by Jay Brushett
“Oh?” Jimmy asked, wanting her to get to the point, but also wanting to let her get to it in her own time.
“It was just after, after Darren — my son — died. A few months after.” She stopped and looked at him.
He tried to pick his jaw up from the floor. “Your son?”
“I’m sorry,” a tear ran down her cheek, “I should have said something last night. I’ve gotten so used to not telling anyone. No one here knows. No one. Not even my brother. I pretty much cut myself off while I was away. And with Darren gone… Why tell anyone? I didn’t need, or want, pity.” She paused and looked Jimmy right in the eyes, “I’m trusting you a lot Jimmy.”
“You can.”
She nodded. “I know. I don’t know why but I do trust you.”
“How…?”
“…did he die?” she asked, finishing his sentence.
Jimmy nodded.
“He was three. We were coming home from a friend’s house. John, my ex, was driving. I didn’t know until after, but the bastard had been drinking. He had promised me he wouldn’t. I should have known better.” A pause, a sigh. “The car went off the road. John and I were fine. Darren wasn’t.” She hung her head and held her face in her hands. “It’s good to get it out actually.”
Jimmy said nothing, waiting for her to continue. He wouldn’t have known what to say anyway.
“When I found out it was his fault I said fuck it and walked away. There was nothing there for me anymore. Nothing. Darren had been the only thing holding us together. We had been growing apart anyway.” She paused. “So I came home, and I’ve been here, holding this in ever since.”
“I’m sorry,” was all Jimmy could say.
“No, it’s okay.” She raised her head and wiped the tears from her cheeks. “It’s been a long time, I’ve been holding onto it too much, holding it in too much.”
“You were going to tell me something?” Jimmy asked.
“Right, and I’m sorry I didn’t say it last night. I really am.” A pause. “So after I came home, a couple months after, I was driving, it was late. I was coming home from somewhere, I don’t even recall where now. Maybe from seeing Ken, my brother. You remember him? He was pretty young when you left.
“Anyway, I was driving, near your old house, down the road, near the playground entrance. Isn’t that odd? I actually remember looking in there. I guess I was thinking of Darren, how he’d never play on a merry-go-round, never get to swing again, how he’d had his life cut short. And of course, that also made me think of Brad, how the same thing had happened to him. Both of them, so young. Different but the same, you know?
“So, I looked to the side of the road for a moment, distracted. Yes, I should have been paying more attention, but he came out of nowhere.”
“He?” Jimmy asked.
She nodded and continued. “Yes, I looked back toward the road and there he was, crossing the street. I managed to slam on the brakes and stop before I hit him. He stood there, his hands on the hood of the car. I came that close to hitting him, he could actually lay his hands on the car. Oh God, I could have killed him.
“I don’t even think he saw me. He was like a moose, or a deer, oblivious. He stood there a moment, as if the car, the situation, were some obstacle he had to overcome. But he looked right at me, the headlights lit him up like it was daytime. He didn’t see me, but I saw him as clear as anything.”
She stopped, and Jimmy saw that the blood had drained from her face. She was pale, and she was shaking.
“Who?” Jimmy asked.
“Brad,” she said, even paler than before.
“You thought it was Brad you mean, because you had been thinking about him?” Jimmy asked.
She shook her head. “No, no, it was him.”
“How old was he, would you say?”
“How old? Well, he was Brad, just like he always… oh my God.” She stopped, realizing what he was getting at, realizing the significance of what she had seen. “That’s impossible, isn’t it? It couldn’t have been him.”
“I didn’t say that.”
She looked at him, puzzled.
He told her what he had seen at the playground the previous night, how he thought he had seen Brad too, young, as he had been. And how he had definitely seen Steve.
“It’s crazy,” she said when he had finished. “And yet we both saw what we saw.”
“I was doubting myself,” Jimmy said. “But if you saw him too, well, how could we both see him? And in the same area, at a similar time of night? Something is going on.”
“But what?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. But I think it has something to do with that object, the one Brad found.”
“Why?”
“It was so… odd. There was something otherworldly about it. It wasn’t like anything I’d ever seen before. I can’t explain it.”
“I know what you mean,” she said, nodding.
“There’s one other person who might be able to help us, who might want to help us. He was there that day and he might remember something we don’t.”
“Larry?”
“Larry.”
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JUNE 24, 1988
Bradley disappeared again last night.
George checked on him when he got up to pee. When he saw the empty bed, he was out the door like a shot. He went to the playground, that’s where he found him the first time.
He got him, brought him back. But he’s still the same. Blank.
My Bradley is dead. God has already taken his soul and forgot to take his body. Perhaps it would have been better…
Anyway, no one saw him. That’s good. We’re still a normal family.
George is going to watch him tonight, make sure he stays put. He mentioned something about ropes.
That’s for the best. We can’t have him out at all hours. What would the neighbours think?
······························
RHONDA LEFT FOR WORK and Jimmy went to the restaurant in the hotel for breakfast. He would have to wait to call Larry, it was still very early in Toronto.
