Vacancy

by Fredric Shernoff

“Have you been back to Butler Avenue since the last time I brought you there?” Mr. Merchant asked. “You’re not in any trouble! Isn’t that right, Mr. Stevens?”

  “Of course, no trouble at all,” Stevens said, but he didn’t smile.

  “Well, Dyl?” Mrs. Merchant inquired. “Have you been back down there? Maybe with Emma?”

  “No.”

  “Very well,” Stevens said. “I’d like to ask you about your first trip down there…nearly a month ago, wasn’t it?”

  “How do you know that?” Dylan asked.

  “That particular block you visited is of special interest to us. We keep tabs on who comes and goes.”

  “What’s so interesting about it?” Dylan questioned. “It’s just a couple stores and an alley.”

  “I believe you know why we are interested in it,” Stevens said.

  “Dylan, do you know what he’s talking about?” Mr. Merchant asked.

  “No. Emma and I went down to those stores. We shopped a little and then we got picked up. That’s all. We were barely there.”

  Stevens nodded. “That’s true. You didn’t spend much time there at all.”

  “What’s the big deal then?” Dylan demanded.

  “Honey, please be respectful,” Mrs. Merchant said.

  “The ‘big deal’ is what we saw on our surveillance footage of the block,” Stevens said. He leaned toward Dylan and his voice dropped to just above a whisper. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like to discuss this privately?”

  Dylan debated whether he should take the man up on his offer. Stevens knew something, and maybe that was something he wouldn’t want his parents to hear. Maybe something that could impact his ability to spend time with Emma, or who knew what else? But at the same time…he didn’t trust this Stevens guy. He appeared to be from the FBI or CIA or some kind of government thing. Maybe Department of Homeland Security? It didn’t really matter. Dylan had a deeply rooted distrust of any type of law enforcement, and the alarms in his head were all ringing full blast.

  “Just say whatever you have to say with my parents here. I have nothing to hide.” He hoped that was true.

  “Very well. Our footage shows you and your friend arriving at the scene. You enter the clothing store next to the alleyway. You come out of the store twenty minutes later. A second later, you are lying in the alley.”

  “I’m sorry,” Mr. Merchant said. “Lying in the alley?”

  “Yes,” Stevens said. “Then you both get up, and enter the comic book store on the other side. You come out of there a while later, get picked up, and depart the scene. Does that sound right to you?”

  “No,” Dylan said. He heard the nerves in his voice. “I didn’t jump into the alley. I walked from one store to the next.”

  Now Stevens cracked the slightest hint of a smile. Dylan didn’t like that smile at all. “Dylan,” the man said, “the footage is absolutely conclusive. It just took us a little while to identify who was in the scene. You and your friend move from standing in the street to lying in the alley. Instantly.”

  “Doesn’t this sound like a bunch of bullshit to anyone else?” Dylan asked.

  “Dylan!” his father said. “Settle down. I’m sure there’s an explanation for this.”

  “No!” Dylan felt all the stress escaping him— the stress that had been bubbling beneath the surface since the store had trapped him and Emma in 1989. “We don’t know who the hell this man is. And his story makes no sense. And even if it did make sense, even if Emma and I ‘jumped’ from one place to the next, what the hell does it matter? We didn’t do anything wrong. It’s a public street.”

  “Are you sure there hasn’t been some kind of confusion?” Mrs. Merchant asked Stevens. “Maybe your footage jumped and lost some time?”

  “No, Ma’am,” Stevens said. “Our footage is time stamped and we have never had any issue before. Young man,” he said, turning his attention back to Dylan, “You are not in trouble. I simply want to know what happened. That alley is a very unusual and very dangerous place. You interacted with it in some way that we’ve never seen before, and I’d like to know about your experience. That’s all. As long as you help me out and promise to never go back there again, you have nothing to worry about.”

  “You can’t tell me not to go to a store. Or walk down a public street, or even into a public alley. I did nothing wrong!”

  “Dylan,” said his mother, “none of this makes any sense, but if you know something please tell Mr. Stevens what it is.”

