Eclipse of Evil

ECLIPSE OF EVIL PART 12

CHAPTER XII

Daniel snapped his head away, forgetting to breathe. The bartender slid the drink toward him as if he were leprous and then quickly retreated, breaking a decanter in haste. Daniel caught his drink, gulped a breath, and focused eyes on the horned viper decal to recover. Jetting from his seat and avoiding the heat of blue eyes, he threw a quick, friendly smile at the old man and approached a seat near an empty round table.
   
To his awful dismay, the old man followed as well as the smoke-swathed eyes of customers who flinched like souls steeped in the steam of purgatory. One spider-like old woman with clownish-white hair shot arrows of pure hate at the old man with her eyes. The unnatural quiet in a public drinking place confirmed Daniel’s suspicions and increased his dread. He was a fool to be here. He hoped the attentive patrons distracted the old man.
   
After he sat in the chair at the round table, Daniel took a deep breath to ease his anxiety. Nevertheless, a jolt punched inside Daniel as the man noiselessly and gracefully slid unto the opposite seat, forcing Daniel to face him. Fortunately, the intensity of crystal blue eyes waned, allowing a relieved Daniel to study the face. Slowly working his mouth, the old man played with a wad that looked like wax. He frequently brought it forward between teeth after smacking moistened, wine-colored lips. The unshaven chin mechanically rotated. Sheered porcupine-like hair was full and white, brushed with silver. A baby-smooth, rosy complexion beneath a white shadow of a few days’ growth of beard presented a youthful appearance. In fact, stubble drew attention from the fine perfection of aristocratic features.
   
A millennium passed before the old one stopped chewing. He smiled a cool mountain spring, a smile that gathered tiny crow’s feet about the eyes, giving the only hint of age on an ageless face. His perfect row of brilliant teeth was another surprise. Daniel felt compelled to stare even though he realized with embarrassment that the man allowed the inspection. After the young man finished his observation, the old man bestowed a secret smile, motioned his eyes to the lower level, and then moved out, taking for granted Daniel would follow.

Don’t go,  something warned him, but the sure, all-knowing smile made him rise irrationally. This man knows me, knows everything about me, he thought, kindling within. I have to find out why I feel so stirred.
   
An invisible cord tugged Daniel from his seat toward the strange man striding ahead. They descended the steps, and he chose the farthest booth in a corner, hidden from the main room by an opposite booth. Before taking his seat, the old man shot his gaze at the table, and his pupils blazed. A miniature, clay dragon squatted there, showing glazed teeth amid gaping jaws. An amazing sweep of hand knocked it clear from the table onto the black, tessellated floor. Pieces shattered, scattered, and slid across the polished surface.
   
Daniel fired back from the table and dumbly stared at the disaster. The explosion turned on life. Glasses tinkled, coughs ensued, and guttural laughter filled the saloon. The patrons ignored the clashing noise and the broken dragon.
   
“Ye kin go te hell!” spat the man in an undertone, eyes smoldering

His cool demeanor gradually returned, and he sat down and gave Daniel a warm smile. No one inspected the vandalism, and the pieces lay scattered. The weird personification given to the clay dragon and the radical mood swing warned Daniel of mental instability. He was tinkering with a ready-to-explode, demented madman. Stupid as it was, Daniel stayed.   

The man’s eyes turned intimate and sad, affecting Daniel like nothing else.What power could resist them? He clutched his mug for support. Another flashing movement, and the mug was suspended in the man’s hand. Apparently, he contemplated whether to dash it too on the floor. Instead, he opened the window on the side, threw out the mug’s contents, banged it down on the adjacent booth, and turned its face from them. He studied Daniel until the young man bowed in confusion.
   
“Crazy. The old man’s crazy. Sumpthin ‘bout him I like, but he’s crazy.”  The old man stemmed his soothing voice of warm wool and probed deeper into Daniel’s face. He shook his head.“Darn psychological trash.”  The soft, sad rebuke flushed wonderful fear through Daniel. “Teel me, son,” continued the man in murmuring voice. “Watcha doin’ in a place like this?”
   
Daniel could not and dared not answer.