Gateway

by David C. Cassidy

  “It’s okay,” Jared told him, coming up beside him. “What goes up, always comes down.”

  “I’ll get it,” Kit said. He rolled up the slack as he headed off to the kite, and Jared returned to Marisa.

  Three boys approached Kit when he reached the kite. They were much older, maybe fifteen. When Kit went for the kite, the tallest of the bunch snatched it away.

  Marisa got down off the table and started running. Jared joined her, rushing beside her.

  The kids were teasing Kit now, the three of them forming a triangle around him. They were taunting him with the kite, offering it, then snatching it back before he could snag it. They passed it from one to the other, Kit struggling to keep up as he turned round and round. The catcalls grew louder. It was a simple refrain that Jared could make out as he got closer.

  “Milky eyes, Look like sludge, Here he is, Christian Smudge! Milky eyes, Look like sludge—”

  “Leave him alone!” Marisa screamed.

  “Stop it!” Jared shouted. “Stop it!”

  The tallest boy had rugged looks for his age, with dark hair and a chiseled jawline. He wore a deep blue T-shirt that had a colorful drawing of a hand flipping the bird. He dropped the kite, then placed a hand to the artwork on his chest and flipped it at Jared. He stood his ground, and his buddies joined him.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Marisa snapped, out of breath. Jared stepped up beside her.

  Marisa knelt beside her son. Kit was okay, but clearly upset. He sniffled, and did his best to put on a brave face.

  “I should have known,” Marisa said, stabbing a glare at the tall one.

  Parker Brooks snickered. “Hear that, guys? I’m famous.” He looked squarely at Kit. “What do you think of that, Smudge?”

  “Don’t call him that,” Marisa barked. “Don’t you dare.”

  Jared stepped forward, directing himself to Parker Brooks. “You got a problem, kid?”

  “Yeah. You, old man.”

  “You know him, Parks?” It was Nelson Kurtz, another good-looking kid. His spiked blonde hair had too much gel, and stood razor-straight in the breeze.

  “Yeah, I know him,” Parker said. “He’s the bozo on that stupid billboard just outside of town.”

  “Jared Cole?” Nelson asked. “You sure?”

  “I thought that’s who it was,” Darren Philips added. He had dazzling blue eyes and black hair. “Maybe we should get his autograph.”

  Parker Brooks chuckled.

  “Why don’t you three just move along,” Jared said. “Go read a book or something. If you can.”

  “Ohhh, good one,” Parker said. “Just a whiz with words, eh?” He stepped on the kite, putting his foot through the dragon.

  Jared grimaced. “Wow,” he said sarcastically. “You killed a kite. It’s pretty clear you’re going to be a real success when you grow up.”

  Parker Brooks laughed. “Whatever.” He gave Kit a grin and a curt salute. “See ya at school, Smudge.”

  “Get out of here,” Marisa said. “Before I call the police.”

  “Oh! Let me help with that,” Parker said. He reached into his back pocket and drew out his iPhone. He looked as if he was starting to dial a number, but instead he angled the phone in the sunshine, reflecting it. The light was blinding, and he shifted the angle of the phone up and down, producing a strobe-like effect. It caught Kit square in the eyes, and by the time anyone realized what was happening, it was too late.

  Marisa watched in horror as Kit slumped in her arms. His head listed a moment, then turned slowly, side to side. He smacked his lips. His eyes began to pitch and roll.

  “Jesus, Parks!” Nelson Kurtz said. “What did you do? Jesus!”

  Parker Brooks laughed out loud—and bolted. His friends bolted with him. Jared started to go after them, but found himself quickly out of breath. His years behind a cigarette had caught up with him, and he stopped, gasping. When he could, he hurried to Marisa’s side.

  “What’s happening?” he said. Kit was groaning now.

  “The light’s a trigger,” Marisa told him. “He’s about to have a seizure.”

  “What can I do?” Jared said, hearing panic in his voice.

  “Stay calm,” she said. “Just stay calm.”

  She held her son close. “Easy, baby. That’s it.”