  Dylan’s mind analyzed all the possible answers he could give. He decided a muddled form of honesty was the best thing he had available to him. “Fine. Here’s what happened: We came out of Helen’s Boutique. Next thing we knew, we were in the alley. We got up, went right into Galaxi’s Collectibles, talked to the guy working there and called to get picked up. I charged my phone a little there too. That’s all. We don’t know what happened to us.”

  “Is that why you wanted to leave so suddenly?” Mr. Merchant asked. “I knew something didn’t look right with you two. You could have told me!”

  “That’s right, you could have talked to us,” Mrs. Merchant added. She turned to Agent Stevens. “Do you know what happened? Were they mugged?”

  “That doesn’t seem likely, Ma’am,” Stevens said. “As I told you, the footage does not skip. Your son and his friend change locations instantly. They didn’t have time to be unconscious.”

  “How is that possible?” Mr. Merchant asked. “There must be some reasonable explanation.”

  “It is possible for the very reason that we guard against anyone visiting that alley,” Stevens said. “I wish I could say more but I’m really not at liberty to divulge anything else about it. I can tell you that there is no reason to believe anything dangerous has happened to your son or his friend.” He looked at Dylan. “It is…possible that they were simply the victims of a freak occurrence. All the more reason to stay away from it. Do you understand what I’m telling you, son?”

  Dylan wanted to continue to fight. The stress and frustration mingled with the panic of being found out was making him confrontational. He opened his mouth to tell Stevens that he was not the man’s son, but he thought of Emma and shut his mouth again. He wanted this over and didn’t want Emma dragged into anything with Stevens and whatever group he worked for. “I get what you’re saying,” he said at last.

  After Stevens left, Dylan sat in uncomfortable silence with his parents. Finally, Mr. Merchant gave an uncomfortable cough and said, “Why didn’t you tell us?”

  “I don’t know, Dad,” Dylan said. “I was scared. I didn’t understand what happened to us and Emma and I agreed to keep it quiet.”

  “I don’t like the idea that your girlfriend is convincing you to keep things from your parents,” Mrs. Merchant said.

  “She isn’t!” Dylan said. “We agreed together! If anything, it’s more me encouraging her to keep quiet. She’s a very good person, so don’t make assumptions about her.”

  “Okay, okay,” his mother said. “I’m sorry, Dyl. This is just all so strange, and as your parents it’s our job to worry about what you do and who you do it with. You’re still under our care and it’s our job and our responsibility to keep you safe. We can only do that if you’re honest with us.”

  “I understand that,” Dylan said. “I don’t blame you for being a little upset. It’s just a kind of thing that I wouldn’t know how to explain to anyone. I haven’t told Matt. I haven’t told anyone at all. Just Emma and I know. And now you guys, and apparently whoever was spying on us.”

  “I believe Mr. Stevens is CIA,” his father said. “And if they are involved, there is something very important going on there. Would have been nice for them to close off that alley if it’s dangerous.”

  “Didn’t he say that Dylan was outside the alley before he ‘jumped’ into it?” Mrs. Merchant asked. “It seems like something is very wrong with that whole block. Maybe they should condemn the whole thing. And I want you to ge
t checked at the doctor, Dylan. I don’t like this at all.”

  “There are really nice people in those stores, Mom,” Dylan said. “And I don’t think anything has happened to any of them. This supernatural stuff sounds insane. Look, I know Stevens was matter-of-fact that the tape didn’t jump, but I think that’s ridiculous. The way Emma and I look at it, the likely answer is one of two possibilities: one, someone attacked us and then, I guess, doctored the footage to hide what they did. Or more likely, two, something weird about that block or that alley, maybe some kind of energy, knocked us out for a little bit, and screwed up the footage at the same time. That’s definitely my theory.”

  Dylan was surprised and a little dismayed to find how easily he could weave a story full of semi-truths. His parents seemed to be buying it. He guessed they were reaching for some kind of explanation.

