by Jay Mason
“But it’s true that some of the things you do up there are dangerous, isn’t it?” persisted Rusty. “There are accidents, aren’t there? People get hurt.”
“You mean like your mother,” said Dr. Straker gently. “What happened to her was most unfortunate, but even she admits that she didn’t follow the proper safety procedures.” He paused a moment. “I presume she told you that?”
“No,” said Rusty. Then he shook his head. “I can’t believe it. Mum is such a careful person.”
“The best of us can make mistakes,” said Dr. Straker. “She may have had her mind on other things.”
“You mean my dad’s disappearance,” said Rusty.
“I wouldn’t like to speculate,” said Dr. Straker. “Irene, that quiche was excellent. Dare I hope there is more to follow?”
“Of course,” said Irene and stood up to start clearing the plates. “Give me a hand, Alex,” she said.
“My dad was working for you when he disappeared,” said Rusty.
“Rusty, I don’t think now is the right time to discuss your family’s issues,” said Dr. Straker. “We are being rude to our hosts.” He said it softly, but there was a note of implacability in his voice.
Alex followed her mother quickly into the kitchen.
“What the hell is that boy trying to do?” asked Irene as soon as the door closed behind them. “You have no idea how out of his way Dr. Straker has gone to help this family and your guest is … is ….”
“I had no idea who was coming to dinner,” said Alex. “If I’d known I’d have invited someone else.”
“Well, keep him in order. Now take these potatoes.” She handed Alex a dish of almost day-glo orange roast potatoes.
“So anyway the youth says I was checking for squirrels!” Lewis roared with laughter. Rusty was bright red in the face and staring at the table. Dr. Straker had a small fixed smile on his face.
“A full British roast dinner,” said Irene, setting a large chunk of beef down in front of Lewis. “But I’ve marinated the beef in a BBQ sauce as a tribute to our new home!”
“Got a chisel, old girl?” said Lewis picking up the carving knife.
“So how are you finding the local college, Alex?” asked Dr. Straker before Irene could reply.
“It’s fine,” says Alex.
“Are you hoping to go on somewhere else afterwards?”
“I don’t know,” said Alex.
“Only if she does a lot better in her exams,” said Irene. “You’re a genetics expert, Dr. Straker, can you tell me how two brilliant scientists like Lewis and I could produce …”
“Perhaps Alex hasn’t yet found what she is good at,” interrupted Dr. Straker.
“That’s what I said,” said Lewis.
“You mean like something in the arts,” said Irene, filling her and Dr. Straker’s glasses once more. “What is the point of that? We only have one life. We need to live it meaningfully. We need to contribute.”
“If we chase nothing but science,” said Dr. Straker, “I believe we would lose much of what makes humanity what it is.”
“Angry, aggressive, territorial apes, who only think of themselves?” said Irene.
“I agree Irene that mankind has a long journey to make, but we have already made great strides.”
“Like?” said Irene.
“Well, let me see,” said Dr. Straker. “Did you know that there used to be an insane asylum on the site where Alex’s college now stands? They used to offer tours so people could see the madmen and women inside. The inmates were treated worse than animals. They lived in appalling conditions.”
“We can hardly disagree that medicine has come a long way in the mental health sciences, can we, Irene?” Lewis said to his wife. “We know how much it has helped us.”
“You were going to be a doctor, weren’t you Rusty?” asked Dr. Straker.
“That was the idea,” admitted Rusty.
“What happened?” asked Lewis.
“I lost my scholarship,” said Rusty in a quiet voice.
“You know, I’d be happy to coach you if you ever wanted to try again,” said Lewis. “Be great to have a medical doctor in the family!”
Alex cringed.
“I will get there,” said Rusty firmly. “But not right now.”
“You could come and work with us,” said Dr. Straker. “It’s a family tradition, after all. I’m sure I could find something that would fit in with your school hours. That way you could start building a university fund and learn some interesting stuff too. I’m sure it would help on any applications you made. Especially, if I added a reference myself.”
