ZUVAMB\u0130LER\u0130N \u00c7A\u011eRISI<\/p>\n
G\u00fcvercinler u\u00e7u\u015ftuktan sonra iki adam da kaskat\u0131 vaziyette birka\u00e7 dakika oturdu.<\/p>\n
Buckner, “Pekala, sonunda onlar\u0131 g\u00f6rm\u00fc\u015f oldum,” diye m\u0131r\u0131ldand\u0131.<\/p>\n
“Belkide sadece lanetlenmi\u015f olanlar onlar\u0131 g\u00f6r\u00fcyordur,” diye f\u0131s\u0131ldad\u0131 Griswell. “O berdu\u015f da onlar\u0131 g\u00f6rd\u00fc-“<\/p>\n
“Eh, g\u00f6rece\u011fiz,” diye sakin bir G\u00fcneyli gibi arabadan indi fakat Griswell onu bilin\u00e7sizce k\u0131n\u0131ndaki silah\u0131n\u0131 \u00f6ne do\u011fru \u00e7ekti\u011fini fark etti.<\/p>\n
Me\u015fe kap\u0131 k\u0131r\u0131k mente\u015feleri \u00fcst\u00fcnde \u00e7\u00f6km\u00fc\u015f vaziyetteydi. Ad\u0131mlar\u0131, tu\u011flalar\u0131 harap olmu\u015f duvarlarda yank\u0131land\u0131. K\u00f6r pencereler g\u00fcn bat\u0131m\u0131n\u0131n k\u0131z\u0131ll\u0131\u011f\u0131n\u0131 yans\u0131t\u0131yordu. Geni\u015f salona girdiklerinde Griswell, salonun zemininden ba\u015flay\u0131p odaya kadar giden ve \u00f6l\u00fc adama do\u011fru \u00e7izilmi\u015f bir dizi siyah izler g\u00f6rd\u00fc.<\/p>\n
Buckner arabadan battaniye getirmi\u015fti. Onlar\u0131 \u015f\u00f6minenin \u00f6n\u00fcne serdi.<\/p>\n
“Kap\u0131n\u0131n yan\u0131na yataca\u011f\u0131m,” dedi. “Sen, ge\u00e7en gece yatt\u0131\u011f\u0131n yere yatacaks\u0131n.”<\/p>\n
“\u015e\u00f6minede ate\u015f yakal\u0131m m\u0131?” diye sordu Griswell, alacakaranl\u0131k yitip gitti\u011finde orman\u0131 \u00f6rtecek olan karanl\u0131\u011f\u0131n hayali \u00f6d\u00fcn\u00fc kopar\u0131yordu.<\/p>\n
“Hay\u0131r. Sende de el feneri var, bende de. Karanl\u0131kta uzan\u0131p neler olaca\u011f\u0131n\u0131 g\u00f6rece\u011fiz. Sana verdi\u011fim silah\u0131 kullanabilir misin?”<\/p>\n
“San\u0131r\u0131m. Daha \u00f6nce hi\u00e7 revolver ile ate\u015f etmedim ama nas\u0131l yap\u0131l\u0131r biliyorum.”<\/p>\n
“M\u00fcmk\u00fcnse ate\u015f etmeyi bana b\u0131rak.” \u015eerif ba\u011fda\u015f kurup battaniyesine oturdu ve mavi Colt’unun silindirini bo\u015falt\u0131p yerle\u015ftirmeden \u00f6nce her bir fi\u015fe\u011fi keskin bir g\u00f6zle dikkatlice inceledi.<\/p>\n
Griswell gergin bir \u015fekilde bir ileri bir geri doland\u0131, istemeye istemeye t\u0131pk\u0131 bir parag\u00f6z\u00fcn alt\u0131n\u0131n\u0131 \u00e7ekinerek vermesi gibi \u0131\u015f\u0131\u011f\u0131n yava\u015f\u00e7a s\u00f6nmesini diledi. Bir eliyle \u015f\u00f6mineye yasland\u0131, tozla kaplanm\u0131\u015f k\u00fcllere bakt\u0131. Bu k\u00fclleri olu\u015fturan ate\u015f, k\u0131rk y\u0131ldan fazla bir s\u00fcre \u00f6nce, Elizabeth Blassenville taraf\u0131ndan yak\u0131lm\u0131\u015f olmal\u0131. Bu fikir ziyadesiyle i\u00e7 karart\u0131c\u0131yd\u0131. Aylak aylak k\u00fclleri aya\u011f\u0131n\u0131n ucuyla kar\u0131\u015ft\u0131rd\u0131. K\u00f6m\u00fcrle\u015fmi\u015f art\u0131klar\u0131n aras\u0131ndan bir \u015fey ortaya \u00e7\u0131kt\u0131, bir avu\u00e7 ka\u011f\u0131t, lekelenmi\u015f ve sararm\u0131\u015f. Yine aylak aylak e\u011fildi ve k\u00fcllerin aras\u0131ndan \u00e7\u0131kard\u0131. Sert karton s\u0131rtl\u0131 bir not defteriydi bu.<\/p>\n
I\u015f\u0131l \u0131\u015f\u0131l parlayan silah\u0131n namlusundan g\u00f6zlerini k\u0131sarak ” Ne buldun?” diye sordu Buckner.<\/p>\n
