by K. A. Poe
Next we passed the trailer park my father lived in, an elementary school and a park. I could almost smell the rot of the corpses dwelling beneath the soil as we passed the cemetery. I was relieved to watch it disappear behind us.
Before long, we were in a part of town I wasn’t as familiar with. There was a long line of near-identical houses to our right, a gas station to the left, and a school. Noticing at the last moment that the Alero was dangerously low on gas, I veered into the parking lot of the gas station and stopped at a pump. Salem looked shocked at first but then the reason for our stop dawned on him. How he had lived all these years and still shunned most technology I will never know. I popped open the console and took out some of the remains of what used to be a completely full envelope. As I did a pain shot through my body, deep into my heart. I hadn’t thought much about Janet…about my mom…in quite some time. I felt a pang of guilt as I pulled what little money was left from what she had left me, and exited the car.
The cashier seemed friendly enough, maybe too friendly. He was maybe sixteen, with light, curly red hair and a face covered in freckles. Ralph, as his nametag told me, must have been pretty lonely out here in this little gas station. After much effort I drug myself away from whatever conversation he was attempting to make and headed back out. After filling the tank with gas, I hopped back into the car.
Salem immediately gave me a strange look. “What took you so long?”
“What? Oh. Nothing, the cashier was just a little lonely was all.”
“I see.”
“You’re not seriously jealous are you?” I rolled my eyes. I knew Salem had been a little skeptical of my relationship with Jason at first, but this was a stranger.
“No. Let’s just go.”
I didn’t even bother replying as I shifted into drive and pulled out of the parking lot back onto the road. Within ten minutes we met the highway and began our journey out of town toward Littlehaven Institute.
What was I even going to say to my grandfather when I met him? I turned my attention briefly to Salem, who was staring out the window and watching the world go by. “Salem?” I said quietly, my eyes set on the road ahead once more.
“Yes?”
“I thought of something that’s kind of been bothering me a little.”
“What is it?” he asked. I could see him staring at me from the corner of my eye.
“What if my grandfather is dead or not living at the institute anymore?” I said, trying to hold back the panic.
“If he were dead, Paul would have been informed,” he insisted, “and if he isn't at the hospital for some reason, I am sure someone there can direct us to where he has relocated to.”
“You’re right,” I said, attempting a smile.
Roughly thirty miles into our trip we pulled into a rest stop so that I could use the bathroom. Salem summoned me a sandwich, which I ate despite my lack of appetite, and its lack of taste. Then back on the road we went, following the crude directions I had written down from the internet. After twenty miles more, we still had not reached Littlehaven. According to the directions I had gotten we should have been there almost ten miles ago. After continuing on for a couple of miles Salem suggested we stop somewhere and ask if we were still headed the right way. I pulled over at the first available place, a tiny inn.
As I entered I was greeted with little more than a nod from a middle-aged Asian man. “Hi, would you be able to help us? We’re trying to get to Littlehaven. The directions I wrote down said it should be around here close by, are we almost there?”
The man pushed his thick horn-rimmed glasses up his nose and stared at me for a minute. At first I thought he may not speak English, but then he opened his mouth. “Littlehaven, you say? You are a long way off. It’s southwest of here. Exit is maybe, forty miles south still.”
“Forty miles south?!” I exclaimed. We had passed the exit almost forty miles ago? Was he sure? “Are you sure that is where it is? You see I’m trying to get to-“
“Yes, yes I am sure. Do you need a room or no?”
“What? No. Thank you,” I left the inn more than a little irritated, more so with the knowledge of how far we had went off track than with the rude innkeeper.
“So, how far do we need to go still?” Salem asked with a genuinely curious look on his face.
I let off a small frustrated scream. “He says we passed the exit like two hours ago.”
“What?”
“Yeah. I don’t know how. I guess I wrote down the directions wrong in my excitement, I don’t know.” I slammed my fist into the steering wheel and grunted again.
“Alex, it will be okay. It is barely passed one o’clock. We still have plenty of time to get there today.”
As he spoke I suddenly became overcome by exhaustion. How could this even be possible? I had slept a full day, then the night after had gotten a full normal night’s sleep. I had only been up maybe five hours. Salem must have noticed my sudden weakness.
“Alex, are you okay? You look…pale.”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little tired all of a sudden.” My head nodded over and for a moment I thought I was going to fall asleep where I sat. How could I be so tired?
“Nonsense. We are at an inn, let’s just go inside and stay a while.”
“No, I’m fine. We need to go. I have to find my grandfather.”
“Littlehaven will still be there tomorrow. I’m worried about you Alex, and if you are tired you should rest. Now, let’s get inside.”
I looked up as we entered the little office of the inn, seeing the Asian man with a look of pure annoyance.
“Look. I told you, Littlehaven is south on highway. Exit on right side.”
“We need a room,” Salem said simply.
“Oh, a room, okay. Yes. We have eight rooms. Six open right now. Two have nice view of-”
“Any room is fine. It doesn’t matter. We just need some rest from our travel.”
“Okay, very well, here is key. Room number seven, around back and near end, okay?”
