This choice: Take the mask off your golem • Go Back...Chapter #54Joe Durras Returns by: Seuzz   "What's going on," Will Prescott asks. "I get this call from Chow Yun-Fatso out there, saying I won a lottery drawing and I need to get out here for my prize, and I find out it's you?"
"You're not Patterson, are you?" you ask.
"Dude!" He sounds offended. "Do I smell like an asshole?"
You grimace. If it isn't Joe under the mask, you hope it is Patterson. Or Black.
Hell, you'd settle for Lynch.
He bats at you as you lunge for his face. "Hold still, you moron," you growl at him. Mystic words tumble from your lips. You yank at his face; he pulls at your hands. Your grip on him slips--
--but the mask comes away. A figure falls backward and slumps to the ground. You grab it by the hair and raise his head.
Glory hallelujah. It's Joe Durras.
You slap him hard across the face. Once. His lips part. Twice. His eyes clench. Thri--
Joe grabs your wrist, and a shuddering pain ripples all down your arm. His eyes blaze.
"Thank God!" you gasp. "Come on, Joe, we have to--"
"Who the fuck are you?" He tightens his grip your arm.
"No time for that! There's this asshole outside--"
"There's an asshole in here!"
"Joe, I got you out of the mask so we could get out of here, I'll explain--"
"One more time, twig. Then I pull your arm out and beat you to death with it. Who are you?"
"Ow, shit!" You grimace. "Joe! Okay, okay! My name is Will Prescott. I can take you to the Libra Personae. But we have to get out of here!"
Now his eyes do blaze. You've seen Joe being silly and goofy and sexy; and from Frank's memories you even remember him being mad.
But you've no memory of him looking like this.
"Mask!" he roars, and shoves you back so hard you ricochet off the far wall. He snatches your mask off the floor and glares at it. He turns it over, and his frown deepens. "Says 'William Martin Prescott' here. That you?"
"Yeah." You nurse your arm. "They had you done up like me--"
"They? Who's they?" he demands sharply. "Fast, Prescott. Now I'm only asking questions once, and there's just a three-second delay before I hit you."
"These guys," you gasp. "Guys I know. At Westside. Patterson, Black. Uh--"
"Lisa Yarborough?"
"Lisa?" you gasp.
"Last thing I remember is a girl named Lisa Yarborough pulling me in for a kiss. She use the Libra on me?"
"Lisa?" you gasp again.
Patterson, you fuck! Using Lisa's mask to--
Joe's arm blurs as he pulls back a fist.
"No, not Lisa! She's another victim, like you! They used her face to--"
Now he does blur, his whole body, at once, as he flies at you, smashing you against the wall with a hand crushing your windpipe. His hot breath washes over your face. "And you're one of them, right, Prescott?" His grip tightens. "How else would you know all this?"
"Gggkhhkhhkkggkhg!" He relaxes his grip just a little. "Yeah, I helped, but they made me!" you croak. "They were gonna kill me, turn me into a golem if I didn't!"
"A golem?"
"A statue. Book can turn people into statues."
"And you're helping me now because?"
"Someone else is-- Jonathan Straussler's dad! He caught me! He got my mask off, and now I think they're gonna--"
"Straussler's dad? You sure?" You almost gargle your tonsils out as you nod. Joe looks around, and releases you. "Where are we?"
"King. Kong. Komics." You cough it out one syllable at a time. "You know, over on--"
"Yeah yeah. Why here?"
"I dunno." You cough some more. "Eric Kim came out and picked me up. He was acting like Jonathan's dad's boss or something. He snapped his fingers, and the old man jumped."
Joe stares at you hard. "Fat Eric?" he asks skeptically.
"Yeah! I don't get it either. But they were all, like, talking about how maybe the masks were toys that Eric had given Straussler's dad, or could give him, or-- I dunno. Look, we have to get outta here!"
"Door's locked, asshole! I've already tried it, though maybe you didn't see me. Listen does the name 'Proteus' mean anything to you?"
"That's Straussler's dad's company, isn't it? I had a mask on, but I'm forgetting a lot of--"
"What about--? Pay attention, Prescott!" He jabs a finger in your face. "What about 'Fane'?" His eyebrows go up.
"Fane? I dunno, it was all so-- Wait. Fane? Fane Toys, maybe?" Your head is swimming. "Straussler's dad said something like, 'Is this from Fane Toys' or 'Is this a Fane toy' or-- He was talking about the masks, and Eric said it wasn't one of theirs."
