With a pout and a frown, she turned down the music and called out. No answer. Charlene is probably in her shower, she thought. She was walking to Charlene's room to see if her friend had chosen an outfit already and whether it was perhaps lying on the bed, when she saw the attic stairs.
Rosewater shook her head.
“What's up with her and this attic?” she thought out loud.
Rosewater sighed, pulled the towel tighter around her midriff, whilst making more room for her legs to move, and made her way up the stairs. They were well-oiled and maintained and didn't make a sound. An idea formed in her head and she sported an impish smile as she tiptoed upwards. Rosewater was about to call out to her friend and perhaps get another scare out of her, when she saw Charlene standing near the back wall, head tilted to one side, looking at a wooden box that was lying on the floor by her feet.
Charlene saw her and guiltily shoved the box away from her, towards a wall of stacked cardboard boxes.
“What was that?” Rosewater asked.
Charlene answered with an uhm and moved away from her friend, towards the nearest window. RW got the impression that her friend was grateful for the opportunity to move away from the box, as if she hadn't been sure how to feel about its discovery. Was there a hint of fear in Charlene's eyes?
Charlene stopped by the bay window and turned. She looked at the box, not at Rosewater.
“You're going to think I'm crazy,” she whispered.
“I don't have to think it asswipe,” Rosewater smiled. “I know it.”
Charlene grinned at her sheepishly, but her eyes never left the wooden box. Rosewater walked over and joined her in front of the large window with the spectacular view.
“What's up?” she asked.
Charlene looked a little shaken.
“Something happened this morning that I can't explain.”
“Try me,” Rosewater prompted, casually glancing out the window, giving her friend the time needed to formulate her thoughts.
Rosewater frowned as movement across the road caught her eye. Someone was standing in the shade of the neighbor's sugar maple again. It was the same hulking figure she thought she had seen that morning.
“I think we have a stalker,” she mouthed, before Charlene could start speaking.
Charlene turned towards her friend and looked out the window.
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“There,” Rosewater pointed with her eyes. “Across the street. In the shade of the tree. Someone's ogling us.”
Charlene looked at her friend and smiled. Her eyes purposefully stared at Rosewater's bosom poking out of the top of the towel, instead of out the window. “I wonder why?”
Rosewater ignored her friend's quip and looked at the shadow again. She couldn't be sure if the man was actually looking at them or not, he was too far away and too deep in the shadows, but Rosewater could somehow feel his eyes upon her. It was a male, of that she was sure. That hulking mass of muscle could only be the physique of a man. And he was tall. This was a big bastard.
“I think I saw him this morning as well,” Rosewater said.
“Really?” Charlene asked, her interest piqued. “While we were up here?”
Rosewater mumbled an affirmation. Something was wrong. Something didn't add up. There was something off about this picture, she thought.
Charlene looked out the window in the direction her friend had indicated. “I don't see him,” she said softly, her gaze returning yet again towards the wooden box.
Rosewater broke out in goosebumps. The more she looked at the shadow Hulk, the more her unease grew. It wasn't just that he was huge. It also wasn't the fact that he was staring at them. Something else was wrong.
If only I can see him better, Rosewater thought.
His features were all obscured in shadow.
And then it hit her. The shadow! That was the problem. There shouldn't be that deep a shadow at this time of day! The guy should not be that obscured. The shade from the tree should not be that dark! It didn't make sense. And yet, there it was.
The more Rosewater looked, the more freaked out she became. Warning bells were going off in her head and she decided to trust her instincts.
She put a hand on Charlene's shoulder and steered her away from the window towards the discarded garden furniture.
Charlene followed her lead. The metal chairs were painted a brilliant white and didn't look dirty. There also wasn't much dust on them. The girls moved two chairs and sat down opposite each other, Rosewater trying her best to look modest and not let anything hang out of the towel. Luckily it was an oversized bathroom towel, so she didn't have to worry. Besides, it was Charlene. They had been besties since kindergarten. There was no room for modesty or even secrets between them. They knew each other like the back of their own hands.
“So?” Rosewater prompted, trying to process what she had seen outside, but not ready to talk about it just yet. She had to figure it out for herself first. “Talk.”
“Where to begin?” Charlene asked, looking away from the wooden box to the ceiling to the window.
“You said something happened this morning?” Rosewater said, looking at the window.
“Actually,” Charlene started and stopped. “I think it started with Eleanor in the train. Coming here.”
Rosewater looked at her with a frown but said nothing, letting her friend divulge what she wanted at her own pace.
“I think,” Charlene said, “that all of this will be more believable if we included Eleanor in this conversation. Also,” she eyed the wooden box again, “that thing is getting louder and louder.”
Rosewater followed her friend's gaze. “What do you mean?” she asked.
“They're not whispering anymore. It's a lot louder now.”
To Rosewater's surprise, she thought she heard someone whispering for a short spell. And the sound seemed to come from the direction of the box.
The day was getting weirder and weirder.
CHAPTER 25
Eleanor hung up the phone feeling a little confused. When they met, the girls always came over to her place, but this time, Rosewater insisted that she come over to them.
