“This place looks spooky,” Alena whispered as she clutched onto Face and held the old cat snugly against her chest. “Is this where we’re staying?”
“It won’t be so bad once we get all the lights on,” Christopher said as he opened up the back door and held out a hand to Alena. “I was only about two years older than you were when I first came here.”
“Were you scared?”
“Of course, it’s natural to be scared—but there’s nothing to fear.” Christopher said as he remembered the first time he met grandpa Bones. Even though he only knew the man for about a week, he had made such an impression on him. He had cared so much when so many family members had merely pretended. He left Christopher this house and whatever savings he had left—which in turn Christopher used to pay Jack and Bill to make sure the house was always in good shape… Although Christopher suspected they made a lot of free repairs and updates over the years without touching the money he set aside for them. They were good people. Everyone that Christopher had lost was such good, wonderful people. In a way Alena had the right idea, and he hated thinking that way—why do the good die when people who act horribly are allowed life, and sometimes an abundance of it? For a while Christopher allowed himself to believe that he had gone through enough. He had endured so much pain, yet still there was sadness.
Alena’s hand in his he walked to the front door. He found the key to the old house and the door slowly creaked open as Alena hid behind Christopher’s leg and clutched onto his hand tightly.
“It’s alright Allie.”
With a flick of the switch Christopher illuminated the entry to the old house, filling it in a soft yellow glow of a twisted CFL bulb. He led Alena into the living room and turned the switch on an aged golden lamp as he filled the house with more light.
“See it’s not so bad,” Christopher said as he pointed to an old grey couch that resided in the center of the room. “Have a seat and I’ll get our stuff from the car.
“It’s too quiet,” Alena protested as she plopped back in the oversized sofa.
“Here, let me get the TV going for you,” Christopher said as he made his way to the old wood paneled style television set and flipped on a knob. A late night news re-run came on the fuzzy screen.
“It’s broken…”
“It’s not broken Allie,” Christopher said as he smiled and shook his head, “It’s just in black and white.”
To be honest, he was surprised that the old television set even worked.
“Is everything alright now?” Christopher asked as he began to walk towards the door.
Alena silently nodded as kept her gaze fixated on the old television. On the news a woman was standing before a three-day forecast of the Springfield area. She talked about cooler than average temperatures and a slight chance of rain later in the week.
Christopher exited the house, leaving the door open ever-so-slightly. As he walked to the back of his car, he paused for a moment as he stared out into the darkness. A few late night fireflies danced about as the overbearing chorus of crickets and frogs filled the cool humid air. For a few seconds, Christopher was transported back in time to the memory of the first night of his arrival to Pine Hollow. He remembered being in awe at a place where a car did not pass by every few minutes, or the absence of streetlights that would line the road and obstruct the view of the stars overhead. When he and Kylie came back here the from time to time, they would sit on the stairs near the door and look out into the night. Hand in hand, the pair would talk of simple things. Out here in the woods and bluffs, nothing ever seems too terribly pressing. There is a peace, a constancy of a slower time—a comfort that a city would never afford those that inhabit it. The last time Christopher and Kylie sat at the stairs they talked about whether or not they would ever tell Alena about the past. It was a difficult decision, for often they did not even believe exactly what had happened. If they had not lived it, they would not have believed it. Kylie did not want to fill Alena’s head with strange stories that people would tease her over. They never came to a decision. Christopher now wondered once more if he should. He worried if she would even believe him if he tried. Alena would believe her mother. Christopher wished she was here. He was so spent more time with her. Then again, he thought they had forever… or a lifetime at the least.
Christopher shrugged away the unpleasant thoughts that began to fill his mind as a impatient meow came muffled from the car window. He set himself to work as he unloaded the suitcases from the car and began to pile them into the living room of the house. On the last trip, carrying the old cat, out of habit, he locked the doors to the Mazda and locked the front door of the house behind him. When he was younger, the doors were never locked here. There was never any need.
“You still doin’ alright?” Christopher asked as passed into the kitchen with a paper sack full of groceries.
“Yep,” Alena quietly spoke as she kept her attention to the television.
Alena had been unusually quiet over the past months. However, Christopher allowed it—he felt she deserved it. Although he did worry greatly for her own well-being; he noticed that she ate much less and was growing skinnier. She socialized with friends a lot less, the last month she was in school she even got into a few arguments with some of her close friends. They were as understanding as they could be, however she did succeed in driving a few of them away. They both saw a therapist for a short time, depression eventually led them to stop going and spend most of their time in front of the television set. Alena did improve a little when Alice began to babysit her once summer started. Alice, after all, had lost a father to a work related accident and could relate on some level. It seemed these days that Christopher could barely relate to Alena at all. He wondered how they had grown so far apart in such a short amount of time—then he realized the sadder truth: he had not been there much for her, not like Kylie had always been. If there was any reason for the disconnection, Christopher felt it was because he was not a good father to begin with. He hoped he could be. He genuinely wished that bringing her here would allow him to be. There had to be something, some kind of magic—that could bring them together. He believed this with every fiber of his being.
