Chapter 16
After retrieving a pocket flashlight with fresh batteries from his toolbox in the garage, Jeff opened an old cigar box that contained some possessions from his deceased grandfather.
Edward William Holloway had been in Jeff’s childhood until age twelve. Edward was a good man to learn from. He had spent time with his grandson that his gambling-addict son didn’t. Edward listened to classical music and smoked cigars alongside Jeff in the backyard of Edward’s extravagant home. Through long talks, quips, and story-telling, the old man helped teach Jeff to believe in himself and stick up for what is right.
Edward would frequently say things like no one will look out for yourself but you; if you want love, you have to love yourself; be responsible for your choices; through helping others grow, you grow.
Once in a while, Edward would even give his grandson a puff off a stogie that he was smoking.
Jeff’s favorite story that his grandfather told was about an Indian girl who had a battle of two wolves inside her heart, one good and one bad. It frightened her that they fought, and she tried to make peace between them. Since the bad wolf was always antagonizing the good wolf, she thought that feeding it might help calm it. So she fed the bad wolf for a while, and it began to win the battle. Seeing this, she realized what was happening, so she stopped feeding it and started feeding the good wolf instead. It grew stronger and finally won.
These times with his grandfather were Jeff’s fondest childhood memories.
Besides the inheritance Jeff received when he became an adult, all that was left of Grandpa Edward was this cigar box and its contents.
Jeff carefully opened the lid and saw a single button from his grandpa’s Marine uniform, a belt buckle, an old pipe, and an amethyst crystal. Edward had always kept this crystal in his front pants pocket. He claimed it brought him luck. The man had lived eighty-nine years and had gotten very wealthy from mining for diamonds in South Africa, so Jeff couldn’t much fault the crystal.
He picked it up, stuck it in his front pants pocket, carefully closed the cigar box, and placed it back onto the shelf in the garage.
Then he drove to Laura’s place.
Fingering the crystal in his pocket, he stood in her driveway.
He needed her. She knew something about the dark, and she could help. She was probably one of the few people who believed in the odd nature of his quest. At the very least, she would keep watch over Ashley as he went for Tina.
Jeff still had an hour before dark.
He soaked in everything about her front yard—the smell of Jasmine in the air, the stillness of the neighborhood, the soft chirps from birds in the palm trees, the white base lamps casting a filigree of light and shadow up the trunks in the growing dusk, the gentle wind flapping the fronds together. His gratitude pulled him into the present to receive the gifts the world had to offer.
Ashley knew how to get Tina back. This was the source of his gratitude. It made all the other gifts possible.
He thought stumbling upon her just when he needed was strange. Was there such a thing as fate or a guiding hand in this universe? Was this force helping goodness overcome badness, such as lost girls? Did the force help simply through connecting good people together?
He knocked on Laura’s door, harder than anticipated.
Behind the thick wood came scratching and growling.
“Hello?”
Several crashes against the door caused him to step back.
He tried the knob, then the doorbell. “Laura, what’s going on?”
Another crash into the wood.
“You alright?” he yelled.
Several barks, then another crash.
“Graisse?” The sex-crazed dog whose name meant fat in French could not possibly be causing the commotion inside. Could he? He only weighed nine pounds, for God’s sake. Perhaps an intruder had gained access to the house. Just when things seemed to be going better in Jeff’s life, something bad had to happen.
“Laura!” He stepped to the side window to try looking in. The glass was fogged so this was difficult.
He thought of his shared hero with his grandfather, Ludwig Van Beethoven. Beethoven had come from poverty, like Grandpa, and became a success anyways. Beethoven thrived despite extreme adversity. He had devoted his life to perfecting his gift of creating masterpieces of music only to lose his ability to hear. And still that didn’t stop him. His passion and spirit impossibly continued, writing more symphonies, some notably his best works. This composer flabbergasted Jeff, but also provided him with inspiration through difficult times.
Graisse’s blurry face suddenly appeared in the window, dog-smiling, whining, tongue licking the glass. No intruder. Evidently the dog had anticipated Jeff’s arrival. Jeff was the cause of the commotion.
He moved back to the door. He didn’t bother knocking again. Surely Laura was already on her way, given the ruckus from her Bichon Frise.
“Ruff! Ruff!” Crash. Graisse’s name was fitting, in a way. He knew well how to use the little weight he possessed.
He heard the muffled voice of a woman.
The door cracked open an inch. Near the bottom, a pink tongue, a black snout, and one green eye looked through, with white curly hair scattered around the dog face. Graisse. Looking up, Jeff saw Laura’s brown eye, surrounded with thick, long eyelashes. She was wrestling with the safety chain. “Hi.”
