The darkness engulfed the light.
Elena woke up from her dream. Her hand reached for her nightstand, and she turned on the light before throwing her legs over the edge of her bed. She sat up straight and covered her face with her hands as she rocked back and forth. “Not again,” Elena whispered to herself.
***
After a restless night, Elena woke the next morning. She went upstairs and printed fliers with the picture of the dog. Each flyer had her contact information and a picture of the dog. Visiting each of her neighbors, she tried to find the dog's owner but with no success. After asking neighbors in the Wilson community of Henryetta, she then went down into Henryetta proper. She posted the flyers inside of buildings, inside restaurants, and on telephone poles. After finishing handing out the entire stack but three, she decided to go to her church building.
The church was located in the vicinity of the main street. Among other charitable ministries, it was known for its clothing ministry. People from other towns would come to the church for clothes. Even churches of other denominations would send people to the church because of this ministry.
Elena walked into the white building that stood in the corner of their parking lot. The clothing room was called the Samaritan Closet. The Samaritan Closet was located as a white building located in the church's parking lot, and inside there were four rooms. Because of the high volume of foot traffic in the Samaritan Closet, Elena decided to put a flier inside the clothing room and then walked to it.
“Do you have something to give us, honey?"
Lois Hargrave sat at a wooden desk inside the building. She was a silver-haired woman with oval-shaped glasses, and she wore clothes that would have been more fashionable about twenty years earlier. In her seventies, Lois volunteered to work at the Samaritan Closet. She dedicated the last few decades of her life to helping the needy and put in hundreds of hours inside that old building.
“Well, did you bring anything, honey?” Lois asked for the second time.
"Yes, I posted this flyer. A lost dog wandered to my house. I am trying to get it back to its owner."
“Well, there is a box of tacks in the back room, if you want to put that flyer on the announcement board.”
In the back room was another table with different pieces of office equipment. Elena rummaged through the various items—tape, papers, pencils, pens, finally finding a small box of tacks. She was so concentrated on the tacks that she did not look around the room. When she finally did lift her head, she screamed out in fright.
A man stood in front of her.
He was Native American, diminutive but stocky, maybe five foot four inches. He had shoulder-length black hair, and a black bandana which covered his forehead and left his long, jet black hair exposed. If it weren't for his glaring eyes, Elena would have laughed because the man's bandana and long hair reminded her of an ‘80s heavy metal band. The man wore a black tank top which exposed thick muscularity in his neck, shoulders, and arms. He held clothing in his hand that Elena assumed he was going to take. He wore pants that were not like jeans but weren't exactly like work pants with which she was familiar. They had cargo pockets on either side and multiple pockets towards the belt line. His thick black boots were caked in mud and grass.
“I-I didn’t see you there,” said Elena.
Without saying anything, the man rocked his head back as if in silent laughter. His dark eyes stayed focused on Elena as he hung the piece of clothing back onto a hanger. The man never broke eye contact with her, even as he put on the rough jacket. The man remained silent and then left the room.
Standing with her mouth agape, she wondered what just happened. Suddenly, she remembered that her address was on the flyers. The thought of that man stalking her outside of her house made her head hot with fear.
Elena left the room and went back to Lois Hargraves. Lois had her Bible in front of her and looked up as Elena came back into the room.
“Who was that man?” asked Elena.
"That feller that just left?" asked Lois.
"Yes. Who is he?" asked Elena.
"He never says his name. As a matter of fact, he never says anything. He comes in and heads out," said Lois.
"He never signs in or anything?" asked Elena.
"He signs in. His name is right there," said Lois, pointing to a clipboard.
Elena picked up the clipboard and looked at the initials scribbled onto the paper sign-in sheet.
"I can't read this," said Elena.
“Some of the kids have done volunteer work in here. He’s never been ornery, but all the kids were scared of him. They had some nickname for him. They said they’d seen him around the town.”
“A nickname?”
"Yeah, I have forgotten what it was,” said Lois adjusting her glasses. “But you know how it goes. Homeless guys in a small town always have a persona. They are kind of like the boogeyman, and that persona earns them a nickname. Other than coming for clothes, he's never looking for a handout. Nobody knows his name or where he comes from. They just see him walking everywhere."
She nodded her head and started out the door, a feeling of dread washing over her. “Oh, now I remember,” said Lois.
Elena turned around as she went out the door.
“What?”
“His name?”
“The homeless man?”
“Yes.”
“Well,” said Elena, “what is it?”
“All I remember,” said Mrs Hargrave, “the kids called him ‘The Walking Man.’”
CHAPTER 5: THE WALKING MAN
John T. Chance - Henryetta, Ok
Chance entered his office at 9:05 am. He wore his motorcycle helmet and gloves as well as a gray three-piece suit with a pale-yellow tie. His muscular frame was apparent, but the suit looked loose in his chest, quadriceps, and biceps.
"It's 9:05 am? Where is everyone?" asked Chance.
“We are in the back!" Julie said.
“What is this?" asked Chance "I'm not paying you to play hide-and-seek!"
“Well, Mr. Chance, you’re not paying us enough to risk our lives,” countered Theresa. “Some weirdo came up to the door, so we went into the back so he couldn’t see us.”
