Voices in the Dark: Part Four

Part Four

After everyone finished gawking at the adorable night-vision footage of the possum and

her babies, Addy’s dad followed a YouTube tutorial to fine-tune the camera. He adjusted the

settings so it would only activate for human-shaped movement within the perimeter of the front

yard. In theory, it would no longer be triggered by animals, trees or passing cars… only by

people who crossed the boundary line of the Henderson home.

Everyone felt a bit safer with the Ring camera up. But, Addy couldn’t help noticing that

her mother never replaced the BLM flag. Fear may have been lessened, but it wasn’t erased.

The summer of COVID-19 had fully settled in. With school officially finished and still

nowhere to go, Addy decided to try something new. She had always daydreamed about being a

famous author… a creator of fantastic worlds and strange tales. These days, getting lost in a good

book was her only real escape from the drudgery of “lock-down”. Her books had become her

best friends, and the authors of those books were like mythical gods who wielded the magic of

creation.

How cool would it be to join their ranks?

And, how hard could it be?

She opened a blank document on her phone, ready to hammer out the first draft of what

would certainly be a masterpiece and found that her mind was as blank as the empty page in

front of her. She just sat there, staring at her phone, waiting for something to happen. Nothing

came. She tried experimenting with opening lines like “once upon a time” and “a long time ago,

in a galaxy far, far away” but that didn’t get her wheels spinning either. Then she remembered

something her teacher had told her. She had said that all great writers started with what they

knew… drawing inspiration from their own true life experiences. Before she could over-analyze

what she was doing, she had typed a bold title across the top of the page:

Strange Tales from Chestnut Avenue by Addy Henderson

This seemed to unlock her creative mojo and now the writing came fast and easy. She

started with the people she watched every day from her bedroom window. She invented a

backstory for Backwards Man, imagining him cursed by a trickster genie, granted a second

chance in life, on the condition that he never faced the future… but instead be doomed to look

only behind him, forever watching where he’d been, never truly arriving anywhere new.

She wrote about the Jazzercise Woman, whose joyful, relentless dancing could cure any

illness… even the dreaded COVID-19… but, like an impish leprechaun, one would have to catch

her first. And she always seemed to be prancing and spinning just beyond the reach of those who

sought her healing magic. Only the truly worthy could learn her beautiful dance and follow in

her steps.

She imagined the old man across the street as a retired Navy sailor who had once battled

sea monsters and sirens before settling quietly in Orangevale to raise his flag each morning.

Having once been touched by Poseidon’s trident, he had been granted the gift of immortality and

would still walk the earth long after the fall of man.

At one point in her writing, her thoughts had drifted to The Howler. She tried her best to

come up with a story for him but every time she tried, she found her fingers would not cooperate.

She remembered what her father had said. That The Howler was unwell and should be pitied,

and treated with kindness. She felt bad about turning him into a villain or monster. It felt cruel.

And so, Addy resolved to skip The Howler and moved on to pen the story of the musician who

traded his clothing for a bicycle.

The writing helped pass the time. At least it gave Addy a sense of purpose each day. Her

depression lessened and she found that laughter came easier on the days she worked on her book.

It became a new family tradition to close the day with Addy sharing bits of her stories while all

were seated at the dinner table. Her family proved to be an excellent audience. She always gave

them just enough to get them excited but was sure to end on a cliffhanger, so they’d be eager for

more the following night.

In addition to “story time with Addy”, the Hendersons also held regular family game

nights and family movie nights. And typically, once or twice a week, they would go for a nature

walk in Shackleton Woods, the four acre wooded lot at the end of Chestnut Ave.

The loneliness never fully disappeared, and she still missed her friends, but the pandemic

routine had gone on for so long that it began to feel more and more normal… even comfortable.

So, when she started hearing conversations about school reopening in the fall, the idea left her

conflicted. Home had become the one place that didn’t feel dangerous. Going back meant

relearning how to exist in a world that suddenly felt fragile and unpredictable. She wasn’t sure

she was ready for that. She wanted to hold on to this moment and prolong the delicious magic of

summer.

The Fourth of July of 2020 came like a ruckus rebuttal against the anxiety the whole

world had been feeling. It was a night she would always remember… a night that rekindled her

faith that things could get better… that even difficult, horrible things can become beautiful!

Everyone was exhausted from being trapped indoors… wound tight and desperate for a release.

The holiday felt like a pressure valve that was begging to be twisted wide open.

By the night's end, Addy had come to believe that every household in Orangevale had

acquired its own private arsenal of illegal fireworks. Later, news footage would show that it

wasn’t just the Orangevaliens. Cities across the country lit up with more fireworks than anyone

had ever seen!

