IS
8

The rest of the day seemed to fly by, morphing into darkness, as it had come time to finally leave for the airport. All the way there, I felt a sense of grief I hadn’t anticipated until now. With everything I had been going through, I guess I never really stopped to consider that I was in fact going to miss them. I hugged my family tight, gave my wife a final kiss goodbye, and watched them make their transition onto the plane.

It was official. I was now alone. At least until I got home anyway, I’m sure! But I wouldn’t be going home right away. I would first make a visit to the police station, the one thing I had planned to do all along.

As I proceeded to travel down the expressway, I knew I had plenty of time to come up with the ideal story to tell. But I would have to be careful with my words. I didn’t want them to label this as ridiculous. But after all—wasn’t it, though? This really was ridiculous, and hard to believe at that! As I said, I would have to be careful with my words.

I pulled into the station parking lot, feeling nervous and apprehensive. I thought I had it all worked out in my head, but it all seemed to wash away once I swung open the front door and entered into the clean, quiet surroundings of the front lobby, with the front desk directly in front and all the way to the other side.

I immediately recognized the officer behind the desk. It was Officer Daniels. This made me feel slightly more at ease, as I continued across the polished marble floor, with ramblings of dispatch somewhere off at a short distance beyond his post. As I came closer, he finally lifted his attention from whatever it was that he was reading to address me.

“Can I help you?” he said, with little or no emotion whatsoever.

“Yeah, my name is Josh Stone, and I’d like to complain about a predator that’s been hanging around my neighborhood,” I answered, feeling better now that I had finally started with something.

“Predator?” Daniels asked.

“Yes! And he only comes around at night!” I responded. “So if you send a car out to patrol…”

“Hold on Sir!” Daniels cut in. “Let’s back up a bit. When he comes around, what does he do, exactly?”

“He usually just hangs around, but he actually chased me down the bike path last night!” I said, as I began to feel my anxiety elevate.

“So why did you wait till tonight to register a complaint?” Daniels inquired. I was beginning to feel things shift in a negative direction.

“I wanted to wait till my family left town. I didn’t want to scare them, or put them in harm’s way,” I reported, as I began to perspire.

“Okay. Let’s start with a description,” Daniels suggested. “Can you give me anything regarding his height, weight, color of hair, skin color? Is he white or black?”

I paused for a moment, as I could feel my nerves reverberating through my body; anxious, but also hesitant. Be careful with your words! I thought to myself. I finally said, “White. Very white!”

“What do you mean? Like Albino white?” Daniels asked.

“Yeah, like an Albino… and bald with no hair at all!” I quickly stated, as I finally felt a sense of relief to get at least some of this off my chest. “He’s also tall and thin!” I continued, as the excitement was almost too much to bear. I couldn’t believe how great it felt to finally tell someone about him!

“What was he wearing?” Daniels asked.

“All black… and his shirt was torn up a little!” And then I leaned in a bit closer to him, lowering my voice to almost a whisper. “Crazy stuff’s been going on.” I said. “Like that dead deer carcass you guys found in the schoolyard yesterday… I think he’s got something to do with it!” I then stepped back to see his reaction.

With that, Daniels tipped his head downward, with a smirk growing across his face. “Let me get this straight Mr. Stone… a tall, thin and bald Albino is hanging around your neighborhood at night, and you think he’s responsible for what happened to that deer at the baseball diamond?”

“That’s correct!” I replied, feeling somewhat uneasy after hearing the facts repeated back to me.

Daniels leaned into me with a half-smile on his face, and said, “Frank put you up to this, didn’t he?”

“What?” I said, as I now had become aware of the fact that maybe I hadn’t been careful enough with my words, and that it was very likely that my excitement had driven me a bit too far with details.

“Officer Williams!” he said. “Frank put you up to this! You had me going for a minute though, I have to say!”

“Sir, no one put me up to anything!” I said, realizing that my complaint had taken a turn for the worst.

“Wait until he gets back from vacation!” Daniels said. “I’ll get him back!”

“But Sir…”

“Yeah, I’ll send a patrol car out to your neighborhood!” Daniels interrupted. “I’ll send Officers Beavis and Butthead! How’s that sound?” he jokingly said, as he laughed out loud, amused at what he had come up with.

“Sounds great! Thanks for your help!” I said sarcastically, as I had already turned and made my way towards the door.

“You have a wonderful evening Mr. Stone!” yelled Daniels, across the lobby. “Oh, and say hi to Powder for me!” as he once again laughed and marveled at his comedic prowess.