“That’s very kind,” said Rusty, but Alex could see a muscle twitching in his jaw, betraying his anger.
“You are so generous,” said Irene to Dr. Straker. “And always so well dressed.” As she said this Lewis managed to drop a lump of barbecued beef down his shirt front. The viscous gravy made it cling for a moment before it slithered slug-like down into his lamp. Irene sighed heavily. Alex stifled a grin. She peeked at her dad, who winked at her. He leaned over and whispered to her. “I’d rather have it in my lap than in my stomach.”
“What was that Lewis?” asked Irene.
“He was just saying,” said Alex, “what a lovely meal this is.”
“Oh really, I’m sure I have some more potatoes in the kitchen,” said Irene and hurried off to find them.
“God, I wish we had a dog,” said Lewis once she had gone.
“Animal cruelty,” said Alex.
“It does have an unusual flavour,” said Rusty, “but it’s not too bad.”
“I don’t think you get fed properly,” said Alex.
“I have to eat my own cooking,” said Rusty grinning at her.
“Guys,” said Lewis. “Why don’t you two take the opportunity to escape? Pudding is bound to be the climax to the meal and you know what that means.”
“Oh no,” said Alex. “Not Mum’s trifle!”
Her dad nodded sombrely. “Sorry about that, Dr. Straker. Nothing I can do to save you.”
“No matter,” said Dr. Straker. “I have things to discuss with you both that I think will suitably distract Irene from her culinary creations.”
Alex got up. “Come on, Rusty. Dr. Straker.” She nodded at him.
“It was very nice to speak with you both again,” said Dr. Straker. “I’m sure I’ll see you again very soon.”
“Not if I see you first,” said Rusty as soon as they were out of the room. “That man gives me the creeps.” Alex led him up to her bedroom and locked the door.
“I am so sorry,” she said. “I had no idea who they were inviting. He’s never been for dinner before.” She took the chair. Rusty sat on the edge of the bed.
“You’re lucky. He comes round to my house at least once every month.”
“I’m sorry about what he said about your mum.”
Rusty shrugged. “I imagine all businesses do the same thing. Insist if you want your pension you admit fault. Even if you did nothing wrong.”
“You think he did that?” gasped Alex.
“Can’t you imagine him saying in that slithery voice of his ‘now are you sure you did’ over and over again until you didn’t know which way was up?”
“Slithery?”
“Soft, gentle, seeming so friendly, but being poisonous all the time.”
“Yeah, let’s talk about something else. Did you actually eat any of that beef?”
“A bit,” Rusty rubbed his chest. “I can still feel it. I think it might be trying to get out. You know, like in that movie.” He stuck his hand up his shirt and pushed at the front so it bulged.
“That’s nothing. I’m going to sick up a face hugging monster,” said Alex. She formed her hand into a claw and leapt at him. Rusty caught her hand and pulled it aside. “Not before my chest monster gets you!” he cried. Alex overbalanced and fell onto the bed on top of him. They writhed around each attacking the other with their hand monst
ers and laughing. Finally Rusty trapped Alex with her arm underneath her. He hovered over her. “I win,” he said.
Alex grinned up at him. “Just when you aren’t expecting my squidoid will get you. You’ll be in the shower and it will creep up the wall behind you and …”
She stopped because Rusty had lowered his lips to hers. His touch was gentle, hesitant. Alex freed her hand. She put it on the back of his head, pushing her fingers through his hair and pulling him down to her. Their lips parted and they kissed slowly then with increasing passion. Alex closed her eyes, surrendering to the moment, pushing aside all other considerations. Warmth filled her. Her body felt lighter. She felt happy. Happy for the first time in- Rusty pulled away.
“Oh, God,” he said. “Oh god, I’m so sorry.” Rusty leapt up. “I have to go,” he said and unlocking Alex’s door, he bolted from the house.
