Vanessa had only a split second to
think. Derick was in trouble, while she couldn’t physically help, she needed to
escape so she could at least get to a neighbor. Vanessa scooted on her rear to
the edge of the window sill. She hopped from the window and onto the side walk
beneath. Turning to check on her husband, the last thing she saw was Stocky
side step Derick’s effort with the butcher knife, and swat at Derick’s hand,
knocking the weapon from his grip. Vanessa took off in a hasty sprint.
Stocky grasped Derick’s waist from
underneath his arms, cinched and began to try and wrestle him off balance.
Derick anticipated this and swept his legs out from under him, Derick began to
fall onto the larger figure, with the wish that he might be able to pin Stocky
to the floor.
As the pair fell, Derick heard a
confident voice invade his head; You
won’t do it. I know you won’t.
This was followed by a strange
sensation. Derick felt the weight of the man he was struggling against begin to
dissipate. The two seemed to be falling outside the stream of normal time.
Derick felt his pulse quicken in spite of the feeling that seconds had slowed
to a crawl. In that instant, Stocky’s body itself began to shrink. Or at least
that’s what Derick thought initially. On second glance, as the two began their
trajectory into the carpet, Stocky changed until he wasn’t even Stocky anymore.
Where Derick had moments ago needed the full berth of his arms to hold this
man, he now found ample space between him and his foe.
Stocky’s appearance began to
metamorphose as well. Rapidly the years fell away from him, pounds too. His
face dropped the calculating look of an apparent madman and was given a
countenance of innocence and naivety. Tufts of unkempt facial hair were wiped
away to reveal the smooth cheeks of youth. The moment when Stocky was driven
into the carpet Derick wasn’t staring down at Stocky at all anymore. Derick was
looking into the eyes of a ten year old boy.
Time had righted itself once more.
Mockingly, the butcher knife had reappeared in Derick’s hand.
Hard to say the cause; terror,
primal instinct…but before Derick could help himself the knife was pressed at
the unknown boy’s throat.
The child’s eyes grew wide with the
alarm of uncertainty laced with confusion.
***
In the alley, Vanessa rushed to the
Garrett’s door. She pounded several times, no one answered. It was Sunday, late
evening it wasn’t like Len or Carlie to be away. They’d more than likely be
preparing the kids for the onslaught of another Monday morning.
Vanessa peered through every
window, “Carlie, you there?...Len?...Kids?” Her voice grew weaker, deflating
with every utterance. The house appeared
dark inside, except for the lone glow of Len’s humongous television. The light
from it bathed the living room in a dull grey glow, like an ominous electronic
moon.
She made her way back to the front
door. Eyeballing it and realizing how desperate her situation was, she the
turned the knob. Vanessa was surprised it wasn’t locked.
Stepping lightly across the living
room, she repeated the Garrett’s names again. Vanessa stopped, knowing
inherently that something was wrong. Listening she realized the house had
nothing to say. This was strange indeed, as the Garrett’s had two Springer
spaniels that loved to greet visitors by sniffing, barking and slobbering them
with attention. They too were absent.
Vanessa felt she needed to go
explore the house to ensure it was empty. Quickly though her eyes became
transfixed on the familiar glow of the television. The image wouldn’t have been
so startling if it hadn’t been of her.
Vanessa froze at the realization.
She saw herself, the image that was being broadcast on the television; her
standing in the Garret’s living room, watching herself on the screen.
Immediately, she craned her neck this way and that, searching for the location
of some hidden camera. As if the television version of herself was mocking her,
the movements were mimicked on the screen before her.
Vanessa wanted to scream, but she
found only a small squeak escaped her mouth. Her eyes were on the TV, too
afraid to look at anything else.
Slowly the picture, on which she
gazed, dissolved. The screen that took its place was a familiar one, though no less
disturbing.
As Vanessa’s own image faded away,
it was replaced by her bank's website. She saw the log in screen, and
then with an icy bolt of fear in her belly, watched as her online ID and pass
code were filled in on the screen. Vanessa’s mouth dropped as she saw the
transfer screen being clicked and all the money she had to her name, being sent
to an approved recipient- a name she didn’t recognize.
The screen blinked off silently.
“Vanessa.”
She turned at the sound of her own
name being called. There on the other side of the Garret’s living room was the
woman with the chlorine-stained hair.
The two
women stood feet from one another in a dead stare. Vanessa’s eyes were wide
with fear. Chlorine’s eyes wide with anticipation.
