Jackal, page 29
From Diana’s heart, I know the truth of Anubis, not what Jack would make him. The god of lost souls. It was his duty to guide them home. He would measure your heart against a feather. And if your life was found lacking, it would be eaten. Destroyed.
Before I crash into him, I dodge and roll. I extend the blade and it sticks in Jack’s side. He howls in pain. I see the blade has stuck between his ribs. I brace one hand against him and cut. His scream rattles my bones. I hang on to him for dear life as he thrashes. The bone grinds against the blade but, cut by cut, it gives. I stab in again, closer to the center of his chest this time. I remember from the deer, that’s where the joints are easier to dig through. I have to put my whole body into it, but it works. He tries to bite down at me. He’s too weak. I’m close. I cut through another joint and his chest cracks open.
I fit my hand in. The bone slices right into my fingers. Adrenaline wills me on. I break him open. No blood, only rot pours out. I reach into his chest. His insides pulse with life that shouldn’t be. I see his great heart. I wrap my hand around it.
I pull.
JACK
June 2017
Lucy left me longing for the world she fled to. I’d reach out for it at night.
Listening.
Watching.
The tensions in this little town mirrored the whole country’s. A constant tally of who has what and who wants it. Who deserved the fruits of their labor and who had to work twice as hard to get half as far. This cycle of fear fed into itself over and over and over. New workers, strangers. A bar fight. Death. Banishment. Flames in the hills. All erased. All repeated. On and on.
When the Fellow found me, he reminded me of Lucy. He saw me and his eyes filled with curiosity. He didn’t run away. I searched his mind for fear and saw only darkness that I could inhabit. The man was empty. Bottomless. I became what he needed. I took the shape of the dog Lucy made and never changed. It took a lifetime, but Grandma Abigail was right. A fool had finally come along and given me enough attention. I was fool enough to give him purpose.
I’d watched humans. I knew how they desired regularity. Schedules. I’d keep the Fellow and myself on one. Summer was when I met Lucy. The stars were our escape. They became tenets in our new religion. Like any belief of value, my Fellow passed his desires on to his son, Doug.
The Fellow had been told all his life that he would have a good one. He trained for it. Believed it was owed to him.
He lost it.
He wanted to hurt others long before the steel mill closed. When he saw Tanisha’s family coming in to help lay the place to rest, he acted on his pain. He cemented a triangle between him, his son, and myself, with Alice’s blood.
I never make anyone do anything they wouldn’t have otherwise done. I witness. When they ask me if they should listen to their basest desires, I say “yes.” All the Fellow ever needed was a “yes.”
He offered me hearts because I was his. I had a mouth because he needed me to eat. To chew. After that, he didn’t care what I did with the muscle. He wasn’t checking the woods for my waste. His attention gave me strength and solidity. His worship gave me flesh. With the hearts he gifted me, I crafted what I could: Ribs. Fur. Some muscle. I learned more from the Girls’ hearts and shifted my form. I lifted my ears. Shortened my fur. I knew what I wanted to be when I left these trees. I could be only a jackal in the forest. In the world, I would be a god.
The longer the Fellow worshipped me, the more he took my shadow inside. But, no matter how many times I tried to leave while inside him, I got pushed out. I’d take up more space in him and try again. Failure. Again. I tried until I cracked his ribs and inflamed his organs. How would his body last in the world?
I used the hunt we created to seek a new vessel. The hearts he brought me were strong. And the Girls’ bodies were still growing. If I could get into one before she was an adult, I could grow with her. Slowly ensuring there was enough space for me.
Why not his son? Doug?
If his father was any indication, I’d burn through the boy in an afternoon. A man like him with my power would be too destructive. This world would put him down. But someone unlike him? One who was used to keeping everything locked up tight?
Doug is the only reason I found Liz. His insistence on and obsession with her and her mother made me watch her. I did, and I saw.
Liz had the perfect heart.
