Metamorphosis

by Sesh Heri

  The blank-faced man realized that the handwriting of this penciled note belonged to Harry Houdini. This was one of Houdini’s own scrapbooks, prepared by Houdini for some unknown purpose. But who was Eddy? The blank-faced man thought back to everything he had ever read or heard about Harry Houdini. Eddy…he could not place the name ‘Eddy.’ But ‘Lovecraft’— the blank-faced man knew that name. Lovecraft was a writer of horror stories, and he had been dead for a number of years and almost completely forgotten by the reading public. Why would Houdini want Lovecraft to see these codes?

  The blank-faced man picked up an envelope that lay against the back cover of the scrapbook. He opened the envelope and took out a newspaper clipping. The clipping was of an article from a Denver newspaper, dated February 12th, 1943, and entitled, “Bess Houdini Dies.” The blank-faced man quickly read the obituary. It stated that Mrs. Houdini died on board a train traveling between Los Angeles and Needles, California.

  February 1943, the blank-faced man pondered. He suddenly realized he had been up on the mountain for a very long time. What month was it? What year? He did not know. But he was determined to find out the day and the month and much more. He was determined to find out how the old man had gained possession of this strange scrapbook compiled by Harry Houdini. He was determined to find out why the old man had taken particular interest in the death of Bess Houdini. He was determined to find out just exactly who the old man was.

  The blank-faced man thought to himself: Who are you old man?

  The sound of footsteps approached from outside the cabin. The blank-faced man pushed the scrapbook back into the box, put the box back against the wall behind the chest of drawers, and then went over and lay back down on the bed. He had hardly lain down when the door of the cabin flew open and the old man came through it.

  “You’re friends are back!” the old man said, walking toward the peephole in the wall of the cabin. He looked through the telescopic lens and stood still for a moment.

  “It’s that big fellow,” the old man said. “Don’t see the other guy. No…looks like the big fellow is by himself, unless they’ve split up and the other one’s coming around the back way. Don’t know why they’d do that, but just ‘cause I don’t know, doesn’t mean they wouldn’t do it. People do all kinds of things that don’t necessarily make a bit of sense. Well, it sure looks like he’s alone. I’ll be ready either way, alone or not. Yes…he’s coming up the path. Better get you into the recess room.”

  The old man went over to the hidden panel, pressed it, and the wall of the cabin slid open revealing the ‘recess room.’ He then went over and pushed the bed upon which the blank-faced man was laying across the floor of the cabin. He got the bed into the ‘recess room,’ came out and closed up the wall again.

  The old man looked about the room, spied his army cot and dragged it across the floor of the cabin, just as he had done two months earlier. This time, however, he did not bother with the table or the books or with anything else. There was no time. The big man was outside already, knocking on the door. The old man stepped over to the door and opened it.

  “Hello,” the big man said, “remember me, old timer?”

  “Of course,” the old man said. “You’ve come to sup with me finally. Come right on in.”

  “Uh, that’s all right,” the big man said. “I can’t stay long. I just came to check on you to see how you’re doing. I’ve been worried about you.”

  “About me?” the old man asked. “Now that’s right kindly of you, friend, to be worried about me. When did you commence this worryin’?”

  “Oh,” the big man said, “a while. People down in town told me they hadn’t seen you for two or three weeks. We thought something might’ve happened to you. Thought you might be sick or something.”

  “Oh, no,” the old man said, “I’m not sick. Fact is I’ve been feeling quite well. It’s this mountain air. Clean mountain air is the best thing in the world for you. You should try it. Come up here and stay on the mountain for a month. You’d see. You’d be a different man.”

  “I’m sure I would,” the big man said.

  “Where’s your friend?” the old man asked.

  “He had to go home,” the big man said.

  “That’s too bad,” the old man said.

  “Yes, it is,” the big man said.

  “Huntin’s no fun all alone,” the old man said.

  “That’s true,” the big man said. “I’ll just have to make do.”

  “Still huntin’ deer?” the old man asked.

  “Um— no,” the big man said.

  “They’d be out of season now,” the old man said.

  “That’s right,” the big man said.

  “But there’s always something to hunt,” the old man said, “I suppose.”

  “Always something to hunt,” the big man said.

  The old man smiled and gave a nod.

  “Like the truth,” the old man said. “I’d say more than anything, you’re a fellow huntin’ for the truth. I can see it in your eyes.”

  “You can?” the big man asked.

  “Certainly,” the old man said. “You’ve got that far-away look in your eyes, like you’re seeing way past everything that don’t matter. You want to look right out and see what does matter. Don’t you?”

  “I suppose,” the big man said.

  “You’re just like me,” the old man said. “I got that far-away look, too. That’s what everybody has always told me.”

  “Yes,” the big man said. “I think I know what you’re talking about.”

