Chapter 14 – Fourteen Minutes of Calm
No, it was Uncle Mark so far as Lacy was concerned. But why would he be calling her? One of the few mercies in family life was how rarely my father's anger wound up turned in my cousin's direction for one reason or another. Usually because of something he claimed I did or when she rose to defend me.
I wasn't ready for the screen, but I did take some amusement from Lacy's use of "Ahole" for the contact name. Mistaking the red icon for the speaker option instead of a smaller icon off to the side had been how I accidentally ended far too many calls when given the use of a phone more advanced than mine. Fortunately, I restrained my finger and tapped the right thing.
"IS ANYONE THERE HELLO GODDAMMIT?!" He shot out the words without any sense given to structure and pauses, as usual. The trembles returned, along with my bitterness from a thousand conversations that started this way. But I wasn't John at this moment. Squeezing breath from Lacy's lungs, I responded, "Uncle Mark?"
"WHY DOES MY SON HAVE HIS PHONE OFF?! HE'S CLEARLY HIDING OUT OVER THERE!" I was tempted to just turn off speaker since he was loud enough to be heard clearly without it.
As he rambled further about how terrible John was, Lacy and I were likely of the same mind as I used her throat-clearing and a sharply-worded, "EXCUSE ME!" to bring silence to the other end.
He stewed in the void as I answered, "I would appreciate it if you talked to me instead of yelling. I have no idea what is going on. John isn't here."
And he had a short leash as I pressed into his efforts to gather bitter, howling steam. "My grandparents aren't here either. I am in charge of the house and I expect you to treat me respectfully, sir." These were cobbled together bits of phrases Lacy had used here and there over family dinners and whispers of phone calls, slivers of politeness and stern resolve from not giving her mother an inch to get under her skin and into her mind.
As I should've expected, he just heated up and fumed, "Respect?! RESPECT?! You might get my respect if you stopped mooching off my parents and worshiping over my good-for-nothing brat. At least he has a job. WHERE IS HE?!"
Maybe respect was too much to ask and no degree of dogged persistence was going to let me get control over the conversation. Hanging up seemed like a valid resolution but he'd just spam Lacy's number and my only recourse would be to put it in airplane mode. That would just send him flying at the old house with a slamming fist on the nearest door. And with everyone like they were, so many questions would follow.
Tightening Lacy's fingers around the phone, I answered, "John is taking care of family that needs his help. And I am doing my part too. He will be back in around an hour...or two."
He made what sounded like a wet snarl. "I was at his place minutes ago. WHO DOES HE HAVE STAYING THERE?" My breath caught in Lacy's throat as I remembered the shadow.
Covering the speaker, I took a few long breaths and tried to clear my mind. He overreacted all the time and I had to be feeding my own fears of the night with being alone in this old house and all the other crazy stuff that had happened lately. He pressed Lacy in the ear for answers, but I needed to take it easy.
"Uncle Mark, sir, my cousin is an adult who works his own hours. I am tending to the care and safety of my grandparents, your parents, by myself. If you see an intruder at his place, then call the police."
"HE MESSES AROUND! HE'S SCREWING AROUND RIGHT NOW! WHERE IS HE!?"
A pretty regular note from my dad. The temptation to spout off that "he" told me to "tell you to go fuck yourself" was at a personal high but that would get Lacy in as much trouble as me and I was just the caretaker of her for tonight. Hopefully.
"I don't know. He's not here." I wasn't going to just give him more than an exact answer to his question.
"WHAT DO YOU KNOW?! I WONDER! MY SISTER HAS BRAINS BUT YOU LACK ALL SENSE. WAS HE THERE TONIGHT?"
I opted to slide down the volume a little so Lacy's poor little ear didn't start ringing. Let him blow his voice out. As for my answer, he asked the right thing, but I had to think about how much to say. "John was here earlier for a time. We went to Walmart and dealt with many issues that came up. I assume he's enjoying his Halloween. I'm on door duty."
It felt good to speak confidently through the phone to him. In my smattering of education classes before tutoring, they had ideas of how to talk with authority, but they fell flat on my father. All sorts of concepts of psychology barreled over me, but this feeling with Lacy's borrowed voice and measured demeanor finally felt like something clicked.
"WHERE NOW WHERE NOW WHERE NOW WHAT IS HE DOING!?"
"Sir, I don't know where he is. If you send him a text or leave a voice message then I'm sure he will get back to you soon."
"YOU KNOW WHERE HE IS!"
"I'm sorry to say I do not. But I will gladly pass along you are looking for him the next time I see him."
"GRAAAAAHHHGRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGUUUUUURRRRRGAAAAAA!" That wasn't even a word.
