Objects of Worship (19 page)

He was confident that he had achieved complete control
of Basil’s body; he should concentrate on enlisting Judith’s
unwitting aid.

He stepped into the kitchen, intending to woo the
monstrous female.

She stood at the stove, stirring some putrid, foul-smelling concoction.

Judith heard the door creak open and turned to see Basil
walk into the kitchen. He smiled at her.

Holding his arms out toward her, he said, “Judith,
darling, I’m sorry I’ve been so distant these past few days;
it’s the stress, y — ”

And then his body contorted every which way, his face
twisting maniacally, maggots flipping out of his mouth,
nose, and ears.

Judith just didn’t know what to think anymore. What
was going on with Basil these days? After centuries of
marriage, you’d think she knew all of his moods.

After a few minutes, Basil finally steadied himself on
the table. He shook his head as if to collect himself, and
then said, with a hint of desperation, “Oh Judith, baby . . .
That smell! I love your brain stew! That’s what gave me the
strength to come back. That wasn’t me — ”

And then the contortions began again, more violent
than before. Basil looked like he had no control over his
movements. She was worried that he might lose an arm or
something. The last thing they needed was the expense of
reconstructive surgery. What was wrong with that man!

Judith had to duck out the back door to avoid being
hit by Basil’s flailing body. She peered inside through
the window, mesmerized by the strange and disturbing
spectacle. Nearly fifteen minutes later, the episode finally
subsided, and Basil collapsed on the floor.

Giovanni had underestimated the strength of the monster’s
willpower. While he and Basil struggled for control, the
body lay paralyzed on the kitchen floor.

I am Giovanni, high priest of the redoubtable Yamesh-Lot;
you are nothing but a snivelling abomination
, the sorcerer
mentally spat at Basil.

Oh yeah! Well, you’re nothing but a filthy fleshie animal. I
eat dumb beasts like you for breakfast
, Basil spat right back.

You cannot hope to match the power of my eldritch magics,
monster. You will succumb, and I will triumph.

This is my body, and I’m not gonna let some stupid animal
control me.

Cringe before my might, vile monster!

And so it went, for interminable hours.

Judith called Doctor Dora. She’d been their family
physician for ages, and she was one of the rare doctors who
still made house calls. It was the only way Judith ever got
Basil close to having a checkup. He didn’t trust doctors, but
good old Doctor Dora always took his jibes with a grin. He
never let her give him a physical or directly examine him in
any way, but she knew how to surreptitiously ask the right
questions.

After she left a message with Doctor Dora’s secretary,
Judith cleaned the mess Basil had made in the kitchen.
While he was flailing madly, he’d knocked the pot from the
stove, splattering Judith’s brain stew all over the kitchen.

It was a shame that so much food had been wasted,
but she noted with pleasure how the stew seeped into the
fleshly plush of the chairs, how it filtered through cracks
where the counter met the wall. At least the kitchen would
always keep a fresh aroma of decaying brains. Judith liked
to see the positive side of things.

It was hard to clean the floor, though, what with Basil
just lying there. So she dragged him into the living room. As
she did so, she noticed how the stew that had spilled on him
was leaving a trail of brain slime. She plopped him on the
couch, and, as she’d hoped, she saw brain stains appear on the
upholstery. The living room would smell really brainy now.
The positive! Always concentrate on the positive!

As Judith was about to return to the kitchen, the doorbell
rang.
That was fast
, thought Judith.
Good old Doctor Dora!

But it was their neighbour Raymond at the door. “Hello,
Judith, dear. I’m so sorry to be barging in like this, but I was
wondering if I could borrow a cup of brain butter? I need it
for dinner tonight, and I hadn’t realized that we were out.”

“Huh — ”

“Mmm. Is that your brain stew I’m smelling? You know,
you’ve never given me that recipe.”

“I — ”

“Judith, dear. How rude of me! You must be exhausted.
All those preparations for the big party.”

“Basil is . . . I mean . . . Yes, I’ve got some brain butter.
Just come in the kitchen.” Judith had no time to deal with
Raymond. How that man could natter! Couldn’t he see she
was in the middle of a crisis, here?

