The Dark Man Chapter Three

Chapter Three (First read the previous chapters)

The next morning Pete woke up bright and early. He got ready for the day and made breakfast. He did the things he normally did every morning, until a knock came at his door. "I'm comin'!" Pete shouted. He pulled open the door and saw that the visitor was the boy. The boy looked just as he did yesterday but something was different. He had a dark bruise around his eye.

"What happened to you?" Pete asked.

"Got into a fight with some other kids 'round the neighborhood," the boy answered.

"And why did you get involved into a fight?"

"None of your business sir," the boy was contemptuous towards Pete this morning and Pete immediately understood that he did not want to talk about it.

"You're right. It ain't none of my business." The boy looked surprised that Pete did not correct him for his rude behavior. Nevertheless, he left for the shed without another word. Pete closed the door. He wondered what he could do for the boy. He felt bad for him and thought that maybe a nice lunch would be good for him. The boy looked awfully think and probably had not had a decent lunch in weeks. Pete went to work right away and made a lunch with fresh apples and bread with jelly. Although, Pete didn't get groceries during the mornings or afternoons, he sometimes went during the evenings when not many people were around. It took him a while to get from his house to the grocery store and then back to his house again, but the fresh apples were worth it.

When Pete had finished chopping the apples into thin slices, spreading the jelly on the bread, and pouring two cups of lemonade, he called the boy to come up to the door.

"Yes sir?" the boy asked.

"Would you like some lunch?" Pete offered and at first the boy's eyes lit up, but then something made the lights turn off. "Is everything all right?"

"I'd have to go inside your house sir, and I'm not so sure I trust you," the boy acted as though he was trying not to speak rudely. Pete did not mind.

"It's okay boy. We can just have lunch on this here porch. Hold on a minute and I'll bring the plates and cups outside. It might take a while, but I don't see no harm with havin' lunch outside. It's a fine day anyway. Why spend it indoors when you can spend it outdoors instead?" The boy smiled and Pete went inside to get the two meals. When everything was all situated, the two of them started to eat.

"I've never had a grandfather sir," the boy started.

"Oh?"

"You remind me of how a grandfather would be. Course I never had one so I can't really say. But all my friends describe them like how you are."

"That's a good thing, right?" Pete asked.

"Yeah, it's a good thing sir," the boy laughed. After a while of talking the boy decided to ask a more personal question. "You know all those stories of you killin' people and all sir?"

"Mhmm?"

"I know that they're no true now, but why is it that if they're not true, you let them get to you?" The boy raised and eyebrow and then took another bite of bread. Jelly smeared onto his upper lip and he wiped it off quickly.

"How do they get to me?" Pete did not understand what the boy was trying to say.

"You never come out durin' the daytime and you don't got any friends. You don't ever go into town and buy stuff like normal adults. Stuff like that. Is it cuz you're afraid sir?"

Pete had never thought about it that way before. "Yeah, I suppose I am somewhat afraid, but I do got friends and I do go into town sometimes durin' the evenin'."

"Well, I think that you're just bein' a coward. You got to stand up for yourself and tell people that you ain't no The Dark Man. You have to one day."

"I'm a very old man now and I don't feel the need to no more. I could've let my voice be heard maybe fifteen years ago, but now I'm just too darn old," Pete tried explaining.

"That's stupid sir. It just ain't right. It just ain't. Any you got friends? I don't see any comin' over," the boy made some great points, which frustrated Pete. Pete was a coward and that made him upset. If only he were fifteen years younger, maybe he could do something about it. But now, he was practically immobile. He could barely take his walks anymore. How could he go door to door telling people that he was not some crazy old kook?

"I got friends. I got Muriel. She's a good friend. And...and..." Pete stuttered, trying to think of his other friends. He couldn't come up with anymore.

"Muriel? When do you see her?" the boy wondered.

"Now and then," Pete half-lied.

"When was the last time?" the boy pushed. He would not give up so Pete did instead.

"I haven't seen her in years?" Pete exclaimed.

"Why?"

"I don't know boy. I just haven't. I guess I lost track of time. Days turned into weeks, which turned into months. And then the months turned into years."

"Do you know where she lives?"

"Yes boy, why?"

"We could go see her." By this time, Pete had thought the boy had gone mad. They could not just go over to Muriel’s could they. It would be rude without an invitation.

"No."

"Why not? She's your friend, right?"

"She was my friend. She probably forgot all about me."

"No one could forget you sir. That's impossible! You're far too interestin' of a person to forget."

"Thank you boy, but no. Maybe another day." Pete knew he was making up excuses, but he did not know how Muriel would react to seeing Pete standing in her doorway with some skinny boy by his side. Muriel might not even recognize him. He had grown older with the years. Age had caught up to him in the past few years.

"I don't get it sir. You just want to sit here and wait 'till you die? You got to live," the boy said.

"I'm breathin' and I'm walkin'. That sure seems like livin' to me," Pete retorted.

"That's not livin' sir. That's passin' by days. Come on sir. Let's go to Muriel's," the boy stared Pete directly in the face and Pete started to wonder.

Pete's mind went back to the night before and how he was thinking that his life resembled a schedule. He had said that he was going to do something different tomorrow, which was today. And right now was his opportunity and Pete was throwing it away. He was running away from it, because of his fear. What should he be afraid of? Rudeness? If Muriel remembered Pete at all, she would be very happy to see him.

"All right boy." I'll go," Pete gave in. The boy had convinced the old man and the boy whooped in his victory.

"Then come on sir. We should get goin'. By now, it must be 'bout 1:00 in the afternoon," the boy told Pete. Pete smiled at the boy's enthusiasm. "If we leave now, we'll return 'round 5:00, I think. Does that sound right to you sir?"

"Yes boy. That sounds 'bout right," Pete fetched his cane at the side of the house and proceeded to walk down the road. He hesitated though. This would be the first time in so long that he would actually be leaving his home during the afternoon. At least he would not be alone. He had the boy for company and soon he would be able to see his friend Muriel.

(Chapter Four is completed!)