Warning, this short story contains references to and descriptions of violence and prejudice. May be triggering for some audiences, especially right now.
Having your neck broken hurts. Having your neck not break, but instead wrenched and constricted by your own bodyweight so your windpipe and arteries are tightened like the twists in a pig’s guts is far worse. I don’t know why they went for me, why they picked me. They didn’t say much except slurs and insults I won’t repeat here. They just strung me up, and watched. Some of them were even laughing. I won’t lie, I pissed my pants while I was up there. No shame in that, it’s biological.
I might’ve been left up there to rot while they rode away, but something happened. I didn’t die. Not because I’m some crazy strong hunk who’ll break a rope with his own neck, nor because some white guy came along and rescued me. I was still up there, my brain just about ticking over, when a voice spoke. It was a woman’s voice.
“I take it you dislike suspenseful stories.”
I couldn’t exactly turn to look, but I could swear someone had just appeared next to me. I don’t know how to describe it exactly, but... Imagine when someone comes round a door quietly, so it looks like they’ve just appeared. Like that, only there wasn’t any door. Just think air around me and my piss-stained jeans. She did eventually appear, but I couldn’t exactly ‘see’ her. I was nearly dead, and everything was a red haze. I’m pretty sure there were wings there, and something that reflected the sunlight around her shoulders.
I couldn’t speak, but I’m pretty sure I ‘thought’ to her. You an angel?
The reply held a smile. “No, and no devil either. I’m here to make a proposal. I take it you do not wish to remain for the next five weeks up there?”
What d’you think?
“I think a cowboy like you, just minding his own business while he went to another herd, did not deserve to become the guest of a necktie party. What would Lucas say if he saw you now?”
I didn’t know what to think about that. Lucas had a wife at his ranch, but during our drives together, we... Well, it happened in those days. We’d do our thing to survive, to stay sane, to be close together. But...well, I didn’t wanna linger on it. I was about to die, so might as well enjoy whatever this hallucination was. The shape in the red haze seemed to be turning to look directly at me.
“Not a pretty sight now, but you were comely once upon a time. I can see that, as I can see elements of your memories while your brain continues to function. You may be comely again. Would you here my proposal?”
Why not? Not like you’re real anyway.
“Oh ye of little faith. The proposal is simple. You get to live out your natural lifespan, in exchange for...serving me.”
If my blood hadn’t already been bursting my brain, I’d have felt it rising. My people had fought to break free of those white bastards in the south ten years before, and seeing another white bitch making another offer... But... Wait, was she white? I couldn’t tell through the haze of pain. She didn’t seem to be any skin colour I’d known. Not White, not Black, not Mexican, not Chinese. Not even anyone from the Chickasaw or Seminole or any other tribe I’d met while herding the cattle on their drives. The woman’s voice pushed through my brain again.
“Let me see, what is the date now? Ah yes, in the current human calendar, it is 1871 July 23. You will be an agent for us until 1971 July 22.”
Agent? You don’t look like no agent.
“Ah yes, the double negative. An interesting linguistic quirk, sadly demonised by speakers of so-called ‘proper language’. You see, our presence on your world is naturally very limited, and requires us to use local help and knowledge to aid in our own issues. In exchange for agreeing to this service, you shall not only be restored to full health, but you shall ceased to age for the duration of your service, you shall have more than adequate funds, and access to our private resources.”
It was too good to be true. What’s the catch?
“Well...you will be unageing. You will outlive everyone else around you. And you must perform a certain mission for us. And it may not always be pleasant.”
So you’re really just a driver.
“If you wish to use such a colloquialism. There is no compulsion to accept the offer, that is not our way. You must do so in full knowledge of what you must accept. If you wish to stay up there and die, we shall not gainsay your choice.”
Her meaning was clear. If I didn’t say yes, she’d leave me swinging. If I said yes, she’d let me down, but I’d be tied to her for a century. Hell, I wanted to tell her to go to hell, but...
Where do I sign up?
“There is nothing to ‘sign’. But you will feel a slight bump.”
The figure moved, produced something. There was a flash of light, then I dropped to the ground. I was about four feet up, and I’m pretty sure something broke. Then I was rolled onto my front, and then... I don’t wanna describe the pain I felt in that moment, so I won’t. Just put it this way; Jesus had it easier.
When my vision cleared, I was still lying on the ground. My hands were still tied with some kinda twine which cut my skin, and I felt that bloody noose round my neck, but it was loose. I wasn’t slowly strangling to death under my own weight anymore. I wasn’t hanging anymore. And over me...
I kid you not, I almost pissed my pants again. The figure over me wasn’t a devil, but it sure wasn’t no angel. It was as if a snake had kids with an eagle and both parts hadn’t torn each other apart. Scaly skin, six pairs of wings, the kind of face I’d last seen on a cut-up body at Gettysburg, and hands more like scorpion claws than anything I’d want stroking me. But that voice... I hadn’t noticed how beautiful it was when I was dying. It looked small now, hovering in the air, some strange light that wasn’t the sun dancing around it.
“Contract has been established, revival achieved. Revival, standard, so no additional time to compensate. What name should I use for you? Not your own, but a name that is how you will be referred to by me.”
I thought. Well, I’d cheated death, I guess. I hadn’t done it myself, but I’d taken the chance. Now I’d have to live with what I’d done. Like...
“Spider.”
The thing looked at the object it held again. “Spider. A reference to Anansi. Trickster deity common among the peoples of West Africa. A suitable code. Very well, spider. I leave you with a first gift.”
A snap, of fingers or claws, and I felt the twine round my wrists snap. There was a thud, and the thing...walked through the door. Again, that’s the only way to describe it. It was bloody hot, so I pushed myself up and made for the shade of the tree those White bastards had used as a gallows. I looked at where I think the thing had dropped whatever it was, and saw a small object. A parcel loosely tied with the same kind of twine that bound my wrists.