After grilling hot dogs and cracking open sodas, the Hendersons put on patriotic music

and climbed into their twenty-two-foot above-ground pool. As the sun dipped below the

horizon, the night erupted. Fireworks bloomed in every direction, red, gold, blue… so constant

that they all blurred into a single roaring spectacle… as if the entire city of Orangevale had

collaborated to put on the greatest show that ever was for an audience of four.

Addy, Lilly, mom, and dad floated in the water, their faces creased by expressions of

awe-struck wonder while Ray Charles’s rendition of America the Beautiful played through a

Bluetooth speaker.

Their home was surrounded by a full three-hundred-and-sixty-degree display, courtesy of

neighbors who had spent months with nothing to do but wait. Some of the fireworks exploded so

low to the ground that Addy and Lilly dove under the water, fearing their eyebrows might be

singed by the colorful blasts.

The entire neighborhood seemed to let loose with reckless abandon, and it felt great…

like a metaphorical middle finger to COVID, lockdowns, and social distancing. Even as Addy

lay in her bed, the smell of chlorine still clinging to her hair and the afterimage of a thousand

explosions still dancing behind her eyelids, she still heard the sounds of rowdy celebrations from

her fellow Orangevaliens. But it didn’t bother her. Nothing had ever sounded so sweet. It

reminded her that there was still a future to look forward to… when the pandemic would be just

a memory. It felt good to believe in that future. Holding on to that happy thought, Addy drifted

into a peaceful slumber feeling happier than she had in months.

“Hi. You are currently being recorded.”

Light flooded Addy’s room as she jolted awake. The Ring camera had been activated.

All at once a dread that Addy had nearly forgotten flooded over, remembering her father’s

adjustments to the Ring camera…

That’s definitely a person out there!

She deftly slipped out of bed and crept toward the window. Before she could even touch

the blinds, the quiet of the neighborhood was shattered by the unmistakable sounds of trash cans

toppling over, spilling the holiday’s bottles and cans onto the pavement, and then a familiar voice

rose outside, wild and unstable. As she lifted the blinds, Addy already knew who she would see.

Just beyond the pale glow of the Ring camera lights stood The Howler, as deranged and manic as

ever.

Addy took a slow breath and tried to steady herself. She remembered what her father had

told her. She tried her best to see the humanity in him. She was, after all, fourteen years old now.

Practically grown. She knew she shouldn’t be scared. She should feel empathy for a sick and

unloved man. But, when the Howler screamed and began ramming his fist into the side of his

own head, Addie felt herself snap backward in time, reduced to the little girl who once believed

in monsters under her bed. Only this wasn’t imaginary. This was a real monster, standing just

outside her bedroom window.

His words spilled out angry, fractured, and disoriented.

“Shut the fuck up,” he shouted. “Fuck you. I don’t wanna hear you anymore. Shut up.

Shut up. Shut up!”

He was pointing at the ground.

For a moment, Addie thought someone must be at his feet… someone shoved down, hurt,

and begging for mercy. But as her eyes adjusted, she saw there was no one there. He was

pointing at the bare sidewalk, cursing the empty concrete.

“Shut up. Shut up. Shut up!” Each command was punctuated by another blow to his own

skull. “Leave me the fuck alone. Leave me alone. Fuck you.”

Then he let out a primal scream and doubled over, as if punched in the stomach.

Addie froze, paralyzed with fear.

Then, the Howler’s head abruptly snapped up, as though he’d heard something. But,

instead of looking up or down the street, he stared directly at Addie’s window, locking eyes with

her. It was as if he knew she had been watching the entire time… and wanted her to know that he

could see her too.

At first, she was so frightened that she could hardly breathe. But as she gazed back into

those eyes and read the expression on his face, something softened inside her. She did feel sorry

for him. And for the first time, she realized he didn’t look angry at all… He looked afraid.

The Howler opened his mouth, drawing in a breath. Addie braced herself for another

scream. But instead of screaming, he called out a name.

“Captain Simon,” he hollered down the empty street. “Goodbye, Captain Simon. Oh,

Captain Siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiimon!”

Addy expected lights to come on in neighboring houses… for the usual folks to come to

thier doors, yelling at the howler to “shut the fuck up,” but so far she seemed to be the only

whiteness to… to whatever this was.

“Goodbye Simon!” He screamed. “Simon! Simon! Simon!”

Now he was striking both sides of his head as he repeated the name, over and over.

“Simon. Simon. Simon.”

He then gave another shriek of anguish, his eyes rolling up so only the whites caught the

Ring’s light, briefly transforming his face to that of a lifeless statue. Addy thought that she had

never seen something so terrifying or so sad.

Then, as though suddenly released by some restraining force, like a dog who had been cut

from his leash, the Howler suddenly ran down the street, screaming and ranting until he

disappeared into the darkness.