Symmetry's Shadow Chapter 2

II

“What Doofus?” Paul asked, clearly irritated with his younger brother for appearing in his doorway. Randy looked at his brother and then down at the broken glass on the floor and then back up at his brother.
“I came to see if you needed some help cleaning up.” It sounded as unnatural to Randy as the words left his mouth as it must have to Paul when he heard them. The two of them faced each other, Randy standing and Paul crouching. There was a silence between them that wasn’t filled with the usual tension and suspicion. Randy could tell that Paul was thinking about asking him what he was so freaked out about and was relieved when he took a more familiar course instead.
“OK Doofus, if you want to help, sweep the glass onto a piece of cardboard and go throw it out.” Paul said this with only superficial impatience. Randy could see that his brother was aware of his distress but didn’t want Randy to have to explain it if he didn’t want to.
Randy walked over to the box that Paul had indicated and tore a flap off of the top. He crouched down and began to carefully pick up fragments of glass and place them on the cardboard. It wasn’t hard because most of them were large enough to get a good hold on. Paul picked the remaining pieces out of the frame and placed them on the cardboard.
Randy knew that if he didn’t tell his brother right now about seeing the man in the field then it would just get harder and harder to tell him until it would become impossible. Why couldn’t he tell him? Paul might make fun of him and call him a scared little girl afraid of the bogeyman sneaking around in the back yard. But Randy knew that on some level his brother would take him seriously.
“What was it like Paul?” he asked. “I mean when we moved from Walnutport to Lehigh Furnace and you had to start at a new school?” It wasn’t exactly the subject that Randy had intended to bring up but it was a topic that had been troubling him. At least it had seemed important until he had looked out his bedroom window. Was that man still out there? Should they call the police? Maybe he should take Paul over to the window right now while he still had a little bit of nerve.
“I was seven years old and in second grade. It was February second when I went to my first day of school at Furnace,” his brother said more quietly and slowly than he usually talked. The two of them didn’t look at each other as Paul spoke; they both just looked down at the cardboard flap with the broken glass on it. Direct eye contact was reserved for exchanges of insults.
“I didn’t like how the teacher introduced me to the whole class like that. I mean, Mom dropped me off at the office and after I did some stuff there for a few minutes, one of the office ladies walked me over to the first and second grade hall and right into Mrs. Linder’s room. I can’t remember what they were talking about, but the teacher stopped the class and told them my name and that I was coming from Walnutport. I didn’t like that. I just wanted her to get her hand off of my shoulder so I could sit down and pretend that I had been going to school there for a long time.”
Paul looked back over his shoulder at the empty window frame. A breeze blew in that smelled like fall.
"A couple of the guys razzed me a little bit for a while. You remember Chad Dougway?”
"Yeah, I think so."
"Kieth Stebits?"
"Ummm yeah, he played hockey didn't he?"
Paul nodded. “Both of them did things for a couple months like cut ahead of me in line at the cafeteria or play keep-away with my lunch. It was all kid’s stuff. When you get to be my age you’ll understand that.” Paul smiled through the last part and Randy couldn’t help but to smile back as he exhaled in mock disbelief.
“Besides Doofus, I don’t think it’ll be like that for you based on what I’ve heard about the Caladagia school system. “
“Why?” Randy asked. Now he was looking at his brother.
“Well, let me put it this way, you remember that prison movie we saw the other day?”
“Paul!”
“Remember what it was like for that accountant when he first got into the prison?”
“Paul!” Randy was laughing now. A little nervously but he was still laughing.
“You might have to kill someone on your first day Doofus,” Paul said bursting put laughing himself. Randy picked up the cardboard with the glass on it and started to leave the room.
“You’d best grow yuself eye’n the back of yoah head befoe you grow yoah self a shank in yoah back,” Paul said to Randy in a perfect immitation of the wise black convict who had taken the nieve accountant under his wing. It was a line that had drawn laughter from the two of them every day since they had seen the movie on TV. Only this time as Randy carried the cardboard and broken glass down the back stairs, the laughter felt a little forced.
“Well its nice to see you two being so cooperative. Of course he shouldn’t have been trying to knock that widow open with a board in the first place.”