  Kit slid his hand into his pocket. He seemed semi-lucid, as if drifting in and out of a dream. He pulled out his hand, and Marisa helped him clasp both hands around the hematite.

  “Count with me,” she whispered. “Count with me, baby.”

  They counted down together. Jared counted with them, silently, not realizing he was doing so.

  Kit opened his eyes. Saliva dribbled from the side of his mouth. He seemed to be coming out of it.

  Marisa held him closer. “It’s okay,” she said, her voice soft and steady. She stroked his hair gently.

  “You all right, Kit?” Jared said.

  Kit drew a slow breath. “Just a bit dizzy.” He looked up at his mother. He smiled, and then wiped away a tear that had slipped down her cheek.

  She kissed him on the top of the head. “Any blurriness?”

  “No more than usual,” Kit said jokingly. “And no spots.”

  “Spots?” Jared said.

  “Sometimes I see colored spots,” Kit said. “Sometimes people.”

  “People?”

  “Just shapes, mostly. But that’s usually when I’ve had a real event.”

  “A seizure,” Marisa explained.

  “So you’re okay?” Jared said. “No seizure?”

  Kit gave him a thumbs-up. “Crisis averted.”

  “I’m so sorry about this,” Jared said.

  Kit responded with a woeful frown. “I’m sorry about your kite.”

  ~ 22

  The kite was damaged beyond repair, and as Jared stuffed the last of it into the trash receptacle in the picnic area, he thought about how it would feel to stomp his foot through Parker Brooks’ face. Still, when he sat down beside Marisa and watched Kit sitting down by the shore, he realized things could have been worse. Far worse.

  “Is he all right?” he asked. “All clear?”

  “Fingers crossed,” Marisa said. “You never know, believe me.”

  “I kinda panicked. I feared the worst.”

  “Join the club. It never gets easier.”

  “You seemed pretty calm.”

  “Ahhh, my mom poker face,” she said with an anxious laugh. “You learn how to bluff fast in this game.”

  Jared shook his head. “God, I can’t believe that kid did that to him.”

  “Parker Brooks? He’s a total jackass. A spoiled, me-me-me rich kid. His friends are just as snotty.”

  “Are you going to press charges?”

  “Why bother?” she said, downcast. “Even if I wanted to, he’s only fourteen. It’s not like anything would come of it.”

  Jared shared her disappointment. “That kid needs a swift kick in the ass.”

  “In the balls.”

  Jared looked at her, and they both laughed.

  “I don’t know how you do it,” he said. “All this, and a bully, to boot.”

  Marisa sighed. “You just do.”

  ~ 23

  Jared, Marisa, and Kit spent the next hour enjoying their picnic, and despite what had transpired, each of them finished a full plate of sliced ham, rolls, deviled eggs, and generous portions of potato salad. When they were finished, Jared drew out a pack of Camel cigarettes he’d tossed into the cooler.

  “Oh … my … God,” Marisa said. “You’re still smoking?”

  Jared had just cracked the seal. He hesitated, clearly embarrassed, and tossed the package into the cooler. “Jeez,” he said, feigning surprise. “Who the heck put that in there?”

  “I’m not your keeper. All I ask is that you don’t smoke around Kit.”

  Kit was sitting next to Jared. The boy looked up, his eyes wide. “It’s not good for you, Jared.” />
  Jared nodded. “You’re right. And you know what? It’s time I stopped.” He took out the pack and carried it to the trash bin. He buried it with the kite remains, then wiped his hands with a motion of finality. “Done.”

  “Jared,” Marisa said. “You don’t have to do that.”

  “Done,” he repeated. “The truth is, when I ran after that Brooks kid, I barely made ten yards before my lungs gave out.” Not to mention the heart attack you almost had, he thought.

  He sat with Marisa for the next half hour. Kit amused himself on the swings, and when it was time to go, Marisa called him to come. They all headed out to the Land Rover, Marisa beside Jared, who lugged the cooler. Kit followed, several steps behind.

  “Can you get my keys?” Jared asked her when they reached the street. “Left pocket.”

