Author's Note: Intense writer's block plus evil computer problems equals way too long since my last update. Sorry about that but, on the positive side, this chapter brings back our two favorite characters. It's a bit of a weird chapter but it's important (not like I'm ever going to admit to a chapter that's not important, eh? Ha.) Enjoy.
And, of course, Happy Mother's Day to anyone who celebrates – and to all your Mommy's, too. Yay.
Disclaimer: I do not own, nor stake any claim, to any of the original newsboy characters – they are the property of Disney. The main characters Stress and Diana (among others) belong to me. Any other character, when noted, is property of their respective owner.
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a Maldição de Diabo
May 13, 2007
A devil's curse. An unsolved murder. 4 generations.
At the brink of his own destruction, he traded his life for 100 years to find out what exactly happened that night.
If that wasn't strange enough, what exactly he will find out during his quest is.
--
PART FIFTY TWO
--
With a rush of air, he landed, settling right in the center of his small nook. He just missed landing on Four's long, thin tail; the cat, sensing his highly incensed supernatural power, hid under the bed as Jack was arriving. The tornado he had created in Diana's room had yet to slow entirely but, once he was away from the girl, his anger had started to fade. A mixture ofn regret and frustration replaced it as he let out a huge rush of air.
It was a struggle to regain his breath as a wave of fatigue washed over the ghost boy; as soon as he was still, hunched over, his hands on his knees, Jack realized that he was panting. The energy he exerted when leaving Diana behind had cost him. He felt faint but did not have the strength to do anything but mutter to himself. Which he did, in a tone that was similar to the one he used when confronting Diana over the simple silver chain.
"I can't believe that girl. All I ever wanted was for her to help me like the other Daite's did. But no… she has to make everything so damn difficult. And where the hell did she get that necklace from? It was… it was gone, I thought." He was dizzy and realized that it was because he was vehemently shaking his head in rhythm to his heated mumblings. He stopped. "What is wrong with her?" Or me… Fuck.
"Meow?"
Sliding his eyes over to the side, he could barely make out Four's bushy brown head, peeking out curiously from under the cot. He sighed and managed a weak grin. "Hey, girl," he said, sounding more tired than angry now. Just because he was frustrated at Diana, it did not mean that he had to take it out on his cat. "I'm home."
Four scrambled out, approaching the ghost boy cautiously. He could see, from his position, that her hair was on end. She, obviously, was not comfortable with the black magic that surrounded him and he felt guilty. He took another deep breath, in a futile attempt at calming himself down, as the cat sidled close to him, wrapping her small and limber body around his ankles.
With a faint groan, Jack lowered his torso, letting his hand reach for Four's back. It was a soothing sensation, stroking her fur and, though he continued to pant and feel weak, he did relax. "Thanks, Four."
"Meow."
"Yeah. I know I don't look too good. I feel horrible and, I mean, I know that I shouldn't have gotten so angry but I couldn't help it… It gets hard sometimes, girl. You know that."
"Meow."
Jack nodded his head slowly, straightening up. "Exactly." He let his fingers brush against the top of her head one more time before stepping over her and walking towards his bed. He was still winded and, as the image of Diana standing there, wearing that necklace and acting so… innocent… flashed before his eyes, he felt the lingering effects of rash anger – and it disturbed him. He rarely let such anger take control of him and he was paying for it now. And there was only one thing he could do for it just then: have a good, long rest. Maybe then, when he had replenished his energy stores, he would be ready to accept the fourth generation girl's aid.
Besides, there's still one month left until Delancey comes back looking for me, Jack mused as he gingerly took a seat on the old patchwork quilt. He was too tired to go intangible or use any of his powers so, rather than float, he took his time in stretching himself out across the flat mattress, closing his eyes as he made himself comfortable. It was much rougher than he remembered but the sense did not bother him. He had too much on his mind already.
One month…
With all that had happened over the course of the last few days, Jack had forgotten all about the Devil's latest offer. At first, he had been against it entirely – he would not sell out one girl for the sake of another when he would be lost in the shuffle. Then, after thinking it over, he had reconsidered slightly. Thinking that it might be the best move to accept the latest deal in an attempt to at least free her soul, he had at least given some thought to accepting the offer.