Randy’s mother, Sandra to others her own age or Sandy to her friends, was watching Randy search the kitchen for a place to discard the broken glass. Sandy put her hand to her chin and hummed as she tried to decide on an appropriate place to get rid of the wreckage of Paul’s home improvement project.
“I think there are some trash cans on the side porch, you can just dump it in one of them.” The back porch or anywhere on the back side of the house was not where Randy wanted to go.
He considered sharing what he saw in the field behind the house with his mother, who had been relieved of moving-truck watch by his father, but dismissed the idea. Even though Randy wasn’t sure he would be believed, that wasn’t the real issue. There was something about the way that the man had looked at him. There was a desperation, a sense of impending disaster that was only very percariously being held at bay. Randy felt that if he responded to the situation of the bearded man hiding in the field in the wrong way, then some huge unspeakable calamity would hit. Since he had no idea what the right course of action in this situation could be, he decided it would be best to ignore it for now and hope it would go away.
But it was very hard to ignore. No matter how hard he tried to put it out of his mind, it kept coming back. He tried to convince himself that he had imagined what he saw. He had been through a lot in that day already, maybe he was just a bit stressed. But this wouldn’t work. The bearded man in the field had looked as real to him as his mother standing in front of him inspecting the interior of the cupboards.
Suppose there really was a bearded man lying down in the field behind the house. So what? Was he doing anything that was against the law? Maybe he was the man that lived in that gray house. Maybe he was some sort of a bug collector and he had to get down really close to the ground to find all of the really good bugs. That’s why it would look like he was hiding.
However, this second option didn’t really comfort Randy any more than the first one. It wasn’t just that the bug collecting idea was a bit far-fetched, it was that Randy knew that that was not what the man had been doing. If the two of them hadn’t made eye contact, then Randy might have been able to dismiss the man as some sort of eccentric, like the crazy guy that his Aunt Vera had married.
When the two of them had made eye contact, Randy had understood somehow that the bearded man in the field was involved in something very serious - more serious than a house without electricity or a moving truck that was late or a window that wouldn’t open. As strange and as long as the rest of the day had been up until that point - the loss of his friends and home, the endless trip in the car, the squabbling between members of the family - none of it seemed as real and disturbing as the look in the eyes of that man.
“Randy, I said I think there are some trashcans on the side porch. I don’t know what sort of recycling bin broken glass would go into around here, but I’m sure it’ll be OK out there for now. I just don’t want that in here,” she said gesturing to the debris Randy was holding, “someone’s going to cut themselves.”
“OK Mom, I’ll get rid of it.”
Randy opened the door to the back porch and stepped out. Holding the door open with one hand, he scanned the field as quickly as he could. Nothing. No sign of that man.
“Randeee, close the door! You’re going to let all of the bugs in!”
He let the door slam shut and went over to the trash cans at the far end of the porch without ever taking his eyes off of the field. Without looking, he lifted the lid off of one of the cans and tipped the II

“What Doofus?” Paul asked, clearly irritated with his younger brother for appearing in his doorway. Randy looked at his brother and then down at the broken glass on the floor and then back up at his brother.
“I came to see if you needed some help cleaning up.” It sounded as unnatural to Randy as the words left his mouth as it must have to Paul when he heard them. The two of them faced each other, Randy standing and Paul crouching. There was a silence between them that wasn’t filled with the usual tension and suspicion. Randy could tell that Paul was thinking about asking him what he was so freaked out about and was relieved when he took a more familiar course instead.
“OK Doofus, if you want to help, sweep the glass onto a piece of cardboard and go throw it out.” Paul said this with only superficial impatience. Randy could see that his brother was aaware of his distress but didn’t want Randy to have to explain it if he didn’t want to.
Randy walked over to the box that Paul had indicated and tore a flap off of the top. He crouched down and began to carefully pick up fragments of glass and place them on the cardboard. It wasn’t hard because most of them were large enough to get a good hold on. Paul picked the remaining pieces out of the frame and placed them on the cardboard.
