A World Divided

by Rebekah Clipper

  She placed her hand on the handle, getting ready to pull, when the door shot toward her with so much force she fell down hard on her rear end. “Ow!” she yelped out as an unidentified person let out a loud squeak of surprise. Chase walked over to her and licked her gently, then turned to face the person standing in front of them. He stood over her and lowered his head, making the slightest growl. Elise was pretty sure she was the only one who could hear him.

  The person’s features were shadowed by the light streaming in from behind. Chase reluctantly moved closer to the person, who remained amazingly still, and commenced to sniff him for a few moments. Chase must have deemed this person trustworthy, because his stiff stance relaxed and he licked the stranger’s hand. The stranger made an odd cooing noise and bent down to the dog.

  “I…I…I’m...ummm,” Elise stammered, unsure of what to say. The stranger looked up from Chase and motioned them in, turning back the way he’d come. Elise got to her feet and followed the dog and stranger inside.

  They were led into another rock chamber. This one had little tables carved into the walls with torches affixed on top. They provided the pale light Elise had seen streaming through the holes in the door. Her mouth hung open as she inspected the room. On the floor were pelts from animals she had never seen before. They laid haphazardly on top of one another creating a rug, ranging from mundane grays to vibrant reds, golds, and blues.

  Next to the pelts was another table like the one she had seen in the moss-illuminated room. The base was slightly thicker to compensate for the wider top. It reminded Elise of a living room table. On top of it sat a crudely constructed wooden cylinder which held the remains of a stew. A few chunks of meat, vegetables, and liquid remained in the bowl. She wondered if they had interrupted their host during dinner and felt guilty.

  She watched as Chase curled up on the furs and decided to take a seat next to him. Elise hadn’t realized their host had left the room until he returned, holding a wooden slab with some items on top of it. Elise paid no attention to it when she got the whole view of the creature whose home they had entered. On his face was one large eye. The pupil took up most of the space, with an intensely bright orange iris surrounding it. She could barely see any white at all. His nose was bulbous, spanning from one side of his cylindrical face to the other. Protruding from the top of his mouth were two enormous canine teeth that looked sharp enough to cut through rope with one bite. His ears stuck out from the side of his head and then flopped down, like Chase’s. What she had first taken as a fur coat was instead long, shaggy silver fur that shimmered in the torch light. It covered nearly all his body, with sporadic patches of light pink flesh poking through.

  He widened his mouth into a large smile that spread from the edge of one nostril to the other, showing off teeth that were surprisingly human looking. At least, if she didn’t include the sharp eye teeth. Elise should be terrified, but one word permeated her mind. Troggle, she thought. I know this. I’ve seen this before. And she had. They were prominent characters on her Monoflufee cartoon, causing mischief wherever they went. They were not evil creatures, but they often got into trouble due to their curiosity. This one was scarier looking than its cartoon counterparts, and its coloring was drastically different. Even so, she recognized him immediately.

  She stood up and walked to him, Chase at her side. The troggle held out the wooden platter to her as she approached. She was surprised to see she was a few inches taller than him. The platter held four more rounded wooden bowls. Two contained a clear liquid she assumed was water, one had interesting fruits she didn’t recognize, and the last one was filled with meat. She took the tray and said, “Thank you.” The troggle nodded enthusiastically to her and led them back to the table. She placed the tray down and asked, “What kind of meat is this?”

  The troggle looked confused for a moment and then made a frustrated “aarrrr----ooooooonnn” type sound. She realized he couldn’t understand her question. Elise wasn’t quite sure how to communicate. She pointed at the meat and raised her shoulders in a questioning way. The troggle smiled, seeming to understand. He shuffled over to a wall and pulled out a stick. He sat down cross-legged on the floor and drew a pig-like shape in the dirt that littered the ground.

