Chapter 1- The Beginning

Chapter 1

The Beginning

Summer 2007

Tonight, I walk among the dark spirits. It is my five-year anniversary. I had almost forgotten about it; I hadn’t thought of my previous life for a while. My life before seems so long ago. I probably wouldn’t have even thought of it if I didn’t see her again. 

The night smells warm and damp. After all, it is mid July and the humidity is disgustingly high. I know, you wouldn’t think I would be sweating but that’s just how hot it is.

I can’t believe I saw Taylor tonight. She seemed so happy. She was laughing and playing around with her friends, or so it seemed as I peered through the window at her.

 I am extremely torn. I am glad she is happy; I just always wanted to be the reason she was happy. I really hope she jumped right back into the normal teenage girl stuff and didn’t waste time thinking about me too much. 

Oh no, I am getting that nauseous feeling again, like I am going to throw-up. I haven’t felt this way in a long time either, not since that first evening five years ago. I can remember it like it was yesterday, it’s not difficult to conjure up those old feelings of childhood love. It was a time when I actually had feelings.

Summer 2002

I was hanging out with my friends; we were all blowing off summer school. We cut school all the time. Growing up on the east end of Long Island wasn’t very exciting. We had to compensate for the lack of activities available to us. 

There was plenty to do out there in the summer, if we had been years older. All the pretty people with their fancy cars and their wild parties, I had wished I was older everyday.

Marty, Taylor, and I were all hanging out on the beach. We would be tanning, laughing, and playing all summer long. Taylor would join Marty and I only once in a while. For the most part, she was the studious good girl, who listened to whatever her mom and dad told her. I was never a favorite of moms and dads around town. Why she even hung out with us I still don’t know.

 Taylor was pretty. Not just pretty, but she was pretty and didn’t even realize it, which made her even prettier, if that was possible. She was tall with shoulder length blonde hair, athletic, and for a young girl, I think she was sexy. I didn’t really know what sexy was. But, if I had to guess, I would say that sexy was Taylor. She had a smile that made my tummy feel like it does when riding a rollercoaster every time she smiled my way. Taylor stood a few inches shorter than I was, and even though she was a bit of a tomboy, I thought she was perfect.  I used to overhear my dad telling my mom that she was going to be a heartbreaker. That was usually just before they talked about how long it would be before she grew tired of me. She was so pretty. I obviously had a crush on her. I may even still to this day. And now that I think of it, I really think she had one on me too. But that was a time when things were very different. It is funny how lives can change so fast. 

Marty was my best friend, sometimes. There were times I really had fun with him. I really enjoyed hanging out with him. Other times I think I just hung out with him so I would look better by comparison. You know, I was the “other” guy, to his “fat guy”. Marty, to say the least, was a husky boy. He was a good guy, and I know he would have done anything for me. We were closer when we were younger. I blame myself for folding to peer-pressure and the kids laughing at his size. I really wish I had been a better friend and defended him more often. 

I don’t feel much anymore, but about Marty, I feel badly at the way everything went down. The two of us, and sometimes, the three of us were inseparable that summer. Marty didn’t need to go to summer school, but because I had to go, he had his mother sign him up. “Extra help,” she said, “was the key to success.” 

 “This knot in my stomach just won’t go away.” I thought out loud. 

There we were, a sunny summer day, hot as hell, and as humid as a shower. It was so miserable out that we had to keep going in the water to cool off. I know it sounds like a good thing, but we needed to be the cool kids and sit right up next to the boardwalk. It was like a quarter-mile walk to the ocean.

  The beach was usually crowded, but it wasn’t s bad that day. It must have been the really high humidity that kept the crowds away. The movie theaters must be packed. There were some elementary school kids with their parents. Most of them were down by the water. We were the only ones by the boardwalk. Yup, we were the cool kids, when the (real) cool kids didn’t show up. 

Wow, Taylor really nice, floral prints are definitely her thing. She was not wearing anything fancy, shorts and a tee-shirt and her flip flops. We had two big sheets we used as beach blankets. And I always made sure to put my towel in the middle, so that wherever Taylor went, I was next to her. I was so in love with her. 

