“There’s scientific data that exposes up to a six hundred percent cancellation rate for train journeys, on the days accidents occurred.”
“That’s interesting. I won't dispute scientific data. Although I have to concede; even with this knowledge I haven’t a clue what to do with it. We’re still no further on.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Shall we call it a day?”
“Yeah, let’s go. I can’t wait to hear about your experience!”
Back at the ranch, Eve listens to Jeff as he wrestles with the world. His belief systems are slowly being unraveled by the very force he doesn’t believe in, fate. Out on the porch Jeff recounts his earlier experience of the day, and confides his fear of madness. Eve, in his arms, listens to him whilst looking out to the stars above.
“I need to see Casey in the morning.”
“What do you have in mind?”
“I don’t, but I’m sure there’ll be something in his.”
Jeff feels no fear nor anxiety; nor his tremble as he waits for the steel door to be pulled back. He positively can’t wait for it to open, to get back inside the room, with Casey, and the answers that lie within. Casey smiles as the door opens and Jeff walks in.
“Back so soon?”
“Yes. It’s a pleasure to see you too.”
“I’m sure it is.” Casey flashes a wide smile. “Did your phone arrive?”
“My phone?”
“The one you left at my mother's house. Andre mailed it to you.”
“I did,” Jeff admits. He'd sent Andre money for the postage by return mail.
“How were things in Colorado?” Casey continues.
“Colorado?”
“The state university.”
“Keeping tabs on me?” Jeff isn’t surprised.
“There’s only one answer at the foot of those hills. Although books and libraries are always a predetermined conclusion, aren’t they?”
“So I’m supposed to ask you how you know this.”
“Of course.”
“Okay, spill the beans.”
“It’s in the future before the event, and in the past after.”
“You still haven’t answered my question.” He knows Casey’s holding back.
“I gave you a clue.”
“Okay. How did you know about the date you carved in the beam at your mothers? Why did you ask personally for me to interview you?” Jeff gives Casey that 'don’t fuck with me' look. “I need you to give me something to work with, otherwise these interviews become meaningless.”
“Like a ship, you’re being steered to port.” Casey leans forward. “I’m simply part of the crew. Thankfully for us both; we do not sail aboard the Titanic.”
“You know don’t you?” Jeff sits back, his fingers irately tapping on the desk.
“I do.”
“Why did it happen?”
“Like a buoy out at sea, it’s there only to help you navigate.”
“Why do you shroud yourself in riddles?”
“I’m being covert.”
“Covert?”
“There’s always an eye in the sky.”
“Ah I see. Then how do you propose to help me? After all this is about me, isn’t it?”
“Of course. But you have a poor memory, and one that only works backwards.”
“Backwards?” Jeff double blinks in consternation. “How can I remember what I haven’t experienced?”
“The real question is do you wish to remember? Or would that take all the fun out of life? Every birthday, meeting, job interview, argument or kiss. And perhaps what we fear the most: the time of our own demise. It’s logical for the mind to protect its host.”
“You’re enjoying this far too much.”
“What else have I to do? But you’re correct, I do enjoy our meetings. You’re teetering on the edge of the burrow, and yet you’re afraid to jump.”
“Into?”
“The spirit of adventure. Without it we would all stay at home, and be that bit safer.”
“And the wheels wouldn’t turn.”
“Precisely. They may already be assembling the cogs that make up my intentions.”
“Who?” Jeff’s curious, who is 'they'?
“The government.”
“You are their guest.” In a strange way, Jeff’s relieved about this.
“Yes. I do find myself in that unfortunate predicament. If I were you, I would destroy the recording of this interview.” Casey’s voice shows concern. “Otherwise you may not be permitted to see me again.”
“I see.” With raised eyebrows. “Any other advice?”
“Reach out to a friend, but only if you can swallow your pride?”
“Marcus.” Casey’s hit a sore spot.
“Yes, quite the devil isn’t he?”
“Why him?”
“He holds many keys.” Like the preacher his palms stretch out. “All you have to do is knock for his door to open.”
“And if I can’t?”
“Then your journey ends. There’s nothing else to be found here until your return, but you alone will have to search for me.”
“Search for you?”
“You’ll understand when the time comes.”
“Will I? We’ll see.” The interview's over; he’ll get nothing else out of Casey today. “Thank you for your time, Casey.”
“It appears to be all I have left.”
Jeff stands and walks out of the interview room and into the observation room. On the monitor the guard is leading Casey back to his cell.
“Did you get that?”
“Yeah, every word.”
“Do you think we should?”
“What?”
“Delete the recording?”
“Are you insane? Christ, Jeff, I would lose my job!”
“But he said.”
“He said nothing.” Eve can’t believe she’s even hearing this. “He’s a convicted criminal and we don’t take orders from him!”
“Did I hear someone mention taking orders?”
Mr. White unaccompanied and unnoticed has walked into the room. Neither of them know just how long he’s been standing here.
“Good morning, sir.”
“Good morning.” This man projects authority. “How are you both today?”
“Fine, thank you.”
