Symmetry's Shadow Chapter 3

III

“Yes Sandy, I did give them the right number.”
“But maybe they couldn’t read your handwriting - it is kind of sloppy some times, especially when you’re dealing through stress.”
“I’m sure its nothing,” David sighed in response to his wife’s increasing hysteria. They were sitting on the floor of the living room which was being swallowed by darkness as the evening turned into the night. They had a couple of flashlights and about half a dozen candles that Sandy had found along with matches in one of the kitchen cupbords. Their first meal in the new house was fried chicken out of a bucket from a place called “Papa Frank”. From the cartoon characters on the bucket, a short fat bald guy and a bunch of animals, it looked like Papa Frank’s was part of a chain of restaurants like McDonald’s or Burger King. Randy couldn’t remember ever seeing a Papa Frank’s anywhere around Lehigh Furnace or even in Allentown, which was the closest city of any size to Lehigh Furnace.
It looked like the cartoon guy named Papa Frank didn’t have any friends other than the animals on the farm and it looked as though that relationship could be tense at times. Apparently the on common interest they had was their love of the food offered by Papa Frank’s restaurant’s. But there didn’t seem to be enough food to satisfy everyone’s appetite. Hence the tension. Randy was getting ready to ask his brother about the implied cannibalism that this feeding arrangement entailed when Paul was suddenly struck by a thought.
“Dad can I take the batteries out of that flashlight and put them in the radio?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“But we don’t have any TV or anything. We should at least be able to listen to the radio!”
“Paul I said no. It’ll do you some good to go without TV for a change.”
Paul’s face shifted to an expression of exagerated confusion as he chewed and swallowed a mouthful of extra crispy chicken. “OK...Uhhh...I think I asked for batteries to put into a radio....ummmm not a TV - OK?”
“Don’t get smart young man,” David said automatically. Paul obviously sensed that he hadn’t irritated his parents enough so he tried something else.
“Besides, the TV is probably smashed all over route 81 along with everything else that we own. Ha ha!”
“Paul! That’s a terrible thing to say,” Sandy said. The emotion was obvious in her voice. There was a lot of tension in the room. Almost all of their belongings were missing. The TV alone was like a member of the family. Randy could only think of a few times in the last year when they had eaten dinner away from it. Without the TV they were forced to talk to each other for entertainment and that entertainment always seemed to come at the expense of at least one of them. Sandy was usually the easiest target.
The TV was an expert at making dinner time go smoothly at the Gardener household. Its absence was felt very acutely.
“So you need that flashlight to stay shinning on that bare patch of wall next to the Doofus?” Paul asked his father pointing to a plastic flashlight that was lying on the floor to Randy’s left. David glared at Paul for a moment, then he sighed and theatrically stuggled to retrieve his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans.
“Here,” he said with another sigh. “Take this and go down to the Gas and Go on the corner and buy some batteries for your damn radio.” Paul took the bill from his father, examined it in the light next to Randy and grinned.
“OK Doofus, you want to go for a walk?” Paul asked Randy holding the ten dollar bill in front of him. Randy knew that normally he would have welcomed the opportunity to get out of an unpleasant meal like this one and he almost snatched the money out of his brother’s hand and dashed out the door. Then he remembered the man in the field. He thought he had gotten over it a bit but now that it was dark and he was presented with the opportunity to go outside...
“You gonna go or not?” Paul asked flicking the bill against Randy’s nose.
“It was your idea Paul, you should go. If Randy wants to go with you he can,” David said pointing the flashlight at each of them as he said their names.
“OK, off I go.” Paul stood up and walked toward the front door.
“Paul...” Randy started. His brother stopped but didn’t turn around. Randy frantically tried to decide if he should tell his brother about what he saw in the field. He knew that Paul and his parents would think he was either lying or crazy but could he really allow his brother to go out into the night without any warning about what he had seen? Right at that moment his belief in the existence of that strange man was as strong as it had been when the original sighting had taken place.
“Don’t worry about it Doofus,” his brother said and walked out the door. Randy looked at his parents and then back at the front door. Should he say something? He thought he probably should but the words just couldn’t come out. He still had the sense that saying something would cause a lot of trouble. But he still didn’t know why he had that feeling. Fear and confusion coiled in his abdomen and he was swept by another wave of unreality. This day had easily been the longest day of his life. Was every day going to feel this long from now on?
Randy absent-mindedly picked up a half-eaten drumstick from his plate and then set it back down. He slid backward until he was up against the wall and tried to follow the conversation that his parents were having.
