“‘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 here 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. I mean a very long time...long before that damned sphere showed up in the backyard, that’s for sure.’
“Grandpa hesitated as if he suddenly realized he was about to divulge more information than he wanted. He paused thoughtfully and then continued, carefully selecting his words as if screening them before they escaped from his mouth. ‘The legend of the ‘Season’ is very old, as I said, and the foreshadowing for it is often some sort of token that is easily recognized as not being from these parts. That thing Jack brought in here? ‘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 y’all don’t agree with me right now, perhaps someday you both will look back and realize I truly did the right thing.’
“Tears were beginning to well in his eyes again. The tip of the iceberg was all he’d divulged to us—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.
“I didn’t wish to upset him further, so I didn’t ask any more questions. But I was extremely curious to know more about the ‘Season’ and its legend. I was especially interested as to whether the lizard, the golden object, and the sphere were all somehow connected to one another, as well as to my parents’ sudden disappearance thirteen years earlier. It made sense to me, but I wanted to hear confirmation of this from Grandpa.
“‘Grandpa...does this so called ‘Season’ have anything to do with Mom and Dad’s disappearance?’ It was Jeremy who broached the subject, and obviously, I was only slightly disappointed he’d done so.
“Grandpa regarded us both thoughtfully for a moment before he answered him. ‘Perhaps,’ he offered, ‘but, I don’t know for sure. It might, though—I’ll be honest with you on that. It should make a stronger case for y’all staying away from the woods and the backyard for the present time.’
He scooted his chair back and stood up from the table. He walked back over to the back door and peered through the door’s window once more. Outside, the early evening light was rapidly fading into twilight. It would be dark soon, and if there really was anything sinister lurking about our place, he surely realized the opportunity in gaining the upper hand was disappearing as quickly as the day’s light. ‘Jack’, he said, still staring out through the window. ‘Tell me once again about the lizard you saw today.’
“Before responding to my grandfather, I glanced cautiously at my older brother. Being ridiculed once fulfilled my daily quota for embarrassment tolerance, I’d decided, and I was willing to wait it out until Jeremy gave me his assurance that he’d be courteous and merciful to the storyteller this time.
“‘What??’ Jeremy snapped, again unnerved 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 wiser to let him finish uninterrupted. I know I’d appreciate it.’
“Jeremy sighed and rolled his eyes. ‘Let’s just get this over with quickly, all right?’
“Grandpa and Jeremy looked over at me once more, and this time Jeremy did seem more interested in what I had to say about the strange lizard in the backyard. I would’ve relished the moment if this had been the first time I told my story. As it was, 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 quietly again as my audience stared back at me in silence.
“Grandpa spoke first as Jeremy looked on. ‘I was hoping to see if the critter you saw today matched anything else that’s ever been reported around this area, Jack’, he said. ‘I don’t think I’ve read or heard about any lizards or anything else quite like that. I mean, I’ve heard that the Indians around here used to trade wild stories now and then about giant leeches and serpents living in or around the Tombigbee River, but no unusual lizards. At least none that I know of. I should’ve gotten up off my lazy butt earlier and taken a good look at the damned thing when it was sitting on the porch. But, that other thing you brought in here this evening...’
“He again looked outside into the growing darkness and then switched on the porch light as well as the backyard flood lights for a better view. Once he was satisfied there wasn’t anything amiss for the time being, he shrugged his shoulders and turned his attention back to us, as we were both still seated at the kitchen table. I recall that Jeremy stared blankly at the wall behind me. He was as quiet as a church mouse, and I would’ve bet my life’s savings 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,’ Grandpa advised as he moved 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 asked. ‘I’m sure we’ll be up to the task of responding if needed, and I do believe the Braves are on television tonight. One of y’all should go ahead and bring the rifle, so that we’ll have it handy.’
“I stood up and noisily pushed in my chair toward the kitchen table, drawing yet another look of irritation from my brother who stood up at the same time. I caught up with Grandpa and followed him into the living room. Jeremy lingered in the kitchen for a few minutes longer as he needed another cigarette. But once he was 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?” Jack suddenly asked. “I’m probably boring you to death with this shit.”
