Voices in the Dark: Part Seven

Part Seven

Blaine Iverson lived seven houses north of the Henderson home on Chestnut Avenue.

Addy had never seen or heard of the man, which only went to show that the strangeness of

Orangevale was not limited to the Orangevaliens who regularly passed by Addy’s bedroom

window.

Iverson was an auto mechanic with a particular passion for things that roared, thrust, and

went boom. His most recent passion project had been an attempt to build a jet engine from

junkyard parts inside his garage. Investigators were unable to determine how close Iverson had

come to success when a small grease fire had spread to three barrels of highly flammable, and

highly illegal, jet fuel.

A crater now stood where his home had been.

Every house on the surrounding block suffered damage, the least of which was the

cracked windowpane in Addy’s bedroom. Two people had died as a result of the explosion.

One was Iverson himself. This took some time for officials to confirm. Most pieces of him were

too small to identify. However, several teeth matching Iverson’s dental records were found on the

front lawns of three neighboring homes.

The second death fell more squarely into the category of tragic timing… wrong place,

wrong time.

The Orangevale Herald later reported that Walter Franson, a longtime resident of the

neighborhood, had been a pedestrian, out for a late night stroll and was passing Iverson’s home at

the moment of the explosion. However, the words “pedestrian” and “stroll” were technically

inaccurate, as Franson was the wheelchair-bound Vietnam War veteran that Addy had referred to

as “Backwards Man”.

The morning after the explosion Addy found herself in another round of trying to

convince her parents of what had happened during the night. She explained that The Howler had

come again, once again he had shared foreknowledge of a violent event, worse still, he had

hinted another death might still be forthcoming.

Addy was frustrated to see the familiar, condescending disbelief behind her parents’ eyes.

This time, though, their doubt had shifted to a patronizing concern for Addy’s mental health.

Do they think I’m going crazy? she wondered.

Maybe she was.

She supposed it could be true.

Do people know when they are going crazy?

She imagined herself someday becoming like The Howler… roaming the streets at night

with tangled hair and tattered clothes, tipping over trash cans, screaming at strangers, and, oh

yeah, occasionally predicting the future.

Addy recognized some of the same first-responders who had visited only a few weeks

earlier, to remove a wrecked muscle containing two dead teens, and the old man who lay folded

in half underneath. Now they had returned to Chestnut Avenue to clean up another catastrophe.

She wondered if they felt it too… that subtle wrongness, as though they were stepping into an

alternate universe, summoned twice in a matter of weeks by improbable violence.

Later that day, Addy and her family walked past what had once been Blaine Iverson’s

home. Emergency crews had finished their work. The crater exposed wiring and sewer pipes, but

there was no sign of any talking, magical underground river.

They stopped to gawk at the devastation.

Several nearby houses were scorched. One was missing a chunk of its roof. Addy thought

it looked like the photographs of war-torn cities in her history book, only this battlefield was

confined to a single slice of her street.

They stood there in silence for a long moment, then Lily spoke.

“Can Addy’s friend tell the future?”

At the same time, her mom started to say, The Howler is not Addy’s friend, and her dad

began, No one can tell the future…

They both stopped short as Addy spoke over them.

“I don’t think so,” she said. “I think he just overhears someone else who can.”

Addy’s father frowned.

“That man is dangerous, Addy.”

“I thought you said we should have empathy for him,” she replied.

“We should,” her father said. “But if he keeps showing up at our house and traumatizing

my kids… then I’ll need to do something about it.”

“Are you going to fight him, Dad?” Lily asked.

“Oh no. God, no… of course not,” he said quickly. “He just needs help. And nobody

seems to be helping him. So it may fall to us to… to help him get… uh, help.”

“Whatever that means,” Addy’s mom muttered, rolling her eyes. “For now, Addy,

promise me that if he comes around again, you stay away from your window and come get us.”

“Sure, but he did say that another death was…”

“Enough.” Addy’s father raised his voice. “There isn’t going to be another death. The

man isn’t magical. And you will stay away from him.”