“Asshole!” I grunted to myself, as I shoved open the door and moved across the lot to my car. Frustrated and scared, I placed my hands down on the hood and looked up and across to the wooded area behind the station. He was out there somewhere, and I was on my own. The wind had picked up, and it surged through the trees with a relentless presence that only confirmed the new approaching storm front. And as I climbed in and turned the ignition, I knew a storm was inevitable, with or without Mother Nature’s guiding hand. He was out there all right, and tonight might be the night I find out why. I had never felt so alone and terrified as I did at that very moment, anticipating confrontation with whatever he was. But this was the moment of truth… I was going home.

The rain finally made its appearance, setting the stage for my arrival, as I turned off the boulevard into my neighborhood, and soon onto my street. I approached my house with a sensational appetite for vigilance and suspicion. As I pulled up into the driveway, small drops had changed to waves, lashing the side of my truck, when I saw someone or something dart between my house and the neighbors. It could have been anything, but I knew better. There it was again. The two emotions of fear and excitement, morphed into one altered emotion that pushed me on.

I opened the door and stepped out into the rain, leaving the dry comfort of warmth and light behind, as I quickly pushed the door closed, focusing all my efforts through the wind and water. As I moved towards the void between the two houses, whatever it was seemed to be one short step ahead of me, closing the gate to the adjoining segment of fence just as I rounded the corner.

I swallowed fast and hard, swiping the small reservoirs of water from my eyes, realizing my sight was probably more important than ever at this point in time. Part of me wanted to follow, and the remaining other wanted to retreat, knowing there would be no shame in wanting to distance myself from an elusive and inconceivable thing such as him. I moved forward.

Just as my hand touched the gate, the neighbor’s patio security light came on; forcing me to take stock of everything I had to continue through. It was then that I remembered my neighbors next door were on vacation as well. This was the ideal scenario for him, and just one more negative aspect to the whole Joshua Stone nightmare.

“Ready or not, here I come!” I yelled, as I pushed against the large six foot high gate. There was instant resistance, but I continued to push harder still. Putting my right shoulder against it for leverage, I peered through a slot in the gate.

My eyes were met by the eyes of inhuman at its most unimaginable, completely opposite of what would be considered normal to you or I. His pupils were light, planted center to complete blackness. I stepped back, and continued to do so, until my left heel caught the edge of one out of six round patio stones that had been strategically placed as a walkway, sending me once again to the ground.

Those eyes! “No!” I screamed, as I quickly got to my feet and wiped my eyes clear again. As incredible as this was, those were the same eyes I had seen as an eleven year old child… face to face… through my window.

“Impossible! You’re not real! You never were!” I again screamed, knowing I was now lying to myself, as the rain began to fall hard and dense. Suddenly, I became enraged with rampant fury, as I screamed and ran at the gate with unstoppable forces that consumed me. As I hit the gate, it opened with what would have needed very little effort, sending me forward without balance to dive and roll several times before coming to a halt in the wetness of the mud and grass. I rose to my knees and quickly scurried in circles, looking everywhere for him. He was nowhere in sight. “Leave me alone! What do you want from me?” I cried.

Then off in the distance, somewhere out in the cold windy and wet field, I heard, “What do you want from me?” so perfectly resembling my own voice, I would have maybe thought it to have been my own echo if there hadn’t been so much lapse of time between. I rose to my feet and stared blindly in the direction it came, when I heard a quiet voice from behind me.

“Josh? Are you all right?”

I quickly turned and wiped my eyes clear one more time to see my neighbor, Randi O’Conner, standing there only ten feet away, under the protection of a large black umbrella. She and her husband Craig moved here last year, and were the newest addition to the neighborhood. They lived between my next door neighbors, the Stantons, and Scott Timmerson and his family. She stood there with a perplexed look on her face that made me wonder just how much she had seen.

“Randi! How long have you been there?” I asked, happy to be in the presence of someone kind and normal. Not to mention beautiful! She and her husband were a young couple in their late twenties. Randi was blonde, about five foot four in height, and a body that made you look, no matter what repercussions were inevitable from the presence of a jealous wife.

“Long enough to hear you yelling at someone like a crazy man! Who the hell were you yelling at anyway?” she asked, still holding on to that same look of perplexity, as the rain and wind continued to batter us.

“You didn’t see anyone?”

“Only you!” she answered.

“You didn’t hear anything—or anyone?” I asked again.

“Only you!” she again answered, as a look of concern came to her face. “Josh! Is there something I should know about?”

“Where’s Craig?” I yelled back, as the wind and rain became louder and stronger.