  “Great! Thank you.” Elise patted his shoulder gently to show she understood. He grinned at her and then indicated the food with a finger. The meat had been cooked recently; it was still warm and had charred marks from a fire. She only took a couple of pieces of the meat and gave the rest to Chase, along with one of the bowls of water. The dog scarfed it down and drained the water in seconds. Elise started working on her own food. It didn’t have a strong flavor but wasn’t unpleasant. She was much more excited about the fruit. It had a very exotic flavor similar to pineapple with a slightly sour after taste.

  The troggle moved back to his bowl of stew and gulped down the remaining bites. He then sat and watched Elise as she worked on her food. “Aaaaarrrrr----oooooooonnn?” he trilled, in a questioning tone.

  “It’s delicious,” Elise said, giving him one of her biggest smiles. She rubbed her stomach and made an, “mmmmmm” noise. The troggle imitated the sound and then huffed air in and out. It sounded like laughter to Elise. She giggled in response. She couldn’t believe she was in an underground cave home with a troggle. It was as if she had been sucked into a Monoflufee episode. It was more than she could have ever asked for.

  They sat and pantomimed to one another for quite a while. The troggle was enjoying showing her his little treasures. Pieces of shells, brightly colored feathers, round beads, on and on. Elise showed him enthusiasm for each item, and he would hoot and clap his hands together then retrieve something else. Occasionally he would try to imitate the noises she made, and she found herself trying to mimic his grunts and “aaaaarrrrr----oooonnnnn”s. He clapped at her attempts and made his huffing laughs. Chase kept his head on Elise’s leg for most of the exchanges, occasionally lifting it for a pat from the troggle.

  After a while Elise was hit with fatigue. She stretched her arms above her head and yawned loudly. The troggle yawned in response. He grabbed her hand and motioned for her. She and the dog followed him into one of the doors leading off from the chamber. Within was a bedroom with more furs scattered about. He indicated the furs and brought his hands up to the side of his head, closing his one large eye. He opened it again and looked at her.

  “Thank you, Aroon.” Elise opened her arms and pulled him into a hug.

  The creature seemed confused for a moment but then wrapped his arms around her.

  “Good night.” She went to lie down.

  “Gooooo Iiiiiii,” Aroon replied and shut the door.

  Elise snuggled up with Chase and fell asleep within minutes.

  Chapter Eight

  Henry

  The night before had seemed to last a lifetime. Henry lay in the hotel bed, staring at his phone. He was waiting for something, someone to give him hope that his child and wife were alive. If it had been up to him, he would be out searching. The police hadn’t given him any logical explanation as to what may have happened to his family between the time the voicemail had been left and when he had returned home in a nausea-inducing panic. He still couldn’t completely remember the drive home. It was all a blur.

  After he heard his daughter’s terrified cry on the voicemail, he had jumped into his car and sped away from the bar. At one-point flashing blue and red light filled his rearview mirror, but he chose to ignore them, needing to get to Elise as quickly as he could. As soon as he pulled into his driveway, he jumped out of his car intending to race into the house. He didn’t register the deep, authoritative voice directing him to get down. Just as he held his hand out to open the front door, he was forcefully knocked to the ground by a man in a blue uniform. All the air was ejected from his lungs as the police officer roughly pulled both of his arms behind his back.

  “You’re coming with us, asshole!” shouted the man who had bound Henry’s wrists.

/>   “Wait,” Henry tried to shout. It came out like more of a pained whisper as he fought to regain his breath. “Must… save them… daughter… inside….” He got the words out between ragged breaths. Coughing forcefully, he feared for a moment he would pass out before he could get the officer to understand.

  “Shut the hell up,” the officer replied as he pulled Henry to his feet and aimed him toward the squad car.

  “Wait, Mick,” another officer out of sight said. He stepped in front of Henry, his tall, lanky body forcing Henry to look up to see his face. “Did you say something about someone in danger inside?”

  Henry’s breath evened out, and he said in a panicked voice, “My wife and daughter. They’re in trouble. Please help them.”

