STORIEZ

episode two

Picture
August 26th 1996

Well, I have some interesting news mom and dad.
I found out today that my ex-girlfriend Jenny has a son... It's mine.
His name is Zachary. He was born April 14th 1995.
That was 7 months after me and Jenny split.

We had a long talk over coffee yesterday, she wants the boy to have a father.
She wants that father to be me. I'm going to do it.
Zachary is your new grandson as of yesterday, or as of last year.
I still don't know the logistics of it.

I'm going to ask her to marry me.
It's going to bring my career to a halt, but it won't get me down.
I'm going to choose a safer career for myself and go to back to law school.
It's so strange, I never thought I was ready to be a dad
and now that I am I've never been happier.
I want to raise this child like you raised me dad.
I want to play all the games we used to play when I was a kid.
I want to have the ol' Sunday catch with him.
I want to be his everything.
Mom, dad, I love you both but I just can't keep the family business anymore.

I hope you understand...
I'll visit soon,
Andrew Lloyd

Part 6

I couldn't read all the way through Zachary without tearing up over 1000 times. The book was an archive of all of the events in my dad's life with me in it.
He logged everything, the pages were full of letters, pictures,
and journal entries written by my dad's hand.
It's full of mystery and wonder.
My dad has a much darker past than I thought.
He mentions often about the loss of his old job and
his broken gold watch that he used to love.

My father's vision was clear, he wanted to be a good dad
and he succeeded in my eyes, but he never seemed complete.

He was working late often right before he went missing.
Sometimes he wouldn't come home at all.
He would stay overnight at the law firm.
He had a couch there that he would crash on every once in a while.
Before mom died, dad would never come home late.
He was always home on time and we'd have a nice sit down dinner.
We had the set nights, we were routine people and we liked it, sue us!

My favourite night was Tuesday. Taco night!
Dad never liked tacos but he always ate them anyways
because he knew I loved them.
He did things like that for me a lot.

So now here I am.  I'm staring at the pages of the book I had just read and the tears continued to stream down my face.
I wiped them off the side of my cheek and threw the book across the room.
It hit the wall and landed to the ground with a thump.
When out from under the pages fell a picture of me playing in the park
with my dad behind me.

I'm playing in the sandbox and he's sitting in a lovely green bench.
I reached down to pick it up and noticed a fold in the photograph.

“There was more to this picture?” I thought.
I unfolded the other side and my jaw dropped.

Later that night I went over to Aaron's house to show him my discovery.

“Are you sure that's me Zach?”

“Look, it is you.  You're playing in the sandbox with me
and that's your mom in the bench with my dad.”

“Oh my goodness, that is my mom!
But then that means that we met once before we became friends?”
“Or more than once.”

Aaron and I stared at the picture, baffled for a solid five minutes.
“What's that on the back?” Aaron said inquisitively.

I turned the picture around and written on the bottom in black pen was:
“Partners for life! Xoxox -Danger Queen”

I burst out laughing. His mother called herself 'Danger Queen' as a nickname.
“Shut up Zach! My mom is not the Danger Queen!”
Just then we heard a knock on the door.
“Hey guys, it's me Martin. Can I come in?”

I hid the picture in my pocket as fast as I could. It's nothing personal against Martin, but he blabbed to everyone about things nobody cared about.
Whatever this picture meant,
I didn't want anyone knowing until I figure out what it was.

“What did you just put in your pocket?” Martin asked.
“Nothing.” I said sternly.
He gave me a glare.
He knew I was lying but he didn't have the evidence to say anything.

We played games for a bit. Our frequently played game was hide and go seek. We were well into our teenage years,
but we didn't care if some people thought it was “baby”.

We had fun playing and that's all that mattered.
Martin was the worst seeker in the history of seeking.
He would look for three seconds and give up.
We think he's afraid of the dark.

Another one of our favourite games was baseball.
We played one on one with a permanent catcher.
Aaron always won and that's all I'm going to say about that.

We went out that evening to walk the empty streets as we often did.
I looked over at the empty house that sat across the street... my own.
I didn't want to go back there to that confined attic.
It was stuffy and smelled of old cheese.
If I could I would move out into the street.
I'd be happier in the cold than with that man who calls himself my uncle.

