“Get out of here!” He screamed rushing Jonathon out the screen door, the terrible ring blaring as he shouted, “You can’t let him come here I must call the police!” Heslammed the door. The dead bolt clicked and he begged for Jonathon’s forgiveness even as he told him to run, run far away.
Jonathon ran into the woods, he had to answer the phone, but couldn’t do it. He had to get further, and it just kept ringing. Yelling at him. Demanding him to pick up. Taunting.
Jonathon finally stopped and collected his breath. Cleared his throat and answered.
“I’m on my way home now, Honey. No, I haven’t been causing any trouble at all, just needed to stop in for a bite to eat... well, I didn’t know you had dinner cooking. Well just bag it up, like I said I ate already.”
Jonathon wiped the fake blood off his face and yearned for the change of clothes waiting for him in his car parked just a ways more through the woods. For the first time since Jonathon was married his stomach felt full, he felt satiated. He’d had a good meal.
THE END
Mold by George Strasburg
Shepard woke in a strange place. All around him was the slow commotion of people who didn't have anywhere to go or anyone to be. There were orbs of orange emanating from rusted out barrels. Shopping carts wheeled by with the clatter of cans and the urge to tip over with the piles of bags strapped on top.
Above appeared to be a bridge but it sounded silent and there were concrete walls that seemed to box them in on the sides. For as far as he could see were the orange orbs of fire. There was an echo that provided Shepard with no hope of a clear exit from this place.
He noticed he hadn't been noticed yet. No one that wandered aimlessly made eye contact and no one at the warmth of the fires turned to see who was watching them.
In his mind he imagined them tearing him apart and feasting on his entrails. Perhaps it was wrong and judgmental, but he had come from a wealthier and healthier place. How he ended up here he couldn't quite figure out yet, but he knew being here meant he was in some kind of trouble.
"You got soap?" a haggard voice chirped. To his right a dirty man, or was it what used to be a woman, leaned in towards Shepard from their perch upon a cart.
"I won't tell if you share."
Shepard shook his head.
"You're too clean not to have soap. You going to lie to me?" then suddenly the person before Shepard had an idea and it showed as the slow moving individual thrust his finger high into the air. "You're new here."
Shepard nodded.
"You better get yourself some dirt on that face, or others are going to kill you for your soap stash." the person whispered.
Shepard still couldn't determine the person's sex.
"I'm Odius."
"Shepard."
He hesitated when Odius extended his hand. But Shepard thought having a friend in the place was a better start than an enemy. He shook the grimy hand. It was calloused and weak. The arm attached to it felt as if it would break off if they continued shaking.
"Are you hungry yet, Shepard?"
Shepard was, he probably hadn't had anything to eat since dinner the night before. He could still remember dinner.
"It'll be a while before it goes away. There isn't any food down here." Odius examined the shock on Shepard's face. "You won't see any cats or dogs running around either, at least not any of the slow ones."
Shepard wondered just what was sustaining these people. Odius laughed.
"We eat the mold here. It makes you feel funny but nobody has died from it yet. Dirty up your face quick." Odius ordered as a squeaky cart started to roll towards them.
Shepard rubbed the bags and concrete around him and wiped his face.
"Good enough. You still look like a new guy though." Odius turned and watched as the cart pusher came closed and closer. Odius searched the pusher's face as if he were trying to read a blurry nametag. "Go away, Andrew."
"You got mold to spare? He got some?" Andrew asked looking over Sheppard.
"He doesn't have any now scram."
The cart started squeaking again, this time it headed away from Odius and Shepard. Shepard expected curses to trail the pusher, but Andrew was silent, except for his whining cart.
"Mold?" Shepard asked.
"Want some?" Odius asked. Shepard was certain he was a man now, it was just the way Odius' eyes looked, how they blinked. Women had always done that small act differently.
"I'll be fine for now."
