He stripped down just outside the front door and left his wet clothes on the hidden side of the porch. They’d dry when the weather cleared. He unlocked the door and headed for the shower, mind still racing, fragments going round and round, in a blur —
Maybe Jackie was right — could it be Fernando? Could he be copy-catting from Frank’s description? He was the only one that knew about Eli outside of Jackie… If Frank was any judge of character, he’d say definitely not. But after his gaffe with Eli, he didn’t trust his own judgment any more. Could Fernando be deceiving him? It just didn’t seem to fit… But children were disappearing, some of them dying—that much was fact in this random thought stew…
***
He slept in his robe on the couch and wouldn’t have waken up at all if it weren’t for a noisy motorcycle that blared by outside. Jackie had apparently slipped off to work without waking him — but she’d taken pity and left a sack lunch for him on the counter with a note wishing him a good day at work (and good luck with his hangover). She had obviously bought the bachelor party story — Good — He knew now there was no way he could tell her where he’d really been — He could hardly believe it himself…
He hadn’t gotten enough rest and a few people at work commented that he looked tired but at least he’d gotten there. His thoughts were still a bit muddied but getting clearer. One thing was certain — a murderer was on the loose and he and the others needed to be vigilant. He considered mentioning it to Keith but changed his mind. He’d learned that the best way to get along was to stay quiet. No one wanted to be told how to do their job—especially not by the new guy.
He went through the motions of his job and found that his senses seemed to be gradually sharpening as the day wore on. It was odd, considering his insufficient sleep and overall achiness, they actually felt heightened — and by the time the kids had recess he found himself constantly surveying the scene with this increased awareness like a soldier on guard duty — wary and watchful of every detail.
There was a predator out there, he kept thinking. But they’re not getting away with anything here — Not on my watch.
By the end of the school day, when the parents were picking up their kids, Frank was beat. The effects of the previous late night and the unusual exercise (to say the least) were taking their toll and his goodbye waves and smiles were strictly by rote — he was counting the minutes until he could beat it out of there and he intended to go right home and catch up on his rest so he’d be human when Jackie got back from work.
He remembered getting in the car, starting the engine and making his way out of the school parking lot. He remembered thinking he was so tired, he was functioning on automatic pilot and that he was probably a dangerous driver — all dulled senses and slowed perceptions.
When he pulled up in front of the convalescent hospital, he was surprised — this wasn’t even on his way home — What was he doing here? Now what?
His eyelids felt so heavy, he wasn’t sure he could drive any further if he wanted to. He needed to take a nap, it wouldn’t do any harm to take a little cat nap in his car and then continue the drive home later.
He stretched his neck and his sore arms and legs and settled back in the seat. Just a little nap — Just a little one…
The urge began in the background — slowly becoming more pressing. He had to go to the bathroom —
Now? Just when he was so comfortable and sleepy — He had to go now?
His bladder seemed to bulge insistently in response. Yes, now. You will get no rest until this is taken care of. Now.
***
It would’ve been so easy to sneak back out the way he’d come in after he’d used the bathroom, totally unseen. But he believed some of the things he’d read over the years about the subconscious mind.
He’d wound up here without planning it — Maybe it was for a reason? Maybe it was something his subconscious was trying to make happen for reasons that were yet to be revealed…
He wearily plopped down in one of the hallway chairs before even realizing it was the same chair he’d sat in that night over a week ago when he’d seen —
— He didn’t want to think about that. He just wanted to close his eyes and rest for a few minutes and then go find Fernando. The least he could do was say hello since he was here…
Maybe that’s what he was supposed to do — Maybe Fernando had something to tell him?
He didn’t even realize he’d drifted off when he felt something moving up his arm. He was half in- half out of dream state and having trouble surfacing — Was there a spider dancing up his shoulder towards his face? Separating fantasy from reality was difficult — But there was something there!
He sat upright in the chair and snapped open his eyes. Fernando was hunched over him, wiggling his fingers up his neck and laughing.
“Good morning, sunshine!” He said with a grin. “Nice threads, by the way.”
Frank was still trying to shake the sleep off as Fernando touched his suit lapel and tugged at his dated striped tie.
“Those kids really wear you out, huh?” He asked, eyes still laughing. “Or is it the wife?”
Frank nodded and grunted “Uh huh.”
He rubbed at his eyes — Still trying to come back… Still cloudy…
“So — what’re ya doin’ here?” Fernando asked.
“Uh, uh…” Frank said without fully grasping the question. His mind was having trouble engaging — Then finally, slowly: What was he doing here? Ah, yes — the hospital… Fernando…
“I wanted to see how everyone was doing… and you, of course.”
Frank stretched, cracked his knuckles—His head was almost clear.
“How’s Rachel?”
Fernando’s smile vanished and he looked instantly uncomfortable. He shook his head.
“Ah, man… She passed away… Couple days ago…”
There was that odd twang of loss and his intestines contracted like he’d been punched in the stomach.