“Hey.” He looked down at the dog.
Graisse licked his lips and whimpered as though in excruciating pain.
“Back up!” she ordered. “Back.”
The dog did no such thing. He worked his nostrils. His single green eye focused on Jeff through the crack.
She warned, “Now, Graisse.”
He whined, backed up a few inches, stopped, and continued to watch Jeff through the widening crack.
She opened the door and embraced Jeff. Her warm body radiated into his, despite the barriers of black stretch pants and white cotton blouse she wore. He and Laura fit together snugly, like two lost puzzle pieces.
“Sorry,” she apologized, as she separated from him. “I’m big on hugs. Some of my friends call me a hug-aholic. Sometimes I forget to restrain myself. I’m just—”
“Don’t apologize. It’s nice.” He smiled. Words escaped him for the moment. “Really. I wish I could be more openly warm like that.”
Behind her, he could see Graisse cautiously stepping forward, awaiting his idea of a hug.
“Back up, Graisse,” she ordered. “Sit.”
The Bichon Frise grumbled loudly and took several steps backwards, giving Jeff just enough space to enter the foyer and pass. But the dog didn’t sit.
Laura closed the door behind Jeff.
Her scent danced around him, making him dizzy and stupid. The curves of her legs in the black stretch pants held his eyes captive until she moved. His throat was dry and tight as he asked, “So, you ready?”
“Just let me get one thing.” She smiled at him, eyes sparkling, and began to walk to the hallway.
Graisse watched her pass, his attention—like Jeff’s—focused on her. When she closed her bedroom door, Graisse’s head flipped forward, both green eyes locking onto Jeff.
The dog now began slow, trembling steps toward Jeff, licking his lips, whimpering ecstatically.
“No, Graisse. Stay.”
Graisse paid no heed.
“I’m serious, dog. You heard what your master said. Sit.” Jeff backed into the railing which separated the foyer from the living room. It dug sharply into his lower back. “I said sit, Graisse. Sit.” He did not want to break anything else in this nice home. “Stay.” Laura deserved a nice, unbroken home. “Stay!” He wouldn’t make a good impression if every time he came over, he broke something.
The Bichon Frise sprang. A flurry of white, curly hair shot towards Jeff, and he barely dodged the animal, moving alongside the railing, towards the living room. Behind him, paws slid and scraped against the tile floor, the dog trying desperately to change directions, Jeff moving further to the couch to get it between the animal and himself. But Graisse leaped onto the couch cushion and launched over the back, straight into Jeff’s chest, paws first, sliding down, latching onto Jeff’s right calf.
Jeff tried to shake the creature off with no success. “Down, Graisse! Down.”
Laura came out of the bedroom. “Okay. I’m ready.”
She evidently couldn’t see that behind the couch, Graisse began to convulse against Jeff’s leg. He shook it to no avail and simply began to walk towards her with the dog stuck on. “Okay. Let’s go.”
She laughed when she saw him. “Well, look who’s having fun here. Come on.” She bent over, pried the Bichon Frise off, and held him with sweet tenderness in her arms. “He just really likes you, Jeff.”
Graisse licked her cheek once and stared at Jeff, unblinking.
“Yes,” he answered sarcastically. “I’m sure that’s it.”
She set the dog outside on the back patio. Jeff was the first one out the front door. He could hear Graisse yowling through the low wooden fence on the side of the house. Jeff swore the dog would have jumped it if Laura wasn’t watching.
They got into his car, heading to the dark for Tina.
***
Ashley’s room had grown chilly with the deepening night. Menace drifted through the air, incongruous with the beautiful fourteen-year-old sitting on the sunny yellow comforter.
She had on the same orange sweatshirt as before, but now wore white sweatpants and hot pink socks, bright colors in such a dreary room. Jeff wondered if she purposely chose these because they repudiated the dark—that which she feared.
Her mother had seemed pleased with this visit, even at this late hour. She was more than willing to accommodate them so that her daughter could be “fixed,” as she described it. She hadn’t even asked who Laura was. Although, if he told Marie the true reason for their visit, she would probably exhibit more caution. But she had no cause for alarm because he wouldn’t place Ashley in danger. The girl would stay in the light with Laura.
“Are you guys ready?” Ashley asked.
He shrugged, not sure what that entailed. “I think so. Tell us more about this.”
The girl took out a brown candle from the top drawer in her nightstand. “Candles bring it out faster. I think it likes the way the shadows move.”
He nodded.
She added blankly, “I’m not sure.”
“Do we have to do anything?”
