The Painting

by Ryan Casey

  Reginald looked around the kitchen, unable to hold eye contact with Donny.

  The tension welled up inside Donny’s chest. “You knew her, didn’t you? And—and when I mentioned her, you didn’t… you didn’t report me to the police because it gave you hope, didn’t it? Didn’t it?”

  Reginald’s silence and shaking chin said it all. He stared over at the wall, over at the photograph.

  “She was your wife, wasn’t she?”

  Reginald reached for his glass and lifted it to his mouth even though there was no orange juice left inside.

  “It was on walking trip eleven months ago,” Reginald said, his arms laid out in front of him. He could barely look Donny in the eye as he spoke. “Me and her, we used to like our walking. We used—we used to go hiking all the time; go exploring the forest. I s’pose you could say it was our pastime.”

  Donny listened attentively as Reginald continued to speak.

  “I went down, down this path and towards the lake. Absolutely beautiful day, it was. Manny was in this little log cabin just up the hill, smiling away like she always was no doubt. I call out to her, ‘Manny, come down here and look at this,’ and she doesn’t reply. I turn round and… and she’s gone. Completely gone.”

  Donny shuffled in his chair. “What made you so sure that it was… a gap?”

  “I went up to the cabin. Obviously I didn’t think much of it at first. I just think she’s gone for a wander, or she’s fooling about or something. It’s the last thing you worry about, really. We had much more fallout come through the gaps than disappearances from our place, and like everyone else, I truly thought they’d closed all the gaps.” He rubbed his hands against his knees, his chin shaking. “But then I look on the ground just as I’m walking out the cabin and I see… I see this ring, staring up at me, smoke around it. I reach down and pick it up and it’s hot to touch, y’know? It’s hot to touch. And then all of a sudden, I remember the news report of young Tommy Baker who went missing a few years back and… Well, I guess I just know.”

  The pair of them were silent for a few minutes. Poor guy—out and about with his missus one day and then, nothing. That said, he wasn’t much different from himself, but at least Donny had a chance, didn’t he? Some sort of chance?

  “I’m sorry… about your wife. I really am. But—”

  “I’m assuming from the fact that you were staying in her house that she isn’t with us anymore?”

  Donny gulped and nodded his head in acknowledgement.

  Instead of remorse, Reginald’s mouth twitched into a smile. “Thank you,” he said. “Thank you. For eleven months I’ve… I’ve just wanted to know that I’m not completely insane, and now—thanks to you—now I know.’

  The birds sang their unique songs outside as the sun began to heat up the kitchen. He had to ask him. He had to find out how to get back. If there was a way, he had to go. He’d helped Reginald—now it was Reginald’s turn to get him home.

  “I don’t… I don’t mean to sound rude or anything like that, but you mentioned that… that there was a way of getting ba—”

  “I’ve been waiting so, so long,” Reginald said. “I went to the authorities so often to tell them that a gap had opened but I had no real proof other than my wife’s disappearance. Do you know what they said to me? Do you, hmm? They said she’d probably done a runner. They said there was more of a chance she’d done a runner than falling through a gap. They—” He shifted his head to the side and stopped talking, gulping back the tears.

  “I know. I… I’m sorry I don’t have better news about your wife. It’s just—”

  “I was just waiting for someone like you, Donny. Waiting for someone like you to prove to them that I wasn’t mad all along.” He licked his chapped lips, the scraggy hair on his head reflecting the sun with its greasy coating. There was something different in his eyes—a shift in his entire demeanor.

  “Well, now you know. I need your help. If… if your wife fell through that gap and she’s somehow linked to me, then maybe that’s my key out of here. The gaps—you say that if the person remembers things they can go back through them. Then maybe I can go back. I… I remember things. Maybe I can… I can find some things out about your wife’s time in my world. Maybe… maybe I can get some sort of help.”

  Reginald shook his head. “You just don’t get it, do you? The only way you’re leaving this house is with me to go to the authorities. I need—I need to prove it to them. I need to prove it to them that—that I was right.”

