“Listen,” Emma said, “I understand it seems that way but there’s no reason to do anything dangerous—”
“No reason! No reason! That’s right! No reason!” The bum resumed his swaying, but his eyes stayed fixed on Dylan and Emma.
Dylan put a hand on Emma’s shoulder. “Just spend the day on this corner, man. Don’t do anything crazy.”
“I thought I’d run into traffic,” the man said, as calmly as if he were saying, “I thought I’d check the mail.”
“Oookay. That’s a big negative,” Emma said. “Trust us, that won’t end well for you.”
“No. It won’t end well at all,” the man said. “No change. No change.”
This is probably enough conversation, Dylan thought.
“How did you get like this?” Emma asked.
Dylan thought of the emoji of the man with his face in his hand. That’s how he felt at that moment. “Emma!” he whispered. “That’s enough!”
“Oh, it’s always the same answer. Always the same questions.”
“What does that mean?” Emma asked.
“I wait and I wait but the door is never there,” the man said.
Dylan felt a chill run down his spine. “The door?” he asked. “What door?”
“The only door that matters. I had it long ago, but no do’ no mo’.” The man giggled as he rocked, until the giggles turned to sobs. They waited until the man was finally quiet, though the rocking continued.
“Do you mean the door to the store?” Emma asked. “The pharmacy?”
“Always the store. Always the door. But it’s wrong! The wrong door!”
“Emma,” Dylan said, “I don’t think he knows what you’re talking about.”
“You hear him as well as I do,” she said. “He knows something.”
“Or we’re just leading him with our questions. We should go.”
She thought for a minute. “Fine,” she said. “I’m very sorry, sir. I wish we had the answer to your problems, but we don’t. Please be safe.”
The man didn’t respond. He put his head back in his hands. Dylan and Emma walked back around the corner.
“Hey there, lovebirds,” Roland called.
Dylan waved and smiled. He whispered in Emma’s ear. “Let’s just reset this place. I’ve got a weird vibe.”
She nodded agreement. They walked back inside and closed the door.
“Let’s go the other direction this time,” Emma said. She reached for the doorknob and pulled the door open. “I think if we head far enough up the—” Her words cut off as she screamed.
The bum was standing right in front of the door. “Never any change,” he said.
Chapter Ten
Jim went home to Liz, just as Detective Magen had encouraged him to do. He didn’t love her sympathetic looks, but he didn’t resent her for them. This whole thing was a lot for everyone to take in. The fact that he refused to bring her around the store made his story a harder sell, that was certain.
He knew she did believe him though. She trusted that he was telling the truth about his experiences with Magen, and for that he was grateful. He knew she was afraid for him. She had told him so multiple times.
“I’m scared on many levels,” she’d said. “Scared you’re going to get hurt, scared you’ll end up like this missing friend of yours…”
She didn’t say that she was scared he might not be in his right mind, but he knew that fear was still present, despite what he’d shown her and Magen’s endorsement.
After chatting with Liz to bring her up to speed about the investigation, Jim ran upstairs and took a shower. He took off all his clothes but allowed the steam to build up before he got in. Once he had cleaned himself thoroughly, he stood a long time under the hot water, feeling the dust of the magical, terrible room wash away.
There was a knock at the door. “Come in!” Jim called.
“Hi baby,” Liz said as she entered. She was naked, and, he thought, sexier than he’d ever seen her. “I thought you might want some company.”
“You thought right,” he said. He was tired, and scared, but the sight of his wife captured his attention and he went along willingly. It was a relief to let that hidden, primitive part of him come out and let his overworked frontal lobe take a deserved break.
They had never been particularly well matched for shower sex, much to their mutual dismay, but they managed to take care of each other’s needs just the same. After, they lay together on the still-made bed. Liz curled herself into his right arm, and he stroked her hair with his free hand.
“I love you,” she said. “And I’m so sorry for what’s happening.”
“I love you too,” he said. “I know you wanted me to steer clear of that place, but I had to do my part to help Clyde.”
“And what now?”
“Now? Magen’s going to do his part. There’s nothing more I can do at this point. And if this doesn’t get resolved by the end of the full moon… I don’t know.”
“Can you accept life like it is? If you have to?”
He shook his head. “I won’t let it ruin my life, but I’ll never accept that a world without Clyde is the right world. Something happened and until I understand it there will always be that question.”
She sighed. “I wish I could argue with you, but I keep thinking how it would be if I were in your shoes.”
“Kinda hard to imagine, right?”
“It is. But I get the idea, and I know it must be killing you.”
A knock at the door interrupted them.
“Probably UPS,” Jim said.
The doorbell rang, followed by another firm knock.
“UPS is pretty needy,” Liz said.
“I’ll handle it. Maybe they need a signature.” He got out of bed and pulled on his boxers and jeans. “I never really understood all of that,” he said as he dressed. “It’s not like our neighbors want to steal our daily Amazon packages. One of these days we need to sign up for an account. I heard we can just waive the signature.”
He threw on a white undershirt from the top of his drawer and went downstairs. He peeked through the peephole in the front door. A tall, thin man with a serious, gaunt face was on the other side. He wore a brown trench coat and a fedora, also the same light shade of brown.