“Hey,” Lily said suddenly, pointing upward. “What’s that?”

They all looked up.

Directly overhead, tangled in the branches of a singed oak tree, was something that

looked like a piece of modern art… a knot of twisted chrome and sparkling glass.

“Oh God,” Addy’s mom whispered, putting her hand over her mouth.

It took another few seconds for Addy’s mind to interpret the shapes, so far removed from

their normal context… the spokes and hoop of a wheelchair’s big rear tire… and above that, a

twisted metal handle that still supported a few reflective shards of a cracked mirror.

*****

Several hours into the night that she would later come to think of as the beginning of the

end, Addy lay fast asleep and dreaming.

School had started again.

Addy had arrived carrying a backpack stuffed with N-95 masks and already had two

strapped tightly across her face, just in case!

Only, somehow she had missed the message that everyone else had received… the one

explaining that masks were no longer enough to protect against COVID-19.

All the other students and teachers wore oxygen tanks strapped to their backs. Thick

hoses snaked up over their shoulders into large snorkeling masks that covered their entire faces.

They looked like deep-sea divers or astronauts.

Addie’s teacher, who by the strange and unquestioned logic of dreams was

simultaneously her father, stood at the front of the classroom scolding her for not taking the

pandemic seriously.

Around her, the other students pointed, mockingly.

Their laughter echoed strangely through the plastic domes of their masks, muffled and

distorted. Beneath the constant hiss of oxygen tanks and the hollow bubbling of rebreathers,

Addy could hear another sound… a distant yet familiar voice… somewhere outside, beyond the

school walls… the voice of The Howler. He was shouting a name. A name she could almost

hear… almost understand… but not quite…

“Addy!”

The word had been whispered directly into her ear.

It was spoken with the violent clarity that sometimes comes when the mind stumbles into

a long forgotten memory… Like when a smell, or a peculiar taste suddenly opens a hidden door

in the mind and illuminates a complex network of discarded senses and emotions. In an instant

she was flooded with dread, certainty, awe… the memory of being a little girl who learned to

believe in ghosts.

Her ear was still warm where the voice had touched it… a voice that had not entirely

gone away. She could still hear breathing. No, not breathing… crying!

Addy cautiously turned in her bed to meet her ghost… Lily stood alone in the darkness,

crying by her bedside.

Moonlight filtered through the blinds and illuminated teardrops on her sister’s cheeks.

Addy could instantly tell that Lilly wasn’t just sad… she was afraid.

“What’s wrong?” Addy whispered.

“It’s The Howler,” Lily said. “He’s back. I hear him.”

That didn’t make any sense, and for a fleeting moment Addy considered contradicting

her. If the Howler had come, the Ring camera should have alerted her. The flood light should

have switched on. He should have been outside her window like before.

In some strange, uncomfortable way, Addie had begun to feel as though The Howler’s

visits somehow made her special. His appearances and his predictions of doom were a part of

her story now… hers alone. The thought that Lily had heard him first felt… wrong. Like

someone had stolen something from her.

Addy snapped back to the present when she heard it too. Not in front of the house, but

from far down the street. A voice echoing through the darkness. It was hard to make out exactly

what he was saying, but it was unmistakably The Howler.

“He’s been saying my name,” Lily whispered. Her hands trembled slightly.

“For a long time now. I didn’t get up because I was scared.” She swallowed.

“He keeps saying it. Lily. Lily. Lily. Over and over… Is he looking for me?Am I going to

die?”

Addy didn’t answer, because when she strained to listen, the distant shouting really did

sound like a name, and it did sound like Lily.

“I wanted to get up earlier,” Lily continued. “But Mr. Gower came out and started yelling

at him. He was cussing and said he was going to get his gun."

“All right,” Addy said, hugging her sister tightly to her chest.

Her mind had erupted into chaos. A thousand thoughts collided and scattered like

frightened birds. But above all of them she remembered the promise she had made to her parents.

