H E HAD ALREADY fixed a broken heater, a shorted-
out ceiling fan, and laid down a hundred square feet of
tile before looking out a vacant apartment window to
see that it was already dusk. Levi grabbed his tool belt
and utility bag, the one with the lamp in it, and headed
back toward the lobby. He passed by Russell on the
way, who settled for a silent nod of the head as if to
say, “Good evening.”
Russell had not said more than a few words to Levi
since the electrocution incident during which he was
saved by the power of the lamp. Levi thought he might
not even know where to begin a discussion about what
happened that day; silence seemed easier. He also
suspected a bit of denial on Russell’s part, but who
could blame him?
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Levi decided to stop by Jenny’s apartment to check
on Violet but no one came to the door when he
knocked. Wishing that he’d taken Charles’s advice and
gotten himself a cell phone, he knocked a few more
times with greater force.
“Surely they’re not still at the hospital,” he assumed.
He went back to the lobby, where Russell was
locking up the storage closet. Levi gritted his teeth and
approached him.
“Hey, Russell.”
His voice startled the man. Russell looked
uncomfortable around him. “Hey, Levi,” he answered
back in a cracked voice.
“I need a favor. A big one. Do you have a spare phone
lying around? I thought I saw some on a shelf… behind
the cleaning supplies.”
“Oh, um — those aren’t really active. Just junk that
people leave when they move out. Why do you ask?”
Levi felt embarrassed.
“Nothing, it’s just… I have a friend who may need to
call me, if there’s an emergency or something. The
thing is, I can’t really afford a phone just yet so I was
hoping we might have a spare lying around. But if
not…”
Russell’s gaze dropped to the utility bag hanging
from Levi’s shoulder. He peered at the lamp inside and
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immediately grabbed his cell phone and held it up for
him. “Take mine. I mean, temporarily. Go ahead and
use it for now until you can get your own.”
“Won’t you need it?” Levi asked.
“Not really,” Russell replied. “There’s a work phone
on my desk and no one calls but my wife. I hardly ever
use that thing.”
“Are you sure?”
“Take it. Go ahead. I’ll write my number down for
you.”
Which he did. Levi then scribbled a note and left it
on Jenny’s door:
Call me on the number listed below. Want to see how
Violet is doing.
• • •
Violet stared at her hands while seated in the booth.
Her appetite was still missing. Jenny urged her to eat
some of the vegetable soup in front of her but there
was no interest.
“I just feel so tired,” the girl complained.
“I know you do.”
Jenny was worried for her. Her attempt to cheer the
girl up with a walk around the park and a nice café
dinner had failed. She definitely held motherly
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instincts for Violet but was also afraid that her lack of
any real experience with teenage girls would
undermine her efforts. Jenny was already in her mid-
thirties and had forgotten how younger people think.
“Are you going to be in trouble?” Violet asked
somberly.
“No. I’ll just use sick leave. I have a ton.”
“I don’t want you to do that,” Violet said quickly. “I’m
already imposing my crap on you by staying at your
place. I don’t want to keep burdening people.”
“Violet, slow down. It’s okay. I enjoy having you stay
with me.”
“Well, it won’t be forever,” she said. “You can be sure
of that. I’m going to make my way in the world.”
“I know you will,” Jenny assured. “But let’s start by
finishing your soup.”
Then she saw Violet unconsciously stashing a fork
and knife into her coat pocket. Jenny pointed
underneath the booth with an easy grin. “Violet, honey,
let’s not do that.”
“Oh — sorry. Force of habit.”
• • •
Levi enjoyed another evening of Hemingway and
boiled Chinese noodles. He banged out fifty or so push-
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ups before showering and calling it a night. In bed, his
thoughts swam around like a restless goldfish. He
craved a life free of complications. Levi was attracted to
the idea of family, of stability — something he almost
had once, something that slipped out of his grasp with
a single punch in a downtown bar.
It had been a while since K.S. had given him
anything to do. Not that Levi enjoyed being sent on
strange adventures in the middle of the night, but in a
way he did miss the power he’d briefly encountered.
Each day that passed since seeing the lamp’s light only
seemed to weaken his resolve. He knew something
supernatural was going on but barely had the energy
or mental faculties to try to comprehend it.
“Why
frustrate
yourself
with
unanswerable
questions?” he thought.
Levi then heard a light tapping sound coming from
the porch. He rose from the bed and cautiously
approached the window. It sounded like rain tapping
against the wooden door, but Levi hadn’t noticed any
foul-looking weather on the way home from work. With
a quick glance at the lamp, he turned and opened the
door.
Nothing.
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No rain, no cars, no people. Just an empty, quiet
street. And then the street light began to flicker ever so
slightly. He slammed the door shut and bolted it.
Backing away from the door, the noise came again.
The tapping. Levi went to the window this time, pulling
the edge of the curtain aside just enough to give him a
view of the porch and street. He saw nothing, except
for the flicker of the street light. None of the other lamp
posts were doing it, which made him suspicious.
He let the curtain fall back into place once more and
only a few moments later, the faint tapping resumed.
Levi decided not to take the bait and settled himself in
the kitchen area. His voice cracked ever so slightly as
he voiced a quiet but desperate plea. “K.S… you
there?”
It wasn’t a loud cry for help, but a gentle whisper to
someone who may or may not have the ability to
secure the apartment.
Then — a loud thud!
It was coming from the other side of the door. He
heard what sounded like a strong breeze against the
window sill. It died out just as suddenly as it had
come. Levi worked up the courage — or was given the
courage — to pull the door open. He immediately
smelled burning wood, but saw no activity. Just the
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note, written on cardboard with red ink and nailed to
his doorpost with a large silver spike.
Give me the lamp. End this or I will end you. And
them. Dev
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