As Christopher passed the kitchen counter he saw a small white note attached to the counter with a tiny black stone placed atop it. He picked it up and ran his hand along the surface. This was a letter from a dead man.
Christopher and Kylie,
Had some new electrical work done in the living room and basement—tossed out a lot of the old TV Guides and newspapers (fire hazard). Fixed the leaky sink in the bathroom and cleaned out the refrigerator, you guys left some bread in there that had grown a pretty odd color. Left a lot of the canned goods but tossed a lot of the frozen items, I don’t believe that frozen pizza and Hot Pockets last longer than six years. Just a note in case you guys stop by this year. If you do, let us know. We would love to catch up.
Jack Olen
Christopher set the short letter back down on the counter as he cleared a bit of dust from a barstool chair and sat against it. He let out a very sigh as he folded the letter and placed the black rock back over it. He buried his face in his hands. It would have been nice if someone else was here—he had nobody to turn to.
“I’m tired,” Alena whispered as she soundlessly had entered the room. Face followed behind her and rubbed his back against the bottom of the chair.
“Christopher jumped in his chair as his heart pounded in his chest.
“I’m sorry dad,” Alena added as she small frown spread across her face. “We didn’t mean to scare you.”
“No worries,” Christopher said as he took Alena by the hand and carried her small baby blue with orange hibiscus flower printed suitcase his other. “It’s pretty late isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” Alena softly replied. “Plus the television only gets three channels and they’re all showing infomercials.”
“When I was here as a kid, they stopped all programming after
around one in the morning and there was nothing to watch at all.”
“Sounds like a better thing to watch than infomercials.”
“Have you always been this witty?” Christopher asked as he led Alena up the staircase.
“Mom always said I was funny…”
“She was right,” Christopher added as he opened up a door and flipped on the switch to a small bedroom at the top of the staircase.
The bedroom was sparsely decorated. A simple wooden bed with white sheets sat in the corner beneath a large window with slightly warped glass. An old chair with a fraying cushion sat along the slightly dingy white wall. A dresser with a large mirror occupied the other corner. This was all familiar to Christopher; after all, this had been his room.
Christopher unpacked Alena’s clothing as she dressed into light blue (her favorite color) nightgown. He placed a small nightlight in an open outlet that projected a tiny picture of fish swimming in the ocean on the ceiling above the bed. Christopher tucked her into bed as face stretched out placed his claws into the white fabric. The cat then curled at Alena’s feet, letting out a short yawn before resting his head against her warm toes. Christopher began to leave as he placed a hand upon the door. “Goodnight Allie…”
“Don’t…” Alena whispered.
“I’m sorry?” Christopher said as he released his grip from the doorknob.
“Don’t leave.”
“Do you need something?” Christopher asked pulled the wooden chair from the wall and sat beside Alena.
“I don’t know,” Alena whispered as she turned and placed her hands around a dingy grey stuffed dog and held onto it tightly.
“Are you afraid of this place?”
“A little bit.”
“You know when I was here, when I was thirteen, I slept here.” Christopher began as he hesitated for a moment on whether he should elaborate more on the story.
“Were you scared?”
“A little bit,” Christopher said as he reached over and placed a hand over hers. “You know this old dog, Fred, he used to be mine. Could you believe that at one time he was bright white?”
“He’s my favorite,” Alena whispered.
“You like him pretty much?” Christopher said as he was on the cusp of letting the story spill from his lips. “I did too, but now he watches over you. That’s his job now—to make sure that you’re not afraid of anything.”
“I thought it was Face’s job to make sure I was safe at night.”
“From spiders,” Christopher said as he shook his head, “Otherwise he’s a pretty useless old cat. For everything else you can rely on Fred.”
“He can hear you, you know?”
“He knows I’m just joking.” Christopher said as he reached down and squeezed Alena tightly against his chest. “You know what happened the first night I stayed here and I was afraid?”
“What?”
“Fred talked to me,” Christopher said letting some of the past slip into now.
“What did he say?” Alena said as she looked curiously to the old stuffed dog.
“I believe he said that I would be fine,” Christopher said as he nodded.
“Did that really happen?”
“Do you believe me?”
Alena was quiet for a few moments. Christopher took this hesitation as doubt. He instantly regretted even mentioning it—but the longer they would be here, the more the stories of the past would have to be brought up. After all Alena had been through, believing in a little magic could do no harm—at least, that is what Christopher honestly believed.
“Do you promise that it happened?”
“I do.”
“You’re not just telling me it to make me feel better… about—mom.” Alena whispered sadly a she closed her eyes tightly. “A lot of people have been telling me things that I don’t believe.”
“What kinds of things?”
“That she’s in a better place… Or that she is always with me. She’s not here, or anywhere, she’s just gone,” Alena whispered as a tear came down from her closed eye. Her voice trembled as though she was fighting of a deluge of tears.
