Aegis: Catalyst Grove

by Nathan Roten

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Night Terrors

  A warm breeze blew through the leaves as the couple walked along a wide trail in the woods with their two year old boy. The dad wore jeans and a blue button down shirt and walked hand in and with his wife, who was wearing a yellow and white summer dress. The little boy reached out his hand as the mom took hold of it.

  “Climb?” the boy asked.

  “Yes, dear, you can climb.” The little boy giggled as he began walking up the fallen tree trunk. As he got near the end of it, he looked at his dad.

  “‘ump? Peese j..ump?”

  “Yes, Graham, you can jump.” The dad took hold of Graham’s hand as he squatted down and leapt from the fallen tree. The boy giggled as his feet hit the ground, followed by his stomach. His dad smiled and dusted off his jeans and orange t-shirt, gently setting him back on his feet. Not wanting a good tree trunk to go to waste, Graham tried to go back to do it again, but his mom and dad kept hold of his hands as they continued down the trail.

  “I love you, baby boy,” the mom said.

  “Ouve ouuu,” the two year old Graham replied.

  The couple strolled along for a few minutes until they saw a clearing under a cluster of oak trees.

  “There is a little open area right over there to sit down for lunch. How about it, Graham? Are you getting hungry son?” the dad asked.

  “Eat!” Graham eagerly replied.

  “Yes, eat. You need to eat so you can get big and strong like daddy.” The dad raised his arm and flexed his bicep. He belted out a laugh as Graham tried to imitate him by curling his arm. “I love you, son.”

  “Ouve ouuu da-di…..Eat?”

  The dad smiled. “Yes, eat.” He rustled his fingers through the little boy’s hair. “You know, you are a special little boy, Graham. You make mommy and daddy very happy and very proud.”

  The small family spread out a blue plaid blanket and set out a wicker picnic basket. The mom popped the latch and removed two ham and swiss sandwiches cut perfectly from corner to corner, and one smaller PB&J sandwich that was one slice of bread folded over on itself. Following the sandwiches was some fresh fruit and some white linen napkins. Graham grabbed the first thing he could reach, taking a huge bite of his peanut butter and jelly sandwich, then another and another. The dad and mom both unwrapped their sandwiches, completely unaware of the large wave of smoke approaching quickly behind them.

  Graham sat and stared as the wave got bigger, towering over the tops of the trees, resembling a tidal wave from a hurricane. As it moved closer, the trees began to bend, and then disappear in the billowing wake. Feeling the growing intensity of the wind, the dad turned around in shock. In an instant and with one swoop of his arm, he swiftly tucked his wife and child behind his back.

  “STAY BEHIND ME!” He had a controlled urgency in his voice; the type of tone that left no room for objection. Graham huddled behind his father feeling his strong arms push him closer to his mother. “No matter what, stay behind me!” It was hard to hear him over the roaring of the winds and the terrifying wall of swirling black smoke.

  In a moment of unanticipated fear and anxiety, Graham cried out in a loud squeal. Flashes of light shot all around the family, penetrating the large wall of smoke.

  “I’ll die before you take them!”

  More flashes of light streamed before Graham’s eyes, followed by loud, blood curdling shrieks from the mom. Graham sat there unable to process what was going on. Without thinking, he simply reacted with more wailing as the entire forest was enveloped in blinding light. Graham’s scream lasted for what seemed like an eternity, then nothing. Silence overtook the noise as darkness eclipsed the light. Graham’s head began to swim. His little body began to shake until he fell on his side and went limp.

  With a jolt of adrenaline, Graham sat straight up in his bed, snapping out of the nightmare. Large beads of sweat streamed down his face. In a split second before it all came crashing down, Graham noticed everything around him suspended in midair, as if all his belongings were being held up by invisible strings. The small metal night-table with the cup of water, his treasured rubber ball, a picture frame, miscellaneous books and notepads, and even his footlocker full of clothes were all hanging there like marionette puppets. He caught a quick glimpse of it all before it came crashing down around him. With resounding thuds of his wooden footlocker, followed by the hollow ring of his cup hitting the wooden floor, Graham realized that once again his nightmare had caused this freakish, unexplainable reaction. This time, however, he had caused an actual earthquake.

