Leaves and Shadows

by Christopher Chancy

  Erin shook her head. “I . . . I don’t think so.”

  Marsha sighed heavily and some of the tension left her stature. “Oh, thank goodness! For a moment I was afraid it had done something to you.” Marsha shuddered and her expression became distant. “If you had fallen differently,” she repeated. “If your hand had not landed outside the boundaries of the door . . .” she trailed off.

  Fear gripped her chest and Erin quietly prompted, “What would have happened?”

  The older woman looked at her with stark eyes. “I wouldn’t have been able to help you, Erin. At least, I don’t think I could have. Things in this place are so uncertain.”

  Erin nodded at the understatement. She looked at her supposed-mother with a torrent of feelings. Horror, incredulousness, fear, hope, and most of all uncertainty churned within her as she stared at this woman claiming the remarkable. Marsha met her eyes without flinching.

  “Are you really my mother?” she asked.

  The other woman seemed to expect the question. “What does your heart tell you?”

  Erin shook her head. “Right now, I just don’t know what to think.”

  Slowly she placed her hand on Erin’s cheek. The palm of her hand felt warm, but most of all, something about her touch felt right. Erin leaned her face into the palm of Marsha’s hand as she held it with her own. She looked into the older woman’s eyes and knew with her heart’s certainty that this woman was exactly who she seemed to be.

  “Momma?”

  “Yes, honey, it’s me.”

  They both burst into tears and grabbed each other in a fierce embrace. In that instant, the years of pain and distance between them imploded to nothing as they hugged. For them, there was only this moment, filled with their love.

  Time passed, but not nearly as long as either would have preferred. Marsha took Erin by the shoulders and gently pushed her back. Erin looked up at her mother with wet, red eyes.

  Marsha smiled. “Erin, I’m sorry, I could hold you all day if it were up to me, but time is not our ally.” She looked up at the sun dwindling in the sky and shook her head. “I shouldn’t have hugged you as long as I did. It was selfish of me, and we simply do not have the time.” A tear trickled down her cheek unhindered. “I have to apologize to you, I was just so overwhelmed. I hadn’t seen you in so long, and how I left you was . . .” She trailed off. Even after the passage of death, some words could be difficult to say. She took a deep breath and smiled at her daughter. “What I mean to say, is that I love you. I am proud of the girl you were and the woman you’ve become. I am sorry for the way we parted.”

  Erin stared. Her mother had always been as proud as the day was long. She had never apologized for anything in her life. “Thank you, Momma. That means so much to me. I love you too, and I’m sorry for what I said…”

  “Hush, child,” Marsha said gently. “I know you are. I heard what you said to me in the private moments throughout those following years. Any transgressions against me, whether perceived or real, have long since been forgiven.”

  “They have?” Erin was shocked.

  “Yes, but we cannot remain here to discuss them. Our time is growing short. You are not safe here.”

  “Wait a minute!” Cold realization resurfaced. “Where are we? If I’m seeing you now does that mean that . . .” Erin’s hand automatically drifted to her stomach. Something about caressing her pregnant abdomen gave her comfort.

  Marsha met her gaze with a smile. She placed her palm over Erin’s belly. Inside her, Erin felt her unborn child shift closer to her mother’s hand. Marsha’s eyes glistened as she felt the contact with her grandchild through Erin’s skin. Her smile broadened as she looked down at the shifting bump against her palm. “You are not dead, Erin. Neither is the child within you.”

  “Then where are we? Did I fall off the playground equipment? Is this some sort of concussion-induced nightmare?”

  Marsha shook her head slowly. “It’s not that simple, sweetie.”

  “Evan!” Erin cried out, “How could I forget about him so easily? I fell down that slide looking for him! Where is he?” She twisted around to look for him in the fading light. She gasped as she took an involuntary step back and she looked from her mother to her surroundings. “Where are we?”

  The moment she asked, she recognized the haunting familiarity of this place. She was sure that she had been somewhere like this before, but not quite the same. It was an expansive water park, but age and disuse had transformed it into a place of decrepit horror.

  All around her were waterslides of varied heights and styles. Towering slides with circular stairs loomed over them from every direction. There were small slides made for toddlers, others with steep drop offs that would have given their patrons wedgies, and wide, encompassing slides designed for inner tubes. There were also winding chute slides designed to block out the light and plunge the rider straight into darkness. Looking at those last tubes she cringed with horror. Would they transport her back to the hell she had just escaped? Or did something else reside within their bowels, waiting with terrible glee for new victims to slide into their unholy clutches?

  The frames supporting the slides t were heavily rusted and in multiple stages of disrepair. Heavy mold on the slides’ exterior dripped off their bellies in the frozen forms of false stalactites. A lazy river wound a path throughout the water park, was full of faded partially-deflated inner tubes within its sickly greenish brown water. The perfectly still surface of the unmoving river was completely covered with a top layer of algae scum and mold. Sporadic piles of old leaves rested in clumps atop the web of barely-floating inner tubes within the river’s concrete boundaries.