We sat on the hill not far from my house and looked up at the evening stars.
“Do you miss him Zach?” Aaron asked.
“What kind of question is that?” I said angrily.
“Well I knew what the answer was going to be,
I just needed to hear you say it.
I worry about you Zach.”
“I do miss him Aaron... a lot more than you know.”

Part 7 

February ushered in a new month and let March enter the calendar year.
On the 12th of March every year we get together with the family
and celebrate our great grandfather's birthday.
He turns 110 this year.

He's still up and at it. He had 13 kids.
Who then produced 39 kids of their own. 
Who then produced 119 kids of their own.

So as you can imagine, this is a rather large gathering.  Me and my uncle went up together and spent the awful 4 hour car ride side by side.

“Can you please not smoke in here, it's making my eyes water.”
“I'll do what I want, it's my car.”
He ashed his cigarette on the dash board and threw the filter at my face.
“Eat up kid! It's good for your lungs!” he said with a hearty laugh.

I looked out the window for the rest of the ride.
I said not one word to that man.
My father had been missing for nearly a month now
and there were no signs of where he may be.

I worried more and more for him every day.
I carry the picture on me at all times.
The one of me and Aaron together,
it reminds me of him every time I see his smiling face on the bench.

“Wake up boy, we're here!” my uncle yelled.
I must have dozed off. I hadn't slept much over the past month after all.

We walked into the massive hall that was my great grandfather's party.
He was perched atop a throne on a stage placed in the middle of the room.

People walked up, wished him a happy birthday and left.
There's no food, no games, no nothing.

But every year people come to wish this man a happy birthday.
We waited in line behind my 4th cousin Randy and his family.
They lived in Alberta. They were pig farmers and they smelt like it.

When we got up to take our turn to give him our best,
he turned to me and spoke:

“Ah! Zachary my boy! How are you?”
“Uhm, I'm fine thanks. How do you remember me?”
“How can I not remember the true heir to my-”

My uncle cut him off with an abrupt cough.
“Alright boy, it's time we get going.
Happy birthday you old scum bag.” he said bitterly.

He said heir.
I heard him say it and somehow it took me 4 days to process it.

I reopened Zachary.
Maybe there was something I missed.
Something I overlooked and couldn't understand at the time.
My dad mentioned something about giving up a business.
Maybe I was supposed to run the business.
But then if I didn't get to, then who did?

I scrolled through the pages and found a letter dated for February 11th 1997.

“Zachary took his first steps today. He was just sitting in his playpen and just decided it was time to get up and walk around.

I'm so proud, although he's not up to speed with the other kids of his age.
I'm trying my best to teach him, but my schooling is more important right now.

Dad, what would you do in a situation like this?
I need your advice, help me.

I know we haven't talked since I gave it all up but know that I still love you.
And I know you still love me.

I went back to our spot the other day.
The one we built together, it's still right where we left it,
in the woods behind the green bench.

If you visit there soon, leave me a picture of you and mom.
I want to see how much you guys have aged, even if you won't let me see you.
Know that I love you...

The green bench had a spot did it?
I had to go investigate this for myself, but I couldn't go alone.

​I rallied up my team and away we went!

Part 8


 We were all going out to investigate the green bench.
I grabbed the box from under my bed,
which was full of stuff we used to use for our days of mischief.

Inside there was a switchblade; given to me by my father,
two flares, of which I only grabbed one just in case,
assorted packs of gum that were older than I can remember,
a pair of those shoes with the wheels in them,
which I left in the box because no one would be caught dead wearing them,
and a pocket watch that didn't work after all the years of being stashed away.

I decided to put the watch in my pocket anyways,
maybe it would bring me luck.


I was making my way downstairs when I heard a large thump
two floors down followed by the cursing from my uncle.
I raced downstairs to get a glimpse of the commotion.


“Who's idea was it to put this stupid table here?!
I banged my stupid toe on the stupid table.”

Except he didn't say stupid...


I must have caught the corner of his eye at the wrong the time.
He approached me, still wincing in pain due to the thumping of his little piggy.

He got a good look at me clad in my explorer gear.
Fancy utility belts, my hat, and a snazzy vest to go with it.