He hated being alone with his thoughts then. They galloped through his head without end. There were too many unknowns. What did Steve know? Would Larry know anything? Was Brad still alive? And, if he was, how was it he was still ten years old?
It was all nuts.
He laughed to himself. He had come here to escape the complexity of his life in Vancouver, had fled clear across the country to escape it. There he had hated being alone with his thoughts too. All he could think about then was Becky and how much she was tearing him apart.
At least now he had something to focus on. He realized he hadn’t thought of his wife, his soon to be ex-wife, in a while. That was good. That was progress.
After breakfast he took a walk, there was still time to kill.
He walked along the sidewalk, down a hill and around a bend, past one of the two grocery stores. Then up a hill, there was the shopping mall, around a turn and he passed the Walmart. Another turn, there was McDonald’s, a bit further and he was at the town hall. Then straight ahead and back to the hotel.
The walk had brought back memories. He hadn’t seen what was there now but what had been. The site of the Walmart had once been a cinema. He and Brad had watched Transformers: The Movie and Goonies there. And the town hall was new, the old one had also been on the site where the Walmart now stood. There had been an arcade and a fish and chips place on the site of the current town hall when Jimmy lived there. On Tuesdays, when Brad had finished his paper route, he and Jimmy would go to that restaurant and order fries. Brad, flush with several dollars after his morning deliveries, would treat his friend.
Jimmy almost wished, hoped his friend was dead. That sounded horrible but at least that would mean he was at peace. They could have peace. Was the thing he and Rhonda had seen Brad? Even if it looked like him, was it really him? How co
uld it be? And, if not, who was it?
It was all so damn confusing and impossible.
Jimmy entered the hotel and went back to his room. There he took his phone from his pocket and sat on the bed.
He opened the web browser. On the University of Toronto’s website, he went to the search bar and entered Lawrence Robertson. There were several results — press releases and blog posts that mentioned Larry and the research he was conducting. He had even garnered a mention in Discover magazine. It seemed he was quite well known and respected. His work revolved around using a certain type of star to create a galactic GPS system. It was way beyond Jimmy, but he grasped that it had something to do with mapping space or finding things in space. It all sounded very impressive.
Then there it was: a link to a faculty page about Larry. Doctor Lawrence Robertson, Ph.D., Professor, Department of Astronomy & Astrophysics. Listed among all the other information was an office telephone number.
Jimmy checked the time. It was still early in Toronto, but the workday had begun and that was good enough.
He tapped the phone number on the screen and waited for it to dial and connect. It rang several times before a husky voice said, “Hello?”
“Larry Robertson?”
“Yes, this is Dr. Robertson, how can I help you?”
“I… Dr. Robertson my name is James Noonan.”
“Yes?” There was no recognition.
“I knew you, well, not really knew you I suppose, but we’re from the same town. You, well, to be blunt, you bullied me and my friends a lot when we were kids. Do you remember a boy named Brad Herritt?”
Silence.
“Dr. Robertson?”
“Jimmy Noonan,” Larry said. It was not a question.
“Yes, that’s right, I’m Jimmy Noonan.”
“Why are you asking me about Brad Herritt?” Larry asked. Jimmy thought he could almost hear a hint of exhilaration, of expectation in his voice.
“I know after all these years you might not even remember but, well, I wanted to ask you… ask you about the day you chased us into the woods. The day Brad disappeared. I want to know if you remember anything… odd.”
“You mean the object.”
Jimmy’s jaw dropped. He hadn’t expected it to be so easy.
“You remember?” Jimmy asked.
“Remember? My God, how could I forget! I was born that day.”
“I’m not sure I follow, Dr. Robertson.”
“Jimmy, you were there, you saw it.”
“Yes, it was odd, otherworldly.”
Larry laughed. “Of course, it was alien.”
“Alien?” Jimmy asked.
“Well, I can’t be sure, but that would be my guess. Do you have it?” Larry asked, his voice rising, excited.
“No, I have no idea where it is. Well, I guess it’s where we left it, back in that muddy puddle twenty-five years ago.” He paused. “There’s more.”
“More?”
“Yes. I saw, and please don’t hang-up on me, I saw Brad. A few nights ago. And, seven years ago, Rhonda, she was with us that day in the woods, saw him too. Both of these incidents were around the same time of night.”
“Is that all?”
“You know he’s been missing since that day, since we found the object?” Jimmy asked.
“I know, of course. I meant was there anything else about the encounters? If you both saw a man that could have been Brad, well, that would mean he was still alive, which would, of course, be great news. But there wouldn’t be anything overly odd about it. Other than, I suppose, where he’s been all this time.”
Jimmy decided to lay all his cards on the table. “He was still ten years old. Seven years ago and last night.”
“Interesting,” Larry said. Only interesting, not you’re bat-shit crazy or how dare you call me with such nonsense. “Anything else?”
