by Aiden James
“‘What the hell’s going on here, Grandpa?’ he demanded. ‘Why do we have to close the windows, and what the fuck do you need a shotgun and rifle for, anyway??’
“Grandpa shook his head. Only a minute or so passed, but seemed like forever. When he tried to answer Jeremy, he seemed at a loss for words. The uncomfortable air around us thickened.
“He walked over to the sink, closing the kitchen window and securely latching it. Then, he walked back over to the storm door and peered through that window once more, carefully scanning the porch and backyard for a second time.
“‘It’s the ‘Season’, boys,’ he said, finally.
“Jeremy and I looked at each other for clarification as neither of us knew what he meant.
“‘The ‘Season’?’ Jeremy asked, incredulous.
“‘Yeah, Grandpa,’ I chimed in. ‘What kind of ‘Season’ do you mean?’
“‘Just go close all the windows first and make sure the doors are locked upstairs, Jack. Jeremy, you and I’ll check everything down here on the main level. Once we’ve got the place completely secured, I’ll tell you both a little about the ‘Season’,’ he said. ‘Oh, and Jeremy, remember the Winchester. Make sure it’s loaded.’
“He motioned for us all to move out of the kitchen.
“‘We’ll all meet back here when we’re done…. Jack, don’t forget about the ac, now.’
“‘I won’t, Grandpa,’ I assured him.
“‘Jeremy, be sure to check the windows on the north and west sides of the main floor,’ he reminded my brother. ‘I’ll check the windows everywhere else down here.’
“‘Got it, Grandpa,’ said Jeremy.
“The three of us left the kitchen, with Jeremy shrugging his shoulders after I gave him a look asking if he had any idea why we were doing this. Bewildered by our grandfather’s peculiar behavior and strange request, at least the air conditioner would soon cool the old house.
“I ran upstairs and hurried to finish my task. Meanwhile, Jeremy started in the dining room and worked his way to the living room, where he grabbed the Winchester and ammunition from the gun case.
“Grandpa waited at the kitchen table with his shotgun by the time Jeremy rejoined him. He told my brother to set the rifle next to the back door after first confirming the weapon was loaded. They heard me running down the hall toward them right after the air conditioner kicked on.
“‘All done, Grandpa!’ I proudly announced.
“‘Very good, son,’ he said. ‘We’re all set to defend ourselves should we need to.’
“Though always a handsome man, he looked like he’d aged several years since dinner. His light gray eyes were still red from his recent tears, but the calm steadiness one could usually expect was rapidly returning.
“‘Defend ourselves? From what??’ Jeremy demanded again.
“He truly hated Grandpa’s vagueness and was in no mood for any more mysteries. Just the facts, and only those that explained why we sat in the kitchen with a pair of loaded weapons and every door and window in the house closed and secure.
“‘Let me begin by saying I’m truly sorry for breaking down like I did in front of ya’ll,’ said Grandpa, dabbing at his eyes with a hankie. ‘This evening’s events have truly upset me, and if something bad were to happen to either of you boys….’
“He paused to take a deep breath, and then regarded us both very seriously.
“‘I want your promise to stay away from the woods. For now, this includes the backyard as well.’
“‘Why, Grandpa??’ asked Jeremy, even more irritated. ‘First of all, you go throwing that thing Jackie brought in here tonight out into the woods somewhere—which could be worth a fucking fortune for all we know. Then, you bring up some shit about the ‘Season’ and whatever the hell that is. Now, you’re telling us to stay away from the woods—which, if you’d stop and think about it, you’d realize neither one of us has ever even visited the woods out back.’
He shook his head in disgust.
“‘I mean, you’ve never even taken us hunting back there, ain’t that right? We’re always going to some place or another near Tuscaloosa or Demopolis for that type of shit. And, what’s up with the backyard? Why in the hell do we have to stay out of there, too? Have the aliens finally come back for their fucking sphere, or something?? I mean, come on!!!’
