Three hours later as he pondered the fact that he must get in better shape and make some dietary changes as well, he thought: Exercise is fine for fitness, but the meat stayed at all costs; white or red - it stayed.
He pulled on a pair of shorts, slipped on his old tennis shoes, and threw on a red sweat shirt he hadn't worn in years. It'll do, he thought. I only wanna exercise, not impress myself.
The woods at the back of his house was often calling him. He couldn't understand the mysterious nature of its appeal, but he usually obeyed the call. Getting lost wasn't a concern for him despite its vastness. Though he had never fully explored it in all those years, somehow, he thought he knew it like the back of his hand.
Trent ventured out a few yards in, gradually re-familiarizing himself with what it felt like to actually make his body work. After about ten minutes of jogging, he was soaked in sweat and gasping for air. He had to get through the exercise, however, so he increased his speed a little thinking that it would aid his endurance. Though his mind was willing, his body resisted fiercely, so he slowed down again, seeing no sense in having anyone finding him dead in the middle of the woods. He then stopped and took a long breather under a cool tree. The air was fresh and the surroundings, quiet and serene. Birds chirping melodiously in the trees soothed his mind.
Minutes later, he continued along the wooded pathway now feeling more energized. He was proud of himself and could really see himself making it a routine. Then, about a couple hundred yards in from his resting point, he found himself suddenly moving like a turtle, plodding on, barely lifting his legs. He was exhausted to the bone and yearned only to see his starting point again.
Despite his blurred vision from sweat draining down his face and stinging his eyes, he continued the struggle, refusing to allow himself another breather.
Soon his vision completely escaped him and there was nothing but darkness in view, when suddenly, he was implanted into a whole new world. The forest trees were yanked from the ground and circled rapidly in the air. Trent sprung among them, swirling in the middle like a whirlpool. The trees began to gather inward, clustering him with such force that he couldn't breathe. His neck shriveled from the fervent heat and from the rapid conjoining of the trees, he knew that in the spur of a moment, he would helplessly meet his demise. Suddenly, in the nick of time, he was abruptly pulled from among them with such incredible force that he fell to the ground with a hard thump.
Slowly rising to his feet moments later, he looked around. Everything appeared normal until he heard the sound of a loud trumpet. Immediately, he hid behind a clump of bushes and watched a brigade of uniformed officers attack tall, muscular beasts appearing from everywhere. Guns, grenades and fire balls were some of the weapons employed during the long and strenuous battle. All the beasts were massacred, but one of them, in particular, survived the longest - the tallest one with horns and beaming green eyes; the one which Trent instantly recognized as Tarrow.
Suddenly everyone disappeared and Trent found himself jogging again, gasping for air in the exact same spot where he had left off before being blinded by the darkness. Just as it occurred at the party, it was as though time had never stopped and this bizarre incident never took place. Trent fell to the ground, head throbbing wildly as he knew he had been plunged into unfamiliar territory and was unnerved by what he had seen.
Though he desired the full truth of his ancestry, he deeply resented being caught up in the middle of it.
* 2 *
Solange threw on a light-blue sleeveless dress, secured Greg's house and walked outside. The house next door was always well-ventilated - open windows, open doors as was the case that very morning. After mounting the dusty stairs leading to the front porch, Solange knocked lightly on the screen door.
A tall, thin, testy-looking woman appeared moments later.
"Yes, what do you want?" The lady asked from the other side of the screen.
"Good day, ma'am. My name is Liza," Solange started. "I live next door with my friend, Greg Winters. I've been here for almost two months now and have never had the pleasure of meeting you."
The lady stood impatiently, yet silently.
"Well, I just thought I'd come over and introduce myself." A few more moments of silence and Solange was starting to regret ever having left Greg's house.
