The Letterbox

by Layton Green

  “But why?” Asha said. She looked dazed.

  The man gave a thin smile. “For profit, of course. We plan to advertise our services to a select few individuals who can afford our exorbitant prices. In a clandestine manner, the word will be spread that an . . . organization . . . exists that can offer an otherworldly experience, staffed by the world’s greatest psychics and paranormal researchers. Our jaded and wealthy clients will flock to us, seeking the ultimate fix from the tedium of their lives. And we will give them nothing less than a life-changing brush with the spirit world.”

  -80-

  Jake waved a hand in a semicircle, showcasing the hill. “I suppose you’re gonna tell me you’ve engineered everything that’s happened to us?”

  “Of course,” the man said. “You don’t actually—do you still think that it was real?”

  “I’d like to hear your explanation of just how you managed to accomplish all of this.”

  “Where shall I begin?”

  Jake took a step forward. “How about with the times we almost died?”

  “You were never in any real danger,” Chenisdeaux said, “except for losing your soul.” He gave a low chuckle. “Excuse me. Industry joke.” He regained his pristine composure. “Everything you’ve experienced has been carefully planned and executed by S.T., Inc. The only physical injury of which I’m aware was the unfortunate accident involving Ms. Rana. The perpetrator, of course, is no longer with our company.”

  Jake snorted. “The Druids are working for you, too?”

  “We employ a number of the finest magicians and actors in the world, all paid extremely well and subject to strict confidentiality agreements.”

  “Actors?” Asha said shrilly. “Magicians? My brother—no. I know that was him.”

  “People believe what they wish to believe,” Chenisdeaux said softly.

  “So where’s Nyles?” I asked. “I suppose the gun wasn’t loaded?”

  The man winked at me. “Perhaps he chose the other doorway.”

  Jake folded his arms. “Vivian?”

  Chenisdeaux cocked his head and raised his eyebrows.

  “Wrong,” Jake said. “She and I had a little conversation before the two doorways, in front of You Know Who. I asked her questions only she could answer, and she passed with flying colors.”

  “Our research facilities are world-class, and our corporation utilizes the most advanced methods of illusion known to man. That said, it’s simple to deceive the masses. Think of the famous hoaxes of the world, some of which lasted for centuries. The Shroud of Turin. The Cottingley photos. I won’t even bother mentioning some of the fringe religious texts.” He stifled a laugh. “Golden tablets and crystal glasses.”

  “Words are cheap,” Jake said. “We just saw a man in a gray tunic disappear in front of our faces.”

  “Holographic images are only the beginning of the tools we use to ensure the most ‘authentic’ of supernatural experiences. Making someone disappear is quite simple; stage performers routinely make elephants disappear in front of hundreds of onlookers. Through the use of a complicated system of mirrors, the elephant is moved to a backstage area set up to appear as the real stage. The mirrors are positioned to allow the audience to think it is still looking at the animal on the front stage. Whenever the magician is ready to make the elephant disappear, he simply shuts down the mirrors.” He grinned. “Voila. No more elephant.”

  “Hard to do in a locked crypt,” Jake said.

  “You’d be surprised how far a little misdirection will take you. Perhaps the man in the crypt in Pere Lachaise emerged and exited through a secret door, with the final image of him reaching for you projected into the crypt with mirrors. That’s the tip of the iceberg, the barest of beginnings. You’ve no idea the advances science has made in the fields of holography and visual illusion. We can do things that you would—” he smiled, “not believe.”

  “And I suppose that’s how you made someone disappear in Grimspound in full daylight?” Jake asked. “You couldn’t possibly have had time to set that up.”

  “Simple illusions, actually. Our actors followed you everywhere and prepared long in advance for when the opportunity arose.”

  I looked back and forth between the two. My head was spinning.

  “Kika?” Lou asked. “How’d you find out about her? That has nothing to do with illusion.”

  “Good old-fashioned research. You wrote about her in a journal you kept during college. It took a while, but our research team managed to locate it.”

