Window in the Earth Trilogy

by Fish, Matthew

  Window in the Earth Trilogy

  Book 1: A Window in the Earth

  Book 2: A Window in the Darkness

  Book 3: A Window in the Earth: Revisited

  A Window in the Earth

  By Matthew Fish

  Copyright 2011 by Matthew Fish

  To: James Janes

  The Alena Cave at the Old Janes House

  Pine Hallow, Missouri

  May 18th, 1997

  Dear James,

  Where do I begin? Where do I even start? There are things that I have thought long and hard about pretty much each and every day after everything that has happened. I promised you that I’d keep in touch, and this letter, although hard to write, is the first of many more I plan to write to you. Honestly I don’t know where to begin, so I’ll just go with whatever comes to mind, I guess.

  You know, the other day I tried to look up Pine Hallow on the internet (you know what that is, right?), and I found no mention of it anywhere. This letter should really be a huge pain for the postal service to get to you. I still plan on coming by someday and visiting. Lord knows that I want to; it’s just that everything has been so crazy. Sometimes I’m not even sure of what really happened that summer. I really wish things were different, but I guess it’s just as father used to say, “Things that change change because we are people who have no authority to change them.”

  I’ll write more when I get the chance. Hopefully, I’ll be coming down there soon. I deeply hope that we can meet again, and just talk about everything.

  With much love,

  Christopher

  Chapter 1: A Home for New Hopes

  Seven steps from the front porch, sixteen steps to the road, thirty more to the first turn, and then five-hundred miles to home.

  It was late summer in 1993 and both of Christopher Janes and James Janes’ parents were dead. The two were told that it was an “unfortunate car accident” involving a drunk driver; however, neither was given many specifics about it. Christopher was closer to fourteen than thirteen and James had turned fifteen a few months ago. Given their young ages, the rest of their family had felt that it was way too early and far too messy to get in to the finer details of how it exactly had happened, so they were spared the play-by-play of how the drunk driver in the other vehicle had crossed over the median on I-55 heading south and hitting them head on, killing their father instantly, and how their mother, who had survived the initial collision, ended up fighting for three hours in the ER before finally slipping away. Later in life, Christopher, when finally told, would not refer to it as an unfortunate accident at all, yet a sad, careless form of murder.

  It was decided that the best place for brothers would be with their grandfather, Mathias, out in the Ozarks. Although born Mathias Janes, he was commonly known among family and friends affectionately, if not strangely, as “Grandpa Bones.” He was a good-tempered man in his early seventies who had two red hunting dogs and had served his country in the often-forgotten Korean War; at least, those were the only two qualities that Christopher and James knew him by. Upon further questioning by Christopher, he deemed it very likely that this small bit of information was the only thing that his aunt actually knew about Grandpa Bones. That, and as their aunt put it: “He has himself a nice little place out in the country—a beautiful place out there in the country. Pretty isolated, though, pretty well cut off out there.”

  Their Grandpa Bones lived alone in a two-story cottage-style house about eighty-odd miles from Springfield, Missouri. After the Korean War he longed for a peaceful, quiet life out in the country, something he had missed throughout all those noisy years of war and service. Bones’ wife, Catharine Shultz, had unfortunately passed away in the fall of 1989 to lung cancer. Unlike her husband, Catharine had been slightly reluctant to move out into the country. Having been born a city girl herself and grown up in Saint Louis, she was accustomed to a more modern lifestyle. However, it did not take long out there in the country to convince her to stay. It would be those quiet moments, out in the woods, when the sun was high above and the shadow of the leaves shimmered all around her, like the reflection of sun on water, that a calm, cool breeze that would break the silence of the leaves and promise to steal you away with it, if only you would just let it. She grew to love the woods, and she loved looking at the clear sky at night and seeing the stars, and the sounds of a world that wasn’t diluted and stamped out by man or machine. When she died, Bones buried her alone at the place she loved most, atop a large hill where the two would often sit and look out at the world. It was a nice spot where the trees broke just enough to frame out the hills around them. It was where Bones planned to be when he died as well.

  It was late at night as Christopher and James rode with their aunt to their new home, the road ahead of them as black as the road behind. Without the van’s lights, Christopher believed they would be lost to the darkness completely. “Are we much farther now?” he asked, gazing out the side window into the blackness.

  “Not much farther…about a half an hour more or so.” Aunt Lynn shifted her eyes to the rearview mirror and back to the road ahead. “I think you’ll really enjoy it there,” she added, not really knowing if they would indeed enjoy it, yet just saying it to be saying something. In all honesty she felt rather uncomfortable with the situation at hand. She, like most of the family, had not been close with the children or their parents. In all severe honesty, she felt that she had much better things that she could be doing at the moment than driving eight hours into the wilderness, and one of those were watching her late night shows on Cinemax. However, doing this did make her feel a bit better about everything, or at least made her look better to the rest of the family, and to her that was what really mattered.