The woman's frown soon altered to a smile. "Well, it's certainly nice of you to do so, young lady. My name's Dorothy Skillet, but I'd prefer if you'd call me Dorothy." She paused for a moment. "Well, I must admit I don't get this much attention and I certainly don't get out much to see what's going on around here 'cause I'm constantly tending to my elderly Pa." She unlatched the screen door and invited Solange inside. They sat in the living room on opposite sofas.
"I guess you've wondered what type of person I am - not coming over to greet you or anything, Liza, but I try to keep my distance and mind my own business... if you know what I mean." She winked. "Oh, would you like a cup of coffee or tea?"
"No, thanks. I had some just a while ago."
"From your accent I can tell you're not American," Dorothy asserted.
"I am actually, but I was raised in Europe."
"France, is it?"
Pestered, but not suspicious by this woman's nosiness, Solange wavered, "Yes. France."
"So, how's your stay in Miami thus far? Have you known Gregory for a long time?"
"It's great and, yes…I have known Greg for quite a while. We met at an art exhibition in France a few years ago. We both love art." She smiled.
"Interesting," Dorothy started. "I didn't know Gregory ever went to France."
"Oh yes, he did. You mean, he's never told you?" Solange acted surprised.
"No. You see, we're not very close. To tell you the truth, I'm not very close to anyone except my Pa," she said.
Solange looked up at the photographs which clung to the wall. "Is that your family?" She pointed at one in particular.
"That was my family," Dorothy answered sadly. "My brother and Ma are dead. They both died from the same thing…depression. Pa's all I have left. He's eighty-two now and I think he's dying from the same thing too."
Nothing sounded weirder to Solange. She had never heard of an entire family dying from depression before, but from taking a good look at Dorothy, she did seem a little depressed herself. First angry…now depressed. At that moment, she glanced at her watch and eagerly said, "Oh, Dorothy, I must be going now. It has certainly been a pleasure meeting you."
"It's been a pleasure meeting you, Liza," the woman replied pleasantly. As Solange was leaving, Dorothy stopped her and whispered, "You know, Liza, you're the only person 'round here who's cared enough to be my friend. I know if you weren't, you wouldn't have come here, right?"
Solange smiled. "Yes. You're right, Dorothy and I will visit you again sometime."
Solange had meant to ask Dorothy what she knew about Laurie's aunt, but decided not to after learning that Dorothy didn't keep up with the neighborhood's affairs.
* 3 *
Upon seeing her, Trent held Tina closely and kissed her passionately on the lips. His heart ached for her as if they had long been apart - previously ripped from each other's arms.
"Did something happen that I don't know about?" Tina asked lovingly.
"You, my sweet darling, are the reason for my happiness!"
"Come on in!" Tina said, pulling him inside the apartment. "No need to wake the neighbors."
Accompanying him to the couch, she suddenly realized the way she was dressed and the humiliating fact that she hadn't even showered yet for the morning. Painfully embarrassed, she backed away and said, "Trent, there's something quick I gotta do. I'll be just a few minutes, okay?"
"Number two, huh?" He teased with a cunning smirk.
"No, just ladies' stuff." She chuckled, relieved that she didn't have to do number two as well.
Never mind her hurry. Trent was happy to be there. He would wait forever once he knew she would return. She was simply
that special to him.
Tina looked at herself through the bathroom mirror, hating herself for not freshening up earlier. Thankfully, she had already brushed her teeth or she doubt she would have lived down the abashment of not doing so when he kissed her.
She took off her robe, threw on her pink shower-cap and stepped into the tub. The warm water sliding down her body was indescribably celestial. However, through the delight of it all, she knew she must hurry. She must return to the love of her life, the man of her dreams, the reason for her constant joy.
Afterwards, she pulled the curlers out of her hair, threw them into the plugged sink, then wrapped herself in a towel and headed for the bedroom to dress.
A few minutes later, she returned to the living room, startled to find Trent stretched out on the couch, dozing like a tired child. Tina shook her head, thinking that he was so unpredictable that sometimes it really wasn't funny.
"Trent, wake up!" She demanded, shaking him.
