Darkness Descends

by J. C. Kavanagh

  Connor and Max followed.

  The three pushed and kicked their way out of the swirling eddy and within minutes, they were caught in the current leading them down-river. “Stay on this side,” hollered Max, “and go over feet first.”

  Connor grabbed Jayden’s arm and pulled her close, interlocking his arm through hers. He reached out to Max and drew him in too. The three, arm-in-arm, bobbed their way to the edge of the waterfall. The moon shone down like a glowing stately statue, hovering near the top of the mountain. Connor signalled with his head toward the ghostly orb and shouted, “When you get to the bottom of the waterfall, swim in the direction of the moon. That’s the shoreline where we have to go. That’s where we have to start climbing again.”

  The mist was thick at the peak of the waterfall and the sound of the waves crashing below deafened them. Swimming or treading water was no longer required as the force of the current propelled them to the edge. They felt a sudden surge, like a hand giving them a gentle whack on the backside, and then they were catapulted out of the river, like human missiles shot from a cannon.

  They dropped over the waterfall as one, arms still interlocked.

  * * *

  With a sudden jolt, Jayden sat up. She was safe – in bed in her mom’s apartment – but the nightmare in the dream world still lingered in her mind. The waterfall. She hugged her knees to her chest, rocking herself like a motherless child. The small lamp from her chair/night stand glowed. She hadn’t bothered to turn it off when she went to bed, hoping it would prevent her from wading into the dream world. Wrong.

  Squinting at her cell phone, Jayden leaned over to pick it up. Her hand rested on her pillow and she pulled it back with shock. The pillow was wet. She scrambled out of bed, touching the fabric of her pyjama top and bottom. Dry. Puzzled, she felt the top of her head where her ponytail was tied for the night. She recoiled in horror. The cloth material surrounding the elastic scrunchie was soaked. My hair is wet.

  Jayden stepped away from her bed, trembling in shock as the truth hit her.

  “It’s real,” she whispered. “The dream world is real.”

  Chapter 14

  Be the Mannequin

  The pounding was so loud against her eardrums that it sparked match-like flames behind her eyes. Patty turned her head away from the noise and the lights. All she wanted was to sink into darkness, quiet, nothingness. But it was not to be. The pounding thuds increased in volume, yet the sound was not the familiar drum beat of her heart. The sound was... external. Puzzled, Patty opened her eyes. Suddenly, the sparks of light behind her eyes became one large beam in front of her, slowly intensifying into a house-sized, sun-like halo. She squeezed her eyes shut and dry swallowed, her tongue still thick with last night’s alcoholic beverages.

  “I must be seeing things,” she acknowledged, voice slurring. It sometimes happened after overindulging. She peeped one eye open just in time to see a pencil-thin stick figure step out of the light.

  “What the heck?” Patty blurted, rubbing her eyes. “Who are you?”

  The voice boomed at her like a foghorn in an ocean bay. “I AM WHO YOU WANT ME TO BE.”

  “Loud! That was too loud,” she whispered. The pounding sound reverberated in her ears and she didn’t know which orifice to cover, ears or eyes.

  “I don’t like it here,” Patty whined. “Who are you? Am I dreaming?” Patty’s rum-filled mind sorted through several possibilities, finally accepting the most logical alcohol-induced assumption.

  “Are you my, uh, my guardian angel?” Her throat seized and she coughed, a dry hacking sound. She needed a drink. “Is there such a thing? Because I heard, well, I heard people like me, I mean, people who sorta drink a lot, um, I heard that we have guardian angels. Yeah, and I heard these guardian angels take care of you when you can’t take care of yourself.” Patty squinted again into the light. “Is that who you are? My guardian angel?” She supressed a sob. “Cuz I don’t like it here. Not ‘here’ here. I mean at home. My life. I don’t like it there.”

  “Patricia... Patty.” The voice had a low, sonorous yet calming tone. “Take my hand and cross over. It’s not too late.”

  The figure shimmered in the light and Patty sensed he was welcoming her.

  “Patty, it’s never too late.”

  She held out her hand.

