Alex Hill heard it again. He got out of bed and explored the house, a place he had memorized since he was a child. He knew where the floorboards creaked underneath the worn carpets. He also knew all the rasps and groans of the foundation settling. It had been a long time. Why on earth would he return to his childhood home? Being poor and homeless makes you do things you don’t want to do.
Alex turned into the hallway and navigated past old and dusty bookshelves with porcelain figurines stacked upon them. He stopped and listened, trying to locate the sound. Not satisfied, he continued on.
Light flickered out of the darkness from the living room. Was the space a host to some evil entity? Alex peered around the corner. He found only his mom asleep on the couch. He dashed toward her.
“Mom, wake up!” Her gray head wobbled back and forth as Alex shook her from her slumber.
“Did you hear the dragging noise? It sounded the same as when Dad would move the furniture at night.”
“It’s just the house settling.”
“I don’t think so. And footsteps—”
“Did you see the job postings downtown at Super-Value?”
“No, I…”
“I know it’s not a high-paying job like your old thing, but at least it’s something.”
“I was a regional manager.”
“Don’t get yourself down. You can stay here for as long as you like.”
“Yeah.”
Alex’s knees hurt in the crouched position he hovered in as he watched his mother close her eyes. He stood and backed away. Maybe it was all in his imagination. He put his ear toward the darkness. A sharp voice cracked the air.
“Hon? Can you clean out the shed tomorrow?”
Alex jolted forward a step and then braced his shaking knees.
“Okay, mom.”
***
Alex yanked the tangled garden hose as he spun in circles, the green tube wrapping around his legs as he turned. He threw it all down and stopped to consider the mess. Just throw it in the shed.
He reached to grab the disheveled hose, but pulled back with a jolt when a small form whipped past him. Was it his imagination? Most likely. Just ignore it. Pretend it doesn’t exist, like the mysterious racket that echoed in the house at night that his mom didn’t notice. But he couldn’t ignore it.
Inside his dad’s old work shed, metallic clinking and clacking emanated through the door as little footsteps scurried across shifting boxes.
Alex peered in, anger seizing his frame as he watched the neighbor kid, Christopher, wandering through the shed. The child was so preoccupied with rifling through dusty tools that he didn’t hear Alex walk up behind him. Alex filled his lungs with air and bellowed, “What are you doing in there?”
The stout, disheveled child spun wildly around, knocking over a shovel leaning against the door. The loud clang reverberated in the deteriorating shed. He looked up at Alex with a toothy grin.
“You didn’t scare me! I saw you a mile away,” he squealed. “You’re so tall, you block out the sun.”
Alex peered down at the scruffy kid and smirked, “Stealing is a crime, you know.”
“I need stuff to build a soapbox car out of. There’s a race every year by the lake and I want to win!”
Alex’s voice became forceful with his aggravation. “This was my dad’s shed. You can’t come in here and take these things.”
“Your dad is dead. He’s not using this stuff anymore. Why can’t I use it?”
Alex’s face grew hot with suppressed rage as the brazen child pointed his finger at him and scorned, “You’re not doing anything important anyway, so why don’t you help me build it? I only have a few days until the race.”
Alex glared past the defiant child toward his dad’s decaying chair. He remembered how small the chair looked as his dad’s giant, lanky mass sat for hours twiddling away. He spent much of his time in there, alienating himself from the world.
“My dad never helped me with anything, so why should I help you? I don’t care about your dumb race. Go home and play in your own yard.”
“Bug! Lunch time.” A melodic woman’s voice echoed from the side of the house. Christopher’s mom, Sara, walked toward them. The wind tugged at her floral sundress as the light fabric swished around her legs. She stood above Christopher and put her hands to her waist.
“There you are.”
“Alex is gonna help me build my soap box car,” Christopher’s voice rang out in a high-pitch squeal.
“How nice.”
“No, I…” Alex stammered, attempting to find the right words. “Listen, Christopher… Bug… needs to play in his own yard. I’m trying to clean up around here and he’s getting underfoot.”
“Yeah. You can squish me like a bug with your big feet.”
Sara returned a gracious smile to Alex, “I’m so sorry, he’s such a rambunctious child. He definitely can get in the way sometimes.” She looked toward the small boy, who was staring into the darkness of the old shed. “Now Bug, apologize to Mr. Hill.”
“I’m sorry. But not really.” Bug didn’t alter his gaze as he spoke. Sara grabbed him by the arm and led him away.
“Time for lunch, Bug.”
Christopher walked past Alex, but then stopped and peered up, a devious smile cracking across his face. “See you again tomorrow!”
Christopher stood a second longer, his eyes searching Alex’s features for a counter response. Getting none, he skipped toward his own home.
With a heavy sigh, Alex gazed into the silent darkness of the shed. Inky shadows and streaks of sunlight created a peculiar illusion of his dad sitting in his chair. He knew his dad wasn’t there; he died a long time ago. Alex shut the door and went into the house.