  I looked at Lou. “Is that true?”

  “I lost it years ago, but . . . yeah.” He shrugged, thoughtful. “It’s possible.”

  “We’re extremely thorough,” Mr. Chenisdeaux said.

  “My brother?” Asha whispered.

  “Clever disguises, dim lighting, old photographs, muffled voices. Tricks of the mind.”

  “But he said things to me, before the doorway. I was sure . . .” Asha bowed her head.

  I wasn’t nearly as ready to capitulate. “The shadow creature? The tunnels beneath Kostnice, the events of tonight?”

  “It’s quite easy to create a shadow creature, project a voice, utilize virtual reality to create the illusion of movement. Especially when drugged.”

  “The man in the gray tunic?” I asked.

  “A projection, of course. Did you touch him?”

  I grimaced. “What about the letterbox itself? We date-tested it.”

  Chenisdeaux turned to regard Jake, who I presumed had the letterbox in his backpack. “That’s actually authentic. The map is real, the legend of the nexus is real, everything your scholar told you in London is true. The perfect backstory was already in place, and we had only to set the quest in motion. In fact, we couldn’t have dreamed up a better scenario. And who knows. Maybe it is real. We didn’t check into that.”

  He smirked, and I wanted to smash his cavalier face. “The black doorway?” I said. “The mirror?”

  “Must you know all our secrets?” He sighed. “The ‘mirror’ was a tiny screen with pre-recorded images, including the ‘creature’ we superimposed over your reflection. As I said, we have the finest technology available, as well as very clever scientists in our employ. If we can send a man to the moon and destroy the world with atoms, I believe we can fake a few ghosts.”

  “What was the point of the doorway, if it didn’t lead anywhere?” Lou asked.

  “We needed a test group in order to evaluate our products, to see how far you were willing to go. We were quite surprised when none of you chose the other doorway, after all that had happened.”

  “My God,” Asha said. “How could you?”

  He wagged a finger in the air. “You must be asking yourself why we chose you in particular. After all, you didn’t sign up for any of this.”

  “Go on and give us a few more lies,” Jake said.

  “We needed normal, rational people to sample our scenarios. We’ve been observing your reactions to the planned occurrences the entire way. We knew Lucius would include Asha and Jake in the search, but the addition of Aidan and Lou was highly fortuitous. Your varying degrees of faith, and varying willingness to accept spiritual phenomena, proved quite useful. Your little group had the perfect range of preconceived notions of God and spirituality, and your diverse areas of expertise lent an air of authenticity. If subjects such as yourselves were fooled, it bodes well for the success of our enterprise.”

  I stared at him with a sinking sensation. Why should I bother to believe that I had experienced the divine when the most rational and human motive of all, greed, was staring me in the face?

  “You can hardly bring a product to market without testing it,” he continued. “Although we will, of course, vary the ‘quests’ for future clients. The Letterbox Scenario, as we like to call it, was merely the prototype.”

  “Why go to all the trouble?” Asha said dully. “Why not just show us a couple of fake spirits and be done with it?”

  “Econom
ics and authenticity. The striving, quest-like nature is designed to promote maximum believability. It also provides a heightened level of emotion. When you solve problems and experience danger, you’re more willing to believe in what you see, as well as feel it more deeply. You want to think that you have braved the unknown, solved riddles, conquered dangers.

  “And on an economic level, with a multiple-tiered scenario, the client garners more pride in the accomplishment . . . and is less likely to question why he or she has just parted with an exorbitant sum. We’re even considering implementing a system where clients are forced to pay at each stage of the journey in order to continue. However,” he mused, “that might calculate inversely into authenticity.”

  Jake crossed his arms. “Do you really believe people are going to pay that kind of money on the chance they might see a ghost?”

  The man smirked. “Dr. Fleniken, I believe your exact words were, captured nicely by our recorders: ‘I swear to you, nothing on this earth or anywhere else, not the Devil himself, will stop me from discovering its secrets.’”

  Jake balled his fists but didn’t respond.

