The Silhouette (Alan Quinn and the Second Lifes)

by Thomas William Shaw

The back door slid open about twenty minutes later. The sky had grown dark and it was still raining. Peaches walked in first with her big tongue hanging outside of her mouth. The silvery glaze in her eyes had disappeared. The next one in was Dad but he looked more like he was sleepwalking. Lathon in his solid form was close behind. All three appeared to be drenched.

  Lathon closed the door and moved his hands in the direction of Dad who promptly fell face forward on to the couch and into my lap. Conscious of the wet puddle that was dripping off of me and on to the floor, I pushed him aside and on to his back and stood up.

 

  “Well, how did it go?” I said.

  Lathon mimed like he was cracking his knuckles, “Went off like a charm. We made it about halfway down the street before he dozed off. The stone dims in brightness as it consumes memories and as you can see,” he summoned the stone, which flew out of Dad’s pocket and into his hand, “This stone is full.”

  It was pitch black. It was startling to think how we had robbed my dad of what was probably his childhood. I knew it was necessary but that didn’t mean I felt good about it.

  “What now?”

  Lathon said, “Well, I have to take this back to LeCarre. If Reese survives we can all go home and it will all be over.”

  My heart ached, “You still think there is a chance he may not survive?”

  Lathon realized how this was affecting me, “A teensy one. That is good news, right? I could always say it was going to be a big chance.”

  The boards creaked with my mother’s footsteps. Upon hearing Mom traveling down the stairs, Lathon slid out the back door and flew off to see LeCarre.

  Mom had put on a pair of old jeans and a white t-shirt. She gave me a strange look like I had a second head growing out of my neck. She said, “What was all of that noise?”

  “What noise?”

  “I heard more than one—voice,” she said as she spotted Dad’s body on the couch. She tried to shake him awake, “What? Why? What happened?”

  I was dried up for words. I said, “I don’t know. He came back with Peaches and dozed off on the couch. I think he is just sleeping.”

  She held her hand up against Dad’s neck, “He isn’t breathing. There isn’t a pulse! Reese? REESE?”

  I stepped back. I didn’t want to be responsible for killing my father. Lathon had said there was only a small chance he wouldn’t survive. That was not a scenario that had played in my head at all. I fell apart when my mom began to cry.

  “I need you, Reese,” she said. She punched him in the chest, “You can’t run away from me again. Wake up! Damn it, wake up!”

  He still didn’t move. Mom and I were more alone now than we had ever been. Had I done the right thing? I didn’t know anymore. I wished the police would come and take me away. I had murdered my father. I would be the cause of years of torment for my mother. Blood was on my hands.

  Dad let out a loud gasp and all of the air had been sucked out of the room. He was alive. Mom said, “Reese!” and wrapped her arms around him.

  He quickly pushed her arms away and leapt off of the couch. Peaches who had been heating herself up by the fire growled at him like he was a stranger that had entered into her sacred territory.

  Dad had a wild fury in his eyes, “Where is he?”

  “Who?” Mom responded dumbfounded. She was still shaken from Dad hitting her arms away. “Who is he?”

  “Davison. He was supposed to be here.”

  I was even starting to get confused, “Where is here?”

  “Alan, stop,” Mom said, but she looked to Dad to answer to Dad to answer anyway.

  Dad looked around at the room, “I-I do not know.” He fell to his knees and placed both of his hands against his head, “I do not know where this is. It is supposed to be the park. I was supposed to introduce him to Darius at the park.”

  His memory was scrambled, but I didn’t want him to continue. He was saying too much. He was going to tell Mom that I had murdered Darius, or something equally bad and wrong.

  “Darius?” Mom said. “Why were you supposed to meet Darius tonight? You have been gone for enough time as it is.”

  Dad looked at her like she was out of her mind. “What the hell are you talking about? I have been here forever. You never let me leave!”

  Mom eyed me, hoping she would get an answer, “Reese, I think you are going to want to lie back down.”

  “Who are you?”

  “Who am I?” Mom said.

  Dad brushed me off as just some random teenager in the room. He said, “It is a fair question. Do you work for Davison too? Are you his secretary?”

  Mom got in his face, “Have you been doing drugs all this time? Is that why you wanted to spend time with Davison and your other little friends?”

  Dad walked around her, “You are a little rude. Davison should fire you if he ever gets the chance.”

  He hunched over to me, “Do you know where Davison is? Darius should be here any second now, and he is a very impatient person.”

  Mom looked at me for some clarity. Upon finding I had nothing to add, she grabbed Dad’s arm to help him sit. He tried to slip it out of her grip, but she insisted, “Uh, Davison wouldn’t like his guests to get restless while they wait for his arrival.”

  Dad nodded and relaxed his efforts. He said, “Valid point. I will wait,” and sat down on his own.

  Mom was wrecked worse than before. Tears streamed down her cheeks.

  “Are you crying? My Lord, woman, it is only a brief meeting and then you can get back to your house chores,” Dad said. He looked at Mom for a moment, “Do you plan to get me a beverage or am I going to remain parched of thirst?”

