The Power of 3
Chapter One
After sixteen attempts to toss a baseball in a peach basket Derek shoved
the crumpled dollar bills in the pocket of his jeans. Three dollars was the
balance of a twenty his father
slipped to him before heading for the county fair. It did not leave him very
much to have fun.
Shuffling his feet he left the game and headed for the food court. The
scent of cotton candy, corn dogs and fried food permeated the air. Derek rubbed
his nose hoping to alleviate the pang of hunger gnawing deep in his stomach.
He watched as a heavy set man, wearing a food stained t-shirt, in a
concession trailer cover a summer sausage with sour kraut and chili. Handing it
to a waiting teenager the man turned to Derek. Shaking his head no, Derek turned
away from the scene of food and focused on the house of glass behind the
trailer.
Derek watched as a couple mimed their way through a maze of glass covered
with fingerprints. A girl about Derek's age stood by the ticket booth squeezing
an orange backpack. She smiled shyly at Derek and disappeared behind the house
of glass.
Screams and shrieks rose above the clamor of carnival rides. The sound of
the roller coaster cars clacked and clanged on metal tracks. Rock music blared
from speakers above the Himalayan ride as passengers yelled for more. Derek
slowed his pace as he approached the video arcade.
He stepped inside the tent to find that all the games were being used by
every type of person. The pinball machines were taken by players smoking
cigarettes, skee ball alleys were full with hundreds of tickets spewing from the
winnings shoot. Derek knew his mother would not approve of him playing games
where weapons were used to kill the opponent. He could hear her utter a
statement in the back of his mind.
"I'm a God fearing Christian woman and violent games are not the
answer to the problems of today's youth."
Derek's mother, Betty Johansen, would stand her 5 foot 3 inch frame in
the way of the television whenever a commercial or show depicting a violent act.
She was raised and she would teach her son that only men would go to war and
children should be at home minding the chores until they became old enough to
kill.
He fumbled with the thought of just once playing a shoot 'em up video
game but he knew his mom would find out because God would tell her. Then he
would be grounded for at least a week. He brought a comic book home from school
and he had to wash his mouth out with soap. His mother didn't want to wash his
eyes with the lye soap that she made in the kitchen on Saturdays because it
could cause him to go blind.
Derek sauntered away from the arcade tent and headed in the direction of
the rides. He felt that he might find some tickets that were lost by a careless
fair patron.
He rubbed his head, the hair cut short to the scalp, tingled under his
fingers. Derek stood just under 5 feet tall. His father said that he was going
to be a big man like his grandfather which stood over 6 feet tall. Derek didn't
want to get any taller. It would mean that he was becoming a man and at this
point in his life he worked harder than any man in town.
Every morning he was up before the sun rose over the barn. Derek would be
in the barn sitting on the stool milking Bessie. He knew that eventually he
would not have to milk this cow. It would be another cow he would have to milk.
Then Derek would be in the chicken coop collecting the eggs that were laid
during the night. By this time the sun was just rising over the horizon and it
would be time to take the scraps from the previous days meals and feed it to the
hogs. At twelve years old, Derek did everything on the farm except plowing the
fields with the John Deere tractor.
The rest of the day he would spend in the county school. He would day
dream of going to college so he could learn to be important. Derek didn't care
if he was a doctor or a professor. Something important. He wanted to have people
do things for him. He felt older than his age.
"Come one. Come all to see the amazing Madame Celeste. Hear about
your past and learn the future. How about you young man. Let Madame Celeste tell
you of things to come."
Derek's attention was diverted from his self pity party to the barker. He
stood behind a podium waving a cane above his head. The barkers hair was long
and fluttered each time he moved his head.
The barkers coarse voice echoed through Derek's head. He stared at the
banner which showed a man with a concave stomach, another picture showed a large
woman standing next to a man that barely reached her knee. The next picture
showed a woman hovering over a
crystal ball. A bright blue light pulsed from the ball, the background full of
stars.
Derek turned to the barker as he started his spiel again. The words were
the same, the tone of his voice the same. The barkers hair moved in the same
manner. Derek's attention was so concentrated like he was a moth driven to the
light on the back porch at his house.
"How much for my fortune?" Derek said before he realized that
he had spoken any words.
"What cha' got kid?" The barker leaned around the podium and
whispered as if anyone in the vicinity would hear.
"One dollar." Derek lied.
"That is the price of your fortune kid. One dollar to know the
future from Madame Celeste." The barker put more emotion toward on the
name. "O.K. kid your name is....?"
"Derek Johansen!" he blurted. Derek felt a strange feeling come
over him. It reminded Derek of the time his mother found out that him and some
of his schoolmates found a cigarette and decided to smoke it. Derek knew he was
in trouble because the hair on the nape of his neck stood on end.
"Well kid, Derek Johansen, gimme the dollar and you can go in the
tent on the end and get the future." The barker winked at Derek.
He walked to the tent on the end. Derek could smell some type of perfume,
not the kind that smelled of violets that his mother wore or even the after
shave that his father wore. It was the smell of burned leaves mixed with sweet
chocolate.
Derek entered the tent and stood at the door to let his eyes adjust to
the dim lighting.
"Please. Sit down Derek Johansen." The voice cooed from
somewhere in the back of the tent.
Derek swallowed hard. He guided himself to the light from a candle on the
table. He bumped into the chair before him. He slid in the seat hitting his knee
on the leg of the table.
