Promises In The Dark

Authors Note: Spoilers for "She's Not There" are contained within. 
Blitz tentatively dialled the toll-free number Saffron had given him several months ago. His heart hadn’t stopped racing since he’d left the Dupont compound in the swamp. Morgan if you won’t shut the fuck up, promise me this one thing. If what you say happened at the movies, happens ever again. You call this number, ask for extension 101. They’ll know what it means. Saffron had been so serious when she’d said that. After she’d finally believed that Bradward had been in his body, back on the fourth of July. 
After all, that happened today with dogs and cats, yet sadly no alligators. Mass hysteria, and lots of crystals. This was the time. It wasn’t just the store at risk anymore, but Harleen and Evve. Those resonance waves had done something to Harls, where was the lovely woman who wanted nothing more than to talk to him about teenage subcultures? She couldn't be complicit in whatever Ricksynergy and the Loop were cooking up. They’d kidnapped Doctor Graham Oak and were forcing him to work on crystals against his will. Their only deep throat or should that be shrill bark wasn’t saying anything. As Brutus refused to communicate beyond infrequent Roman Numerals. 
An automated recording picked up the phone line 
“Welcome to Dupont Petrochemical and Cosmetics, customer support line. For chemical spills please hang up now and call the EPA on 555-2368 and ask for Director Peck.”
A few other less serious options were reeled off then finally. 
“To speak to our 24-hour operator press zero now.”  
Blitz’s sweaty fingers hit zero on the touch-tone keypad
“Dupont Petrochemical Main Switchboard. Good Evening. How May I Help you?”
A very professional telephonist answered.   
“I hope you can, my name is Brian Morgan, and I was told to call this number, and ask for an extension 101.”
Blitz had a level of concern and seriousness unknown to all he’d ever met in his voice. 
“Yes, that must be important that’s the extension of our Chief Executive. I’ll connect you to her Cellular telephone.”
The unshakable air of professionalism on the other side of the line was very comforting.  
“Thank you.”     
No one seemed to work Labour Day weekend here, yet gladly this person was. The dial tone changed as the call was patched through the cellular networks. 
“Cherise Dupont”
The phone was quickly answered at the other end. Two words and no fucks given, in the heavily Louisiana accent. She sounded very much like Evve.  
“Are you Saffron’s grandmother? You, live in New Orleans?”
Saffron infrequently talked about her, but from the little she did, they were very close. 
“Oui I am that Cherise Dupont. Saffron, ma fleur violette, wouldn’t have given you this number if it were not vital we speak.”
Blitz nodded to himself, wow Cherise was extremely scary. Like scarier than Saffron appeared to pre-teen shoplifters. 
“My Name is Brian Morgan but most people call me…”
He began
“Blitz”
Cherise interjected 
“There’s been an incident at the Estate, the wellness retreat. They were having a function for the new Loop Mall, though I’m not sure why. Saffron hates it, and Evve has been at all the meetings to stop the Mall as well. They were all brainwashed. Like MK Ultra. They're all okay now though. I hope. I’ve dealt with this once before, and my mates have dealt with it a bunch of times.”   
Blitz tried to stop himself from blathering, it was talk or weep, on the phone to this serious-sounding woman, he’d never met. So he chose to talk. Saffron’s Grandmother was a very busy woman she had a business empire to run. A world to save with ethical non-animal-tested cosmetics, and biofuels. So Blitz tried to keep it uncharacteristically brief and to the point.   
“I’m listening.”
Cherise said curtly, yet somewhat supportively. 
“They were giving out tacky crystal necklaces, not the kind of thing any of you’re family would usually wear. So that made me nervous when I saw Harleen wearing one, acting like a mindless zombie. Then I run into Saffron wearing one. After the zombified people chase us and try to make us join them. There were four fools and a cat that can communicate with your brain, unfortunately, it wanted more than tasty fish. Saffron, she can fight it better. At least a part of her knew what was going on because she was in the music room. Where we could create a resonance frequency high enough to shatter crystals and bring the zombified folk around.”
Blitz sat on his bed in the back bedroom of the Bus, trying not to collapse backwards into the mattress.  
“Un chat”
Cerise repeated no sign of disbelief in her monotone voice 
“You did the right thing. How do you suggest I help?”     
Blitz let out a sigh of relief. 
“Saffron isn't safe with those Loop Ricksynergy chuckle fucks running around the estate. She can’t even lock herself in The Bat Roost. I assume the stone would be thick enough to counteract resonance waves. I need you to get Harleen and Evve to realise how serious this is, and sever all ties with those Ricksynergy assholes and mad scientists at the Loop, or you’re going to have to take Saffron home with you, for … for .. ever .” 
Blitz stuttered, paused and began to cry. 
“It’s laudable that you care about ma famille, I hope, I don’t have to take Saffron away. She does like it there, her boathouse, her job with you. We both know she likes her own mind, her own free will more.”  
Blitz sniffed somewhat pathetically and Brutus dragged over a box of tissues and made a cute face. Blitz tickled his ear with his none phone holding hand. Letting the mess of eyeliner stay on his face. 
“Please if there is anything you can do. I wish Saffron could have made this call, but she can’t remember much if anything at all. I’ve no idea how to begin to help her resist this. She’s the intelligent one, she can fix anything, if me the lads and Kylie are going to make it through this we’re going to need Saffron.” 
Blitz sounded humble, at his lowest. 
“When I arrive I will page you if I require your assistance. Until then you get some rest.”
That was odd he hadn’t given Cherise his pager number.   
“Thank you for listening.”    
He almost stuttered
“Sault”
Many miles from Wilton in the living room of a vast mansion a woman with a mane of hair like Evve Dupont’s, yet as Saffron might say factory black, in colour, and a little shorter. Who bore an uncanny resemblance to Cher hung up the large ultra-modern mobile phone. Cherise appeared to be more Evve’s Sister than Mother age-wise. Clearly running a cosmetics company that had a top-secret anti-ageing formula was very good for you. 
“Pardon, Mon Amour. I just had a most perturbing call from Wilton. I need to drive up there right now.”
Cherise seemed to speak to the house, to the shadows, as the open fire crackled. There was no one else there. Yet there was cognac on a silver serving Salva for two.  
“I’ll try and make it up to you, I promise. They come first. You know that.” 
Cherise threw on a leather jacket over the short black lace dress she wore. At her feet, in the half-light of the hallway, a packed suitcase stood, with her keys already on the hall table. Her houseguest could be so considerate. Not at all as the church-going populus would see them. 
“If I can get this sorted. I want to see you for Thanksgiving.”
The fire in the living room went out. Cherise could hear a voice as if a whisper on the wind that said, Ma dulcinée I will try. Cherise exited the original Dupont Estate deep in the heart of the Louisiana Bayou, baggage in hand. To find a sleek low French sports car awaiting her. Not in the car house. Cherise flicked her wrist with a practised poise and all the lights of candles were snuffed out and electric lights went out. The main doors closed and bolted themselves. The Lady of the Manor drove along the main paved driveway and the grand wrought iron gates opened before her, a sigh further along the main road read Now leaving Dupont Parish, Orleans Parish 25 miles.