Chapter III

Chapter III

 

The boy did not sleep that night. Remembering Katy’s instructions, he did eventually find his way to the old house, but when he did, the boy could not help but feel guilty for leaving. He lay on the old couch with his jacket pulled up to his chin with his head resting on his bag looking up through a hole in the ceiling into a room upstairs.

The black hole in the ceiling looked like a mouth, smiling malevolently as if an evil spirit had possessed the house in the dark of the night and was waiting for the boy to shut his eyes so it could gobble him up. The boy stared into the mouth until the impenetrable darkness of the mouth began to lighten. When finally the morning light slayed the demon, the boy could see the hole opened up into the room above him. Curious, the boy made his way to the stairs and ascended the, going first to the room with the broken window and abandoned baseball. The boy looked but saw no hole in the floor; the floor of the empty room was likewise unobstructed. When the boy came to the locked door, he hesitated-- the black smooth metal of the handle was cold in the boys hand as he stood there holding it. The boy turned the handle and felt it catch; just as it had the first day he had tried to open the door. He did this less out of conformation that the door was locked, only that he would have force open another lock. Taking a deep breath the boy let go of the handle and walked back downstairs. Retrieving his bag from the couch, the boy rummaged through its sparse contents until he found the same two pieces of metal he had used to open the front door. Walking back to the locked door, the boy inserted both pieces into the keyhole and began to manipulate the internal structures of the lock.

When the lock finally clicked open, the boy turned the handle and entered the room. The room was large, and, for the most part, was still furnished. The far wall was less of a wall and more of one large window with a door that opened onto the balcony, and through that dusty window, the sky outside was a deep grey and heavy with rain.

Against the wall was a beautiful four-poster bed. Though it was devoid of curtains and mattress, and time had withered it somewhat, the elegance in the artisanship was still evident. On the wall opposite the bed there were two doorways; one was open and led into another bathroom, the other was closed. The boy walked to the closed door and experimentally turned the handle.  When it turned all the way and the door clicked open the boy hesitated, he had not been expecting the door to have been unlocked. Swinging the door inward and stepping inside, the boy found he was standing in a closet. It consisted of a rail along the wall to the boy’s right and a shelf above the rail. Against the wall in front of the boy there was an ancient bureau that contained a few empty drawers and dust. The bottom drawer was locked and no amount of twisting and manipulation could open the archaic lock.

The boy walked back into the room and looked back out the window. The balcony seemed to be in good shape. The boy walked to the door and opened it; cautiously placing a foot on the worn planks, the boy tested his weight. When the board gave no protest, the boy placed his full weight on it and stepped out. Hearing nothing but the rush of wind through the trees, the boy relaxed and walked along the balcony and eventually rounded to the front of the house.

Hanging from the rafters by two lengths of chain was a large swinging bench-- a strong gust of wind rushed down the street leaving the bench swinging. The air was warm, but every time the wind blew, it brought with it the chill of autumn.

Sitting down, the boy began to think about leaving; he had only been in the old house for three days, but in those three days he had drawn more attention to himself than he had in three weeks of rest he had taken once during his travels. He was roused from his thoughts when a particularly cold gust of wind made him lift his head. In front of him, the great pine swayed a bit, and the boy watched it mesmerized by its sporadic tempo. The wind was strong enough to send some of the smaller trees into sporadic frenzies of twisting and torquing. The great pine stood tall and strong only moving as far as necessary, and the trees all appeared to be dancing. The great pine swayed in tempo with the song of the rushing of wind. Soon the wind was accented by the staccato beats of raindrops on the tin roof of the old house. The rain began to crescendo and shift into tremolo, never ceasing but with enough variation for some of the individual notes to be heard. The boy listened to the cacophonous symphony of nature. He took a deep breath just before the thunder boomed like a great kettle drum. The leaves rustled in the wind like shiny brass cymbals, the high pitched creaking and wining of the old house like a chorus of violins, and all the while a choir of wind sang. The boy closed his eyes and leaned back, enjoying the sounds of a storm.

 

Mitchell Carter is young, no more than five or six. He sits on the floor in the corner of a small general store. The store is cold, but his back is to the vent of the freezer and the warm air encompasses him. Behind the register, young Mitchell Carter’s grandmother is handing a man his change. There is a flash of light, and a loud bang. Young Mitchell Carter does not see the man, only a black silhouette of a man as he flees the store with the black money box. Young Mitchell Carter’s grandfather is beside his wife, shouting into the phone that is in one hand, the other trying desperately to stop the bleeding. Young Mitchell Carter is whisked away to a hospital, where he only remembers white walls, the smell of soap, and candy that smells of glue.