"I hope you have a pleasant evening." The click came towards the start of my response, but I finished it anyway. Sighing softly, I hiked the blanket up and amended, "...You angry jerk."
The blanket was nice, clean, and weighty without the caveat of being just too short for my feet. I pinched the edge between Lacy's slim toes. It still wasn't natural or comfortable to sit there as Lacy, especially with her chest settling in ways I sought not to dwell on.
Letting the call trickle from my mind, I flicked the page back to pictures and the third image without any masses or fearful anomalies lingering like people made of black static. Darn it. I faced my dad with more cool than a dozen previous calls. I could...and, with a flick, I did.
Calm settled easily as nothing appeared wrong in the dark places of the foreground or background of the shot, especially when compared to the first two images I'd snapped. Something looked off though. Widening both of Lacy's eyes instead of a single squint didn't resolve what was wrong. Turning it a few times and pinching in also didn't help. It took dipping the phone to the point it almost decided to go to sleep.
The photo was tinted lavender like someone had spread a piece of faintly-purple plastic wrap over the lens. The shade was more subtle than an experimental indie movie I'd seen once that tried to theme its locations to colors like green, brown, and blue but it was inescapable in the way the porch looked much like the bananas in the bowl.
Flicking the image back into the digital ether, I rubbed Lacy's forehead and wished that our grandparents had a proper tub so I could soak her body after the obligations of the evening had slipped away.
Just as I felt like I was starting to put it out of mind, a sudden "fluuuuut" noise happened nearby, like someone had just swiftly ruffled through a book. Turning in the couch with the phone aimed protectively, I didn't see anything amiss in the direction of the sound. Not a book falling off the shelf nor a piece of paper or cloth sloughed off by grandpa's chair.
Checking around me and the other way, I still couldn't figure out the source of the noise. Slipping out of the protection of the blanket, a quick check around me didn't reveal anything either. Just as I was ready to return to the comfort of the blanket, a shifting creak pressed into the ceiling above like a footstep on the second floor not far from the edge of the upstairs bathroom.
At the same moment, I felt a dome of cold, frigid air twist around me, especially at Lacy's feet. Two more creaks followed the first, as though someone was walking towards where Lacy's room would be on the upper floor.
There was no way anyone could be up there. It had to be a small animal seeking shelter between the floors or something, at best. And the cold had to be from whipping the blanket away. Fighting temptation to put Lacy's phone speakers to full and just play the loudest machine gun audio clip, I aimed the light around the darkest part of the seemingly-empty hallway. With the space between the houses and the antics outside, I doubted anyone beyond these walls would raise alarm. Still, best not to get my grandparents in trouble when they couldn't make an appearance.
By the time I figured out to record a video for Lacy and others as proof, not even a mouse fart was audible. The silence was soon broken by another knock at the door which made me jump and jiggle about four feet. This one at least sounded like children knocking. A peek through the side window revealed a group was indeed out there.
This group had a cute little girl in a hummingbird outfit which was rapidly shedding feathers. An older boy had the same idea as Lacy, but his karate outfit had a neon-orange tone that probably reflected some popular show.
Their older brother, wearing wolfman gloves, had his eyes on me. I raised the bowl to Lacy's chest level and kept a blank, but hopefully confident expression as I served out a decent but frugal amount of candy. Lacy still needed enough for her time in the house, alone with whatever the heck was going on.
Fortunately, no one addressed me, so I could shut the door as soon as the group was off the porch and lock all the things the front door allowed me to lock. Shivering despite the fact it wasn't that chilly by the door, I thought back to where I could've left the darn, smelly jacket from the back of my truck cab. It plus the blanket along with whatever else I could find would be perfect.
Clutching to my determination, like grabbing a bundle of jagged sticks, that this was just an old house, I fanned the light on the phone around the main hallway a few times before advancing to the kitchen. The jacket hung off to the side from when I first came in after our treks to the Walmart and my apartment.
Slipping it on added at least some imaginary warmth to Lacy's back and elbows. The second one I wore draped across on the ride back probably still sat on the passenger's side. If I needed that one along with everything else then I was going to bump up the heater by then.
Teeth on the edge of chattering, I mollified them by grabbing and popping two of the chocolates from the bowl in my mouth. The first felt like granulated mud with an edge of powder and the second was an overly-sweet, off-brand Mallomars-like mix.
However, as they sat in my mouth, I noticed they were somewhat warm, like they'd been slipped into the microwave for just a few seconds. Like a quick shot of some nice alcohol, the warmth spread further to my belly and finally arrested the worst of the shivering.