Jimmy informed him of Steve’s general oddness and the man’s appearance in the playground, right after Brad arrived there.
Again, all the other man said was, “Interesting.”
“Dr. Robertson?”
“What’s your number, Jimmy?”
Jimmy gave it to him.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“What? But…” Jimmy started, but it was too late. Larry had hung-up and was, apparently, on his way.
He switched off the phone’s screen and let his arms hang at his sides. He stared at the wall.
Larry was on his way.
What was going on, that a man would drop everything and travel half-way across the country to look into it? Jimmy hadn’t understood what Larry had been talking about, how he had been born that day. But the object — correction, alien device — obviously meant a lot to him. Of course, if it was alien, from outer space — crazy as that seemed — it would mean a lot to many people. It would be proof of life… out there. Jimmy found himself gazing upward, toward the heavens. The stained stucco he stared at only slightly diminished the effect.
The ramifications of it all — of what it could mean — were staggering. His life in Vancouver, even with his looming divorce, didn’t seem so complicated anymore. Nothing seemed complicated in comparison.
After some time, he couldn’t be sure how long, he collected himself and again switched on his phone’s screen.
Opening the messaging app, he tapped on the previous thread with Rhonda and typed a new message. Larry is coming. Tomorrow.
A few moments later she wrote back, What?!!!
She was at work, had things to do. Jimmy decided he’d fill her in on Larry’s alien conspiracies later. He replied, I know, crazy!
······························
MAY 27, 1989
The Noonans moved out today. Gone to Vancouver, where Jackie is from. And you’d know it too, always talked very different than folk from here.
I haven’t been writing much in here. Things are normal again now, as normal as they’re going to get I suspect.
It’s been almost a year now. My Bradley is still the same — blank as a cleaned blackboard. But, something else too. He hasn’t grown any since this all happened. He’s just the same.
I wish he had died.
Did I really write that?
Well, maybe it’s true. My son is gone. He stares off, all day, every day. Well except for when IT comes over him. The Devil, that’s what I think it is. He was off in the woods communing with the Devil. That’s how this all started.
Not that it’s his fault, he’s young. He couldn’t know the Devil from Judas.
And it’s so much trouble keeping it all under wraps. He goes out every night. George says not to worry about it, that he’s got it covered.
The ropes didn’t work. They did, but you could see Bradley straining like he HAD to be somewhere. George couldn’t take it.
But someone might see. And what then? Then it won’t only be Brad carted off to a hospital. No, it’ll be me and George carted off to the slammer. Lying to the cops. That’s not something you want anyone to know about.
Anyway, George says to not worry so I won’t worry. I’ll let him deal with it. He goes out, right on Bradley’s heels, follows him. And stays with him while the Devil talks to him through some glowing ball.
I’ve only seen the little glowing ball. But George says the other one is the same, only bigger. Bradley sits there and touches one to the other and… just sits there.
For hours.
But he and George come back, every day. And that’s all that matters. It always finishes up early enough that no one will see them. It’s not like anyone is out that early in the morning. Even Jessie Smith down the road doesn’t go out for her walk until six.
Thank God for small favours.
······························
THE REST OF THE DAY was quiet.
Jimmy drove around, passing his, and thus Brad’s, old house several times. But he saw nothing of consequence. The day was grey and t
hreatening to rain at any moment.
Time crept by, waiting as he was. But what could he do, until Larry arrived?
The sun was low, but unseen, in the still overcast sky when he arrived at the Ed’s Coffee House parking lot.
He waited for Rhonda to finish work, though he hadn’t told her he’d be there.
“Rhonda!” he called to her when he finally saw her walking to her car, clad in her brown uniform and visor.
She looked around, startled, confused. “Jimmy?”
“Hey,” he said as she walked up to the driver-side window of his rental.
“What are you doing here?” she asked. Smirking, she said, “You know people are already starting to talk about us.” She used air quotes to emphasize the last word.
He laughed. “Yeah, I figured that would happen. Do they have you pregnant yet?” He realized as soon as he spoke that it might be insensitive, given what she had shared with him.
But, luckily, she laughed, “Not that I heard, but I’ll keep you posted.” A pause. “So?”
“Wanna take a ride?”
“Where?”
“You know.”
She did. She looked up at the darkening sky.
“Do you think that’s a good idea?”
He shook his head, “No, but I don’t have any others.” He reached over and took something from the passenger seat. “And we won’t risk falling over a branch this time,” he said, waving a Canadian Tire flashlight, still in its packaging.
Rhonda stood there, rooted to the spot. She sighed after a few moments, walked around the front of the car and got in.
“Alright,” she said, buckling her seat belt, “let’s go.”
Minutes later they parked the car in front of an abandoned building, a little way from the gravel parking lot of the playground. Jimmy explained that he didn’t want Steve to see the car.
Soon they were walking along the overgrown trail. Daylight was fading fast, but they had enough light to see without the flashlight. Jimmy didn’t want to use it unless they had to.