"For now." Odius repeated. "You need more dirt. Wear more things; look like you've been here. I'm good with names and faces. I can tell, others not so much, especially if they've had something to eat." Odius shrugged. "Maybe I'm a liar, I brag too much, don't get the chance to prove I can do anything around here."
Shepard didn't bother to say anything other wise, he'd just met the man.
"Has anyone ever left this place?"
"People disappear." Odius admitted on queue.
"We're they trying to?"
"Don't know, we're not really friends with each other. After a few days you and me, well I'll probably be no one to you, just another guy eating up your mold."
Shepard didn't doubt it, he wanted to get out before that happened.
"How do people end up here?" Shepard asked. He was ready to start demanding answers but he remained calm. But as he spoke he did notice a twinge of hunger.
Odius stared off into the distance for a moment the said, "I can't remember."
"I need to find a way back to my life. I know this has something to do with something but I can't do anything about it if I'm stuck down here. How long is this bridge we're under?"
"Bridge?" Odius shook his head, "This is the once Great Hall. Stripped of it's gold and velvet, left barren by the pillagers."
Shepard realized Odius was insane.
"Well I got down here, how did they get me down here?" Shepard spoke through his teeth. His face started to sweat and he could feel the beads weaving around the grime.
"This is the place for people who have fallen. If we take it literally, you fell."
Shepard stood up for the first time and it felt like it. His body ached. Maybe he had fallen. But from that high? He stared up at the concrete roof he had assumed and still assumed was a bridge. He wouldn't have been able to stand if he had fallen. Sixty feet was Shepard's best guess.
"Look at that! You had a stash behind you and I know you didn't know otherwise you would've kept on sitting there ‘til I left you alone." Odius beamed.
Shepard turned to see a dark green patch of mold where he had been laying.
"I'll split it with you. Deal. I won't tell anyone. You won't tell anyone." Odius greedily massaged his hands and lips. "Cover it!" He shouted in a whisper. Shepard did as commanded grabbing some loose trash and hiding the patch of mold.
"The people you say disappear, do they eat a lot of this mold?"
"Certainly they eat what they can get their hands on, never seen as much as what you were sitting on."
"You're certain the mold doesn't kill them?"
Odius looked back at Shepard.
"I know it sounds crazy but we don't have nothing else to eat down here. It's really not that bad, you kind of grow to like it. Like expensive cheese or something. I bet if you ever did get back to where you came you'd have a hankering for this stuff."
"Right." Sheppard agreed to make things go easier. "Well it is my mold after all. I offer a different deal."
"Huh?"
"You can have all this mold if you can find a way for me to leave this place."
"That's not such a good deal on your end, you're going to want to eat that mold. And it don't grow on trees, at least not down here."
"Deal?"
Odius shook his head, "I'd like to rob you blind, sure, but I think you might be a friend."
"Help me get out of here. And the mold is yours to disperse however you want."
"So I can share if with you if you need it?"
Shepar
d nodded.
"Deal."
Shepard shook the frail hand once more. Before he could break the grasp, Odius clenched down hard.
"If I can't find you a way to leave we split it fifty-fifty."
"No. If I don’t get out of here the mold is all mine." Shepard clenched back harder, showing his strength.
Odius yanked his hand away and nodded.
"You get dirtier, carry more things on your back, blend in. Be where I can find you. You stand guard of my mold." With that Odius went away and the fear returned to Shepard. He was really alone with no way out. Should he even bother protecting the mold or should he start running from one end to the other looking for a way out?
Something smelled like it was burning. Upon further investigation Shepard found the smell to be coming from the mold. It was not on fire, but merely the strong odor that seemed to kick up every few moments as if a breeze were stirring it up. It wasn't just dark green but in places the mold was pitch black. Shepard didn't know anything about mold other than don't eat it unless it is being sold as cheese. It was so black it was actually shiny, like obsidian. His hands were already dirty so he had no qualms about touching the mold. It was moist and sticky. It clung to his fingers like tar. He wondered how anyone could swallow this mold, if it even was mold.