  * * *

  Jayden sauntered through the school’s parking lot, her two classes finished for the day. It was lunch time and students were lounging around their vehicles. Her mind was skittering from one idea to another, trying to figure out what to do about the Jeep. And how to figure out those dreams.

  “Hey, Jayden!”

  Not recognizing the voice, Jayden continued walking.

  “Hey you... Shortstop!”

  That brought her to a halt. There was only one person in the entire school who knew she played ball. The pineapple ponytail girl.

  Jayden hesitated and shifted her backpack. Two cars down, beside an old Honda Civic, stood that one person – the girl who enrolled at Jayden’s school last spring. The girl from the rival softball team – the girl with the pineapple ponytail.

  “Hey, are you playing this weekend? It’s the playoffs!” Her curling-ironed ponytail mane bobbed up and down and then swished back and forth, like a frisky pony. A few students looked at Jayden in disbelief as if to say, “The Queen of the Bully Biahtches plays baseball?” Jayden scowled at them. Yeah, I have a life away from school, morons. Get over it.

  She strode toward the girl. “Shut UP!”

  The girl’s face dropped for a moment and then she placed her hands on her hips. “What is wrong with you, girl?” she snapped back at Jayden. “I can see you have no friends and I’m thinking maybe you could use one. Me.”

  It was like a punch in the gut for Jayden. No one had ever sought out her friendship, especially at school. Her reputation as queen of the bullies evoked fear, not camaraderie. She didn’t know what to say.

  “I’m heading home,” the girl continued. “Need a ride?”

  Jayden gulped. This is déjà vu. The girl had attempted to befriend Jayden last spring and, feeling cornered, Jayden felt forced to make an on-the-spot choice: be bully or be nice. Back then, she was all bully and no nice. Today, though…

  “I, uh, could use one,” Jayden said slowly. “A ride, that is.”

  The girl held out her hand. “I’m Michelle, Michelle Dinnick-Schulze. But everyone calls me D.S., like DeeEss, get it? Cuz who can even spell Dinnick-Schulze?” The girl laughed. “Where do you live? Are you hungry? Do you want to grab a bite to eat first?”

  “Man, easy, easy! You sure talk a lot,” Jayden stated as she fastened her seat belt. “I live about five minutes from here and if you hang a left at the lights, there’s a pita place along the way.” There was no way the girl was coming to her home – no one ever came to her mom’s place. She kept that part of her life private, just as she kept her sports life private.

  “Oh yeah, pitas, I love them!” The girl’s ponytail bounced and swished with her pronouncement. “Hold on!” D.S. accelerated sharply in reverse and then launched the Honda into first gear. “Yee haw!” she hollered out the window.

  Jayden couldn’t help but grin. I think I like this girl.

  * * *

  The heavy-duty cable cutters were cold in his hands. He liked it that way. The cutters were an integral part of his bitter chant, his own portable drum set, his own scissors of destruction. Each thud emphasized the menacing words of his chant: “I don’t like it. I don’t want it. I HATE it.” THUD THUD THUD.

  Richard stroked the razor-sharp metal tips and caressed the long arms of the tool. He stood and listened intently. They were out there somewhere. Crossovers. Tracking them was his job and stopping them from getting to the top of the mountain was his mission. That’s what he told himself night after night. There were no days. Only darkness and moonlight. Cold, ghostly moonlight.

  He almost had one of them too. A few nights ago, he activated the
shield and trapped the female Crossover at the cliff. He gingerly scratched the thick scar across the top of his head as the scene replayed in his mind. He was confused. How did the girl get past the shield? Nothing could get through that electrical force. Their faces looked familiar though, but it made no sense to him. No one ever came back after they fell into the Town of Sleepmore. Ever. Nevertheless, he was certain they were the same three who outwitted him… when? Was it last month, last week? Or last year? The time was night and night eluded time. There was only one long ‘now’ that stretched endlessly. The moon stood still in the sky. Only clouds, water and wolves moved. And Crossovers.

  Richard pointed the cable cutters at the moon. He was about to call the wolves when a disturbance in the darkness caused him to pause… there was something in the air. Something he could sense but not see or smell. That could only mean one thing: a Crossover.