  “It makes sense,” Mr. Merchant said. “I just hope you know well enough to heed Mr. Stevens’ warnings. Don’t go back there. Maybe there’s something about you or Emma that interacted wrong with whatever is in the ground of that alley. If the government doesn’t see fit to do something about it, the best you can do is look out for yourselves.”

  Just then, Hunter’s cries came through the baby monitor. “Well, the little prince has awoken,” Mr. Merchant said. “Just be safe, Dyl. And honesty from now on.”

  “You got it, Dad,” Dylan said. “Full honesty. And I’ll stay away from the alley.” He felt awful lying to his parents, but he wasn’t actually sure how much he was lying. After all, he had only sort of promised Emma to return to the store, right? They had compromised that they would see if the store was accessible on the next full moon, but he hadn’t said for sure that if it was there he would join her on another trip to 1989, had he? He wasn’t entirely sure. The whole experience had become jumbled with each passing day that they didn’t discuss it.

  Mr. Merchant seemed satisfied, and left the room to retrieve Hunter.

  “I’ll be happy when that little guy is potty trained and can get in and out of a bed by himself,” Mrs. Merchant said. “Though I’m not in a huge rush to grow him up.” She smiled. “It seems like raising teenagers brings its own challenges.”

  “I’m sorry about this, Mom,” Dylan said, sitting down where his dad had been on the couch. “Sorry I didn’t say anything, and sorry I did anything that brought that Stevens guy here to make you two nervous.”

  Mrs. Merchant slid over and put her arm around her son’s shoulders. “It’s okay, baby,” she said. “Even Mr. Stevens doesn’t think you asked for any of that. And I’m sorry for saying what I did about Emma. It’s just that you spend so much time out with her or at her house, we haven’t really gotten a chance to get to know her. She seems like a great girl, and she clearly has excellent taste.”

  “Thanks,” Dylan said. “Maybe we could have her over for dinner soon?”

  “I think that’s a great idea,” his mom replied. “And please encourage her to see a doctor too. I’m making you an appointment today.”

  Dylan invited Emma to come to dinner the next night. It wasn’t until after the invitation had been made and happily accepted that he realized he was bringing her around his parents the very night they were supposed to confirm their plans to return to the store.

  Emma came to dinner wearing a ruffled tank top and jeans. Dylan always found himself admiring her fashion sense. He had only the barest sense of style when it came to his own attire, usually settling for a t-shirt and one of two alternating pairs of khaki shorts, or jeans if he was going out at night. He had confessed his style envy to her one day, when she had observed that he wore her gifts more often than anything else, and she’d told him she’d be happy to take him shopping. “The catch,” she said, “is you have to wear whatever I say.”

  In situations like that, he realized more and more just how much he loved and trusted her. There was probably nothing she could suggest he wear that he would refuse. If she thought it was good, he assumed it probably was, even if he couldn’t see it. His trust had deepened when he had shared with her the threatening visit from Agent Stevens. She had absorbed the information in solemn contemplation and had told him how proud she was of him for standing his ground. He continued to profess his feelings to her every chance he got. “I don’t know how I found somebody like you,” he often said.

  “I feel the same way,” was her constant reply.

  They sat together at the table in his family’s kitchen. His parents sat across from them, and Hunter was off to the side in his highchair. Mrs. Merchant had offered to send Hunter to Dylan’s grandparents’ for the evening, but when Dylan suggested it to Emma she had insisted on spending time with “the little bugger.”

  “So, Emma,” Mrs. Merchant said as she served spaghetti, “I hope you don’t mind that I didn’t cook anything fancy. Dylan just loves his pasta.”

  “Oh, I know,” she said, “and this is awesome. You don’t have to do anything special for me.”

  “I don’t know if that’s true,” Mr. Merchant said. “You’ve certainly had a major positive impact on our son.”

  “Dad,” Dylan started, but Mr. Merchant waved him off.

  “I mean it. Dylan used to be so reserved, but spending time with you, it’s almost like some heavy weight has been taken off his shoulders. As a parent, it’s really wonderful to see.”

  “Well, I’m really glad to hear that,” Emma said. “Your son has made me very happy.”