***
Alex lay awake in bed that night. He couldn’t get the confrontation with that annoying child out of his head. What gave that kid the right to go into his dad’s shed and steal things? Why would he want to help build his dumb soapbox car, anyway?
Alex’s memory drifted to his own childhood, back to his 6th grade science fair. He remembered how awkward it felt as he towered above his solar system of glued cotton balls, wood shavings, and wire. Alex’s dad promised to help him, but in the end, he built it himself with scraps he found in the shed.
“Hey, Alex! I like the detail on Mars,” Mr. Chester, Alex’s science teacher, declared as he inspected the sorry excuse for a display.
“Is my dad here yet? He promised he would come.”
“No, I haven’t seen him. I’ll keep a lookout for him.”
Alex scanned the room and spotted his mom in the distance, taking pictures of him while she smiled proudly, but still his dad was nowhere in sight. Alex stood alone, waiting and watching. His dad never showed up.
Alex imagined how things could have been different on that day. His dull memory transformed into a hopeful dream as he conjured up the tall silhouette of his dad walking through the disordered crowd. Everyone turned to look in respect and admiration as the giant man strode in Alex’s direction. His face tightened from smiling so wide. Alex yelled, “Dad! I’m over here!”
Alex’s dad smiled in recognition of his son and walked ahead. He weaved his way through the people, but then slowed his pace. His dad bent over, as if picking something off the ground, but then never returned to a standing position. Hiding himself from view, everyone walked past and did not notice the indiscretion.
Alex frantically scanned the room. He feared his dad had abandoned him again, but then felt a massive hand take hold of his shoulder. Behind him, a low, rumbling voice bellowed, “I’m here, son. I wouldn’t let you down.”
Alex ecstatically spun toward his dad, only to be confronted by a rotting, shriveled image of his father’s face. His dad’s sunken eyes stared deeply into his. The smell of decomposed flesh was unbearable. Alex woke up screaming.
***
“What are you doing? I told you to stay out of my yard!” Alex hollered as Christopher walked up to the shed as if he owned the place.
“I need wheels for my soapbox car.”
“Why don’t you get your own dad to help you?”
“He’s dead. He died in Afghanistan. All I have is this medal to remind me of him.” Christopher pulled a gold medal from his front shirt pocket. The ribbon was worn and tattered.
“Oh, I’m sorry…” A rush of panic overwhelmed Alex as he struggled to find the right words, but he could only think of what a rotten person he was.
“Bug! Lunch time.” Sara walked around the corner, interrupting the uncomfortable conversation. She smiled graciously at Alex before averting her attention to Christopher. “There you are. Are you bothering Mr. Hill?”
“Alex. Please call me Alex. No bother. Christopher was just telling me about his dad.”
“It happened when Bug was just three years old. I’m surprised he can even remember him. But I’m glad he does.”
“My dad died a long time ago. I… remember him too.”
Sara looked up at Alex, her eyes soft yet unyielding. “Maybe we can get a coffee sometime.”
“Gross,” Christopher snorted.
“I would like that.” Alex could feel a goofy smile spread across his face.
“Bug, say goodbye.” Sara grasped Christopher’s hand to lead him away. He turned and waved to Alex.
“I gotta go. See ya tomorrow!”
Alex watched until they disappeared around the corner. Then he focused his view on the old shed. A dark form stood in the shadows. The shape looked all too familiar. A rush of angry heat overwhelmed Alex’s body.
***
While lying in bed that night, Alex’s thoughts wandered again to the past. His high school graduation. Scanning the hallway of crowded people, Alex searched for his dad, but his dad never showed.
Alex drifted deeper into sleep as his memory altered into a skewed dream.
“Alex, how’s it going?” Mr. Chester asked with an upbeat tone.
“Have you seen my dad? He hasn’t walked past yet.”
“No Alex, I haven’t seen him yet.” Mr. Chester smiled as he turned to walk away. “Don’t worry about it; I’m sure he will be here shortly.”
Alex surveyed the room and spotted his mom sitting in the rafter seating, taking pictures of him from a distance. She sat alone.
Surrounded by other soon to be graduates, Alex kept his eyes trained on his mom, waiting for his dad to appear. Finally, the teachers broke up the disarray as they hollered for the students to get in line.
Alex anxiously examined the audience. His eyes stopped when he could see the tall frame of his dad making his way through the crowd. Alex smiled with excitement and waved. His dad smiled back.
Alex beamed with pride as his powerful father strode in his direction, ready for him to congratulate Alex on all his hard work towards his graduation. But something happened. Alex’s sense of pride transformed into revulsion.
He watched his dad’s confident march evolve into a contorted limp, his eyes sink into his head and his skin disintegrate to the bone.
Overcome with terror, Alex jumped out of line and ran down the hall. The engulfing darkness faded the details of the lockers and jubilant posters hanging on the walls. Behind him, uneven footsteps dug into the floor as a voice gurgled, “Son! Wait!”