  All of the kids were beginning to wake, looking around as they sat up like statues in their beds. The entire Orphanage was shaking. A large crack formed in the floor, just under Graham’s bed. The quake lasted for a few moments after Graham woke up, and then slowly dissipated. Mr. Kobble ran into the room to check on the children. Ms. Winstone was doing the same in the girl’s wing.

  “Easy there, lads. It was just eh tremor. Ev’rything is alright now. We may feel a few aftershocks, but the worst is behind us.”

  All the boys in the room began to squirm. This was the first time something like this had happened. Mr. Kobble quickly made his way around the beds checking on each boy individually. Seeing that Graham was covered in sweat, he became concerned. “Yer really shaken, Mr. Graham. Do you need some water to calm the nerves?”

  “Nn..no sir. I’m fine. I am just not used to the building shaking like that. I’m fine. Really.”

  “Alright, lad. If yer sure.”

  Mr. Kobble gave Graham a few pats on the back, then stood up and checked on the other children, and then made his way into the next room.

  As Graham sat there, large drops of sweat dripped off the end of his nose while his lungs gasped for air. He felt like he had just run a marathon. His lungs huffed and his head swirled with pain and confusion. His eyes darted back and forth over his scattered belongings. He held both sides of his head, trying to ease the pain with deep breaths to control his panicking lungs.

  “Mom….Dad,” Graham whispered in a quivering voice.

  The pounding of his head echoed his throbbing heart. What did I do? A tidal wave of guilt washed over him, crushing his spirit. He gritted his teeth, trying to keep his emotions at bay. What did I do to you? I’m sorry. I am so sorry.

  With his head still pounding, Graham twisted his legs to the side of the bed and slowly put both feet on the ground. The scenes in his head were still reeling from the nightmare, and the earthquake still had him a bit disoriented. Graham pushed his knuckles down into the firm mattress, standing to his feet. His legs were a little shaky, but after taking another deep breath, he stood up, grabbed the rubber ball from the floor, and quietly made his way past the other beds to the window in the far left corner of the room. Fortunately for him, the other boys in his room were mingling together, talking about the thrill of it all. This allowed Graham to retreat and be alone.

  Graham’s sorrow for the fate of his parents slowly began to morph into self-pity. Graham crossed his arms on top of the window sill, and placed his chin on top of his arms. As he rolled the ball around mindlessly in his hand, he peered into the darkness of the storm clouds, letting out a small sigh. It was a cliché stormy night; the type of weather that mimicked the emotion he held inside. As rain began to pelt the glass of the window, Graham stared off beyond the cliffs to the small outline of the lake in the distance. He lived in a large building surrounded by people, yet, at this moment, he felt completely alone. Worse yet, he felt like a freak. He didn’t want to push people away. To the contrary, he wanted just the opposite, but his dream was a constant reminder that when he let people get close, they got hurt. He could not let that happen. All he wanted to be was normal. The burden of his unexplainable secret was beginning to crush his soul after years of holding it all inside. He wondered if he would ever feel happy again.

  Hopelessness began to overtake him until he was reminded of his chat with Ms. Winstone. In his mind,
he heard the conversation play over and over in his head. Graham could see the seriousness in Ms. Winstone’s eyes.

  “Whatever you are dreaming about, dear, you are looking for answers, not magic remedies. If you want help, all you need to do is ask.”

  Maybe it was time to reach out to someone, but not just anyone. It had to be Cavaness. There must be some truth to the rumors. If he couldn’t help, then who could? It was a long shot, but it was one Graham had to take, however terrible the odds were. Graham lifted himself from the window sill, and with it, his spirits. Hope was not something Graham was used to feeling. It was refreshing what a small dose of hope could do. Graham resolved himself to focus on the benefit of talking to Cavaness rather than to reflect on his problem. This gave him a warm feeling of contentment, which ran throughout his entire body. I’m going to find a way to talk with you tomorrow, Cavaness. And when I do, maybe you can tell me what is happening to me and how to control it.