And then there was Marty, making his way out of the water he looked like a slow motion sequence from a movie. It was getting closer and closer, little children running out of his way, sandcastles crushing under his feet; finally plopping down on his towel, reaching out his hand into the shade of the boardwalk and retrieving a brown bag. It took two hands to handle the monstrosity he pulled out. He opened this big shopping bag ad pulled out a sandwich. I thought it was for all of us. Then he took three big bites of his giant sandwich I got the point. It was his and his alone.. I think he used an entire loaf of bread. Not the sliced bread from the store, but a big old loaf, like from a bakery.

As he put the sandwich back down just inside the shade of the boardwalk, he tried to speak with his mouth full of food, but it came out as a big groan, like a whale call or something. He pointed under the boardwalk. Swallowing forcefully, quickly and obviously painfully, Marty said, “Hey guys, come’eer. Someone’s under there.”

 We walked over and both Taylor and I looked towards where Marty was pointing, but we couldn’t see anything. It was too dark under there and the sun was way too bright out here. I tried to explain that the glare from the sun was too bright but my reasoning was lost on him. Marty just responded by looking angry, “Taylor, do you have your mirror with you? A make-p case? A mirror, ”he repeated with urgency. I had to laugh, Marty was so impatient. 

“I didn’t bring my bag today:” So then Marty just loses it. He gets up and

storms off, kicking sand everywhere he just was. I swear the ground shook with each step he took.

“You think you should go after him?” Taylor asked me.

“No, he’ll be fine. Marty just likes to make a scene. He loves the drama.” I said. 

That’s when it happened. Like so many times before, Taylor and I were alone. Well us and Mr. Awkward Silence. Not just silence, dead silence. After about eight minutes of agony I thought this time would be different. This is the perfect opportunity. I began to think, no, no, I believed that this was the perfect opportunity to share my feelings for Taylor. The sun was out, the birds were singing, I didn’t have any sand in my bathing suit yet and we were having fun; until just this moment. I lost my nerve and scared myself into my little shell and spending eight minutes in there, disgusted myself sufficiently enough to just do it. I just had to raise up some courage somehow. I was extremely shy, so I tried to psych myself up. I said to myself over and over, “Just tell her you like her. Just tell her you like her. Just tell her you like her. Just tell her”- and before I built the courage up to talk to her, to say anything to her, the ground began to shake again. I was so close!

 “Argh! What the heck is he doing?”  It was Marty, and he had a tin trash can lid with him. The way he was passing it from hand to hand and back again almost like he was juggling or something, it looked like it had been in the sun all day. Even though the sight was real amusing, his bad timing was beginning to really bother me.

“Ok, check this out,” Marty said as he approached us.

 “I can’t believe this.” I thought to myself. “What are you doing with the trash can lid?” I asked with a noticeable irritation in my voice.                                                              

“So you guys can see it, that animal under the boardwalk.” He said.

“What’s the big deal, Marty?” Taylor questioned. She sounded a bit annoyed too. 

“Hey!” Marty shouted,” Who ate my sandwich?” Marty sounded really angry now and you do not want to play around with his food.

 “Maybe it was your friend under the boardwalk.” I snapped sarcastically. Taylor started to laugh, which seemed to make Marty even angrier. He began fiddling with the trash can lid so it began reflecting the sun. He managed to hit nearly every adult on the beach that day in the eyes with the reflective sunlight right in the eyes, as well as myself and Taylor.  I was getting so frustrated that he couldn’t figure out how to reflect the sun so that it went where he wanted it to go. Something this simple and he couldn’t figure it out.

“And I am the one in summer school.” I mumbled as I grabbed the lid from his hand. I angled it so the sun was hitting the top of the boardwalk, and slowly moved the beam of reflective light from the left to the right across the shadows underneath the boardwalk. We heard noises like scampering and rustling from in front of the beam of light.

 “Faster!” Marty cried out. 