  Marisa went to get them, and was nearly run down by a group of cyclists racing by. She got out of the way just in time, and Jared shouted at them to watch where they were going. One of them gave him the finger, telling him to do the same.

  “Real nice,” he said, turning to her. “You’d think we were in New Yor— ”

  He almost dropped the cooler, setting it down quickly with a thud.

  Marisa whirled round.

  Kit was on the ground. His body trembled. He tried to find his calming stone, but his hand got stuck in his pocket. The left side of his face began to twitch and jerk. His head rolled to the side, and saliva slid from his mouth and down his cheek. He groaned.

  “Kit!” Marisa shouted. She raced to his side.

  Jared knelt opposite to her. Kit’s eyes seemed larger, even murkier than before.

  “He can’t see,” she said to Jared, as calmly as she could.

  “What? What?”

  “He’ll be all right,” she assured him. “It won’t last.”

  Jared looked at her, dumbfounded. Afraid. His heart pounded.

  Kit’s eyes shifted slowly, as if struggling to focus on something that wasn’t there. As if his mind insisted something lurked at the edge of his senses, but whatever it was lay hidden, refusing to show itself. He jerked suddenly, his hand free of his pocket. The stone slipped from his grasp and fell to the ground.

  Jared panicked. He reached for the stone, and at that moment, fear overwhelmed him. His eyes locked with Kit’s.

  No, no, not now—

  Yet no matter how hard he tried, no matter how much he wanted to … he could not look away.

  ~ 24

  Jared’s eyes burned. His temples throbbed. He battled the awesome power rising within him, but his efforts were futile. The gateway was open, and he knew that in the next moment his mind would be overrun and overwhelmed, trampled by knowing.

  Things were blurry; all was silent. Marisa was an indistinct shape. Her lips moved rapidly, but her words were lost. He felt dizzy, punch drunk, and he braced himself for what was coming.

  His body jerked. It was as if someone had shocked him with charged cables. Something struck the back of his head, and he cried out.

  Cold gripped him, so raw that it choked him from the inside. His heart froze. It felt as if something had entered him, had taken him whole. As if it were eating him alive.

  Kit’s body convulsed. His face contorted. His eyes grew bloodshot. The veins around them began to thicken, the skin there souring to a sickly green. He started to speak, his voice not his own. Marisa screamed.

  Another shot to the back of the head sent Jared reeling. It felt like he’d been whacked with a crowbar. Nothing physical had actually struck him—the force he felt should have knocked him forward, but didn’t—and yet the explosion of pain was all too real.

  Blood filled the whites of his eyes, and the veins around them thickened. The skin about them turned that same sickly hue as Kit’s.

  “Kit!” Marisa shouted. She tried to hold him, tried to steady his rocking body. His right hand flung up and struck her square in the face. She slipped back and landed on her side. Stunned, it took her a moment to get up, and when she did, her jaw dropped.

  Jared trembled. His nose bled, first a little, then a lot. The blood was dark and thick. It gushed from his nostrils, streaming down his lips and his chin. Marisa was screaming for him now, screaming for help, yet still he heard nothing. All he could hear were muffled, garbled words from Kit, words that pounded inside his brain like a hammer.

  Something black and inhuman—something sinister—coursed through him, flooding him, drowning him. His mind spun, and as always, he found himself adrift in that terrifying darkness that so crippled. It was brutal and raw, a river of ice, and the cold current swept him away. He could not fight it, nor did he try. Whatever had come through this dark door drove deeper into his mind and into his body, and in the next breath he fell back and struck the pavement, falling unconscious.

  ~ 25

  Jared could hear Marisa now—her cries for help. He was coming out of it. When he opened his eyes, he squinted at the blinding sun. He could feel the warmth of his blood on his skin.

  “Jared! Thank God! Are you okay?”

  He rolled over, dizzy. He shook it off and rose to his knees. His head was pounding. His eyes were still burning. He rubbed them until the fuzziness ebbed.

  Marisa was holding her son. “He’s okay. The reflectors on those bikes triggered him.”

  Kit was lucid. He regarded Jared with a silly grin.