Randy knew that if he didn’t tell his brother right now about seeing the man in the field then it would just get harder and harder to tell him until it would become impossible. Why couldn’t he tell him? Paul might make fun of him and call him a scared little girl afraid of the bogeyman sneaking around in the back yard. But Randy knew that on some level his brother would take him seriously.
“What was it like Paul?” he asked. “I mean when we moved from Walnutport to Lehigh Furnace and you had to start at a new school?” It wasn’t exactly the subject that Randy had intended to bring up but it was a topic that had been troubling him. At least it had seemed important until he had looked out his bedroom window. Was that man still out there? Should they call the police? Maybe he should take Paul over to the window right now while he still had a little bit of nerve.
“I was seven years old and in second grade. It was February second when I went to my first day of school at Furnace,” his brother said more quietly and slowly than he usually talked. The two of them didn’t look at each other as Paul spoke; they both just looked down at the cardboard flap with the broken glass on it. Direct eye contact was reserved for exchanges of insults.
“I didn’t like how the teacher introduced me to the whole class like that. I mean, Mom dropped me off at the office and after I did some stuff there for a few minutes, one of the office ladies walked me over to the first and second grade hall and right into Mrs. Linder’s room. I can’t remember what they were talking about, but the teacher stopped the class and told them my name and that I was coming from Walnutport. I didn’t like that. I just wanted her to get her hand off of my shoulder so I could sit down and pretend that I had been going to school there for a long time.”
Paul looked back over his shoulder at the empty window frame. A breeze blew in that smelled like fall.
"A couple of the guys razzed me a little bit for a while. You remember Chad Dougway?”
"Yeah, I think so."
"Kieth Stebits?"
"Ummm yeah, he played hockey didn't he?"
Paul nodded. “Both of them did things for a couple months like cut ahead of me in line at the cafeteria or play keep-away with my lunch. It was all kid’s stuff. When you get to be my age you’ll understand that.” Paul smiled through the last part and Randy couldn’t help but to smile back as he exhaled in mock disbelief.
“Besides Doofus, I don’t think it’ll be like that for you based on what I’ve heard about the Caladagia school system. “
“Why?” Randy asked. Now he was looking at his brother.
“Well, let me put it this way, you remember that prison movie we saw the other day?”
“Paul!”
“Remember what it was like for that accountant when he first got into the prison?”
“Paul!” Randy was laughing now. A little nervously but he was still laughing.
“You might have to kill someone on your first day Doofus,” Paul said bursting put laughing himself. Randy picked up the cardboard with the glass on it and started to leave the room.
“You’d best grow yuself eye’n the back of yoah head befoe you grow yoah self a shank in yoah back,” Paul said to Randy in a perfect immitation of the wise black convict who had taken the nieve accountant under his wing. It was a line that had drawn laughter from the two of them every day since they had seen the movie on TV. Only this time as Randy carried the cardboard and broken glass down the back stairs, the laughter felt a little forced.
“Well its nice to see you two being so cooperative. Of course he shouldn’t have been trying to knock that widow open with a board in the first place.”
Randy’s mother, Sandra to others her own age or Sandy to her friends, was watching Randy search the kitchen for a place to discard the broken glass. Sandy put her hand to her chin and hummed as she tried to decide on an appropriate place to get rid of the wreckage of Paul’s home improvement project.
“I think there are some trash cans on the side porch, you can just dump it in one of them.” The back porch or anywhere on the back side of the house was not where Randy wanted to go.
He considered sharing what he saw in the field behind the house with his mother, who had been relieved of moving-truck watch by his father, but dismissed the idea. Even though Randy wasn’t sure he would be believed, that wasn’t the real issue. There was something about the way that the man had looked at him. There was a desperation, a sense of impending disaster that was only very percariously being held at bay. Randy felt that if he responded to the situation of the bearded man hiding in the field in the wrong way, then some huge unspeakable calamity would hit. Since he had no idea what the right course of action in this situation could be, he decided it would be best to ignore it for now and hope it would go away.
But it was very hard to ignore. No matter how hard he tried to put it out of his mind, it kept coming back. He tried to convince himself that he had imagined what he saw. He had been through a lot in that day already, maybe he was just a bit stressed. But this wouldn’t work. The bearded man in the field had looked as real to him as his mother standing in front of him inspecting the interior of the cupboards.
