IS
25

Hours had passed, but seemed to be mere minutes to Alley, as she laid next to her mother’s still, somber body. The room was silent, distant and cut off from the distortion of wind which even now wreaked havoc just the other side of her bedroom wall. She wasn’t all that sure she would ever sleep again as she looked over her mother’s dormant face, wondering how she could have ever found it possible to slip away, herself. Alley laid there wide-eyed but submissively quiet and still, reluctantly reminiscing over the night’s events-–when something passed by the window, catching her eye and tugging sharply at her heart.

“What?” she whispered softly, questioning her senses at such an ungodly hour. This wasn’t happening. Not now, not while she sat there, as good as alone. Alley looked to her mother again, fighting with the idea of waking her. But what if it were nothing? What if she prematurely awakened her for no good reason, feeding her with more reason to question her daughter’s delusional state of being? Alley was sure she had put on quite a show for everyone earlier. She had also overheard her mother talking to her grandmother, something about having tests done.

She knew everyone thought she was crazy-–but not her Dad! God, she missed him. She wished he were here right now… There it was again! Only this time the shadow lingered a bit longer before finally moving away. She felt a tiny sense of satisfaction that a blind covered the seemingly-active window only ten feet away and directly across from her bed.

Her mind began to envision the glass behind it and how much protection it would sustain against anyone, or anything that chose to–- and then there was a quiet tapping sound at the pane; a constant and slightly louder than silent intrusion that interrupted her thought, beckoning her attention. Her heart was racing, and she could feel the rise of pressure heating her face, burning her ears. She looked to her mother again, and tried to swallow. She felt far too young to be thrown into the odds of so much responsibility and angst; a lost lamb in the den of lions, or at least one white lion in particular.

She closed her eyes and could see his face. It was a manifestation of evil, blinding white obscurity that riddled her mind’s eye. A daunting figure of neither beast nor man that stood strong within the powerful wind that rippled and pulled at his tattered black shirt and pants, as he motioned for her to join him amongst the sand and surf. She wanted to open her eyes and leave this vision behind, only there was no leaving what had become hypnotic and real; a living, translucent beacon in the darkness, calling for her.

“No. What do you want with me?” she mumbled quietly, disturbing her sedate surroundings. There was no need for closed eyes anymore when it came to seeing his face. She looked toward the drab window shade before her, but saw something much more beyond; something that paralyzed her will for any or all restraint, or conviction.

He was calling for her, and for whatever unforeseen reason, or power involved, she felt herself compelled to go to him. She was in awe at how she could be writhing in complete terror one minute, and then the next, pulled toward the attention of something that had given her reason to fear for her life–-as well as her Father’s.

Alley moved off her side of the bed and traveled across the floor to the window that had stolen all of her attention for some time now. Once her tiny frame was front stage and center to the large window frame in front of her, she glanced back over her shoulder to her mother’s sleeping body one last time before reaching forward and tugging lightly at the bottom of the shade. She let her hand slowly travel up with it.

The dark but dimly lit outdoors came to life again, revealing him in the distance, standing bold and strong; a true pillar of mystical fear, with uncertain and mysterious ramifications that chilled her to the bone. Her lungs taxed hard with every breath, and yet, felt an unexplainable will to accept his request. It had to be close to eighty degrees, but the small and timid girl was freezing as she made her way barefoot across the shiny hardwood floor, spanning the living room and then completing her journey at the back patio.

As she opened the patio door and the screen door behind it, a quiet creak was all the announcement that would be heard. The patio security light was enough to let her catch a glimpse of the infamous wind chimes that, until now, had been adamant from the second story balcony, now dead to the ocean air and half buried in the white sand only yards away.

He was there, standing forefront to a weak moon smothered by an onslaught of dark passing clouds behind him; transcending any or all conceptions of what a true nightmare should be.

Her tiny heart was working overtime when she finally let go of the screen door, feeling as though she had crossed a boundary to where she didn’t belong. But then she remembered her father and everything she had seen him go through. It was while she envisioned her dad that she also mysteriously heard his voice.

“Don’t be frightened, Alley.”

It took only seconds of searching her surroundings before she came to realize that the voice was coming from within her, as if it were her own thought; beguiled of true and twisted magical essence. Her mind had gone blank. It was as if everything had been sucked out, right then and there. And it was with the next words he spoke, that her mind, as well as her emotions, found their way back again.

