Evil Heights, Book III: Lost and Found

by Michael Swanson

  Patty had seen it as well. “Hah! Shocked ya', didn't it.” She thought this was uproariously funny, but her faked, forced laughter was obviously more taunting than humorous.

  Ignoring his sister as she kept up her cackling at his expense Lee switched the channel over from channel 13 to channel 2. He wobbled back over to the couch on his knees and climbed aboard. A commercial for Jiffy Pop Popcorn, a brand new product, which had just come out, was on. The growing bulge in the foil atop the metal pan over the stove's burner flame was expanding at a rate equal to the population growth of China.

  "Ooh, I want Mama to get us some of that,” Patty cooed, suddenly dropping the forced laughter. She actually reached out to touch the screen as the erupting foil tore apart to reveal a mountain of perfect popcorn.

  "Look out!” Lee yelled.

  Startled, Patty yanked her hand away.

  It was Lee's turn to laugh, adding, “Scared you, didn't I?"

  "No, you didn't,” Patty scowled ruefully. But she scooted back a bit further than her normal, right up near the screen position.

  Seeing the popcorn, Lee's mouth had begun to water. That smell that always hit him the moment he walked into the movie theatre was fresh in his mind; he could almost taste the butter and salt. “Maybe Dad and Maggie'll bring us some home from the movie,” he offered hopefully.

  "They'd better,” was Patty's sharp reply.

  The end of the commercial cut away to a dead screen, and then a test pattern appeared. It was an image of an Indian in a feathered headdress in the center of a number of crossing bands which somewhat resembled the British Union Jack. This was a normal evening event for Channel Two, as they frequently seemed to experience technical problems when switching between local commercials and the live network feed.

  "Someone's screwin’ up!” Lee yelled, trying to imitate his dad's tone and exact words. “Come on, idiots! Wake up! Get with the program!"

  "Yeah, wake up!” Patty mimicked.

  As though in answer, a familiar theme song came up with trumpets blaring, and the dynamic angular S logo filled the screen. Next, a revolver fired a shot, and the announcer proclaimed: “Faster than a speeding bullet...” A charging steam engine roared out from screen right, and the voice said, “More powerful than a locomotive..."

  Lee sat up. “What's this?” He shook his head incredulously. “This looks like Superman."

  Patty turned and shrugged, “I didn't do it."

  Lee leaned forward to see the knob. “It is it on channel 2, isn't it?"

  Patty pointed to the number and nodded.

  "I don't get it,” Lee scratched his head. “It's 9:30 right?"

  They both looked up at the clock on the wall by the hutch. It read 9:32.

  Patty reached over, and clicked the selector dial to channel 11, getting nothing but static. Twisting the knob to 13 there was just the same whirling electronic snow. Going over to Channel 8 there was an image, just a dim, ghosted signal. Lee could barely make out a grainy placard, which read: “Off the Air."

  Lee nodded to the set. “Go back to Superman."

  Patty switched it back just in time to see George Reeves, the Man of Steel, as he was flying through the fake, cottony clouds, his cape standing out stiffly behind him.

  "I like this show!” Patty perked up, settling back down cross-legged with her feet hitched under her and Lucky Pup still strangling under her arm.

  Lee sat up on the edge of the couch, not really knowing what to make of this. He had that weird, spooky feeling. Something wasn't right.

  As they watched, George Reeves landed, completely unnoticed behind the Daily Planet building, and quickly resumed his appearance as mild-mannered reporter, Clark Kent.

  Lee couldn't put his finger on exactly what it was that bothered him about this so he sat back and crossed his arms. It was possible that there had been a last minute schedule change. But, the more he watched, the more he began to realize, he knew what was going to happen. Even before the first break for commercials it dawned on him he had seen this episode before. Sure enough, just as he expected, the bank robbers came running out of the bank only to be foiled by Superman who had flown in and was blocking their escape, with the get away car up in the air, held easily aloft by one super arm.

  The thugs on the run, the story broke for commercial, and a new Ford Fairlane was tooling down the wide open highway, its massive chrome trim and bumpers flashing temptingly in the sun.

  "Look!” Patty pealed. “It's grandma's car!"