“I remember how Grandpa glared at Jeremy, refusing at first to respond to the barrage of insolent questions. He looked away from him and over at me, sitting wide-eyed in my chair, still overwhelmed by the day’s wonderful events and ever hopeful he’d somehow help make sense of all that’d happened so far. He smiled before turning his attention back to Jeremy.
“‘Perhaps you’re right about the sphere, son, or maybe you’re not,’ he said. ‘I reckon I’ve spent thousands of hours wondering if it had anything to do with the ‘Season’, or if it did come from outer space, or any of a hundred other places—I don’t really know. All I do know is that the ‘Season’ has been an event around these parts for a long, long time. Long before that damned sphere showed up in the backyard, that’s for sure.’
“He hesitated, as if worried he’d shared too much information.
“‘The legend of the ‘Season’ is very old,’ he advised, speaking slower as if screening his words before they escaped from his mouth. ‘The foreshadowing for it is often some sort of token that’s recognized as not being from around here. That thing Jack brought in here tonight? Could be something like it, or maybe not. Regardless, knowing the ‘Season’s legend was all the reason I needed to get rid of the damned thing. It didn’t feel right, keeping it in the house…. I mean it felt evil. Even if ya’ll don’t agree right now, perhaps someday you’ll both look back and realize I did the right thing.’
“Tears welled in his eyes again. The tip of the iceberg was all he’d divulged—I believe we both knew that. But, since this brought such obvious emotional pain to him, I knew he wasn’t going to reveal much more to us that night.
“Not wanting to upset him further, I didn’t ask any more questions. But I was extremely curious about the ‘Season’ and its legend. I especially wanted to know whether any of this could be related to my parents’ sudden disappearance twelve years earlier. It made sense, but I wanted confirmation from him.
“‘Grandpa...does this so called ‘Season’ have anything to do with what happened to Mom and Dad?’
Jeremy broached the subject, and obviously, I was only slightly disappointed he’d done so.
“Grandpa regarded us both solemnly again.
“‘Perhaps,’ he offered, ‘I don’t know for sure…. But, that alone should make a strong enough case to stay away from the woods and the backyard for the present time.’
He scooted his chair back and stood up from the table. He walked over to the back door and peered through the storm door’s window once more. Outside, the early evening light faded to twilight. It would be dark soon, and gaining the upper hand on something sinister was disappearing as quickly as the day’s light.
“‘Jack’, he said, still staring out the window. ‘Tell me once again about the lizard you saw today.’
“Before responding I glanced at my older brother. Being ridiculed once fulfilled my daily quota for embarrassment, I’d decided, willing to wait it out until Jeremy gave me his assurance he’d be merciful to the storyteller this time.
“‘What??’ he snapped, irked again by me staring at him. ‘What in the hell’s up with you now, Jackie?’
“‘I think Jack’s expecting some common courtesy from you, son, before he starts telling his story again,’ Grandpa explained. ‘You’d be wise to let him finish uninterrupted. At least I’d appreciate it.’
“Jeremy sighed and rolled his eyes. ‘Let’s just get this over with quick, all right?’
“They both looked over at me, and this time my brother did seem more interested in what I had to say about the strange lizard in the backyard. I would’ve relished the moment had thi
s been the first time I told my story. But I could hardly wait to finish. This only exasperated my grandfather, who made me repeat several points and give him more specific details. Finally, once I’d finished my second narrative, I leaned back in my chair at the kitchen table and awaited the critical reviews, fidgeting again as my audience stared back in silence.
“Grandpa spoke first.
“‘I was hoping to see if the critter you saw today matched anything else that’s ever been reported around here, Jack’, he said. ‘I don’t think I’ve read or heard about any lizards or anything else quite like that. I mean, the Indians around here used to trade wild stories about giant leeches and serpents living in or around the Black Warrior and Tombigbee rivers, but no unusual lizards. At least none I know of. I should’ve gotten up off my lazy butt earlier and taken a good look at the damned thing when it sat on the porch. But, that other thing you brought in here this evening....’