“And our Mr. Jones?”
“He’s pleasant enough, and is cooperating in a fashion.”
“Quite the manipulator isn’t he?” His questions probe like tentacles.
“He is.”
“Has he mentioned me?”
“Not by name.”
“What did he say?”
“He implies your presence, and that the interviews are recorded.”
“Have you acknowledged my presence?”
“No.”
“Keep it that way. He will try to exploit you in every manner. Remember that he’s a convicted killer; don’t let him get under your skin, Dr. Davies. His pleasure will be the dismantling of your mind piece by piece.”
“I’m aware of the dangers.” White’s words feel more like a threat than concern for his well being.
“Excellent. Oh, and make full use of your partner, she is, after all, a psychiatrist.”
“Yes sir.”
“That will be all.”
Mr. White walks out of the room, leaving them both startled by his unannounced visit.
“See.” Eve's angry. “That’s why we don’t delete recordings.”
“I’m sorry.” Eve can see a puzzled look in his eyes. “He suggested I use you as a psychiatrist. Does that mean we’re all under surveillance?”
“I don’t know.”
“Let’s get out of here.”
CHAPTER NINE
Darkness, solitude and silence. The dog-kennel entombment of cement walls, a sound-proofed door, and a small painted over meshed window. The architecture of nothingness incites segregation, disorientation; depression and suicide. The
system offers the inmate up as prey to terror. Look into the eyes of a hunted, cornered animal, just before the slaughter. Upright on a cold slab of concrete, his bed may as well be a sacrificial stone for the one who stands outside the door. The mechanism breaks the silence; steel rolls across the floor, and a silhouetted figure blocks the doorway. Light pierces the prisoner’s eyes; footsteps surround him. Casey looks straight ahead. Glistening beads of sweat trickle down his forehead.
“In theory you have been waiting for me.” White walks slowly, studying his nemesis. His eyes pierce as a lepidopterist would, before inserting the butterfly needle. “I have to ask myself, did you know I was coming, or did you not know at all?”
“I could smell you outside the door.” Casey’s eyes look dead, and show no emotion.
“The stench is inside, Mr. Jones.”
“Touché.”
“Always the protagonist. Why do you have to be so subversive?” White raises his voice in a bid to penetrate Casey. “To fight for what?”
“Freedom.”
“Freedom is nothing but a word in a system of control.”
“Your black-eyed prison?” Casey speaks with authority; he’s no broken sinner. “What do you want?”
“To offer you a deal.” White smiles and offers up a friendly tone. “A get-out clause for good behavior.”
“Good behavior?” he sarcastically responds. “For a man who will try to exploit you in every manner. A convicted killer, who has psychic abilities that he will misuse for his own entertainment. Rumor has it that my only pleasure comes from the dismantling of one’s mind, piece by piece.”
”You haven’t lost your touch.” White walks a few steps towards the wall before turning back. “I seek only your silence, that you cease what you have started. That is all we ask of you.”
“And if I don’t?”
“My years will roll by, whilst yours will remain eternal.”
“I see.”
“It’s all very simple.”
“The power of individual choice. More than capable of destroying any collective that tries to destroy it.”
“Then these four walls will become your grave.”
“Along with the knowledge your superiors wish to gain.” Casey remains firm.
“Be reasonable, Mr. Jones
“I’ll have to think about it.”
“I understand your mother recently passed.” White probes, matter-of-fact but with an implied threat. “You’re the last one of your kind; we might decide to end it all here.”
“I understand that shortly, I will be laid on this floor. I’ll give you the finger now while I still can.” Casey raises his middle finger to White. “Fuck you!”
“Tut, tut, Mr. Jones. I credited you with more intelligence.” White takes a few paces and turns. He stares into Casey’s eyes, then addresses the guards surrounding him. “Boys, think only of your fallen colleagues.” Then smiles.
A rain of blows hit Casey. As he predicted moments earlier, he falls to the concrete floor. The numbing pain fades as, in wonder, he takes comfort in the light of his mother. Aimee smiles to him whilst holding him in her arms, telling him everything’s going to be alright. Casey’s unconscious when White walks up to the offending finger, bends it back and with the snap of gristle and bone breaks it, then casually walks out of the cell, leaving darkness to surround Casey once again.
***
“Jeff.”
“Hmm.”
“Who’s Marcus?”
Jeff leans over and switches the bedside light on. He sits up and raises his arms behind his head, then sighs.
“An old friend.”
“You don’t sound keen?” Eve’s curious. Who is he? Why hasn’t Jeff mentioned him before?
“I’m not.”
“Care to share?” She speaks softly, and with concern.
“It’s a long story.”
“It’s a long night.”
“I guess so.” Jeff pauses to collect his thoughts. “We lived opposite each other and grew up together as best of friends. We were inseparable, and I thought nothing would ever come between us.”
“So what went wrong?”
“He screwed my girlfriend at university.” There’s no anger, only surviving bewilderment in his voice.
“Ah. A woman.” Eve shakes her head in a knowing way. “That figures. I’m not surprised you’re reluctant to contact him.”
