Adventures of Jacko the Conjurer by Jamie Ott (love books to read txt) 📕

And the Gods Came Down

Chapter 6

After Larry and Joe finished their mountain of food, he let them outside for a bit of exercise. They, too, noticed the sky, and were struck by it for a moment before resuming their childlike behavior of flying about, play fighting and taunting each other.

Uncle Bally stayed in his room for the rest of the day, though he got up to use the bathroom, once. Jacko wondered if he should have used his power to heal him, but then thought better of it. No doubt, he’d call Jacko evil and go on about witchcraft.

He spent the rest of the afternoon unloading the truck.

When he went to move the old mattress out of his room, he saw that someone had been there.

Lying on the crusty old blanket was a gold arch and light tan leather bag with gold arrows. They looked exactly like the ones he’d dreamt about weeks ago. Beside it lay a gold belt with a gold colored sword and gold round shield.

The sword was quite heavy, and the belt was stiff and cold. The bow and arrows had a bit of moist perspiration on them. On the sword was etched the words ‘And the light lead you.’

That night, he magically locked the bats in his closet. Before he shut the door, he said, “Go to sleep.”

The next morning, he found Uncle Bally in the kitchen, reading a newspaper and smoking a cigarette.

Immediately, the bat babies started hacking. They’d probably never smelled smoke before.

Jacko opened the back door to the kitchen.

“Go out and get some exercise. Hunt, if you will, but you’d better be back before twilight, or I’ll find you and bind you. Now, go!”

They zoomed out of the door.

“I must admit,” he said, taking a sip of his coffee. “I was hoping it was all a dream.”

Jacko pulled a cup from the cabinet.

“I’ve been wishing this was all a dream every day for months now.”

“So is it safe for you to be here?”

Jacko sat down at the table with his steaming coffee and said, “Not anymore. It seems someone knows I’m here. I would’ve left yesterday, but I wanted to make sure you were okay first.”

“I’m fine,” he exhaled and rubbed the back of his head. “I’m just sore is all; had a killer headache yesterday, naturally. Listen, I’m not kicking you out, I’m just wondering if more things, like those demon things, are coming? You said some of them are dangerous.”

“Yes.”

“You mean, yes, other more dangerous demons could come for you?”

He nodded.

“Just answer me this,” he said, staring him right in the eyes. “Are you the antichrist?”

Jacko choked on his coffee.

“Uncle Bally, it’s not the apocalypse, like in the bible. You just have to understand that there are many things that man got wrong - including the antichrist. You mustn’t bring that up, ever again.”

He watched his uncle put the butt to his mouth and take a long drag.

“What should we do to get ready?” he exhaled.

“This isn’t you’re fight. You’ll get killed. Just be prepared to go down into your shelter. If someone comes looking for me, just run. These beings are strong. You can’t beat them.”

“Son, I’ve been readying for this ever since the storms. I appreciate your concern for me, but war is what the end of the world is about in every religion! So yes, my life is on the line, just like any other man, woman, and child. If you’re fightin’ demons, then we must be on the same side: the right side. I know you think I’m not ready to know everything, but I want in on the fight. You can’t do everything alone; you’re gonna need someone. Now, what do we do?”

Suddenly, it hit Jacko that there was something he could help him with before he had to go.

He got up and went to his room.

A second later, he returned, carrying the bag of arrows and the bow.

“Wow! Where did you get them beauties?”

“Someone left them for me while we were in town. I think I’m supposed to use them, but I don’t know how.”

Jacko didn’t realize how heavy they were. Ever since getting his blessing, he’d become stronger than a normal man. So without thinking, he handed the bag and bow to his uncle, who plopped to the ground like a sack of potatoes.

“Ooof!” shouted his uncle.

The bag clanged noisily to the floor, making a huge dent.

“I - I’m sorry! Did you hurt your head?”

“I’m fine, dammit!” he shouted. “What hell? Is that really made of gold?”

“I don’t know. I think its gold and platinum. Mom used to tell me stories about these kinds of weapons. They’re meant to kill things that don’t wound easy. Demons have thick skin.”

He helped Uncle Bally off the floor.

That afternoon, he and his uncle set up an enormous foam target in the back. He taught him how to aim far and high, and how to adjust for speed according to target and distance. Uncle Bally used a spare set of bow and arrows he had in his garage while Jacko used the gold ones.

The bat babies, having returned from hunting, seemed to the think the arrows were a game. Cackling like witches, they grabbed them, midair, and threw them back at him and Uncle Bally. The arrows left painful welts on their bodies. Uncle Bally was especially miffed when he saw how easy even the little bat babies could throw the arrows, yet he could barely hold one.

“You stupid sons!” he yelled, when he saw that the arrows were putting dents in the side of his house frame. “You’re gonna fix those!!”

Then as they shot the foam target, the bat babies would fly across the path of the arrows, ducking around them. A couple of times, Uncle Bally’s arrows caught them, but they just bounced off their leathery skin.

“Will you get out of here?” yelled Jacko.

