“Remember the man in the sun?” Ray asked. “Remember I told you I saw him when I was a kid? Right here, I—I saw him right here. He was different, Seth, he wasn’t one of them, not really. I wanted to go with him but I couldn’t, I couldn’t. He told me I couldn’t because if I did then he wouldn’t be there…right there…right then…and neither would I. He told me to hide. He told me to hide. The man in the sun told me to—”
“Come on,” Seth said, no longer able to cope with his brother’s incoherent rambling. He reached down, took Raymond’s hand. “I’ll take you to Nana’s.”
Raymond snapped to attention like a child promised chocolate. “Nana’s?”
“Would you like that?” he asked, struggling to hold himself together. What had been broken for so long now seemed beyond repair. His brother had been teetering on the edge of a precipice for years, and now he had finally stepped off. Or maybe he’d been pushed. Either way, he was gone, what little was left of him prior finally snapped and destroyed by all this madness, the weight of which he could no longer bear. “We’ll go back to Nana’s and you can stay with her a while, OK?”
“Nana’s.” He nodded, a smile slowly surfacing. “OK.”
Seth helped him up, put an arm around his shoulder, and together they walked back across the same field they had so many times in the past run across in abject terror. The terror remained, of course, as did the memories the house and field and forest held for them and always would, but as they crossed the backyard and headed for the street, Seth hesitated just long enough to look back one last time.
He knew they would never again return to this cradle of memory, this place that for so long had kept their secrets. Because like so much else it was now lost to them. Forever.
CHAPTER 23
On their way out of town they stopped for a red light at a large intersection. Within seconds two police cruisers charged through the intersection but flew right by them, lights blazing and sirens howling. Darian slumped a bit in the passenger seat as Seth watched them in the rear view. They quickly disappeared over a bend on their way to the house. In the backseat Raymond remained quiet, preoccupied, eyes staring and fixed on the mayhem playing across the dark stages of his mind.
“I hope that old lady didn’t get your plate,” Darian said.
“I doubt it.” Seth pulled out as the light changed, turned onto the highway on-ramp and headed back for Boston. “But at this point we can’t worry about it.”
“Can’t worry about it? That stolen car was—”
“I’m heading back home,” he interrupted. “We’ll figure things out when we get there.” He tightened his grip on the steering wheel, increased speed then checked his watch. Still early, traffic through the city would be light. Once through to the other side he’d head south and return to his apartment building. “I’ll grab Ray’s things,” he said, lowering his voice so only he and Darian would hear it clearly. “And we’ll bring him to my grandmother’s on the cape.”
Through slushy snow and set against a dark gray sky, the cityscape of Boston loomed before them as they drove up over the expressway. Seth switched lanes and skirted the city proper, following the tunnel and another stretch of highway to the Route 3 split. No one spoke another word until they reached the apartment building.
Seth parked the car in the first open space he could find. “I’ll be right out.”
He dashed across the lot, and once inside his apartment, brushed the snow and water from his coat then ducked into the bathroom to grab a towel for Raymond. Once in the living room he grabbed Raymond’s duffel bag and Darian’s briefcase and was about to head back for the car when he noticed the display on his answering machine flashing 2.
He put the things down and hit the play button.
“Seth, hi,” a deep, detached voice he recognized as his boss Bill Jacobs said through the small speaker. “We’ve of course heard about Louis and I know you two were close so I just wanted to—on behalf of the entire department, of course—pass along my thoughts and prayers regarding that situation. Also, Accounting called looking for Darian Stone and was wondering if perhaps you knew where he was. Under the circumstances and with the whole Louis thing, no one’s upset, just worried. No one’s seen or heard from Darian, and apparently they’ve tried calling his home phone and cell but haven’t heard back from him. If you know how he can be reached give Dave Radcliff over in Accounting a buzz and let him know. Thanks. And I need you to give me a call too, at your absolute earliest convenience, all right? It’s imperative that we discuss a few things before the conclusion of your vacation. OK, great. Take care, talk soon.”
A loud beep sounded and after a moment the second message began to play.
“Hey, it’s me, Ruthie. Give me a call when you get a chance, OK? I’m at work but if you can’t call until after five that’s cool, you can get me at home. I’ll be around.” A few seconds of dead air followed, and then: “It’s important, Seth, OK? Call me.”
Seth thought it odd that Ruthie would call him at home, and her antics were about the last thing he had time for at the moment, but there was something unusual in her tone, something uncharacteristic that sounded almost like fear. He grabbed a pen and small pad from a nearby end table and jotted down her home number as she recited it. Stuffing the paper in his pocket, he next cycled through the calls on his caller ID unit and realized that the call from Bill Jacobs had come in the day before. Ruthie’s call had been two days prior and he’d just not seen it with all that had been going on.
He picked up the phone and first called the hospital.
Louis was still alive and still listed as critical.
Seth then called work.
“Severance Corporation, how may I direct your call?”
“Bill Jacobs, please.”
After a series of clicks his secretary answered. “Good afternoon, Bill Jacobs’s office.”