  The dead leaves were everywhere. Haphazard piles lay all around her, covering the entire sidewalk in places. They had accumulated in great heaps around the rusty skeletal frames of the water slides and within the low rising buildings that lined the sidewalk path. She recognized these one-room buildings without front walls as the carnival shops and game stations that they once were. Inside these rooms were the wares and prizes that people bought and tried to earn through impossible carnival contests. Racks of t-shirts had become ragged threads that only stayed on their hangers by mildewed strands that had barely stood the test of time. Stuffed animals of varying sizes had great holes worn through where their cotton guts spilled out, and the stuffing that had been saturated from years of humidity was also blackened with mold. All of those unattainable, now unwanted prizes of her childhood stared at her with dulled black eyes. Strangely, Erin felt she could sense a carnivorous intelligence staring out from those eyes. And past them something else nagged at her instincts, as if something were staring at her from beyond the shadows of the shops.

  Once she acknowledged the sense of being watched, it became overwhelming. She felt eyes staring at her from all sides, and she knew that it wasn't just her fear playing on her nerves. She looked around nervously but she could not see another soul in the water park save for herself and her mother. She was sure that those hidden eyes belonged to something malevolent.

  She hugged herself tightly under the weight of their stares. She shivered as she grew aware of the coldness in the air. It felt like winter's cold embrace was only a few days or maybe just a nightfall away, the time just before you pulled out your sweaters or thicker socks. She wasn't wearing any of those now. It had still been short sleeve weather when she and Evan left for the park an eternity ago. To make things worse, the humidity from the decrepit pools of water crept into her bones.

  Gray clouds overcast the sky’s horizon. The sunlight was able to get through, but only just. When she came out of that hell of perpetual darkness, the light here was a virtual beacon. Now that she had time for her perspective to shift, she could see that her lighting was of late afternoon or evening here, and it was unmistakably dwindling. She had maybe two to two and a half hours of daylight left before the cloak of the night would be fully upon them.

  The picture was suddenly complete as she
recognized this water park as the one that she had visited in countless nightmares. Her unwanted dreams had cast her within this very same abandoned water park.

  “Where are we? It was almost night when we were at the park?”

  Her mother answered as she too looked at their surroundings warily. "Time works differently here. The line between instant and eternity is precarious here.”

  Erin looked at her mother. “What is this place?”

  Marsha closed her eyes. “This realm does not possess an actual name, although it does embody some of the elemental qualities of your dreams. Like your dreams this . . . realm skims from your actual experiences to help shape its existence, but this is not a dream Erin. You are here physically."

  "So if my experiences shape this place's existence, does that mean I have control over this reality?” Erin asked thoughtfully. Can I make it world relinquish Evan?

  "No!” Marsha said so sharply that Erin took a step back. Her mother moved in close as she grabbed her daughter's shoulder in a painful grip and stared into her eyes with fierce intent. "Erin, this realm is far beyond your human comprehension. Mere words cannot even begin to properly explain this . . . place to you. What you need to know is that it utilizes your experiences to form its reality. That is where the similarities to your dreams cease. It cannot be controlled by your whims. You are a prisoner here, not a god! Like prison there are rules here that I cannot even begin to explain to you, but you and I are subject to them whether you understand them or not. Know that unlike a dream that you could wake from when you are about to get injured, here you will not wake up. Those injuries have very real consequences, and you will feel genuine pain. Think of your ankle, when you were grabbed in the darkness. That pain was real. You felt that agony in your body and in your soul. You can die here, and if you do, your soul will be imprisoned in this realm forever.”

  “Forever?” Erin gasped.

  Marsha nodded. “This place is dangerous, and I have to get you out of here as soon as possible.”

  “What about Evan?”

  Marsha looked away.

  Erin blanched. “Do you . . . do you think that he’s . . .” Erin couldn’t give the question voice.

  “I don’t think so,” Marsha said uncertainly. “I think if he had died I would have sensed it. I believe you would have, too. We need to get the two of you out of here as soon as possible, but Erin, I am required to tell you that this journey you have set yourself on will not be easy. You and your son could die or worse. Up to a certain point, if you are too afraid to go forward I can take you to a safe exit.”

  “Up to certain point? What do you mean by that?”

  Marsha sighed in frustration. “I’m sorry to be cryptic. I can’t help it. As your guide here I am bound by certain rules.”

  “Like the one about the doorway’s threshold?” Erin interrupted.

  “Yes.” Marsha nodded. “What I mean is, once we reach a certain point, there won’t be any going back.”

  “Do you know where my son is?” Erin asked getting progressively more anxious.

  Marsha looked off into the distance. Erin followed her gaze. All she could see was more empty foreboding buildings. “I can lead you to him. Follow me.”

  Chapter Five

  Waterpark

  Despite Marsha’s admission that they needed to hurry, she proceeded at a cautious pace. Part of Erin didn’t mind. She still felt winded from running through the waist-high leaves in the place of darkness. At the moment, she was feeling every bit of her seven months of pregnancy.

  Marsha’s head swiveled almost constantly as they walked. They stopped at the edge of an open-walled shop so that Marsha could peek around the corner to scan its interior. She looked around slowly several for minutes gesturing Erin to silence without taking her eyes from the depths within. Erin watched her back with a mixture of confusion and apprehension. Just what was she expecting to see? Was she afraid that someone or something was going to leap out at them?