“I thought we had each other’s backs covered. How could he do that?”
“The world’s full of fuckers like him. We’ve all been hurt, all you can do is pick yourself back up and get on with it.”
“That’s what I did.”
“What hurt you most, his betrayal or hers?”
“Both.” Jeff casts his memories back. He didn’t just lose his girlfriend, he also lost his best friend. “His more I think.”
“So what happened between them?”
“They split up.” Jeff shrugs his shoulders.
“And Marcus?”
“He tried to apologize but I couldn’t accept it, so in the end we both went our separate ways. He sought to prove the paranormal existed and I sought to disprove the notion.”
“Ah, rivalry. That explains your reluctance to believe in the paranormal, and to invalidate any evidence presented before you.”
“Possibly.”
“Are you going to contact him?”
“I don’t know. It’s a biggie.”
“Casey said it all ends if you don’t.”
“I know what he said.” Jeff snaps, then calms his voice down. “I’m going to have to sleep on it.”
“You do that, babes.” Eve decides it’s best left for Jeff to work out.
Jeff turns the bedside light out and Eve snuggles into his arms. Once she’s asleep he lies on his back and looks up to the ceiling. He remembers the event only too well, and the pain of betrayal for tonight at least still flickers deep inside.
The red rim of the morning sun pushes over mountains, dispersing shadows with the flow of light like blood giving life and warmth to the new day. A time to feel, to pray to the angels of dawn, and plead to God for help. Jeff takes his leave of the bed, waiting for a whisper in his ear; lonely, feeling disconnected, he watches the light creep round the barn door and onto the baked earth and stone. Yet even in this moment of glory he still holds onto the pain of the past. Eve walks around the corner to discover Jeff sitting on an old wooden box.
“There you are!” Relieved that he’s okay, she smiles.
“Hi.”
“What are you doing out here?”
“I couldn’t sleep. I thought the fresh air would do me good.”
“Do you want to be alone?”
“No.” That’s the last thing he needs.
Eve walks up and places her arms around him. Jeff places his head into her bosom; they caress.
“If Marcus troubles you this much, maybe your journey should end here.” Eve comforts him by stroking his hair.
“Maybe.”
“But then you will never know, will you?”
“I would always wonder.” He knows she’s right. Eve’s always the voice of reason.
“Are you going to allow past events to control your life?”
“I’ve not come this far for nothing.”
“Then you have your answer.” Eve’s relieved; finally she’s getting somewhere with him.
“I have to contact him.”
“It’s the only realistic option.” She bends down and looks him in the eye. “I promise it won’t be as bad as your fears.” Then gives him a kiss. “In fact you have nothing to lose and everything to gain.”
“I know.”
“It takes a real man to swallow his pride.”
“That doesn’t make it any easier.”
“No it doesn’t.” Eve’s swayed Jeff in the right direction. Now it’s time to get him back onto his feet, before he changes his mind. “But I tell you what might.”
“What?”
> “Starting the day with pancakes?”
“I believe it will.” Jeff smiles, one thing he loves is being pampered.
“Come on then. You’ll feel better with something inside you.”
***
In a strange twist of fate, Marcus is sprawled out in bed. His partner of many years, Sarah, lays beside him. Her dyed flame red hair intermingles with his dark curly locks. She’s curious as to what he’s experiencing as he sleeps. He murmurs, his legs twitch and his eyelids flutter.
Marcus is walking on a trail, high up on the hillside. This path delves deep into his psyche. Animal runs like this were followed by hunters, hunters became soldiers, soldiers became settlers, and the paths turned from soil, to stone, to concrete. He’s accompanied by Jeff. Marcus can’t remember the conversation of this recurring dream, yet he always remembers the horror of Jeff losing his footing. He slips and scrambles for his life on a fingertip ledge. Marcus holds onto Jeff for as long as he can, trying in desperation to stop him falling into the chasm below.
“Marcus don’t let go!”
Yet he feels Jeff’s hands slip through his; has to watch in horror as he plunges. Jeff still reaches out to him. Marcus wakes, breathless.
“Back in the land of the living?” Sarah tickles the bearded stubble on his chin.
“Yeah.” Marcus pulls his chin away; he’s not in the mood.
“So who was she this time, honey?” Sarah enjoys the tease.
“You’re not funny!”
“I wasn’t trying to be. We both know what a horny boy you can be.” Sarah’s hand trickles down between his legs. “You’re not hard?”
“Not now, Sarah.”
“What’s up with you?” Marcus sits up whilst Sarah follows him and places her hand on his shoulder. She gives him a gentle kiss on the neck. “What’s wrong babe?”
“I keep having the same dream.”
“Do tell.” Sarah speaks with excitement.
“I’m walking on a hillside with an old friend. There’s a ravine to our side, he trips and falls, yet manages to hold onto the ledge. I reach for his arms and he pleads for me not to let go. But he always slips through my hands and the dream always ends in his death.”
Of That Day and Hour: A psychological thriller Page 10