"Pardon?" asked Chance.
“That bum,” said Theresa.
"That bum?" asked Chance.
"The Walking Man," said Theresa.
“The Walking Man! That is what they are calling him now?” said Chance laughing. “Yeah, I know him.”
"You know him?" asked Theresa.
“No. I know of him,” said Chance.
"He came up, right to the glass, and looked at us," said Julie.
"What?" asked Chance.
“Stuck his grubby meat-handler up to shade his eyes,” said Theresa, “pressed it against the window, and looked in the office.”
“Well if he’s looking for a free meal, he’s out of luck,” said Chance, laughing. “I’m a financial planner, not a charity ward. Unless he wants some protein bars.”
Theresa looked at Julie, whose eyes were lighting up as she gathered the information from their conversation.
“I wonder what he could want with us?” asked Chance softly, staring down at the ground and refusing eye contact.
“Mr. Chance, are you alright?” Theresa asked. Then she changed the tone of her voice and spoke again, “Mr. Chance, are you losing weight?"
“Is your husband still busy in this area?” Chance ignored her question.
“Yes, and now I think I’m beginning to picture why,” Theresa said and she shuddered as she thought of the Walking Man.
CHAPTER 6: INCIDENT AT THE WILSON COUNTY STORE
Elena - Henryetta, ok
Elena was awake but not fully alert; her green eyes were bloodshot with fatigue. The cellist was in an un-ironed dress that was barely presentable. She walked around her house like a zombie as she looked for her cello. She found the case, packed it into her car before getting into the driver’s seat. She returned to he
r house and spent the next ten minutes frantically getting ready for school before rushing back to her car. Then, in an attempt to wake herself while driving, she plugged her smartphone into the radio and blared metal-inspired cello music.
Chance had told her about times he had been so tired he fell asleep standing up. He called it “droning.” He had said that people would laugh when someone droned, but in reality, droning was scary. He had seen men go to sleep standing up and only to fall on their faces when they were supposed to move. But the part that Elena remembered now which scared her most was the distorted consciousness. Chance said dreams were terrifying when you trained hard because you would be dreaming about your current situation and you would respond accordingly. He said you would be asleep and then take off into the woods all by yourself. Once, he had put a drop of hot sauce in the corner of his eye to keep himself awake.
The community of Wilson Oklahoma was mainly made of dirt roads. Unsurprisingly, dust shot up as the musician drove down them. Elena felt her car vibrate as she drove. Her eyes were heavy, and every time she blinked it was a deliberate effort to open them again. She slapped herself on the face in an attempt to wake herself up.
But the world still turned gray. The dream began to grow in her mind. The dark smoke from the dream billowed into her mind’s eyes and began to consume her sight. She felt like she was drowning.
The sky turned gray. A dark charcoal smoke went up into the air. Snow fell, creating an ugly mixture of the smoke, bringing the pollutant back to the earth. Flames erupted in the white precipitation.
First, a small yellow glow, then a spark, began to spread, turning into a giant, burning ball with an audible hiss as it consumed whatever it touched. There was nothing but the flame.
The scene shook like an earthquake. The whole world was in a violent tremor.
"Oh no!" screamed Elena.
Her eyes shot open. The vehicle was off the road, veering towards a stop sign. She slammed on the brakes. Immediately, she had awoken from her dream and returned to reality. A man stood at the edge of the right side of the road.
She jerked the wheel to the left, pulling the car back up onto the road. The back of the vehicle continued forward even after she had stopped turning, and the car did a complete 360-degree turn. Dust from the gravel road shot up into the air. A cloud of dust engulfed her. The car sat in the middle of the gravel road.
Elena drew in deep, steady breaths, trying to calm her body from the rush of adrenaline.
A large black pick-up truck drove up next to her.
HONK HONK
"Hey, are you alright?" someone screamed. "No -"
"Wait, is that Elena Doolin?" the person asked.
Elena looked out the window. It was Lois from church. Her husband was driving.
"Elena, are you okay?"
"Yeah."
"We saw you spin -"
"Wait! Wait, did you see that man that was right there? Short, stocky fellow?"
"Elena, are you sure you okay?"
“The man!” exclaimed Elena, still panicked. “The man. Did you see him?”
Lois stuck her head out her car window and looked down the road, as did her husband.
"Honey, we don't get too many joggers around here."
"I'm okay, Lois. I’m just tired. I am going to go get an energy drink.”
The conversation seemed to drag on, but Elena was too embarrassed to continue. Finally, it ended. "If you need anything just call us."
“I will,” said Elena as she waved goodbye.
"I know I saw a man right there," she said to herself as she looked back at the stop sign. The man was gone.
Her eyes went to the wooded area off the road. She couldn’t see any sign of where he went.
“Was there even a man there?” she began to question herself. There, not fifty yards in front of her was the gas station. She drove into its parking lot and stopped.
Elena pressed her hands together and quickly said a prayer of gratitude. She gathered her things and turned her car off. She looked out as she opened her door to get out. There outside the gas station, on an old wooden bench, sat a man. His clothes were so worn and ragged Elena could imagine the bitter odor that would assault her nostrils when she passed him.