On his way to the kitchen, Raymond noticed Basil on
the couch. “Still the same old Basil! Napping while you
run yourself ragged. You should whip that man into shape
sometime, Judith, dear.”

Judith’s patience had just about run out. She opened
her mouth to give her neighbour a piece of her mind, but
Raymond was saved by the doorbell.

Judith had hoped to get Raymond out before the doctor
arrived. She didn’t want him to gossip about Basil’s health,
especially now, when all she wanted was a nice anniversary
party without having to worry what people said about her
and Basil behind their backs. Maybe she could shoo him out
the back door?

“Raymond, dear, could you maybe get the butter
yourself and see yourself out by the back? As you said, I’m
so dreadfully busy, and that would help me.” The doorbell
rang again.

“Of course, Judith. So sorry.” Raymond gently patted
Judith’s arm; it took all her self-control not to sock him
one.

As he headed for the kitchen, Judith opened the door on
the third ring. This time it really was Doctor Dora.

The war between Giovanni and Basil raged on, with no victor
in sight.

After Doctor Dora left, Judith’s anxiety grew. The doctor
had recommended hospital care, and Judith knew that
Basil would just hate that. She’d told the doctor that she’d
have to think about it.

The problem was that Doctor Dora had not been able
to diagnose Basil. As far as the doctor could tell, there was
nothing wrong with Basil. She couldn’t explain why he was
unconscious and unresponsive.

Responsive! That word sparked an idea. Basil loved her
brain stew so much. There was still some left in the pot.
What if she fed him some? Maybe that would bring him out
of it. It certainly couldn’t hurt.

It seemed like nothing could break the stalemate. Giovanni
had sorcerous might on his side, but Basil had the advantage
of fighting on his home turf, his own body.

And then Judith poured some brain stew down Basil’s
throat.

Basil’s favourite dish. The taste distracted him for a
split second, and that was just enough for Giovanni to gain
the advantage and push Basil’s conscience down into some
dim cellar of the mind the two now shared. Giovanni could
have obliterated Basil completely, but he was afraid of the
consequences. He might inadvertently kill himself in the
process.

Giovanni regained control. He stirred Basil’s body
awake.

When Basil regained consciousness, Judith started asking
him questions, but he shushed her, saying, “I’m just so
nervous and excited about our anniversary, baby; it’s
making me realize how much you mean to me.”

And then he kissed her, almost shyly, like he’d never
done it before.

Well this was one change she didn’t mind. Basil had
never been so romantic before. Talking about their
anniversary that way, and then that tender kiss, his mouth
maggots tickling her lips. Those new eyes of his had really
made a difference. She hoped they’d last, or at least have a
lasting effect!

Then he picked her up in his arms and led her to the
bedroom.

In all his years of service to the dark lord Yamesh-Lot,
never had Giovanni been called upon to do something as
disgusting as having sex with a zombie in a bed of mud.

He had to admit, though, that the mud felt really good,
soothing his decaying flesh. These zombies appeared to be
immortal, and somehow they regenerated skin and organs
just fast enough to keep most of their skeletal frames
covered, but not so fast as to lose that permanent veneer
of putrid decay.

When he’d pressed his maggot-filled mouth onto Judith’s
maggot-filled vulva, it required all his self-discipline to
keep up his role as the enthusiastically enamoured Basil.

Afterward, he’d told her how he wanted to decorate the
backyard for the party “so it would be just perfect,” and
what could she do but agree?

Judith couldn’t remember Basil ever having been so
assertive before. At first she’d enjoyed how he was showing
so much interest in their anniversary party. She fell in love
with him all over again.

But then, despite herself, she started to resent him. He
grew increasingly bossy, insisting that things be exactly
the way he wanted them. If she showed any hesitation, he’d
start having sex with her with such vigour that she found
herself unable to deny him anything.

She couldn’t recognize her husband or her marriage,
torn between missing the comfort of how things had always
been and thrilling at the excitement of Basil’s newfound
virility and unpredictability.