Joe's eyes go very hard. "Fuck. This is serious." He puts his hands on his hips and looks around. For the first time, he seems to notice his clothes. "What is this shit I'm wearing? Oh, sorry, Prescott, I guess it's yours. But yeah, okay, we'll get outta here. You say you know where the Libra is?"
"I think so. First place to look is at Westside, in the fu-- In the loft over the gym."
"The 'fuh'? What the fuck is the 'fuh'?"
"The fuck room. That's what we call it, that loft. Patterson and Black use it to--"
"Yeah yeah, you can paint me a picture later when I wanna jack off. Where's Frank?"
"He's back at your place. Um. He's also wearing a mask, like you were. He's trapped under a mask of you." You redden.
Joe stares at you, then bursts out laughing. "Oh, that's brilliant!" He claps his hands. "I'm beginning to like you, Prescott." And then he turns serious again. "Did you ever put on that mask of me?" he quietly asks.
You're sure the threat of a beating is still back there, so you shame-facedly nod. His nostrils flare. "Mostly I was wearing Frank's, though."
"So you know everything about us?"
"Yeah. That's how come I told you I could take you to the Libra, 'cos I knew you and Frank--"
You trail off as he pushes you against the wall and stares down into your face. "Only now?" he asks. "You decided to help us only now? When your ass is on the line?"
You swallow again, and nod guiltily.
"Uh huh," he says. He cranes his head back and looks you up and down. His lip curls. "You liked putting on masks, Prescott? Liked putting on masks and pretending to be other people? Other people who could--" He thrusts his hips lightly, touching his crotch to yours.
You want to melt; it sure feels like your face is trying to oblige. You shut your eyes and nod again.
"You do any--" Again, he brushes your crotch with his. "While pretending to be Frank?"
"No," you gasp. "It felt weird to--" You swallow. "While being Frank."
His voice sinks to a whisper. "But you said you put on my mask."
"For a little while." You flinch back, eyes screwed shut.
"So how did it feel when you--?"
Oh, God! He's getting aroused! Each time he touches you, he's harder.
The door opens. "Hey, sorry it took me--" Eric says. "Whoa, thanks for saving me a buncha-- Auuuggghhhffff!"
You open your eyes, just in time to see Eric bend double. Joe already has his fists over the shop owner's head, and he drops them hard on the back of your captor's neck. Eric sprawls onto the floor. Joe grabs a hank of his hair, raises his head a foot off the ground, and slams it against the concrete floor. Eric doesn't move after that.
Joe grasps you by the front of your shorts. "Anyone else in town know who me and my brother really are?"
"No. I'm the only one who ever put on the masks. I made sure they couldn't learn about you guys."
"Sounds like you got half a brain, Prescott. Too bad it's the wrong half. Let's go find Frank now." He pulls you out and locks the door behind.
You expect him to stride out into the shop, but instead he pushes you into a corner. "Can you guess what's coming next?" he grins. You shake your head. Before you can ask what he means, you hear hoarse shouts from the front of the store. The doorbell jangles, and then there's silence.
"Coast is clear now," Joe says, and pulls you into the dim shop. He leads you up to the counter, and plucks up the phone receiver. "Call the house, get the fake me to come pick us up. It'll sound less weird than me talking to me. And I'm a little preoccupied at the moment."
You look out the front window, and glimpse the two guys who drove out with you. They're running down the middle of the street, and they seem to be chasing--
You blink. They seem to be chasing Joe.
You put the receiver down. "He can't pick us up. Your truck is at the Strausslers'."
He grabs your collar. "If we lose our truck on account of you," he shouts, "I will personally hold the Coke bottle that Frank stuffs you into!" His eyes kindle again, but he masters himself. "In that case--" He slams the register with his fist, and the tray pops open. "We'll take a cab courtesy of--" He pulls out the single five-dollar bill in the register. "Fuck, how does Fat Eric manage to stay in business?"
* * * * *
The cab drops you off three houses down from his place, and Joe stops you from advancing. "You're sure you're the only one who knows about us?" he asks. You nod. "Well, just in case, I'm going ahead. Me myself, not my shadow, in case someone needs clobbering. You stay put."
But as he trots off, you feel sorely tempted to run off. Joe is the nice one; you shudder to think what Frank will do to you. They are magicians of a sort, after all.
And Eric and Jonathan's dad? They're just businessmen.
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