  Donny’s body tensed up against the back of the chair. “But I thought—”

  “I’ve waited for months and months and months and months and months for a—a sign. A sign that I’m not insane.” His voice grew more disjointed as he gesticulated and waved his arms. “I—I waited for so long. And now, now you just want to leave, hmm? You just want to leave? You’re just like the rest. Just like the rest—selfish.” He stood up from the table, the chair falling backwards as he rose. “Come here. Just come here and we can get this done with.”

  Donny jumped out of his chair and backed away from Reginald, his heart pounding. Reginald pulled a white cloth out of his pocket and walked towards him. Not again. “Listen, I understand,” Donny said. “I understand how hard it must be to—”

  “You’ve no idea how hard it must be,” Reginald shouted. “You—you’ve no idea. You’ve had it easy. You’ve no idea at all how bad it hurts.” He lunged for Donny, who backed up to the kitchen wall, missing his face with the cloth by a matter of inches.

  But he had him where he wanted him, against a wall, cornered. Donny grabbed Reginald’s arm as he tried to force the cloth further into his face, baring his teeth, the vein in his head almost bursting with tension.

  “Reginald, you don’t have to do this. I have a girlfriend too. I have a home and I’m… I’m just like you. I’ve just—I’ve just fallen into this place by accident and—” The cloth edged further towards his mouth. He could smell the medicinal tang as it waved in his face. “And all I’m asking for—please—is your help. Please.”

  Reginald kept on pushing and Donny held his ground, their arms shaking like opposite sides of magnets battling one another. Reginald’s eyes were bloodshot and wild as he salivated like a rabid dog. This could not be happening. This could not be fucking happening. Sara, the book… the book didn’t matter. He just wanted to get home. He’d get any job or career she wanted him to. He just wanted to be with her again. He just wanted to get out.

  Reginald let out a cry and fell to his knees. The chloroform cloth dropped beside him as he curled his head into his hands.

  Donny remained pinned to the wall. He thought about reaching down for Reginald—patting him on the back and telling him it was going to be okay—but he had no idea what frame of mind the man was in. Instead, he shifted slowly from the wall and stepped on the cloth of chloroform, making sure it was out of Reginald’s reach.

  After what felt like hours in silence, Reginald spoke.

  “I just want her back,” he said, sniffing and sobbing into his hands. “I—I just want her back.”

  Donny swallowed the lump in his throat and reached down for Reginald. He patted him on the back, which made him flinch initially, but soon he let him rest his hand there. “I know,” he said. “I know. I want the same as you. I just want my Sara back, and… and I’m sorry for everything you’ve been through but you’re the only one who can help me. But we… we don’t have to rush. We can—we can wait here for however long you need.”

  Reginald sniffed and tapped his forehead against the floor as Donny patted his back, the roughness of his jumper tickling his hand.

  Above the fireplace, a picture of a smiling Reginald squeezed up to Manny Bates, wrapped up in warm clothing on a mountaintop, stared down at them.

  “So you’ll help me then?”

  Reginald sat on the chair opposite Donny, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. Donny could see that he was struggling; battling with his cons
cience and motives. But he’d managed to get him in the chair. He’d managed to comfort him and get him in the chair. That was something.

  “It’s not easy,” Reginald said, reluctance in his voice.

  “I… I get that. And I do appreciate your reasons for not wanting to help, I really do. I’m so grateful for everything you’ve done for me so far. But please—I just need to know what I have to do. You don’t have to come with me. You just have to tell me what I have to do next.”

  Reginald scoffed. “If I don’t come with you, the second they see you’re not chipped, you’re in line for a public execution.” He shook his head and slumped back. “This house,” he said. “This house you went to—the house my wife was staying in. You mentioned a painting. What was on that painting?”

  Donny squeezed his eyelids together and pictured it. The painting seemed so long ago but it was just as clear as ever in his mind’s eye. “There were six trees, aut—”

  “What sort of trees?”