Pain, mind bending, soul tearing pain, Mitchell Carter, older now, is in a hospital for the first time since he was a small boy, the walls are still white, the smell of soap still permeates the air and Mitchell Carter is screaming in agony.  He does not scream for long. Men and women he does not know surround him, and a feeling like liquid sunlight begins spreading thorough his body and then slowly fades away. As it does Mitchell Carter falls into the deepest sleep of his life…

A sleep from which he may never awaken from…

 

David Black opened his eyes, awaking to the smell of freshly fallen rain. The sun, low in the horizon, hovered, as if deciding whether to continue its journey. David shivered and moved to the only portion of the balcony that was not covered in shadow and looked out over the sunset. Then, turning around, he saw the storm, lightning temporarily illuminating different groups of clouds.  David stood there and watched both the storm drift away and the sun drop further and further before finally falling below the horizon, then, in the pseudo-darkness of the young night, David made his way back inside and down the stairs. Pulling on his jacket to ward off the chill the night had brought, he settled down on the couch and prepared to go back to sleep when three sharp knocks on the door jolted him back to alertness. David was silent for a moment, hoping that he had been mistaken and the knocks on the door were his imagination.  Seconds went by, and there were three more knocks on the door, compared to the science he was accustomed to the knocks were like gunshots. David held his breath. An exasperated groan emanated from the opposite side of the door, and David recognized the groan. It was Katy. David slowly exhaled and made his way to the foyer. For a third time, three knocks shattered the silence of the old house. David wanted to open the door; however, he knew that if he did he would have a hard time explaining why he was in the old house, and an even harder time leaving the town after that.

“Damn it, David Black!” David heard her yell from the other side of the door. “I swear the next time I see you I’m going to kick your a*s!”

David did not move, did not breathe, and did not think of anything other than that his hiding place could not be exposed. As soon as it was, he would be forced to run, But David Black was tired of running. A weariness had set into him, as if his skin were made of stone and his bones made of lead. To David, every heartbeat seemed to extract every ounce of strength he had. So he did not move, for fear of alerting Katy to his presence, so instead he listened to Katie fume for a moment, grumbling under her breath until she finally shouted, “David, if you didn’t lie to me, if you really do live on this street, then your hat is at my house, and if you want it back, you are going to have to come and get it.”

David’s stomach lurched. The hat, how could he have forgotten the hat? From the other side of the door, the sounds of Katie leaving made his heart beat faster as he fought the urge to open the door and run after her and get his hat back.

Mitchell Carter would have run out and graciously thank her for bringing him his hat, then he would shrug off the question as to why he had been in the house and spend the evening with Katy… but Mitchell Carter was dead…

David Black wanted to come clean, explain as much as he could, then beg Katy not to tell anyone. He would take his hat and return into the old house, perhaps inviting her in.  David Black wanted the world around him to be blind, so that he could live without worrying about whether or not he should leave town, whether or not he should stay for dessert, whether he should turn right or left.

The boy who stood by the door in the old house knew these things, and he held them in check. The boy wanted these things too, but the boy understood that if he went outside, if he opened the door, if he even breathed a sigh of relief that was overheard, months of travel and avoiding contact would be for naught, he would be discovered, and asked questions, and then would be forced to relinquish controll…

Mitchell Carter, David Black, and the boy stood behind the front door, silent and still. Praying, hoping, and waiting.

The sounds of Katy walking away made their way past the door. David Black stayed where he was for a few moments, until he was sure she was gone, and then he exhaled explosively, not realizing until now that he had been holding his breath.  He moved over to one of the dining room windows and looked out. Katy was walking down the street at a brisk pace, the hat a wadded-up ball in her hand. David waited until she turned left at the end of the street before he opened the door and ran out. Sprinting down the street in the opposite direction of the one Katy had taken, David turned left and continued running. He head hurt but not overly so. Continuing to run down a street he had not been on previously, David took another left as soon as possible. Puddles were strewn across the street David turned onto. It had a wide bend in the middle. The bend prevented David from seeing the far end of the street, he continued running to the apex of the bend then slowed to a walk. Rounding the bend David looked toward the end of the street.  Save for a few birds busily picking through the grass for half-drowned worms to enjoy for an early evening snack, the intersection was vacant.

                David sighed; he had lost Mitchell Carter’s hat, one of the last things that Mitchell Carter owned. He straightened himself; Mitchell Carter was dead, but David Black was alive and well, and he intended to keep on living. He was no longer Mitchell Carter, and he doubted he would ever be Mitchell Carter again. He was no longer the boy whose only purpose was survival. He was David Black now, and wished to stay that way until his final days.