Jim unlocked the door and opened it far enough to stick his head out. “Can I help you?”
“Mr. Hamilton,” the man said.
“Yes?”
The tall man held out a leather wallet with an identification card inside. “I’m with the Central Intelligence Agency. May I come in?”
Jim looked at the ID. He had no idea what a genuine CIA identification would look like. The card stated the man’s name was Donald Stevens.
“Mr. Stevens, is it?” Jim asked. “What’s this about? My wife and I have had a very challenging day.”
“Mr. Hamilton, I’m fairly certain you know what this is about. I simply need to talk to you for a few minutes.”
“I’ll tell you what, you tell me what we’re both talking about and I’ll let you in. Because I’m not foolish enough to just tell you exactly what I’m thinking so you can say ‘of course, that’s it.’ I wasn’t born yesterday. Tell me what you’re referring to or you can get a warrant.”
“Mr. Hamilton, at my level of clearance I don’t need to go through the process of obtaining a warrant. If necessary I will have you forcibly detained. I would simply like to discuss the matter of the store on Butler Avenue. Now may I come in?”
Jim sat on the couch listening to Agent Stevens, who faced him in a chair on the other side of the coffee table. Liz waited in the kitchen, where Jim had asked her to stay while he ironed out whatever the man wanted with him.
“We understand that you’ve been in and around a very sensitive site on Butler Avenue. Would you like to tell me what you were doing there?”
Jim didn’t respond at first. What could he say? How much did this man know and what would he believe? He had taken an enormous
risk going to the police with such insane claims, and this was a whole different level. Then again, Stevens had come to him, and he knew about the store.
“I was there to investigate a potential property,” Jim said. “My partner and I. We didn’t mean to find the store and my inclination was to leave it alone. Clearly my partner… he didn’t feel the same way.”
“Your partner used the store?” Stevens asked. His tone sounded curious but his face carried no expression.
“Used the store?” Jim asked. “I don’t understand.”
“Used it. Entered the bubble.”
“I’m really sorry. I don’t know what you’re saying.”
Stevens grunted. “You said your partner didn’t feel the same way about leaving the store alone. What did you mean?”
“I just meant that he wanted to keep exploring. I wanted to go home. I was a little freaked out by the whole thing. I’m guessing if you know about it then you understand.” He waited for a nod or some kind of acknowledgment from Stevens, but there was none. “I think my partner…Clyde…he went back to the store. But ‘used it’… I don’t understand that.”
Stevens studied him. Jim assumed the man was adept at identifying liars, and Jim was glad that in this case he was being truly genuine in his explanation.
“You didn’t close the door?” Stevens asked.
“Not from the inside. No.”
“All right. Good.” Stevens got up from the chair. “We’re done here, Mr. Hamilton. Consider the matter closed. Follow your good judgment and steer clear of that store. Do that and you’ll never hear from me again.”
“Wait!” Jim said as he rose from the couch. “What about my partner?”
“I’m going to ask you to excuse me,” Stevens said. “My colleagues tell me I’m not the best when it comes to being sympathetic. Having said that, while I understand your loss and your struggle to understand what exactly happened, I have to make sure you get that your partner is not coming back.”
“There’s got to be something you can do!” Jim said.
“Believe me, we’ve tried,” Stevens said. “Nobody who uses the store ever comes back.”
“What does that mean?” Jim asked. His voice was rising in both volume and pitch, and a smaller voice at the back of his mind cautioned him to not lose his cool with his guest.
“I can’t say any more. I’m sorry.” Stevens moved briskly to the door. He turned back as he took hold of the handle. “Don’t go near that store again, Mr. Hamilton.”
With that, he was gone.
Jim slumped back down on his couch, defeated. Liz came in with a cup of coffee. She set the mug down on the table at the side of the couch and put her arms around Jim’s shoulders. “I’m sorry, baby,” she said. “I don’t understand any of this, but I know how hard it must be. I wish there was some way to make it better.”
Jim struggled to come up with a response but nothing seemed to make sense anymore. His phone buzzed and he ignored it until the sound faded away. He sat in silence, with Liz holding onto him as if he might slip away. The phone buzzed again.
“Do you want to get that?” Liz asked.
Moving slowly, Jim pulled the phone out of his pocket. Detective Magen’s name was on the caller id. Jim pressed the button to answer and held the phone to his ear. “Hello?”
“I’m going to guess from your tone you had a visit similar to the one I just experienced,” Magen said.
“I guess so,” Jim said. “I think they just want to make sure we don’t know anything. Which we don’t.”
“Well…” Magen replied. “Why don’t we get together and swap stories?”
“There’s just no point,” Jim said. “There’s nothing we can do.”
“Just meet with me. Hear me out.”
“What is it?” Liz asked.
Jim muted the phone. “It’s Magen. I think someone talked to him too but he wants to meet with me.”
“Just go,” Liz said. “Maybe he’s got something.”
“But Stevens said—”
“Go. Some hope is better than no hope at all.”
Jim unmuted the call. “Okay. Let’s meet.”