His focused on the candlelight reflecting on the crystal ball. He could
see an upside down version of Madame Celeste sitting across from him. Her face
obscured by a rose covered veil that flowed over her shoulders. She spoke
softly, pausing on her every word.
"Derek, please lay your hands on the table."
Madame Celeste placed her hands on top of his upturned hands. They felt
cool and light as a soft autumn breeze blowing through the fields of corn at his
parents farm. She caressed his long fingers with a light stroke.
"Derek, you wish to know more of your life." She paused
breathing deeply. "Be not afraid for I speak only the truth."
He cleared his throat. Shifting his weight in the folding chair he pulled
his hands away from her touch. Madame Celeste increased the pressure against
him.
"Be not afraid for the night is upon you. The light in your eyes has
and shall guide you." She stopped speaking. "You come from a strong
family. Your mother is devoted to her God. She teaches you to be faithful and
believe in yourself. Your father is a
strong man that procreates with his hands. He gives you strength and a purpose
in life." She paused.
Derek's body expanded. His mind became enlarged and his concentration on
the spoken words intensified.
"Ask and you shall be given the path you are to follow."
"What will I be when I am a grown up?" Derek asked.
The air in the tent stilled. Sounds of the midway faded in the darkness
of the tent. The aroma of roses permeated the air. The earth beneath Derek's
feet seemed miles away. The crystal ball grew in brightness. Steams of light
projected from the center reaching all corners of the tent. Derek felt uneasy.
"Your journey begins tonight in search of the lost ones. Derek, you
will find the spirit with the key." Madame Celeste's breath was released
with a mist. "You will be assisted by a fair maiden and a man of power.
They will guide you on your trek offering assistance in the fight against the
man who watches." Her voice
just a sigh above a whisper. "You shall search for the lost ones. They are
yearning for the life that was taken by the man that watches. He is a strong
force of iniquity. He is among the living that takes life from the weak and
devastated."
The movement of air began to increase in the tent. The candlelight
flickered from light to dark. Sounds of the midway filter through the canvas and
reached Derek. The temperature of the room rose with each breath Derek inhaled.
He could taste the dust as it swirled and twirled within the small confines of
the tent.
"Depart on your quest. Begin your travel. Allow the light in your
eyes be your guide. Go forth and achieve your blessing of assistance from your
guides. They will give you the answer you seek." Madame Celeste closed her
eyes and dropped her chin to her chest.
The flame of the candle erupted into a fireball reaching the canvas
ceiling of the tent. Small flares exploded beneath the table. Smoke billowed
from the sawdust flooring around Derek's feet.
The crystal ball vibrated with a force that shook the table. The ground
beneath Derek's feet rumbled. Madame Celeste released his hands. He fell to the
floor covered in sawdust. He inhaled the smoke covered dust causing his lungs to
protest.
Derek awaked from his stupor to see Madame Celeste skim across the floor
to the back of the tent and then she vanished in a shimmer of bright light.
He stared at the spot where she disappeared not believing what he
witnessed. Derek looked around the tent watching the flames engulfing everything
in sight. Smoke thickened with each second. He ground his hands in the sawdust
and crawled for the entrance. His squinted with the sting of smoke in his eyes.
As he reached the flap in the tent that was his escape route he was stopped by a
mountain of flesh.
A woman, the size of a Tampa Bay Buccaneer linebacker, stood her ground
blocking his way out. She looked down at Derek with eyes outlined in bright blue
eye shadow. The floral print dress hung loosely over her mammoth frame.
"What have you done to my tent you little heathen?" The pyramid
of a women shrieked.
"I didn't do nothing!" Derek exclaimed.
"Hank, get the fire hose and start putting this out while I deal
with this delinquent." The woman pulled Derek by the nape of his neck into
the fading sunlight.
He wriggled under the grip of the fat woman holding his prisoner. Her
fingers dug deep into the flesh of his neck that he could feel the blood supply
being cut off to his brain. Derek's eyes began to flutter with the lack of blood
and oxygen. He looked at the poster above his head to the picture of the
psychic.
The picture was no longer the same. The woman behind the crystal ball was
now replaced with the woman retaining him. She sat behind a table with planets
circling her massive head. No veil covered her thinning reddish hair.
The same dress that stood before him was the same one in the poster. The
name listed under the picture was Madame Maggie. Derek stared in disbelief. He
could not understand what was happening at this point in his life.
This large woman named Madame Maggie, loosened her grip on his neck as
she was looking for a place to store him for safe keeping and strict punishment.
He wormed himself loose of her immense grip. Their eyes connected. Derek saw
fear in her deep brown irises. He turned from her frightful stare and headed for
the midway.
He lost himself in the throngs of people heading for the burning tent.
Over the dim of noise he could hear Madame Maggie's shrill voice yelling for
someone to stop him. He bolted between
the Zipper and the Himalayan rides. Crouching below the exit platform he saw the barker and Madame Maggie run by the front
of the ride. He stayed in this position for the footsteps to die down. In the
distance he could hear the volunteer fire department siren shrieking across the
sky.
Derek felt movement behind him. Turning to the right he saw something
that startled him. It was the adrenaline coursing through his body that made him
jump to his feet. Derek's head hit the metal frame work of the ride causing him
to slip into unconsciousness.
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