“I’ll light the candle and you turn off the lights.”
“I don’t want anything to happen to you. With your permission, Laura is going to hold onto you, and I’ll go into the shadows. Both of you will stay safely here by the flame.” His mind pondered. “Can we burn two just to be safe?”
“It’s better with only one.” She sat cross-legged on the floor in the center of the room and set the candle in front of her. She lit it with a match and blew the match out. A sulfurous smoky smell stung his nostrils. She added, “But I don’t know if you’ll see the creature.”
“Doesn’t matter. You direct me and I’ll go.”
She nodded.
Pixie blurred from underneath the bed to Ashley’s lap. He licked her hands as she pet him. She had such a good way with cats.
Laura sat behind the girl, holding her in a hug around the stomach.
“If I disappear,” he cautioned, “don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”
Laura nodded.
Ashley frowned, not appearing to like this possibility.
“I don’t know where this will lead, but if it’s an opening to another dimension, I’ll get Tina. I’ll bring her back.” He handed Ashley his pocket flashlight, flicking it on to make sure it still worked. It was bright with the fresh batteries. “If anything happens to the candle, or the shadow creature gets too close to you, shine this at it.”
She nodded and switched off the flashlight. She placed it between her legs underneath Pixie.
Jeff turned out four of the five lights which lit the room, starting with the one in the bathroom, then the one in the corner by the window, the one on the nightstand, and ending with the nightlight in the wall.
She spoke seriously, “I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“Don’t worry. I can take care of myself.” But he wondered about this as he turned off the last light, the ceiling light with the switch beside the door.
The flame instantly became the focus. It wavered and snapped as it yellowed Ashley’s and Laura’s faces. Shadows crawled along each wall. Vanilla-mocha scents from the candle wafted through the air.
He sat facing Ashley. He waited a minute. “What’s supposed to happen?”
“It’ll come from the shadows.”
“Is there something I should do?”
Behind Ashley, Laura said, “Know your vulnerabilities. Be open. Be ready for the unknown.”
He thought about that. How was he supposed to be ready for the unknown? He did know some of his vulnerabilities. He had been in therapy himself in the past. He had been required to do so by his graduate school, but also he believed in it.
Besides the most obvious vulnerability of losing his daughter four years ago, he had grown up with a gambling-addict father. His father was mostly absent during his life. Dad’s main game had been backgammon, the oldest game in recorded history. Monies that could have gone to family trips, Jeff’s college, Jeff’s mother’s diabetes expenses, and food were lost at games in smoked filled rooms at different houses. Grandpa refused to help out his son financially, knowing he would only be enabling his son's addictive habit. But Grandpa could not stop himself from helping out with Mother's medical expenses and life necessities for Jeff.
Another vulnerability for Jeff was his mother. She had been intrusive, always telling him what he couldn’t do, never allowing him to grow independent of her. Perhaps she missed her husband and felt out of control from both his addiction and from her disease. Jeff had to rebel to free himself from her as a teenager, and he failed often at independence because she hadn’t prepared him to do things on his own.
One of his vulnerabilities was being abandoned, and another was being controlled. He was sensitive to these to this very day, despite years of therapy and self-growth. He didn’t think he would ever become desensitized to them. Controlling someone who has done no injustice was wrong, and he knew this on a deep level. Abandoning loved ones was also wrong. He didn’t believe becoming desensitized to these was even a good idea.
Being sensitive to wrongs was a good thing. It motivated him to combat them.
These scars from his past, though, weakened the fabric of his heart. They made it easy to feel vulnerable. Wounds that once had been healed were easily reopened when prodded in the present. Jeff believed this was just the way of life.
The scars tempted him to gain excessive power to squelch the sense of vulnerability—power that wasn’t necessarily healing, such as prestige, adoration, and more excesses of money than he already had. He resisted all fairly well, except for excesses of money.
Growing up poor his whole childhood, financial growth was difficult for him to resist. When it came to loved ones, however, providing excessive gifts was even harder to resist. He had showered his daughter not only with love but with any material things she desired. But the strange thing was that she never desired much. She was happy with just a few simple dolls, some board games, and being with him.
Shadows danced around as a draft played with the flame. Or was it a draft? No, it couldn’t be. The window was closed.
He fingered his amethyst crystal in his pants pocket again, hoping for luck.
Just what would he find? Would he see anything, even with Ashley as a guide? Could he ride or follow the creature to Tina?
He remembered the bum’s words at the shopping center, your time here is up … you will die! These words haunted him now. The image of the hulking bum’s intelligent, dark eyes stuck with Jeff.
What did that man know? Did he know another secret about the dark?