Darkness Within

Friday 21st September 2018, 2:30

He opened his eyes, and saw nothing. 

He moved his hands but not more than an inch. Something kept them to the hard surface. The toes were free, but not the knees, neither the waist nor the neck.  

His head starts beating , hands shake noiselessly in his bonds. The gag does not help the screams nor the drumming headache yet he screams to his heart's content. 

                                                                                ***

Mr. Collins stood in the reading hall; his eyes distant. The library was a melting pot of the haves and have-nots, though mostly have-nots. He turned to leave when the corner of his eyes got caught at a redhead and checkered back, bend over on a table at the far end of the hall. He began navigating his way through the tables and chairs, towards him. A hand reached out and grabbed the boy’s shoulder, and the startled, fiery redhead turned to look at him. Mr. Collins let a heavy breath escaped his mouth. It wasn’t him. The boy now raised his eyebrows at the tall, balding man. Sorry, Collins mouthed and patted the boy. The boy shrugged and went back to his writing.

He gets out of the hall and on the stairs. He looks up and then looks at his car outside the window. He takes out his phone. 1:30. His face resigned, and foot climbed the stairs. 

I better not find you here.  Mr. Collins had sweat patches on a relatively cold October evening. A strong stench of filth and decay from the forthcoming floor masked the odd-timed odor. The hall on this floor had the same structure as the previous one. The evening light coming from a broken window, and a few lit candles, were just lazy about showing the faces all around him. Eyes adjusted, all he had to do was find red in the grey, easy. 

One arm flung over her head romantically, and the other arm lay by her side, fingers touching an open book. The lines of her mouth drooled foam on one side and a lopsided smile on the other. He turned his head away and took his first gulp of air. Her eyes did not smile though it seemed peaceful. Collins winced at the sight. It wasn’t enough, he opened his mouth and ate mouthfuls of dust and a cloud of odor. Another man lay on his side and snored, a few feet away, the hair falling off his head, maggots, rising from the mattress crawled up his toes. 

The smell of chocolate rose from the corner, Mr. Collins turned to his right, to see a woman lighting the bottom of a spoon. He looked around, the hall, checked for the head, in each lying body. Some were motionless, ashen-faced, purpled lips, and dried drool. Maybe dreaming about someplace better. Many were breathing, but had their skin hanging from their bones, their lips slowly turning brown. Unable to stop themselves from falling over the edge. Some were incredibly thin, but looked better. Maybe they had a chance, but they had distant eyes. He found a solitary healthy man sitting in another corner. He ignored the man and turned, walked around the misplaced empty bookshelf to find another person drowning in his or her vomit, silently. 

Mr. Collins started at the touch on his arm and turned around and face the perfectly healthy man. He felt the man glared at him through the dark.

“Looking for someone?” Mr. Collins stared back; a shock of tattoos covered the bald man’s face; he could not make out a single feature of that visage. 

“Hmm? Looking for someone?” he asked again. Maybe his eyes narrowed at Mr. Collins, who just took out his phone and thrust that in his face. The man surely did peer with his barely visible eyes this time. Mr. Collins waited patiently. After a few seconds, He responded in negative. Neither uttered a word. Mr. Collins nodded his head in acknowledgment.

Mrs. Collins was waiting outside, her feet tapping on the floor of the car, eyes fixed on the entrance. Mr. Collins emerged from the building, cigarette in mouth and shook his head at her. Mrs. Collins decided to direct her gaze at a back of a truck, where a cruel poster mocked her “Find what you are seeking for right here!”, it read. She started to tear up, but she held them back, and thin fiery red hair was pushed back in a pony tail.

She looked back at him; he was smoking, deep in thought. She picked up her phone dialed a number and called. She kept her eyes on the dashboard as it rang. A few seconds later, she brought her phone back down. She dialed a second number, which went unanswered as well. She looked at the man with the cigarette again. Her eyes were a mix of a lot of things. She shut her eyes and stayed there for a few more seconds, and took in four controlled breaths. The breathing got the focus back on her body, she brought her feet to a halt. She reached for her flask and took three heavy gulps of water, and began counting backwards from ten.

She reached one, and the car door to her right opened. Mr. Collins took his seat at the wheel. The smell of cigarette sweat filled the car. She opened her mouth to say something but he leaned in. He brushed away a stray and cupped her face. The tears threatened to overflow in response to his thumb rubbing gently against her cheeks. A tear fell from her eyes and she hiccupped a little. He reached out another hand and held one of hers. She tightened her fingers around his as one tear followed the other.

He did not try and stop her. After a few moments, she pointed at the road, and took a deep breath and wiped her tears away. The tapping returned and she let go of his hands, “The station, now?” she said, barely audible. He sighed and nodded.

“Any other place you remember?” Mr. Collins asked, with his hand on the ignition key. She shook her head, and began sniveling. Mr. Collins rolled up the windows, then he steered out of the parking lot.