They met in Magen’s office at the police station. Jim looked around. The accommodations weren’t much but they were nicer than the interrogation room where he and the detective had first met.
“Why didn’t you bring me in here the first time we talked?” he asked.
Magen smiled. “I didn’t know you. I don’t just bring any random person into the office. Tell me about the person who came to see you.”
“He’s CIA. His name’s Stevens. Took him a while to get a read on me but I think he eventually realized I know nothing about what happened to Clyde in the store. He told me in no uncertain terms to stay away. That’s it.”
“Huh. Yeah, similar thing happened to me. Agent Murphy. Lovely fellow. I didn’t tell him anything about our observations about the door, did you?”
“No,” Jim said. “I didn’t really tell him anything. I kinda hoped he would tell me something about how to get Clyde back, but there was nothing. He said it isn’t possible.”
“Well, listen, that may be true, but we don’t know that. What I do know is that I got a call back from my friend at the FBI. Every time he came close to something that would involve that particular location, he bumped into the highest level of classified documents. Tip top clearance level stuff.”
“So what does that mean?”
“It means something happened thirty years ago at that store. Something related to whatever Dr. Mike was up to. And whatever he unleashed, the CIA got involved and made the whole thing disappear. Helped, of course, by the fact that the store itself found a neat way to disappear.”
“So they’re trying to protect against whatever happened to Clyde?”
Magen shrugged. “I’d imagine that’s part of it. Just seems like it’s the kind of thing they don’t want anyone asking questions about. They simply dead-ended the records. Let people fill in the blanks and assume a fire or an explosion. Whatever it is, the store is gone and the world moved on. At least for those of us who haven’t seen what you and I have seen.”
“What now? Stevens was very clear that the agency doesn’t want us involved with the store.”
“As was Murphy. And I’d be okay with that if they were handling this and fixing the problem. But they aren’t interested in doing that, and that’s where I feel like I’m getting kicked in the balls. This is my town, my jurisdiction, and a man went missing on a goddamn block of a main street in my town. If the CIA won’t do anything about it, then I think it falls to me.”
“We need to get to that store,” Jim said. “Stevens kept asking if I’d ‘used’ it. I want to know what that means. It’s something to do with the door.”
“Hmm. I thought our whole policy was to leave the door alone.”
“It was. But I don’t think we have much more time before the store is going to disappear, and studying it isn’t getting us anywhere.”
“Okay. Let’s take my car down to the store. Less likely to raise the suspicions of any agents still snooping around. Though let’s be clear: they are likely going to find out we’re doing this. Are you okay with that risk?”
“Not at all,” Jim said. “But I don’t know what else to do. If I just stand by, if Clyde is lost forever, then I feel like I let him die. I couldn’t live with myself.”
It was evening when they arrived at the invisible store. The moon seemed less full, and Jim knew that time was running out. He wasn’t positive the store would appear when he did his trick with the camera in his iPhone, but it did.
Back inside the store, Jim paced nervously while Magen did yet another scan of every wall, every shelf, and every inch of the floor.
“Is all this necessary?” Jim asked.
“Maybe not. I want to be one hundred percent certain the answers we seek aren’t hiding in plain sight. I want that before we close the door that we agree should probably not b
e closed. Does that make sense to you?”
“It does. I just…I don’t know. I think I just want to get this over with. Whatever it’s going to turn out to be.”
“Night is falling, and this is our last night in this store,” Magen said. “It all comes down to what happens here.”
Jim leaned against the counter and tried to distract himself with a puzzle app on his phone. Two weeks earlier he had loaded a picture of himself and Liz from the day they announced their pregnancy. The app split it into two hundred and fifty pieces, and in his spare time he had been piecing it back together. He had completed the frame and maybe half the interior. Enough to see their smiling faces. Clyde had been in the room when that photo had been taken, celebrating the exciting news and smiling like a fool. Where are you now? Jim wondered. Are you smiling wherever you are?
“Okay,” Magen said, “I’m done here.”
“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” Jim asked.
“Mmhmm. Ready as I’ll ever be,” Magen said. His voice sounded steady and calm, but Jim saw the man’s hand brush against the butt of his department-issued firearm. It was the detective sending a little reminder to himself that the gun was there, just in case.
“Do you want to do this, or should I?” Jim asked.
“I’ll do it. Do me a favor, will you? Get a video of this. Just for research purposes. I want to keep a file on this fucking thing, whether those spooks want me on this case or not.”
“Okay, got it.” Jim flipped from the puzzle app to the camera. He started the video and focused the lens on Magen, who was standing by the door.
“All right. I’m Detective Magen. Investigating the disappearance of Clyde Dawson. We believe that Mr. Dawson entered this store at 110 Butler Avenue and closed the door from the interior, as I am about to do.”
Magen paused, as if gathering up the strength to do what needed to be done. Jim felt a chill and an urge to stop the whole thing, but he kept himself quiet. He focused on the camera and the crystal-clear image it presented of the store in front of him.
“I will now close the door,” Magen said. His voice wavered slightly. Jim watched as Magen took hold of the knob and pushed the door closed. In the silence, the sound of the latch catching seemed as loud and sudden as an old, dry branch cracking in half.
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