by Peter Sacco
“Oh damn! Here we go again,” he moaned under his breath. It couldn’t be. He had not even dosed into a deep sleep yet, and it was happening all over again. Billy was scared. He wondered what he would find in the closet tonight. Maybe a cherry tree?
Thud! He heard it. It was definitely coming from the closet. Billy’s eyes were locked on the doorknob like guided missiles. Should he get up, or hide under the covers. Decisions, decisions. The only thought going through his mind was to get the hell out of the room, then get out of the house and then maybe the state.
“First things first,” he whispered.
Slowly, Billy placed his right foot on the floor to test the waters. He could feel the floor under his foot. He could feel the pins and needles screaming within his flesh. With his foot firmly planted, he could feel no one grabbing at it. The bogeyman beneath the bed had not chewed it off.
“Now for the other,” he sang in a soft song.
Just as his left foot made contact with the floor, another sound could be heard stirring in the closet. Billy froze. Staring at the closet, a strange feeling starting to burn within. It was a feeling of rage. Whatever was in his closet was really starting to piss him off. This was his bedroom and this was his house. He was the man of the house and whatever was in the closet had no right being there.
Billy stood for a moment at attention, staring at the closet. He turned on his night light. He was going to march towards the closet and tear open that damn door. Unfortunately however, the feeling of fear was returning and superseding his feelings of anger. Rather than storming towards the closet like a German panzer, Billy crept hesitantly. As he drew closer, he could hear some sort of breathing sound coming from the closet. He could feel the sweat burning the palms of his hands like hot wax. The pins and needles in his feet were now nails and drill bits. He was almost there! His heart, however, was motioning below the loft to the bedroom door. He could turn and be out of the room in no time. He would be like his favorite hero, the Flash. He could disappear until the morning and return when the sun came up. The closet would be quiet in the morning.
Billy, however, would have to relive this experience night after night until he opened that damn door. Billy’s feet skidded across the floor until he was standing face to face with the door. He was there. His mission was almost complete. Now for the hard part. Billy struggled to get his fingers to become nimble, so as to cup them to turn the knob. Slowly his palm turned over and he could feel the tongue of the door sliding from the slot. The door could now be pulled open. Before Billy had time to mull it over, he yanked the door open and nearly shit his drawers. There was a loud “boo” followed by giggling sounds. Billy stood frozen staring into the closet with his tongue hanging out. He could not believe it.
Clair stared at Billy with a sheepish grin on her face. Billy struggled for words. “What are you doing?” Billy moaned.
“Gottcha, didn’t I?” chuckled Clair.
“You bugger,” accused a dismayed Billy. “Get out of here.”
Clair stepped out of the closet and sat on the end of Billy’s bed.
“It was you all the long?” moaned Billy.
Clair couldn’t refrain from laughing. “Yeah. So?”
Billy sat on the bed next to her and shook his head in disappointment. “Get out of my room. I want to go to sleep.”
Clair stopped laughing and got off of the side of the bed. “Don’t be a spoil-sport,” smiled Clair. “I scared you, didn’t I?”
“Yeah, whatever,” answered Billy, less than amused. Billy just stared at her and switched off his night light.
“I thought nothing scared you, Billy?”
He crawled underneath the covers and faced the other side of the room. “Close the door when you leave.”
“Don’t be a spoil-sport, Bill. I just came to bring you Emerald, or did you forget?”
Billy rolled over and faced her. She held the cat out to him. The cat had a stunned look on its face. “Give him to me and go before you wake mom.”
“Mom’s not home,” she said, as she handed him the cat.
“She isn’t?” Billy asked inquisitively.
“She went out with the ladies from her work.”
Billy hugged the cat tightly and turned over and faced the other side of the room. He was still a little disgruntled with his sister because of the latest stunt she pulled. “Well, good night,” quipped a dejected Billy.
***
Billy and Jerry Webb did their high wire act along a four foot cement wall which enclosed the parks and recreation center. It was a very hot and sticky August afternoon. They had just come from their junior high school. It was the day to pick up their schedules. Their new school year loomed very near. Just a few more days until the first day of school.
Something had been bothering Billy. He walked the journey homeward bound in his own little world. It happened the other night. Clair had really given him the scare of his life. There was no high fiber diet in the world could have given his bowels the coaster ride they had experienced. But that wasn’t it. Sure he was still a little sore at her, but there was something about night in the closet. He wasn’t sure if he had dreamed it or not, but he could have sworn he saw a large shadow behind his sister as he opened closet door. It all happened so fast, but something moved behind his sister when the light from his night light shed some light in the closet. It had to be his imagination, but he doubted it. Damn it, there was something in there!
Oh yes, Emerald was also gone. File a missing cat report.
