Tearing The Shroud

by JM Bray

  Wait, that’s not right... It’s an exciting time to be alive.

  A voice, that wasn’t his own seemed to echo in his head,

  His mind had been wandering and he wasn’t sure why. I’m working too much.

 

  ‘No rest for the wicked though,’ he muttered.

 

  Bill looked in his rear-view mirror. There was an elderly man in the back seat.

  The front tire dropped into the dirt along the freeway. He jerked the wheel left to keep from running up the embankment, and shot toward the center lane, nearly clipping the rear of a pickup truck. Trying to correct his course, he turned hard again, and the big car lost traction. He hung on as the vehicle spun uncontrollably down the freeway. After the second rotation the rear wheels caught, miraculously pointing south. He pulled off at the next exit, into a parking lot beside a mini-mart, and shut the Cadillac off. He tried unsuccessfully to stop his lurching stomach. Shoving the door open, he spewed his dinner on the ground. After wiping his mouth with a linen handkerchief, he sat back into the leather seat. He closed his eyes and mumbled, ‘Bill, get hold of yourself.’

 

  He started to turn around.

 

  For some reason he did what the old guy said. He looked in the mirror.

  ‘Who...who are you?’ Bill asked, looking away.

 

  He looked in the mirror but the man was gone. He brought his shaking hands to his head. ‘I must be losing my mind.’

 

  Bill drove carefully home and parked the red DeVille in the garage. The door trundled closed behind him. He staggered into the house and hung the keys in the kitchen. There had to be a way to make it stop.

 

  Trying to ignore the voice, Bill walked into the living room and poured a Scotch. Deanston 12 Year. That’s what he needed, a nice Scottish single malt.

 

  Bill shook his head as if to expel the intrusive voice. He lifted the glass with a trembling hand. In the window, a reflected figure sat on the couch behind him. Maybe if he didn’t look at it, if he just ignored it, the figments would all go away. He looked past it at the lights below, sipping his Scotch. Finally, he braced himself and turned around. The room was empty.

  ‘Get some sleep, Bill.’ He expected a comment, but none was forthcoming. He walked through the large house to the master bath, and set the glass on the sink. Brushing his teeth was an exercise in fear as he expected his visitor to appear in the mirror. Finally, unable to stand the possibility, he turned his back to the sink. Back in the bedroom, he stripped to his boxers and t-shirt then slid into bed. Sleep came instantly.

  Lying on his side in the darkness, he opened his eyes. The man was in the bed, on his side, their faces less than a foot apart. ‘I’m dreaming. That’s it,’ he said softly.

 

  ‘Why...are you here?’

 

  ‘I didn’t. I don’t remember...anything.’

 

  Bill struggled to think back; it wasn’t that long. Why couldn’t he remember? Nothing was clear. He’d spent his childhood...where? A scene flickered: a tall house, set in the woods. That’s it, he’d lived in —

 

  He nodded.

 

  They spoke the words in unison: ‘I’d give anything for real excitement.’

  Success.

  Thrills.

  Power.

 

  The memories flooded back: blood in a bathtub; a woman with a knife at her throat, being raped; money-jewelry-gold; the pop of a bullet entering a forehead; houses, land...

  ‘I did that? Those things...I…?’

 

  ‘But I...my business.’

 

  ‘I never…that wasn’t — ’

 

  Bill closed his eyes.

  Justus opened his eyes.

  Rolling to his feet, he stood beside the bed. It was always a wonder, the powerful vigor of youth. Had he felt this way as a younger man? Not that he could remember. He walked to the closet, slipped into a pair of pants then headed down the hall, away from the center of the ranch home. Just outside the exercise room he placed his hands on the wall, running them in an arc to either side and down to the floor. A nimbus of sickly yellow-green light glowed momentarily where he touched the plaster and an opening appeared. He stepped through and down a set of stairs. The big room below contained rows of orderly shelves. Weapons, containers of jewelry, small ingots of gold, hermetically sealed boxes of cash, and more were neatly on them. Fireproof file cabinets contained the copies of deeds JCorp owned. They also held the original printed stock shares showing his control of the corporation. He hated to leave this, but it was time. This experiment had run its course, and his control was slipping as ‘Bill’ struggled against him.

  He sighed. Justus had hoped it would last longer. It wasn’t a complete loss; now he knew what he needed to change in the future.

  He looked around the room before leaving. A bright future indeed.

  Going Home

  The Coronado Bridge arced and curved gracefully over the waters of the harbor, its supports inverted white V’s of graduating heights. The blue girders that formed the roadbed sat upon them. The color was perfect; it gave the appearance that the bridge reflected the water. Boats flitted across the bay, their sails small triangles of white in the distance. He looked up at the small blue sign hanging from the light post.

  Suicide Counseling

  Crisis Team 24 Hours

  There was a phone number at the bottom. That’s was good to know, but he didn’t believe he would require their services today.

  A police cruiser came to a halt behind him. An officer got out, slowly walked around the front of the unit, and strolled toward him, stopping about thirty feet away.

  ‘How are you doing today sir? I’m Kevin. Would you mind stepping over here so we can speak for a moment?’