But now, as he sat on the bed, his mind remembering the way that Diana had stared at him, looking so damn familiar… he knew he could never do it, he could never willingly give up a life that he had no claim to. As crooked as he could be, he was no murderer – despite everyone's all-too-often claims that he had anything to do with her murder.
First Les, then Diana… I know that it's my fault that she died but… I didn't do it. Why can't they believe me? I gave up my dreams and my life for that girl. I would never hurt her…
His thoughts were interrupted when Four, placing two paws on the edge of the cot, popped up beside him. "Meow…"
Jack opened his right eye warily. "What?" He did not appreciate being drawn out of his moping. It had been two whole days since the last time he allowed himself to feel so much pity and he felt he was overdue.
"Meow." There was a definitive sound to her high-pitched mewing. And, if he had been paying more attention to the cat than to the ceiling, he would have noticed that she was staring intently at his profile. But he was not and he missed the way that the animal shook her head at him.
But he did, as strange as it was, understand what Four was saying to him. He huffed and closed his eye. "Don't worry. I'm not giving up. And I'm not about to… how does that go? Cut off my nose to spite my face? I'm gonna go see Diana tomorrow… and, when she apologizes, then I'll get back to work. Alright?"
"Meow."
"Yeah, well, good night to you, too."
--
Jack's rest did not last as long as he would have liked it to. It seemed as if only mere minutes had passed before a loud, insistent voice broke up his repose.
"Jack! You listen to me, you stupid ghost."
Reluctantly, his brown eyes opened and he yawned. If there were any doubts in his mind as to who was calling out his name – as if there were that many people who knew that a ghost resided in a hidden lair beside a Commerce bank – the voice was immediately recognized: Diana Mason. He groaned. "What is she doing here?"
"We need to talk and I'm not about to holler through a brick wall." Despite her words, if Jack could make out what she was saying to him, she definitely was hollering through the wall. He shook his head as Diana added, "Do you hear me?"
"Nope," Jack replied, keeping his voice low. He did not want to risk her hearing him; he was enjoying the peace and quiet and was hoping that she would just go away.
"Ja—ack…"
He was tempted to lift his hands to his head and cover his ears, figuring that, if he did not hear her, then he did not have to answer her. Just the sound of her voice was enough to remind him why he was so very angry. Diana was his last tie to this realm, the last chance he had to defeat this Devil's curse for once and for all yet the girl did not truly understand the importance of her role. And that, more than anything – except for the continual reminders her very appearance caused him – was what kept him lying on his bed rather than going back and rejoining the girl.
She stopped her calls for a few seconds and Jack felt relieved. He was not ready to talk to her again. Not yet, at least. Even though he could feel the beginnings of a nagging guilt growing in the pit of his stomach, he chose not to reply to Diana's yells. His pride was getting in the way of his sense of morality.
But, of course, he knew that he had not gotten rid of her just yet. She had, after all, left Duane Street and found her way to his hideaway. From what he knew about her, Diana Mason was not the sort of person to give up so easily so, when she started to threaten him from the other side of the brick wall again, he was not all that surprised.
"Jack, I'm gonna give you to the count of three to come out or I'll… I'll…" Diana was still attempting to speak to him and, as he listened to her vague threats, he could just see the way she was glaring at him through the very thick brick wall. With that thought in mind, he was finally able to separate the fourth generation girl from both Rhiannon and her – and he felt slightly foolish for his earlier tantrum. Of course, he did not accept any fault for that; he was still too tired to even think about the way he had handled himself back at the building.
"I'll do something you won't like. You hear that?"
If only I didn't… The kid's got moxie, I'll give her that.
