I nodded understandingly. “Ok, yeah…tomorrow. Maybe it’s best I take the night to digest this all anyway. Again, I didn’t mean to be so aggressive.” I looked at Mason, his eyes huge and tear streaked. “I’m sorry, kid. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Liz looked hard at me and then sighed wearily. “Go home, Jack. We’ll talk tomorrow. I’ll call you.”
“Ok,” I said, backing away, “I really didn’t mean for it to go like this…”
“I know,” Liz said quietly. And as I turned to go, “And Jack? Thanks.”
I gave her a half-cocked smile and simply nodded. She closed the door and I went to my car, breathing in the night air. All right, things were a little better now. I didn’t feel like a complete asshole. I still hated myself, but it was a start.
The drive back to the city was a blur. My head was swirling with so many thoughts that I barely saw the road. First, the reality that I had a son. Then the fact that Liz was the mother. Next came the fear inching its way back. What the hell was I supposed to do in a situation like this? I had brought a life into this world…didn’t that make me responsible for it? What would my dad do? I winced. Of course, I knew what he’d do. He’d raise it, love it, and take care of it to the best of his abilities. I thought about calling him, but the shame stopped me. The need to talk this out with someone was overwhelming and so I dialed the only other person I knew would understand.
Jason picked up almost immediately.
“What’s good, Jack? You still recovering from your birthday hangover?”
I adjusted the phone as I approached the city limits. “Yeah, something like that.”
“Sorry I couldn’t make it out last night. Work, you know?”
“It’s fine,” I said, brushing it aside. “Are you free tonight though? There’s something I really need to talk to you about.”
“Oh, you sound kinda serious. Everything ok? Did something happen?”
“You could say that.”
“Well,” Jason said loudly, “I’m leaving work now, so I could head over to your place if you wanted. You home?”
“I will be in a little bit.”
“Cool. Sure, man, I’ll be there with bells on.”
“Thanks, Jason,” I said, relieved.
“You bet man. See you soon.”
I hung up and set my phone down. My rattled nerves had settled a little but I planted a cigarette between my lips anyway. The moon continued its brilliant ascension as night spread across the sky. I looked at it through the windshield, hanging between the growing buildings before me, hiding among a dense concrete jungle. I felt like hiding, too.
At some point, I became aware that my phone was ringing. I thought it would be Jason, but when I checked the caller ID I saw that it was coming from a blocked number. I set my cell down. I didn’t need any more distractions tonight.
I picked up a twelve pack of beer before returning to my apartment, and when I did I found myself pacing in anticipation for Jason’s arrival. My fingers twitched at my sides as I patrolled my living room, the overhead light casting shadows I followed across the floor.
Finally, I heard Jason ring from downstairs. I buzzed him in and soon we were sitting opposite one another, beer in hand. Having come directly from work, he was dressed in a crisp blue button up and black dress pants complete with shoes that were polished so brightly I almost had to look away.
“Aren’t we fancy?” I joked, taking a swig of beer and reclining in my chair.
Jason chuckled. “You got to look the part, brother.”
“How’s work been?” I asked idly.
He shrugged, eyes roaming around my small apartment. “Can’t complain. I told you I got a raise last month right? I couldn’t believe it.”
“Mr. Money Man,” I said, a little envious.
“Puts me just over eighty thousand. Never in a million years did I think I’d be making that kind of money.”
I snorted, “It’s not that much…”
Jason laughed, “Sorry, I didn’t realize I was talking to a king.”
“Damn right,” I smiled, “the king of poverty.”
Jason rolled his eyes, grinning. “Oh shut up. You do just fine. You have a place to yourself in the city. What more could you ask for?”
I spread my arms. “How about some decent furniture?”
Jason appraised the chairs and then the couch. “I think the worn, dirty look is very hip.”
I barked a laugh. “Oh blow me.”
We settled, the small talk easing the tension in my shoulders. We conversed about life a little bit more, finishing our beers and popping fresh ones.