"Were you -" she spoke as she passed him. The man was thin, frail, and bald, but there was a fiery spirit contained in his eyes.
"Do you got any change?" asked the man.
Despite the initial fear, she felt pity, and she drew a $10 bill from her purse.
Elena could feel the gaze of the man as she walked towards the gas station. Looking up, she gave an awkward smile, and then put the bill into the coffee can that served as a collection plate. The man offered no thanks but sat in silence. She hurried into the store, trying to look unafraid, not allowing herself to think of the homeless man that had been in the Samaritan Closet.
A bell on the door rang as she entered. Inside the store, she reached her hand into her purse and felt a sigh of relief as she felt her pistol. Ever since the Samaritan Closet, fear gripped her heart, but as she touched the weapon, she remembered her training, and her thoughts went to Chance and their failed relationship.
“Keep it together!” she said to herself.
As sorrow grew in her heart, other emotions began to pull at her. Moisture started building in her eyes.
“Ms. Doolin?”
A hand gripped Elena’s arm. In an instant, she threw her hand into her purse and grabbed the pistol, still keeping it in the bag. Her index finger went from along the frame of the weapon into the trigger guard. She snapped her head around, ready to shoot whoever had grabbed her.
“Ms. Doolin, are you alright?”
There stood Samson Otto.
“What are you doing in here, Sam? It’s after 8:00. You should be in class.”
"I had to get gas, or my car would have died. I would have been on time to school, but then I saw you, and you looked so sad, so I followed you in.”
"Sam, you can't miss class -"
"You need to get off the property!" screamed a third voice.
Both Elena and Sam stopped their conversation and turned to the manager who stood behind the cash register. He yelled at the homeless man who still sat outside the store; as he yelled gas station manager slammed the cash register, with such force that the coins in the tray bounced onto the counter. The man then went back from the cash register and looked up at what appeared to be equipment hanging from the ceiling that Sam and Elena couldn't see.
“We spend a pretty penny on this camera equipment, and it just goes out!” the man said, crossing his arms and shaking his head. “Now it’s back on!” he exclaimed. “That guy… that hobo out there is just sleeping out in front of my store, making a general nuisance of himself.”
“Is he still out there?” asked Elena.
“Yep. Now, he’s racked out on my wooden bench. Just like it’s his personal sofa.”
“Let’s get out of here, Ms. Doolin. I’m sorry I missed class,” Sam interrupted.
“It’s alright, Sam,” said Elena, “Trust me, go get a drink. I'll pay for it."
“I can’t,” said Sam
"Just go get the drink, Sam!"
"No-no, let's get out of here!" cried Sam.
"Sam, you have to use your head. Now let’s get in the checkout line and then get out of here. Go get yourself a Coke, and I’ll pay for it.”
The teenager left to get a drink. The manager hissed again. Feeling tired and overwhelmed by the experience, Elena went with Sam to get the drink. Because of all the drama, Elena had forgotten the reason she had come in. She paused for a moment and then went and grabbed an energy drink. Sam grabbed a generic cola, and the two went to the checkout line.
“An energy drink, Ms. Doolin? You know those things can kill you, right?” Sam asked.
“That is the least of my worries right now,” said Elena.
***
The two checked out, with Elena paying for both of their carbona
ted beverages and then they exited the gas station. As they walked outside, Elena looked over her shoulder. There was the homeless man. He lay unconscious on the store’s wooden bench.
“That’s funny,” said Elena, “he looks kind of organized to be asleep. Look at the way his arms and feet are crossed.”
The man’s arms crossed his chest, and his feet crossed over each other as well. All the pockets on the vagrant’s pants were turned inside out.
***
Elena stood outside the Henryetta church of Christ. Pulling out her phone, she sent a quick text to the youth minister. Are you inside?
Her phone pinged almost immediately with a response from Gavan Jenkins, the youth minister. I don’t recognize this number.
Elena replied back. Sorry. It's me, Elena Doolin.
Gavan: Yeah. What's up?
Elena: I wanted to come in and talk to any leadership in the building right now. Is that alright?
Gavan: Yeah. Let me come let you in.
The youth minister walked down from his office to the front door. Gavan Jenkins was the full-time youth minister at Elena's church. The church had a policy that stated there would be one full-time minister at the building during the work week. The pulpit minister had gone out to meet with someone, so the youth minister, Gavan remained at the church building. Feeling his pocket vibrating, Gavan reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.
"Hey, Elena," he said as he opened the door. "What can I help you with?"
Elena opened her mouth to speak, but there was a loud thud as something heavy dropped in the parking lot.
"Well, for starters, I wanted to talk about that," she said as she entered the church building.
"Are you talking about the boys outside who are working out?" asked Gavan.
"Yeah. Don't you think that's a little weird? Those boys loaded all those weights into the bed of their truck, brought the weights out here, and started working out in the grassy area right outside of the church?"
"I see your concern, Elena, but do you really think it is weird that those teenage boys wanted to work out, and we gave them an area to do so?"
The Dark Lord of Oklahoma Page 4