After paying for a single night of use, we walked off to find our room.
It was small and cramped, but I didn't care at the moment. I groggily lay across the full-sized bed without bothering to change into something more comfortable. I felt Salem slip my shoes off and drape a blanket across me that hadn't previously existed moments earlier. Sleep came over me quicker than I had anticipated, but I welcomed it happily.
I woke to find that it was surprisingly the following morning. How I had slept so long again was a mystery, but I soon forgot about my thoughts as I was presented with a bowl of cereal – the simplest meal Salem had ever prepared for me – but I wasn't complaining. I spooned every last piece of cereal into my mouth and set the bowl aside. I was fortunate that my body was still capable of digesting human food, despite its near tastelessness. Blood simply was not something I had any interest in ever consuming again. After I had eaten I took a quick shower. I was surprised that Salem was nowhere to be seen.
I headed towards the office to go ahead and check out, making sure to grab a little travel map from a shelf inside before I headed to the car. When I got there, Salem was sitting on the hood.
“I guess that means you are ready to go now, then?” I laughed.
“Are you? I have been worried about how tired you have been getting lately, Alex, but I think I may know why.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yes. I know you are not a complete vampire, but you are also not fully human. I think the reason you have been so tired is your lack of sustenance.”
“What? You mean food? But I’ve been eating plenty. That doesn’t make any sense really. Yesterday I had just eaten that sandwich before-”
“No,” he cut me off, “I mean sustenance for the vampiric part of you.”
“What are you talking…wait…you mean blood, don’t you?! No way! I am not doing that again unless I have to.”
“Exactly my point, I think you have to.”
&n
bsp; “But you don’t know for sure. Look, I feel fine right now, let’s just go.”
“Very well, but next time you are randomly exhausted for no reason, we need to try it.”
“Whatever.”
We pulled out and headed south towards the exit we had somehow missed before. Salem appeared deep in thought, barely making even small talk during the car ride.
“Is something on your mind?” I asked as we passed a long pasture spotted with the occasional horse.
“I am just wondering what Richard will say about your...condition,” he replied distantly.
“Oh," I said quietly, thinking now on the same subject. For all I knew, this would be a complete waste of time and my grandfather wouldn't know any more about it than Paul, Salem, or myself. Of course, when I factored in that I would be meeting my grandfather for the first time, and that made it slightly less pointless if nothing else came of the visit. As I thought this over, we drove ever-nearer to our destination.
We got to the exit before I knew it. The trip hadn’t felt nearly as long this time. I turned right and shook my head as I realized how we had missed the turn before. The street sign lay on the ground, knocked over by who knows what. I was just glad we were finally on track. We had barely twenty more miles before we would arrive at Littlehaven.
Without taking any stops, we arrived at the town before long, if that is what you would call it. I thought Willowshire had been small, but this had to be miniscule. Everything looked old, and everything was spread out. No one seemed to have an actual neighbor here; the houses were for the most part separated by several acres of land.
Luckily my directions for the location of the mental hospital had been accurate, and after a few turns here and there I could see the large brick building up ahead, surrounded by a thick wrought iron fence. I drove slowly into the parking lot, checking to make sure I didn't park someplace reserved, then finally chose a spot. I felt like hours had passed while I sat there staring at the building. It was four stories, with barred windows on the upper levels. There was a field of green grass surrounding the front, and potted plants with various different colorful flowers aligning a thin walkway that led to the entrance. About ten feet in front of the building was a stone fountain with a waterfall, and atop it was a cement sign with the name 'Littlehaven Institute' across it in big, bold letters. Why they had chosen this little speck of a town for this large hospital, I wasn’t sure.
I could faintly hear Salem saying my name, and I turned to look at him. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I'm fine,” I muttered, “just a little nervous, that's all.”
“Don't be,” he smiled, “there's nothing to be anxious about, and I will be with you the whole time.”
I attempted to smile as I left the car and met him on the opposite side. He took my hand and gripped it tightly, reassuringly, and we approached the wrought iron gate. Salem pushed it open and it creaked noisily on its hinges. I felt more like I was headed toward a prison than a mental hospital, which only increased my anxiety.
The rippling water in the fountain was clear and beautiful, trickling down slowly into a pool filled with shimmering coins. Soon our feet met the thin pathway and I could smell the strong, floral aroma coming off of the plants as we passed them. The smell was so strong it was nearly sickening. I took a deep breath when we approached the two doors, and before I had the chance to turn back, Salem had his hands on the handle and was opening it.
23. GRANDPA WALDRON
We were met immediately by a welcoming breeze that tickled my skin, and I noticed a cooling vent blowing air down from the ceiling. The floor was covered in light green marble tile, aside from the thick black mats we stood on. To the left was a receptionist's desk, and to the right was a row of roughly thirty chairs, a vending machine and a small television perched up on the wall. Behind the desk was a slender, pleasant-looking woman with slightly graying copper hair that she wore up in a neat bun. I cautiously walked up to the desk and she stared at me expectantly through thin-rimmed spectacles. She reminded me all too much of a librarian.
