"Uncle C? Hello?! "
Still, he just and gazed, seemingly completely oblivious to Charlotte's presence. She felt surprised at herself when she meant to call out quietly again, but her emotions seemed to raise the tone of her voice to a near shout, "Clarence!"
Finally, his eyes slowly fell from the cross on the wall as his head slowly tuned and faced Charlotte, but it seemed as if he was looking through her rather than at her.
Charlotte felt a horrible chill run up her spine, which seemed to cause a chain reaction as it reached her head, causing the hair on the back of her neck to stand stiff while sending a rush of goose bumps down both her arms. She didn't know why but she was suddenly very afraid of the entire situation, and not just the kind fear she felt from seeing her dear Uncle C. in a state like this, but something more instinctual, primal even.
She did her best to just shake this strange, unwelcome feeling off. While it was right for her to be concerned that a sweet old man she had literally known her entire life was experiencing some sort of terrible episode, she should be scared for him, not of him.
Oh God, it's Alzheimer’s…or worse! She thought, feeling as though turning her worries back toward her Uncle C. gave her a slight relief from that odd, anxious, fear.
Still he just sat there, looking in her direction but making no attempt at eye contact or conversation.
And he looked absolutely terrible. His boots and overalls were almost completely covered in dirt and his face had lost that summertime tan he always had this time of year. His eyes were bloodshot, like he hadn't blinked in hours, and there was a dried, greenish-grey crust caked to the pits of his eyes.
"Uncle C? What's the matter? Do we need to call Dr. Caldwell? You don't look well at all and you're really starting to scare me. Now God-damn it, I'll drag your ass to the hospital right this minute if you don't tell me what’s wrong with..."
His eyes suddenly locked on hers, they were without a doubt the saddest eyes she had ever seen. His mouth twitched a couple times as if he had developed some sort of tic. Then in a low and garbled voice that seemed to take an extreme effort on his part to get out, he said, “Where are the children?”
"They're with their parents, they'll be here tomorrow." She replied, feeling caught terribly off guard, in a split second he had gone from completely unresponsive to staring her down. "Hey, I'm glad you want to see the kids and all but you are really freaking me out here, what in the hell is wrong, Uncle C.? Are you sick or..."
"Yes, sick I am...who are..." his sentence faded into a low mumble and then ended in a low, guttural noise that sounded something like, "grug...grrraahhllk." His neck seemed to violently constrict and then suddenly pulsate outward before quickly tightening again. He let out a high pitched whine that sounded more like a young pig being slaughtered then anything a human being would make, and then he vomited violently onto the floor. He looked back up at Charlotte, with a pool of strange grayish, black vomit at his feet as well as dripping down his chin and down the front of his overalls.
She stood there shaking, her nerves rattled from a cross between that strange, primal fear she'd been struck with, and deep concern for a very dear friend.
"Uncle..." she struggled to get the words out, "Uncle C., are you going to be okay?"
"I think I ought to clean myself up, Charlotte," his voice now had a strange monotone quality, like every word was forced out but contained no emotion, "I think I may have come down with something."
"Yeah, looks like it. Well I'm going to let you clean up and maybe you should just get some rest. If you're still throwing up by this evening then I say we take you into the doctor, okay?"
"Jenny found Jesus,” His gaze returned to the crucifix.
"Yes, I know she was quite religious, but I aint gonna lie, Uncle C. You're not making a whole lot of sense, and that coupled with the fact you just puked all over yourself makes me think two things," Charlotte said as she covered her nose and mouth to fend off the vile stench of vomit permeating the room, "One, you got yourself some kind fever or food poisoning. Two, I need to get the hell out of here before there's two piles of puke in your living room! No offense, but this is pretty gross and you need to clean yourself up."
"The children need to go see Jesus," he replied, flatly.
Charlotte was alarmed at his odd behavior, it had to be the grief eating away at him, and he had never been the preachy type before. In fact, she was pretty sure he was more or less agnostic, but Jenny was devout and that would explain his behavior to some point. Poor, old Uncle C. was out here all alone and he was probably just trying to hold on to every piece of Jenny he could cling to nowadays.
