is right. I?d be dead in a month, a wreck, drinking, and dead.?

?You don?t understand. You?re the only son I have.?

?I?m sorry that?s true. Why me??

?Because you?re a real honest-to-God idiot savant. A real fool, not a fake one. Someone who talks too much but then you look at the words and they?re right. You can?t help yourself. The good things come out of your hand into words.?

?Yes, but I haven?t leaned against the mirror and listened to you for years, like Manny.?

?He talks but his words don?t mean anything.?

?But he?s learned. He must know how to run things by now. Let me work for him!?

?Last chance? Last offer?? His voice was fading.

?And give up my wife and my writing and my life??

?Ah,? whispered the voice. And a final ?Yes?? Adding: ?Now, at last. Bless me, father, for I have truly sinned.?

?I can?t.?

?Yes, you can. And forgive. That?s a priest?s job. Forgive me and bless me. In a moment it?ll be too late. Don?t send me to everlasting hell!?

I shut my eyes and said, ?I bless you.? And then I said, ?I forgive you, though, God, I don?t understand you!?

?Who ever did?? he gasped. ?Not me.? His head slumped against the panel. ?Much thanks.? His eyes closed in outer space where there is no sound. I added my own track. The sound of a mighty gate closing on oblivion, tomb doors banging shut.

?I forgive you!? I shouted at the man?s terrible mask.

?I forgive you?? my voice echoed back from high in the empty church.

The street was empty.

Crumley, I thought, where are you?

I ran.

72

There was a last place I had to go.

I climbed the dark interior of Notre Dame.

I saw the shape fixed out near the top rim of the left tower, with a gargoyle not too far away, its bestial chin resting on its horny paws, gazing out across a Paris that never was.

I edged along, took a deep breath, and called: ?You? ?? and had to stop.

The figure seated there, its face in shadow, did not move.

I took another breath and said, ?Here.?

The figure straightened. The head, the face, came up into the dim glow of the city.

I took a last breath and called quietly, ?Roy??

The Beast looked back at me, a perfect duplicate of the one that had slumped in the confessional a few minutes ago.

The terrible grimace fixed me, the terrible raving eyes froze my blood. The terrible wound of mouth peeled and slithered, insucked and garbled a single word: ?? Yesssssss.?

?It?s all over,? I said, my voice breaking. ?My God, Roy. Come down from here.?

The Beast nodded. Its right hand rose up to tear at the face and peel away the wax, the makeup, the mask of horror and stunned amaze. He worked at his nightmare face with a clawing downpull of fingers and thumb. From beneath the shambles, my old high school chum looked back at me.

?Did I look like him?? asked Roy.

?Oh, God, Roy.? I could hardly see him for the tears in my eyes. ?Yes!?

?Yeah,? muttered Roy. ?I kind of thought so.?