They were trying to figure out what had happened to the moving truck. Of the two of them, Sandy was the more pessimistic and worried. David seemed to have more faith in the abilities of the Columbus Moving Company, probably because the possibility of losing all of their stuff would be too much for his already over-burdened moving-sucks attitude. Davis speculated that they just had some mechanical trouble that might take until tomorrow to fix or to get another truck. Besides, he argued, everything was insured. The worst case scenario was that they would have to get new everything. While this idea seemed to cheer David quite a bit, it did not have the same effect on Sandy. She kept mentioning irreplaceable heirlooms but David insisted that all that stuff was crap.
“What about my grandmother’s mirror?” she asked in a squeaky voice.
“What about it? If it was so great why did she get rid of it?” David was just entertaining himself now. Randy was relieved that his father had this outlet because otherwise he would probably slip back into his moving-sucks mood.
“David! She didn’t get rid of it - she died!”
“Well...so she’s doing fine without it - why can’t we?”
“David! You know that insurance can never replace something like that. It’s one of the few things that I have to remember Ganny with!”
“A mirror.” David put the same look of exaggerated confusion on his face that infuriated him to see on Paul’s face. “Is her reflection still in it? Cause if it is-”
“What about your track trophies? Or Paul’s for that matter? Those can’t be replaced. How can you put a dollar value on things like that?” It was obvious that Sandy thought she had sent the ball over the net to s spot that her husband couldn’t possibly reach.
“We don’t need trophies to remember Paul. Isn’t that what’s most important? Family? Huh? Togetherness? Aren’t these the very values that Father Stan was trying to impart in his homily last week? Sandy... were you listening to Father Stan? Should I get him on the phone right now?” David held up his cell phone and turned to Randy. “Randy what time is it back in ‘Furnace right now? Would I be waking Father Stan if I called him to tell him that your mother never listened to his sermons?”
“Uhhh..it’s the same time there as it is here Dad.” Randy fought back a smile. He had way too much to worry about right now to smile. But his dad was on a roll.
“Are you sure about that Ran-man? All the way back in Furnace, its the same time as it is here?”
“Yes Dad.”
“So I guess the truck didn’t go into a time warp,” David said looking back at his wife who was also smiling now.
They sat in silence for a moment; the only sound was David chewing on a wing. Soon enough, Sandy picked up on another problem.
“Is it me or is it drafty in here?”
“Its going to be a little cool at night until I can get the furnace started,” David said removing a big piece of extra-crispy chicken from the dark interior of the tub.
“Did Paul put some plastic over the window he broke honey?”
David shrugged at his wife’s question and held the piece of chicken in front of his flashlight.
“I told him to.” Randy knew what was coming next.
“Randy,” his father said pointing the flashlight at him. “Why don’t you go upstairs and make sure your brother put plastic over the window that was broken.”
“I don’t feel a draft,” Randy lied. He knew his parents could tell that he was lying and he knew they could tell why he was lying. At least he believed they knew part of the reason.
“You can take this flashlight,” David said handing it over to him.
“Dad, it’s not like I can do anything about it if the plastic isn’t over the window.”
“Take a garbage bag and some tape with you. You don’t have to do a perfect job, just tape it up so it can hold over night. It’s supposed to rain tonight and I don’t want the floor up there getting wet.” Sandy shook her head emphatically when her husband got to the part about the floor getting wet. They were worried about the floor and Randy was worried about a crazy man sneaking around the neighborhood.
“Where are the garbage bags?” Randy asked without enthusiasm as he slowly slid against the wall to his feet.
“They’re in the kitchen on the floor honey - near the porch door. Do you want me to go with you?” His mother seemed very aware of Randy’s fear. This made him both relieved and embarrassed. When his brother was out of the house, Randy felt less of a need to appear independent and brave. But before he could answer David was already shaking his head.
“No Sandy let him handle this himself. If this guy isn’t afraid of Rattle Creek then he ain’t afraid of anything - right pal?” David slapped Randy on the back. He was able to stand up a little straighter with the reference to Rattle Creek. ON one level, Randy was aware that his father was manipulating him but that didn’t make much of a difference - he liked when his dad talked to him like that but it was usually when Paul wasn’t around.
Randy pointed the flashlight ahead and walked into the kitchen. As soon as his socks left the carpet of the living room floor and stepped on to the colder harder linoleum floor of the kitchen, he started to feel vulnerable again.
“Once more into the breach dear friends, once more into the breach,” his dad called from behind him in his funny Shakespeare voice. Sandy laughed even though she must have heard him recite that line in that voice a million times over the years.