“Where do you think you're going?” he said to me, still holding his toe.
“Me and my friends were going to...”
“No no no!” he said, cutting me off mid-sentence.
“You're marching straight back up those stairs mister.”

I took my backpack off and dropped it at the foot of the door.
I walked halfway up the stairs before turning back to face my uncle.

“You're not my father you know. You shouldn't be able to tell me what to do.
My uncle looked down at the ground and one tear hit the ground.

“Get back upstairs. You're grounded until further notice.”
he said in a sorrowful tone.


I refused to argue with my uncle. Not being one for confrontation
was starting to affect my life more than it should.

Normally walking away was the right thing to do,
but when it came to my uncle, he needed to be confronted.
With a two by four perhaps.

For now however, there was nothing more I could do then
to walk hesitantly up the stairs into the gloomy attic.


I threw myself onto my bed and began to sob on the pillow. My uncle
had never seemed like the type of person to be capable of such oppression.

When we used to gather as a family,  he would always bring some of the best presents. None were better than the ones mm grandfather would give.

My father's, father, was a generous man with a bigger than average heart.
We didn't get to spend much time with him before he moved away.
In the letter my father had wrote to him in Zachary,  my father
mentioned how him and his father never got along until I showed up.

I unified our family and I feel as if it had been torn apart anew.


I heard the sound of my uncle's car being started and dashed towards the window. I looked out and saw his blue Oldsmobile pull out of the oil stained driveway.

“Where was he off at this hour?” I thought to myself.

With my uncle out of the house, I could easily sneak out.
The problem would be sneaking back in later if I had to.
I decided I would go unlock the shed and get the ladder so I could climb in through the attic window undetected.


I prepared to open the hatch of the attic door,  but just then a
viciously bright light shone throughout the entire room.
I turned around a beheld the sight of Zachary,
the book, levitating and glowing that bright light.

The book flung open and the pages flipped to the page marked March 30th 1996, then everything went brighter...



Part 9

I was standing alone in a long stretched hallway
with lights that lit either side of the walls.
The book had been firmly placed in the palms of my hands,
although it was weightless to me.  I opened the book to page 3
and saw the page was empty.  In fact, all of the pages were empty.

I looked towards the end of the hallway.
There was a table where sat two men who from afar, seemed to be sitting still.

As I walked down the hallway towards the table,
the hallway around me began to vanish giving way to a crowded diner.

I recognized this place. It was a family restaurant in a town over
that my father used to take me to all the time called Jimmy's Bites.

Although the walls and the atmosphere was the same,
I did not remember them ever having a water fountain.
The place looked newer, less run down, almost brand new.
I was too busy looking around at the sights in the room to realize the men
at the table were in the heat of conversation.
I got a closer look at the man on the left.


“Is that my dad!?” I exclaimed in my head out loud.

I got as close I could to the table and listened in on their conversation.
They didn't even notice I was standing near them.
In fact, nobody in the restaurant seemed to notice me at all.
A busy waiter came barreling down on me at full speed
with a tray full of orders.
I flinched but couldn't move in time to avoid the inevitable collision.

But instead of running into me and letting her plates fall crashing to the ground, she traveled right through me as if I were made of gas.


That's when the man who I could only assume was my father
began to speak after sipping his hot coffee.


“It's been great catching up dad.
I've been so busy with work, it's hard to keep up.
They offered me a promotion. I don't even know if I can take it anymore.
They would ship me to Paris or Rome, I need to be here for Zachary.”


The other man took a step aback in his chair.

“Woah, this coffee is hot.” he exclaimed as he dabbed
his tongue a handkerchief he had pulled from his pocket.
It had on it the letter P written fancy in black and a red colour trim all around.


“You shouldn't give up your career, it's not like you can fall back on anything. The work you do now is dangerous.
What if something happens to you on the job?”
the man who I assumed was my grandfather said, still dabbing his tongue.


“I'm willing to take that risk, if it means I can stay.
This is where my son needs to grow up.”
my father spoke with a diminutive tone.


“So that's it. Your mind is made up? You won't go to Paris?”
my grandfather questioned.


“I'm sorry, I can't.” he replied.