  Holding on to that thought like a lifeline, Graham crawled back under his covers and immediately drifted off into a heavy, dreamless sleep.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Dinner and a Guest

  The following day flew by. Before they knew it, most of the afternoon had already come and gone, and dinner was being served. Graham and Damien sat at the first of three long tables that stretched out almost the entire length of the dining room. The meals here were never quite enough to fill you up; however, you also never went without one. Tonight, Graham pushed some mashed potatoes around a thin slice of beef and a little pile of green peas. He could not get the conversation with Ms. Winstone out of his head, especially her last remark. “Those who reach out for help usually find it.”

  Damien looked over at Graham. “Heard you got a pretty good tongue-lashing, amigo. You ok?”

  Coming out from his daze, Graham looked at Damien. “Oh..yea. Don’t worry about me,” Graham said. “I don’t really want to talk about it. Let’s concentrate on tonight. Mr. Kobble will be roaming the halls after lights out, so we need to be careful as we sneak downstairs.”

  The two of them talked briefly about logistics, then scarfed down the remainder of their food. After dinner, all of the children had to immediately go up to their rooms and clean up before lights out. Since Graham and Damien did not share a room, they parted ways at the entrance to their bedrooms with a mutual nod in anticipation of the night’s events.

  “When I see the headlights of our guest’s car, I will knock on the air vent screen. Got it?”

  “Claro,” Damien replied.

  “What?” Graham said. “I don’t know Spanish, dude. Speak English.”

  “Claro means that I understand. I know two languages Graham. You need to diversify. If I can learn your language, you can at least learn a few simple phrases in mine,” said Damien, rolling his eyes.

  “Whatever. Stay by the vent. I will talk to you soon.”

  “Claro,” Damien replied with a smirk on his face.

  Graham smiled back acknowledging the hint, and then disappeared into his bedroom.

  “LIGHTS OUT!” belched Mr. Kobble with his hands cupped around his mouth. “Sleep tight, y’ung lads. May yer dreams be as pleasant and refreshing as the Scotland Springs.”

  This was his little saying every night. Though he was often abrupt and spoke without a filter, his goodnight wishes hinted at his tender heart for the young kids of Greenwood.

  Graham lay silently, hardly able to keep still. The thought of finally getting some answers sent electric sparks through his nerves. Not wanting to wake his roommates, he just laid in bed facing the window and let his mind run free as he continued listening to the heavy footsteps of Mr. Kobble pacing up and down the hallway.

  “I can set up a meeting with him if you like.” Ms. Winstone’s offer only fueled Graham’s excitement. As he tossed the small rubber ball up and down, Graham’s mind continuing to roam. He could barely hold back his excitement as he pictured someone to help carry his burden. Someone else that could not only explain the levitating and light, but also help him control the outbursts. It was all too much. The thoughts and questions continued to multiply in Graham’s mind until his focus was thrown off by a bright flash of light from outside.

  He’s here! Graham mouthed as he got up from the bed.

  Graham fell to his knees and crawled over to the nearest air vent. On the other side of the wall was Damien’s cluster of kids. Not knowing if the other kids were asleep, Graham gave three light knocks on the metal vent cover. A few minutes passed and then he heard the faint thud of Damien’s feet on the floor, followed by three knocks from the other side.

  “Everyone asleep?” whispered Graham.

  “Sí. I could hardly hear your knocks over the snoring,” replied Damien.

  “Good. The headlights of the car just came up the driveway a few minutes ago. We need to move fast. It’s been about twenty minutes since Mr. Kobble gave his goodnight wishes. The coast should be clear.

  “Ok. I will peek my head out first to see if the hallway is empty. If it is, I’ll knock twice on your door.”

  “Got it.”

  Damien stood up and tip-toed across the room and grabbed hold of the antique door knob. Before turning it, he took in a deep breath, shaking his head side to side.

  “I hate drama.”