Billy slept better than he hoped for that evening and remembered seeing the cat in the morning prior to leaving for school. He vaguely remembered opening the closet door and seeing the cat make a mad dash in. Perhaps curiosity killed the cat. He was late in the morning for school and had to rush. The window in his bedroom was also open. The cat probably had its fill of the Thomas clan and went for a walk-about. At least that was the story he told Clair, who was quite upset with the situation. She had grown very fond of Emerald and now he was missing. She continued to look around the house for him, but remained quite conspicuous so as not to let her mother find out. She couldn’t rat on Billy about the cat because she was not supposed to have a cat anyway. Billy could no longer rat on her for having a cat. However, he wasn’t free of the verbal threats and pressure Clair was putting on him. He really believed the cat left the house, however there was a dark shadow of doubt which hung over him like an ominous cloud. What if whatever was in the closet got Emerald? He didn’t dare tell Clair the cockamamie story. The window explanation would have to do and hopefully they would both believe it.
“So you think that you’ll like school here?” Jerry asked.
Billy did not hear him.
“Hello! Earth to Billy. Come in.”
Billy gazed at Jerry puzzled. “What?”
“Whoever you saw there, she must have been nice,” Jerry teased.
“Who?” asked a bewildered Billy.
“Awe, forget it. You’re in your own little world, Thomas.”
Billy stopped and stared at Jerry. He took a deep breath and swallowed. “I’m going to tell you something, and if you laugh Webb, I’ll smack you so hard.” Confused, Jerry stared at Billy and nodded his head. Hesitantly, Billy struggled for words. “Remember when you asked me if I’d seen any ghosts?” Jerry’s gaze grew intense. “Well, something strange has been going on in the house.”
“You’ve seen a ghost!” pondered an intense Jerry.
Billy shakes his head and sighs. “No, I haven’t seen a ghost. But there was a shadow in my closet.”
Jerry stared at Billy in somewhat disbelief. He felt betrayed Billy had gotten his hopes up about a ghost story, but there would be no ghost. “A shadow?” Jerry asked with skepticism. Jerry leaned forward on the wall, casting his shadow onto the sidewalk below. “Is this y
our ghost Thomas?” joked Jerry pointing to his shadow.
He shook his head and jumped down from the wall, as it had descended almost to street level. He stared at Billy waiting for him to continue his shadow story, however, Billy walked away. He shrugged and walked after Billy.
“Oh, come on Thomas. I was only kidding.”
Billy ignored him and kept walking.
“I said I was sorry.” pleaded Jerry.
Billy stopped and turned to him. “You can be a real asshole at times.”
“So my parents tell me,” smiled a glum Jerry.
Billy turned up the intensity in his facial expressions once more. “There were footprints made out of snow in my closet.”
Suddenly, Jerry felt horror pains shoot up his spine and his lips grew numb.
“There was also a pine cone and a blue spruce branch in the closet,” continued Billy.
Jerry shook his head in disbelief. “Come on, let’s go,” he said as he tugged Billy’s shirt sleeve.
“Where?” asked a puzzled Billy.
“To my house. I have something I think you should see.” The two of them took off in the direction of Jerry’s house.
In Jerry’s father’s garage, Jerry sifted through boxes of newspapers strewn about on old wooden shelves. Billy studied the selection of rusted and corroded car parts strategically ordered throughout the garage. Jerry almost fell backwards as a box nearly fell into his head. The stale, damp, musty odor of a mechanic’s garage finally started to overcome Billy’s sinuses. The collection of dust did not help his allergies either.
“Here it is!” shrieked Jerry. Jerry pulled down the box, almost toppling him over. “It’s in here!” exclaimed Jerry.
Jerry threw the box to the floor and pulled out a handful of newspapers. Briefly, he glanced over it and shuddered. Billy watched the expressions on Jerry’s face as he read it himself. “Here,” sighed Jerry as he handed Billy the newspaper.
Billy snatched the paper in his hands and began to read the article. His mouth gaped open in awe. Since language arts was not one of Billy’s stronger subjects, he found some of the words difficult to understand. All and all, he definitely got the gist of the article. Jerry grabbed the paper from Billy’s hands and flipped it over to another paper taped to it. The paper contained a couple of headlines and a picture of a painting. The headlines read:
LOCAL ARTIST TALKS TO DEAD DAD IN CLOSET, GHOST DAD RESIDES IN HOUSE CLOSET
The picture in the paper was one of Sarah Miller’s last pieces of work. The painting depicted Miller sitting in a closet doorway, watching an older bearded man coming through the back wall of the closet holding a hatchet. Billy put down the paper and felt the goose bumps on his body grow into tire treads.
“It can’t be,” Billy whispered.
Jerry stared at Billy and nodded his head.
“The shadow,” Billy gulped.
Clair struggled to get Billy’s closet door open. It seemed to be wedged shut as a result of the abnormal amount of perspiration in the wood. The weather had been extremely hot and humid lately, and it seemed everything in the Thomas household had been undergoing some sort of expansion. Finally, with a hard tug, the closet door flew open. Clair had lost her locket and thought to look in the closet, as it may have fallen off the other night when she was in the closet spooking Billy. She had looked everywhere and could not find it. She did, however, remember feeling something tug at the back of her neck. It must have been the clasp of her chain catching on something. Perhaps her chain lay somewhere on the closet floor. On her tip toes, Clair leaned forward and screwed the light bulb in. She wanted to hurry before Billy returned home. If he caught her in the closet, he would definitely flip. At once the closet became filled with light. Clair glanced down at the floor and saw something glisten at the base of the red brick wall. Her heart-shaped locket.
“There it is,” sighed Clair.
Clair reached down to pick up the locket, but it appeared to be stuck. On her hands and knees, she noticed something very strange. The locket was resting against the wall as she had seen, however the chain disappeared underneath the wall.
“What in the world?” snorted Clair.
She tried to pull the locket up, but it was still wedged under the wall. She could see the loop of the chain disappearing beneath the wall. All she could think about was Billy. He did this to get even. “You jerk, Billy,” she said under her breath.
Clair almost toppled over, as the weight of her body began to overwhelm her ankles. Her hands slapped up against the brick wall. They started to tingle. Clair pulled her hands back sharply. The wall was as cold as ice. What the heck is going on? she thought to herself.
The damn wall was frozen like an iceberg, and the locket her grandmother had given her was wedged underneath the wall. Just as Clair was about to give up and get up, she heard the strangest sound. It was a whirling wind sound. This was getting too strange for her. To heck with the chain, she thought.
Just as Clair stammered to her feet, the wind grew and she could feel something tugging at her ankles. She wanted to scream, but couldn’t pry her lips apart. Fear raced through her veins. Something had a hold of her. She had to scream. And she did! Just as the closet door blew shut.
***
Billy and Jerry raced back to the Thomas house. It was mid-afternoon and Billy’s mother was working late that evening. Billy wanted to do this while his mother wasn’t around. Hopefully, Clair would be out with the guy who had been phoning her around the clock. Billy had only met him once, and already knew he didn’t like him. However, if it kept his sister away, then he wasn’t quite so bad. They ran to the back door. It was locked. Billy took the key from the top of the window. His mother had hidden it there for Clair and him. Rather than give Billy a key and have him lose it, Jean thought this was the best way. Billy turned the door knob and the two were inside. They raced to Billy’s room. Billy stopped to glance in Clair’s room and was delighted to see she was out. The two of them entered Billy’s bedroom and came to an abrupt stop in front of the closet, as if they had run into a force shield. Jerry glanced at Billy and swallowed. All right, they were here.
Jerry lifted up his shirt and pulled out a small paper book from his shorts. He handed it to Billy, who grabbed it from his hands. Billy stared at the cover before opening it. The title of the book was UNLOCKING THE DOOR TO THE FOURTH DIMENSION. Billy shuffled through the book quickly and stopped at the page which had a black and white picture of people traversing through a brick wall.
“That’s the one,” moaned Jerry.
“But how?” asked a curious Billy.
Jerry grabbed the book from Billy and pointed to a paragraph in the book. “Right here, Billy. It says every hour, on the hour.”
“I don’t get it,” shrugged Billy.
“Don’t ask me. I didn’t write it.”
“It says something about it happening every third.”
“Every third what?” asked Jerry.
“Yeah. I don’t get it.”
“They must mean every fourth month,” nodded Jerry.
“Every fourth month?”
“Yeah, January to April is four. May to August is four.”
“And we’re in August now. The fourth month,” interrupted Billy.
“And the newspaper articles were dated in the months of December and April,” added Jerry.
“The other fourth months,” gulped Billy.
Jerry looked at the closet door and his small body quivered momentarily.
“Are you going to open the door?” asked a beleaguered Jerry.
“I suppose so,” answered Billy with a somber stare.
Slowly, Billy opened the closet door. Jerry stepped back, expecting something to happen. Nothing did. They stood still for a moment and all was quiet. The silence was suddenly
broken by a barking dog. Jerry nearly shit himself. The two smiled at each other in relief, but were still very fearful. Billy stepped into the closet, much to Jerry’s displeasure and switched on the light bulb. Strange, but the light bulb felt warm. Billy tried to discard the warmth as sweat from the palm of his hand. He stepped out of the closet and grabbed the book back from Jerry. “What do we do now?” asked Billy.
“Wait until four o’clock and read the formula in the book.” responded Jerry.
“Oh,” answered a tense Billy.
The boys gazed intensely at the book and occasionally deviated to sneak a peek at Billy’s watch. Jerry glanced into the closet, shook his head and swallowed.
The book was a detailed account of a medium’s experiences beyond our world, the third dimension. According to the medium, one was able to communicate with those on a higher plane. One must first find the door to the third dimension. In the boys’ case, it was the closet wall. Secondly, one must wait until the hour to recite the incantation supplied in the book. Once the incantation had been recited, one must then enter the door to the fourth dimension. The purpose in going to the fourth dimension was to stop whatever spirit had been coming to the house. This was done by reciting a further incantation in the domain of the spirit, as supplied in the book. The traveler, or travelers in this case, must also bring a photograph of the believed- to-be spirit. The boys believed the man in the pictures was the spirit. And then anxiety struck an all-time high.