“Eski bir not defterinden ba\u015fka bir \u015fey de\u011fil. G\u00fcnl\u00fc\u011fe benziyor. Sayfalar\u0131 yaz\u0131larla kapl\u0131 ama m\u00fcrekkep \u00e7ok solmu\u015f ve ka\u011f\u0131t \u00f6ylesine bir \u00e7\u00fcr\u00fcme safhas\u0131na gelmi\u015f ki \u00e7ok fazla yorum yapam\u0131yorum. Yanmadan \u015f\u00f6minenin i\u00e7ine nas\u0131l girmi\u015f olabilir?”<\/p>\n
“Ate\u015f s\u00f6nd\u00fckten \u00e7ok sonra at\u0131lm\u0131\u015ft\u0131r.” diye tahmin y\u00fcr\u00fctt\u00fc Buckner. “Muhtemelen burada e\u015fyalar\u0131 \u00e7alan biri taraf\u0131ndan bulundu ve \u015f\u00f6minenin i\u00e7ine at\u0131ld\u0131. Y\u00fcksek ihtimal, okuma bilmeyen biri.”<\/p>\n
Griswell, sayfalar\u0131n aras\u0131nda ki ufalanan yapraklar\u0131 umursamaz bir \u015fekilde silkeledi, g\u00f6zlerini k\u0131sarak solan \u0131\u015f\u0131\u011f\u0131n alt\u0131nda sararm\u0131\u015f karma\u015f\u0131k el yaz\u0131s\u0131na bakt\u0131. Sonra kaskat\u0131 kesildi.<\/p>\n
“\u0130\u015fte okunakl\u0131 bir giri\u015f! Dinle!” Ve okumaya ba\u015flad\u0131:<\/p>\n
“Bu evde benden ba\u015fka birinin daha oldu\u011funu biliyorum. G\u00fcn batt\u0131\u011f\u0131nda ve \u00e7amlar karanl\u0131\u011fa boyand\u0131\u011f\u0131nda geceleri etrafta dola\u015fan birini duyabiliyorum. \u00c7o\u011fu zaman geceleri kap\u0131m\u0131 yoklad\u0131\u011f\u0131n\u0131 duyuyorum. Kim o? K\u0131z karde\u015flerimden birisi mi? Celia Teyze mi? E\u011fer bunlardan birisiyse, neden evden b\u00f6yle kurnazca a\u015f\u0131r\u0131yor? Neden kap\u0131m\u0131 b\u00fcy\u00fck bir gayretle \u00e7eki\u015ftiriyor ve ben seslenince ka\u00e7\u0131p gidiyor? Kap\u0131m\u0131 a\u00e7\u0131p kar\u015f\u0131s\u0131na \u00e7\u0131kmal\u0131 m\u0131y\u0131m? Hay\u0131r, hay\u0131r! Cesaret edemem! Korkuyorum. Tanr\u0131m, ne yapaca\u011f\u0131m! Burada kalacak cesaretim yok- ama nereye giderim?”<\/p>\n
“Aman yarabbi!” dedi aniden Buckner. “Bu Elizabeth Blassenville’\u0131n g\u00fcnl\u00fc\u011f\u00fc olmal\u0131! Devam et!”<\/p>\n
Griswell, “Sayfalar\u0131n geri kalan\u0131n\u0131 \u00e7\u0131karam\u0131yorum,” dedi. “Ama birka\u00e7 sayfa sonra baz\u0131 sat\u0131rlar\u0131 \u00e7\u0131karabilirim.” Ve okudu:<\/p>\n
“Celia Teyze ortadan kaybolunca neden b\u00fct\u00fcn zenciler ka\u00e7t\u0131? K\u0131z karde\u015flerim \u00f6ld\u00fc. \u00d6ld\u00fcler, biliyorum. Deh\u015fet bir bi\u00e7imde, korku ve \u0131st\u0131rap i\u00e7inde \u00f6lm\u00fc\u015fler gibi hissediyorum. Ama neden? Neden? E\u011fer biri Celia Teyze’yi \u00f6ld\u00fcrd\u00fcyse, o ki\u015fi zavall\u0131 k\u0131z karde\u015flerimi niye \u00f6ld\u00fcrs\u00fcn? Zencilere kar\u015f\u0131 daima nazikdiler. Joan–“<\/p>\n
Duraklad\u0131, beyhude ka\u015flar\u0131n\u0131 \u00e7att\u0131.<\/p>\n
“Sayfan\u0131n bir par\u00e7as\u0131 kopar\u0131lm\u0131\u015f. \u0130\u015fte, ba\u015fka bir tarih alt\u0131nda, ba\u015fka bir giri\u015f- en az\u0131ndan bunun bir tarih oldu\u011funu kan\u0131s\u0131nday\u0131m, emin olam\u0131yorum.<\/p>\n