"You just go on and get yourself cleaned up, “she said as calmly as she could, "then you get to rest and try to let this bug you've come down with work its way out of your system, okay?"
"Gotta take me a shower...dirty...need clean clothes to meet the children" Clarence mumbled as he shuffled his way slowly into the bathroom. He began undressing without closing the bathroom door. Charlotte shielded her eyes and turned away, toward the front door.
"Uncle C! You might want to try closing the door before you drop trou there!" She laughed it off but was thoroughly disturbed by the sudden lack of modesty, not so much that had to see the old man undressing for a split second, but because it was another sudden sign that her Uncle Clarence, whom for as long as she could remember had always been one of the strongest people she'd ever known, both physically and mentally, was now falling into what could only be described as dementia of some sort. He was up there in years but eighty-six was too young for him to be this far gone when he had been the ideal health for a man his age for so long.
"I'll be down in a little while to check up on you," she called back to him as she walked out on to the porch and let the screen swing shut behind her, "If you're still sick by tomorrow you just be careful to not pass anything on to the kids."
~
As soon as she made her way back up to the ranch house, Charlotte fetched her cell phone from its charger in her Range Rover and dialed her late brother Stephen's widow, Carla. She reached her sister in law’s voicemail.
"Hey there Carla, it's Charlotte," she said into her phone when the voicemail beeped her through to the inbox, “I'm out here at the ranch and I just went down to Uncle C.'s and…well I'm just worried sick about him. He's not feeling well at all, and I...I just really think it's time we see about getting him some help for the day to day stuff out here. Anyway, just give me a call if you get a chance and we'll talk more. I can't wait to see you and the rest of the family this weekend! Love ya, bye."
"Time for that nice, warm bath I promised myself,” Charlotte said into the huge, empty house as she made her way upstairs toward the master bathroom. Her concern for Clarence had made it very difficult for her to take advantage of the peace and quiet that she had come here seeking in the first place. Tomorrow night her nephew, Dennis, would be showing up with his wife, Paula, and their eight year old daughter, Elizabeth. Carla, Dennis' mother, would most likely arrive with them since she rarely liked to drive and lived fairly close to Dennis and Paula over in Bothell, a blossoming suburb of Seattle, on the other side of the mountains.
Her other nephew, Charlie, was going to be there early afternoon tomorrow with his two little minions, Alyssa and Bradley. Alyssa was eleven and Bradley was nine, so being the eldest, Alyssa would most likely lead the charge as the trio of the youngest generation of Henderson’s waged their fierce campaign of mischief and mayhem throughout the now silent house. Since there really wasn’t anything else she could do for her Clarence right now, she figured it best to get some relaxation in while she could. Unfortunately, that was proving itself to be easier said than done.
As she watched the Jacuzzi tub fill with its warm, soothing water her thoughts kept drifting back to what she had just witnessed down in Clarence's living room. His vacant stare as he just focused on that crucifix above Jenny's picture, seemingly oblivious to her presence as she
stood right there calling to him, and the way he made those strange sounds before he purged that disgusting, greyish-black ooze from his insides.
What on Earth could have possibly made him so sick?
A sudden wave of guilt flooded over Charlotte as she realized that she had acted horribly selfish by brushing off Clarence's condition so easily, telling him to just take a shower and get some rest. Christ! He needs a damn doctor, not just rest! She thought as she reached for cell phone. She didn't have Dr. Caldwell's phone number in her list of contacts in her smart phone so she opened her web browser and looked up his practice through the search engine. She knew that house calls were not the norm for physicians these days, but Dr. Caldwell and Clarence had been friends for many years and she was sure he'd make an exception in this case after she explained the situation. She found his office listed in the local business review pages and copied and pasted the office phone number then dialed it. It rang six times before the automated message clicked on saying the office was closed for the night and would be open again at 8:00am tomorrow morning, and that if this was an emergency to dial 911 right away.