Of all Giovanni’s preparations for summoning Yamesh-Lot
back to this plane of existence, the torches laid out in the
shape of a star was the one he’d had to work the hardest
to convince Judith to accept. She just didn’t like fire —
was quite afraid of it, in fact. Maybe these creatures were
particularly vulnerable to fire? In any case, after a weekend
outing at a fleshie slaughterhouse — where, for a fee, you
could watch a zombie butcher rip apart live humans and, if
you were lucky, maybe even get splattered by a bit of gore —
followed by a five-hour sex session next to a lake of raw
sewage, she finally relented.

Judith wanted to be loved, and Giovanni was grateful
that Basil had done such a poor job of it all these centuries.
It made his work easier now.

So the big day was finally here. The guests had started
to file into the backyard, the torches had been lit in the
proper order, the animal skins had been hung just right,
the appropriate mystical sigils had been painted on the
available surfaces.

These abominations wanted a party. He’d show them a
good time.

George and Raymond were the last of the guests to arrive.
“Happy anniversary!” Raymond squealed while George
handed Judith their gift.

Judith gracefully accepted the Negro curtains from
George and Raymond. “Did you guess that we were sounding
you out that day at the mall?” Raymond asked. “We were so
thrilled that you liked this shade.”

Maybe she could “accidentally” burn these curtains
or something? Maybe Basil’s torches would be good for
something after all? There was no way she was going to put
these up in her house.

Biting
down
her
irritation,
Judith
disentangled
herself from her neighbours to see how Basil was dealing
with the guests.

Why was Basil embarrassing her so? Yes, Judith liked all
the sex and romance in their lives nowadays, but she had
to admit that, in the end, she’d made up her mind that she
preferred the old Basil. The one she could predict. The one
she could control. The one who wasn’t so weird.

Basil lined up the confused guests in a spiral around the
torches. He asked them to join hands; he was so excited it
was as if he were standing in front of an open vat of fresh
brains.

Basil waved to Judith, “Come on, darling! The fun’s
about to start!”

Yes! Giovanni sensed Yamesh-Lot’s presence prodding at the
edge of his consciousness with increasing force. The ritual
was working. Soon the dark lord of nightmares would once
again roam the Earth. He would rid the world of this zombie
pestilence. Giovanni would once again be free to prey on
mortals to assuage his god’s hunger.

These zombies merrily chanted the invocation Giovanni
had taught them, following the steps the sorcerer had marked
on the ground. These fools had no idea they were summoning
their own doom!

The chant reached its conclusion; the dancing stopped. The
sky grew dark; and Yamesh-Lot appeared: a gigantic chaos of
dark tendrils that sprang from the centre of the star defined
by the torches. Yamesh-Lot towered over the zombie suburb,
blending with the darkness of the sky. The god’s power flooded
Giovanni’s mind, and the sorcerer laughed loudly.

Yamesh-Lot’s thick, gooey substance fully materialized.
He captured the gathered zombies, wrapping them in His dark
tendrils, preparing to consume their essence and transform
them into nightmare acolytes who would haunt humanity’s
dreams in His name.

And then the zombies started to eat Giovanni’s god.
They chomped ravenously on the tendrils; they chewed and
swallowed the black god meat like it was the best meal they’d
ever had.

Giovanni felt his god’s pain sear through him. The sorcerer
screamed and fell on the ground writhing.

Berserk
with
feeding
rage,
the
zombies
ate
through
Yamesh-Lot’s body with relentless ferocity.

Giovanni
felt
his
god’s
presence
fade.
The
ancient
sorcerer — still ensconced within Basil — fainted, and then
finally died, along with his god.

Basil never did tell Judith that he’d been possessed by the
spirit of a fleshie animal. It was just too embarrassing.
He had witnessed everything Giovanni had done with his
body, but had been unable to act.

He’d
noticed
that
Judith
hadn’t
been
altogether
displeased by Giovanni’s behaviour, and he wasn’t about
to give her the satisfaction of knowing that it had been
someone else who had been so romantic with her. He’d
never hear the end of it.

After that weirdness at the wedding anniversary party,
as far as Basil could tell, the animal who’d invaded his mind
was gone for good. What a relief! And the guests had sure
enjoyed that unexpected snack. On the other hand, his
suave jet-black eyes had turned a dull brown, and whereas
they had seemed impervious to rot before, he felt them
start to go mushy on him. He sighed. More spending.