“Over there, over there.” Taylor pointed. 

I moved the lid too fast and overshot whatever we were trying to see, then moved back. I was on the object for no more than a quick second. It looked like it could have been a man, or a dog, or even just a bag of garbage. 

“F L A S H”

Prologue

From my bedroom window there is so much I can see. Some days I just stay up here with my dog Cricket and look down on the world and lose track of time. There is Mr. Stars waxing his car. Yes, he is waxing it at night. One night I had to know why so I went outside and asked him about it. Wow, that was a mistake. He gave me a science lesson, using words like polymers and chemical bonds. It was something about the sun reacting with the wax and heat of the car. I wish he just told me that it’s the only chance he had during the day. 

Mrs. Collins is vacuuming her living room for the sixth time this week. What could they possibly do in that house to make it that dirty? There’s good old Dr. Harry. I don’t really consider him a real doctor, he’s just a psychiatrist. These days I see him way too often. It looks like he is running late tonight for his regular 8:30 run to his mailbox. He must have had a marathon session with the Spencer kid after I had left him. That Spencer kid is bananas. Oh, and there is Susan, sitting in her window doing exactly what I am doing, but the difference is that she writes everything down. She is as crazy as the Spencer kid. No wonder Dr. Harry has such a good business, he is right in the heart of Crazytown, Long Island.

Usually when I see Susan doing her thing, I get embarrassed that her thing is my thing as well. Usually this is the point where I leave my window and turn on the television or play a video game or something else just as unproductive.  This night it even looks like Cricket is embarrassed for me. “I need a life.” I said as I rested my head on my folded arms. 

I must have fallen asleep on the windowsill. Here I am, drool leaking from my mouth, running down my cheek, creases in my arm and on my face. It must have been sometime towards the middle of the night. I am not sure if a noise woke me up, or this weird dream I was having about flying around the neighborhood.  It was just me, no plane or even a jetpack; I was flying like a bird.  Anyway, I looked at the clock and it is only 10:30. I rubbed my eyes once, twice and three times.

 “Ah that was better, now let’s see what going on out here.” Mr. Stars was gone, but his car was shining bright. Mrs. Collins was not vacuuming anymore, but it looked like Mr. Collins was making a bed out of his couch. “Uh oh, trouble in paradise.” Wait a second, Susan wasn’t at her window. Did she find somewhere else to be? I noticed that her bedroom window was open. I started scanning down from her bedroom window. Down, down and - Ah! She’s standing outside of my window.

“Todd!” she yell whispered. 

“What are you doing Susan? It’s almost 11.” I rebutted with annoyance. 

“Todd, you’ve got to listen to me.  I saw the weirdest thing- Marty and- and then Dr. Harry- This little girl-. Oh my god, it was so freaky. I got chills.” 

“What?” I began laughing. “I don’t have any clue what you’re trying to say to me.” 

“Ok, let me slow down,” she took a pause and a deep breath and proceeded to go on for about a half hour with this very unbelievable story. I shouldn’t breeze over it though.

Susan’s story went something like this, 

So, it was 8:45, Doctor Harry is at his mailbox at the end of his driveway flipping through his mail like he always does. He sure does get a lot of mail. 

As she spoke I realized I saw Dr. Harry going for his mail. That’s when I had fallen asleep. 

Along came Marty, two-hundred and fifty pounds of disheveled teenage blubber complete with a dirty oil stained, smelly sweatshirt hanging off his body, I can almost smell him. Marty walked up to the Doctor and he seemed to be in a panic and sweating a lot, even for Marty it was a lot of sweat. He seemed very anxious and stumbled right into the Doctor. Marty could not avoid a conversation then, even if it was only to apologize. There was no apology here.

“Harry! We’ve got to go! Run man Run!” he yelled in the Harry’s face, getting little drops of spit on the doctor’s suit. Marty and the Doc knew one another from therapy, so of course the doctor recognized him. Harry knew something was wrong. We were just talking about Marty earlier. Marty began running down the street or what was the equivalent of running for him. The doctor yelled out and told Marty to come back. Marty walked over very sloth like. Marty always could frustrate the hell out of adults by his blatant disrespect in his actions. He rarely said anything disrespectful, but he definitely got his message across with his actions, like the “slow walk”, he was a master at that.