  Christopher tried to think of some kind of reply, but then quickly decided otherwise. It was awkward for him as well. Too strange, too soon; things were just way too confusing and there was way too much to figure out. He looked over to his brother James, who was sleeping in the seat next to his. It seemed that James was always sleeping since their parents’ accident. Perhaps life was better in dreams, and so James was taking up a more permanent residence there. He was a year and a half older than Christopher. He was more artistic as well, and much more outgoing; however, his school attendance and marks seemed to suffer as a result of spending much of his school time engaging in sports. He was, after all, quite an accomplished soccer player. On the other hand, Christopher was much more booksmart and logical. He’d do much better in school, if he didn’t love videogames and Nintendo as much as he did. It wasn’t just too much Mario; it was too much Zelda, and way too much Final Fantasy. What reason was there to care about this one tiny real world, he supposed, when countless videogame worlds were out there and in need of justice, in need of a great man, in need of a hero? It was just so appealing to him, and so convenient that the hero was always Christopher. It made sense to him in a strange way: James slept and went into his dreams to escape reality; Christopher could be lost happily in the game world. At least there he could be an all-powerful white mage and cast “Holy”, toasting the asses off of everyone that offended him. Then he could cast a quick revival spell, probably “Life 2”, which would bring his parents back as healthy as they had been before the accident, and it would be guaranteed to work. If only it were that easy, Christopher thought to himself as he glanced once more at his dozing brother. I wonder what his dreams are like?

  “I do believe that we are here!” Lynn exclaimed with more than just a bit of relief. Christopher had been daydreaming again and the last half-hour had flown by amazingly fast. They cornered a sharp turn through tall pine trees, pulling into a rough driveway made of dirt and rock. The van bumped and rocke
d against the weathered, makeshift road as the air was filled with the sound of grinding gravel. “Well this is fun isn’t it?” Lynn remarked, being much more annoyed than amused.

  It was a bit of fun, actually, or at least Christopher thought so. Much more fun than the first eight hours or so of this trip had been. He was even a bit amused at Aunt Lynn’s annoyance; she had seemed rather uptight through the trip. She even managed to seem pretty uptight at the funeral. Secretly, he disliked her, although he’d never say it aloud. Christopher was a good judge of character, or at least he always felt that he had been. In a way he knew that Aunt Lynn didn’t care for him much either. So, in a way, everything evened out, even if it was unpleasant.

  “Shit,” Lynn muttered angrily at the loud, tinny rattle of rocks striking the undercarriage of the van. She shot a quick look into the rearview mirror to see if anyone had noticed this little slip of obscenity. Content that the brother’s possibly had not, she turned her fierce gaze once more to the road.

  Christopher chuckled quietly for a moment, making sure that he kept it to himself. He was getting more and more amused with each passing moment. What surprised him most about everything that was going on was that James had managed, and was still managing, to sleep through this whole noisy, bumpy series of events. James’ mouth was agape and he was drooling, his whole body seeming to vibrate as his head bobbled up and down on the backseat cushions. He was completely oblivious, like reality didn’t matter or even exist.

  How do you do it? Christopher thought. Since their parents had died, it seemed that the two had been much more separated than before, as if James had become a distant stranger. Christopher had always meant to ask just how it was possible that James was able to deal with everything—he just never seemed to make time to be with his little brother.

  “Finally!” Lynn brought the van to a jolting stop. Dust kicked out from beneath the vehicle’s tires, churning out a brown fog that billowed out behind them, making the night look all the more creepy.

  “You awake?” Christopher asked. He gave James a short nudge on the shoulder.

  “Yeah….”

  “We’re here.” Christopher slid the van door open, carefully stepping out onto the earthy stone driveway.

  “Yeah...,” James responded once more. He pushed himself up with one hand, violently attempting to rub his remaining fatigue from his bloodshot eyes with the other. He crawled out of the van on Christopher’s side and slid the door closed.

  “Here, take these,” Lynn said, handing four suitcases to the brothers, one for each hand, and returned once more to the vehicle to collect a large box from the back. She ran ahead of the two brothers, dropping the box next to the front door. She turned toward the door and began banging on it. “Come on, come on, answer….”

  Christopher and James stood behind their aunt, uneasily looking over their new surroundings. The air around them was filled with the sounds of crickets and frogs. A faint light shone through the small, dirty glass slits on the front door. It was definitely farther from any place they had ever stayed before. Not a streetlight or another automobile in sight. There were no familiar sounds of traffic—no honking horns, sirens, or stomping feet. No eager hums of electricity either, save for the van’s headlights, though they could barely be heard over the busy chorus of the creatures of the night.

  “Maybe he’s not home,” Christopher said, feeling really uncomfortable at the thought that this was going to be his new home.

  “I don’t believe this!” Lynn exclaimed. Her annoyance with the entire situation was slipping out more and more with each little test. “I spoke to him before we left; he said he’d be here.”