Its tempo was flawless. The muscle was taut. And its capacity rivaled the cosmos. With this marvel in her chest, I could use Liz if I let her grow. If I kept her safe. Special.
Doug called Keisha a mistake, but she was just as planned as the others. The Fellow and Doug needed their same old ritual. I needed to start one of my own with Liz. Deeper than looking at her or climbing behind her eye, I bound the strongest piece of myself to her. A tooth. We grew together.
When the Fellow died, I took his body. It still couldn’t get me out of the woods, but it gave me weight. I could break branches and echo calls. But it smelled too strong and was too delicate for me to hunt on my own…yet.
The more I learned about Liz, the more I delighted in her return. She had eyes full of starlight and so much space in her. We’d do so much more than walk out of the woods. Every night, I looked up and longed for Liz.
I remember being lost. I remember the stars. I remember searching for substance in them when I was lonely.
Both Liz and I did that.
I think that is why Liz and I were inevitable.
Liz was strong like I knew she’d be. Like a true lover, she knew exactly what to do. She used her strength, her blade, and her teeth. She went for my side first. That wasn’t the fatal blow. That came when her fingers gripped my chest. They cracked open my ribs. Her nails rent my flesh. I was only the shadow of a dog god’s body.
When death comes for Death, it does so in the present tense. Each moment is every moment. Some use this last second to revisit their lives, or just the parts of it that matter.
What will I do?
In this second, I don’t know.
By the next one, I will.
Before it’s over, I feel her hand around my heart. A moment of incredible intimacy. I know I’ll never be held like this again.
The second I see my heart leave my hard-earned body, I’m done.
I’m surprised by my relief.
My emptiness feels vast.
The weight of my matter? I’ll find out. But now
Now
Now?
After a life of shadows, finally, in death, I am seen.
On June 28, 2017, Detective Turner (DT) interviewed Caroline Washington (CW) in the presence of her father, Garrett Washington (GW) at [redacted].
DT: It is presently, 0900 hours on June 28, 2017. Currently at [redacted]. This is in regards to case number 6345-034. Thank you both so much for agreeing to speak so soon after the incident.
CW: Are they…are they…Dad?
GW: She wants to be sure you’ve locked up…um. The people who took her.
DT: Both are currently in custody and no danger to you, I promise.
GW: Good. Go ahead. You can answer the detective’s questions.
CW: …
GW: Caroline?
CW: …
DT: Caroline, do you want to tell me what you’re drawing?
CW: Is it okay if I tell him, Dad?
GW: Of course.
CW: Can I have more paper?
DT: Here you go.
CW: I’m trying to remember something from my dreams.
DT: Do you dream about what happened when you were in the woods?
CW: Sometimes.
DT: Can you tell me about it?
CW: You won’t believe me. Or you’ll treat me like a little kid. I know what I saw.
DT: What did you see?
CW: Someone took me from the wedding, but he didn’t hurt me.
DT: Do you know who that was?
CW: That was Jack. He was bad too, they all were, but he didn’t hurt me. He wanted to.
DT: How do you know that?
CW: He told me. But he wanted to hurt Auntie Liz more.
DT: Did he say why?
CW: He thought she could help him get out.
DT: Of where?
CW: The woods. That’s where he was trapped.
DT: How did you stay alive out there?
CW: Kirsten, the mean lady, she brought me food. And crayons. Doug didn’t want Jack to get Auntie Liz.
DT: Was he protecting her?
CW: No. He didn’t want her and Jack to see each other. He said something very bad would happen.
DT: He was there? (showing her a picture of the suspect) Is this him?
CW: Yes.
DT: Did he touch you—hurt you?
CW: He wanted to. Jack stopped him. Jack protected me.
DT: Can you describe this Jack person to me?
CW: He’s a shadow.
DT: Can you explain that?
CW: (holds her hand out and makes a shadow on the wall)
DT: A shadow?