  “You do?” asked the old man.

  The big man nodded.

  “Well,” the big man said, “I better be going.”

  “Busy,” the old man said.

  “Busy,” the big man said.

  “I understand,” the old man said. “It’s good to be busy, long as you’re not too busy. That’s not good.”

  “I’ll see you around, old timer,” the big man said.

  “Yes, indeed,” the old man said. “And you stop by again and check on me. I like that. Like to have somebody check up on me. See that I don’t get myself into any trouble.”

  “So long,” the big man said with a wave, and he turned and walked off.

  The big man had gotten down to the path through the forest when he heard footsteps coming up behind him. He turned, and saw the old man running down toward him with a piece of paper in his hand. The old man reached the big man and he stopped in front of him on the trail.

  “I wanted to give you this,” the old man said, and he held out a religious tract. “Here’s some food for thought. If you can’t sup with me— at least you can take some food for thought with you.”

  “Old timer,” the big man said. He reached out and took the religious tract and looked at it.

  “All right,” the big man said. “Thanks.”

  “Got to feed the spirit as well as the body,” the old man said.

  “Right,” the big man said. “I’ll read it.”

  “Good,” the old man said.

  “See you later,” the big man said.

  “See you,” the old man said.

  The big man turned and went on down the trail. The old man stood still watching the big man disappear into the forest. He kept standing there until he heard the car engine start far down below.

  “On your way, Mr. Snoop!” the old man said. He turned, went up the trail a few feet, stopped, and then turned around again. He listened to the sound of the car engine move away down the mountain.

  “And don’t come back!” the old man said.

  May 24th, 1943

  On the slope of Pike’s Peak near the old man’s cabin

  The door of the outhouse swung open and the blank-face man limped out, leaning on a cane. The old man stood nearby. When he saw the blank-faced man emerge from the outhouse, he went to him and took hold of his arm, steadying the blank-faced man as he walked.

  “Good,” the old man said. “You’
re making very good progress.”

  “Yaaah,” the blank-faced man said, as he struggled to place his steps in a straight line. He dragged his left leg with every step.

  “This is a lot better than using all those tubes,” the old man said. “We’re through with all that junk now.”

  “Yaaah,” the blank faced man said.

  The two of them limped up to the cabin and went inside. The old man helped the blank-faced man lay down on the bed.

  “Feel better now, don’t you?” the old man asked with a grin.

  “Yaaah,” the blank-faced man said.

  “You rest here now,” the old man said. “I’ll come back for you in a bit and help you walk over to the pyramid. Now that you’re walking, your recovery should be rapid. Another month, or even three weeks, and I’ll have you running the hundred yard dash and reading the Shakespearean sonnets. Yes, you’re going to be doing all right very soon! Now, you get some rest. I’ll be back in a while.”

  The old man went out. The blank-faced waited, listening, hearing the footsteps of the old man move away. This time the old man was going away from the pyramid, down the path that led through the forest. The blank-faced man had come to believe that the old man had another cabin down the mountain slope somewhere, and that was where he was going now.

  Finally, the blank-faced man got off the bed, and went to the space behind the chest of drawers to get the scrapbook. But when he reached for it, he only grabbed air. He looked down and saw that the box containing the scrapbook was gone. Then it occurred to the blank-faced man that the old man had probably taken the box containing the scrapbook out of the cabin some time during the night while he had been sleeping. The blank-faced man slept very lightly, and he realized that the old man must have been very stealthy when he had taken the scrapbook out of the cabin. Did the old man know that he had opened the box and looked inside the scrapbook? The blank-faced man had no way of knowing. He lay back down on the bed, and looked up at the ceiling, pondering the whole situation.

  The blank faced man thought: Who are you old man?

  Down the path in the forest the old man had walked many yards when he turned to his left and took another path which led to a little hillock on the side of the mountain. The base of this hillock was covered with bushes and appeared to be only another part of the undeveloped mountainside. But the old man reached down amidst the bushes and pulled on something, and the bushes pivoted back; the bushes were growing on to some kind of door. The old man opened the door all the way up, revealing a large earthen room with several small skylights camouflaged up at surface level with more bushes. The skylights were sealed off with windowpane glass. It was inside this room where the old man had been keeping his medical equipment and other machines, all carefully stored and covered in white sheets.

  The old man started forward into the earthen room, when he heard a twig snap behind him. He spun about.

  The big man was standing on the path behind him, looking straight at him.

  The two men stood looking at each other for several seconds, and then the big man slowly asked, “What’s all that?”

  The old man stood frozen, looking at the big man, and then he suddenly spun about and took off running in the opposite direction. The big man was amazed at the old man’s sudden speed; it was the speed of a rabbit or a deer.

  “Hey!” the big man shouted, and then started off down the trail after the old man.