  “How much would you have given to reach the final choice, to uncover the answers you so desperately sought?”

  Chenisdeaux let his words sink in. I gritted my teeth and looked away.

  “Look at you. You still want it to be real. Have no doubt: people will pay anything, they will do anything, for a taste of God.”

  “Why are you telling us this?” Lou said.

  “As willing but non-paying test subjects, we felt you deserved to know.”

  “What’s stopping us from running straight to the authorities? Do you plan to kill us?”

  “You’re free to leave, as you always have been. No one forced you to continue the scenario, or to do anything at all.”

  I waved my arms. “You’re a corporation. You have rules, protocols.”

  “S.T., Inc. was a corporate entity created solely for this test run. It has already been dissolved.”

  “Why not just rob people like normal thieves?” Lou asked in disgust. “Hit up a bank or something?”

  The man took umbrage for the first time. “We’re no better or worse than any other broker of faith, making promises that can never truly be kept. They are not promises that can be kept. People donate billions to churches every year. Where is their assurance that their souls are saved, their futures in heaven assured? Or, as reflected in our moniker, you might liken our corporation to a tourist agency. We provide a grand adventure, the most amazing ride this life has to offer, a journey into the unknown. Just as any tour company or organized religion, we provide the framework for an experience, and you’re free to enjoy it in whatever manner you choose. To believe what you wish to believe.”

  “You can’t play with people’s lives like that,” Asha said. “Use semantics all you want, but what you’re doing is evil.”

  “Evil?” he repeated softly. “I don’t think you have any conception, young lady, of the nature of true evil.” His visage twisted, for the briefest of moments, into a snarl, a caricature of his bland face. It passed so quickly—like a splice in a movie reel—that I thought I had imagined it. “Did not the prophets of the world, the great religious leaders, give people exactly what we aim to provide? They gave them faith, hope. The ultimate gifts. We’ve done you a service. It’s up to you what you do with it.”

  “So why come clean?” Lou said. “Doesn’t that ruin any good your little experiment might’ve done?”

  “Did you not ponder the nature of your existence, experience the wonder of faith?” he asked. “The veracity of the events is irrelevant. Mankind will never be able to prove the existence of God. Even if He were to leave evidence strewn about the world, mankind will never truly believe. It’s not in his nature.” He grinned and flicked his eyes towards one of the paths. “Not even if God Himself came down from heaven.”

  “I’ve heard about enough of this,” Jake said. He had a strange smile on his face. “I know who you are.”

  -81-

  “It must gall you,” Jake continued, “that in spite of all your clever lies, I still believe.”

  “I believe a doorway was provided for those with faith,” Chenisdeaux said.

  “Then you missed the point. She wanted me to stay, said I have things to do. We’ll be together again one day.”

  “That’s very touching. I’m glad you liked our hologram.”

  Jake folded his arms. “You’ve yet to offer an explanation as to how she knew the things she did. Go on, spin a few more lies.”

  “Perhaps you should stop talking in your sleep, or be more careful to whom you give confession. If you still don’t believe me, there’s not much more I can say. Some people can never face the truth. You will hear what you want to hear, believe what you want to believe. Now, let’s conclude our business. You provided us with a great service, and we’re well aware of the time and effort you’ve put forth. In compensation, and as a token of our appreciation, we’ve procured a gift for each of you. Further, we offer another item our team found buried close to the letterbox. You’ll find it quite valuable; we thought you should have it for your troubles.”

  He pointed at the burlap sack lying at his feet. “If you’ll please return our property, you may claim your rewards and return to your lives.”

  Jake reached into his backpack and took out the letterbox, keeping his eyes on Mr. Chenisdeaux the entire time. “This is what you want?”

  “We can hardly have the evidence of our scenario floating about.”

  “Is that right?” Jake said.

  “I assure you the contents of the sack will more than compensate you for your trouble.”

  “Maybe I don’t want compensation. Maybe I want the letterbox.”

  He stared at Jake. “It’s not your choice to make.”