  He smiled. ‘No, I’m fine where I am.’ He really was. Such an amazing view.

  ‘I’d appreciate it if you could. I’m scared of heights, and it sure would make me more comfortable.’ He took two steps forward. ‘Like I said, my name’s Kevin. What’s yours?’

  ‘That’s not important.’

  ‘Okay, if that’s what you want. Would you like some water? I have some in the car.’

  He shook his head and looked at the bay. ‘I’ll have all the water I need shortly.’

  The officer paused. ‘Hey, I have a gentleman with me. He’s a police chaplain. Would you mind if he joined us?’

  He laughed. ‘How appropriate, a man of the cloth. Of course...he’s precisely the person for such a moment.’

  The man eased out of the car and walked to the policeman’s side.

  ‘Forgive
me, father. I know not what I do,’ he yelled and then convulsed as something tore through his mind with a lance of searing pain.

  ‘It’s Bill...I think it is, at least,’ he said.

  Justus wrested back control, shoving Bill into the corner of his mind where he kept him chained.

  ‘Bill? Good to meet you, Bill,’ the officer said. ‘This is Tom.’

  ‘A pleasure to meet you Kevin, Tom. I wish it were under better circumstances. But these things happen.’

  Tom smiled and replied, ‘It’s okay Bill. We all have tough days. Why don’t we chat about what’s bothering you? Maybe we can find some solutions.’

  Bill snapped the mental chains. ‘I don’t...want to.’ He grimaced and his eyes darted rapidly.

  ‘It really would be best,’ Kevin said.

  ‘Jump...I...don’t want...to,’ Bill said, through gritted teeth. Sweat beaded his forehead.

  The officer’s shoulders dropped. ‘Good, Tom and I don’t want you to, either.’

  Justus imagined a metal box that sprouted around Bill’s thoughts. ‘Bill isn’t in charge,’ he said. He smiled and nodded at Tom. ‘You know how these things are. Don’t you, Tom?’

  A blinding white light exploded behind Justus’ eyes. ‘Wait, no...I didn’t mean to...it wasn’t what I...’ Bill said as Justus jerked Bill’s body onto the rail, his movements like a marionette with twisted strings.

  Tom started forward.

  ‘Bill, stop. Step down,’ Kevin commanded as he ran.

  ‘I...have to...’ his body went stiff and he fell slowly, his arms rigid at his sides. As he toppled Justus saw Tom’s fingers brush his foot. He cackled in Bill’s mind as Bill screamed, ‘No...’ and the world flipped end over end.

  Chapter 12

  Another Awakening

  Eight Years in the Past

  Callendel

  Justus opened his eyes slightly. Morning light crept in around the heavy curtains, but the room remained comfortably darkened. He let his eyes adjust to it and looked to the left of his bed, away from the window. True to form, Laurence waited to attend him.

  He stood near a table by the wall, hands clasped behind his back. Two bowls, probably containing warm and cool water, a stack of soft towels; a glass of water, and a tea service filled the tabletop.

  Justus brought his hands up to his face and rubbed his eyes. His cheeks were smooth, no need for a shave. He felt invigorated, refreshed, and well rested. He sat up slowly and Laurence stepped forward silently to place pillows behind him so that he could be comfortable while having his tea.

  ‘Hello, Laurence,’ he said.

  ‘Sire,’ Laurence replied. Then he retrieved the glass of water from the table.

  ‘Ah, as always, you anticipate me.’ Justus brought the glass to his lips and drank it down, relishing every drop. ‘I think the cool water and warm towel will be nice.’

  Laurence took the glass and gathered the requested items. He held the bowl for Justus as his master washed the sleep from his eyes then offered the towel hanging over his arm. ‘Shall I pour, Sire?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Laurence knew how he preferred his tea and it was perfect, as usual. Justus sighed contentedly. When the cup was half empty, he said, ‘I believe it’s time to greet the day.’

  Laurence glided to the window, drawing back the heavy curtains. Golden sunlight streamed in through the diamond-shaped panes of glass. Justus held his tea out for Laurence to take — swinging his legs around, he stood. Retrieving the tea, he stepped to the windows. It was a beautiful day, the garden was in bloom, and the trees swayed in a gentle breeze.

  ‘Sire, do you have need of the chamber pot?’

  ‘No, Laurence, I am fine.’ He finished the last of his tea.

  “What would you prefer to wear, Sire?”

  ‘My dark blue suit, I believe.’

  The servant nodded and retreated. Within a minute, he returned with the requested suit, along with underclothes, stockings, and a light shirt. Justus pulled the nightshirt off and donned his attire, while Laurence handed him each item in turn. Afterward, he slipped on his house shoes.

  ‘Let’s see what kind of a figure I strike.’

  Laurence moved the full-length mirror into the center of the room and positioned it so that it took full advantage of the sunlight, giving Justus the perfect opportunity to view himself. He checked his profiles then extended his hand. Laurence placed the handle of a small mirror in it so that he could inspect his back. Satisfied, he gave it to Laurence and stepped closer to the large one for a better look. As he did, he noticed Laurence behind him, standing patiently.

  ‘Laurence, you look older.’