“‘- bunak zencinin ima etti\u011fi korkun\u00e7 \u015fey mi? Jacob Blount ve Joan’\u0131n ad\u0131ndan bahsetmi\u015f ama a\u00e7\u0131k\u00e7a bahsetmemi\u015f; belki de korkmu\u015ftur- ‘ Bu k\u0131s\u0131m okunakl\u0131 de\u011fil; sonra: ‘Hay\u0131r, hay\u0131r! Nas\u0131l olabilir? \u00d6ld\u00fc m\u00fc gitti mi? Fakat o Bat\u0131 Hint Adalar’da do\u011fup b\u00fcy\u00fcd\u00fc ve ge\u00e7mi\u015fte b\u0131rakt\u0131\u011f\u0131 ipu\u00e7lar\u0131ndan kendini vudunun gizemlerine dald\u0131rd\u0131\u011f\u0131n\u0131 biliyorum. Onlar\u0131n korkun\u00e7 t\u00f6renlerinden birinde dans etti\u011fini bile d\u00fc\u015f\u00fcn\u00fcyorum- nas\u0131l b\u00f6yle bir canavar olabildi? Ve bu- bu korku. Tanr\u0131m, b\u00f6yle \u015feyler ger\u00e7ek olabilir mi? Ne d\u00fc\u015f\u00fcnece\u011fimi bilmiyorum. E\u011fer geceleri evde dolanan, kap\u0131m\u0131 yoklayan, tatl\u0131 tatl\u0131 ama garip bir bi\u00e7imde \u0131sl\u0131k \u00e7alan o ise- hay\u0131r, hay\u0131r, deliriyor olmal\u0131y\u0131m. E\u011fer burada tek ba\u015f\u0131ma kal\u0131rsam k\u0131z karde\u015flerimin ki gibi korkun\u00e7 bir \u00f6l\u00fcm gelecek. Buna eminim.”<\/p>\n
Sayfalarda ki ba\u011f\u0131ms\u0131z tarihler ba\u015flad\u0131\u011f\u0131 gibi aniden sona erdi. Griswell b\u00f6l\u00fck p\u00f6r\u00e7\u00fck olmu\u015f olan defteri anlamland\u0131rmaya o kadar dalm\u0131\u015ft\u0131 ki karanl\u0131\u011f\u0131n \u00fczerlerine \u00e7\u00f6kt\u00fc\u011f\u00fcn\u00fc ve Buckner’\u0131n elektrikli el fenerini okuyabilmesi i\u00e7in ba\u015f\u0131nda tuttu\u011fundan bir haberdi. G\u00fcnl\u00fc\u011f\u00fcn etkisinden \u00e7\u0131k\u0131p ba\u015f\u0131n\u0131 kald\u0131r\u0131nca h\u0131zl\u0131ca karanl\u0131k koridorda etraf\u0131na bak\u0131nd\u0131 ve ba\u015flad\u0131.<\/p>\n
“Bundan ne anlam \u00e7\u0131kar\u0131yorsun?”<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n\n
<\/p>\n\t
THE CALL OF ZUVEMBIE<\/p>\n
Both men sat rigid for a few moments after the pigeons had flown.<\/p>\n
“Well, I’ve seen them at last,” muttered Buckner.<\/p>\n
“Only the doomed see them perhaps,” whispered Griswell. “That tramp saw them-“<\/p>\n
“Well, we’ll see,” returned the Southerner tranquilly, as he climbed out of the car, but Griswell noticed him unconsciously hitch forward his scabbarded gun.<\/p>\n
The oaken door sagged on broken hinges. Their feet echoed on the broken brick walk. The blind windows reflected the sunset in sheets of flame. As they came into the broad hall Griswell saw the string of black marks that ran across the floor and into the chamber, marking the path of a dead man.<\/p>\n
Buckner had brought blankets out of the automobile. He spread them before the fireplace.<\/p>\n
“I’ll lie next to the door,” he said. “You lie where you did last night.”<\/p>\n
“Shall we light a fire in the grate?” asked Griswell, dreading the thought of the blackness that would cloak the woods when the brief twilight had died.<\/p>\n
“No. You’ve got a flashlight and so have I. We’ll lie here in the dark and see what happens. Can you use that gun I gave you?”<\/p>\n
“I suppose so. I never fired a revolver, but I know how it’s done.”<\/p>\n
“Well, leave the shootin’ to me, if possible.” The sheriff seated himself cross-legged on his blankets and emptied the cylinder of his big blue Colt, inspecting each cartridge with a critical eye before he replaced it.<\/p>\n
Griswell prowled nervously back and forth, begrudging the slow fading of the light as a miser begrudges the waning of his gold. He leaned with one hand against the mantelpiece, staring down into the dust-covered ashes. The fire that produced those ashes must have been built by Elizabeth Blassenville, more than forty years before. The thought was depressing. Idly he stirred the dusty ashes with his toe. Something came to view among the charred debris-a bit of paper, stained and yellowed. Still idly he bent and drew it out of the ashes. It was a note-book with moldering cardboard backs.<\/p>\n
