The Jumper That Would Be A God came back around. Per my instructions Horatio grabbed him and demanded he provide proof, any proof, even the scantiest of a shadow of a reflection of proof, that he’s on the apotheosis track. If he could provide such proof, Horatio would release him and all would be well.
He talked a lot of shit instead. Bluster, bravado, and bullshit.
Horatio brought him to me. I asked for a test. A simple test that any apotheosis-tracked entity could perform, but any deceased mortal would have difficulty completing, if it could be completed at all. To be fair, since it was already my personal judgement that he was a conman trying to extend his wandering as much as possible, a third party would administer the test and judge it. If the third party declared him to be apotheosis in progress, I would cease the undignified treatment and formally take up the role of Watcher. If the third party declared him to be a wanderer, then it’s off to final judgement we go.
He thought it over.
What he doesn’t know, is the test had already been administered.
He failed.
He never noticed Horatio had rum on his hands when he grabbed him. I had spoken to Rummer John about the runner, and was given a wee bit of strong, peppery, hostile-to-mucus-membranes, volatile liquid. “Let Horatio keep the flask, and when next your boy makes an appearance, let your servant wet his hands with this brew. When he lays hand on the boy, if your boy slips out of Horatio’s grasp like a fart in church, then your boy really is becoming a god. Of sorts. It’s crowded like fuck over there. But if Horatio gains a grip that not even mine can break free… he’s just another mortal denying his death. Do with him as you will. He’s not mine. I don’t want the shit. It’s going to be one or the other. You can’t mistake the results.”
The Jumper tried to shake Horatio off of him to no avail. Pulling himself upright as best as he could, he declared, “I consent to this trial! And I shall be proven! And you shall kneel before me and take me as your highest god!”
Away to Under The Road we go. I didn’t drag his ass to the bar. RJ said the Jumper wasn’t his and he didn’t want him. I just wanted another pair of hands to prove this once and for all. Standing on the side of the road leading to the road that led to the bar, I called for the strongest of men to come prove themselves. “I heard the [spirits] here are strong, and that [those that drink at the bar] are the strongest! Who will prove this and challenge their grip against the grip of my servant?”
“Woman! We know you! You know us! Why do you ask what you already know?”
“You know my grip, and some of you have tasted both sides of my hand, true. But see my servant, he counts as your number. An equal trial then, is it not. The challenge is this. You see the spirit my servant holds. Take him.”
“And if we succeed?”
“You get to see me bested and made the life-servant of a god.” This brought a crowd to the side of the road.
“And if we fail?”
“One of you, will gain a servant tonight, if you want him. Otherwise, I’ll feed him to the gators.” The Jumper shrieked and looked at me in sudden fear.
“So, by losing, we gain?”
“Yes.”
“He is nothing! Look at him! Scrawny and thin and not even pretty!”
“You that remember when the sun burned your skin, and kissed away the sting of the bleeding welts. Does not how I stand look familiar? I tell you, I have something you wanted when the cold water burned still pleading flesh.” I spoke each word slowly. Some did not understand what I said. Those that did, came forward.
“If we succeed, you will serve him.”
“Yes.”
“If we fail, he will serve… one of us?”
“Yes.” The Jumper shrieked again and protested that he was not property to be haggled over.
“You should have thought of that when I offered you a chance to depart cleanly. But you made yourself a pain in the ass and took advantage of my kindness. I am not the benevolent ingenue you tried to dupe into servitude any longer. I am your auctioneer. And you will be handed over to the [spirit] that tries the hardest to pull you from Horatio’s grip. This is the test! Horatio’s hands have been touched by [Rummer John] in preparation for you. If you were a god, you would never have been caught. But since you’re not, only [Rummer John] himself can pull you free from Horatio.” I looked over the increasing crowd. “That is, unless he has blessed one of his with the hands necessary to pull you free. For only [Rummer John] can take from [Rummer John].” There were murmurs of ascent from the crowd. “Who comes to show himself! Step up!”
Some came with strong arms and heavy bones. They did not even turn a fold of cloth over. Some came with quick ingenuity and application of sciences. They did not even wipe away the dust of travel. Old, young, wise, dumb, many attempted to pull the Jumper free. They all gave an honest effort. They all failed.
A voice carried across the wind. “What’s this? What’s this? Who sells spirits in open sight? Who barters a man’s soul on the banks of the river?” I knew the voice.
“Weaver Ravened does.” I spoke clearly.
“What price have you set for him, this soul that you grip so tight?”
“An empty bottle.” The crowd looked at each other in askance. They knew I spoke in riddles, but they didn’t know what I meant by it. There was no answer for some time, but no one moved. We all knew who spoke. The proceedings was in his control now.
A spirit that looked young in body but old in face came walking down the road. He has such a force of presence, the crowd parted for him without question. His body was crisscrossed with scars that will follow him long past the memory of his life has faded.
“The bottle is empty. But now my hands are wet.” He held up his hands. They smelled of the same harsh liquid that was given to Horatio. “He said if I could take the boy, the boy was mine to take.”
“Indeed. He spoke true.”
“Have all others had their try?”
I looked over the crowd. They took a step back in surrender. “They have.”
The man grabbed the Jumper with both hands. Both he and Horatio braced for a test of strength against each other. The man pulled slightly to set his footing, and accidentally slipped the Jumper out of Horatio’s hands so neatly, I almost accused Horatio of intentionally letting go.
But Horatio was looking at his hands in shock. I noted they were dry, and the peppery coating had completely left him.
“Thank you, Ma’am. [The Old Man] said if I was patient, I would be rewarded. I know this bastard. And now I get my due.” The Jumper started screaming and pleading, but his new master cold punched the man and knocked him out. Throwing him over his shoulder, he left down the road, away from the road leading to the road that led to the bar. He whistled happily a tune from his living memory.
I recognized it.
Any qualms I might have had about selling a human’s soul was instantly settled.
“Well, that’s all the entertainment I have tonight. Thank you for helping me put this matter to rest. Good night!” The crowd dispersed quickly. I waited for all of them to leave before I started heading back to Above The Road.
I felt a heaviness at my side. A voice whispered at my ear, enveloping me with spice. “You’ll be too old to be called ‘Girl’, soon. I’mma have to find another name for you if you keep this up.”
The voice was the last to leave me. Horatio stood silently with me on the side of the road. I reflected on my actions, on the threat teasing of a new name, and left Under The Road.