As he listened to Diana finish her statement, he had the sense that, no matter how long he pretended that he could not hear her, Diana would continue to nag him until he spoke with her again. And, as his anger continued to subside, only to be replaced by some semblance of common sense, Jack knew that he would have to talk to Diana again – as he reminded himself, there was only really one month left before he had to go up against Oscar Delancey and his Master. He really could not afford to let his pride get in the way…
"Alright, alright… don't get your knickers in a twist," Jack huffed, muttering under his breath; while no longer panting – the little bit of rest he had had definitely helped – he was still very tired. And, to be honest, he was not too sure what such a line meant – he did not think that anyone wore knickers in these days but he Ariadne had said that to him once and he liked it – but he figured it worked, given the situation. He just knew that Diana would not leave him alone until after she had had her say. She was all riled up now and he had the feeling that he would never regain all the energy his tantrum had spent with her yelling at him through the wall. In fact, he was only partly surprised that her voice could carry through the Devil-made barrier; he had given up trying to figure out just how Diana figured into his curse days ago. It was only a short jump from wondering how Diana was involved to worrying what the Devil wanted with the girl.
And, besides, Jack knew he was going to face her again. He just wanted to make her wait a bit longer first.
Sighing to himself, he sat up and cast his eyes over the space of his hideaway. He did not see Four and assumed that either the cat had been frightened by the intrusion of Diana's yells or – more likely -- was taking her own nap underneath the cot. He shrugged, knowing that at least he would not step on the cat, and stood from the bed. He crossed the room in three strides, curious as to what Diana was doing so far from Duane Street.
With his ear pressed up against the inside brick wall, Jack listened to what Diana was ranting and raving about. Her voice had definitely lowered and there was a bit of a strain on his part. Shrugging, he assumed that the girl was still telling him to face her.
In a way, he was pretty impressed with her ingenuity. Once again he was struck with how different she was from the other Daite girls. Whenever he would huff off, so frustrated that he retreated back to his hideaway, the other girls had always let him be; they had been glad for a reprieve. Diana, though… this girl had followed him. That, if anything, was worth him calming down and inviting her back inside his space.
Removing his head from alongside the wall, he ran a callused hand over the smooth brick, stopping only when he had the sense that he knew exactly where Diana was standing on the other side. Using that ghostly perception, he pushed his hand through the wall. Jack chose not to waste his limited energy by exiting the nook entirely or going invisible; instead, he reached through the brick, stopping when his elbow had been swallowed up by the wall.
Jack did not wonder how it would appear to anyone who happened to see his hand passing through the brick. He knew that only Diana would be able to see him and, by now, she had to be used to such strange sights. And, even if she was not, he did not think that he cared all that much. He was still angry at her for the way she had teased him back at the building.
Making his hand tangible, he felt around for Diana's arm. He found it and quickly closed his long fingers around her flesh. There was a rush of faint power – it exerted more energy than he remembered from the last time he brought Diana into his hideaway but that could have been due to his weakened state – as the magic spread from him to her. As soon as he was sure that the spell had worked, he pulled.
He promptly released his hold of her arm once the magic had carried the girl through the hidden barrier. Turning his back on her while barely hiding a slight pout – he did not like it when anyone got the better of him – Jack said, "There. You happy now?"
"Hold up. What the fuck just happened?"
That was definitely not the answer he had been expecting and he stiffened, keeping his back to the wall. He had expected the girl to huff, to offer some sort of sarcastic retort… even a growl would have met his expectations. But such a profanity-laced statement? That was not the Diana Mason he had come to know.
Plus, the fact that the harsh voice belonged to a guy kind of threw him off, too.
What the…?
--
Diana heard the sound of a car pulling away from the curb and let out a small sigh of relief. She had been right in front of the Commerce entrance, hand extended, reaching for the door, when she heard the telltale noise of Patrick's cab rattling away. Without even looking behind her, she lowered her hand and turned to her left, followed by a quick right down the side street. Like she remembered Jack having done, that first time when he led her to the brick wall, off the left side of this bank, she glanced both ways. When she was sure that no one was watching her, she turned around, facing the brick.