  The two men ran along the path, the old man outdistancing the big man who quickly became winded in the high altitude.

  “Old timer!” the big man shouted. “It’s me! Your friend! Don’t be afraid!”

  The old man kept running. The big man saw an opening in the trees, a short cut to the path below, and a clearing beyond that. He ran down through the trees, came to the clearing, and in a moment loomed directly in front of the old man.

  “Hold it!” the big man shouted.

  The old man stopped. Both men breathed heavily.

  “Why are you chasing me?” the old man asked.

  “Why are you running?” the big man asked.

  “Who says I’m running,” the old man said. “You call that running?”

  “What do you call it?” the big man asked.

  “A stroll,” the old man said.

  “You call what you just did a stroll?” the big man asked.

  The old man nodded.

  “A mountain stroll,” the old man said. “Do it all the time.”

  “Why did you run?” the big man asked.

  The old man looked off over the big man’s shoulder. His brow creased ever so slightly. He looked back to the big man, then back over the big man’s shoulder again. The old man’s eyes widened slightly. He looked at the big man again.

  “What is it?” the big man asked. “What’s the matter?”

  The old man’s eyes darted quickly back over the big man’s shoulder, and then back to look the big man in the eyes. The old man’s eyes looked frightened.

  “What is it?” the big man asked, and he spun about quickly to look over his shoulder. He looked into the forest. He saw nothing. He turned back around. The old man was gone— completely gone.

  The big man literally jumped, then looked all around to the right and left.

  “Hey!” the big man bellowed.

  The old man was gone, nowhere to be seen. The old man had been standing in the middle of the clearing, and even if he had run off into the woods, the big man would have seen him and heard him. But the big man had seen nothing and heard nothing.

  The big man turned around quickly in a complete circle. The clearing was empty. The old man was no longer there.

  “Old timer!” the big man called. “Old timer! Where are you? Come on out! I’m not going to do anything to you! I just want to talk! Old timer!”

  The clearing remained silent and empty.

  And then—

  “What do you want?”

  It was the voice of the old man, coming from directly behind the big man.

  The big man slowly turned around and looked down. The old man stood in a crouching stance directly behind the big man.

  “Where have you been?” the big man asked.

  “Right here,” the old man said. “Right behind you all the time. Moving right at your back every time you moved. You see, friend, you don’t know how to look. You can see all right, but you don’t know how to look. Wish I could spend a day or two with you. I could teach you a few things. A fellow like you ought to know how to look.”

  “Why did you run?” the big man asked. “I just wanted to talk to you.”

  “Maybe I didn’t want to talk to you,” the old man said.

  “Now why do you want to say that?” the big man asked. “Don’t you want to tell me about the word of the Lord?”

  “Friend,” the old man said, “I know you don’t believe any of the crap I’ve been dishing you. I know you’ve come to throw the crap back in my face. Well, friend, I don’t like crap in my face. Bye.”

  And then, incredibly, the big man saw something he just could not bring himself to believe. From a complete stand-still the old man suddenly started running directly backwards into the woods at full speed, running directly backwards without looking backwards, as if he had eyes in the back of his head. The old man ran right through an opening in a tangle of bushes and blinked out of view. It was all so sudden the big man had no time to even draw a breath. The old man was gone before the big man could even find his voice, much less move.

  “Old timer!” the big man finally bellowed.

  But the old man was long gone.

  The big man started off through the tangle of bushes, and although he was running as fast as he could, he could not run as fast forward as the old man had been running backward.

  Amidst the tangle of bushes the big man suddenly stopped, and gasped a deep breath of air. The altitude was killing. The old man was gone, and the big man knew he had to stop and think— think very carefully. Nothing in his m
ilitary training had prepared him for dealing with someone like this old man. Although he had suspected from the start that there was much more to the old man than met the eye, he now realized that he had greatly underestimated the ‘old timer.’ The big man tried to get his mind to work at another level from what it had been working. He had to get up on the old man’s level— and quick. The big man thought that he had seen the old man run away in a direction opposite to that of the cabin. So where, wondered the big man, was the old timer running? He was running back to the cabin, running back to the cabin along a secret short-cut, that was what the old-timer was doing, the big man thought. He immediately turned back, found the original trail along which he had chased the old man, and ran along it at a brisk pace.

  The big man got back to where he had discovered the old man opening the camouflaged door to the earthen room. The old man had already back-tracked to this spot and closed the door back up. Now the big man could only see the hillock covered with bushes. He had no time to investigate this place further, but kept on running along the trail, and then up the main trail that led to the sheer face of the mountainside where the cabin and stone pyramid stood.

  Up on the mountainside the old man was making a final dash to the cabin.

  Suddenly the big man leapt in front of the old man and stood in front of the cabin door.

  The old man stopped and stared at the big man.