Chương 61: Arc II, Chapter 52: The Séance Part Two

"We're not here to trap you," Kimberly said.

"Honest. We know something strange is happening here, and we think that you do too." Geist's face didn't budge.

"Strange?" he said.

"This isn't strange. I suspect that things have always been this way. The only people who know for sure are conspirators. Are you with them?" he paused only for a moment.

"Don't answer. Don't tell me you're on my side. I'll forego that reassurance if it spares me another round of lies. Do you want to know what is strange about Carousel and my family? I'll never stop telling that story as long as I live. To silence me, they'll have to kill me." He scratched his forehead, right next to the gash where Lillian Geist had beat his brains in.

"Now, get on with your questions. Before you ask, I will not be going with you to the supposed Centennial," he said. Kimberly took a breath.

"You think we're here to bring you to the Centennial?" He sat down on the broken bed in the room and leaned against the headboard for support.

"I am not a fool. I read in the paper that the Centennial has returned. I knew it would only be a matter of time before you all tried to pry me down the hill. You are nothing if not predictable."

"No, we're not—" Kimberly started to say, but Antoine put his hand on her shoulder.

"You said 'supposed' Centennial," Antoine said softly.

"Is this not the real Centennial?" Jedediah began to laugh heartily.

"My father was successful as long as I knew him and for many years before I was born, but I doubt even he could have founded the town before he even knew his letters. They reported it would be the Centennial three years ago, too. I guess they didn't expect me to lock myself in my house the whole week through. Thought they would try that trap again." He let loose another round of laughs.

"They could never pull this sort of nonsense when my family was alive. My relatives were a bit slow on the uptake, but even they knew basic math. A Centennial in 1989, and again in 1992. They must think they are hilarious. No, no, they throw their Centennial Celebrations to twist the knife. They know I am their prisoner, and now they flaunt it." He was aware that the Centennial date was off in some manner. It didn't sound like he knew about the continuity loop, but he did know they had thrown it before.

I had the strongest urge to ask who he meant when he said, "They," but I didn't want to derail the conversation just yet. I would save that question.

"You say your family wasn't aware of the strange nature of Carousel?" I asked. Jedediah thought for a moment.

"What they knew and what they chose to believe, I couldn't say. You spend your life having the red carpet rolled out for you; you might be afraid to stray from it, too. Even if the carpet leads somewhere horrifying, you push the thought away. You want to believe that you are just that capable, that well-loved, that beautiful, that lucky. You'll walk the red carpet until it leads you off a cliff. I don't blame them.

As much as I tried to convince them that there was something wrong, that we were playthings to some conspiratorial oppressor, to Dyrkon, I never did have proof. We Geists were larger than life but not larger than death." Jedediah was aware. Lillian was aware that something was wrong, but she coped by going along with it and playing her role as the beauty queen that the town of Carousel had laid out for her. It sounded like Jedediah took a different route.

"Let's start from the beginning," Antoine said.

"Can you tell us about growing up as a Geist?" Jedediah chuckled.

"I had an ordinary childhood," he said.

"I know that is hard to believe, but it's true. My family was successful, and no one had breathed a word of any Geist Curse until I was already grown. We summered in the Carousel Hills on Lake Crescent. We took ski trips to Snowblind in the winter. My father worked incessantly, but I thought all fathers did that, so I was content. My mother was my best friend back then. She was quite pleased with that. Carlyle and Steven wanted to grow up so fast, but I agreed to be her little boy.

She was the one who taught me to ride my bicycle and how to dress my scraped elbows. My brothers were older than me by a decade. They wanted little to do with me at that age, so I was socialized with the help's children. Nothing untoward happened until… until I was twelve." As he spoke, images appeared on the red wallpaper. Flashbacks. I saw him dressed up all proper, chasing frogs by a pond next to one of the Geist Mansions, though it was too small to be the one that burned down.

I saw him watching his brothers talk to girls through an ornate glass window. At the end, I saw him sneaking through a hallway in darkness. He paused. I wanted him to continue, but before I could ask him to, Kimberly spoke. Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

"Your mother," she said.

"She passed, right?" Jedediah nodded.

"When I was fifteen. I was alone in the world after that." She looked at us suspiciously, and it was only then that I realized what was odd. As he spoke, there was no flashback footage of his mother—none whatsoever. Without prompting, Jed continued.

"It was hard enough after I was twelve, but without her, I was alone with my secret and no one to talk to. I chose to believe it was all a dream," he said.

"What was all a dream?" I asked. The flashback returned to the dark hallway, to young Jedediah Geist walking slowly toward the sound of whispers.

"The meeting," he said.

"It was the first time I ever saw Silas Dyrkon in the flesh. I had seen posters with his name and those mechanical contraptions on street corners before for tourists. I knew of the man, and I had heard the stories, so when I saw him, I recognized him. He was striking, intimidating." Jedediah continued talking, but the flashback immediately took me aback. It was Silas Dyrkon. Actually seeing him was a shock. He was a tall man who could have been a celebrity by his looks and poise. Not the image I had of a banker.