“Out of town on business!” she yelled back, now fighting to keep her umbrella. “What the hell are we doing out here?” she yelled out again.

I pointed back towards her door wall as I grabbed hold of her left arm and pulled her alongside of me, back to her deck, and eventually inside the warm, dry comfort of her living room. Once inside, I shook off what I could, as Randi left to find some towels. She re-entered the room seconds later, tossing me a towel, before continuing on with her questions.

“Where’s Corey and the kids?” she asked, still drying her hair.

“Out of town,” I answered.

“What the hell? Are we the only ones not out of town?” she asked, with a cocky tone to her voice.

I loved that about her. She always seemed to have a smart remark up her sleeve, which in turn, made her appear older and more mature than she actually was.

“Exactly!” I answered, as I continued to monitor the outside through the glass in her door wall.

Then, without waiting any longer to attain my attention, she balled up her towel and threw it at my head. After missing her target and bouncing off my shoulder, I spun around to her as she must have read the fear in my eyes, and said, “Okay, Josh, what the hell is going on?”

I wanted to bleed everything out to her right then and there, and then I recalled my fail attempt at the police station, only a short while ago. “I just… just thought I saw something, that’s all!” I nervously reported.

“Oh no, you’re not getting off that easy. I distinctly heard you yell at someone! What? Now your Alzheimer’s is kicking in? You asked me if I heard or saw anything—remember?” she asked, with that same smart tone to her voice.

“It’s a long story,” I said, turning to scan the outlying terrain again.

“I’ve got all night, honey!” she answered.

Until now, I had only dreamt of hearing her say that. But this was the wrong place and time, as I desperately strived for something to say, something to keep her out of the picture and let me continue on with where I had left off. I had to come up with something, but my imaginative gene was out of town as well, as I could only come up with, “Kids!” It was quiet for a moment or two, as I waited for some kind of reply from her end.

“Kids?” she finally asked, showing a bit of confusion with where the whole scenario was going.

“Yeah. You know. I pulled up in my driveway, and I saw them hanging around between my house and the Stanton’s.”

“What do you suppose they were doing?” asked Randi.

“I don’t know. Nothing good! So I got out of the truck and yelled out to them,” I continued, feeling as if I were digging a hole that was getting deeper with every fake detail I felt so inclined to add to the debauchery that was my story.

“How many were there?” asked Randi.

I was unable to tell if she was buying any of it at that point. “Two or three, I think.”

“So you yelled at them… and then?” she asked, trying to bring my story to a close.

“Well, they ran off of course. So I chased them!”

“And then you slipped and fell?” she added.

“Exactly!” I responded, pleased that the story was now over, and that the lying could now be over as well.

“Not too long of a story! But what would they be doing out in this weather, and at this time of night?” she asked.

“Who knows? Teenagers!” I replied, trying to get her to rally in support of my story.

“Yeah! Hey! You want a drink?” she asked. “Something to take the chill off?” She proceeded into the kitchen, and into a cupboard for a couple of glasses.

“Nah, gotta get up for work in the morning!” I said.

“Come on, one drink,” she insisted, as she slammed two glasses on the counter.

“Why Randi, are you trying to get me drunk?” I jokingly asked.

“Mr. Stone… if all it takes is one drink to get you drunk, I’d say you’re a pretty cheap date,” she stated.

We both laughed, and I grabbed the door handle to make my exit. As I pulled it open, a look of concern replaced her smile, when she stopped the door with her foot as she said, “Seriously though. When I called your name, and you looked at me? You looked pretty fucking scared!”

“Nah. More like pissed off! You just caught me off guard, that’s all!”

I then gave her petite and beautifully proportioned body a hug and bid her goodnight, as I stepped out the door and off the deck towards the uncertainty of my own humble abode.

The wind had died down somewhat, but the rain still continued to fall hard and heavy as I trudged through the marsh-like backyard towards my deck, feeling that I would undoubtedly be more comfortable with a baseball bat in my hand. Although, I never did get the chance to swing that five iron.

As I continued to get closer to the deck, I heard what sounded like a screeching yell, or scream, from somewhere off in the direction of the playground behind the school. I considered heading in that direction, when I turned back to see Randi standing in her doorway, sipping on whatever she had poured for herself. And as she claimed my attention, she lifted her glass to salute whatever the remainder of the night was to bring.

Whatever the remainder of the night was to bring! I just realized that I had no idea what time it was, or just how much time in fact was remaining, as I waved back to Randi, and then turned to step up onto my deck and over to the door. Again, the scream came across the field to pry at my attention, as I nervously fumbled with my keys, remembering back to my father twenty six years earlier, as I watched him fumble with his… that was the night I first saw him--or it.