  “Um, oak, I guess.”

  “Are you absolutely sure they were oak trees and there were six of them?”

  “Does it matter?”

  Reginald’s wide eyes burned into Donny’s. “If you want my help, it matters.”

  “Yeah. Yeah, they were oak. There was… there was long, green grass. No—it was yellowing. It looked dry; void of life. And…” He held his eyes tighter together and tried to picture the intricacies of the painting. “There was a fence. A tiny fence. I think the artist must’ve been at some sort of house because—because of the shadowing on the grass in front.”

  Reginald sighed. “What about the figures?”

  Tap tap tap.

  Donny opened his eyes, the skin on his arms tingling. “Did I mention the figures?”

  “Donny,” Reginald said. “There are always figures.”

  Donny gulped. “Well, there were six of them. Six silhouetted figures. But then… when the boys appeared in the house—the little boys—the number of figures changed. There were… there were three figures and three boys.”

  Reginald’s eyes twinkled. “The boys appeared in the house?”

  “Yeah, they… it was as if they were tormenting me. Messing around with my head, or trying to get me to see something. I don’t know.”

  Reginald scratched his beard, flakes of dandruff snowing towards the carpet. “Right. Right, that does change things.”

  “Is—is it a problem?”

  “No,” Reginald said, raising his arm. “No, it isn’t a problem. In fact, it should be exactly the opposite. If reality was beginning to merge between the gaps, then it means you have a stronger chance of getting back.”

  Donny nodded, acknowledging the words but barely understanding them. “Who were the boys?”

  Reginald’s eyelids twitched. “They’re… they’re linked to the figures. Nobody knows who the figures are, but they are always there, and they manifest in different ways. Our governments deny they exist. We call them The Watching.”

  We’rewatchingwe’rewatchingwe’rewatching.

  “Are they the ones responsible for the gaps?”

  Reginald shifted up from his chair, scratching the back of his neck. “We just know that they’re watching. Are you ready?”

  “Ready?”

  Reginald grabbed his green raincoat from the hook beside the doorway. He picked up a jumper by his side and tossed it over to Donny, the dust clouding around him as it landed in his hands. “I believe I know of the place in the painting. I can take you as far as the edge of the woods, and then you’re on your own from there.”

  Donny looked down at the jumper, wide-eyed. He was helping him?

  “You’re going to have to wear that. If a guard approaches us, you stay silent and you let me talk. If a guard asks to see your chip, you tell him you’re a second-gen.”

  “Second-gen?”

  “Some people have bad reactions to the chip. Made them exempt from… Oh, does it matter? Just get your jumper on and follow me.”

  Donny fumbled with the dusty grey jumper and pulled it over his neck, the material itching his skin as it bagged around his arms. He stood up and walked over to the door.

  Reginald held his hand out and stopped him. “Oh, and if they tell you to surrender, you run. Even if they shoot you right there, it’s better than the ordeal they’ll put you through if they catch you.”

  Donny nodded in acknowledgement. “Thank you, for—”

  “I didn’t help you. I never met you. You’re just a… a state of mind that helped me get over my wife. Now, let’s get you back to your girlfriend so you can hide that ring under the cushion after all.” He opened the door and the bright light from outside filled the hallway.

  Donny took a final look around the lounge area—the fireplace, crackling away, the indented leather sofa where the Lynchian Alsation dog had sat, the photographs on the wall of Reginald and Manny Bates.

  “Do I get to say goodbye to Yelp?”

  Reginald shook his head. “From this moment onwards, you never met Alice, okay? It’s just you. The more people that know about you, the worse. Keep her quiet. Okay? She loves that dog. Don’t do anything to compromise it.”

  Donny nodded. He wasn’t too keen on Alsatians anyway.

  He stepped outside and inhaled the fresh, moist air.

  It seemed like they had been driving down the road forever.