“Not at all, Jack,” said Peter. “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, smiling sheepishly again. “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 assured him, chuckling warmly. “On the contrary, your story seems to be working fine this way. You’ve got a captive audience sitting here before you, so please continue.”
“All right, then. The living room was by far the largest room within our farmhouse, bearing much of the same design it was originally built with so many years ago. The ceiling stood nearly twelve feet high with hand engraved moldings similar in design to those in the kitchen, dining room, and most of the main floor. As I mentioned earlier, Grandpa had done some recent remodeling in the house, and the living room received quite a facelift. Grandpa kept the large mahogany gun case that had been passed down for generations, and he left a large oak bookcase that had belonged to his mother. Almost everything else was new. Although he was 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, sight and sound system.
“Jeremy came into the living room and found that Grandpa and I had taken our preferred places: Myself on the right side of the over-stuffed sofa and Grandpa in his recliner-rocker, already with a magazine in his one hand and his pipe and tobacco pouch in the other. Jeremy took his own spot at the far left end of the sofa. Neither of us cared much for the middle, as a portrait of our great-great-grandmother sat above the sofa. The antique brass-framed mirror that hung above the mantel across the room leaned inward just enough to provide whoever was sitting in that unenviable spot with a clear view of her sullen stare. My brother and I tried to get Grandpa to get rid of the picture, or at least move it to another room, but he wouldn’t do it. He told us he wasn’t ready to part with his grandma’s portrait. 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 Grandpa saying to us. ‘Why don’t one of you turn on the television and find out for sure.’
“Jeremy picked up the remote control from the coffee table in front of the sofa and turned on the television, 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 had at least temporarily displaced the recent bizarre events, as Jeremy and I were soon engrossed by the game while our grandfather slowly leafed through his chosen magazine for the evening. Occasionally, he would look up to verify the score and current inning.
“Despite his seeming indifference, Grandpa 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. After he was reasonably certain we were in no immediate danger from anything that might still be lurking outside the house, he encouraged me to head upstairs to bed. Despite my sleepiness, I managed to flick on every light along the way up to my bedroom. I despised the upstairs spookiness, and often wished that either my grandfather or my surly brother would join me, at least until I’d reached the safety of my bedroom. But, since Grandpa’s bedroom was downstairs and Jeremy rarely went to bed before the wee hours of the morning each night, I’d learned to cope with the shadows, bumps, and noisy creaks as best I could—regardless of the fact I was by then a teenager and no longer a mere child.
“After stopping briefly in the bathroom to brush my teeth, I moved swiftly to my bedroom, opening and then closing the bedroom door the very instant I was safely inside my room. Even in darkness, this was my sacred hideaway. This was my refuge, as none of the spookiness or creepy feelings that existed in various points throughout the house 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, like I mentioned earlier, was I apt to find a clear view of the woods rising beyond the backyard’s rear wall.
“That night, however, I was able to see part of the wood’s tree-line glistening in the moonlight through the 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 the glass pane of my window for a better look at the light. It wasn’t ‘white’ like the moon beams were. The light was golden in color and, through the small gaps in the oaks’ branches, I could tell this unusual light 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 this magnificent light.
“I stood in awe at this strange spectacle and at first couldn’t move. I wasn’t even aware my mouth had fallen open. Nor was I fully aware of the soft moaning sound coming from deep within my throat. I finally managed to look away, but not before I heard my grandfather calling to me from the bottom of the staircase.
“‘Are you okay, Jack?’
“‘Yeah, Grandpa. I’m fine!’ I replied, and moved quickly over to my bedroom door. I was just about to open it, when all at once the golden light that’d begun to fill my bedroom suddenly receded, and nearly disappeared altogether within the next few seconds.
“I walked over to the window and peered out into the backyard again. All that remained of the mysterious light was a much softer glow hovering near the edge of the woods where my grandfather had thrown the strange object earlier that evening. I stood there wondering what I should do next, as I wasn’t sure if I should alert Grandpa and Jeremy about the light’s presence. I didn’t want to upset my grandfather again and I was certain that my brother would’ve climbed over the wall and tried to retrieve the object that most likely caused the strange light. Yet, if I didn’t tell anyone about this, what could happen if the light was more sinister than beautiful?