“Judy, Seth Roman returning Bill’s call. Is he available?”
“Yes, he just got out of a meeting. One moment, Mr. Roman, I’ll transfer you.”
After what seemed like an inordinately long time, Bill Jacobs finally came on the line. “Seth, it’s Bill, hi. Listen, I was so sorry to hear about Louis over in Shipping. My God, what a terrible thing, how is he?”
“Still listed as critical,” Seth answered. “I just got your message, sorry it took me so long to get back to you but—”
“No, no, that’s fine. First, any word on Darian? They still haven’t heard from him.”
He hesitated only long enough to make a quick decision as to what his answer would be. “I haven’t heard from him since yesterday myself. Last I knew he was going home to be with Cynthia and his daughter. If he’s not there maybe they all went to his parents’ house.”
“Right, OK, well if you hear from him have—”
“Yeah, I’ll have him call in. Was there anything else, Bill? I’m kind of right in the middle of some personal business at the moment.”
A long pause followed, and for a time all Seth heard was shallow breathing.
“Look,” Jacobs eventually said, “I know you’re on vacation and it’s been a tough couple days with the Louis situation and all, but I need to discuss a few things with you. It’s important Seth or obviously I wouldn’t bother you at a time like this.”
“OK, what is it?”
“Why don’t you come in and we’ll talk about it?
“You mean today?”
“That’d be super.”
“I’m kind of busy, Bill, I—”
“It won’t take long but it’s important.”
“Is everything all right?”
“Everything here’s fine. But we need to talk and I really don’t want to get into it over the telephone.”
Seth checked his watch. “Give me a few hours and I’ll be there.”
“Andrea’s throwing a dinner party tonight so I’m leaving at five on the button and—”
“I’ll be there before five, Bill.”
&
nbsp; “Super. Talk to you then.”
Seth hung up, went to the bedroom and found a fresh shirt. About the last thing he needed at this point was Bill Jacobs’s bullshit, but he figured if he didn’t stay long at Nana’s after dropping off Raymond, he could be back in Boston before five and find out what was so damned important. As he tossed his soaked shirt aside and pulled on the fresh one, he contemplated calling Ruthie back but decided to save time and just talk to her when he got to the office.
As he left the building and headed across the parking lot, he saw Darian step out of the car, close his door and walk around the front of the car, nervously glancing back through the windshield at Raymond, who was still in the backseat.
“They’re looking for you at work.” Seth handed him his briefcase. “I lied, said I hadn’t seen you since yesterday, figured you could call in if and when you felt like it.”
“Thanks,” he said awkwardly, taking the case.
“Bill Jacobs is insisting I come in and talk to him about something.”
“What the hell does he want?”
“Who knows?” Seth shrugged, walked around to the trunk, opened it and tossed Raymond’s duffel inside. “I told him I’d be there in a few hours. By the time we drop Raymond off and get back there’ll still be time to—”
“I’m not going.”
“Then you can stay on cape with Raymond but I told him I’d be in.”
“No,” Darian said. “I mean, I’m not going with you.”
Seth slammed the trunk closed. “What are you talking about?”
Darian hugged himself and looked to the sky. The snow was changing, becoming thicker and fluffier as the last remnants of rain retreated. Large flakes suddenly filled the air, flitting about all around them. “Seth, I need to be with my wife and daughter. I need to be with Cynthia and Debra.”
“I’m not sure that’s the best idea right now.”
“It very well may not be, but I have to go home.”
Seth watched him through the sea of snowflakes. He’d never seen him look quite so defeated and drawn. He reminded him of a pummeled boxer unable to answer the bell and opting to remain on his stool. He pictured him for a moment as he’d looked so many years before as the best man at his and Peggy’s wedding, and how he’d so graciously stepped in when Raymond didn’t make it. But the memory was short-lived, because remembering such things also forced him to remember Peggy on that day as well, and at the moment it was simply too much for him to endure. All the happiness, the purity of that day and the promise it held seemed little more than a fading dream, a storybook tale not quite as real as it seemed when told over time, remembered and reflected upon. “There’s no way to tell for sure what’ll be waiting there for you,” he said.
“I know,” Darian said. “But whatever this is, I have to face it with them, not running away or leaving them on their own. I’ve got to make sure they’re all right. If something happened to them and I could’ve prevented it by being there I’d never forgive myself. I need to be with them. It’s where I belong.” His entire body trembled. “I’m Debra’s father, her daddy. I’m supposed to protect her and keep her from harm no matter what. That’s what daddies do. No matter what, I have to be there to make it right, or what the hell good am I?”
Seth offered his hand. “Good luck, man.”
“You too.” Darian took his hand, shook it slowly.
An empty hush filled the air. Even nearby traffic sounds softened, and they stood quietly in the parking lot, hands still joined, the snow falling heavily now, accumulating and turning the world white.
“We had some good times over the years, didn’t we?”
Though the smile on Seth’s face didn’t last long, it was accompanied by the first genuine feeling of happiness he’d felt in recent memory. But it too withered quickly. “Some real good times, Mother, some real good times.”