This time he felt the breeze. It did not run parallel to the ground—it came from the mold. It smelled less like an unpleasant burning and more like a barbeque. No wonder the idiots eat this stuff, he thought.
But there was something else. He could hear sounds coming from the mold. Was the mold this hallucinogenic? He could hear voices. They all sounded familiar but he couldn't pick just one out, but he knew he could hear co-workers and his girlfriend.
"Hey!” he yelled. "It's me!" Their conversations continued. He couldn't hear them and perhaps it was the mold. That was it, Shepard thought, I'm as high as a kite right now.
"And I have the munchies." He said aloud after his stomach grumbled. No, he wouldn't eat the mold, he wasn't that hungry yet.
Yet he still laid down next to the mold and listened to their voices. A breeze carried through the mold and it was his girlfriends perfume, a mix of vanilla and honeysuckle. No wonder those idiots eat this, he thought again.
Time drifted by as he listened and sometimes talked back into the mold, hoping someone could hear him. Then he heard a sound that sounded more real. It came from behind it.
A cart jerked to a stop.
The person pushing it appeared to be large and extremely tall but as they stepped closer their head to was to be revealed midway down their form. They had stacked themselves with so many blankets and bags. His or her voice was a terrible growl.
"Gimme yer mald."
"Don't have any." He said proudly remembering his deal with Odius a split second before he told the dirty man to take it. But there was another reason denied the person his mold. It was his mold and Sheppard wasn't going to let anyone else listen in to the voices of his family and friends.
"Dun la ta may." There was a tiny bony fist raised and shook until the person coughed and the rage on their face melted to being tired. "Cam ova fight may."
Shepard laughed as he stood. He would simply push the person over.
Shepard lunged.
Two bony legs were flung into the air squirming like a beetle's. Then quickly the person retracted their arms and legs, like an upside down turtle.
"Yam yam yam yam" was all Shepard could make out. Obviously the person was cursing him. When they finally ran out of breath they were silent and just laid there rocking on their shell of blankets, bags and things.
Shepard wasn't in the clear just yet. All around carts and grimy piles of clothes and bags that hid people within them gathered around.
"Go away, you morons!" Shepard's voice echoed through the supposed great hall. The concrete walls told everyone, and everyone stopped to listen. It was too dark to see the eyes of those who gathered. But Sheppard could feel them. A breeze wrapped around him, was it the smell of his mother's chocolate chip cookies?
"I just want to get out of here!" He yelled into his own reply. It circled back to him as if the chamber was nothing more than a loop of sound.
"Can you help me?" Sheppard asked. He was glad his voice didn't echo this time. Those who had gathered didn't move, didn't speak. Something bad was going to happen, Shepard could feel the tension. "I know where there is plenty of mold. I'll trade you that to get me back home."
Finally some movement. One form clearly twisted to confer with another, then twisted back and stepped forward with their squeaking cart.
"Home?"
"Yes," Shepard said, "I want to get back home."
"You can, but you can't stay there. Not for long enough. Never long enough."
"I've got to try."
"But you haven't tried." The person was a woman once. As she stepped forward there were those blinking eyelids Shepard knew.
"I have a girlfriend we were getting married and my family, I don't know why I'm here."
"No one does, I suppose." She said through broken teeth. Her gums were blackened and her breath came like an unwelcome breeze from the mold. "The mold will take you back. It's why we all want it. We want to go back and see our homes again. But they are empty now, we have nothing."
Shepard had sympathy, but he wasn't one of them.
"How does the mold take me back?"
"Don't know. Just does. Now please, where is your secret stash? I've earned it. I've given you what you asked."
"I will only take you, the others must go away." Shepard thought defensively, he'd be swarmed if he gave away the mold just behind him, but perhaps he could lead them all astray. Perhaps there was another patch somewhere. He would just use his nose. Obviously these people's sense of smell had diminished after all these years in filth.