“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. I figured it could probably wait until breakfast the next morning, unless Grandpa or Jeremy encountered something unusual before then. I seriously doubted either one had seen the magnificent light, for I would’ve surely known it by now.
“I stood at the window for a few more minutes until the golden light completely disappeared. All that remained was the natural glow from the moon as it continued to bathe the earth below in its light. Satisfied that my home was safe for the present time, I moved over to my bed and quickly crawled under the covers.
“Once comfortable, I peered out toward the window once more. The light from the moon filled my room, illuminating nearly everything around me including the cherished pictures of my mom and dad that I kept on top of my dresser. I drew comfort from having those photographs close by, and never gave up hope my parents would someday be found alive.
“I laid there awhile thinking about them and all that had happened that day, until finally I drifted off to sleep. I remember thinking I heard a wild animal like a wolf crying from somewhere in the woods. Soon after, I was drawn into a night of strange dreams.
PART III
The Appointed Journey
“I must say, Jack, what I’ve heard so far has already made this evening’s visit worthwhile!” Peter enthused. “There are quite a few references to the ‘‘Season’’ in the books I brought, by the way. Perhaps there’ll be other things in your story that will tie in with each volume as well.”
Jack smiled wanly. Although intrigued by what the agent told him, he still wondered if he was really doing the right thing. Retelling his story seemed to revive painful memories buried deep within his psyche.
“Well?” said Peter after Jack sat in silence for nearly a minute. “Are you ready to continue?”
“Yes. I think so,” said Jack, drawing in a deep breath and releasing it slowly.
“Do you need to eat something first?” Peter asked him. “It’s that time, I believe, and your mention of a spaghetti dinner got me thinking about food. Your grandpa must be a pretty good cook then, huh?”
“He’s the best, in my biased opinion.”
“Indeed... Well, are you hungry?”
“I am,” said Jack. “But, I want to get this over with first.”
“All right. I believe I can wait until then as well,” said Peter. “Proceed.”
“It’d been a restless night for me,” said Jack. “The next morning I woke up clutching my pillo
w near the foot of my bed and I felt really tired. I remember lying there, stretching and yawning while listening to the throng of birds that sang noisily in the oak tree out back.
“‘Hey, Jack! Get up son! Your breakfast is getting cold!’ Grandpa called from downstairs.
“I could hear the clanking of silverware, plates, and dishes along with the muffled voices of my brother and grandfather down in the kitchen. I hurriedly got myself dressed and ran downstairs.
“‘Good morning, Jack,’ Grandpa told me. ‘Your breakfast is already on the table.’
The aroma of eggs and bacon filled the air as my grandfather set the last steaming plate of scrambled eggs upon the kitchen table. Jeremy looked up from the sports page of the morning newspaper just long enough to nod an acknowledgement to my continued existence.
“‘Good morning, y’all,’ I said, and walked up to the table and sat down. As was usually the case, a short row of cereal boxes was lined up near my place setting. Grandpa handed me a small plate of bacon and eggs and I poured myself a bowl of cereal to go with this. I felt unusually hungry that morning and I eagerly dug into my food, wiping my eyes with my free hand to remove the last remaining traces of sleep from them.
“‘How’d you sleep, son?’ Grandpa asked me. ‘Looks like you’d rather have stayed in bed and slept awhile longer.’
“‘I’m fine, Grandpa,’ I assured him. But as I sat there eating my breakfast, strange images kept racing though my mind—very strange and terrifying images. I was remembering bits and pieces of my dreams from the past night. I knew they all related back to the lizard and the mysterious golden object from the previous day.
“While I sat there at the table, I caught glimpses of a magnificent city with large buildings that reminded me of ancient ruins in Mexico and South America that I’d seen pictures of during the past school year. The images faded quickly from my mind, but for the moment, I lingered on a small group of uniquely handsome men and beautiful women standing near the top of a massive gold pyramid. I stood near the bottom of the pyramid’s steps, looking up toward this group as they gazed back down at me in amusement.
The Golden Talisman Page 8