After about twenty minutes, Jason finally asked, “So you going to tell me what’s going on? You sounded kinda rattled on the phone earlier.”
“Yeah, that’s one way to put it,” I said slowly, suddenly dreading the impending conversation.
Jason leaned forward, clutching his beer with both hands. “So what’s up?”
I took a long, steadying breath. “Liz called me.”
Jason leaned back. “Oh boy, here we go.”
I licked my lips. “Jason…she has a kid. A little boy. His name’s Mason.”
Jason cocked an eyebrow. “Ok…? So what?”
I closed my eyes. “Dude…he’s mine.”
Jason blinked, a thick silence clouding between us. I bit my lip and looked at my sweating bottle. I scratched at the label.
“Wow…” Jason finally said, “I mean…wow.”
“I know,” I said quietly. “I went and saw her. She lives just outside the city now. I thought I was going to get laid. I had no idea. When I saw the boy and she told me it was mine…I didn’t exactly take the news well.”
“Oh jeez, Jack, what did you do?”
I shrugged. “I said some things I wish I hadn’t. Yelled. Made an ass of myself. I mean Christ though, she completely blindsided me.”
Jason nodded understandingly. “Yeah, man, that’s a lot to process.”
“I calmed down a little bit after,” I continued, “and she’s going to call me tomorrow so we can talk.”
“How did this happen?” Jason pried, still looking shocked.
I shrugged. “I don’t know. Apparently, when she broke up with me she was already pregnant, she just didn’t know it yet. When she found out she kept me out of the picture.”
“Until now.”
“Yeah, until now. She said she thought I should know. She doesn’t want any money, any support, nothing. She just wanted me to know. I guess her dad is helping out financially.”
Jason drained the rest of his beer. “Wow, Jack…I don’t even know what to say. What are you going to do?”
I shrugged miserably. “Hell if I know. Honestly, just knowing I have a son scares the shit out of me. God knows I’m not father material.”
“Why not?” Jason asked softly.
I looked up at him. “Dude, do you really have to ask?”
Something settled behind his eyes and he suddenly looked very sad. “Yeah…I get it, buddy.”
I placed my head in my hands. “Fuck, man, when I think about my dad and what fatherhood meant to him…I just…I can’t even imagine…”
“It’s ok,” Jason said gently, “I get it. I was there too, remember?”
I closed my eyes behind my hands. “How could I forget?”
“Hey, erase all that. Put it out of your mind where it belongs. You’re doing good now, you really are. We both are. Don’t let this crush you. You said Liz was going to call you tomorrow, right? Why don’t you sleep on it and tomorrow things will hopefully have settled a little bit.”
“You’re probably right,” I mumbled.
Jason stood and came over to me. He placed a hand on my shoulder, “You’re going to be ok, Jack. I promise. Don’t kill yourself over this. I know you tend to sway from one extreme to the other at the drop of a hat, but please, for your own sake, find a middle ground and get some rest. You look exhausted.”
I l
ooked up at him.“I’ve been exhausted for twenty-eight years.”
Jason smiled. “You and me both, dude.”
“You have to go?” I asked.
He nodded. “Yeah, early start tomorrow. But if you need to call me, please do. My schedule isn’t too crazy the next couple days so if you need to blow off some steam or just talk this out, I’m here.”
I stood up and hugged him. “Thanks, Jay. I really appreciate it.”
He hugged me back. “Don’t mention it. Next time just buy better beer.” We separated and laughed. I saw him to the door and wished him a good night, closing it behind him. Turning to face my empty apartment, I sighed heavily.
Then my phone began to ring from where I had left it on the chair. I walked over and checked it. Again, the incoming call was from a blocked number. I ignored it. No more tonight.
I needed to sleep.
Chapter 8
I was in the bowels of some nightmare when I awoke. Something had pulled me from sleep. A noise. I groggily opened my eyes and saw that it was a little after three in the morning. I blinked in the darkness and a sound, that noise, pushed me further from slumber.