Well, there wasn’t nothing else to do. Pulling that noose off, I settled down and unwrapped the parcel. It was a note, wrapped round a small wad of money. $500. I swear to you, I’d never seen that much in my life before all in one place. I guess it took a few seconds for me to realise my mouth was flapping like an undone fly. I got that money deep into my pocket, then looked at the note. My Momma had taught me to read, and the writing was clear.
‘Go fifteen miles south of here to the town of Long’s Rest. Go to the local saloon and speak with the bartender. When she asked what you would like, say “A Fae Special”.’
I folded it. There was no doubt, I was alive. Or maybe I was some ghost and I’d be walking around spooking people for God knew how long. But if I was alive... Better alive and walking around than left hanging, or buried by the roadside or tossed in a creek.
Walking fifteen miles is no joke, and my boots weren’t the best. But I got there, found a one-horse town that probably hadn’t seen any action since some lost 49’ers came through way back when. Ultimately, it was a simple job finding the saloon, pushing my way inside, seeing no-one around, seeing the Chinese bartender wiping down some spill that looked to have a trace of something other that whiskey or water in its contents. She looked directly at me, and what I’ve heard called a stage smile spread over her face.
“What can I get you?”
I almost ran, but I managed to get the words out. “I’ll have...a fae special.”
The change in expression on her face was a bit frightening. Her smile remained the same, but her eyes went cold, flicking from side to side. Then she gave a signal with her hand to ‘come with me’. Her voice was still the same.
“I think we’ve got some of that in the back. But there’s some crates on it, mind helping move them?”
“Sure.”
There wasn’t anyone in the place to stare at us as she led me round into the small storeroom. There was a bucket of lye there, and the air inside the place was really dry. Wondered why, given where we were. She motioned to close the door, and when I did she immediately rushed forward and pinned me.
“Who sent you?”
I didn’t know how to answer. Glad I didn’t have to. That voice came again, the female voice, this time hovering behind the barkeep.
“I sent him, Wan’er. So you need not be suspicious.”
The woman turned, and I saw what she saw. The same thing I’d vaguely seen above me when I’d been cut down and brought back. It...looked like a human. I don’t know what else to say. It had two legs—they bent the wrong way—two arms—they ended in those claw things—other things—either too many or too small—and a head that looked like a crab got stitched together with a dried-up herring. And its wings looked more like those crazy things Le Bris created.
The woman Wan’er turned and bowed her head. “Apologies. But I can’t be too careful these days. You know the kind of thing that’s round around.”
“I know.” The thing looked at me with its three eyes. “I am glad you decided to trust me. Or perhaps it was mere curiosity that led you here.”
“Call it curiosity.” I glanced down at myself. “Sorry about this.”
“I have had far worse enter my saloon.” Wan’er walked to a large barrel and pulled the front away, showing the shelves inside. “You’ll need new clothes. I’ll get rid of the old ones.”
The thing, still hovering, turned slowly to look at me directly. “By the way, we have a number of methods for...detailing matters. But we have no means of reading minds. I would know your name.”
I couldn’t stop the smile creasing my face. “The name’s Dallas. Dallas O’Key.”
Wan’er, who’d gotten a fresh set of clothes out, turned. “What kind of a name is that?”
I’d already died once, so it didn’t feel like much to tell the story. I won’t give you the version I told them. I’ll give you the brief version. And the truth. My Mama was working in the south on a plantation. One night, one of the drivers got horny and took her. I appeared nine months later. She called me Kwaku because I was born on a Wednesday. The driver knew I’d come from him, and he called me Dallas O’Kay. Must’ve thought I was an okay kid. He called me Dallas after where he was from. My first memory was the driver beating me and Momma with his whip.
My next clear memory was seeing the guy’s corpse beaten up during a breakaway, and getting away while my Mama distracted some of the other drivers. I never saw her again, but I remember a gunshot. After that, I lived how I could. Did some things I’m not proud of, but before any conservative crapsack suggests anything, that’s not why I like guys. I always did. It’s nothing unnatural, it’s just who I am. It’s why I liked Lucas, why I slept with him when we were running our cattle drives. The others didn’t care much, just wanted us to be quiet about it. There’s plenty you can do quietly at night in your bed.
The thing stared at me with its three shining silver eyes. “Your names are nice.”
“Better than what the driver called me.”
“Which was?”
“Shitbag.”
“That is a somewhat inappropriate name. Even by the standards of your species.”
“Yeah, no shit. Well...” I grinned, stretched. “Guess I’ve got a job now. What’s the pay? Or is $500 all I’m getting?”
“Our pay is quite suitable. $500 per year.”
I’m pretty sure my jaw dropped again. Don’t know if you’d think much of $500 a month, but back then, it was a bloody fortune. You were lucky to get $10 a month, I think the highest you got paid was $50 for one job. The creature looked hard at me.
“It is not merely for luxury. You need the means to purchase supplies, potentially bribe people, and pay rent for any accommodations you need to stay inconspicuous.”
“And I’m doing this...why?”
“You shall know. When the time comes. When we can walk among you without concern. Until then, do as you please.” A pause, then the creature continued. “And, so you know, you may call me Idiya.”
With that, the creature vanished. Just like before, just ‘walked’ through something that made it just vanish. I was left alone with the woman Wan’er, who was getting other stuff I’d need. A hat. A small gun. I felt the money there again. Well, first I was getting myself a new horse, then I was riding off to find somewhere safe. Maybe find Lucas again, let him know I was fine. And then... Well, as to what I ended up doing, that’s to come.