  There was no denying it. The same model, which Maggie and Ted had driven tonight to the Carolina theatre, was now streaming a trail of dust as it roared along side of the Grand Canyon. A graphic appeared at the bottom followed by the announcement: “New for 1957. Come test drive the whole line of quality Ford built automobiles."

  "What in the world?” Lee thought out loud.

  Patty turned back to look at her brother. “What's the matter with you?"

  Lee pointed at the screen. “Didn't you see? That was a commercial from 1957, maybe even ‘56!"

  Patty shrugged. The men from Texaco, in their matching service station attendant uniforms had appeared. Completely forgetting Lee, she watched the men from Texaco sing their jingle while smiling broadly, eager to show everyone how much they enjoyed servicing their customer's cars. “We are the men from Texaco...” Patty clapped as she sang along.

  Lee shook his head. He thought of Carl and how he dressed and looked when he was working. He was a far cry from one of the spit and polish men of Texaco. Grinning as he thought about it, Lee imagined Carl's expression and reply if his boss asked him to wear a bow tie sing while pumping gas. Still though, coming back to what he was seeing on the T.V., he sat up and was sitting on the edge of the sofa, looking more and more confused as the car whose windows they were scrubbing was a brand new ‘56 Studebaker.

  After the commercials, Superman came back on. Clark Kent was wearing his business suit and glasses, standing next to a water cooler, he was talking to Lois Lane, who obviously didn't have any clue who he really was.

  "This show,” Lee sputtered, “it went off the air two years ago.” He wiggled a finger at George Reeves. “That guy killed himself just last year. It was in the papers. He shot himself!"

  Patty was thoroughly left behind. “So?"

  "Then how can it be on tonight?” Lee pointed to the screen. “You know it's not like they can just rerun the shows. Can you imagine?” Lee shook his head and squinched his mouth up sarcastically. “Like some day they won't make any new programs, and they'll just show old shows over and over again?"

  Patty grimaced as if she'd smelled something bad. “That'd be stupid."

  At that moment, the television flashed silver-white, every bit as brightly as a dozen photographer's flashes. There was even an accompanying pop, just like a spent flash bulb, and the sharp smell of ozone in the air. Lee had been looking straight into the television, and now he saw a big yellow blob right in the center of his field of vision.

  Patty, who was much closer and had been staring straight into the screen, had even yelped. She immediately sat up, and was rubbing both fists into her eyes.

  "What was that?” she moaned.

  "Beats me,” Lee replied. “Hey! Look at that.” Lee pointed towards the screen. “It's changed. There's a western on!” The blobs in his eyes hadn't diminished at all, but he could see enough to tell that Superman was no longer there. The program now on the screen showed a couple of soldiers talking and leading their horses as they passed in front of a log cabin. Another soldier, this one in an officer's uniform and painfully thin, passed directly in front of the men, forcing them to come to an abrupt stop. The horses hedged back, and the soldiers, holding the reins, were hard pressed to keep their mounts steady and still manage a salute.

  Lee was rubbing his eyes, too using his palms. It didn't help, only making the blobs grow larger. “Did you change the channel, Squirt?"

  "Uh-uh,” Patty came back. “Lee?” Patty soun
ded on the verge of tears. “I can't hardly see."

  "Don't worry,” he said switching from rubbing with his palms to blinking rapidly. “Don't rub your eyes, blink, like me. See, it gets better more quickly if you don't rub."

  The officer barely returned a cursory salute, and in one lanky jump was up the cabin's steps, and had disappeared into the door.

  Patty was blinking, looking dazed and blind. She looked so silly; Lee couldn't help but grin. “You got those eyelids working like a dragonfly's wings,” he teased.

  Patty turned back to the set, keeping her head back and staring down her nose at the T.V. while blinking. “What's this stupid show?” she complained crossly.

  Lee's vision was coming back. There was just a grayish ghost of the flash remaining, leaving an after image of the outline of the T.V. screen he couldn't shake. Leaning forward he squinted. “It looks like a Western. Maybe it's Bat Masterson.” Lee tossed a glance at the clock on the wall, then had to move his head to see the hands because of his blind spot. “Yeah, it should be Bat Masterson.” He sat back, still occasionally blinking and added, “About time."