  With a few creaks, a sliver of light appeared from the hallway. Damien poked his head out, squinting and blinking his eyes, letting his eyes adjust before proceeding. The hallway was empty. Damien swiftly made his way to the entrance of Graham’s room and rapped twice on the door. Within seconds, Graham emerged with the same tilt of the head and blinking of the eyes.

  “Great day, that’s bright!” Graham whispered.

  Once they had both acclimated to the light, they treaded as lightly as they could down the hall. Greenwood was an old building, and the floors loved to creak and crack, even with the lightest of loads. Arriving at the staircase, they turned and looked at each other in eager anticipation.

  Keeping all their weight on their toes, they dashed down the stairs, trying to displace their bodyweight by holding on the handrail. Now nearing the ground level, they gave a quick glance to the left, then to the right at the bottom of the staircase. Satisfied with the vacancy of the halls, they bolted down the final stretch of hallway to the safety of the Parlor room. Gasping for breath, they both sat in the darkness trying to keep their panting to a minimum as they let their heightened pulses calm down to a normal pace.

  Graham looked at Damien with a wide grin on his face. “We made it! Man, what a thrill, huh!”

  Damien countered Graham’s grin with a scowl. “I hate thrills.”

  Ms. Winstone and her guest had already exchanged pleasantries by the time Graham and Damien were able to listen in. Graham leaned through the doorway so that the murmurs of Ms. Winstone’s conversation became recognizable words.

  “How much longer do you have in town, Chase?”

  “I haven’t quite decided when I will leave. I suppose in the next three or four days. I have a few more things to do at Portfield Manor, and then I will make my way back to Glendale.”

  “What on earth are you doing at Portfield Manor? Wasn’t that place condemned after the fire all those years ago?” asked Ms. Winstone.

  “Was condemned, Ms. Winstone. Not currently condemned. I have been hired as the Groundskeeper of Portfield Manor. It is not the most elegant of jobs, but it pays the bills. The Manor was built shortly after Greenwood and has remained in the Alexander family since its completion. It has not served a purpose for the community since the early 1900’s, but I guess it holds a certain sentimental value, so the family wants it kept up.”

  “Chase, you are no longer living here. Please, call me Olivia.”

  “Yes Ms….um, Olivia,” she said with a smile.

  “Some say that the place is haunted, you know,” said Ms. Winstone. She leaned in toward Chase like a storyteller at a campfire. “The children here tell tales of that place almost ever
y night. They say it is villainous. Of course, I do not believe in such nonsense…” she trailed off, waiting for a reaction. After a moment of silence, she signed. “But there is no denying the reputation that place has.”

  Damien looked at Graham. “Ms. Winstone actually smiled. She never smiles. I wonder if it hurt using those new muscles.”

  Graham chuckled. Like a unicorn.

  They both snickered as they turned their attention back to the conversation at hand.

  Chase was amused and intrigued by the stories, though of course he already knew about them. They were the same ones he and his friends told while he was a resident here. Enjoying the nostalgia, he decided to just keep quiet and let her continue.

  “All sorts of emotions come with the changing of seasons, especially as the chill fills the autumn air. The leaves fall from the trees and the moon shines bright, casting mischievous shadows. It is a breeding ground for spooky stories and heightened imaginations.” She leaned in conspiratorially. “The children tell stories of unexplained light coming from the house, with shadowy figures moving throughout the abandoned building at the top of the hill. Even I can admit that strange noises wake me up every so often and I find it a bit strange to see the trees bending and shaking all around that place as if something or someone is tromping through the forest.”

  “I assure you, Ms. Winsto….er, Olivia, that I would remember crossing paths with a ghost or goblin.” Chase grinned. “The only thing to fear there is the loneliness of a large, empty house.”

  “Well, that is reassuring, Chase. It suits you to manage a home, you know. You always did have such a keen eye for detail and a keen ability to handle situations. Speaking of situations….have you had any more relapses with the nightmares?”

  Graham’s eyes widened in excitement. He lunged forward, almost to the point of falling into the other room. He had to be sure he did not miss a single word. Damien looked over to see the expression on Graham’s face.