It took me a moment to find my voice, and when I finally did it came out hoarse and mumbled, “I'm here to see a patient.”
“Excuse me?” she said, her voice was somewhat impatient.
“I'm sorry,” I said as I cleared my throat, “I am here to see a patient.”
“Who might you be seeing?”
“Richard Waldron,” I said with more confidence.
She eyed me awkwardly, and then arched a brow. “Are you sure you have the right name?”
My heart sunk. My assumptions must have been right – he wasn't here anymore, this was a complete waste of time and I was never going to get any answers.
“Yes, she is,” Salem answered for me.
“No one has ever come to visit Mr. Waldron before,” she said in awe.
So, maybe I was wrong.
“Are you a relative?”
“Yes, I'm his granddaughter,” I replied.
“Name, please?”
“Alexis Waldron. Or, it might be listed as Hobbs.”
She nodded and glanced at the computer monitor in front of her. I heard her fingers typing on the keyboard as she looked up the information. “You are indeed listed as his granddaughter,” she said, “Looks like someone called in to add you just yesterday. I will have a nurse sent down to take you to his room.”
“Thanks...” I said quietly as Salem and I retreated to the opposite side of the room and sat in the waiting area. The TV was so small that I could barely make out the pictures on the screen, and it was muted. There was a stack of magazines on a small table in the corner of the room, but I was never too fond of reading those. I was just glad Paul had apparently remembered to call and add me to the family listing.
“Relax, Alex,” Salem whispered, holding both of my hands now. I hadn't noticed how much I was fidgeting until then. “You have nothing to be worried about.”
“I have a lot to be worried about.”
“No, you don’t,” he smiled. “Trust me.”
Just as I was about to reply again, a short, rotund man with thick, curly ginger hair came through two doors I had previously not noticed. They were to the left of the receptionist desk, leading down a long hallway. He was wearing dark blue scrubs with pictures of fish on the shirt. He said my name as he came through the swinging doors and I hesitantly got up.
“You are here to see Mr. Waldron?” he asked in a quiet, boyish voice.
“I am,” I replied. Salem and I followed him through the white doors. We walked down the hallway, passing a restroom and two doors, one of which read “Employees Only”, then came upon an elevator and a staircase.
The nurse – whose name tag read 'John' – clicked the up arrow beside the elevator doors and we stood in silence, waiting. The doors slid open and the three of us entered. I felt increasingly more nervous the closer we got to the top floor, and was positive I was going to throw up when the doors flew open. Salem gripped my hand tightly again as we walked onto the white, glossy linoleum floor of the upper level. I swallowed back the oncoming bile and examined my new surroundings.
We were in the center of a long, wide room. I could see some of the barred windows overlooking the backside of the building. All that I could see through them was a set of patio furniture and even more grass. At the very end of the room, to our left, were another small television and a wooden table. On the table sat a pile of three or four board game boxes and sitting beside them were two patients playing with cards. To the right was a wall of closed doors on each side, another restroom, and at the very end there appeared to be a turn that undoubtedly led to even more rooms.
“Mr. Waldron is one of our more eccentric patients,” John said as he led us down the hall of doors and around the bend. “He has been with us for several years without a visitor, which is a shame. He seems like a nice enough man, even if the things he says are a little off the wall sometimes. I am his usual nurse, and even though he talks
about supernatural things all the time, he never seems to be quite as...loopy...as the rest of the folk here.”
“I don't believe he is crazy at all,” I replied, “if you ask me, it was all a misunderstanding.”
“You might change your mind after you meet him. Like I said, he is nice and seems stable, but he does talk about some strange stuff,” The man said, stopping abruptly at a door with the number ’33 D’ etched into the wood. There was a small peep hole below the digits. John knocked lightly and waited for a response.
Now was the time to really panic. My grandfather was behind this door. What was he going to be like? Would he like me, would he approve of Salem? “Oh, no...” I gasped in realization.
“What's the matter?” John asked, eying me curiously.
“It's nothing,” I said, although both the nurse and Salem were aware that I was lying. I could feel sweat trickling down my forehead. There was no doubt in my mind that my grandfather would recognize Salem for what he was. I was a fool to have brought him here! “S-salem...do you think you could wait out here, until I’ve talked to him a little bit?”
“Of course,” he replied, “I understand.”
He smiled and despite his eagerness to please me, it almost made me feel worse. Salem stepped aside and leaned against the wall beside the door. I heard the door creak open and unintentionally stared at the man before me – he returned the gaze.
“Afternoon, Richard,” John said calmly, smiling warmly at the old man, “You have a visitor!”
The old man standing in the doorway looked surprisingly familiar. His eyes were so much like Kim's, it was uncanny. It was hard to believe he was Paul's father, considering how tall and bulky Paul was, whereas this man was short, maybe my height, and gauntly thin. He wore gray sweatpants and a plain white t-shirt that hung loosely around his brittle frame. There was receding gray and bronze hair atop his scalp and I would have guessed he was in his mid-sixties or late seventies. He looked stern, cautious and also curious.