 The trip to the station grew quiet, except for the tap-tap-tap tap of leather against plastic. Mr. Collins glanced at her moving feet and then looked away, took a deep breath and let out another sigh. The road was empty and dark during this hour.

Mrs. Collins peeled her eyes for a ghost of a lanky six-foot boy on the side walk. A melodic ring tone snapped at her. She snatched it from the dash board—

“Ethan?”

“Mrs. Collins? You called?” the voice of a female could be heard all the way to the steering wheel.

Mrs. Collins sighed, for the hundredth time, and put her other hand to the forehead “Yes dear, do you know where Ethan is?”

“No. I last saw him at school”, she replied. “Is something wrong?”

“uhmm do you know if there is a party or something that he might be at?”, Mrs. Collins tried a different line of enquiry.

“Not that I know of. Is he okay? Is he lost? Should I call more friends and get back to you?” Mr. And Mrs. Collins exchanged a look.

“Thank you dear, that would be really helpful” The phone disconnected before Mrs. Collins could say “goodbye”. Mrs. Collins’ slumped in her seat, her face was lined with worry and defeat and her mouth was set in determination and the eyes were fixed on the sidewalk. She looked at her husband who met her eyes and kept driving, his face not giving away a thing.

A car parked itself at the public parking. The couple walked up to the grim building.

Mr. Collins took his wife’s hands. A van rushed past them. It stopped in front of an unmarked door. Men jumped out of the back door. They dismounted a body and carried it inside. Mrs. Collins looked away.

 They entered the building, through a door which read “Entrance”.  The smell of coffee hit them in the face like a solid brick. The officer at the desk noticed them and his kind face was bathing in blue light from the monitor as the couple came up to him.  

“How may I help you?” the officer asked.

“Our son Ethan is missing.” Mrs. Collins replied with a heavy voice. The officer got up and out from behind the table, and gestured the couple to follow him. They found themselves in a waiting room. The officer went out, with their identifications, leaving them there. Five minutes later the officer returned informed the couple that the missing person’s unit has been contacted and one of them is on his way here. Then officer then asked if they would like some coffee, and on being declined, left the room.

 Mr. Collins settled in the sofa and hung his head over the back rest, slipped his hips to the edge and stretched his leg, unlike his wife who was barely sitting on the edge. He put a hand on her restless leg, she ignored the touch and the leg kept moving under his hand. Mr. Collins looked around, there was a central air conditioning vent on one side. He got up and stood under it. A faint flowing air, just warm enough. Mrs. Collins noisily took in a huge breath and let out, simultaneously sank her whole body. She felt it too. He came back and sat down beside her again. At a distance. He looked at the ceiling and the wall of air weighing down on them.  

Mrs. Collins teared up gain. She put her head on his shoulder. Mr. Collins looked down at her head, and shifted his hips a little. He then moved his arms around her.  He blinked slowly, and shifted again but did not move. At least the feet tapping was off. The tears were already soaking his shirt at the shoulders when different officer walked into the room, coffee in one hand and a notebook in another. He looked at the couple and settled in one of the chairs.

“First, some basic information and then we go on about your son okay?” The officer said. Mr. Collins noticed the name “Of. M. Delmor” on batch attached to the officer’s shirt.

“Your names please.” The officer began, assuming his writing stance.

“Hanna Collins and David Collins.” Hanna replied.

“Your son’s name?”

“Ethan Garner”

The officer paused and asked the next question, “How long have you been married?”

“5 years.”

“Divorced?”

“No, his father died five years ago.”

“How old is Ethan?”

“Seventeen”

“Address?”

“23/B Ashton street”

“School?”

“Belt hall High School”

“When did you last see him?”

“In the morning, I dropped him at school, his car broke down” David finally spoke.

“Do you have a photograph?” Hanna fished one out of her purse and handed it to the officer. Officer Delmor had a good look at it and took some more notes and pocketed the photograph.

“Now can you please describe him, height, voice, what he was last wearing, anything that comes to your mind,” the officer waved his hand in the air, making circles with his pen.

David continued, “He is about six feet and was wearing a blue denim finish shirt and black jeans and he has an ocher yellow sling and black Nike shoes.”

“When did you notice him missing”

“He didn’t come back from school at four, I initially thought that he must be stuck somewhere so I tried calling but he didn’t pick up. But after few more hours I started calling his friends. None of them had seen him after school,” Hanna’s tapping returned as she spoke.

“Girlfriend?”

“Yes, Marie, she didn’t pick up either initially so I assumed they were together”

“Maybe they are?”

“No, she called back a few minutes ago. She hasn’t seen him since the school either. She is all worried now, poor girl,” Hanna shook her head, “and she is asking around to help.” The officer’s hand followed every word. Meanwhile, David was lost staring at the furiously moving pen.

“Mrs. Collins, boys of this age wander off, maybe a party or something but we will do the necessary enquiry. Is there anything else you want to add? Any odd behavior in the last few days? Maybe a fight at school? Stress of some sort?”

Hanna frowned; David slouched on the couch, shaking his head at the ground.