  “So you’ve had to move around a lot for your dad’s work?” Mrs. Merchant asked.

  “Yeah,” Emma said. “It hasn’t been great. My dad thinks this location may be permanent though, or at the very least long enough to get me through high school. It’s kind of hard to remember that I have to start up at a new school. I’m so used to living here and just spending time with Dylan.”

  “It’s so nice that you two will have each other,” Mrs. Merchant said. “Dylan doesn’t have a whole lot of close friends.”

  “God, Mom,” Dylan laughed. “You make me sound like I have a social disorder.”

  “And yet I love you anyway,” Emma said, snuggling against his arm.

  “Love,” said Hunter.

  “Yeah, bud,” Dylan said. “Love.”

  After dinner, Dylan and Emma sat out back on the patio drinking tall glasses of fresh lemonade that Mrs. Merchant had prepared for them.

  “Your family is really awesome,” Emma said.

  “They do have their positives,” Dylan admitted. “I hope one of these days I can spend time with your parents. I’ve waved to them three times now and I’m kinda sure they think you’re dating a mime.”

  “The vocally challenged need love too,” she said.

  Dylan laughed. He stared into the peaceful darkness of the yard. Crickets chirped in a clear night sky. Life was so good. He hated that they had to risk messing with that.

  “Penny for your thoughts, handsome,” Emma said.

  “Eh…nothing, really. Or maybe it’s everything.”

  “Well that’s complicated.”

  “Yeah. I just…I know that what we’ve got is something really good. But I worry that on all sides we have things threatening to chip away at us. We’ve got school, and eventually college. And that’s just the normal stuff. I haven’t forgotten that we’re supposed to start planning the return to Maverick’s. I know in so many ways that fucking store brought us together, but now I just want it to leave us alone.”

  “Do you hear yourself?” Emma asked.

  “Yeah…”

  “No, I mean, do you really hear what you’re doing?”

  “I don’t know, what am I doing?”

  “To me, it sounds like you’re determined to figure out all the ways we can fail instead of just focusing on being happy.”

  “I don’t think that’s what I’m—”

  “No, it is. From my perspective, we’ve got something better than so many, and who gives a fuck how we got here or what the future holds? Clyde had people who loved
him and they don’t even know he exists. Same goes for his friend Jim, and who knows how many others? We are so lucky in so many ways and I just want to enjoy it.”

  “I know, you’re right.”

  “Of course I’m right, silly man.”

  He put his arm around her and kissed the side of her head. “I love you, Emma.”

  “I love you too. Listen, if you don’t want to talk about the store situation tonight we don’t have to. We’ve got a week.”

  “No, it’s fine. It’s gotta be done at some point. Might as well get to it.”

  “Okay.” She linked her fingers and stretched her arms above her head. “Sooo…the full moon is coming back and with it, we think, our portal to 1989. We have a few days to try to get Clyde and his friend out of there, and then we ride the wild purple wave right back to where we started.”

  “Right. That’s the in and out part for us. What about Clyde? We don’t know where he is or why our escape didn’t work for him.”

  “Yeah. That’s the issue, for sure. It’s like the stuff from your pockets. We could bring things from 1989 into the store but nothing came back with us. I also think that’s why we were so hungry.”

  “Holy shit, you’re probably right. The food got pulled right out of us, didn’t it?”

  “Seems like it,” Emma said. “So that’s a big problem. Clyde and Jim are part of 1989. Or at least, as far as the store is concerned.”

  “So can we find another way back? Closing the door sure as hell didn’t help. I feel like we tried everything.”

  “Not everything.”

  “Okay,” Dylan said, “I’m listening.”

  “What’s the longest we spent outside in 1989?”

  “Hmm. I’d say when we went to the library for sure. Didn’t time it, but the walk alone had to take up at least as much time as anything else we did.”

  “I agree with you. That’s the longest, and it was only maybe a couple hours.”

  “So you’re saying we stay longer? To what end?”

  “Well, we are pretty sure the day we keep getting sent to is the day Dr. Mike fucked up something major and set all this in motion, right?”