After a few days, they found Uncle Bally’s soft spot. They brought dead squirrels and birds to him, looking for his approval.

“Well, you guys are little warriors!” he laughed.

Although it took a couple days, Jacko got pretty good at archery; so good that the bats started staying a number of feet away. His arrows would’ve surely split them in half, killing them.

He found that he could get the arrows going faster than his uncle could see.

His uncle had since make shifted a catapult that flung bottles and cans into the air, which Jacko’s arrows shattered flawlessly.

“Jacko, have you noticed how the bag keeps filling itself?”

“Huh?”

He looked down at the bag.

Uncle Bally was right. He hadn’t retrieved any of the arrows that he’d shot in the last couple of days, yet the bag was full.

That evening, as they and the bats sat down to a stew dinner, there was a loud explosion on the front of the property.

Uncle Bally grabbed his .22.

“Here, take this,” he said, handing him one, too.

They ran to the front door.

The sky was a gleam as usual with white and greenish explosions, here and there.

The right portion of the yard was on fire. A figure leapt out of the flames, dancing around in a circle, screaming like an elephant. Its black leathery legs and horned head were visible as the flames melted down its midriff.

“That’s a demon, Uncle Bally.”

But Uncle Bally was distracted, looking at the sky. He said weakly, “I think your friends are here.”

Jacko looked up and saw bodies as big as mountains walking across the atmosphere as though it were solid ground. They were slightly hard to see, as their bodies were mostly fluidly clear, indicating that they were the gods of Ouranus.

“Those aren’t my friends, Uncle. They’re with the demons.”

One of the gods aimed a spear at them. A giant red bolt shot down.

Jacko pushed Uncle Bally out of the way. The beam blew out the front of the house.

“What did he do that for?” he shouted.

Behind the gods, a tribe of black cherubs with demons on their backs galloped across the sky, toward them. Their heads of many eyes a gleam, and their massive wings spread wide.

“Get inside the house!” shouted Jacko.

But Uncle Bally was frozen in fear. He wouldn’t move; he prayed, rapidly, under his breat.

He grabbed him by the collar around his neck and shouted, “Uncle Bally, this isn’t the Christian apocalypse! This is a war between species, like I tried to explain to you. If the demons catch you, you’ll be recycled into the volcano of life, and then you’ll be reborn a demon. We have to move, now.”

More bolts hit the lawn, combining with the bombs that Bally’d already buried. Grass and dirt covered them.

Jacko dragged Uncle Bally into the house.

“Listen,” he said breathlessly, wiping dirt off his face, “go down into your shelter and stay there. I gotta get out of here, but I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Jacko, if you think I’m gonna just let you run off, alone, you’re crazy!”

But he didn’t have time to respond, for they were clobbered, painfully, to the ground.

It took a moment for Jacko to realize that what clobbered him was the roof of the house.

He struggled to push the wood and shingles off. Once he was free, he saw that the house was completely leveled. The gods that were on his side appeared to have arrived, as all around him, giants jumped about, sword fighting and dodging beams that sailed from the points of tridents, rods and spears.

One demon on cherub, seeing him helpless, sent a dozen red beams at him, but a large white body blocked them all with his sword.

Quickly, he sifted the debris, calling his uncle’s name. Finally, he found his hand, but he was out cold.

An alabaster hand, the size of a garbage truck, lifted the debris, cupped Jacko and his uncle in his hand and shouted, “Go, now!!”

And then he threw them high over the mountains.

Meeting Oganat

Chapter 7

With Uncle Bally still passed out, they flew through the cold dark air for nearly an hour until he found a mountain that was covered in the tallest trees he’d ever seen. There was not a single light there, which lead him to believe it might have been completely deserted.

He settled them in amongst the trees. Then he conjured a couple cots and lay his uncle down on one. Next, he tried to heal Uncle Bally the way he healed himself, back in the fig orchard. But for some reason, his powers weren’t working. This scared him because he already had a head injury. So he listened to his heart beat and when that seemed strong, he monitored his pulse.

After a while, Jacko determined that Uncle Bally was merely unconscious, so he called fire to keep them warm, though there was no kindling, and layed back on his cot and fell asleep.

By the time Uncle Bally woke the next morning, Jacko had dandelion coffee brewing; although he used his powers to goad the process forward a bit. He also conjured his uncle’s favorite brand of smokes because he was often cranky in the mornings without them.

A couple fish smoked on a spit he made, just like his uncle showed him.

“See you’ve been busy.”

He cried and groaned as he tried to sit up.

Jacko rushed to his side and helped him. Then he filled two large bamboo shoots with coffee and handed one to him.

“Phew, that’s good! Much better than any I’ve ever made.”

Jacko tasted his, and then laughed. It was good; too good, but that was because he’d cheated.

“I was worried that you might not wake.”

“What? I’m fine!”

He tried to stand, but then, immediately, sat back down. He clenched his face, trying not to yell.

“I hurt all over!” he said through gritted teeth.

He lifted the hem of his jeans, revealing a severely swollen ankle.

“I don’t think I’ll be moving