The Pale Thane

by M.R. Hyde

young man eventually looked through the glass doors at him and pointed to the sign showing regular office hours. Reggie was not satisfied. At first he smiled broadly but then he expressed more than a little frustration and his face turned dark. The apartment manager opened the door slightly and was immediately confronted with the strong smell of chemicals. It took him only a moment to understand that the smell was emanating from the man himself. He was wild-eyed and very agitated with sweat pouring off of his brow and down his neck.

  “I’m trying to find my wife. She told me she moved into this place and I need to find her.”

  The manager hesitated and looked hard at the man.

  “My name is Reggie Osborn and my wife is here. You need to tell me where she is. She’s my wife and I have a right to see her.”

  The manager was sure this would be a mistake and spoke very firmly. “You will have to come back in the morning when we are open.” Before Reggie could spit out one more word, the manager locked the door and disappeared.

  Reggie raced away from the office and into the first courtyard he could find. He saw some teenagers, took a deep breath to calm himself, and walked up to them asking for a light. One young man pulled out a lighter and offered it to him, while two of the girls took soft and slow steps backwards to move behind the other boys. Most of them knew the smell of meth and they knew the kinds of behaviors that could accompany it.

  “Do you need somethin’?” the boy asked as his lighter was returned to him. He could see the man’s hand vibrating like a machine.

  “Yeah. My wife, she’s here with my boy. She’s about this tall and the boy is two. She told me she moved in here a couple of months ago and I keep trying to track her down and give her some money for the boy.” Reggie went on in rapid fire detail repeatedly describing the woman and the baby, along with the car and its license plate number. The more he talked the further the young people seemed to move away from him. This made Reggie very angry. Before they knew what happened, Reggie had the boy with the lighter by the collar demanding that they tell him where she was. The girls quickly ran into the darkened hallways terrified of what might happen next. The other boys fought back the urge to flee and feigned support from a good distance.

  “I don’t know your wife and there are hundreds of kids in this dump. Get off of me!”

  “You don’t get me to her I’ll make you remember you never want to see me again.” Reggie was leaning close to the boy’s face. The boy wrestled out of his grip just long enough to scoot away. One of the others yelled out, “Hey man, there’s a big laundry room two buildings down. Almost everyone goes there. Maybe you could find her there.” The comment distracted Reggie enough that all the boys scrambled for the nearest hallway and disappeared into the night.

  Reggie headed out in search of the laundry room. When he found it he saw two elderly women folding their clothes near the entrance. Reggie dropped down to their eye level and was in their faces before they knew what was happening. “You little cows seen a woman and a boy move in here about two months ago?” He described Carolita and Reggie, Jr. in heated, graphic detail. The women were terrified and unable to speak. He slapped the woman closest to him and cursed in her face. The woman on the left said she had seen a young woman and baby around building forty-two, but that’s all. As soon as Reggie ran out, the other woman went to the phone next to the soap dispenser and called the Manager’s Office.

  “You’ve got to call the police. There was a terrible man in here looking for a young woman and a baby. He slapped Lucille and her lip is bleeding bad. Yes, yes we’re in Building Three laundry room. Get some paramedics in here to take a look at Lucille. You gotta hurry. I don’t know what he’ll do next or if he’ll come back.” In what seemed an eternity, the women heard the familiar sirens peal out through the night air.

  Reggie saw an older man smoking near the entrance to Building Forty-Two. Once again, despite the chemicals racing through his body, he knew he had to take a deep breath. He stopped for a moment to gather himself, but could feel the rage boiling inside of him. He would find her and then she would know again what it meant to be on the wrong side of his fist.

  The old man noticed someone walking rather quickly toward him. It alarmed him a bit, because it was dusk and he couldn’t see very well at that time of day. He turned as quickly as he could to go back into the building. But before he could get through the door an arm pushed the door closed and a voice rasped in his ear, “I’m looking for Carolita Gonzalez, old man. I was told she was here. Where does she live?”