  Marsha nodded to herself, apparently satisfied with what she saw or perhaps didn’t see. As they continued through the park, she would quietly wave Erin forward, and together they slipped passed the mouths of the shops as quickly as possible.

  They repeated these steps every time they reached another shop. Their trek continued forward at a maddeningly slow pace. Fear overcoming her urge to remain quiet, Erin finally whispered, “What are you searching for? Do you think Evan will be in one of these shops?”

  Marsha shook her head. “No. Evan won’t be in one of these buildings” she asked.

  Erin’s voice caught in her throat. “Then what are you looking for?”

  “There are creatures here much like the one in the other place, but not nearly as powerful. Still, they are far more numerous, malicious, and cunning. It’s them that are watching us. I know you sense them.”

  Erin’s head whipped around searching.

  “You will not be able to see them unless they want you to, especially now.”

  She tore her eyes away from her surroundings to look at her mother. “Why especially now?”

  “They are creatures of pure dark and evil. They cannot abide the light in any form. So they hide in any shadow that they can find until the darkness comes.”

  “What happens when the darkness comes?”

  Marsha looked at her. “They will be free to roam, and our danger will increase exponentially.”

  "What will we do when that happens?"

  Marsha let the question hang for an awkward moment. Then she said, “We need to pick up our pace now so that we can leave this place before the darkness enfolds on us."

  They pressed into a space between shops where there was a broken-down teacup ride on one side and part of the lazy river on the other. One of the teacups was tipped over and lying on its side. Another lay at an odd angle from where it had derailed off the track. All of the teacups were filled to their l brims with dead leaves.

  The familiar Tssh of leaves drew Erin’s attention. She screamed as one of the teacups stirred, causing the leaves to spill over the top. She pointed at the cup as she backed away. "There's something in that cup!"

  Something grabbed her shoulder and she screamed again. Instinctively she whirled around to strike her perpetrator. Marsha effortlessly caught her offending hand by the wrist. Her mother was looking past her and directly at the teacups with a speculative expression. "Yes, there is something there. I think we can assume that there is something in each one of the cups. Frankly, I’m more concerned about the ones that are directly behind you.”

  Erin whipped her eyes around, scanning for any signs of hidden creatures, but she couldn't see anything.

  "I was referring to the ones lurking in there." Marsha pointed down.

  Erin looked at her feet and saw that she was standing on the lip of the sidewalk, inches from accidentally plunging over its edge into the lazy river. She took a step back shuddering.

  Marsha scowled. "I think they were trying to scare you into falling into their clutches."

  She looked at her mother. "They can breathe underwater?"

  "I’m not sure they need to breathe at all,” Marsha said thoughtfully. "Come on. We need to keep going."

  Erin nodded and followed her. "Momma, how do you know so much about this place?"

  "As your guide, I have been given a certain amount of knowledge to assist you through this place. Plus I see things quite differently than you do. Unlike you I don't use my eyes to see or my ears to hear, I have transcended such physical mores. Verbally communicating with you is for your benefit, not mine.

  Erin paused. "You can read my thoughts?"

  "Sort of, but not really."

  "I'm sorry?"

  "I apologize for being cryptic again. Let's just say that I can read your mannerisms to the point that I can tell what you're thinking with a fair degree of accuracy."

  "That's . . . unsettling."

  "No." Marsha shook her head. "What's unsettling is that the things her
e are able to read you with a greater degree of accuracy than I can and they can project their thoughts directly into your mind."

  Erin shivered. "Like that thing in the dark."

  Marsha nodded. "They also know everything about you and your life."

  "They . . . know . . . everything about me."

  "Yes," Marsha said matter-of-factly.

  Erin's hand went reflexively to her abdomen. The movement did not go unnoticed by her mother. Marsha’s expression sobered. "I'm sorry, sweetie. They know about your baby's condition as well."

  Erin inhaled in a hiss and her lip began to quiver.

  Marsha gently took her chin. "You must understand that I’m not telling you any of this to can scare you. It's important for you to know so you can prepare yourself."

  "Prepare myself for what?" Erin asked with rising fear.

  "For whatever you must face. This realm will use anything against you. The forces entrenched here take sadistic joy in breaking the wills of those they trapped. So you must be prepared . . . for anything." Marsha finished speaking in a whisper as she stared at something behind Erin with wide eyes.

  Erin turned to follow her mother's gaze. "What is it?" She froze as she found the object of her mother's attention.

  "Are those what I think they are?" she breathed.

  Marsha nodded slowly, not taking her eyes away. What had appeared out of nowhere on the ground was a pair of shiny red stilettos. While Marsha’s expression became stony, Erin stared at them as if they were a poisonous thing ready to snap at them if they dared to get close enough. Wordlessly, both women veered around them staring at them suspiciously. Once they passed the shoes, they both increased their pace until they rounded the bend of the nearest shop and the footwear was out of view.

  They both visibly relaxed. They caught each other's reactions and their eyes met. In unison, they looked away as the years of shame and tension suddenly bubbled to the surface, wedging an unseen wall between them.