  ‘Yes, Sire, I do indeed.’

  ‘And me. Have I aged much?’ he asked. ‘I need your honesty, not your flattery.’

  Laurence stepped to him, looking carefully. He nodded as Justus watched in the mirror. ‘Sire, your rest has treated you well. If I may say so, while I look a bit older, you seem younger.’

  ‘Do you really think so?’ Justus asked him as he continued to look in the mirror.

  ‘Indeed.’

  ‘Wonderful.’ He smiled at his reflection. ‘I feel as if I am.’

  ‘Do you happen to know how long I rested?’ He raised an eyebrow as he faced the servant.

  ‘I made careful note, Sire.’ He retrieved a small leather journal from his vest pocket. ‘Three years, four cycles, six days and,’ he looked at the timepiece in the large cabinet, ‘eight hours.’

  Justus smiled. ‘Marvelous.’

  Success

  ‘Pae, join me,’ Justus said after a hearty breakfast.

  The parrot whistled and bobbed its head.

  Justus continued, ‘This experiment has yielded some fine results, very fine. I had hoped for better progress in some areas, but found unexpected benefits in others. Shall I explain?’

  ‘Aw,’ Pae said from his shoulder.

  ‘Grand. It’s good to see you are as excited as I am. First, let’s examine the... How shall I put it? Failures. I hesitate to use the word at all due to the wondrous gains we have made, but there it is. Perhaps setbacks?

  ‘The man who agreed to be my host was not as willing as he first indicated. True, he did let me in, but after an initial period of adjustment, I expected more consistent control over his actions and thoughts. That, unfortunately, was not the case. What resulted were fits of madness where neither of us was in charge. When this occurred, it seemed that something else entirely, took over. Granted, the results were astounding at times. Shall I elaborate?’

  ‘Mmm.’ Pae nodded.

  ‘In those chaotic moments, we were able to do unusually powerful things. Feats of strength, perception and the like that would be impossible for either of us alone. As you are well aware, I have no desire to share my existence with anyone, so pursuing that path is out of the question.’

  Pae beat his wings briefly and made a chirping sound.

  ‘I’m glad you understand such things. My intent all along was to view the event as temporary, but I believed it would last longer. Enough of the negative; let’s look at all we learned.’ Justus entered the laboratory. Every shelf of items was exactly as he left it. Everything was spotless. The circle of summoning was intact, with the cushions he had lain upon during the ceremony still near it. The process had consumed the substance that had filled the channels in the floor. He paused at the entrance, enjoying the scene. ‘I really must give Laurence a raise. Do remind me of it, Pae.’

  ‘Peep.’

  ‘So, what did we learn? Most importantly, the fact that it is possible and therefore repeatable. It’s a strange world, with items and machines beyond imagination. However, it does indeed have many similarities to our own.’

  Pae flew from his shoulder, landed on a perch, and screeched.

  Justus strolled around the room, reacquainting himself while he spoke, ‘Yes, I mean exactly that. The buildings, machines, weapons, even their methods of communication, are different, but th
e land it is made of, the features of the world, are exactly the same as ours.’

  ‘Yaw.’ Pae shook his head rapidly.

  ‘No, I have not lost my mind. That world is our world, but filled with different things. I know,’ he shook his hands at the bird, ‘I would not have imagined it had I not been there. I even purchased a home, exactly where this one sits.’ He laughed heartily. ‘Which reminds me; I bought many properties and amassed a small fortune. In that land, as in ours, a Lord can hold title to many diverse places. He isn’t called a Lord, but be sure, the lands I hold deed to would put many of them here to shame.’

  ‘Mmm, haw.’

  ‘Yes, they are in good hands; I formed a business consortium of sorts that oversees it all and left the ownership to myself.’

  ‘Coo.’

  ‘That?’ He shook his head dismissively. ‘Gaining a new identity there is a simple matter. I left codes with men of the law to assure I could regain my holdings, whatever face I wore.’

  ‘Eep.’

  ‘Yes.’ He smiled. ‘Clever, aren’t I? Travel was a bit daunting at first. They have metal carriages called cars. With a bit of coercion and time, my host taught me to operate them. Now, let’s move to the exciting topic. The most significant finding.’ He waved Pae to his shoulder once more and they exited the laboratory. They climbed two flights of stairs, coming finally to a lesser-used portion of the mansion.

  They entered a small closet, and Justus opened a hidden panel in the back. He depressed a pressure plate and the wall pivoted open. Justus ignited a lantern and its soft yellow glow illuminated the room beyond, revealing a large bed centered along one wall. ‘I don’t know why I agreed to the nonsense of this hidden chamber.’

  Pae barely moved as they approached the bed. In the semi-darkness, they saw a form under the covers. He set the lamp on a table near it.

  ‘This is the old you, Pae.’ They peered at Patres, lying in the bed. ‘Note how you have not aged a moment since the transference, nor does your body need sustenance. You don’t even get sores like most that are abed for long periods of time.’

  Pae hopped from his shoulder, landing on the bed, and leaned in looking at the figure of the old man. Then he turned toward Justus; tilting his head to the left, he raised one foot, squawked, whistled, and hummed.