He quickly sat up. "What a quick transformation," he commented rubbing his eyes.
"Didn't you get any sleep at all last night? My goodness, it's only seven-thirty in the morning," Tina said, glancing at her watch.
"I'm afraid not. Had a bit of a loose stomach most of the night, but never mind me, I'm fine now. I'm really not that sleepy."
"Well, I must say, you do look remarkably handsome this morning." She edged closer to him on the couch.
"You, too. Gorgeous…I mean." He smiled.
"Had anything in mind, my dear?" She asked, caressing his face and sliding her finger down his hairy chest.
Her touch was so hypnotic, he felt himself losing control. As they kissed, he barely uttered the words: "This is not how I want our first time to be. I want it to be really special—I want to marry you." Tina didn't seem to hear him. She was enraptured by a magical, ineffable, thrilling, unique, erotic sensation that was unmatched with anything else she could think of. Trent struggled intensely with his conscience as his flesh fought to gain full control. And even after the overwhelming feeling had been satiated and departed, he and the woman he loved clung to each other for what seemed like hours, hating to disjoin their intimacy.
Later that day, deliberately avoiding any discussion about what had transpired earlier, Trent and Tina decided to go for a long drive and view scenic areas around town. As they passed along the thoroughfare, the first thing they noticed was a dump truck loaded with hot mix asphalt on the side of the road and several huge trenches they knew some major corporation had left open for some other major corporation to patch up. They did it all the time. Folks out there called it the 'you shovel, I dig, dilemma'. Trent shook his head and in a tone of disgust said: "These guys really got their game down-packed."
During the sight-seeing, he envied the way the wealthy lived - gigantic, beautiful houses, huge walled-in yards, pools, jacuzzis and the like. Yet, in spite of his own personal wealth, he just couldn't leave the old mansion in the woods he had become so attached to since Foster died. Besides, he reasoned that any odd occurrences in the privacy of his own home would remain private there - his seclusion amply protected 'the outside world'. It had to be that way, at least, for the time being.
After heading north, Trent glanced at the car clock which read 2:55p.m. and he felt completely relaxed regardless of the fact that he had committed himself to about an hour and a half of driving. They headed beneath the bridge, then at the turning point would drive west. Within seconds, they found themselves driving amid consummate darkness. Reflexively, Trent flashed on his headlights and was dismayed when they wouldn't work. He could hear the cars behind him and the ones passing by, but he couldn't see any of them. He hoped to God that his failure to see them would not result in a collision. He continued driving; there was nowhere to stop. Then floating beyond his windshield, he clearly saw the sinister face of the Evil One, whispering vile words at him which only he could hear.
"There is no escape for you, no solitude, no salvation weakling! You are a curse - a curse that will soon be no more! I will rid you of your humanity and take you to the slums of hell on my shoulder, then personally feed you to the pit!" He roared.
"Trent, what's happening?!" Tina exclaimed.
Trent fought not to lose control of the vehicle. Moments later, the apparition disappeared and he and Tina could see their way again. The cars brushed by with such speed that it shook the Ford violently against the wind.
"I'm coming for you…" Trent heard Tarrow utter after everything was restored. He looked at Tina hoping she hadn't seen the face of the villain that had threatened to destroy him. He pulled to the side of the road to collect himself.
"What in the world happened back there?!" Tina asked, now relieved and obviously not privy to anything more than the sudden darkness which had enveloped them.
"Don't know. Must have been a blackout," Trent replied.
"In the day?"
"Strange… but whatever it was, there must be some reasonable explanation for it," he said still fairly rattled by the whole experience.
Sitting still, as if two huge curtains had rolled back right in front of him, he saw the role Tarrow had played decades earlier as tribe leader. Trent saw the entire thing vividly in his mind--how his father was overthrown and everything went to shambles, then how Tarrow established his own laws and his species loved him for it. They had broken ties and the laws which were set down by their forefathers and Trent's father felt ignored and betrayed. Humans were then hunted like animals, many of them brutally killed. Trent was able to see his heritage and the fact that he was related to a pack of vicious beasts who could have avoided tragically separating humans from their families and leaving their disappearances for decades later a mystery.