Nooooooooo! Not Rachel! — He’d seen her so recently and she’d seemed so full of life…
His shaking hand went to his brow. The shock made him feel like crying.
“Ah, Christ…” was all he could manage.
Guilt quickly gnawed at him — Why hadn’t he come sooner? Just because his life was getting back on track didn’t mean he should disappear from the lives of these people he’d spent time with… And Rachel was his friend… And he’d abandoned her…
“Came outta no where, man.” Fernando continued. “She’d been a little sick but nobody expected…” He didn’t complete the sentence, shook his head again.
“How’d she…? What’d she die of..?” Frank asked quietly.
“Heart just gave out from what I heard. Went to sleep and never woke up. Happens sometimes…”
Fernando made a motion with his head to indicate that he needed to get back down the hall and that Frank should follow him. Frank got up, achy and wobbly, forcing his limbs to obey.
“Ya know, Frank — Most of her stuff’ll be tossed since she didn’t have no relatives. If ya want a memento or anything, I’m sure she’d of preferred you to the staff…”
Frank didn’t say anything, still digesting the tragic news. Rachel was dead. Rachel was actually dead…
They arrived at Rachel’s room to find the door wide open. Fernando checked his Disney watch.
“Anyways, you can look around if you want, Frank — Sorry but I gotta get back. Stop by before ya leave, okay?”
Frank nodded, somber.
Rachel was really dead. Eli, Lidia, and now Rachel..!
Fernando hurried away leaving Frank just standing before her open door.
Just wide open… inviting… Maybe that’s why I came back here..?
He stepped inside, just past the threshold and his eyes immediately fixed on the dusty mirror in the corner.
That’s where I saw it — That mangy black wolf-dog poised on Rachel’s chest — its saliva running onto the
sheets — with its yellow eyes and black lips pulled back in a snarl — Those long sharp teeth — And then it took that long slow leap directly through the mirror in a blinding flash of light when I rushed it... Directly THROUGH the mirror..!
He approached the mirror. He couldn’t even fully remember the details leading up to the incident, just the incident itself. It all seemed such a long time ago. He studied it at close range, stared at the dusty reflective surface from various angles. He knew logically that what he had seen here couldn’t have been real, just as he’d reconciled himself about many of the other oddities he’d “witnessed”. He’d come to believe completely what Jackie had said — They’d been a product of many things — Not enough sleep, overactive imagination, obsessive behavior…
His eyes tracked along the gloomy surface until they came to a long, thick, black dog hair protruding from the mirror.
But if that were true, what is this?
Was this hair really protruding? Or was it simply a piece of something that resembled hair that was stuck there?
He was tired… So tired… It would be all too easy for his imagination to click into gear and create impossible things again…
He stepped away, took a deep breath and rubbed his eyes.
There is no way that hair is lodged inside the mirror. No way. I will approach this scientifically. I’m tired, but I’m calm. It’s daylight and my vision is unimpaired. I have no fever from infection, my senses are intact. I will be coldly and impartially analytical.
He took his time returning to the curious item.
There must be objectivity.
He kept his emotions in check despite the fact that his heart wanted to beat its way out of his chest —
I must be absolutely realistic. I must be sure of myself and the results. Enough of this indeterminate nonsense and confusion.
He again examined the “hair” from a variety of angles. From every direction the results seemed the same. It indeed appeared to be partially in, partially out of the mirror.
How was that possible? What reasonable explanation could there be?
He strained but could think of none — Not one.
His emotions were starting to force their way back in.
It was the first real piece of empirical evidence he’d found. There was nothing speculative about this. It was there, in the full light of the room—just existing— when logically it simply couldn’t — COULD NOT.
He put his thumb and forefinger against it — It was coarse and absolutely real. There was no doubt. Sight and now touch confirmed it. He rested his cheek against the mirror at an extremely close angle where he could watch exactly what would happen next in macro detail.
He gently pulled on the “hair” — He had hoped that it would move only slightly and that whatever happened, he would have the opportunity to do it again —
Instead the hair slid so easily from within the mirror that it was out completely in one smooth glide — accompanied by an impossible rippling of the glassy surface and a flash of blue light from somewhere deep inside the mirror.
— What the!?!
He jumped backwards, amazed There had been no mistaking this — He was sure of what he’d seen —
This evidence was incontrovertible!
He slowly approached the mirror once again and closely examined its surface. He ran his hands across its smooth cold face — it was once again solid — his fingers left only dust trails in their wake.
But he knew what he had seen this time —
No more foolishness! No more dancing around the truth!
He knocked on the mirror, leaned very close to it, his breath fogging and creating a large expanding grey splotch.
He found himself whispering without knowing why. “Eli — Are you in there?”
There was, of course, no response.
But he finally knew! A turning point had been reached! The infuriating pendulum that had swung between certainty and uncertainty had finally stopped. He finally had his answer!
He was elated!