  “You okay, Kit?”

  “My head’s a little woozy. I can’t see very good right now, but I will in a few minutes. Are you okay?”

  Jared sniffled and wiped some blood from under his nose. The flow had stopped, but this had been a bad one. He could taste the blood on his lips.

  “I’m all right,” he said. His mind was racing.

  The gateway—

  “Are you sure?” Marisa said.

  “How long was I out?”

  “Not long,” she told him. “Maybe a minute. I panicked. I didn’t know what to do. Kit came out of his seizure, and I had to be sure he was okay. I called for help, but no one came.”

  “You did the right thing,” Jared said. “I’m really sorry. I don’t know what happened to me. I guess I fainted.”

  “You don’t have to apologize,” she said. She looked at him closely.

  “What is it?” he said.

  “This wasn’t just fainting, Jared. Something happened. To both of you.”

  He didn’t answer. Something had happened, all right—the gateway—something he couldn’t hope to explain. And something else had happened, too, something that scared the hell out of him. Something that had never happened before. He tried to remember what it was, but his memory failed him. All he had was this unsettling feeling inside of him … a feeling of dread. Or—

  “Your eyes,” Marisa said, when he didn’t respond. “They’re so bloodshot. And your skin …”

  “My skin?”

  “You look a little pale, even for you. A little yellow. And the veins around your eyes—they’re dark. They’ve faded a lot, but you can still see them.”

  Jared looked at Kit.

  “It happened to him, too,” Marisa said. “Everything except the nosebleed.”

  “I’ve never had one,” Kit said. “I don’t think I want to.”

  “You seem okay,” Jared said, giving him a quick once-over.

  “He looked just like you until you blacked out,” Marisa said. “It all faded away in a few seconds.”

  “Has this ever happened before?” Jared said.

  Marisa shook her head. She looked confused. Frightened. “Has this ever happened to you?”

  “Just the nosebleed. But that’s nothing new.”

  She gave him a look.

  She doesn’t believe you, he thought. Fact is, she wouldn’t believe you.

  “We’d better get off the road,” he said, realizing where they were. He turned to Kit. “Can you stand?”

  “Yeah, I’m good.”

  Marisa helped him up.

  Jared got slowly to his
feet. His head was still swimming. Still pounding. He staggered.

  “Take it easy,” Marisa said.

  “I’m okay. Just got up too fast.” He gave her the keys, and she helped her son into the back seat. Jared was rubbing his eyes when she came round to the back of the vehicle.

  “You should see a doctor,” she said.

  He shook his head. “Just a tad woozy. It’ll pass.” He pointed to the cooler. “Can you help me with that?”

  They packed it into the cargo area, and she closed the trunk. She rubbed his arm. “Jared,” she said soberly. “We need to talk.”

  ~ 26

  Standing in Marisa’s living room, again Jared asked Kit if he was all right. Kit looked none the worse for wear, and gave him a priceless grin.

  “Thanks for the picnic,” Kit said. “The kite was cool.”

  “We can always go again,” Jared said. He looked at Marisa. “How about next week?”

  Marisa brightened. “I’d like that.”

  “Great,” Jared said. He smiled at Kit. “I’ll pick up a new kite.”

  “Awesome!”

  “Kit,” Marisa said, “can you give Mommy some time with Jared? I have to clean him up a little.”

  “Sure.” Kit thanked Jared again, and went upstairs.

  “And wash up, too!” Marisa shouted after him. She led Jared into the kitchen and offered him a chair at the table. When she finished cleaning the blood from his nose and chin with some paper towels, she took a seat next to him.

  She looked at him squarely. Raised her brows. “Well?”

  “Well, what?” Like he didn’t know.

  “Oh, I don’t know,” she said sarcastically. “Maybe something like, what the hell happened back there? Let’s start with that.”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. Has your son ever had a seizure like that?”

  “Never.”

  “Huh.”

  “That’s it? Just a shrug?”

  “I don’t know what to tell you.”

  “You were clearly in pain,” she said. “Both of you, from what I can tell. It’s like you both had a seizure.”