“What have you found?” asked Buckner, squinting down the gleaming barrel of his gun.<\/p>\n
“Nothing but an old note-book. Looks like a diary. The pages are covered with writing-but the ink is so faded, and the paper is in such a state of decay that I can’t tell much about it. How do you suppose it came in the fireplace, without being burned up?”<\/p>\n
“Thrown in long after the fire was out,” surmised Buckner. “Probably found and tossed in the fireplace by somebody who was in here stealin’ furniture. Likely somebody who couldn’t read.”<\/p>\n
Griswell fluttered the crumbling leaves listlessly, straining his eyes in the fading light over the yellowed scrawls. Then he stiffened.<\/p>\n
“Here’s an entry that’s legible! Listen!” He read:<\/p>\n
“‘I know someone is in the house besides myself. I can hear someone prowling about at night when the sun has set and the pines are black outside. Often in the night I hear it fumbling at my door. Who is it? Is it one of my sisters? Is it Aunt Celia? If it is either of these, why does she steal so subtly about the house? Why does she tug at my door, and glide away when I call to her? Shall I open the door and go out to her? No, no! I dare not! I am afraid. Oh God, what shall I do? I dare not stay here-but where am I to go?'”<\/p>\n
“By God!” ejaculated Buckner. “That must be Elizabeth Blassenville’s diary! Go on!”<\/p>\n
“I can’t make out the rest of the page,” answered Griswell. “But a few pages further on I can make out some lines.” He read:<\/p>\n
“‘Why did the Negroes all run away when Aunt Celia disappeared? My sisters are dead. I know they are dead. I seem to sense that they died horribly, in fear and agony. But why? Why? If someone murdered Aunt Celia, why should that person murder my poor sisters? They were always kind to the black people. Joan-‘”<\/p>\n
He paused, scowling futilely.<\/p>\n
“A piece of the page is torn out. Here’s another entry under another date-at least I judge it’s a date; I can’t make it out for sure.<\/p>\n
“‘-the awful thing that the old Negress hinted at? She named Jacob Blount, and Joan, but she would not speak plainly; perhaps she feared to-‘ Part of it gone here; then: ‘No, no! How can it be? She is dead-or gone away. Yet-she was born and raised in the West Indies, and from hints she let fall in the past, I know she delved into the mysteries of the voodoo. I believe she even danced in one of their horrible ceremonies-how could she have been such a beast? And this-this horror. God, can such things be? I know not what to think. If it is she who roams the house at night, who fumbles at my door, who whistles so weirdly and sweetly-no, no, I must be going mad. If I stay here alone I shall die as hideously as my sisters must have died. Of that I am convinced.'”<\/p>\n
The incoherent chronicle ended as abruptly as it had begun. Griswell was so engrossed in deciphering the scraps that he was not aware that darkness had stolen upon them, hardly aware that Buckner was holding his electric torch for him to read by. Waking from his abstraction he started and darted a quick glance at the black hallway.<\/p>\n
“What do you make of it?”<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
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