  For at least a couple of minutes, both kids watched while nothing at all happened on the screen. All they saw was the front of a rustic looking log cabin. “Is there any sound?” Lee finally asked.

  Patty reached up to touch the volume knob, but at the last moment held her fingers back. She swiveled her head around to look at Lee. “Will it shock me?"

  Lee scooted off the couch and hobbled over on his knees. “I don't know. You're such a chicken, Squirt. Here, let me try.” Hesitantly, he reached forward, and when he didn't receive a shock he gave the knob a full twist to the right. Nothing, no sound, no static, nothing. “That's weird,” he said.

  "What?"

  "I've got it turned all the way up. There should be some kind of sound, at least some static or something."

  "I told you, you broke it,” was Patty's quick reply. “It wasn't me."

  "I didn't do anything either.” Lee couldn't help but feel a quick flush of anger. “You know, you don't have to be such a jerk to me all the time."

  Patty wagged her head back and forth and stuck out her tongue. In her singsong voice she started in. “Lee broke the T.V. Lee broke the T.V. I'm telling. I'm telling."

  Twisting the volume back down a bit, Lee then reached over to the channel control knob. The instant his finger came into contact there was a spark and the crackle from the little static shock. Superman was back on the screen. The sound was blaring loudly, and Lee quickly turned it down.

  "See,” relief was evident in his voice. “It's okay."

  Patty just stuck out her tongue again and said, “I'm still telling."

  Lee jumped up. “I'm gonna call Ronnie and see what they're watching. Something weird's going on, and I know it's not my fault."

  Patty followed with her eyes as Lee scuffed his way around to the phone on the wall by the kitchen, squeaking his feet with each step.

  Suddenly, Lee stopped abruptly, his feet almost skating out from under him on the slick hardwood floor. He looked at the big, family picture hanging on the wall, then back over to the T.V. and then back to picture.

  Patty, who was watching with great interest, asked, “What's the matter with you?"

  Lee didn't answer. He appeared as though in a daze.

  "Lee,” Patty protested, “you're scaring me."

  Taking small, hesitant steps he moved up closer to the picture and gingerly touched the glass with his fingers. He then moved over to the side and looked at the picture from this angle, then waved his hand over it up and down.

  "This is crazy,” he gaped to Patty. “Come over here and you take a look. Tell me if I'm seeing things."

  Patty jumped up and carrying Lucky Pup, hurried over. “What, Lee?” Her voice definitely had a tremble to it. “What do you see?"

  "Look!” He touched the glass again. “Look in the glass. Don't you see it?"

  She shook her head. “Uh-uh."

  Patty was obviously too short to be able to see the reflection, so Lee lifted her up.

  She looked at the picture, then offered hesitantly, “It's a picture of grandma, and mamma and a bunch of old people I don't know."

  "No,” he came back. “Look at the reflection of the T.V."

  Patty looked at the glass and then back over to the television, and then back to the glass. Finally she looked at Lee. “They're different!"

  Lee let her down. “See! It's not just me. I thought I was going nuts. Who's that on the T.V.?"

  She looked at the screen. “Superman."

  "What show's on in the reflection in the picture?"

  "Bat Masterson,” she replied, her eyes wide.

  Lee breathed on the picture's glass then rubbed it with a corner of his shirtsleeve. No use, it was still Superman on the set, and the cabin in the scene from Bat Masterson reflected in the glass. “I'm gonna call Ronnie."

  Patty latched onto a belt loop on his shorts and clung to him, dragging Lucky Pup along as she stuck with her brother like glue the couple steps over to the phone.

  Lee picked up the receiver and put it to his ear holding it in place with his shoulder, assuming a perfect imitation of his dad's posture while at the phone. Even though he knew it by heart, he was so rattled, he had to think for a moment to organize the number in his mind.

  "Regency 3-962,” Lee thought out loud. He stuck a finger in the dial's PQRS hole and zipped it around clockwise. No sooner had he let go than he was blasted away from the receiver by a tremendous shriek, which pealed out through the earpiece. It was a man's scream, not hurt but angry. With the scream the T.V. screen went black, and with it disappeared the image reflected in the picture's glass.