  A horrible, wicked grin stretched across his sickly face. It was time to hunt. Throwing the cable cutters over his shoulder like a double-barrelled shotgun, Richard began to march.

  * * *

  Connor sat beside Georgia’s hospital bed, a story book propped on his lap. He had gently placed one of her hands on his arm, hoping for a response while he read from her favourite book. It was a story about Mama Pangolin and her young son, Foleydota, and their adventures with a cheeky peacock named Persnickity. “In a land far away where the sun always shines and the snow never falls…” A knock on the door interrupted his story-telling.

  It was the head nurse. “Your dad called and said he was delayed at the fire station and won’t be here until 10. He couldn’t reach you. He said you must have turned off your cell phone.”

  “Yeah,” Connor responded. “I always turn it off when I’m here with Georgia.”

  The nurse nodded and walked toward the prone child, studying the bedside medical equipment. The intravenous pump continued its clockwork drip while the LED bars and numbers on the monitors maintained their green glow. “Her vitals are stable – no change.”

  “Yet,” added Connor.

  “Yet,” agreed the nurse. She quietly left the room.

  The sun was emitting its last rays and twilight was gathering gloom. Connor finished the pangolin book and then took Georgia’s limp hand in both of his. He wanted her to draw on his strength, to take from him whatever she needed so she could get out of Richard’s dream world. I have to find her… before it’s too late.

  “Before it’s too late,” he said out loud. That’s what the apparition, or protector or whatever he is… that’s what he says. Connor contemplated the man’s words. Was he talking about Georgia?

  Connor flinched, his mind reeling at the implication. He flinched again when Georgia opened her eyes.

  Staggering to his feet, he called out her name. Her deep blue eyes were open – but they were as blank as the lidless eyes of a storefront mannequin. Her face, however, was animated in a torturous contortion of utter, primal horror.

  She began to whimper and mewl, like a blind kitten in search of its mother. Connor grabbed the ‘call’ button for the nurse and pressed it repeatedly.

  “I’m here, right here,” Connor whispered, stroking her forehead, waiting for the nurse to return. Georgia’s mouth was open but no sound emerged. Her lips were drawn back over her teeth as if she was stuck in a silent, distorted scream. The incongruity of her lifeless eyes and terrified expression made Connor take a step back. Her face revealed terror, but her eyes displayed nothing. Emptiness.

  And then she spoke. In a voice emanating from the depths of her body, she moaned: “It’s the Thtompy Monthter.”

  Connor fell to his knees.

  Chapter 15

  Who’s Real?

  The knocking was incessant. Knock knock. Pause. Knock knock. Pause. Knock knock.

  Jayden rolled over and checked her phone. Who the heck is knocking at the door at 6:30 in the morning? She tossed the blanket to one side and slid off the sofa. Her mom hadn’t been home for days, ever since the Jeep-bashing incident. She hadn’t returned calls or texts and so Jayden slept on the couch, hoping to catch her coming home in the middle of the night. Maybe it’s Ma knocking? Maybe she lost her keys.

  Jayden scrambled to the door and checked through the peep hole. It was the Superintendent. What now?

  “Yes,” Jayden said. “What is it?”

  “I need to talk to you, so please open the door.”

  Jayden leaned her forehead on the cold metal door. If Ma hasn’t paid the rent again, I’ll scream.

  She pulled back the locking chain and opened the door. The superintendent stood there, his face flushed with perspiration, despite the cool temperature. He waved a business card at her. “The police were here yesterday looking for you, asking me about who trashed your Jeep. I, uh, told them you were at school.”

  “Why would they want to know about my Jeep?”

  The superintendent fidgeted with the business card and cleared his throat. “They knew your mom did it.” Before Jayden could react, he blurted, “But I didn’t tell them – they already knew!” He thrust the card at her. “Call and ask them yourself.” He lowered his voice, glancing up and down the hallway. “If you need anything, well, let me know. And uh, I want to thank you for sweeping up the broken glass... I should have done it for you.” Giving her a curt nod, he turned and walked toward the elevator.

  Jayden stared at the card in her hand. Someone must have squealed on Ma.

  Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of jingling coins – it was a text alert on her phone. She hurried to it, hoping it was her mom, but it was an unknown number. Frowning, she clicked on the message.

  Great news Jayden! Your insurance company approved the quote and your Jeep will be good as new in about a week. Text or call me back if you have any questions. Joe Mortimer, President of Maximum Drive, where we’re always happy to help a valued customer.

  Jayden was incredulous. Why would her insurance company approve the repairs? She hadn’t filed a police report – and yet the police knew it was her mom who caused the damage. If I didn’t file a report and the superintendent didn’t file a report, then who did?

  Jayden replied to the text: That’s great but how did my insurance company find out?

  She waited for his response and it was immediate.

  Police report filed and charges pending. All repairs covered!

  Jayden gulped, uncertain about the implications of his statement. He didn’t answer her question. She texted back, “ok,” and tossed the phone on the sofa. Hugging herself in despair, Jayden whispered, “No, there can’t be charges pending... oh Ma, where are you?” Her mind was numb and she realized there was only one thing to do. Picking up the phone, she dialed her father’s number.

  He picked up on the third ring. “Jayden, my beautiful daughter – what a wonderful way to start my day!”

  “Oh Dad,” she wailed, “Ma’s not here and someone filed a police report and I don’t know what to do.”

  “Your ma’s not there? I don’t understand. A police report?” Jayden could hear the consternation in her father’s voice. “What’s happening, Jayden?”

  “Dad, I’m sorry I didn’t return your calls this week but I just didn’t know what to say.”

  “Well, let’s start at the beginning. Tell me what’s happening.”

  Jayden swiped away her tears and then allowed the words to gush out. “My Jeep got trashed. It was Mom. Someone filed a police report so now the insurance will pay for the repairs. And mom is missing.” She released the pent-up sob in an anguished cry. “Dad, I’m trying to get past that ‘crossing point of independence’ you talk about, but I’m stuck. I just don’t know what to do.”

  “Oh, Jayden, I didn’t know,” he answered. “I didn’t know it was this bad with your mom. I’m so sorry, my sweet girl.”

  Jayden shook her head, thinking I’m not that sweet girl, but kept her silence. Her dad always knew what to do.

  “How long has your mom been missing
?”

  Jayden hesitated, realizing that by sharing her mom’s behaviour, she’d be placing a spotlight on her meagre maternal skills.

  “I haven’t seen Ma since the beginning of the week,” Jayden said, slowly. “She sometimes does this... meets up with someone and stays with them for a couple of days.”

  “Oh, Jayden, I’m so sorry,” her dad repeated. There was silence and Jayden knew he was absorbing her words while calculating their next steps. “I’ll call the police right now and file a missing person’s report. They’ll likely wish to speak with you, Jayden,” he said in a gentle tone, “for more information. Alright then? I’m about four hours away but if I leave now, I can pick you up before noon. We’ll figure out what to do next when I get there.”

  “Yeah, Dad, I’ll be here. I’m not going to school today.”

  * * *

  Jayden showered and then spent an hour organizing the living room. The dusty, messy apartment was a reflection of her mom’s dislike of house cleaning. Jayden stopped in the doorway of her mom’s bedroom and surveyed the mess. Dirty clothes were strewn on the floor around the open clothes hamper, like missed hoop shots, while clean clothes threatened to tip the back of the armchair. Brightly coloured silk scarves adorned the headboard posts as well as the top of the tall cheval mirror. It was the only bit of ‘cheery’ to be seen. Everything else in the room, even the cotton duvet, was a shabby shade of beige. Jayden ran her finger along the top of the dusty dresser and picked up the picture frame that had been left face-down. She examined the old family photo within the frame. It had been on her mom’s dresser for years and time had caused the ink to fade to a sepia tone. The familiar surge of loathing washed over her as she viewed the smiling people. The family in the photo were strangers – it was the generic marketing photo that came with the picture frame. “This family is so much nicer than my family,” Patty had announced at the time. “They make me feel happy.” And so it remained behind the glass frame on Patty’s dresser – her make-believe family. Jayden sighed and re-positioned the frame between an assortment of knock-off perfumes. They complemented each other, she thought: fake alongside fake.