Though neither man spoke again, they searched each other’s eyes in the way good friends often do, and the rest of what both men felt and needed to say was realized and understood amidst the silence of a cold, quiet, sad winter day.
PART FOUR: TALK OF WOLVES
“We are dealing with a yet unrecognized level of consciousness, independent of man but closely linked to the earth…Human beings are under the control of a strange force that bends them in absurd ways, forcing them to play a role in a bizarre game of deception.”
—Dr. Jacques Vallee, Confrontations, Messengers of Deception
CHAPTER 24
Of all the memories Seth had of growing up and spending time with his parents, most involved his mother. Despite his somewhat avant-garde personality, after Raymond’s problems as a child began, more often than not their father seemed to exist on the periphery of their daily lives. But then, Raymond’s tribulations had caused changes in all of them, and to some extent altered their entire family structure. Because it involved recognizing and coming to terms with certain facts he was still not comfortable with—for Seth specifically—their family dynamic had never been something he’d spent a great deal of time thinking about. And yet now, driving through the mounting snow toward their grandmother’s house, he could think of nothing but.
Raymond was not quite nine years old the first time he went away. Seth was just thirteen. His parents told Seth they had taken his little brother to see sleep specialists, doctors who could help him solve the night terrors problem. When they left early one morning Seth was told all three would be back later that same day, but when they returned it was without Raymond.
His mother, already in tears when they got home, hurried by Seth and disappeared into her bedroom without a word, leaving him and his father alone in the kitchen.
He remembered how deathly quiet the kitchen was that late and dreary afternoon.
His father, with an uncharacteristic scowl, eventually went to the refrigerator and found a bottle of beer. He drank most of it before he made it to the table and sat down. “Your mother’s upset,” he said flatly. “She’ll be OK.”
“Where’s Ray?”
“He had to stay with the doctors a while.” He took another swig of beer. “It’s not safe for Raymond to be having these attacks, or whatever they are, Seth. Thing is, he could hurt himself running around in that state.”
“When’s he coming home?”
“Soon, son, real soon—couple weeks.”
Seth had never been apart from his brother more than a day or two. Visions of this vague place he’d been taken to and what went on there filled his head and set his imagination running wild. “Why does he have to be there so long?”
“Well, because they have to watch him sleep—monitor it, they call it—and they have these machines that let them watch his brain patterns and whatnot. I don’t fully understand it all myself, son, but they need to keep an eye on him for a bit so they can figure out what’s wrong. Once they know, they can help him, see?”
Neither spoke for a long while.
“Is Ray going to be OK?”
His father gave a strong nod, as if the force of his conviction could make it so. He finished his beer then held the bottle before him like it warranted study. “He’s going to be just fine, don’t you worry.”
“How come you didn’t tell Ray he was going to be gone so long?”
“We didn’t know.” The last word snagged in his throat. “We have to pack some of his things and bring them to him tonight.” He put the bottle aside, folded his hands together and leaned into the table, closer to Seth. “Son, I know you’ve seen this stuff with Ray up-close. You’ve followed him out back, been there with him. We’ve all seen it and know how scary it is. Ray needs help before this gets too out of hand. Believe me, I hate turning him over to those guys too, you know I’ve always preached to you boys to be your own people and never trust The Man, but hell, son, there’s not much else I know to do at this point.” He attempted a relaxed posture but his awkward hesitation and the deep look of concern on his face betrayed him. “Son, I’m going to ask yo
u something, and I need you to tell me the truth, OK? It’s very important that you be totally honest with me on this.”
“OK.”
“Have you had nightmares like this too?”
Seth thought on it a moment. “I get scared sometimes when he has them.”
“That’s not what I mean. You’re always with him, I just want to—it’s important that—Seth they told us—the doctors, I mean—they told us it’s important to find out if you’re having problems like this too, OK? The two of you always end up outside when this happens, now is that because he wakes you and you follow him, or is it because the same things are happening to you?”
“I told you and Mom before that Raymond has the nightmares, Dad, not me.”
“Thing is, these problems can be hereditary, meaning they can—”
“I know what hereditary means.”
“Sorry, I—yeah, of course you do.”
“I don’t get them too, OK?”
“OK.” His father’s normally playful eyes were dull and red and lost. His long and unruly hair and bushy mustache had both been neatly groomed and combed into place, and even his clothing was different on this day. Always clad in either jeans or work clothes, on this day he’d worn a pair of penny loafers and khaki pants with an oxford shirt. He’d even taken the earring out of his right ear. But he was fooling no one, least of all Seth. “I forget how fast you’re growing sometimes,” he said thoughtfully. “It’s hard for a father to see his kids objectively. You’ll know what I mean one day when you have your own children. Hell, when I look at you I still see a little boy. But it’s time I started treating you like a young man. And I want you to act like a young man, too, and to know it’s OK to tell me the truth, son. In fact it’s real important that you do.”
“I am telling you the truth, Dad.”
“Have you been having headaches?”
“No.”
“Do you ever smell freaky odors, hear things inside your head or see things, like funny colors or—”
Deep Night Page 24