“You need not fear me, Peanut,” she heard her father’s voice say. It was her father’s voice, all right, but she knew he didn’t talk like that; so strangely formal, and yet, using her dad’s pet name for her. How dared he! She was definitely her father’s girl, as a streak of anger filtered in alongside her fear.

“Why did you call me that? Why do you sound like him?” She started to cry, trudging slowly but compellingly in his direction, feeling the strong yearning for her father as she continued to battle the strong wind that insistently tried to stop her, when she spoke again. “Why do you sound like my dad?” she yelled out hysterically, falling to her knees maybe ten yards from him, overwhelmed by several emotions all at once.

Alley closed her eyes only for a second, using her shirt to wipe her face. When she opened them, her nightmare was directly in front of her, tipping his head to one side, looking almost concerned with her condition.

This shocked her. She leaped to her feet and stepped back a few paces, losing her balance and falling backwards into the sand yet again.

He raised his hands as if to contain her fear, trying to show his abstinence from anything bad or evil. “I would never hurt you, Alley,” he said, as he moved forward, lending his bleach white hand to help her up.

She looked up at him with amazed terror, until the moment became awkward and he pulled his hand back. His ghastly white appearance frightened her more so than anything she had ever experienced in person, ever before. Even more than the clowns that toyed with her at a carnival when she was five. Whoever thought clowns were a funny and whimsical experience never had the joy of being in their presence as a small child.

And yet, even as horrifying as his presence was, Alley acknowledged something almost endearing in him; a mesmerizing standard of innocent persona that left her confused, and with questions.

“I don’t understand. Who are you, and why do you sound like my father?” she asked again, standing on her own and backing away to what she felt to be a tolerable distance. Even through the mighty breeze that was upon them, his disgusting odor was ever present.

“I know you have many questions… I am afraid you may replace it very difficult to conceive the answers,” he responded.

“I only asked two!” she said with a smart tone in her voice. With that, she glanced back over her shoulder towards the house, wondering if it were possible that through all of this there still remained four sleeping bodies in there.

The windows still appeared dark and lifeless, but a chill came over her at the thought of her mother watching all of this from a dark, quiet room. She turned to face to her omniscient visitor, overwhelmed by his appearance again, as if she had just seen him for the first time. There couldn’t have been a more brave nine year old in the entire country. No one could be braver than little Alley, who now stood face to face with this terrifying white presence.

“You don’t seem evil to me – but I felt, and saw things-–horrible things!”

“Yes, I know you have, Alley. But those horrible things you have witnessed, were done by another one of my kind.”

“There’s more of you out there?”

“Many more. Only you have the gift to see the evil one that comes for your father and for me.”

He went on to explain who he was and everything he had explained to her father. Details of how and why he had come out of the box, risking his existence just for the chance to finally meet her father in person.

“But, I don’t understand why you finally did that, after all these years!” she stated.

“I have given that much thought,” he continued. “I feel that maybe I have evolved into something different from the rest of my kind. This will sound a bit–-” and then he paused for a moment to think of the right word. “—Odd! Yes, odd” He smiled, feeling proud of his choice. “But it is as if I sometimes can feel human emotion. I think that is why I was drawn to finally meet Joshua.”

“My dad,” Alley responded.

“Yes. Your father,” he reiterated. “As a child, much like you, he saw me. I do not understand to this day why no punishment ever followed that incident, but it never did. It only enticed my hunger to talk with him, to experience his full attention and acceptance.”

Somehow, Alley wasn’t so put off by his presence any longer. Her young mind seemed to accept everything he was telling her, even as frightening as it, or he, appeared. It was almost as if it were some ominous fairytale that she would eventually be able to escape from and reinstate herself back to the life she had grown accustomed to, back before everything had gone so wrong. For whatever reason, her mind and heart wouldn’t let her perceive this to be anything but a temporary glitch; too outlandish for any future foundation of life.

“You are a very fascinating girl, Alley, but my true intentions for coming to you are of great importance!”

She looked at him puzzled, but also receptive. “There’s something I can do?” she asked.

“These visions you have… although they appear to be an unpleasant burden to you now, they are the answer within you that may save your fathers’ life.”

“I still don’t understand!” she said. “How can my horrible visions do anything but scare the heck out of me?”

“There is a power within you much stronger than you know. You only see what shines off of it; reflections of what is truly there… Do you understand?”