Somewhere down the line, I had lost the stomach to address him as Smiley, maybe because the word itself gives you the mental image of something pleasing and delightful, and being in his presence, there was absolutely nothing to be pleased or delighted about. His intentions still laid a mystery to me.

I turned the knob and entered my house. As I shut the door and dampened the sound of the rain slapping the deck outside, I felt myself alienated to the silence and the stillness of shadows that now surrounded me. The calm was overwhelming, and for the first time in I don’t know how long, my mind was blank. Nothing was coming, and nothing was going, as my eyes were trapped and frozen in the black space, when reality was then forced upon me by the initial glow of the computer’s monitor that had just randomly blinked on at the far corner of the room.

My senses joined forces to combat the reality that something was now being typed across the screen. From where I stood, I was too far to make anything out at first, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to. But then I slowly and cautiously began to succumb to the curiosity that festered inside. The human instinct that pulled me towards the inevitable fear that was waiting for me—calling without a sound. Temptation was too great, as I moved closer to the light that now illuminated everything blue.

I was maybe six feet away when I could see that the screen was now two thirds covered with words… and still coming! Covered, but repeating the same thing over, and over, and over again.

TIMETOPLAYTIMETOPLAYTIMETOPLAY…

This was the disturbing message he continued to convey to me, as I stood there in the dark, still adhered to the blue screen in front of me. My eyes flooded with water, even without the rain’s help. I then turned back to the door wall, looking out at the storm that seemed to be coming to a rest.

If only, I thought to myself, laughing hysterically for what seemed like minutes, before finally catching myself, and winding down to a quiet, but heartfelt cry. Maybe I should have had that drink after all! I thought, as I pulled up the front of my shirt to blot my eyes dry. I then tipped my head back and took a deep breath in through my nose, before slowly exhaling out through puffed cheeks and tight lips.

He had, and still continued, to put me through a rollercoaster of emotions. Anger was the flavor of the moment, as I felt its wrath surge through my body with almost uncontainable persistence, feeling as though I would explode without being able to take it out on someone or something… him.

I flung the door open and marched out onto the deck, wanting to–no--needing to confront my nemesis right here, right now! I could feel my blood pressure rising as the scream once again came to me from across the schoolyard.

I glanced over to see that the O’Conner house was dark and silent, and immediately decided to take advantage of the moment. I felt I had no choice but to seize this opportunity. I had to! For the first time since this all began, I would now be the initiator. I was going after him. And even though I was absolutely terrified, I also at the same time, felt compelled… driven to step outside my comfort zone, which had over the past couple of days, become something less than comfortable anyway.

Once more I ventured into the garage for my choice of weaponry. At first, I approached my golf bag. I even began to draw a club from its surrounding arsenal of choices, when I then dropped it, letting it slide back into its black velvety sheath. This would call for something with more mass. Only one club of choice would fit that description, as I looked over to the ball rack, and my eyes fell upon the large aluminum softball bat, hanging upside down from its knob at the very end of the handle. Sir Lancelot would be proud of its long, gold sleekness, as it glimmered in the light.

“Yes!” I unconsciously blurted out as I walked over and withdrew it from its display. With both hands tightly positioned on the grip, I held its long and powerful strength upright in front of me. This increased my level of confidence, as I was now ready to hunt out that white son-of-a-bitch! I was done being toyed with. Whatever was going to happen was going to happen tonight!

Resting the bat on my right shoulder, I walked back into the kitchen and then over to the phone, switching the bat from my right to my left, in order to dial the receiver. “This is Josh Stone. An urgent family crisis has come up, and I will be unable to come in tomorrow. Thank you.”

With that, I placed the phone back into the base and brought the bat down to lean against the stove, before sliding a chair over to the fridge to acquire the large, yellow, six volt flashlight from the small cupboard overhead. Not wanting to draw any attention, I convinced myself that I would only use it when I felt it necessary. The rain had stopped, and the wind had subdued to almost nothing at all. But the aftermath of the previous downpour would make for uncomfortably wet travel.

I stepped off the deck, armed for battle, ready to go the distance, however far that distance would soon prove to be. I dropped to one knee, and then changed over to the other, as I tightened the laces of my shoes, still continuing to feel drops of water, only now from what remained on the leaves in the trees. I then stood up, lifting the bat high into the air above me, then driving the end down hard into the ground in front of me. This seemed to put things in their right perspective, as I felt a new charge of tenacity before continuing on with my hunt.

I put on my game face. It was now on--and I was off to find him.

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