My grandfather balled a fist in his hand and smashed it on the table,
which got a rise from some of the restaurant's patrons.
He gave my father a stern look and got out of his chair rather abruptly.
As he stormed out of the diner, I noticed the handkerchief fall
out of his pocket and onto the ground in front of the greeters desk.


My father put his hands on his head and let out a long sigh.
The nearby tables only just began to look back at their plates.
I could hear some of them murmuring and shushing
about the event they had just witnessed.

People were so quick to judge without ever learning the facts.
I heard one of them whisper “Daddy issues.”
What does that even mean? I balled a fist this time
and swung it at hard as I could through the face of the customer beside me.
Forgetting that I was a spirit in this world, I swung right through his face,
lost my balance and was sent tumbling to the ground.


“Stupid ghost world!” I shouted in the restaurant,
a shout which landed on completely deaf ears.
There was a moment of still and eerie silence of the restaurant.
Everyone was still going on with their conversations and the staff was still shuffling about the crowded tables, but I could not hear a thing.


But then I did hear something.
It was a faint voice that I could hear in the back of my mind.
I thought it was calling for celery. But then as the voice grew louder,
I could distinctly here it calling my name.


“Zachary... Zachary... Zachary?.. Are you there?”

The room around me became fuzzy and the last thing I saw before
I blacked out was my father, who had penned something onto his napkin
and was showing it to me.

It read:


Goodwill Hospital
Room 213
March 23rd @ 2pm
Complications are getting worse.

I was only out for what felt like a second before I was sitting on the ground in the attic, the book sitting in my lap.

I opened the book to page 3 and saw some of the script my father had left me.
I let out a panicked sigh and was almost at peace for a second.
Then I heard that voice again coming from my walkie-talkie.


“Zachary! We got trouble, sneak out the window fast!”

Part 10

I ran to the front window as quickly as I could
and saw two police cars parked outside my house.
I hustled to the back window where I had set up a rope ladder.

I began to climb down and when I got half way
I was spotted by one of the officers.
He shone his flashlight onto my face
and looked at me with a disappointed face.


“Well well well, what do we have here.”

I recognized that voice. It was officer Neil.
And sure enough, right behind him was the hefty cop.
The two of them pulled me off the ladder and put me in handcuffs.


When the ride in the police car with officer Neil was over,
he brought me into the Sheriff's office and back into the tiny room
they had brought me into before.

This time, their tone was much more serious.
Officer Neil and I were alone for quite some time without saying
a word before the heftier cop came in holding my backpack.


“Son, is this your backpack?” officer Neil questioned.

“Yes, where did you get that? I asked, very confused.

“It was found tonight at the scene of a crime.
Somebody lit a cabin in the woods on fire. We think that somebody is you.
This is your backpack, inside it is one pocket knife and packs of gum.
But what was most interesting is what WAS in the backpack.
Where did you get the flares, son?”

“What? I couldn't have been in the woods tonight I was trapped-”
I started but then stopped.

I couldn't tell them that I had been locked in a memory inside of a book.
They would think I'm insane and lock me up anyways.
As I paused to reflect on a better answer,
officer Neil seemed a little confused by my stutter.

“You were where? All I'm hearing is a bunch of lies, son.
Why was your bag at the scene of the crime?”

“I don't know. All I know is that I've been locked in the attic all night.”
I told them the honest truth.
One that did not seem to please them in the slightest.

“We can't hold you here, so you're free to go.
But just know... We're watching you Lloyd.”

I got up out of my chair, but before I did I turned back
to officer Neil and grabbed my backpack off the table.
I gave him a stern look and ten jokingly said:
“Next time, loosen up those cuffs.” I said as I was rubbing my wrists.

When I exited the Sheriff's office, Martin and Aaron
were already waiting for me outside.

“Whew, that was a close one. Thought for second we were gonna have to spring you.” Aaron mocked as he patted my back rather firmly.

I felt a rush of adrenaline and heard the glimmer in my eye.
My determination was now more fierce than ever and more importantly, someone was trying to frame me for something.

I had to be careful, but my next move was clear.
​
“Let's go find the park with the green bench.”

Powered by Create your own unique website with customizable templates.