Without leaving the kitchen doorway, Randy shined the flashlight over by the porch door and located the box of garbage bags. After sweeping the light around the kitchen again, Randy went over and pulled a bag out of the box.
Now for the hard part, he thought. He walked over to the two side by side doors and tried to remember which one led to the basement and which one led to the back stairs. He shined the flashlight on each one hoping to get some kind of clue but nothing jogged his memory. As he stood facing the two doors he realized his back was to the porch door which in turn led to the fence and the field. If that man was still out there he could probably see the light bouncing around the kitchen. He could probably tell that whoever was shinning the light was lost.
Randy started to feel very vulnerable. He reached for the doorknob on the left and immediately knew that it was the wrong one but pulled anyway because he knew that no matter which one he picked first it would be the wrong one.
It was the door to the basement. He stared down the stairs for a moment. Beyond the area illuminated by his flashlight, everything was lost in darkness. Until a pale bluish light filled everything for an instant. This was enough to startle Randy into taking an involuntary step back and letting out a startled yelp. He also let go of the flashlight which bounced down the stairs and then skipped off the open landing before landing on and rolling across the basement floor. A moment later a sharp crack of thunder followed by a prolonged rumbling sent him into a crouch.
“Rand - you OK out there?” It was his father.
“Yeah Dad,” he responded with a little exasperation. “I’m fine, I just dropped the freakin flashlight down into the basement!” He could see the cone of light pushing out into the darkness at an odd angle away from the stairs and into the corner toward the front of the house.
“Cripes,” he said to himself just loudly enough to let his parents know that he was going through a real ordeal just to check on a window. He could hear his mother talking in a low voice - a low worried voice that his father would respond to reassuringly. He guessed that his mother thought he needed some help and that his father was insisting that it would be better if he did this alone. Again Randy felt that odd combination of pride and disappointment. Now however, more fear was added.
He probed the darkness on the other side of the doorway with his foot to make sure that the stairs were still there and then slowly started down, all the while keeping one hand on the railing and the other slicing through the black in front of him.
“Maybe you better hurry Randy, this is the storm they said was going to come out of the north.” David again. As Randy made the landing and turned he thought he heard his mother asking about Paul’s safety. When he reached the basement floor and started groping his way to the flashlight, Randy thought about his brother. This led him to compare the dangers of being outside where that strange man was lurking verses being down in this tomb-like basement. He could see a little light through the windows but none of it made it very far beyond to do him much good.
Bending down and picking up the flashlight, Randy realized it had been illuminating the canopy-covered pile in the corner. He stared at it for a moment and slowly backed up not wanting to turn his back to it. That was when the light from the flashlight began to flicker and then die. Randy smacked it a couple of times with the palm of his hand . He shook it. The flashlight stayed dark. It must have been damaged in the fall, Randy thought. Now the darkness seemed to press in on him and smother him. Rain began tapping on the windows, slowly at first but steadily picking up speed and power. Gusts of wind driving raindrops against the glass sounded like someone throwing fistfuls of stone against the window. His fear grew in him and threatened to overwhelm him. He thought about what his father had said about Rattle Creek. But those inner-tube trips had been different. He had been going to Rattle Creek for so long that he couldn’t remember when it had been new to him. They always went in the daytime. This basement was very new to him and it was also very dark. However there was an even bigger difference. He had always gone down Rattle Creek with his friends, guys he had known as long as he had known the creek. As far as he could tell he was alone in the basement. At least he hoped he was.
Still backing away from the tarp-covered pile, Randy reached the stairs when he felt a strong wind against his back. Where was that coming from? Pocketing the flashlight, he turned and realized that the wind was coming through the strange double door at the end of the short passage that led to the back yard. He stared at it for a moment feeling more vulnerable than ever.
How long had that been open? Randy could just make out the square of blue-black that was the open doorway to the yard. He though he could faintly see the rain shooting through the opening and onto the incline. What if that bearded man had come through the door? He could be somewhere in the basement right now. He could be anywhere in the house. Randy started to feel as though he was being watched.
Don’t freak out, he told himself. The next thing to do is to close those doors. If the bearded man from the field hasn’t gone through them already then there was no reason to leave him an invitation. Just as soon as he was able to marshal the courage to lurch up the ramp and pull the doors closed, a flash of lightning more powerful than any Randy had ever seen saturated everything in his field of view. An instant later, full darkness returned and a deep heavy thunder rolled down from the sky.