She took Lily’s hand.

“Come on.”

Together they walked down the hallway and into their parents’ bedroom.

Her father’s reaction was immediate.

Within minutes he was on the phone with the Sacramento County Sheriff’s Department.

Having already had a few encounters with the Howler, the dispatcher sounded more annoyed

than concerned. Still, they agreed to send someone out to check on the “poor fellow” and make

sure nothing was getting out of hand.

An hour later, after some late-night toast and hot cocoa, Lily had been tucked back into

bed and had quickly fallen back to sleep.

Addy had not.

She lay awake in the darkness, listening to her parents’ voices drifting faintly through the

wall.

Her father had spoken with the deputies. They had picked The Howler up. Apparently his

name was Jeff. For reasons Addy couldn’t quite explain, this really disoriented her.

“Jeff?” She repeated to herself.

Of course The Howler would have a name. But hearing it spoken aloud peeled away

another layer of the monster and revealed the human being underneath.

She began to regret involving her parents. Now The Howler… “Jeff” was in jail and it

was all her fault. Everything felt like it was going wrong… spiraling out of control.

“They can only hold him overnight,” her father was saying. “Since he hasn’t actually

done anything illegal.”

“So he could be back tomorrow?” her mother asked.

“Possibly. If he damages property or hurts someone they’ll arrest him. Otherwise they

can’t do much.”

There was a pause. Then her mother spoke again.

“But what about him yelling Lily’s name?”

Her father sighed.

“Nobody else heard that.”

Another pause.

“And how could he? He doesn’t know our kids’ names. Most likely, Lily heard him

shouting and got frightened. Her imagination filled in the rest.”

Addy stared at the ceiling. She understood exactly what her father meant, but deep down

she knew he was wrong. The Howler had been calling a name. One more death to satisfy the

convergence. And tonight he had spoken Lily’s name.

A terrible weight settled onto Addy’s chest. It pressed down so heavily that it became

difficult to move or breathe. Her mind raced in circles. What could she do? How could this even

be real? How do you stop something when you don’t even know what it is? Can a teenage girl

alter the course of fate? Was there anyone who could help? Why was this happening to her? Was

she simply losing her mind? What could she possibly do???

These questions chased each other in a relentless loop. She felt like she was being pulled

into an inescapable maelstrom of uncertainty. Her heart pounded. Her eyes bulged. Fear swelled

inside her like a giant balloon, and the slightest touch would initiate a world-shattering pop!

Just when Addy was certain she could no longer contain the madness that was growing within

her… when she felt that if she allowed herself to open her mouth even the smallest crack a

scream would come pouring out that would go on and on and never end… just at that very edge

of insanity, a scrub jay squawked outside her window, breaking the spell and announcing the new

day’s arrival.

Pale morning light crept through the branches of the tree in the front yard.

The night was over. The dread remained. But something had shifted.

Addy still knew… knew with a quiet certainty… that something terrible waited just

ahead in the near future. Yet the shrill cry of the scrub jay and the stubborn optimism of the

morning sun had drawn her out of bed and toward the window. She stood there, staring out at the

street. It was empty. The quiet of early morning hung over the neighborhood like a held breath.

What could she possibly do?

She asked herself the question again. But this time it felt different. This time she sensed

that somewhere, just beyond the edge of her understanding, an answer already existed.

Her eyes drifted downward to the sidewalk in front of the house. To the exact spot where

The Howler had once stood. The place where she had sensed a hidden power and overheard

voices from another world.

Addy stared at that patch of pavement for a long time.

Slowly, the dread inside her began to change shape. It hardened, condensing into

something closer to determination.

“I am not afraid of you," she said aloud.

“You are going to lose.”

Her voice sounded both strong and calm in the quiet house.

She spoke as though the pavement could listen… as though something beneath it might

care… reaching out… pressing her intentions at whatever unseen forces were out there.