“Oh Allie...,” Christopher whispered as he held onto her tightly. “Your mother will always be with you in a way. You just can’t see it yet. I know it’s hard but, I promise you that things will get better. You will feel her on sunny days, or when you’re happy—you’ll find her again.”
“I will never be happy again,” Alena whispered as she cleared her eyes and her voice grew more angry than sad. “So if you’re telling me things to make me feel better, then it won’t work.”
“I promise you,” Christopher said as he held tightly onto her hand. “By the time we leave here you will believe in something wonderful.”
“Is that why we are here?”
“It is the only reason we are here.”
Alena turned away from Christopher and faced the wall. He slowly got to his feet and nodded.
“I’ll be just in the room right next door. If there is anything you need just let me know, try and get some sleep Allie,” Christopher whispered as he began to leave. As he reached the doorway he paused and waited for a response—none was supplied. “If Fred says anything, let me know.”
As he walked to the next room he propped the door open with his suitcase. He removed his pants and climbed into bed. The full moon shone through an unobstructed window illuminating the room in delicate grays. Christopher looked around the room; it had a nearly identical setup to his own aside from an old painting of two hunting dogs—one with a dead duck dangling from its mouth. This was James’s room. He had not been in here in years. Whenever he and Kylie would stay they would sleep on the first floor in Bones’s old bedroom. The memory of James always kept him out of this room…Ironic now that he now could not bring himself to sleep in Bones’s old room for fear of memories of the past that he spent there with Kylie.
Christopher could not fault Alena for being so sad, for as much as she showed it and spoke of it, he equally felt it. He did his best to try and be strong around her. He and Kylie had been together for more than twelve years. She was his first love. When they had lost contact after everything that had happened here, he thought of her all the time. He always knew, or at least felt that he knew, that they would be together—someday, somewhere… Now, he could not believe that she was just gone. Even though months had passed, he often just expected to wake up one morning and see her lying beside him. At night, half asleep, he would reach out to her only to find the vacant spot her grace and beauty once occupied. Christopher would give anything to be with her once more--to run his hands through her long hair, to gaze into those beautiful smiling eyes. So much was taken for granted. He would trade all the money he made or all the success he was ever granted for a full life in poverty with her. It would not matter—all that would matter would be that they were together; that Alena would not be in such a state. The fact that he could not comfort his own daughter left him feeling even more of a failure. It pained him greatly to realize that he could not raise her on his own. He was not a strong man, not anymore. He did not believe he could ever be again.
As Christopher drifted off to sleep, he last thought of the cave—the Alena Cartwright cave. Eventually he would return there, much as he did so many times before—however, this time, he knew there was something there for him. He had to believe there was truth to that thought. As he was carried away to sleep he half expected something strange to happen; some sign to come to show him that there was something grand in store for him. He was too tired for disappointment when nothing but a black, empty sleep arrived to take him away into the night.
Chapter 2: Memories of Pine Hollow
With a heavy heart I searched for some solace. Has the years passed so far that I have grown bitter? Do I steel myself from any wonderment left in the world? With a heavy heart I returned to the last place I left prestidigitation.
Christopher awoke to the sounds of the early calls and quips of birds as opp
osed to the jarring sound of his alarm clock back at home. It had been a long time since he had allowed himself to sleep without a schedule. He checked his silver wristwatch, a gift from Kylie, it showed that it was a little past seven. Despite the lack of an alarm he had managed to awaken at around the same time he would for work. Perhaps it was his body’s natural rhythm.
Christopher dressed and stood at the window sill. Time had slightly warped the glass giving the world a curved look through the old pane. He took in a heavy breath of air as he brushed away a layer of dust from the glass. This misstep caused him to cough for a moment as he breathed in dancing particles of dust. As he regained his composure he looked out to the familiar landscape. The rolling tree covered hills spread out before him. There were so many trees—that always impressed him. These wild trees were different from those in the city, clipped and confined like caged birds. Here, nature had providence. Nature was king. Grand trees grew to limitless heights in the sky; a mighty gathering of beautiful green surrounded the view from the window. A breeze passed by causing the mob to sway in a meticulously choreographed wave. No matter how far Christopher removed himself from nature, even without meaning to do so, he was always in awe of its presence. It was always sights like this that made him wonder why he ever left—why he just didn’t give up that job and move Kylie and Alena here. He supposed work would be hard to get by with Springfield being over an hour away. Still, they could have lived here…happily.
Christopher tip-toed past Alena’s room, just as he had grown accustomed to at home—he was always up before her. He made his way down the creaky staircase that threatened to give away his intentions. He entered the kitchen and began to brew a pot of coffee from an old tin can he found in one of the cabinets.
“What’s for breakfast?” Alena announced as she entered into the kitchen, startling Christopher once more.
“How do you do that?”
“Do what?”
“I thought I’d let you sleep in…” Christopher admitted as he searched the cabinets for a suitable coffee mug. “You’re great at sneaking up on people.”
Window in the Earth Trilogy Page 48