Except the darkness wasn’t as complete as it was before the lightning. A vivid after-image, already starting to fade, hung in the air. It showed Randy everything that was in front of him. It was strange. When he turned his head, the image moved. When he closed his eyes, it was still there. He could make out everything that was in front of him when the lightning flashed as though it was day light. The old foundation made up of stones the size of televisions, a small collapsible table folded against the wall. Randy had seen after-images before when someone took a photograph, but the effect he was experiencing now was a lot more profound. He had gone from near complete blackness to bright light and back again in just an instant. But even that wasn’t the strangest part. With his eyes squeezed shut, amidst the rest of the electric tableau, Randy could see an arrow suspended in the air. Like the rest of the image, it was yellowish and losing its distinctiveness. The edges were softening and blurring like a watercolor painting. It looked like a stick arrow that someone might draw for a simple map. It was hanging in the air with its back end toward Randy and its pointed end indicating the passageway up to the back yard. In a day that had seemed increasingly spooky and strange, this seemed to fit right in.
As he thought about it, Randy realized that the arrow hadn’t been there when the lightning flashed, it only appeared with the after-image. Something was going on. Randy was beginning to believe that there was more happening than just his over-active imagination. But should he tell his parents about the man in the field and the arrow in the basement? Maybe he should wait until tomorrow. Maybe he was just still a little freaked out about the whole move. Things might seem a little better when there was electricity and furniture in the house.
Trying to ignore the fact that he was actually going in the direction that the arrow had indicated, Randy put a hand against the dirty wall of the passageway and shuffled up to the double doors. The rain pelted his face and started to soak his clothes as he groped for the handles of the open doors. He found both heavy wooden doors and after some struggling, pulled them together only to find that the right one had to be pulled into place first with the left one on top for both of them to properly latch. As he readjusted the doors, lightning flashed again. Randy latched the doors and took in the after image that presented itself.
He could make out the back yard, the large tree and the fence right behind it. The leaves of the tree were all pushed in the same direction by the strong wind. There was also another arrow. In fact, there were many arrows. Randy put his hand against the wall and guided himself back down the incline while rubbing his eyes with the thumb and forefinger of the other hand. He wanted the image to go away immediately. There was one arrow on this side of the fence and more on the other side. They followed a line all the way across the field and disappeared into the tree line beyond. There must have been at least twenty of them.
Randy made his way back to the stairs and then up to the kitchen in time to hear his father call, “Randy, it’s coming down pretty hard, You’d better get up there!” He remembered the window. He stood still for just a moment trying to decide what to do next and then went up the back stairs to the second floor. None of that could have been real. The best thing to do would be to go on with things as though nothing abnormal was going on. He groped his way up the stairs and then on to Paul’s room. As he turned into the room, he saw a bolt of lightning split the air outside the widow at the end of the hall. He jumped a little. Not high, but just enough to lose his footing on the wet floor and come crashing down on his side.
“Owwww!” he exclaimed feeling pain in his left elbow and hip where he had landed. The floor had a lot of water on it. Obviously Paul hadn’t covered the window. Randy stood up and pulled the garbage bag from his back pocket. He could feel the cold rain being driven in the window by the fierce wind. Paul was going to hear about this when he got back from the store.
Randy got down on his hands and knees, set the flashlight down and spread the garbage bag over the open window. He held it up over the window and fished the plastic box of thumbtacks out of his other back pocket with his free hand. The knees of his pants soaked through on the wet floor as he awkwardly tried to open the thumbtack box with one hand. Soon he had the top two corners of the bag pinned in place when he heard someone walk in the room behind him. Randy whirled and faced the tall figure.
“What are you doing? Just close the window and get back downstairs. We can mop up this mess tomorrow.” It was his father and he seemed confused and mildly angry with him.
“I’m going as fast as I can Dad, but the wind is making it hard. Besides, Paul’s really the one who should be doing this.” He added that last part with a bit of justified self-righteousness. But he immediately felt bad at invoking his brother’s name like that. Why was that?
His father let out an exasperated breath and leaned over him and slid the window shut. It was suddenly a lot quieter in the room as the wind was now banished to the outside. Randy blinked his eyes and inspected the window in the light of the flashlight that his father had brought up. Yes it was the right one; it was definitely the window that Paul had broken only a few hours before. There were only three windows in the room and Paul had broken the middle one.
“I don’t know what you’re doing with that garbage bag, all I asked you to do was make sure that all the windows were closed up here,” David said pulling Randy to his feet. “Now c’mon, your mother doesn’t want to be left alone while there’s no electricity.” As his father led him out of the room, Randy kept staring back at the pane of glass that shouldn’t have been there. But the next thing that David said stunned him enough to take his eyes off the window and look up at his father.
“And who is Paul?”