"I don't stay by it because of people wanting it, and if I go they'll follow us both and there won't be enough..."
"Yam, yam, yam!" screeched the upside down turtle.
"...be enough.” Shepard continued, “If I tell you will you tell them to leave me, that I am and liar and don't have any. Then you can sneak off and get the mold all to yourself."
"Why don't you want the mold?"
"I'm not hungry. I don't eat it."
"But you must, or you'll die and you'll never get home again." She shook as if Shepard had said something so offensive to her.
"Please, I need to figure out how I got here and then I know I can get out. But I can't do it if everyone here is bothering me trying to kill me for mold. Mold!" he threw his hands up in frustration.
The woman leaned in close, "Fine, tell me where."
"You'll make them go away?"
She nodded.
"There is a red sock marking the wall opposite of where the mold is."
"How red?"
"It's dirty." He continued his lie, knowing a red sock would be hard to find in this ugly dirty gray world.
"You haven't tried the mold yet. But you should. You need it to get home."
He nodded as if he believed her and she went off back to the group. It took a lot longer than Shepard expected but soon the group started to disperse. Shepard couldn't tell which one was the woman he had told the lie. He hoped Odius would return soon. But what chance did he have of that. He couldn't wait any longer. He had to start running and searching for a way out on his own.
A smell wrapped around Shepard and called him back to the mold he’d quickly hidden. He lay down beside it and smelled dogwoods and he heard his girlfriend’s calling. She coached a girl’s squad of soccer players and they must’ve been playing at Marshall Park. But how was it springtime, it had been winter the last time he checked. He knew it couldn’t be right. The mold must just trigger memories. That was all. No wonder that lady had thought mold was the only way to get home again. He laughed and congratulated his intelligence on figuring it all out. Once he could label them all as insane he could leave the patch of mold and Odius be
hind and seek his own way out. He started up when he heard his girlfriend’s voice.
“It’s like he’s right here.” Then came her mother’s voice. But Shepard couldn’t hear it as clearly.
“Kathy.” He said into the mold.
“What’s wrong?” Her mother asked. “Baby, what’s wrong?” Kathy was crying.
Shepard was sure the hallucinogenic properties of the mold must have been taking hold of him every time he came too close. He had to fight the urge. His stomach rumbled and it felt as if an empty bag sat between his lungs and pelvis. But far worse was the feeling of dread; of emptiness that swelled in what Shepard could only say was his heart.
How long did the effects of the mold last?
Shepard thought maybe just a little, maybe it would give him more hope or a little more clarity. He dipped his finger into the blackest region and lifted the tar like icing off a cake. But he couldn’t bring it near his lips. “I have to get home.” He said to the mold on his fingertip. Then he brought it to his nose and sniffed it. Lasagna. It smelled like lasagna.
Shepard stuck out his tongue it brought the mold to the tip. It burned and tingled and was so sour even in such a small dose that Shepard winced, his eyes clamped shut. He started trying to spit it out. He thought he got it all.
Shepard was standing next to his girlfriend Kathy. She was combing her hair in the mirror. She suddenly jerked around with a look of panic on her face.
“I’m right here!” Shepard laughed. But somehow his voice sounded as if it were underwater. She dropped her comb. She looked everywhere with sadness, she had looked right through Shepard.
It became clear to Shepard he was still in that awful place. All around were the lowing orange orbs in rusted trashcans and barrels. The terrible squeaking of shopping carts and the awful lumps of human beings who sparsely populated were so cold. For a moment he had felt warmth like he was next to Kathy.
It was the mold. It gave him the feelings he had wanted.
“No wonder those idiots eat it.” Then he thought, no wonder they don’t leave. He made the mistake of swallowing. He had not rid his mouth of the mold. It burned his throat.
9 Tales Told in the Dark 6 Page 8