“Any other family member he might have gone to?”  

Hanna nodded, “We have asked everyone to call back if he contacts them.”

The officer quietly finished his notes and handed over the notepad and pen to Mrs. Collins saying,“Ma’am, please write down your numbers and add Ethan number too”.

Mrs. Collins did as she was requested and returned the notepad. The officer admired his notes one last time and left the room. Hanna leaned back in the seat and took a deep breath and closed her eyes let her head drop back, as if sending a silent prayer. A few moments later the officer returned, “You guys should go home. We will call you as soon as all enquiries are done. Also, if he returns home please contact us immediately,” he handed over a business card to both Hanna and David. Hanna put hers in the purse and David placed his in the pocket and they both walked out of the station.

 The drive home was a long one. Hanna dozed off in the passenger’s seat. He could see the marks left behind by the dried up tears. David glanced at the watch in the dashboard, and continued rubbing his aching neck till they got home. As Hanna was unlocking the front door, David observed the road through rising cigarette smoke. The night seemed darker than usual. They had started to take off their shoes, when the home telephone rang. It was a concerned Marie’s mother this time. “Hanna? Is everything alright? Marie just told me everything. She has called everyone she knew. No one knows where he is.”

“Well, we have already filed a report.” Hanna replied

“Good Good. He will be back okay? It will be alright.”

“Yes, I hope so.” Hanna said, and then added quietly “I hope so”

 “Take some rest sweety, I will check in tomorrow. Good bye”

 “Ya, I will,” Hanna lied, “Goodbye”. Hanna put back the receiver, dragged herself over and crashed on the couch. David had already changed and made his way downstairs.

 “Would you like something to eat?” he asked.

 “No”, she said, and switched on the television. David began preparing a peanut butter and jam sandwich and arranging them in a plate, in a circular fashion He looked at fascinating bright head staring the television from time to time. There was nothing on. Just advertisements. Housewives telling you how a bottle changed their lives. David took a step back and admired his artwork and corrected a corner. He took the plate up fashionably in one hand. He started out just as Hanna stood up in a huff leaving the television on, and climbed upstairs. He stood still and heard her footsteps going to Ethan’s bedroom. So he took the presentation up. 

Hanna was on Ethan’s laptop going through his social media. David entering the room did not deter her concentration. He kept the plate on the table, took one for himself and then walked over to the closet and shut it. Then he assumed a relaxed stance covering the window.

“You knew is password?” David had a mocking edge to his voice

“Nope. He was logged in.” she dutifully ignored it.

“He will not take it very kindly,” David paused, “you going through his stuff”

“hmm- hmm” Hanna clicked on a different photo

“He didn’t run away, you know”

“Ya you would say that.”

David raised his shoulders and eyebrows. And then let them drop and focused on finishing the sandwich with two big bites.

“Some of his clothes are gone. So is the money that he used to stash in under the mattress,” Hanna replied at the silence, “How long have you been planning this?” she whispered.

David watched the road leading up to the garage that doubled up for a storage room and a workshop for the wooden things he build. He made this bed for Ethan. It has a secret trap for the magazines he didn’t want his mom to know about. Why didn’t he keep the money there? Once when he was younger his mom caught him watching porn. When he was questioned about it, he outright denied the very existence of it. David had laughed in the corner as the interrogation became a lecture about lying, and the matter was never addressed again.

David’s mind came back into room when Hanna huffed and exhaled and got out of the chair. She left the room, and David picked up the plate after her. She went over to the phone, and stopped short. She took a sharp turn to and faced David, who stared back, with the plate still in his hands.

“Hungry?” he extended the plate. Hanna brushed off his hand and went over to her purse and fished out the officer’s business card.  

“Honey, what are you calling the officer for?” David gently asked.  

“To tell him the clothes are missing”

“Don’t. They are just going to say he ran away and not look for him. What if he is in actual danger?”

Hanna’s shoulders fell and with it the receiver was put back. She went over to the couch and slopped down to stare at the television again. David quietly took a big gulp of air. He then straightened up and joined his wife. He sat right beside her, touching her knees. He noticed that she wasn’t watching the screen. But he watched a advertisement or two, He stretched out his arm and got his phone. David opened the call log and scrolled down. He turned to see Hanna peering over his shoulders. He inched closer and she rested her cheek against his arms.

“What?” Hanna asked

“Maybe we missed someone” David met Hanna’s eyes as he said it.

Hanna’s drooping eyes was distant again. “s**t! I might have to ask a few Garners.”

“Exactly who was he close to in a family that didn’t help?”

“Julie.” Hanna barely spoke. “Not now.”

David then reopened the last message he sent Ethan. “Bread and cheesecake” Ethan had left it on seen, three days ago. Hanna could not see David’s face. Even if she did, it still did not say much.

He closed the phone’s screen and put it back. He started at the ground, something came over him and he put his arms around her and hugged. She just stayed there with her face buried in his neck, and her hands on her lap.