It's not that Eleanor hadn't visited the Prouza household before. She didn't mind going there, even if the mansion was a little too grand and intimidating for her. It was actually RW's tone of voice, more than the meeting place that had Eleanor confused and a little worried.
Something was up, but Rosewater didn't want to discuss it over the phone and she insisted that nothing was wrong.
Eleanor shrugged, grabbed her handbag, which had become an extension of her in the last few days, and made sure that the .38 was in there.
She opened her front door, cautiously glanced up and down the street, and quickly made her way next door. Coming up to the house was always a little intimidating. The house itself was new. Rosewater's father had bought two adjoining properties almost six years ago, had the old homes demolished and then had the mansion erected. It was by far the biggest and most lavish residence on the block. The architect and Mr. Prouza had clearly had a stately English manor in mind. The perspective from the front of the house disguised its actual size. This was done to correspond with the other, less stately homes in the neighborhood. The unadorned exterior made use of tumbled Indiana limestone with classic iron-clad windows and a recessed front door. The massive oak front door opened before she had even reached out to ring the bell. Rosewater peered out, over Eleanor's shoulder and glanced up and down the street. Her gaze seemed to rest and focus on a particular tree across the road, and then she was quickly ushered inside.
“Hi, Rosewater,” Eleanor greeted with a bright, unassuming smile.
She didn't want RW to know that she had seen her young friend's strange reconnoiter of the neighborhood.
“What's up?” Eleanor asked, looking the teenager up and down.
Rosewater was already dressed in her party clothes. They consisted of casual sky-blue sneakers
, very tight white shorts that accentuated her small hips, and a light blue cotton shirt that showed off the top of her white bra. Rosewater was going to have the boys at her feet.
“Who knows?” Rosewater answered and offered a quick hug. “Charl's on the deck.”
By some unspoken acknowledgment, the girls had decided that they needed to sit in the sunlight. Somehow, it didn't feel right sitting indoors and talking about things that go bump in the night. Dark things that didn't make sense had to be discussed in the open, in the sunlight. Perhaps it was nothing but superstitious dread that lingered in the DNA, but the sunshine felt good on all of them as they huddled together. It seemed to dispel some of the internal chills that they were all feeling.
“So?” Eleanor began. “What is going on?” She looked from a perplexed looking Charlene to a confused Rosewater.
“I think you two need to tell me what happened on that train,” Rosewater stated.
“The train?” Eleanor feigned innocence, looking at Charlene.
Charlene merely shrugged. “I haven't said anything yet,” she ventured. “Rosewater doesn't know any details. And I must be honest,” she added as an afterthought, “sitting out here, I'm not sure what happened there anyway. But,” her voice trailed away, “since then, strange things have been happening. I think I might be losing my marbles.”
That statement shook Eleanor. That was exactly how she felt. She knew the self-doubt. Knew how destructive it could be. Her heart also went out to Charlene, given her past. The girl didn't need to doubt her sanity as well.
“You're not going crazy,” she said, leaning forward and squeezing Charlene's hand. “I know exactly what you're going through. I don't believe what happened on the train myself,”
She retracted her hand and leaned back in her chair, sighing up at the sky. She was hoping that the heavens would tear open and a booming voice would provide all the answers. Instead, a solitary bird flew across the sky. Receiving no answers, she looked back at an expectant Charlene.
“What's happened since? Something new?”
Charlene nodded. She cocked her head slightly. “Still is,” she said.
Eleanor looked at Rosewater and could see that something was bothering her as well.
“You experienced anything weird?”
Rosewater nodded and held up two perfectly manicured fingers. “Twice today,” she said matter-of-factly. She looked at her best friend. “I haven't told Charlene yet. I figure it started with you guys, so you need to tell me first. We need to establish a timeline and figure out what's going on. If that's possible,” she added as she saw Eleanor's tortured reaction.
Eleanor looked conflicted. At twenty-six, Eleanor didn't show any wrinkles, but sitting there, her eyes looked positively ancient.
“What's going on?” Rosewater insisted.
Eleanor sighed again. The time for the truth had come. She wasn't looking forward to hearing the words fall from her mouth. She was afraid of losing two of her best friends.
“It all started on Thursday in New York after my meeting with Dan. I was nearing Prospect Park, near the 78th Precinct, when I saw something that should not exist. It was a...” she faltered looking for the right words. “A thing. A creature. Something unlike I have ever seen before. Not even in a sci-fi or horror movie.” She looked from Rosewater to Charlene. “This Thing, that's what I call it anyway,” she shrugged, “I don't know what to call it.” She shook her head. “Anyway. This Thing was walking down the sidewalk and people just seemed to move around it without seeing it. I could see it for some reason, but other people couldn't.”
She heard a sharp intake of breath as Charlene connected the dots.
“It was like the sea parting before Moses,” Eleanor continued, nodding at Charl. “No one bumped into the Thing, no one acknowledged its existence. But it was there. I could see it. It had an impact on its environment. People couldn't see it, but it was as if they could sense it.”
“Like on the train,” Charlene piped in, excited. She thought of the yuccie wannabe, followed by the businesswoman and her paranormal haircut, followed by everyone's solemn reaction towards the end of their journey.