CW: Yes.
DT: Are you sure?
CW: Yes. He didn’t want to be a shadow anymore.
DT: What did he want to be?
CW: …like us and like him. Something real, but with all of his unreal things.
DT: When it comes to the night in question, how did you get away?
CW: Jack let me go so Auntie Liz could find me.
DT: Then what happened?
CW: I found her and Mom. Mom…Mommy…
DT: You don’t have to answer anything you don’t want to.
CW: …Jack told me lots of stories.
DT: About?
CW: This town. His life. The hearts he’s eaten. Those were the only stories he had to tell. (Caroline draws, dotting her paper.)
DT: What’s the truth?
CW: For a long time, Doug and his dad killed girls like me. Black girls.
DT: Do you remember any of the names Jack told you?
CW: Alice. Alice Walker. Keisha Woodson. Brittany Miller. Kayla Montrose. Diana Leaks. Morgan—can you write them down?
DT: Yeah—yes. (Detective notates.) Go ahead.
CW: Morgan Daniels. Eboni Lewis. Patrice Carter. Tricia Harris. Aisha Smith. Sandra Hill. Calli Jordan. Nia Davis. Yolanda Brown. Lexi Jackson. Rachel Adams. Imani Jones. Jada Mitchell. Alexandra Thomas. Brianna Hall. Gabrielle Allen. Shanice Bell. Makayla Watson. Chantelle Bryant. Zina Wilson. Taylor Hayes. Tiffany Johnson. Krystal Simms. Cassie Clark. Whitney James. Jayla Kelly.
GW: Good job, sweetie.
DT: Th—thank you. For your time.
END OF VIDEO RECORDING
EIGHT
Caroline’s disappearance didn’t bring the media, but Mel’s death did. A sweet white mother murdered trying to save her daughter from a serial killer. Everyone came for Mel.
Standing up at the pulpit at her funeral, I can’t help but remember, “Mel asked me to speak at her wedding.” My chest hurts when I breathe too deeply. Jack healed the worst of it, but cartilage, skin, and bone will take time. “She was joking. Trying to get me to relax and laugh. Melissa Park— Washington, was more like a sister to me than a friend. We fought like sisters. We were there for each other like sisters. She was one of the few people I could trust.”
My words echo in the church, another thing this town has a lot of. Only Mel’s immediate family is allowed. Standing in front of them, I should be terrified, but I’m in too much pain. My body hurts. So does my soul. Getting Caroline out cost us Mel. Life doesn’t add and subtract evenly. It isn’t balanced on scales. I will spend the rest of my life replaying that night, looking for what I could have done differently. The past is so easy to see. I wish I could have that clarity for the future. Whenever I try to unpack my guilt over what happened to Mel, I’m overwhelmed. After everything, I think I only know how to live in the “overwhelming” now.
When the service is over, I go back to Mel’s house. The only reason I’m allowed is because of Caroline. Since the woods, she refuses to leave my side for more than a few minutes at a time.
I pull into the driveway and see black stars. Summer stars have been spray-painted across the front of Mel and Garrett’s blue house. I see Nick doing his best to usher his parents past them. Garrett carries Caroline inside. Once they are all in, Nick and Garrett come back out. I turn off the car and join them.
“Kids,” is all Nick can say. I know better. This is Doug’s doing. Not him personally, but the people who have started to listen to him.
“There’s paint in the garage,” Garrett says as he walks toward it. I follow him. He sorts through various home improvement supplies and abandoned projects looking for paint. I watch him.
“How are you?”
“Here.” He stops. “That’s all Mel wanted for the wedding. It was why it was all so last-minute. She wanted to celebrate what we had right then. That whole day and every day after she kept telling me to be here with her. Not ahead or behind. All I could think about was tomorrow. Now…”
All we have is the present. In grief I exist moment to moment. It doesn’t mean grief doesn’t visit my dreams or wrap around my body in the middle of the day. It does. I keep going because I know that’s what Mel would want. For us to be here. Now.