  “He’s here,” James said sleepily. He was straining to keep his eyes open.

  “You don’t know that, honey. He’s probably out drunk somewhere.” Lynn shook her head in disbelief. “This is why no one ever talks—”

  With that, the front door was flung open and the porch light flickered on, illuminating the darkness around them. There, clad in a red-striped and mostly stained set of pajamas, stood the venerable “Grandpa Bones”, in all his bedtime glory. Now, Grandpa Bones wasn’t your typical old grandpa type of person. Although at the ripe age of seventy-two, he kept himself in good shape and still might be considered handsome and fit, for an elderly sort of guy. He had a firm white smile he commonly wore, and had two tattoos: a beautiful lady on one arm and a black cat on the other. “Sorry, must have nodded out for a bit,” he said; “been waiting a while.”

  “Yeah, well, it’s been a long drive,” Lynn retorted, purposely showing her impatience.

  “Oh, of course, of course!” Bones reached over to help with the Janes brothers’ luggage, ignoring Lynn’s rudeness. He paused for a moment, suitcase in each hand, flexing his arm muscles. “See here, kids? Picked these up in the service of our country. Got myself a bullet in this one. Probably still there!”

  Christopher chuckled as he and James helped bring a large trunk into the house. His first impression of Grandfather Bones was a favorable one. Bones had a warmth and kindness to him that just seemed to radiate. In fact, for the first time in a long time, Christopher actually felt some faint sense of hope for everything, that maybe things were going to be okay after all.

  “I told you he was here,” James said as he lugged in his two heavy trunks.

  “Yeah, yeah…,” Lynn muttered as she fumbled through her purse. It was readily apparent that she had no intention of stepping inside. It seemed as though she was eager to get far away from the three of them and return to her life as soon as possible. Pulling out her keys, she turned to the others and nodded for no reason in particular. “Well…”

  “Of course!” Bones said, placing the luggage onto the floor. “Let’s say our goodbyes before we get packed in, right?”

  “It’s just that I’ve got a long way to go. You understand.”

  “Oh, definitely.” Bones reached into his pajama pockets and pulled out a small wad of cash. “For the gas and getting ’em here safely.” He handed Lynn the money.

  “Thanks,” Lynn answered plainly, as if she expected the handout.

  “I’ll take these suitcases up. Have a good trip back,” Bones added with a smile.

  “Right….” Lynn placed the money in her purse and looked to Christopher and James. “It was great seeing you guys again, I know that things have been real bad with—you know—everything that has been going on. I know we don’t really know each other well and all that. Well…you know.”

  “Yeah…,” James answered back, seeming apathetic.

  “Yeah, we know,” Christopher said. He didn’t exactly know how James felt about her, but he suspected James didn’t really care much for Aunt Lynn either, or rather, for as much as they knew of her. She was probably a nice person. Perhaps it was just that the situation at hand had brought them all into a place that neither one really wanted to be in. Even though her actions seemed selfish, it’s really hard to gauge someone on actions alone when dealing with uncomfortable situations.

  “Right…,” Lynn repeated as she readied herself, keys in hand. “Also, this probably isn’t permanent, you know. Everyone has a lot to work out on what to do with you two, you see?”

  “We get it,” James said, sounding pretty annoyed.

  “Right…,” Lynn said once more as she made her way back to the van. “I mean, he’s pretty old, so don’t give him too much trouble. And try and have some fun. I mean, that’s what is best for both of you right now.”

  “We’ll behave, don’t worry about us,” Christopher said. He watched Aunt Lynn crawl back into the van. Like you’d actually worry about us, he thought, watching as James completely ignored Lynn’s departure and entered the house. Christopher waved once to her and smiled. It was, after all, the polite thing to do.

  Christopher stood alone on the porch as he watched the red glow of the van’s two rear lights shrink into the night. For a moment, he thought about his old home back in Bloomington, Illinois. He thoug
ht about how completely different it was from this new home-to-be. It wasn’t a completely bad change, just a very different one, a change he hadn’t expected at all. It was just so strange to be somewhere and not see lights off in the distance, or to not see traffic on the roads. All in all, the silence of the woods was actually a little creepy, a little disorienting. There was one good point here that Christopher did enjoy, and that was the smell. It’s a funny thing to think about, but it definitely did smell much more pleasant here. The air just did not seem to be as crowded or tainted.

  Christopher was lost in thought; he had not even realized that James was back outside and standing behind him, looking off in the direction of the road they had followed there.

  “She gone?” James asked, knowing the answer but wanting to hear it anyway.

  “Yeah.”

  “She really sucked,” James said, smirking.

  The two chucked for a moment, for the first time in forever, or so it seemed to Christopher. At least James was able to find some sense of humor in all of this. After everything that had happened, Christopher had been worried that they might never have the ability to laugh at anything ever again.