  “Throw him in the back of the squad car and let’s check it out,” Officer Lanky said to Officer Mick. Mick agreed and threw Henry unceremoniously into the back of the car. He watched as they entered the house through the unlocked front door. Caitlin was notorious for leaving it unlocked after she got home, even with everything that had happened. He always told her to at least lock the bottom lock. Their dog was terrible at alerting them to people outside of the house until they knocked. Half the time he wouldn’t even check to see who was entering if they didn’t knock.

  Henry waited for a very long time, agonizing over what could have happened. Two additional squad cars pulled up, and police officers began exiting the vehicles. Not long after that he saw a news van stop short down the street. A professionally-dressed Korean woman stepped out of the van followed by a man holding a large camera. Henry ignored them for the most part, having gotten used to seeing news crews during the trial. Due to Arthur’s wealth the trial had been a media circus. Henry and his family had done their best to stay away from them. Even so, he and his wife had to make a few appearances on the news. All of that finally died down just a couple weeks ago.

  Finally, after what had seemed like hours, officers Lanky and Mick exited his home. They conferred for a few minutes with the other police officers who then dispersed and set up a perimeter. Officer Lanky made his way to the car and opened the back door. “Sir, I’m going to ask you to exit the car for me. I’ll unbind your hands, but you have to promise me you won’t do anything rash.”

  “Yes, yes,” Henry agreed, stepping out onto the sidewalk. As the officer unbound his wrists, Henry asked, “Did you find them? Are they okay? What happened?”

  “Sir, I need you to slow down for a moment. My name is Officer Jack Clemmens. Can you tell me your name?”

  “Henry… Henry Kowalski. Please just tell me if they’re okay.”

  “Mr. Kowalski, we didn’t find anyone inside of the house. There does appear to have been some sort of a struggle. Can you tell me where you were this evening and what alerted you to trouble at your home?”

  Henry’s head was swimming. He was irritated by the man’s calm demeanor. Something had happened to his family, and this jerk wanted to have a rational conversation. “I have to get inside. I have to see.” Henry took a step forward, but Officer Clemmens blocked his path.

  “Mr. Kowalski, this will go much more smoothly if you just cooperate. If not, we will be forced to take you down to the station.”

  As the officer spoke, Detective Stathem walked up. Henry had gotten to know him well during the investigation into the incident. The detective had his long-sleeved, button up shirt tucked precisely into a pair of black dress pants. Over the top of his shirt a shoulder holster held two weapons, one on each side. His blonde hair was slightly longer than how most detectives wore it, curling around his ears. Henry calmed slightly at the sight of him.

  “Clemmens.”

  The officer turned to see who had acknowledged him.

  “Go start canvasing potential witnesses. I’ll have a talk with Mr. Kowalski.”

  “Yes, sir.” Officer Clemmens walked toward the quickly growing crowd forming just beyond the police perimeter.

  “Hey there, Henry,” the detective said, focusing all his attention on the distraught man.

  “Detective,” Henry said back. Detective Stathem had worked tirelessly to collect the evidence against Arthur that ultimately got him the jail time he may have otherwise avoided. Henry had formed a close bond with the man and felt comforted he was here. Because of this, he was able to calm himself down enough to think rationally.

  “Henry, can you give me an idea about what has been going on? One of the officers who entered the house already gave me a quick rundown of what he saw inside, but I need to know what alerted you to a problem.”

  Henry took a moment to collect his thoughts. “I was out with a coworker getting drinks and food. She called me, Richard, while I was sitting there talking about nonsense. She called me, and I ignored the call. I thought it was Caitlin. We’d been arguing, and I didn’t want to deal with it, so I ignored her. I just ignored her.” His chest constricted thinking about his child’s screams.

  “Okay, Henry, I need you to be more specific. Who called you? Was it Elise?”

  “Elle, yes. She was screaming, and I couldn’t do anything for her. I tried to get here, but they said she’s gone. They’re both gone. Where are they Richard? Where?” He grabbed the detective’s arm with force, imploring him to provide some answers, any answers.

  “That’s what I’m here to determine. Henry, I’m going to have one of my men take you back to the station, so we can talk in more detail. I’ll follow behind as soon as I can. Is there anyone we can call for you?”