He had dark hair and piercing eyes. The mannequin in the Silas the Showman boxes was clearly modeled after him, but they did not do the man justice. He glanced down the dark hallway in the direction of Jedediah, but he said nothing. Wasn't looking at Jedediah. He was staring right at me. That meant he was looking right into the camera. He smiled a devilish smile and then returned his attention to the man I knew to be Bartholomew Geist. My heart nearly jumped from my chest. He had looked at the camera.

I could barely contain my shock. I heard a rustle in the hall where Isaac or Cassie had jumped back in surprise at the revelation. Jedediah continued.

"I had never seen my father like this," he said.

"He was soft-spoken and respectful. He had never been those things before." In my mind I saw it. Bartholomew Geist presented an impressive figure, but at this moment, he was clearly not in charge.

"I don't have the money to continue expansion," Bartholomew said, "I don't mean to doubt you. I only meant that these new plans, another hospital, more neighborhoods. We can't even fill the homes we have. The city is hardly producing taxes. I can't bear this burden myself." Bartholomew Geist didn't make eye contact with Dyrkon.

"I thought this is what you wanted," Silas said.

"You want to be the owner of your own tourist destination. You want control. You wanted to run the show."

"Yes, but—""You can take on more partners. That worked in the past, remember? I know of a man who could bring in an impressive hospital, not like the shoddy deathtrap you built for me. He could bring in a state-of-the-art sewer system along with it. No need to worry about bad workmanship. Let me take care of it."

"I didn't know what kind of…wear would be put upon the structures when you instructed me to build it. It was always a temporary facility, after all. We can build a new one in a few years once we can get proper taxes from the townsfolk. We need people to move to Carousel, that's all. Taxes are the answer." Dyrkon moved closer to Bartholomew and whispered.

"I cannot bring in more residents without the facilities you promised. I asked for sets. I asked for locations. You chose to be cheap. I have stories to tell. I would hate for you to go back on your part of the bargain. Our contract was unambiguous." Bartholomew sighed, beaten.

"What kind of partner? The… partners you have suggested in the past have been…"

"I assure you," Dyrkon said.

"The man I have in mind is nothing if not a professional. He even cleans up his messes. All he needs is a home in the Carousel Hills and a lot for his hospital to be… constructed on."

"I assume…. I hope my family will be exempt from whatever eccentricities he brings?" Dyrkon laughed.

"I'll tell you what. I give you my personal guarantee that Dr. Halle will use his skills in support of the health of you and yours."

"Dr. Halle…" Bartholomew said.

"If he will never touch my kin with murderous intent or effect, then I agree." Silas and Bartholomew shook hands. Jedediah had been talking this whole time, but I was devoting all of my attention to the flashback.

"That's when the man appeared. I thought he was an ordinary man. Perhaps he had been hiding in the corner, but I had not yet realized what I had seen." In the flashback, I saw Dr. Howard Halle step nervously into view from the direction of the fireplace. He observed his surroundings cautiously. Silas introduced the two men. They shook hands. Bartholomew looked defeated.

"Onto another matter," Silas said.

"You asked about bringing in new citizens. Let's start with these." He handed Bartholomew a folder like the kind a lawyer might use. Bartholomew looked at it intensely, leafing through it.

"Spouses?" he asked.

"My children are far too young for this. I… thank you for your consideration, but this is too much. Thank you."

"You asked for abundance for your line. This is what I have provided: perfect additions to the Geist family tree, perfect families to populate Carousel. It's been done. I assure you that these matches are superb. I guarantee that given a free choice, these are the matches your sons would choose for themselves." Bartholomew read the page aloud.

"Carlyle… Steven… Jedediah. Jedediah is too young even to think about girls. Is he supposed to wed this Harriet girl at his age? I really must obje-… This really is too much."

"You don't object," Silas said, putting his hand on Bartholomew's shoulder.

"I assure you, you do not object. You asked for this. I've brought it to you. Be grateful, as your sons will be. Besides, look at their families. All competent, industrious lines. Well-bred, as you would say. As good as if you had picked them yourself." Bartholomew didn't answer for a time, but then he said softly, "Thank you." Young Jedediah had a curious look on his face as if he didn't quite understand what he had just seen. He scampered back down the hall in the shadows.

"My father had just gotten home from a long trip. I thought if I caught him before he went to sleep," Jedediah Geist said, "Maybe he would have a treat for me before my brothers showed up to take it. I didn't understand what I had heard. I forgot it. I simply told myself it was all a dream. It had to be. It had to be a dream… until I met her: Harriet, the girl of my dreams. Long auburn hair, a smile so beautiful, so discreet, you thought she was sharing it only with you. Harriet, the love of my life.

Harriet, the woman they sent just for me."