Lying in her hospital bed, Bethany moaned. Her eyes remained shut, but she twisted to one side. Her mother, sitting beside her, pressed the call button for the nurse, who came running. “She’s moving,” said her mother, tears brimming in her eyes. “She’s coming back to us.”
The nurse pulled back the covers slightly and started to check Bethany’s vital signs. As she did so, her mother saw a mark bloom on her daughter’s arm. “What is that?” she asked.
The nurse turned to see. “It looks like a burn,” she said confused. “I don’t remember burns being listed on her chart.”
As the two of them watched, Bethany cried out and another mark appeared on her arm. Then another and another. Bethany’s mother began to scream. The nurse pressed the emergency button. Doctors and nurses came running.
6. The Lantern Carrier
>He said there used to be an asylum on the site?
>Straker said that?
Alex could almost imagine the shock in c0nundrum’s voice. The cursor before her moved again.
>Does Straker often come to your house for dinner?
>No. I’d never met him before, but it felt like I knew him.
>That’s never good (typed c0nundrum).
>Way to go to make me feel about myself.
>Look, nice as it is to actually chat with you, I have to go.
>But I need you to explain what you meant in the email!
>Strange energy. Coming from your college. Maybe something to do with what your cheerleader friends were up to.
>They’re not my friends.
>See if they found anything from the old asylum
>Like what?
>A skull. A trepanning tool. A bed knob. I don’t know. Use your imagination. Someone is coming. I have to go.
>C0nundrum? C0nundrum?
Nothing.
>What’s happened? Your mother show up?
Alex logged off. She had been surprised and intrigued when c0nundrum had showed up on her website chat room. She thought he had been far too security conscious to use it. She had been in the process of checking her emails when the invite to connect had come up on her screen. At first she had thought it must be Rusty’s idea of a joke, but when it turned out to really be c0nundrum. Because she hadn’t responded to his email that strange energy was being emitted from the college, he had decided he had to chat with her. Almost, thought Alex, as if he had been panicking. However, she had taken the opportunity to fill him in on everything that had been happening with the cheerleaders. Not that he had been especially helpful. His prime and only concern seemed to be that she had received his email. What exactly she was meant to do about it other than go grubbing around in the tunnels again was unclear. C0nundrum had also presumed during their chat that Rusty would be coming with her. She hadn’t put him right. Although she did not fancy going down there alone, she found that facing a boy she had kissed while his girlfriend was still in hospital seemed worse than potentially facing the hostile entity again.
Alex picked up the nearest thing to hand, a book on UFOs, and threw it across the room. It hit with the wall with a satisfying thumb and bounced onto the bed. “Hormones,” she yelled at it. “Bloody hormones. I’m meant to be past all that. I’m nineteen not thirteen. Next thing I’ll be breaking out in spots again.” Alex went over to the mirror to check. Her pale face, surrounded by a cloud of dark hair, gazed back angrily at her.
“What was that noise?” called her mother.
“Me throwing stuff against the wall,” yelled Alex.
“Problems darling?” called her father.
“Argh!” growled Alex. She threw herself onto the bed. Accidentally winding herself as the book hit in the stomach and stuck her head under the pillow. She ignored the rattling of the bedroom door knob. Vaguely she could hear one of her parents (the pillow was doing a semi-decent job) talking at the door. “Go away,” she cried, and hugged the pillow tighter against her ears.
That night Alex crept out of her window again. She took her flashlight and her new dictaphone. She didn’t have any more of the discs because she hadn’t left her room for the rest of the day and so couldn’t get to her mother’s home lab.
Her parents slept. Only the animal and insect life stirred outside the house. Alex climbed down the tree and slunk into the shadows. The dark didn’t frighten her. When her mother once caught her going on late night walks, a habit she presumed she had broken Alex from, Alex had told that she (Alex) was the scariest thing out there in the dark. That hadn’t gone down well. A fortnight of lumpy porridge for dinner had made her admit that there might be very bad people out there in the dark and she shouldn’t go out alone.
Now older, with several self-defense classes behind, Alex had no fear of the night and regarded shadows as merely opportunities for her to hide, rather than for imagined monsters to hide within.