“He again looked outside into the growing darkness, turning the porch light on along with the backyard floodlights for a better view. Once satisfied there wasn’t anything amiss for the time being, he shrugged his shoulders and turned his attention back to us, both still seated at the kitchen table. Jeremy stared blankly at the wall behind me. As quiet as a church mouse, I would’ve bet my life he was wondering where exactly Grandpa had thrown the mysterious object.
“‘Well, if I do catch sight of anything like what you saw earlier today, I intend to fill its sorry hind end with buck shot,’ he advised, moving back over to us. ‘I reckon it’d be better, though, if the damned thing just stayed away from here. Period!
“‘Anyway, I’m taking the shotgun with me to the living room as I’m sure either one of you boys can handle the Winchester just fine if that lizard or anything else tries to come through the back door.’
“He headed for the dining room, which sat adjacent to the kitchen, glancing back toward us just before disappearing from our view on his way to the living room.
“‘On second thought, why don’t you boys join me?’ he called from the dining room. ‘I’m sure we’ll be up to the task of responding if needed, and I believe the Braves are on television tonight. Be sure to bring the rifle, so we’ll have it handy.’
“I stood up and noisily pushed in my chair toward the kitchen table, drawing another irritated look from my brother who stood up with me. I caught up with Grandpa as he stepped into the living room. Jeremy lingered in the kitchen for a few minutes longer as he needed another cigarette. But once done clearing a few dishes from the dinner table, he grabbed the Winchester and joined us.
***
“Are you still with me so far, Agent McNamee?” asked Jack. “I’m probably boring you to death with this shit.”
“Not at all,” Peter assured him. “There are quite a few references to this ‘ Season’ your grandpa mentioned in the books I brought, so again, everything you’re talking about has relevance for me…. Are you ready for another Coke? I see you’re done with the one you’ve got in your hand. I’m afraid that poor can’s about to be split in two, by the looks of it.”
“Yeah, I guess it is,” Jack replied, slightly embarrassed. He hadn’t noticed the torn seam across the empty can’s middle, and set it down near the recorder. “I might have another one in a little while, but I’m okay right now. You sure you don’t just want the ‘Cliff Notes’ version of my story instead, to speed this up a bit?”
“Definitely not, Jack.” Peter chuckled warmly. “Your story seems to be working fine this way. You’ve got a captive audience sitting here, so please continue.”
“Well, all right…. The living room was by far the largest room within our farmhouse, bearing much the same design originally built with so many years ago. A twelve-foot ceiling with hand engraved moldings similar to those in the kitchen and dining room. As I mentioned earlier, Grandpa had done some recent remodeling in the house, and the living room received quite a facelift.
“He kept the large mahogany gun case that had been passed down for generations, and also a large oak bookcase that belonged to his mother. Almost everything else was new. Though determined to keep our home’s rich heritage intact, he spared no expense in redecorating the room with new furniture, draperies, rugs, and designer lighting to go along with a large home-theatre system.
“Jeremy came into the living room and found that Grandpa and I’d taken our preferred places. Me on the right side of the over-stuffed sofa and Grandpa in his recliner-rocker, already with a magazine in one hand and his pipe and tobacco pouch in the other.
“Jeremy took his spot at the far left end of the sofa. Neither of us cared for the middle, as a portrait of our great-great-grandmother hung above the sofa. The antique mirror above the mantel across the room leaned in just enough to provide whoever sat in that unenviable spot a clear view of her sullen stare. We tried to make Grandpa get rid of it, or at least move the portrait to another room, but he wouldn’t do it. He told us he wasn’t ready to part with his beloved grandma’s image. I think now he simply enjoyed watching our reaction whenever we caught a glimpse of her looking at us.
“‘The game may be on already, boys,’ I remember him saying. ‘Why don’t one of you turn on the television and find out for sure.’