Charlotte decided there was nothing to be done until tomorrow morning. It was already almost 9:00pm, she should have realized the doctor's office would be closed by now and it didn’t seem right to call 911 just to say that a senior citizen was acting oddly and had a stomach bug. She put her cell phone back on the wall charger she had hooked up to the outlet above the bathroom counter. She was weary of the steam from the hot bath that was now filled shorting out the smart phone, but she also wanted to make sure the phone was in earshot just in case Carla returned her call.
She undressed and slowly stepped into the large bath tub. The water was steaming hot so she had to slowly inch her way in, one leg at a time and then slowly lower the rest of herself down. Once she was in the tub the water seemed to work its magic immediately. She felt most of the stress of the day melt away as she finally let herself relax, her arms floating weightlessly in the now perfectly hot water. Just as she was about to close her eyes and let her mind wind itself down like her body had done in the soothing warmth of the tub, two thoughts shattered that fragile peace she was so close to achieving. The first thought was of the horrible sight of watching Clarence heave like that, his neck looked like it was pulsating, and the disgusting greyish-black sludge he had tossed up all over himself and on the floor! It sure hadn't looked like any type of vomit she had ever seen, it looked more like crude oil, thick and slimy but not chunky like typical thrown-up stomach contents.
Could it be a virus? Some sort of poison? What if there was some sort of dangerous contamination somewhere on the ranch? What if it could harm the rest of them?
The second thought was the one that really bothered her the most, that for some reason she could not shake off even though at the time it hadn't struck her as anything threatening at all. Now, thinking of it sent a chill straight through her core, even in the hot water she once again felt goose bumps creep up her arms and a tingle raise the hairs on the back of her neck. She was reminded of that odd, fearful feeling that had crept over her down at Clarence's house, only this time it felt more real, more dangerous. The first thing Clarence had said to her when he finally acknowledged her presence and met her eyes after she had been standing there calling out to him.
He had looked directly at her with what now made her think was a cold, predatory stare and he said, "Where are the children?"
She shuddered at the thought, and it took her a good couple minutes to convince herself that she was obviously letting her stressed out mind make weird connections about things were simply nothing to worry about. She decided that if she was going to relax then, damn it, she was going to have to do it do it right. She reached up to the dial on the armrest of the Jacuzzi tub and switched the jets on to their highest setting. Instantly, the jets made their buzzing noise as they started up and the little nozzles started doing their job. Charlotte let the massaging jets hit her back and shoulders as she closed her eyes again and let her head rest on the folded white towel on the headrest behind her.
Directly behind and above on the bathroom wall was a large semi-circle shaped window. The master bathroom was located up on the third floor, so even with the window there and the drapes wide open, privacy in the tub was always protected because the angle and height made it impossible for anyone to see in from the ground outside. Likewise, from Charlotte’s position she could not see the beautiful sunset, shades of dark pink and red shining through that window behind her. She also would not be able to see the path right past the backyard and orchard that led down to Clarence's house. Which means that as she soaked in the intoxicating jets of the Jacuzzi tub, she did not see old Clarence Wilkerson come staggering out of his house on to his front porch, still dripping wet from his shower and wearing only his old, dirty overalls with only the right shoulder strap attached, the left one dangling as he shambled off the porch. She would not have seen the half dressed, barefoot old man making his way up the path toward the ranch house’s backyard.
He walked as if he had lost the function of his legs long ago and was just now remembering how to stagger his way along, but still he managed to shamble on his way with a determined quickness, the entire time never taking his eyes off the lighted window high up on the third floor of ranch house as he made his way up to the apple orchard and then into the backyard.
As Charlotte let herself drift into a light, peaceful sleep she did not see Clarence come to a stop in the lawn below her, his eyes still fixated on the window right above where she now rested. Nor did she have any way to take notice when he fell to his hands and knees, but still not taking his eyes off the third floor window, and began to heave and convulse as he once again discharged that thick, grayish-black sludge from his mouth. He lurched three times, each time vomiting up another putrid puddle until it formed one big pool there at his hands.