  Jake’s slow grin was like the opening of a curtain.

  “Leave it on the hill if you prefer,” Chenisdeaux said. “I’ll pick it up when you leave.”

  “Nope.”

  The man took a step closer. I walked over to stand behind Jake.

  “What’s going on?” Lou asked.

  “Commie, just stay where you are.”

  Mr. Chenisdeaux took another step forward.

  “Not one more inch,” Jake said, holding up the letterbox.

  “You must understand, we can’t have our operation threatened by publicity. The contents of the sack are invaluable. Take them. You earned them.”

  “I feel the need for a memento,” Jake said. “I want the letterbox.”

  “It’s our lawful property.”

  “Feel free to discuss it with the authorities, Mr. Chenisdeaux.”

  “I’d rather not resort to force,” he said calmly.

  “I think if you could’ve taken it from us by now, you would have. Aren’t quite yourself here without it, are you? I’m also thinkin’ you had nothing to do with those doorways and was sweating it out, hoping I wouldn’t carry it through.” He held up the letterbox. “You’re in luck.”

  The man opened his mouth, but Jake pressed forward. “I think as soon as the sensors struck the box, you started the ball rolling. Outside of this place, and maybe at the points of intersection, I’m guessing you couldn’t do much. I don’t know how, but you managed a few phone calls to start S.T., Inc. and buy the land around Cranmere. You weren’t working with the Druids; you didn’t want them to have the box. You couldn’t carry it here yourself, and you couldn’t tell anyone what the box was, because they’d use it against you or bury it at the bottom of the ocean. You hedged your bets and had a flunky purchase Chateau Donn, in case the Druids got their hands on the box and wouldn’t cooperate.”

  “Really, Dr. Fleniken, now you’re just being obstinate,” he said. “The scenario is over. None of it was real. Perhaps,” he mused, “we went too far.”

  Jake smiled. “You needed someone who had no idea what the letterbox was, and who’d be compelled to discover its
origins. Lucky us. You gave us some nudges from your domain along the way, and trumped up this whole Spirit Tour story to trick us into turning over the box, because you’re not strong enough to take it until it’s in your hands. I’ll give you credit, you make a clever argument, but that’s of course what you’re good at. And I’m sure whatever’s in the bag is a nice distraction. The whole thing is pretty damn impressive.” Jake flashed another wicked grin. “Bet right about now you’re regretting I came along, aren’t you?”

  “You still wish for this to be real? So be it,” he said softly. “I’ll give you one last thrill.” He took a step forward, his face shimmering and contorting into a monstrous visage. This time he didn’t regain his composure.

  I took a step back, staring at him in shock.

  The timbre of his voice deepened. “I’m not one of the lowly spirits you’re used to seeing. I’m not going to flicker and disappear. Now give it to me, before I come and take it.”

  “Why don’t you, then?” Jake said. “I don’t think you can.”

  The man snarled and his lips curled back, further than they should go. He made a low, guttural sound that caused a shiver of fear somewhere deep inside me. “You’re wrong,” he said.

  I stumbled backwards and heard Jake say something in a low voice I believed was meant only for himself.

  “Get thee behind me, Satan,” Jake whispered.

  The man lunged towards the letterbox, impossibly fast.

  But Jake was ready. As Chenisdeaux reached for him, face twisted into an inhuman sneer, Jake threw the letterbox on the ground and stepped on it, bringing his weight crashing down on the lid. His boot went straight through the antique wood.

  The moment it did so, Mr. Chenisdeaux disappeared.

  -82-

  After a stunned silence, Lou gave a raspy laugh. “Smoke and mirrors until the end,” he said, his hand shaky as he pulled out a cigarette. “I guess we got our answers.”

  Jake walked to the edge of the clearing and folded his arms, his back to us, gazing into the darkness.

  Asha inhaled sharply. I turned and saw her bent over the sack. She extracted a tome with a tattered cover, bound with gold leaf and decorated with rune-like symbols, similar to the carvings on the letterbox. Lou reached for it, and she handed it to him.