“Jeremy picked up the remote from the coffee table and turned on the TV, while I confirmed in the satellite guide that the game had already started. An instant later, our quiet living room was filled with the sound of the roaring crowd at Turner Field, along with the announcers’ animated play by play. Within minutes, this single event at least temporarily displaced the recent bizarre events. Occasionally, Grandpa would look up from his magazine to verify the score and current inning.
“Despite his seeming indifference, he got up from the recliner once thirty minutes had passed since we’d left the kitchen. He didn’t return to the living room for a good ten minutes, indicating to me that he’d thoroughly surveyed both floors of the house before reclaiming his pipe, magazine, and favorite chair again.
“He maintained this routine for nearly two hours before I began to nod off. Reasonably certain we were in no immediate danger, he encouraged me to head upstairs to bed. Despite my weariness, I managed to flick on every light along the way up to my bedroom. The upstairs really was that spooky at times, and I often wished that either my grandfather or my surly brother would join me, at least until I’d reached the safety of my room. But Grandpa slept downstairs and Jeremy rarely went to bed before the wee hours. I’d learned to cope with the shadows, bumps, and noisy creaks as best I could.
“When I reached my bedroom I quickly closed the door behind me. Even in darkness it was my sacred hideaway. None of the spookiness or creepy feelings ever followed me there.
“I remember the moon was one night shy of its fullness, and beams of white light poured into my room, clearly illuminating everything around me. I got undressed, but before I crawled into my bed, I walked over to my window and looked out toward the majestic oak in the backyard. During the summer months, all I could usually see was the great expanse of the oak and its dense foliage. Only in fall and winter was I apt to find a clear view of the woods rising beyond the backyard’s rear wall.
“That night, however, I could see part of the wood’s tree-line glistening in the moonlight through gaps in the oak tree’s leaves and branches. A gentle breeze pushed the branches back and forth, revealing even more of the woods’ beauty than I’d expected to see, thanks to the brilliant light from the moon. At least that’s what I originally thought it was.
“I pressed my face against my window for a better look. It wasn’t ‘white’ like the moon beams. A golden hue, through the small gaps in the oaks’ branches I could tell this unusual radiance was extremely bright. It seemed to grow even brighter by the second and soon rivaled the very brightness of the sun. The entire oak became a darkened silhouette in front of it.
“I stood in awe and at first couldn’t move. I wasn’t even aware my mouth had fallen open, and couldn’t
control the soft moaning sound coming from deep within my throat. I finally managed to look away, but not before I heard my grandfather call to me from the bottom of the staircase.
“‘Are you okay, Jack?’
“‘Yeah, Grandpa. I’m fine!’
“I moved over to my bedroom door. Just about to open it, the golden light receded, and disappeared altogether within the next few seconds.
“I walked over to the window and peered out into the backyard again. A much softer glow hovered near the edge of the woods where Grandpa had thrown the thing earlier. I stood there, wondering if I should alert him and Jeremy about the light’s presence. I didn’t want to upset my grandfather again and felt certain that my brother would climb over the wall to retrieve the object most likely responsible for the strange light. Yet, if I didn’t tell anyone, what would happen if the light was sinister?
“The light continued to dim, and since Grandpa was likely on one of his surveillance rounds when he called up to me, I decided to let the matter rest. It could probably wait until breakfast the next morning, unless he or Jeremy encountered something bad before then. I seriously doubted either one saw the light, despite how bright it was.
“I stood at the window for a few more minutes, but all that remained was the moon’s natural luminance. I finally moved over to my bed and crawled under the covers. I remember how the moon’s glow filled every inch of my room that night, clearly illuminating everything around me including the cherished pictures of my mom and dad on top of my dresser. I drew comfort from having those photographs close by, never giving up hope my parents would someday return.
“Thinking about them I started to drift off to sleep. A wild animal, perhaps a wolf, cried out from the nearby woods. Soon after, I was drawn into a restless night of strange dreams.”