  Trees lined either side of the road, deep green arms reaching up into the sky and keeping their secrets close to their chest. Reginald’s car was pretty run of the mill—a dirty red, two-seater with no boot. Donny wasn’t so sure whether that was merely a design choice or whether there were no such things as ‘car boots’ in Reginald’s reality.

  H.P. Sauce but no car boots. What sort of a place was this?

  “How long to go?”

  Reginald rolled his eyes. “You’re like an impatient kid.” He reached over to the dashboard and pulled a folded old map out, the pages curling at the edges through years of use. He opened it up on the steering wheel and squinted at it, keeping one eye on the road. “This map should take you on the route me and my wife used to walk. If you follow it, you’ll reach the place. It… it might appear differently to you than it does to me. It depends on what you saw before the gap, y’know? I can’t guarantee you’ll find what you’re looking for, or whether I’ve made a mistake, but I’ve done what I can.”

  “And I appreciate that,” Donny said.

  Reginald sighed, biting at his bottom lip and scanning the trees. The birds flew out above them as the road narrowed, dirt tracks forming at either side. Thus far, they hadn’t passed a single car.

  Not until Donny spotted the car approaching in the distance.

  Reginald was staring at the map as he accelerated down the straight road. He grumbled away and turned it upside-down. “I’m sure the… ah yeah, if I take you here you should be able to just follow the path and—”

  “You might want to pull over for this guy.”

  Reginald looked up from the map and at the oncoming vehicle. The map slipped from his hands and his cheeks went red. “Damn it,” he said. “Damn it.” He fumbled for his seatbelt with his shaking hand and clicked it into place with a few attempts.

  “What’s going on?”

  Reginald was breathing short, shallow breaths, his hands tightly gripping the steering wheel as his foot hit the brake. “Checks. Personnel checks. Just—just keep quiet and let me do the talking, okay?’ He opened the dashboard drawer again and scurried around for some more papers, loose receipts dropping to the floor of the car. He threw a little green book onto Donny’s knee. “If they ask, you just show them this, okay? It—it might not work but… but just try.”

  The black vehicle ahead flicked on its orange indicator and pulled up directly in front of Reginald’s car as he ground to a halt. Donny could hear Reginald’s shallow, nervous breaths as the pair of them sat in silence.

  A man stepped out of the side of the van. He was dressed in a blue sui
t with yellow patches on the shoulders and knees. On his head, a helmet, black-tinted glass covering his eyes and a mouthpiece in his face.

  Attached to his leg, a gun, almost the length of his thigh.

  Donny gripped the seat tightly and took deep breaths into his stomach as the guard approached. He could do this. He’d been through worse in the last few days. It couldn’t end here.

  Reginald wound down his window and the man placed his gloved hand on the side, the car tilting slightly with his weight. “Nice day for a trip to the woods, huh?”

  Reginald attempted a twitchy smile and forced a laugh, which was slightly too amused for the situation. “Of course, of course. Me and my friend here were just… we’re hikers. Just heading down for a walk.”

  The guard smiled and nodded his head. “Enjoy a bit of hiking myself. You been walking long?”

  Donny sat in his seat, staring out through the front window. It felt like pins were tormenting his skin. He had to be ready to run. He had to be ready to get out of the car and run.

  “Pretty much all my life,” Reginald said. “Always been a fan of the countryside.”

  “And your friend here?”

  Donny shifted his eyes up at the guard, who offered a nod of the head.

  “He’s… my friend’s been ill. This is his first day out in a while.”

  The guard let go of the side of the car and stepped back, the vehicle tilting back into place. “Well I’m sorry to hear that. You better now?”

  Did he speak? His cheeks burned. He coughed and nodded his head as he gripped hold of the door handle. He had to be ready.

  “Good,” the guard said, kicking a stone across the ground. “Good. Anyway, I don’t have all day and you don’t either. Chips please.”

  Reginald blinked heavily and reached for his sleeve with his shaking hand. He raised it out of the window and the guard ran what looked like a barcode scanner over it. A red light hovered across Reginald’s wrist, the device bleeped, and the guard nodded his head.