And that was fine. It was when you knew you were going off down into some very dark tunnels were there actually was a monster that she felt a little uneasy. Alex had never met anything that had harmed her. She had been frightened more than once in her career, but never hurt by anything preternatural. She knew she had no special protection from rocks falling on her head, but when it came to the weird and obscure she seemed charmed.
Or this is what she was currently telling herself as she made her away towards the college. She had chosen to avoid the town, sticking to smaller lanes that skirted the fields as far as she could. In the town at night she could not help imagining all the people weaving their dreamworlds. All those busy brains working away to create fantastical adventures. Sometimes those inner stories seemed so loud she could almost see them. Away from the houses she felt calmer and more at peace. An owl hooted from its perch on a branch. A fox stopped mid jaunty walk to inspect her. It sniffed the air and then moved on, having decided she was of no interest. A breath of wind brushed by her as the owl swept silently past, swooping down into a field and onto some tiny unsuspecting prey. Alex caught her breath. The owl was magnificent — a perfect hunting machine combined with exquisite grace. Why couldn’t people be more like owls? Beautiful, direct, and purposeful.
Armed with her full set of keys, Alex let herself into the building with ease. She went past the notice board and using her flashlight checked the latest cheerleading events. As she had thought the remaining cheerleaders would be out of town this weekend with their troupe. She knew they always had a couple of subs ready. Cheerleading was a deceptively dangerous sport. The girls were always dropping each other on their heads or twisting and, or breaking something in their efforts to be the highest, the bendiest, the most admired.
Alex made her way into the tunnels without interruption. She spoke into her dictaphone, “Security as ever have not made their presence known. In other circumstances I would make the dean aware of their lack of professionalism. Presumably part of my school fees go to cover their wages. I have broken into the college on occasions that must now number into three figures and I have yet to encounter anyone. The few times I have seen a light in the distance it has been ridiculously easy to avoid the watchman. I would suggest to the college it makes savings by at
taching flashlights to floor waxers or hoovers and leaves these running over night. Doubtless any domestic appliance could do a better job than the current watchman.” She clicked the machine off. Paused and then clicked it on again. “Should this machine be found on my lifeless body, I would like the patent for the animated watchman to go to my mother Irene Morgan.” She clicked it off again. “Graveyard humor,” she muttered to herself.
The room remained exactly as Rusty, Bethany and she had left it. Despite what had happened to their friend, it seemed the other cheerleaders hadn’t bothered to come down and check. “Amateurs,” said Alex aloud. Then she began searching the room. It didn’t take long. In the end it came down to two possible objects, if c0nundrum was right and it was linked to a thing. Alex remained unconvinced. But she clicked the dictaphone on once more.
“I have searched the room where the cheerleaders held their experiments and where Bethany was subsequently taken ill. Following the suggestion of a colleague I have checked the room for older objects that may have been used during the time this place was an asylum. The only two I can conceive of being possible are the lantern and the table. I have accordingly placed the lantern on the table. Nothing has happened.” She clicked the machine off. “Ridiculous,” she said to herself. “Bloody stupid idea.” She sat down to wait.
As time went on all that developed was cramp in Alex’s legs. Eventually, Alex stood up. She could only think of one thing left to do and she didn’t want to do it. She certainly was not going to record herself doing it.
Alex went over to the table and put one hand on the lamp and one hand on the table-top. She took a deep breath and began, “Hear me, those of you who have gone before. Hear me, oh you shades of the dear departed. Know we come in peace and friendship. Know we are here to help you. We are your willing servants. Come here together this night to convey your messages to the waking world.” She felt a buildup of bile in her throat by the end of the message, but she did not ascribe this to any preternatural entity, rather the saccharine sweetness of the worlds. “Friendly cards to the other side,” she muttered. “Praising poltergeists and other nocturnal nymphs. Ridiculous.” She stood back from the table, removing her hands from the objects. “No one can say I didn’t try,” she said.
