The carriage kept on rolling down the mud track. It left the already remote small town to arrive at an even more abandoned countryside. It was by then late afternoon. The setting sun dyed the sky red. Night would soon arrive as evidenced by the birds returning to their nests. With a yip from the old man, the brown horses stopped. The inertia caused some of the bale to drop. “Mr. Gu, you can come out now.” The man introduced, “Welcome to my farm. I’m alone here, unless you count the animals.” A few dogs came forward to greet their guest with cheerful barks.
“Thank you, Mr. Joyce.” Gu Jun crawled out from the cart. His eyes scanned the surroundings carefully. This was not a big farm. It was practically just a yard converted into one. A fence was placed around a 2 story building and the space contained a wooden shed, stable and chicken coop. It permeated the air with a stale barnyard smell. However, the place was still quite large for a single old man to manage on his own.
“I was not the only one here.” Mr. Joyce appeared to notice the question on Gu Jun’s face and he explained in the same open tone, “There were my wife and my son but they have both passed away. My son got into an accident and my wife died from the loss.”
Gu Jun frowned. “I’m so sorry.” The pain was clear underneath the frankness of Mr. Joyce’s tone. The old man moved the bales and worked for a while before heading into the house. “Time for dinner. How does some fried eggs and bread sound?”
“Wonderful.” Gu Jun was starving. His stomach rumbled at the sound of food. He only had a simple breakfast that ‘day’. He traversed from Eastern State Division to the oak forest, then to the wasteland and now he was here. He was both physically and mentally drained. He followed the old man into the house. Even though Massachusetts was already quite developed in the 1929, that was only limited to bigger cities. At smaller towns like Chickasaw, the footsteps of technology had not arrived. Mr. Joyce’s home was simple and sparse. There was no electronics like television or phone.
“My son,” Mr. Joyce began as if to himself, “Jack was a wonderful young man. He died at 26. He perished near Innsmouth. He went there searching for a better work opportunity but on the way there, he ran into an accident. A carriage-pulling horse was spooked. The tragedy injured several people and Jack was one of them. He was especially unlucky because the horse trampled on his chest in its panic and he died on the spot.”
Gu Jun was silent. He followed the old man into the kitchen and noted basic appliances like gas burners.
“Such accidents are common at Innsmouth.” Mr. Joyce continued, “The place is home to a coterie of strange incidents. Chickasaw is already backwards enough but Innsmouth is even more secluded. It’s an old port city. According to legends, it was a metropolis 100 years ago but now it is practically a ghost town. No train passes by the place and if you want to head there, you have to pass through Arkham first.” Mr. Joyce sighed, “My poor Jack. His mind was always on the gold. He thought he could repurpose the abandoned houses at Innsmouth but instead lost his life on the way there.”
“Does the place still have many people living there?” Gu Jun asked.
“Not many lives there now.” Mr. Joyce cracked some eggs to prepare the omelette. “There are some fishermen who have lived there for generations and there is still a gold forging factory. With gentrification, only the older generation will remain at such an obsolete location but strangely enough, you will never see a senior at Innsmouth. Its citizens are all young people in their prime. It was as if the citizen will automatically move away once they pass a certain age.”
Gu Jun contemplated silently. ‘Move away? To where?’
“The people of Innsmouth are strange and secluded.” The eggs fizzled on the stove. Mr. Joyce flipped them over. “Cities around Innsmouth have many legends about the place but of course, most of them are probably just malicious rumours. It’s due to the fact that Innsmouth has a different religious belief than we do… And we’re always prejudiced against those different than us. Actually, Mr. Gu, that is why I’ve invited you here. I have a few questions related to this and perhaps you’ll be able to provide me with clarification.”
“Please.” Gu Jun nodded. “I’ll try my best to answer.”
Mr. Joyce turned to look at him before pulling his flushed face down. “One of the legends states that the people at Innsmouth worship demons. They perform many sacrificial rituals for their demonic deity. I have my suspicion that my Jack’s death is not that simple. I suspect that he made a sacrifice to the demon.”
Gu Jun felt a trace of hostility under the old man’s line of questioning…
“The deity that the Innsmouth citizens worship is apparently named Dagon.” The old man continued, “It’s a deity that originated from a religion brought over by Oriental sailors.”
When he heard the name Dagon, Gu Jun’s headache returned, but many questions cleared in his mind. Dagon, of course… The power the Seagull was searching for. If the people of Innsmouth worship Dagon, then they could transmute into the Deep Ones… that would explain why the average age of Innsmouth citizens was maintained at teenhood.
‘But an Oriental origin?’ That explained why those men were so eager to chase him away. It provided a context to their behavior…
“Mr. Gu, I wish to ask you.” Mr. Joyce’s voice darkened. “How much do you know about this religion of Dagon?”
Gu Jun did not know how to answer. He did know a little about Dagon but not because he was Oriental. Innsmouth existed in this world, a fact that was not true for the Earth that he departed from, so none of his conventional geographical knowledge could be used. He was not even sure that Oriental in this world referred to China…
Meeting the old man’s eyes, Gu Jun knew that this was not a question that he could skip over with a lie. Regardless, he needed more information. He knew how lucky he was to run into a gentleman who did not greet him with a gun to the head at a place where hostility against easterners was strong and accepted.
“Mr. Joyce, I do not worship Dagon.” Gu Jun began with sincerity and severity. “To be honest, the worshippers of Dagon are my enemy.”
“So you do know things about that religion?” Mr. Joyce began to get excited. His white beard trembled.
“On the ship coming to this country, I fought with a few Dagon worshippers.” Gu Jun continued, “Sir, I can assure you that in my hometown, people hate the Dagon worshippers too. They are an evil cult. But strangely enough, according to them, they were a religion that was based in the western civilization. But now it appears like we have all been fooled. If you ask me, the religion probably comes from the depth of hells itself. Mr. Joyce, I am sorry to say this but I do think your son’s death is highly suspicious.”
“I knew it…” Mr. Joyce gritted his teeth. His face flushed from anger and his eyes watered. “The coroner could not find Jack’s heart and they told me it was because it was trampled into pieces by the horse. But I have dealt with animals in my entire life. I know a horse injury when I see one…”
Gu Jun sighed as he was reminded of Tian Yi and Xie Yiman. He wouldn’t put this ‘accident’ past the cultists. They had no bottom line.
“I knew it…” The old man mumbled. “This explains why two years ago, many people at Innsmouth were captured by the federal police and many old houses that lined the shore were burnt down.”