Eleanor nodded and continued.
“There was this invisible force field around the Thing and people just naturally steered away from it. It was as if I was watching a steam roller move down a busy sidewalk, but without people panicking. They just naturally moved out of its way. And that seemed to irritate the Thing. So it began bumping into people on purpose. Pushing them. Trying to get a reaction.” She licked her lips, thinking. “It has a mean streak, like a school yard bully who picks on the little kids for his own amusement. It pushed a bike messenger into a car. The poor guy landed on the roof. Luckily he wasn't hurt, but no one knew what was going on and the Thing seemed to get immense pleasure from this. As if it was a naughty ghost. But then, I think it saw me and realized that I could see it. To test this, it, it,” Eleanor faltered, remembering the dump truck. “It killed someone. It pushed a pedestrian in front of a truck. And it looked at me and grinned.” Eleanor opened and closed her hands in tiny fists. “So, I got out of there,” She looked guiltily at her hands and stopped them from balling into fists. She rested them on her knees instead, palms open. “I should have gone to the woman to help her. Maybe there would have been something I could have done.” Tears were forming in the corners of her eyes and she defiantly wiped at them. “But I ran. Like a coward. Like someone who only cared about herself. I was scared,” she looked into the eyes of her friends and saw understanding, rather than judgment. This steeled her and she continued. “I told myself that I had imagined seeing the Thing. That it was all in my head.”
“That's understandable,” Charlene offered.
“Totally,” Rosewater echoed.
“So, I fled to the train station.” Eleanor looked at Charlene. “I met you, we got on the train and all was fine. But then a few minutes into the trip, the Thing came in through one of the back doors. And it just stood there, staring at me, taunting me.”
“The woman's hair,” Charlene blurted out. “That was the Thing, right?”
Eleanor nodded.
“What?” Rosewater asked, looking from the one to the other. “What happened with the woman's hair?”
Eleanor nodded at Charlene.
“Well,” Charlene started, unsure of herself. “This woman was sitting across from us, about two rows over. She was working on her laptop when all of a sudden I saw a great chunk of her hair lift up into the air.” Charlene lifted her own hair with one of her hands to illustrate. “And then the next thing it was as if her hair was cut and scattered all over her lap.”
“Really?” Rosewater asked.
She believed unconditionally in what her friend had said, but the question had to be asked. It sounded so weird when you really thought about it.
Eleanor nodded her head in confirmation. “For some reason, only I can see it.” She sighed as if it was a heavy burden to bear. “It took her hair, lifted it, and slashed it with one of its claws. Then it nonchalantly threw the hair into the air. It did other things as well, that Charlene couldn't see. But she and some others did see the hair, so I knew I wasn't going nuts. If it wasn't for that, I would have doubted my own sanity. I started doubting myself again yesterday, but that changed today.”
“What happened?” Rosewater was quick to ask.
“Later,” Eleanor nodded. “Let's try and get a timeline going here,” the investigative reporter in her said.
Rosewater nodded and looked expectantly at Charlene.
“I guess,” Charlene started and stopped. “It all started for me on the train.”
She swallowed and it seemed like a rough, dry stone the size of a golf ball was lodged in her throat. She didn't want to recall these emotions. She hated feeling threatened, frightened, not in control. She hated feeling so vulnerable. So exposed.
But she was amongst friends, and these two were some of the best you could ever hope to have. Th
ey always had your back. No matter what.
And so, she told them how the Thing had made her feel. How her eyes kept being drawn to a spot where nothing seemed out of the ordinary, but instinct insisted there was something there. She told them how she had wanted to run. How her brain felt as if it was being scratched across its surface. How vulnerable she felt at being watched by the unknown. How wrong it had felt.
Because she saw that her friends believed her, Charlene didn't hold back. Rosewater believed her because Eleanor had been there and had experienced the same kind of terror. The true test would come in with what Charl had to say next.
“And now,” her voice faltered.
She hated her body letting her down like that. More than anything else in the world, she hated showing weakness. Especially in front of her friends. If they ever pitied her, she would kill herself. She steeled herself and uttered the dreaded words.
“Now I'm hearing voices.”
“Voices?” Eleanor asked. This was something new.
Charlene nodded upwards, her eyes following the roof to the side of the house. “From the attic.”
“What are they saying?” Eleanor asked.
“Don't know.” Charlene shrugged. She looked angry, her eyes ablaze as if she was ready to find these voices and choke the life from them. “They started as soft whispering. Now they're up to talking level. But it's all garbled, as if it's a large group of people crammed into a ballroom, all talking at once.”
Eleanor nodded.
“I think I started hearing them as well,” Rosewater said softly.
It was as if a lifeline had been thrown to Charlene. Hope replaced the murderous anger and self-doubt.
“When? Where?”
“Earlier,” Rosewater answered. “When we left the attic. I could have sworn I heard whispering from the box.”
“Box?” Eleanor asked.
Both girls nodded and stood up. “Let's show her,” Charlene said.
“Can you hear it now?” Eleanor asked as they crowded around the wooden box in the attic.
Stirring Embers: An urban fantasy action adventure (The Light and the Void Book 1) Page 16