  Mom wiped her face with her sleeve. She stomped off to the kitchen, saying, “Alan, I think I’ve lost my appetite. Would you mind if I threw the vegetables out?”

  Dad perked up, “Did she say your name was Alan?”

  “Yes,” I said, “Who do you think you are?”

  “That is not important right now. You are the boy Darius had been talking about. You have to be.”

  His memory had pulled the events leading up to Darius’ death. Had Lathon planned it this way? I wondered why he couldn’t remember who either Mom or I were. It didn’t help that he was looking at me like a prized hen.

  “He said a boy named Alan was the important piece of the puzzle. You were going to spark the revolution.”

  I decided to play along, “What revolution?”

  “The Si—well, I guess I cannot remember what he called them. These things that—no, that is not it either,” he scratched his head, “What was it they did? I do not know. Anyways, they have a revolution going on and you are the center.”

  I shook my head, “Wrong Alan. There is an Alan Walters in Dahlgreen.”

  “In that case,” he said, “You can call me Adolphus Fletch. What is yours?”

  “Alan Quinn. Adolphus Fletch? How did you pull that name out of a hat?”

  I took a seat on the recliner to the right of the couch. Had his mind been wiped so clean that he had become a different person? It was all so terribly wrong. Adolphus Fletch sounded like some kind of name that only could have come from Lathon’s world. I knew one thing: it was no longer safe to keep him in the house. Even when he was calm, I could tell a cold anger hid behind his eyes. Worse was that Dad no longer seemed to know why he was angry in the first place.

  He responded, “How would you feel if you were insulted for something out of your control? Naturally, the name was given to me when I was an infant. We do not get to choose our names, Quinn. Are you sure you are not the Alan that Darius is looking for? You certainly have the same speech rhythms he described.”

  I crossed my arms, “Just a big misunderstanding. You said before that you thought you were at the park?”

  “Parks? Houses? Who is counting? Darius has a habit of getting me turned around.”

  “What does he think of h
aving a friend named Adolphus Fletch?”

  Adolphus squinted his eyes at me like an old drunk, “If I did not know better, and quite frankly I know very little about you, I would say that you were mocking me. I will have you know, Alan, I do not care to be mocked. It is not very nice.”

  It was like night and day or hot and cold. The man that was my father was nowhere inside. This Adolphus or whoever he was pretending to be was a complete idiot. I almost wished for the imminent doom of the universe if it meant that I would get my dad back. I thought if I could knock him out again that he would make the switch.

  I looked around the area for a large object when I caught sight of the lamp. I placed my hands on it like I was trying to fix it. I said, “Well, I don’t think Darius is going to show up, Mr. Fletch. Would you care to stay the night until the morning?”

  “I will wait just a few moments longer. He is never late for his appointments and that Davison seemed to have very important business. I am not a fan of anyone who does not hold on to their prior engagements.”

  “Ok,” I said and ripped the lamp off of the table and smashed him over the head with it as hard as I could and dropped the lamp by his side. Mom ran out of the kitchen to find the origin of the noise.

  “What are you doing?” she said.

  “I don’t know. He just passed out. He wasn’t acting like himself,” I said.

  Dad, or Adolphus, landed on top of the coffee table face first.

  Mom was a second away from another major breakdown. I doubted she could take any more festivities. I walked up to her and held her hands, “Mom, he was becoming dangerous. He told me his name was Adolphus Fletch of all things.”

  She tilted her head, “He did? That was the name of—never mind.” She released her hands from mine and walked around me to check the status of my father. She said, “Let’s get him into the bedroom.”

  Instead, Mom and I lifted Dad up and started to take him up the stairs. He was heavier than I imagined. I had to bend my knees just to be able to have the power to get him past the first step.

  Mom didn’t have the same trouble. Some kind of sub-human strength rose up in her as she dragged Dad the rest of the way without my assistance. Quickly, she turned the corner with him and went out of sight. I followed them up and ran into their bedroom only to find she had already tucked him under the covers.

  “How did you do that?” I said.

  Immodest, Mom said, “Do what?”

  “Great,” I thought, “Now, Mom has got magical abilities too?”

  I shook my head and waited for her to exit the room. She grabbed a hold of a wooden chair from her makeup counter and followed me out. She closed the door and firmly placed the chair where the back was propped under the doorknob, which would make it impossible to pull open.

  I said, “What are you doing?”

  “I do not remember why, but Adolphus Fletch is not a good name to have, so that takes care of that,” she said. “What’s next?”

  I said, “Wha—”

  She said, “I promise it will all make sense very soon.”

  Mom still appeared slightly worried despite the magnificent feat she just performed. She told me she was going to bed and went back downstairs. I didn’t know what we were going to do when Dad woke up, but I wanted to go to bed too. I had to make a point to see LeCarre at school tomorrow. I had to know more about my father’s condition or Mom’s past.

  Either way, I had to get to sleep and escape the nightmare.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN