IMPERFECT ORB

by K. Lorel Reid

  Off to his right he had heard the snapping of branches and the rustling of leaves. Then far up ahead a shadow detached itself from the brush that ran alongside the path. The figure was too far away and the night too dark for David to make out what it was. It had managed, even so, to stop the teenagers in their tracks. Samantha had seen it as well.

  From where he stood David saw only a dark shadow in the night. Its shape was awkward, its size small, its stench unbelievable. And that’s when David knew: It was the smell that had pressed up against the fresh air, now broken through to reach the surface; worse than the smell of death, it was the smell of something that should have died a long time ago but never quite did.

  David had been squinting in order to see exactly what the thing blocking their path was, but very quickly that was no longer necessary. The shadow began to move towards them. Short, twisted feet took a series of quick, small steps but then in a blur the creature was down on all fours, covering twice the distance in half the time. The figure quickly neared and David saw that what it wore for flesh was in fact a scaly armour. Its head was a perfect sphere and appeared disproportionately large compared to its sinewy body. Its eyes glowed a sharp diamond-like white, a glassy white that David had seen before but couldn’t remember where. The irises were a pale blue and they, too, sparked and flickered when hit by the struggling moonlight.

  As the creature neared, the night came alive with loud, shrill screams. The screams were coming from Samantha and standing right beside her David found them to be a disorienting assault on his ear drums. Her screams came pouring out one after another, sounding like the shrill blast of a whistle. He felt like shoving Samantha away from him; shoving her to the ground then turning to run.

  What was he thinking? He couldn’t leave Samantha her with … that.

  In an instant a newspaper headline, in the font of the Ceedon’s Valley Evening Harold, flashed before his eyes. It read, ‘Local Teens Found Mauled to Death in Apparent Animal Attack (By Vicki Wyles)’. He was mentally going through the catalogue of animals he knew to inhabit the woods, trying to place what was before him without success. Suddenly he knew with a certainty what had happened to those missing tourists unlucky enough never to be found.

  It was frustrating. David knew he had to focus and decide on a plan of action but he just couldn’t bring himself to do anything other than stare at the creature fast approaching. Should he grab Samantha by the arm, turn around and run? No, whatever that thing was it moved quickly and David doubted he could outrun it, not to say anything of Samantha. Should he start waving around a stick in hopes of scaring it away? David doubted that would work. The thing coming at them appeared wild and crazy, unpredictable and not easily frightened by a waving stick. The thought of having to fight it sent shivers running down David’s spine.

  In one, two seconds max, the creature had travelled metres and was now closing the last bit of distance between it and the pair of teenagers. It got back onto two legs and began taking those quick, little steps. Coming closer still David saw — and he was sure, by the ever-increasing volume of Samantha’s screams, that Samantha did too — a wide slit, which sat low on its sphere of a head, part to reveal a mouthful of horribly discoloured teeth, glinting in the faltering moonlight.

  They had to get out of there. David knew this. Mentally he screamed at himself to run! but when he tried to scream the same thing aloud to Samantha he realized that he was really and truly paralyzed by fear. He wasn’t going anywhere. His mouth wouldn’t open; his eyes didn’t blink. Even the steady rising and falling of his chest ceased for a second; a second that seemed to unfurl in an agonizingly leisurely way.

  Samantha kept screaming.

  The music pouring out of the woods continued, indifferent.

  The creature stopped, uncertain.

  Why? David wondered. It was only inches away from them.

  Samantha continued to scream.

  The reptile’s white eyes gleamed. It shot a pained look Samantha’s way before it turned around. First taking those quick steps then getting down on all fours and vanishing into the night almost as quickly as it had arrived. As soon as it had vanished David’s chest began to rise and fall quickly, hungry for oxygen and billowing with relief.

  Samantha, on the other hand, continued to scream and David could’t help but wonder where she was pulling the energy from.

  Behind them there was a sound.

  The two jumped in unison and let out startled shouts.

  (The party in the woods blared on.)

  Together, slowly, the pair turned. At this sight Samantha began to cry.

  It was Mike.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Before Mike knew what was happening, Samantha fainted. His attention had been focused on whatever it was that was retreating into the darkness. When it almost could no longer be seen the creature disappeared beyond the trees — into the Drop. Snapping, rustling, breaking sounds drifted into the night air, faintly, like the ethereal smoke at the end of a magic act. Mike turned to David who was babbling, about what he couldn’t discern. The older boy’s face looked pale, sick; his eyes were large and prominent — the skin surrounding them sunken — and protruded in a way that was almost comical… if anything about the situation could be described as such. All in all it looked to Mike as though David was about to faint also. Mike ushered his delirious friend to the side of the path and forced him to sit on the grassy shoulder. Samantha still lay sprawled in the middle of the dirt road and after setting David down Mike went to get her next.

  When he arrived at her side Mike saw with relief that Samantha was beginning to regain consciousness. All he had to do was call her name and shake her lightly before her eyes fluttered opened. He helped her to her feet and walked her gently over to stand beside David.

  “What?” she asked in a hazy way. “What was that?”

  David recommenced babbling while Mike tried to answer that question for himself. What was that? He felt as though he knew of the creature he had glimpsed. Or he had known at one time, but now….

  His lips worked and Mike knew James was struggling to say something but he wouldn’t let him. David was right there, and so was Samantha. Now was not the time for James. Mike took a place between the two and half listened to David while his mind worked silently on his own thoughts. David was saying something about a creature.

  “It was scaly,” he told Mike, “and its eyes… eyes that….” he trailed off then began again. “Its skin was all scaly and it was small and it came from — ” David stopped. He lifted his head and looked across the path to where the Drop was screened with trees. A puzzled look came over his face and then he finished. “It came from out of nowhere.”

  David again bowed his head and when next he spoke his voice was quiet, calm and his head remained bowed. “Mike?” he questioned.

  Mike was too afraid to answer. He was uncertain of what the question would be. He didn’t like the idea of being asked a question he couldn’t answer.

  “Mike?” David spoke more forcefully.

  Mike swallowed then replied, “Yeah?”

  “What was that thing?”

  Mike thought about this — again, and when next he opened his mouth he surprised himself by stating the truth, “I don’t know,” he answered.

  Mike wasn’t looking at David but he knew David had again lifted his head and was looking at him. He could feel the blanket of his friend’s accusatory gaze threatening to smother him.

  “What do you mean you don’t know?”

  Mike swallowed. There was a lump in his throat. He swallowed again, trying to get rid of it. The lump didn’t go anywhere and he basically repeated his answer, “I mean I don’t know,” he said lightly, a nervous laugh escaping his lips.

  “But you have to know.” David jumped up and started pacing. His hands shook as he wrung his fingers. “You have to know,” he continued, “you know everything. Without even knowing, you know.” David sounded i
mpatient and agitated. As he talked spittle flew from his mouth. He seemed on the verge of descending into that incoherence again.

  In the gathering darkness Samantha watched Dave from where she stood beside Mike. She seemed to be still quite dazed. Her eyes appeared to be bleary and in them there was a far away look but not once did she take her gaze off of Dave. She seemed nervous. David’s behaviour was catching fast, even Mike began fidgeting.

  “Well,” Mike tried to explain, “I didn’t even see anything, really.”

  David stopped pacing. In the dark he turned, slowly. Grey moonlight illuminated one side of his face while hiding the other beneath a shroud of shadows. When he pulled at the corners of his lips a very cynical-looking smile appeared.

  “But you do know,” David persisted — stepping closer to Mike — that maniacal smile playing across his face. “You know because it went down there.” He pointed in the direction of the Drop.

  Mike again swallowed hard. All at once he was aware that the cool breeze had given way to a still humidity. Suddenly the night was too hot. He felt uncomfortably clammy.

  The clouds continued their slow march across the sky in a way that made the moonlit darkness appear charged with rabid madness. The moonlight made David look evil. It turned Samantha into a wraith: not quite there. Mike felt as though the moonlight was doing something awful; and wasn’t it now shining brighter than usual? He thought so. It was the moonlight, but what he had to deal with right now was David.

  “Look,” Mike spoke, not really looking at his friend, “there’s nothing in the Drop. I’ll even go down there and show you.” He held the small pink box of dessert close to him, not really remembering that he had it.

  David looked back at him, wondering if he was serious. At this hour? The darkness down there would be complete. If he hadn’t been scared out of his wits he would have offered Mike the opportunity for a gracious retreat. But he wasn’t feeling all that gracious at the moment. He called his friend’s bluff. “All right,” he told Mike, “you go ahead. We’ll wait for you here.”

  Mike nodded and was about to hand the pink box to David before deciding it would be better off in less shaky hands. He turned and physically maneuvered Samantha’s hands until she was holding it. She looked at it questioningly.

  “Just hold onto that for a second, I’ll be right back.”

  Without giving her the opportunity to reply Mike quickly made his way along the path, feeling in his jean pocket for the plastic lighter. Of course it was there. It had become part of his morning routine to stuff the lighter into a pocket after getting dressed. He was glad to find it there now.

  Mike walked close to the Drop and when he came to the entrance he compulsively looked both ways before going in. The path which lead down into the clearing was barely visible. All Mike could really make out were a multitude of awkward shapes, black against the ink blue darkness. A few of the shapes he recognized, most he did not. He supported himself against a tree trunk and removed the lighter from his pocket. Before he was given the chance to produce the small flame, Mike found himself stumbling down the steep hill. His hands were outstretched and his legs wobbled beneath him, undecided whether to collapse into the fall or try to retain his balance. He held onto the lighter for as long as he could but as he came to a stop at the bottom of the hill it went flying out of his hand. By the time he reached the bottom he was on all fours, facing the hill he had just tumbled down.

  Mike was still for a moment, wondering if any bones were still in place. Carefully he eased himself up. Both his hands and knees hurt, but other than that he was okay. The knees of his pants weren’t as fortunate. He’d have to come up with something to tell his mother. That was a bridge he’d cross when he got to it. His knowing was mostly back and that would make things a lot easier.

  Mike squinted into the darkness, looking for the lighter. He’d never been in the Drop after dark and now he looked around at everything carefully. What had once been familiar objects took on new and strange shapes in the near black. He turned and saw that small patch of light. Except it wasn’t sunlight. It was the shiny white light of the moon that had managed to penetrate the otherwise unbroken canopy of leaves. Mike looked at this for a long time before turning again in search of the plastic lighter.

  That was about when he realized something. He hadn’t noticed it before because it was something he was used to. But that something had disappeared for a short while. It had disappeared, but now it had returned. Mike moved one arm from left to right, apparently through empty space. But the air wasn’t empty at all. It was thick, alive, rich with something. Mike smiled. The air was thick with magic.

  He turned again, adoring the feel. All of a sudden he didn’t need James anymore, and from him his alter ego dropped, hard and fast like a cement block. Then, to startle and please him even more, behind his eyes, within his mind, Mike saw those colours. Different tints of a neutral feeling and when he again turned there it was. It came spinning towards him from the direction of the caves, and as the irregular glass ball moved it turned through the air, spinning off colours within Mike’s mind.

  The polyhedron stalled close to Mike while all the boy could do was stare, awed. Hadn’t that been destroyed? Hadn’t it been shattered into fine pieces? Mike was baffled by the whole turn of events, but still very pleased to see the object before him. It filled him with a sincere joy and without realizing the strangeness of it he took two steps without looking down and picked up the lighter at his feet.

  Michael smiled into the darkness and held out a hand, palm up. Sure enough the glass ball settled on it — tentatively. The shape was large and in the smallest way seemed a bit larger. His fingers could barely close around it, but Mike squeezed, gently, as much for his own comfort as for a sign of affection.

  The geometrical shape slowly moved in Mike’s hand and he let it go. It didn’t feel particularly warm, nor did it feel cold, but it did feel so very… alive. Mike was skeptical about that last part. He had been undecided about it for a long time. Sometimes that’s what it seemed like and because he didn’t know exactly what that shape was he had to accept it as a fact.

  Now, advancing slowly towards the caves Mike flicked on the lighter. He had come down the Drop in search of something. Although unclear about exactly what that something was he headed in that direction anyway. Whatever had gone into the Drop could be hiding anywhere amongst the trees and thus would remain undetected, but it wasn’t in the clearing so there was only one place left to look. The glow from the lighter was small but Mike knew the clearing well enough so it didn’t really matter. Carefully he picked his way beyond the wall of leaves. Unprepared, the boy was plunged into a darkness that the flame only lit scarcely. He eased up on his thumb and the flame went out. Mike reapplied the pressure. A few sparks flashed in the dark but there was no flame. He tried again, and again there were sparks: orange, dancing in the darkness momentarily before disappearing. Suddenly Mike became very nervous. He rolled the spark wheel and pushed down with his thumb again and to his relief, a small orange flame appeared. He had hoped to produce more light, but his fidgeting with the lighter hadn’t helped any. He was only able to see about six inches in front of him, and what he did see was obscured by a dark haze.

  The cave had a slight reek to it, but that was something Mike was used to. It was the same reek that at times penetrated outside the Drop. Like the polyhedron, the smell had gone away but had now returned, larger in the slightest way. Right now he would give it a six out of ten.

  Slowly Mike began walking through the cave. He wasn’t sure how far it went nor how many different passageways there were. But he kept on moving, taking a route he knew. Mike continued along the main passageway for what seemed to be at least twenty minutes. His thumb was starting to hurt and he saw that the flame was beginning to die. The lighter was almost completely out of fuel. He stopped walking and debated whether he should keep going or turn back. Easily he decided to turn back. His mother was w
aiting and there was obviously nothing in the caves. But hadn’t he…? No. He’d thought he had seen something, something he knew, but now he was uncertain.

  Mike turned carefully and positioned himself close to the wall. Having become accustomed to the darkness, he let the flame go out and used his fingertips to guide his way along. The wall was cold and felt to be a mixture of rock and clay. His fingers often met up with jagged edges and unexpected bumps but Mike continued to move, feeling his way through the black. Finally he stepped past the branches at the entrance and was once again within the obscured moonlight. He breathed in the air greedily and was grateful for the return of a cool breeze. He made his way across the clearing. It had become yet darker since he’d vanished within the caves and his head now dizzied with thoughts of his mother. She’d be furious, that was for sure. It would be the second time that Helen and her kid had come over with nothing to serve them. His mother, of course, would point that out as soon as the gossiping duo left.

  It took Mike twice as long as usual to make the climb up the steep hill. It was the darkness, obviously, but he felt it may also have been nerves. Every time he went to grab the dark shape of a tree root he’d miss. Finally, though, he reached the top of the near cliff and as he pushed himself through the tangle of branches there was moonlight to greet him. It was still a cloudy night but the difference to that of the clearing was immense.

  Mike eased himself from amongst the trees and was surprised to see both David and Samantha standing before him. After the surprise subsided he began to feel angry. How David could show Samantha the entrance to the Drop he didn’t know. He told David this, sounding far more melodramatic than called for.