"Jack," she hissed, aware that she was attempting to talk to a ghost who was, she hoped, hiding out in a space that really did not exist. If she had been thinking rationally – which she was not; the way Diana saw it, all rational thoughts had fled her head the moment she agreed to help Jack with his quest – she would have realized how useless this was. Instead, she rapped her knuckles against the coarse brick. "You listen to me, you stupid ghost. We need to talk and I'm not about to holler through a brick wall." She paused. "Do you hear me?"
Not surprisingly, there was no response. She sighed. "Ja—ack," she said, anger causing her voice to rise, though she struggled to hold onto her whisper. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that a blonde woman pushing a stroller had just emerged from around the corner. Quickly switching her pose from one of annoyance to one of mild indifference, placing her back against the brick rather than facing it, she smiled at the young mother. "Hi." She was tempted to whistle innocently but did not; she was sure that there was nothing that she could do that would make this scene less suspicious.
She was right. The woman's brown eyes widened but she did smile over at Diana. However, she did also push the stroller much quicker than she had been before she encountered the teenager. The toddle resting in the stroller waved cheekily, calling out a cheerful greeting as they passed but the mother just hushed her as she hurried along.
Diana kept the forced smile on her face until the woman had turned the next corner, leaving her alone on the side street. The smile then slid off of her face as she swiveled around, scowling at the very solid wall. She felt like a complete idiot and was ready to add that, too, to the ever growing list of things she was holding the ghost boy accountable for. "Jack, I'm gonna give you to the count of three to come out or I'll… I'll…" Not really having anything she could threaten the boy with, she finished her sentence lamely, "I'll do something you won't like. You hear that?"
Again, there was no response. She did not really know what she was expecting to happen but just the fact that – if Jack was really in there, which she assumed but did not know for sure – he was ignoring her was making her furious. She quelled the urge to beat up against the brick wall, instead curling her fists at her side. She was going to get him whenever she had the chance.
"Hey, Diana? You okay?"
So preoccupied with yelling for Jack, and planning revenge for his juvenile behavior, the girl did not notice that another person had joined her on that side street. But this time is was not a nervous young mother with her child who hurried along on their way. It was someone who felt the need to sneak up right alongside her and, in a most unsettling way, place their hand on her shoulder.
She jumped, relaxing her hands, as her stomach seemed to plummeted down into her sneakers and her heart began to beat double time. There was no doubt about it. She knew that voice – and it did not belong to Jack. And, of course, Jack's cold touch was nowhere as warm as this boy's…
Slowly, she turned around, that same forced smile back on her face. Diana swallowed hurriedly as she felt her cheeks heat up again. There, standing right behind her with one heck of a confused expression on his handsome face, was Patrick Conlon.
Oh, damn…
--
Patrick was waiting, making sure that the girl got inside of the bank safely. Of course, he would never tell her this, but he was also enjoying the sight of her walking away. He nodded confidently, proud of the way that he had handled himself with Diana. She was a bit younger than the girls he normally chased – he was praying that she was at least eighteen, though – but there was just something about her that caught her attention. And he had not been lying, either. Even though he had only been a cab driver for a few months, he had never jeopardized his job for a girl before. His friends, sure, but never a chick.
It was strange, though. He idled the cab as Diana approached the bank but she did not enter it. It was almost as if she was waiting for something herself. Her head was cocked slightly to the side and her back was arched; she was listening for something.
Patrick leaned back in his seat, keeping his eyes on her. He could not put his finger on it but he could not help but be drawn to her. He had noticed it the second time she had chanced upon his cab and, before he had even thought it over, he had offered her his phone number. He had not been all too sure that she would ever call but it definitely had been a pleasant surprise when he heard her voice earlier that afternoon. Even if she had only called him to ask for a ride… it was a start, at least.
It had been quite amusing to see that, after Diana had accepted his offer that she sit beside him rather than behind him, she had no idea where she was going. It worked in his favor, really – without having a true destination in mind, the pair of them spent longer together in the small cab.
The ride had been over before he knew it. Whether or not this really was the bank that Diana needed to go to, this was where she exited the taxi. He was glad that he had not pulled away yet, though. With the girl still standing before the bank, frozen at the entrance, he was beginning to think that this was not the one she needed to be dropped off at.