Alex jerked awake and sat up in his bed. His eyes gazed toward a strand of moonlight flowing in from his window. The beam abruptly stopped at the foot of his bed, where a shadowy apparition of a tall man stood. Alex screamed as he pulled away from the tangled sheets. With a thud, he fell to the floor and then scurried out of the room on his hands and knees. He stumbled down the stairs and then ran past his bewildered mom as he jumped out the door of the house.
***
“You look funny all bunched up in there. Why are you sleeping in your car?”
Two eyes and a mass of unkempt hair peered through the driver’s side window. Alex candidly replied, “I had a bad dream about my dad and I didn’t want to be in the house.”
Christopher’s face lit up, “I have nightmares about my dad too! I dream that I’m out there in the desert chasing after him, but he just keeps running away, no matter how much I scream for him to turn back.”
“Wow, that is a bad nightmare.” Alex tried to relax the muscles in his side, now feeling secure as the sunlight streamed into the windows. His spirits lifted a bit. It was nice to talk to someone who understood him, even if it was just a little boy.
“Are you going to help me today? If we take the wheels off your old wagon in the shed, I can have some tires for my soapbox car.”
“Sure, kid. Give me a second.”
Alex pulled himself out of the car. Christopher turned with a surprised expression, as if he didn’t expect Alex to really help him at all.
After standing at the door to the shed for a moment, Alex took a deep breath and walked inside. He didn’t see any shadows, only the excited little boy grabbing the items needed for his soap box car. Alex decided that even if he saw a shadow, he would ignore it.
They worked until dark as they built the little car and tested it a few times down a dirt path. After the last successful run, Christopher jumped out of the soapbox and gave Alex a hug.
“Thanks! I couldn’t have done this without you. Are you going to watch me in the race tomorrow?”
“Sure, kid. I’ll be there.”
“Here, you can borrow my medal for tonight. It will protect you from your nightmares. You can give it back to me at the race.”
Alex felt privileged Christopher trusted him with his dad’s medal. He finally understood how important it was for Christopher to have someone to spend time with. “Thanks, Bug, I’ll take good care of it.”
***
Alex slept in his room that night. With Christopher’s medal in his hand, he closed his eyes and recalled the day he lost the big account at his old job. Demoralized, he sat hunkered in his chair, hovering over piles of paperwork. Alex could remember his boss walking up to his desk, glaring at his worthless mass and scolding, “Someone is here to see you. He asked just to see you, so don’t screw this up!”
An immense figure staggered toward Alex. It popped and creaked as it sat down on a chair beside his desk. It glared at Alex with gray clouded eyes.
The lights in the room dimmed, leaving the space dark and hollow. The clattering of his coworkers silenced as the self-involved people walked off and left Alex alone.
“Dad?”
“Son, I’ve been trying to get a chance to talk to you! Why did you run away?” A look of confusion distorted his dad’s rotting face. Alex stifled the urge to escape again.
“I thought I saw you in the shed a couple of days ago. Was that you?”
“Yes! Why did you ignore me? I just wanted to talk, you know, hang out and maybe build something together.”
“Like my science fair project? It’s a little too late for that. Speaking of which, was that you in my dreams—or nightmares, I should say?”
Alex’s dad leaned forward and smiled. His deformed skin pulled tightly over his skull. “Neat trick, huh? When you are asleep, I can get into your mind.”
“Yeah, that is a neat trick… real neat.” Alex’s fear grew into anger. He remembered standing over his dad’s coffin ten years ago and wishing that he could go back in time and have a genuine relationship with his dad. He wanted his dad to love him. Alex’s regret and shame had been a part of his life for so long that he had hardly noticed it until then.
“Dad, why are you here? You never wanted to be around me before.”
“I know. I want to make up for all the lost time!” His voice rasped as rotting flesh rolled off his cheek. “Aren’t you happy to see me?”
Alex had been haunted with a childhood of loneliness, with a dad who never cared. And now, as a failed adult, he was haunted with this thing before him. Alex wanted to move on.
“Dad, I really wished you were there for me when I was a kid. I would like nothing more than to spend time with you, but you are dead. We can’t spend any time together. I have to go on with my life. I don’t want you around or in my head or anything. Do you understand?”
Sorrow twisted across his dad’s face. He stared at the floor in a hulking mass. Alex felt intense pity for his dad. He wished things could be different, but now understood the past could never change.
Suddenly, the fluorescent lights flickered on in a blinding flash. Alex blinked, and his dad was gone.
***
Alex lifted himself out of bed. The morning light filtered in through the closed drapes. Alex opened the curtains and gazed towards Sara’s house, where Christopher hopped in circles in the front yard. Sara danced alongside him. She wore a t-shirt with Bug’s name written on it in permanent marker. Time for the big race.
Sara looked over at Alex and waved. Alex smiled and waved back, excited about the day ahead.
THE END