And then the sense of victory quickly ebbed away.
So he knew… Who would possibly believe him without proof? What was he supposed to do NOW?
His head began to throb with anger and confusion at this infuriating predicament.
It was one thing to believe it was all delusion, with Jackie at his side to bolster his confidence and certainty at this fact — it was quite another to know that it was more than that. No matter what he could tell someone now, no matter how much he were to try to explain — He was in this alone. He had thought being certain would elevate his position — free him from this… limbo. Instead, it had effectively driven a wedge between him and all others.
His head pounded and he clutched it tightly in his hands as if to stop it from exploding at the inevitable realization —
More than ever now — He was completely alone.
CHAPTER 24 – Despair
Frank sat hunched before his keyboard with the shades drawn, almost the only light in the room the glow from his computer screen. He had tried again to sleep before Jackie came home — but his mind was a muddle of whirling ideas — pushing and pulling at each other against a backdrop of throbbing temples and nagging body aches. He had given up and come here — trying to flush out the anxieties into a free-form document on the screen.
He looked at what he’d written so far and felt a distant note of embarrassment through his malaise. Were anyone to read this, they would surely think him mad — it clearly read like the half-baked ramblings of a lunatic.
The words resounded on the screen in all capital letters:
CAN’T TELL HER — CAN’T TELL HER — SHE’S BEEN THROUGH ENOUGH — CAN’T TELL ANYONE — BUT WHAT I KNOW IS TRUE — BUT I HAVE NO PROOF — AND WITHOUT PROOF — NOTHING — IF THE WOLF WENT THROUGH THE MIRROR — THE REST IS TRUE ALSO — LIDIA MURDERED — NO SUICIDE — THE FINGERNAIL IN MY STOMACH — THE RING — THE ARTICLES — NOW THE CHILD MURDERS — BURT’S STORIES — IT ALL ADDS UP TO ONLY ONE THING — IT MUST BE — IT HAS TO BE — THE APPARITION I SAW AT THE HOSPITAL — NO ONE BELIEVES ME — GOD HELP ME — NO ONE BELIEVES ME — BUT IT CAN ONLY BE — THERE IS ONLY ONE THING IT CAN BE — IT HAS TO MEAN — IT HAS TO BE —
The words on the screen stopped. It was all he’d been able to write. The final implication was too horrible to put into words — words that would be indelible proof that he could even have such thoughts!
He put his shaking hands on the keyboard and tried to finish what he’d started. The three little letters were so hard to type — as though doing so would make matters more real — more defined. He pulled his hands away — He could not do it — He must not!
But it was inevitable. It was all he could think about now. He needed to face it. Get it out — out! He lifted his hands, set them on the keys again. As outlandish as it seemed, he first needed to admit it to himself. It had to be done. But it was so hard. It was as if he was confirming his own insanity in writing. With one finger he moved from key to key and pressed softly.
E… L….I
It was done — Now he could look at it on the screen. It was the culmination of what he had thought ever since the accursed promise — The promise that had wrought havoc with his life in the same way he had intended it to do to the main character in his fictional novel. The promise that had begun all this and that couldn’t be undone.
The promise that was now causing him to conceal things from his wife — Things that he knew she would never believe. Things that if he told her, would ruin their relationship forever.
***
For the next several days, Frank went through the motions of his daily life without joy. He did all the things he was obligated to do — but nothing more. He barely slept. He ate only because he knew he had to. His time with Jackie felt mechanical and forced. Outwardly, they were as they had always been — their routine was unchanged. But inwardly he felt a schism — a breach in their connection. The weight of private knowledge was t
aking its toll. He was becoming irritable and prone to white-hot bursts of anger. And yet, if she sensed this change and his new remoteness, she said nothing.
Was she not addressing his obvious mood change because she didn’t want to deal with it? He thought. Or is she so oblivious to him, that she actually doesn’t notice? Either way — this is bullshit! Bullshit!
At work, he did his best not to show his new temperament — and he reminded himself frequently that his current state was his own fault and not that of “his kids”. He had started this thing, unleashed this creature, and he alone was responsible.
At recess, his wariness always increased ten-fold. It was here he felt that his kids were most vulnerable and here that the monster would most likely strike.
There had been no more headlines about additional missing children — but instead of giving him peace, he found his uneasiness growing — There was an ominous stillness to this lack of news — like the calm before a horrific storm.
By the end of the week, his agitation had been ratcheted up to the breaking point. There was still no news — It was too calm — Too peaceful.
His kids were playing in the sand lot that was bordered by a thick tree line. As his eyes scanned the periphery back and forth, the thought occurred to him that the setting was somehow familiar — and then the connection was made — It was the same as in Burt’s story!
Why hadn’t he realized this before? This was the same school that Eli had poached children from as a young man!
The thought sent that all-too-familiar chilling current down Frank’s neck and spine and he shuddered in his overcoat. It was the same — just the same!
After Death Page 19