“I don’t know what you are,” she continued softly. “Or where you come from, but I’m

going to defeat you.”

Her voice hardened.

“You don’t get to take my sister.”

Then to Addy’s great surprise, the sidewalk responded.

A faint shimmer appeared above the patch of sidewalk she had been staring at. At first it

was subtle, like the wavering distortion that rises from black asphalt on a hot day. But this

shimmer was different. It rose higher. It pulsed with a living energy.

Addy felt it immediately. Whatever this was, she knew it was not a “phenomenon”, it was

an entity.. an intelligence.

She didn’t see a face. Couldn’t hear any words. But, she knew instinctively that

something was there… something aware… something looking back.

A strange pressure gathered at the edges of her mind… not painful, but intensely present,

like standing too close to a powerful magnet.

With an overwhelming sense of impending doom, and a bizarre flicker of pride, Addy

realized that it was looking for her… or reaching for her?

She could feel a probing curiosity radiating from the shimmering distortion, pushing

outward into the air like a ship’s sonar.

It felt utterly alien and undeniably intimate.

She began to notice their thoughts brushing against one another… tentative, exploratory

prods and tugs. First pressing against each other, then intertwining.

The energy above the pavement pulsed and twisted.

Addy could sense a persistent idea pulsing in her direction, repeating itself over and over

again… a question.

Who are you?

Who are you?

Who are you?

Addy felt the question as clearly as if it had been spoken aloud. And, before she could

stop herself, she reached back. Not with words, but in thought.

The moment she did, something clicked. Like fingers interlocking with a dear friend, or a

sudden reunion with an amputated limb that she never knew she was missing. A deep, profound

connection had been solidified.

Mental constructs and versions of “selves” began to manifest, overlapping, and

enveloping one another.

inside her mind.

The entity’s thoughts… if “thoughts” is even the appropriate word… began to uncoil

Pure intelligence rushed into her awareness at impossible speeds and from improbable

directions, spilling backward into the deep past and forward into unimaginable futures. Images,

sounds and incomprehensible shapes exploded into her understanding.

In less than a heartbeat Addy saw more than most human beings could learn in decades of

disciplined study.

Forbidden histories.

New colors.

The flow of evolution over a billion alternate routes.

The slow breathing machinery of something vast and ancient pressing against the fragile

surface of her world.

Then, suddenly, Addy could sense that this communication, this transference of thought,

had completed. The connection became softer and she could sense the entity recoiling… pulling

away until their link was broken.

Addy now felt extremely vulnerable and exposed, like in the dreams where she barely

makes it to class in time, only to discover that she forgot to put on any clothing.

At the same time Addy felt inexplicably sad, as though she were mourning the loss of

something vast. She experienced a sense of being diminished, emptied and abandoned… the

simultaneous devastation of abandonment and relief of the first gulp of air after a long

submersion in deep waters.

As a grown adult, many years later, in a form of vague Déjà vu, tiny recollections of this

connection would occasionally resurface when Addy was in the throes of a powerful orgasm,

when she breastfed her child in the middle of the night, or when she squeezed the hand of a

dying loved one for the final time.

As Addy began to process her feelings the shimmering distortion collapsed inward.

Snapping out of this reality through the crack in the sidewalk.

And just like that, the most significant cosmic event of the last few centuries had ended.

The event would later be logged in the Convergency-Hammond Archives as the second

documented instance in human history in which two such minds successfully bridged across a

trans-dimensional rift without fatal consequences to either party.

After catching her breath, Addy stood a few moments longer, gazing out her bedroom

window and considering the entity’s probing, insistent question…

Who are you?

Who are you?

She placed the palm of her hand against the window pain and answered.

“I am Addy and I am an Orangevalien!”

Fifteen minutes later, Addie had formed a plan.

They didn’t discuss their plan or do any packing until much later that evening, after mom

and dad were sound asleep.

Then, once they felt as prepared as they could hope, Addy and Lily left their home on

Chestnut Avenue for the last time.