  Henry wasn’t really paying attention to Detective Stathem, his mind on what the officer had told him. “I have to go inside. He said there was a struggle. I have to see.”

  “I can’t let you do that at this time, Henry. Please let Officer Clemmens escort you to the station. I promise I’ll give you a full update when I have more information. Now, who should we call for you?”

  Henry wasn’t satisfied with that answer but there was no use in arguing. His body slumped in defeat. He could think of no one to call. His sister was living in Chicago, and though he had some good friends, he couldn’t imagine asking any one of them to sit with him. His parents wouldn’t be any help down in Florida… Parents. “Oh God, I have to call Caitlin’s parents. They need to know.” The thought of speaking with them tied his stomach in knots. One terrible thing had already happened to their daughter. They would never forgive him for this.

  “I’ll have one of our men get in contact with them,” Detective Stathem said, reassuringly. “You just head out with Officer Clemmens, and we will talk again soon.”

  Henry turned toward the cruiser and entered the passenger’s side door. Just as he was shutting it, the young reporter woman called out to the detective. He chose not to listen to the exchange, which was extremely brief. He assumed Richard was telling her no comment. Clemmens entered the car several minutes later, and they were off to the police station.

  *

  Henry sipped slowly on a bitter, unpleasant cup of coffee provided to him in a small Styrofoam cup. It had been well over an hour since he was ushered away from his home, and he was feeling anxious. He sat in an uncomfortable beat-up chair, the orange vinyl covering lifting in one corner to expose the padding underneath. His hands were free and his legs unbound, but he felt like he was being kept as a prisoner. More than anything, he wanted to be out searching for his daughter and his wife. His mind bounced from one irrational scenario to another. Had Arthur escaped from prison? Was it that Dave character coming for revenge? Had someone in their circle kidnapped his wife and child on their orders? Was it a home invasion gone wrong by a complete stranger?

  On more than one occasion he asked one of the officers at the station to provide him with more details, but each time he was shot down. They told him to be patient; the detective would be here soon to explain. But the detective was not there soon. He was taking his own damn sweet time. At one point, about thirty minutes after his arrival, Caitlin’s parents entered the station. Her mother, Lisa, came to him and kis
sed him on the cheek. Her eyes were red and her nose puffy. All the color had drained from her face. She asked him what he knew, and he gave her all the information he had. He downplayed the voicemail he had received, knowing it would only hurt her to know how terrified her granddaughter had sounded. She hugged him tightly and cried silently into his shoulder. It was all he could do not to break down with her.

  Caitlin’s father, Alexander Baxter, stayed several feet away during the exchange. He was close enough to hear everything that was said but remained utterly silent. Alexander always made Henry nervous. He had been a big wig at a soil remediation company and had opted for early retirement when the opportunity had presented itself. In his mid-sixties, Alexander was the epitome of health. He regularly hiked and biked, entering competitions throughout the year in long distance marathons. He and his buddies played racquetball three times a week. They said it was just for fun, but Henry had gone a few times and those men were ruthless. Henry feared being injured so irrevocably by a run-away ball that he found excuses not to go enough times he was no longer invited.

  Caitlin used to tease him mercilessly about being afraid of a few old men with sticks and balls. “You just don’t understand,” he had said to her, “Those men are out for blood, and mine is the freshest.” She laughed heartily and continued to tease until he was laughing with her.

  Caitlin had a special bond with her father. He started taking her out at a young age to climb mountains and traverse river-filled canyons. He was gentle with her, as well as Elise, and they both adored him. Henry had no doubt about the man’s devotion to his child and grandchild, but he had always gotten the feeling that Alexander did not particularly like him. He wondered if his father-in-law blamed him for derailing Caitlin’s education. He’d already been working as a nurse at the rheumatology clinic when he and Caitlin started seeing each other. She was somewhat of a party animal when she was younger but had kept it well under wraps when it came to her parents. She had not been planning on going to college at that point, and when she became pregnant at nineteen, she wouldn’t even consider going to school.