“I–-don’t know,” she responded, feeling overwhelmed and forcibly interceded into a reality she, until now, had wanted very much to deny. But since there was no denying the strange ashen being standing before her, she would at least have to come to terms with the fact that maybe this was all too real to not be taken seriously. Especially if everything the pale stranger said was true, and her father’s life was at stake. Suddenly, she was overcome by the intensity of it all, and little Alley Stone began to cry. “I don’t want to do this anymore!” she whimpered. “I want to go back to how it used to be!” She pulled up the bottom of her shirt once more to blot her eyes.

“Al?” It was her brother’s voice that made her jolt with surprise this time, as she released her shirt and spun around to replace Shane, now twenty feet from her and still approaching. She couldn’t believe he looked so calm in the presence of what stood behind her.

“Shane! Don’t be scared!” she called to him with a calming tone in her voice.

“Scared of what? You?”

Alley turned to replace that she was alone, as another gust rushed into her, making it hard to breathe. Surprise chilled her deeply as she turned back to her brother, and he read the astonished look on her face.

“What are you doing out here… are you okay?” he asked, at a volume just shy of a yell, feeling a bit nervous for a response. The wind was still battering the two of them.

Alley turned around and ran the remaining few yards to the edge of the embankment, scanning the beach below, and then spinning back again, as her eyes searched everywhere around them.

“Alley!” Shane shouted, as she continued to search, avoiding his presence until he finally grabbed hold of her arm and pulled her to him. “What’s going on?” he yelled. Their eyes met, and she embraced him–-hard and tight, as if she would fall if she were to let go of him. He could feel her trembling like the frightened child she actually was. Until now, he had forgotten that. It was at that very moment that Shane was brought back to the remembrance of his place in her life. He was her big brother, and it should be his job to look out for, and take care of her. After a minute he pulled back and looked her in the face and asked again, “Are you okay?”

“I don’t think so,” she responded, looking as though she had just seen a ghost. And as far as she was concerned, maybe she had. Or maybe she was just losing her mind. She couldn’t understand why this was happening to her. She felt that there must be some higher reason for why she was being punished.

“Monsters?” Shane asked.

“Just one,” Alley responded.

“Come on,” Shane said, as he put his arm around her, and they fought their way back towards the house. When they reached the screen door, he opened it for her. He really wasn’t all that sure about the whole monster thing. He knew she believed it, and he could see what this crazy fantasy was doing to her; how it was twisting her mind. But hey-–she was a nine year old kid, and he was twelve. Only kids believed in monsters.

Alley proceeded in, and Shane followed. He watched her move across the quiet, open living room space, fearful even now of her surroundings. She finally reached her bedroom door and turned to give her big brother an appreciative look before disappearing into her quarters of slumber; something she would be tested on doing tonight.

He then closed and locked the screen door. But, before closing the final patio door, before closing out the night and everything that existed in it, Shane took a minute or two to stare and wonder. He spent a short time gazing and challenging his beliefs and the possibility of contradictions to reality as he knew it. He then shook his head as a halfhearted smile responded on his face. But maybe it was only a smile consisting purely of false pretense, since his hand was shaking as he reached for the knob to pull the door shut. He checked the locking mechanism twice before retiring to his own room.

Having broken the ice with Alley in the unmitigated flesh, Powder came back to her in her mind once she was settled back into the quiet surroundings of her cool, dark room again; just as her body could no longer sustain being awake, and she was beginning to finally drift away. Her mind wavered within a purgatory state, between conscious and the unconscious. He told her things he hadn’t yet told her father, answers to every notion she could have ever conceived in the quiet corners of her conscience.

He wanted to earn her trust. He needed to attain a special bond with her, if they were to have any chance of saving her father’s life. There was much to learn, and a very small amount of time in which to do so. With his guidance, she would learn to harness her special talent; a very rare and special talent indeed. In fact, only a few children within the passing of every century are bestowed with such a gift.

Until now, no human has ever realized its potential. Most were likely marked as crazy, and eventually institutionalized. Or, in much earlier times, burned at the stake. Humans fear what they are unable to understand. And, especially the soul of a young girl who, before all this happened, worried about things more relative to the normal day to day life of a fourth grade child.

Not of her own will, Alley had matured a great deal further than a normal kid of her age. She had no choice. She had been forced to feel and face crisis at its finest, and so far, had weathered the storm with little casualty… but tomorrow was another day.