  Patty reacted with a frightened screech of her own.

  Stunned, the receiver slipped from Lee's grasp. It hit the wall and spun around dangling by the cord, wisps of smoke issuing from the tiny holes in the black, plastic earpiece.

  Patty pointed and screamed. “It's on fire!"

  Lee reached out reflexively, grabbing at the dangling receiver.

  "Ah!” He jerked his fingers back. “It's hot!"

  He grabbed at it. Juggling the thing, like a hot potato, Lee somehow managed to flip it back into its cradle. Just as he did, the horrific screaming and smoking ceased, only to be followed by a voice, which echoed loudly, seeming to move around the room, as if coming from within the walls.

  "Be still!” the voice ordered. Then more softly, “You better be very still if you know what's good for you."

  Both kids looked at one another. Patty's mouth was hanging open, and Lucky Pup, gripped by an ear, was dragging on the floor.

  The hollow syllables of what sounded like a grown man's mutterings were what they were hearing. Slowly, though, and with both kids standing frozen where they were, the sound defined itself into recognizable words. Each clipped syllable was exacting, meticulous, as though whoever was speaking had been momentarily distracted, but was now focused while engaged in some delicate activity.

  "Come, come,” Lee could hear quite clearly. “You know you're only making it worse for yourself. See! See!” it admonished. “There now, that hurt didn't it? I told you. I warned you. You have only yourself to blame for not keeping still.” The words resounded from everywhere yet nowhere. And though Lee could hear it, the voice didn't sound exactly real, resembling more the scratchy sounds from an old recording, like a Victrola or something like that. But even with the surreal nature of the sound there was no mistaking the sharp tang of a heavy, northeastern accent.

  "Alright now,” the voice continued. “You might want to hold your breath; this is going to sting a bit.” There was a bit of heavy silence, which didn't sound right in itself, and then the words which followed melted, reducing to a deeply masculine mumble of gibberish, nonsensical nearwords, rising and falling in timbre as though the Victrola was winding down. With this, a new sound was emerging. Carried in the background, muddled into the rumbling of
the incoherent male bass tones came a rising moan. It was a sorrowful sound and laced with short bursts of quickly unintelligible cries, sounding like frantic pleas, sad, pitiful, and filled with hysteria, hopelessness and pain.

  Patty let out a gasp, and looked to Lee wide eyed. “Lee, who's that crying?"

  "Hush, Patty!” He held a finger to his lips. “Come here. Stay close to me."

  Patty lost no time running up. And with the arm that wasn't holding Lucky Pup, Patty clenched herself around Lee's leg and stared up at him. “Lee?” her little voice cracked. “What's going on? I'm scared, Lee. I'm scared."

  Lee looked down to his little sister. There was no escaping the fright in her eyes. But that wasn't the worst of it. Just then it hit him. That smell was back, worse than ever. The reek was strong, pungent, nauseous. To his horror, he realized he could taste the stench of rotting meat as much as he could smell it.

  "Lee,” Patty whined, “something stinks."

  "Shhh!” he hushed. “Do you feel it? I can feel it.” He gripped her shoulder. “It's gonna happen again!"

  "What-?"

  Cutting Patty off, a hissing sounded, and suddenly, a split second later, every light bulb sounded that peculiar “tink,” and the house went dark, absolutely and utterly black. Then, if this wasn't enough, startling them both even more, the T.V. burst back to life, splattering the room with a bizarre strobing effect, with bright pulses flickering and flashing dizzingly from the screen.

  Patty, terrified, cried one long shriek, “Leeeee!"

  Lee, though, didn't react to his sister's cry. He was frozen where he stood by the appearance of an image in each and every pane of glass.

  There was no coherent picture on the TV screen to be reflected, only a rapid-fire flashes and seething, angry static. Yet from every glass pane in every picture frame and in all the windows there was mirrored a horrifically vivid scene, which could never have been publicly aired. It was a view, a window into some dark place, lit only by a few yellowishly smoldering lanterns hanging upon earthen walls.

  As if it wasn't so much images, but more like reality, there was terrible detail, even color. Burned into the flashes, like an animation, the scene drew itself out of the darkness as Patty ceased her shriek and joined Lee gaping in silence.