He remembered his father had mentioned 'The Season', but had no idea what it was, what it meant or when it would occur. He knew, however, that it was either rapidly approaching or already there. He also knew it was the reason for his agonizing nightmares.
"I'm still so puzzled about what just happened Trent," Tina said, breaking the silence. "I just can't understand it."
"Don't try to understand it, Tina. If it were meant for us to understand, we would have already."
Trent's reply was stern and abrupt, rather than anything near reassuring. "Maybe they'll explain it over the news tonight. We'll watch it together okay?" He put the car in drive and pulled off.
* 4 *
Solange thought of Laurie constantly. She hadn't seen her in a few days and was worried that something might have happened to her. Though afraid to visit the aunt's house, she knew she must if she were to find out if Laurie was all right.
She stopped what she was doing and headed straightaway for Laurie's house, as always, making sure to secure Greg's while she was gone. She mounted the porch and knocked at the wooden door, then shortly afterwards heard the screech of it slowly opening.
"Yes, Love, what can I do for you?" The old lady pleasantly asked.
"Hi. My name is Liza. I live a few doors away with my friend, Greg Winters. I was wondering if Laurie was here."
"Laurie's sleepin'," the woman replied."
"I was wondering if she is all right because I haven't seen her around for a few days now."
"She's sick with the flu. It's going around this time of year."
"I see. Well, might I see her for just a moment?" Solange indirectly insisted.
"I told you she has the flu. Do you want to catch it?" Laurie's aunt was steadily growing impatient, but she noticed a glare in Solange's eyes which unveiled her distrust of her.
"All right, if you want to come inside, come on in," the woman finally said.
Solange followed her to a room at the rear end of the house. The bedroom was dark and warm, and dolls were lying everywhere. Then she saw Laurie in bed sleeping like a log. She watched her chest for a few seconds and was convinced by its movements that she was definitely alive. Solange breathed a sigh of relief knowing that the creepy old lady hadn't killed her.
> "Thank you kindly for inviting me in," she said. "I haven't a very strong immune system so I'd better go now. Wouldn't want to catch the flu."
The woman followed her out to the porch.
"By the way, what's your name?" Solange asked her.
"Hazel Gooding, and nice meeting you."
"Nice meeting you, Miss Gooding … and thanks again." As Solange walked home, she could feel Hazel's intense stare, but she didn't look back.
* 5 *
While driving over the dusty, tire-trailed road toward his house, Trent noticed that the kitchen light was still on. He parked the car in the middle of the driveway and headed for the front door. After inserting the key inside the door, he discovered that it was unlocked. He had never left his house unsecured before, not even once, and couldn't imagine himself making such a careless mistake that time.
Someone must be inside, he surmised as a scary, spine-tingling feeling enervated him - his heart feeling as if it were slowing and painfully plummeting to the pit of his gut. He turned the knob slowly, pushed the door open, and peeped inside. At a glance, he discovered nothing out of the ordinary. He proceeded further inside, took a more careful look around and when it seemed safe, he closed the door behind him. After throwing his keys on the table, on looking up, he was startled to see his ghastly father standing in a ray of light directly in front of him. Just then, the kitchen light went out and the house stood in consummate darkness, almost as dark as it was under the bridge just an hour earlier.
A sudden jolt of joy filled Trent's heart for right then he thought his questions might be answered. "Father, I'm so glad you're here. I have so many questions to ask you," he started.
"Hush, my son! You must listen to me for I don't have much time. You are in grave danger. The Evil One is on the verge of emerging into your world and his aim is to destroy you in any way possible. You have my strength and the strength of your grandfather inside of you and if you use it properly, you will not be doomed."
Immortals- The Complete Real Illusions Series Page 6