The sludgy substance then began to bubble, like tar from some prehistoric pit, and it started swirling and rising around him as if it were alive, and then it suddenly began to soak down into the soil in which it bubbled and turned. She also would never have seen the look on Clarence's face as it turned into a twisted grin and he began to chuckle to himself as the last of the disgorged slop dripped from his chin and soaked with rest into the ground, leaving a strange steam behind it as it disappeared. He continued to chuckle to himself, although the voice and manner of laughter no longer sounded like Clarence Wilkerson. This was not the gentle laughter of an old man who had always been a source of joy to those around him, this was something else. More like the sadistic laughter of a child as he pulls the legs and wings from a fly and watches it squirm about on a window sill.
~
As Charlotte drifted in and out of her much needed little nap in the rolling bubbles of the Jacuzzi tub, she did her best to allow her mind to focus on the joy of family she'd be experiencing this weekend as her nephews and their families joined her on their own little private piece of paradise out here on the old family ranch. She kept her eyes relaxed and closed as she let herself drift, letting go of the strange fear that had gripped her a few minutes ago.
It's all just your nerves, she thought as she curled her toes, letting them poke just above the water as she stretched her legs and let out a long, restful sigh.
She felt something cold and sticky drip down onto her toes as they broke the surface of the water. Fear suddenly shot back through every inch of her soul at the first feeling of this strange, and totally out of place, sensation. She slowly opened her eyes, terrified of what she would see.
A thick greyish-black slime was oozing out from the tub faucet onto her exposed toes. She immediately recognized this putrid ooze as the same sick substance that Clarence had vomited out of himself earlier. Her fear gave way to pure, mind searing terror.
"Oh...my..GOD!!!" she screamed out as she felt the slick of crude slime enveloped her entire foot and start running up the length of her leg. "What is that? WHAT TH
E HELL IS IT?!"
She continued to scream in terror as she tried to hoist herself out of the tub. Her screams reached a new level of horror as she realized she was stuck in the tub, this strange, alien slime was moving as if it was alive, and it seemed to have both of her legs fused to the bottom of the tub.
Her screams of terror gave rise to screams of terrible pain as she soon felt her skin being eaten from her legs where the ooze had covered it, "GOD PLEASE NO!!!!" She cried out in vain into the dark, empty house.
As she thrashed wildly in the tub and splashed much of the water, the mass of corrosive gunk that was eating her alive continued to poor from the faucet as well as up from the drain until it filled the tub, displacing almost all the water.
Charlotte continued to writhe in excruciating pain as the mass that had enveloped her right leg began oozing its way up her leg, as it moved it left part of her leg and foot briefly exposed, she saw the gleaming white boned of her foot poking through the top of the slick. Then screamed even louder when she saw the entire leg fall off at the knee onto the floor of the now waterless tub, only to be re-absorbed by the layer of sludge that had formed there.
She let out a pathetic, gargled moan, "Aaaahhhlllgg!" she sputtered as she tried to claw her way out of the tub, to no avail, "PLEASE!!! I DON'T WANNA DIIIEE!!!"
Knowing that her death was soon at hand, but also aware she had much more suffering to endure beforehand, her screams were now sounding more like cries of despair, tears ran down her face as she screamed in a tearful, tortured howl, "Oh God, PLEASE DON'T..” then all she could produce for a few moments were horrible sounds, “Grrglahhhnooowwag! Oohh nahhhg oowwwggglarrghhst!"
She wriggled and turned as this mass that was consuming her seemed to develop a thick film over the top of it, almost like a skin. She felt strands of this slime, which now felt more like small tentacles, squirm its way up into both of her lower orifices and make its way inside of her. Now her screaming reached an even higher, much more desperate pitch as she felt her lower extremities peeled and eaten away, and soon she could feel her insides begin to be seared and shredded. Blood and shreds of half dissolved intestines began bubbling out of her mouth as she shook and seized violently, arms wildly flopping and flailing as the this living slime ate her alive, inside and out. Somehow, she managed to form words once more amidst her unimaginable agony, "PLEASE GOD...SOMEBODY...PLEASE HELP MEEEE!!!! IT HURRTSS!!! OH MY GAHHLGR!!!"
Becoming the Gateway Page 4