The blue light of the evening was suddenly cut as the streetlamps turned on, the sudden change startled David, but the birds, seemingly accustomed to the sudden interruption of the natural cycle of day and night, did not react in the slightest. David continued to walk towards the intersection. As he drew closer, the birds all took flight-- someone had startled them. Running out of the small flock, madly waving her arms about, smiling joyously, her blond hair lank with the late summer rain, was Katy.

As Katy stood in the glow of the lamplight, and the rustle of feathers dying away, David stepped forward out of shadow and into the pool of light.

“So do you always take so much joy in terrorizing birds?” David asked.

Startled, Katy reeled around to see David Black standing behind her.

“You scared me” she said.

 “Payback’s a pain… is that my hat?” he inquired casually, gesturing to the wad of tan fabric on her hand.

                “It could be,” Katy said defensively, “and if it is, what are you going to do to get it back?”

                “Uh, ask?”

                “Nice try, but no. You could start by explaining why you disappeared instead of eating dessert.”

David had to lie again. He did not like it, but he knew there was no way he could tell the truth and avoid the onslaught of questions that Katy would ask. Thinking quickly, David said that he had to be home before a set time or he would be in trouble. He said that he was late as it was and he didn’t have time to explain before he left.

“I was trying to find your house today, so I could explain, but… I couldn’t find where you lived… and well… that’s my hat,” he finished timidly.

“I guess that makes sense,” she said, holding his hat out to him.

David extended his hand and took hold of the hat, but Katy did not let go. The two of them stood there for a few moments before Katy finally released the hat from her grasp. However, when she did, she reached forward and grabbed David’s hand. Again, David felt an odd sensation sweep through him as their skin touched.

“Um,” he began but he was silenced by the look in Katy’s eyes.

Her eyes-- that was the first time he had noticed them-- they were a deep emerald green, full of hope and warmth, kindness and love. He found himself staring into them with the profound urge to never look away. She pulled him in close to her, and while he, the boy and Mitchell Carter all knew that they should resist, break free from her grasp and run, not one of them tried. The next thing David, knew Katy was in his arms, and he was in hers, and the two of them were looking into each other’s eyes, into each other’s soul.

Katy stood up on the tips of her toes and kissed David lightly on the lips. It only lasted a second, but a second was all it took. She let go of him and retreated back into the darkness of the evening while David stood there looking after here as her dark silhouette eventually faded into the night.

And he felt his heart go with her.

David was unsure of how long he stood in the circle of light cast by the street lamp, long enough for the small flock that had alighted earlier to become accustomed to his presence and return to their foraging of saturated worms and waterlogged insects. David stood there until it began to rain again, then he made his way back to the old house, his face wet with tears as well as rain.

 

It rained the entire night, and the old house leaked. However, the boy had slept in worse conditions; the areas on the bottom floor were the driest so the boy took the sheets that had lain on the sofas and used them to make a pallet in the driest corner he could find.  Wrapping himself in his jacket, the boy lay curled into a tight ball, and waited for sleep to take him.

                            David Black is in a forest. Everything is green and supple, lush and growing. David Black walks through the forest, he is searching for something, or someone… David Black crosses a stream covered in vibrant green duckweed and runs through a clearing. Stars glimpsed briefly overhead, then back into the forest through dark green vines curling down from the canopy. The forest abruptly ends and David Black runs into a meadow. Looking around, he sees more stars than he has ever seen in his life. Tall grass, strewn with beads of dew, sway in the wind, flinging the miniscule droplets of water into the sky, so that they may reflect and refract the light of the stars and appear as diamonds. David Black watches as the drops hang there, creating an impenetrable wall of diamond, and in that wall, a massive door forms. David Black runs right and finds the wall never ends. David Black runs left, and finds the wall never ends. David Black stood in front of the door and waits and waits. David Black waits until the door opens, and when it does, just beyond the threshold, Katy Asher stands, smiling…

                            The boy awoke the next morning, refreshed. As pure morning light penetrated the curtains, the boy stood up and stretched. Avoiding the few puddles that had accumulated along the floor, the boy walked into a part of the house he had never really explored the kitchen. The kitchen had a small passageway that led into the dining room. Off the passageway there was a small walk in pantry, adjacent to the pantry, an alcove for a refrigerator. The alcove was on one side of a sink devoid of a faucet, on the other there was an old gas stove, and next to the stove, was a door. The boy walked to the door. It was as solid as the front door, but the doorknob was original, it was made of the same dark metal as the rest of the furnishings in the house. Along each side, a wing was engraved. The boy turned the knob and pushed the door, which did not budge. The boy pushed again, this time putting his weight behind the door, and with agonizing creak, and subsequent pop the door suddenly gave way. The boy lurched forward and fell onto the wooden deck of the back porch. Picking himself up, David Black found himself standing before a large open field, with waist-high grass, covered in water droplets, rippling and waving in the wind.