Suppose there really was a bearded man lying down in the field behind the house. So what? Was he doing anything that was against the law? Maybe he was the man that lived in that gray house. Maybe he was some sort of a bug collector and he had to get down really close to the ground to find all of the really good bugs. That’s why it would look like he was hiding.
However, this second option didn’t really comfort Randy any more than the first one. It wasn’t just that the bug collecting idea was a bit far-fetched, it was that Randy knew that that was not what the man had been doing. If the two of them hadn’t made eye contact, then Randy might have been able to dismiss the man as some sort of eccentric, like the crazy guy that his Aunt Vera had married.
When the two of them had made eye contact, Randy had understood somehow that the bearded man in the field was involved in something very serious - more serious than a house without electricity or a moving truck that was late or a window that wouldn’t open. As strange and as long as the rest of the day had been up until that point - the loss of his friends and home, the endless trip in the car, the squabbling between members of the family - none of it seemed as real and disturbing as the look in the eyes of that man.
“Randy, I said I think there are some trashcans on the side porch. I don’t know what sort of recycling bin broken glass would go into around here, but I’m sure it’ll be OK out there for now. I just don’t want that in here,” she said gesturing to the debris Randy was holding, “someone’s going to cut themselves.”
“OK Mom, I’ll get rid of it.”
Randy opened the door to the back porch and stepped out. Holding the door open with one hand, he scanned the field as quickly as he could. Nothing. No sign of that man.
“Randeee, close the door! You’re going to let all of the bugs in!”
He let the door slam shut and went over to the trash cans at the far end of the porch without ever taking his eyes off of the field. Without looking, he lifted the lid off of one of the cans and tipped the cardboard allowing the glass to fall all over the floor of the porch.
“Dammit!” he exclaimed taking his eyes off of the field for the first time.
“Randee! Don’t use that kind of language!” his mother called through the kitchen widow, “and in the new house too!” How long would they have to live there before he could say dammit? Or for that matter, ass? He had already heard his father use a few choice words that day. He crouched down and began carefully picking up pieces of glass and putting them back on the cardboard. He should have let Paul do this. What was he doing now?
As much as Randy hated to admit it, he would’ve felt a bit better if his brother was out here with him. Mostly because he was spooked by what he had seen out his window but there was also another reason. Paul represented a bridge to more familiar things. This day had a very weird feel to it. So far just about everything that had happened since they had left Lehigh Furnace had seemed strange and unpredictable. Even his parents didn’t seem like their usual selves. Randy knew that he certainly didn’t feel like himself. Paul, on the other hand, had kept a firm grip on his own obnoxious ways throughout the entire ordeal. It was almost as if Paul had already been through all of this before and already knew how everything was going to turn out. When Randy was with Paul he knew exactly what role he was expected to play: that of the Doofus. This was probably why he had fled to his brother’s room immediately after he had seen the man in the field.
Ouch! A small sharp pain slid into Randy’s index finger as he picked up the last long shard of glass. He saw his own blood ooze out onto its dirty surface. Why was this piece of glass shaped like that? Did it have to be shaped like that? Randy had had feelings of Dejavu before but the one that hit him now was far more overwhelming than any he had felt before. He was suddenly engulfed in the sensation that this was not the first time that he had had these exact thoughts while looking at a piece of bloody glass. It was as if he was remembering the present before it happened. He was recalling his own thoughts before he even had the chance to create them. This has happened before, he thought, but maybe not exactly like this. All that was missing was the sound of his father screaming at the top of his lungs.
This last thought had a jarring impact on Randy and he immediately dashed the fragment of glass into the trash can. The sense of events repeating broke with the sound of breaking glass. What was that all about?
Randy immediately missed his friends again. He missed the way his whole life had been. Could he ever get used to living here? He started in the kitchen door to get a band-aid but paused long enough to look back out at the field. Was that man still out there?
His mother was peeking at September on a calendar that the previous occupants of the house had left behind. The picture above the month was of a cat raking leaves.
“Randy, do you realize that classes start at your new school in just four days?”
The cat did not look happy about raking leaves. Randy wished he could trade places with him.