It was my phone. The screen was lit up and I turned over and picked it up from the nightstand. Someone was calling me.
I looked at the screen, squinting. Liz? Why was Liz calling me so late? I rolled onto my back, taking my phone with me, and answered, voice thick.
“H’lo?”
At first there was nothing. Then slowly, something rubbed over the speaker like she had placed the phone back in her pocket.
“Liz?” I asked, scrubbing my eyes.
The sound continued like muffled movement. Had she pocket dialed me? This late? I pressed the cell to my ear, listening. Did I hear voices? I jumped as something thudded on the other side and then a clatter followed.
The line went dead.
“What was that all about?” I mumbled to myself. I tried calling her back, but after half a ring it went to voicemail. I sat up in bed, now fully awake. I reached over to my nightstand and snatched up a cigarette. I brought it to life and blew smoke across the darkness of my bedroom. Had she called me by mistake? Something about the late hour made me feel uneasy. I tried calling her back a second time but got the same result. Had that been voices I heard? Not just one, but two?
I set my phone down next to me and worked on my cigarette. Sleep seemed miles away now. I didn’t have to work tomorrow, but the thought of starting my day this early made me groan.
Suddenly, my phone lit up and I snatched it from the bed. It was a text message from Liz. I opened it and as my eyes scanned the text, my stomach turned to ice.
There’s someone in my house.
I read it back four times in rapid succession, a sense of dread growing each time. My fingers quickly danced over the keys as I sent her a text back.
Are you in danger? Who is it?
I waited anxiously, fingers drumming against my leg. After a couple seconds, my cell lit up again. I opened the text and felt my throat tighten.
He says he knows you.
That feeling of dread began to heighten, a spire of fear rising on a horizon of terror. What the hell was going on? I licked my dry lips and sent her a reply.
Who is it? What do they want?
I finished my cigarette, eyes wide, staring off into the black as I waited for an answer. The spire on the horizon was starting to burn, a tower of flame and fear that I refused to look at. Something in my mind begged me to shield my eyes, to turn away, because something horrible was growing from the fire.
I jolted, startled, as my phone began to ring. It was Liz. Hands shaking, I answered, placing the cell to my ear.
“Liz?” I whispered.
First there was nothing.
And then a voice—a familiar, haunting, horrible voice: “Hello, Jack.”
My room seemed to dip and rock, a shaking, shattering nightmare. My eyes went wide and an icy, skeletal hand gripped my head and squeezed with urgent terror.
“Tommy?” I breathed, voice a quivering croak.
“Hehehehe…”
The call disconnected.
I sat trembling in the silence of my apartment. My heart was racing and a sickly sweat had broken out across my forehead. My chest felt like it would cave in at any second, a collapsed, broken shell.
No, my mind begged, please no, no, no, let me wake up, please let me wake up.
I squeezed my eyes shut and shuddered. The spire roared, an impossible heat consuming me. It towered before my mind, absorbing, charring, burning, and destroying every sense and strand of sanity I had worked so hard to rebuild.
“No,” I cried, “Oh no, please not again…” I covered my face with my hands. I felt like I was trying to hold in my screaming thoughts, chaos and madness leaking into my face and spilling through my fingers.
“Jesus Christ, this can’t be happening,” I croaked, eyes bulging. What was I supposed to do? Just what the hell was I supposed to DO?!
Liz…oh my God…he was with Mason and Liz.
“NO!” I screamed suddenly, leaping from my bed, tears springing from my eyes. “No, no, NO, NOT AGAIN!”
I paced furiously in my room, pulling at my hair. “Fuck, fuck, FUCK. This isn’t HAPPENING! FUCK!” My hand swept across the nightstand, knocking the lamp to the floor in a crash.
What do I do? What do I fucking DO!?
The vault of my mind had been opened and all the horror and monstrous memories were pouring back in like a toxic avalanche. They swarmed me, clawed at me, consumed me, overloading my mind with terrors I had long locked away.