Feeling like it would definitely be a point in his favor if he popped up to offer her more help just when she needed it, Patrick decided to park the taxi and ask the girl if she was alright. Smirking to himself as he made sure to turn the engine off and palmed the ignition key, Patrick opened his door and slid out of the cab – just as another car came speeding down the street.
"Hey, watch it," he muttered under his breath as he barely missed being run over by a fellow cab driver. He raised his hands in annoyance, momentarily glaring at the back of the taxi before sighing in annoyance and walking around the front of his parked cab. He climbed onto the sidewalk, glancing forward. But, when he looked over at the Commerce's entrance, he saw that Diana was gone. Swiveling his head to the left, he caught sight of Diana vanishing down the side street.
Pausing, Patrick crossed his arms over his chest. His curiosity was most definitely piqued just then and, the way he saw it, he had two options: he could get back into his cab and finish out his shift or he could follow Diana and figure out what she was up to.
That decision was a simple one. An interested expression on his face, he began to head down the block. Maybe, if he was lucky, he would learn what it was that made him drawn to the girl. Or, perhaps, he could get her to agree definitely to a real date. It got lonely chauffeuring people about all day long.
Patrick nodded at a young woman pushing a baby carriage emerged from the side street. She looked vaguely nervous and, when she confronted him, just about to turn, she let out a small eep and steered her stroller around him before hurrying off down the block.
"Okay…" Shrugging, Patrick chose not to marvel at how some locals were even stranger than tourists. Instead, he remembered what he was doing and quickly turned down the corner – just in time to see Diana glaring furiously at the brick wall that was right in front of her. Her face was red and her hands were clenched at her side.
Patrick was confused – well, even more confused. He had been a little confused when he watched as Diana made to enter the bank only to forsake the door in favor of continuing down the block and turning down the side street. He had been a bit more confused when the blonde woman gave him a frightened look before avoiding him and hurrying away. But to witness Diana standing there, facing off against a wall? With no one else in sight?
Oh, lordy. With my luck, the reason I think she's so appealing ain't because I think she's cute. It's because she's nuts. Great…
Taking delicate (and purposely quiet, so as not to frighten her now) steps towards the girl, he waited for her to notice his approach. When she did not, he walked right behind her. "Hey, Diana? You okay?" Patrick tried to sound concerned and, in a gesture of compassion, he reached forward, letting his hand settle gently on her shoulder.
She jumped, more startled at the touch than the intrusion of his voice, as she turned her head to meet his gaze. "Patrick," she gasped, the color already staining his cheeks, "I didn't even see you there. What are you doing?"
"I was just checking up on you. What are you doing?" His eyebrow arched and he nodded at the brick wall. She was not sure how long he had been standing there, or how much he had heard her say to, well, no one, but she was aware how strange she looked.
Quick… what's a perfectly good reason for a girl to be yelling at a wall when she said she was going into a bank?
Uh…
But, before she could even come up with a lame excuse, something out of the corner of her eye caught her attention: there was a phantom hand reaching through the wall. Jack, finally giving in to Diana's nagging, wrapped his hand around her arm and pulled her into his nook. And Patrick, whose hand was still resting on her shoulder, went along for the ride.
She was entirely thrown off guard by the sudden jerk. There was barely enough time for her to register that Jack had touched her – she felt chills and shivered once – before she found herself, once again, in Jack's secret hiding place. It was just as she remembered it, what with the piles and piles of photographs that she had hoped never to see again.
And there, with his back turned stubbornly in her direction, stood Jack. His head was held high, though she could hear that he was, for some reason, wheezing, as he said sullenly, "There. You happy now?"
Diana did not have the chance to answer. Before she had even tried to squeak out any response, someone else spoke.
"Hold up. What the fuck just happened?"
She froze, Jack Kelly momentarily forgotten. Her mind was whirring with only one understanding: Patrick… Patrick is here, too… How?
And that's when she realized that his hand was still resting lightly on top of her shoulder.