  “I—I don’t know,” he said weakly. “How would I know who she is and where she lives?” Herbert Spencer knew everyone in his building, whether he ever spoke with them or not.

  “Old man, I will end your life right now, if you don’t tell me where she is.” Herbert saw the blade of a knife jet out before his face. In one weak moment he blurted out, “Three-fifty-six.” It was the apartment right next to his. Reggie threw the door open and dashed up the stairs. Herbert heard the sirens for the first time and prayed that they were coming to this unit and not another.

  Carolita had not slept for three nights since seeing Reggie at the park. She had stopped only briefly to get groceries after driving all that afternoon. Then she hid the car behind the maintenance garage and prayed no one would tow it. She knew that she would have to stay inside for a few days and wanted to make sure that her boy would have enough to eat. She would not eat. That’s what terror did to her. She tried very hard to make the boy’s activities normal and quiet. No one must know that they were in the apartment.

  Tonight she felt a little less on edge. Forty-eight hours and hundreds of apartment units gave her a tiny bit of consolation. Reggie just might not find her. She had put Reggie, Jr. down for the night and lay quiet and still on the rough couch, hoping that her body could relax enough to sleep for a few moments.

  She heard a voice out in the hallway and sat up straight and still. The next thing she heard was the thunder of her hollow metal door. He was there. He was coming in. She grabbed the baby from the bedroom and stood shaking in the middle of the darkened room. The door made a repeated blast from impact, shaking the walls. For one brief moment she was amazed at the power of a drug-filled human being. But that moment was gone forever when the chain tore off the metal molding and flew across the living room hitting the window with a loud pop. The locks gave way and the metal door was flung hard against the soft drywall.

  Herbert stood for one terrible moment in the darkness when he suddenly realized what he had done. He had given a girl’s life away, just as he had in the war. How he could do that twice in his life he would probably never understand. But rational thinking kicked in and he lurched up the stairs, having to stop every five to ten steps to catch his breath. Something he thought might be courage was surging through him. But in a moment of clarity he realized it was probably repentance. He made it to the top of the stairs just in time to see the man kick the door in and hear the woman scream. Herbert reached his door, stumbled into his bedroom and knelt down by his bed. He pulled out his shotgun and forced himself up by pushing against the mattress. As he stumbled toward the door he struck at the layers of dust on the gun trying to make it look less like a relic. Herbert turned out of his apartment into the hallway. He could hear Carolita screaming. At the same time he heard voices coming up the staircase at the other end of the hall. Radio interactions indicated the presence of police. Herbert realized quickly that he could be identified as the threat as he stood there in his bathrobe and gun. He tried to dodge back into his apartment but hit his shoulder. Wincing with pain he made it to the bedroom again shoving the rifle as far under the bed as he could. He had no time to close his door and could even hear through the walls the struggle of the police trying to apprehend a beast. It struck him as odd that he had not yet heard the baby cry.

  When it sounded as if they had bound the man, Herb
ert peeked out into the hallway. Two officers were interviewing Carolita who was holding the baby close. They moved her down the hall toward Herbert so Reggie could be taken out. As Reggie writhed, spat and cursed, Carolita hid behind the officers so that she would not have to see him. Then the baby began to scream. Within minutes Reggie was taken down the stairs, his curses fading in the hallway. Herbert went and stood stoically next to Carolita and attempted to comfort the baby with soft words. Behind him he heard someone coming and turned to see the apartment manager appearing on the scene.

  The police saw the manager and greeted him by name. They were altogether too familiar with this man. Too many times they had had to call him to get access, give him their reports and arrest people in his urban village. They treated him with respect, which would surprise Herbert later upon recalling the event. One of the officers asked Herbert if they could use his living room so that the woman and her child could sit down while they took her complete statement. Herbert quickly accommodated them while the manager and the other officers inspected the damage.

  When he followed the officers into the