I shrank to the floor, clutching myself, sweating, mumbling, my world completely shattered. I felt the pieces shred my mind as they dislodged and scattered like broken glass. I wanted to throw up, but my stomach had nothing to offer.
The phone began to ring once again. I jerked my head up, staring at my bed where my cell glowed urgently.
Don’t answer it. Just don’t answer it.
But I did. I scrambled over on my hands and knees and grabbed it from the sheets. I didn’t even look at who was calling; my thumb slammed across the screen.
“Yes?” I asked shakily, fully expecting my head to be filled with that haunting laughter.
But instead, a soft static buzzed in my ear. My eyes went wide.
“It’s starting again, Jack.”
I dropped the phone onto the floor and scooted away from it, gasping and panting, soaked with sweat. This couldn’t be real, this couldn’t be happening again, it just couldn’t. Propped up on my elbows and knees, I lowered my face to the floor and pressed my forehead against the wood, squeezing my eyes shut. Tears rolled down my face as I desperately tried to keep breathing. My phone was still lit up, the call ongoing. I could hear a voice, that voice, calling to me.
“Please,” I whispered, drool stringing from my lips, “please make it stop.”
I looked at my cell and slowly reached for it.
I placed it to my ear, voice strained. “This was supposed to be over.”
“You need to help me.”
“No,” I whispered, “no I can’t do this again…”
“Listen to me.”
“I don’t want to,” I cried, “I don’t want any of this. Please, just leave me alone, why can’t you just leave me alone?”
“It’s going to get worse, Jack. I need you. I can’t bear it anymore.”
I felt sick. Every part of me wanted to close my eyes and go to sleep, never to wake again. I wanted to be swallowed up by darkness and shield my face away from this returning hell.
But Tommy had Liz now.
Tommy had Mason.
I squeezed my hands into fists, the phone trembling against my ear. Jesus…oh Jesus…I couldn’t let them do this alone. I couldn’t abandon them with Tommy. Liz had no idea what she was dealing with, who Tommy was, or what he was capable of. My mind shook at the thought of confronting the nightmare from my childhood, but I couldn’t shake
the clinging responsibility I felt toward her and the child.
Because somehow, I knew that Tommy was my fault. That he was there because of me. And as much as I hated, screamed, begged myself to just turn away from it all, I found that I couldn’t. She needed someone to help her. She needed someone to understand what was going to happen, what was probably happening right now. She needed someone to take notice and do something about it.
Just like I had needed someone to notice all those years ago.
Despite all my bad habits and depressed, angry mood swings, I refused to turn into one of those people I had grown to loathe as a child. An ignorant coward who turned a blind eye on what was really going on. I remembered the helplessness, the need for someone to say something, do something. The maddening hell of having to carry it all in silence.
“I won’t be that person,” I whispered into the phone, a trickle of sweat running down my face. “I have to go help her.”
“Yes, but there’s nothing you can do for her right now. We have to plan and navigate this situation with tremendous caution. If we’re patient and work together, we can stop this.”
“Oh fuck you,” I spat. “Liz doesn’t have time. God knows what that monster is doing to her right now. I can’t sit here and wait.”
“No, Jack, you can’t go; that’s exactly what he wants!”
“Who the hell are you?” I suddenly hissed into the phone. “Why the fuck should I listen to anything you say? You’ve been buzzing in my ear for years and I still have no idea if you’re even real.”
A pause. On the other end I heard a low whistle followed by what sounded like a horn. I furrowed my brow, holding the phone tightly against my head, listening intently.
Finally, quietly: “My name is Rez.”
I felt the word sink into my mind, into my memory, a slow anchor that seemed to be wrapped with distant familiarity.
“Rez,” I whispered, “I’ve heard that somewhere before. It was part of a pattern…a pattern of numbers you gave to me years ago.”
Silence on the other end.
“Yeah,” I continued, “I remember now…six-six-three-five-eight-Rez. That’s what you told me. What does it mean? What are the numbers? Is that your full name?”
The Third Parent Page 14