“It is you Marty isn’t it?” Harry asked. Marty just kept his head down, staring at the ground and slowly walked towards the doctor. 

“How can it be? How is it possible?” The doctor asked. “Where have you been? How did you survive that fire?”  Noticing Marty’s head had scar tissue on it from a burn he reached his hand out to inspect the scar.

That’s when it happened. Marty snapped. He began screaming and spitting as he yelled profanity after profanity and then got right up in the Doc’s face. 

Harry was in good shape for an older guy, and was quick to back up and put his hands up in defense. That’s when the Doctor began to piece things together. He began making some kind of accusations at Marty, pointing his index finger in his face, very animated and very loud. 

Marty paused for a moment, smiled, and even a small giggle escaped his body. He reached out and in one fluid motion, lunged forward and bit the accusatory fingers that were in his face. Marty bit the fingers clean off at the knuckle and swallowed them whole. All that was left was Harry’s pinky and half of his ring finger. Marty must have broken a tooth on the Doctor’s ring, which was found in the street later, covered in blood.

In shock, the Doc just watched as Marty wiped the blood off his mouth with his sleeve. Marty once again lunged at the Doctor, who was coming to his faculties, and began running away. The Doctor disappeared down the dark street in a flash. Marty gave chase, as only Marty could, very slowly. I had to follow them, too. The Doc was losing blood, and running in a panic for his life. As he went deeper into the neighborhood, Susan said she had noticed that the streets got darker, and more difficult to maneuver. 

Marty was unable to keep up so Harry, after running full speed for a few blocks, was able to slow down to a jog. He stumbled over curbs, sideswiped parked cars, and finally tripped in a pothole and fell down in the middle of a street. Harry lay there for a moment, clearly exhausted, and looked up.

As he looked up from the pavement I saw a small light coming from the end of the block and a silhouetted outline appeared almost out of nowhere. It was a little girl and she was moving closer. He crawled over towards the curb and propped himself into a kneeling position. The girl did not say anything, but came closer and closer, and was now directly in front of him. This sweeter than ever little voice spoke, “Hey Mister, what’s the matter?” 

“Oh my god, what are you doing out here so late? We need to get you off the streets; we need to get you inside.” He said as he struggled to reach his feet. 

“What is your name, sweetie? Which house is yours?”

“I’m Sally, but don’t worry. Everything is O.K. Harry, I like it out here.”  The little girl said, in a very matter of fact, and suddenly very adult sounding voice. Harry froze in place as if he knew something was very wrong.  Harry slowly turned his head; the light was bringing the girl into fully illuminated view rather than just the silhouette she was up until now. The girls face began to show clear as she lunged toward his face with her long sharp teeth crookedly glaring in the reflective light. She was too fast; he couldn’t do anything to stop it. He just sat there as she dug in once, twice and a third time before she ripped and twisted his head back and forth, like a wild animal. Marty soon ran up on them and joined in the feast. It must have been a horrific scene. They both sat up and proceeded to lick the blood off of one another’s face.

 “We are such a great couple,” Sally giggled. Marty just kept on devouring the good Doctor’s back, like he was some sort of scavenger. “I guess that’s what he is now,” Susan added, “nothing but a scavenger.” 

“That is a great story and at the same time the most unbelievable pile of garbage I have ever heard,” I told her laughing the whole time. “I think you need Dr. Harry to up your meds.” 

“Huh?!? What the-?” I jumped up. One-second I am laughing with Susan and without pause, without anytime at all passing it seemed; the very next moment its morning and I am in bed. Maybe it was another dream; a much weird and more unbelievable dream. I was still groggy when my alarm clock went off to wake me for summer school. Stretching my arms and looking around, I caught a glimpse of Susan’s bedroom window, it was open.