He finds the paint.
I look at the constellations on the house. Instead of conjuring tales or myths to escape, I tell myself the truth:
I gave as much of my statement as I could to the police. There was only so much I could say before they would throw out everything. I’m glad they didn’t ask me too many details about the massive bruise on my arm and severe cuts to my chest. I don’t think they would have understood that’s where my heart left my body and where a shadow put it back. I still don’t think I fully understand everything that happened.
Garrett and I return with the paint. Nick’s opened a beer. He offers Garrett and me one. Garrett takes his. I don’t.
“No,” I say. “Thank you.” I’ve been numb for enough of my life. Since Jack left me, I’m living my life without being watched. Having a quiet moment alone feels like an act of revolution.
Doug has been talking, of course. I was right to sense ambition in him. He’s ready for the cameras. He baits them every day from prison awaiting trial. Kidnapping. Attempted murder. Assault. Rape of a child in the first degree. Murder of a child in the first degree. The charges and counts rise every day as more families come forward. The same for Kirsten.
The stars are from Doug. He is peddling his ritual of hate to anyone who will listen. Some are. Painted summer constellations are popping up all over town and beyond. Though he was betrayed by him, Doug still worships Jack. This is how he ensures the jackal gets what he wanted. People are taking little pieces of his beliefs into the world. There is no shadow to please, no killing to be done, and no offerings to be made. But people are telling stories, starting legends, and inspiring fear. Doug only knows how to live as Jack’s shadow.
“Auntie Liz?” It’s Caroline. She pokes her head out the door, looking to me and me alone for permission to be outside.
“Come on,” I say. She sits on the lawn with her sketch pad and crayons. She looks at the stars on the house.
“What were the other ones? The winter ones?” she asks.
I’m happy to tell her. “Let’s start with Orion.”
Nick sits on the front porch. He looks naked, having to navigate with his crutches and without his gun in its holster. He left the force. He’s not talking about it yet. I don’t know if he ever will.
I grab some paper and join Caroline. I draw…nothing. Lines. Color. Anything to keep my hands busy.
Caroline pauses in her sketch of the night sky. Nick finishes his beer. I consider my next color. We’ve all come to a pause, listening for predators.
“Auntie Liz?” Caroline whispers to me. “How do you map with the stars?” I recognize the question. It’s from her time with Jack. Both Jack and I used them to plot our ways out of this town when, in actuality, neither of us could ever really leave it behind.
“Start with the North Star. That’s how you build your compass,” I say.
Caroline nods and keeps drawing. We sit together until my picture of random lines and shapes and colors comes together, a messy representation of my mind. There are angry streaks of red. Mournful mounds of blue. Chaotic neon.
Garrett brings a ladder. I exchange my crayon for a paintbrush. Under the watchful eye of Caroline, Garrett, Nick, and I start to paint.
Latoya was right. Seeing the girls struggle to get the bare minimum doesn’t feel like I thought it would. Justice is a tricky thing. I’ve inhabited the scales of it. Those whose cases went cold are now seeing movement again. The ones who were dismissed as runaways are now being properly investigated. Court dates are coming. Witnesses are being scheduled. Little by little, everything is starting to get sealed up. The scars remain. The one on my arm doesn’t hurt anymore. No numbness. No fire. Just skin. I’ve seen Black women become heroes and villains. To live and live well? That’s what I want.
I haven’t seen Chris since that night in the woods. He texts me questions sometimes. What happened? Are you okay? Are you still here? I can’t answer him. I don’t know how long I’m going to stay home, or if I’ll ever go back to the city. If this is the intercostal of America, the ribs, it’s also the fastest way to its heart. If we tear ourselves apart, God help us.
Three coats of paint and the stars are covered up by sky blue. I start to help clean up when Caroline stops me.
