Chasing Shadows (8 page)

I sigh, glad it was just a dream. I see nothing
in the darkness. My heart thuds. I feel around me on the bed. Where
are my covers? My body quakes. My throat is so dry. My eyes sting.
I get up and nearly fall over from my weak knees. Not even trying
for nonchalance, I pitch myself across the room towards the lamp. I
feel my hands hit the wall instead. Where's the lamp? I step back.
Clang, my leg hits a metal post. The lamp? I sink to my knees,
groping blindly with my hands. I find the post and follow it to its
end, finding the knob. I turn it and yelp. The room looks like a
hurricane hit.

"My God." I gasp. I see my blankets piled up
against the far wall. My pictures: landscapes and cheap prints of
Van Gogh, are scattered around the room. I raise a hand to my head
and, in so doing, feel that my hair is sticking straight up. Jesus,
I think, this is too real. I use the wall for support as I stand.
I'm about to go and check the damage in the other room when I feel
hands, warm and dry, on my shoulders. I look at my shoulders
without moving my head, nothing, no one. I take a shaky breath and
bravely close my eyes. "What do you want?" I say softly.

I wake up. Oh my God. It's dark, pitch black.
I'm going to have to re-think the foil over my windows. I feel
around the bed, find my blanket with my hand, and breathe a sigh of
relief. Strangely, I'm not really scared. At least that's what I
tell my self, until I stand up and my legs are shaking. I walk
slowly to the doorway from memory. I find the lamp, right where it
should be. I twist it on. Ca-click, I shudder. All's well.
Everything is in its place. Why does that bother me
more?

"Fuck." I say, just for good measure. I turn to
face the next room, and as I do there's movement. I stop. I'm
staring into the darkness, but there's someone in there, I know it.
I think I see the shape of a person in the dark, standing just
beyond where the light from this room shines into that one. Again,
I think, I am definitely taking that foil down.

I stand so still, staring and staring into the
shape of the darkness. I'm going to have to blink though, crap, I
can't help it. I blink. I hear a soft step. I see the deeper
darkness shift back. There's a sliding sound, and a thunk as
something in there hits the floor. I'm unfrozen now. The noise
seems to make this more real. I grab the floor lamp by the post and
lunge it into the next room... No one. “Balls, Piss, Fuck, Balls,
Gay Bullshit!” I yell. “This is getting SO old!” Goddamn
it.

With heavy steps I trudge into the little room
and turn on all the lamps. I walk angrily and methodically to each
window in the apartment, tearing down the foil. I’ll be damned if
I’m going to keep waking up blind. I am so used to the darkness
that it doesn’t register with me for a minute that its night
outside. Well, hell. How long did I sleep anyway? I’m just headed
to the sink for some water when I see it. There’s a glass on the
floor. It must be what fell and made the noise, but is it a glass
I’ve ever used? I bend over and pick it up. Where did I get this?
It doesn’t look familiar to me. It’s octagonal and clear with
little texture bubbles inside the base. I don’t have glasses like
these. My glasses are all from the dollar store, and most of them
are the plastic ones you can get four for a buck.

I’m standing there in my tank top and underwear
staring at the glass when the overhead light goes on. Well...
that’s not good. I look to the wall by the door, which I notice now
is indeed dead bolted properly, the switch is in the off position.
I cross over and flick it up and down a few times. No change. Of
all the things happening here, this is the least creepy. The wiring
in this house is turn of the century, last century. I’m not afraid
of some flickers.

I’m feeling empowered, a problem I can
solve
! Fucking ay! I set the glass down and go back to the
bedroom where my desk is. I retrieve the desk chair and position it
under the offending fixture. I step up carefully. Dust falls in my
mouth as I unscrew the decorative glass housing. Holding that in my
left hand, I reach up with my right to unscrew the bulb. It hasn’t
really been on long enough to be hot. Twirl, twirl, tw... and the
lights go out. Not just the one I’m holding, but all my lamps too.
I am so proud of myself for taking that foil down. After a minute
my eyes adjust and I climb back down from the chair.

“Okay.” I say to the room. “I’m gonna shower,
lights or no lights. After that I’ll try and talk to you.
Deal?”

I listen for a minute, feeling stupid and
crazy. Why did I talk to the room? Nut jobs talk to empty rooms.
Then I remember last night. I remember Qasim telling me to test it
out. I also remember him telling me he deserved to be with someone
sane. “Fucking Mighty Mouse.” I say. Still I’d liked the idea then,
drunk, and I like it now, hung over. Let’s just ride this crazy
train for a day or so, and see where it takes us.

I leave the office chair where it is so I can
trip over it later. I scuff back into the bedroom. I find my phone
and check it, 8 PM. Okay. I look at the calendar, Sunday. Good. I’m
off tonight. That makes it an excellent night to wander around
after spooky shit. I just need a shower first. I use my phone as a
flashlight while I gather up clothes to wear. There’s a light brush
over my hair as I’m pulling my shirt out of the drawer.

Side note, need to do laundry or go shopping.
It's getting pretty bad. I‘m down to my last clean shirt. It‘s a
fuzzy brown sweater that’s tight across the boobs, but hangs tunic
style down to my mid thighs. It had something about hand washing on
the tag, but I have always cleverly disregarded that.

I walk to the bathroom by the light from the
street that shines in through my windows. As I’m turning the water
on, the lights come back, including the lamp in the bathroom which
I’m pretty sure I hadn’t turned on in the first place.

“Thanks guys." I mumble. I take my sweet time
going through my routine. I even apply make-up and put my
belongings in my pockets. I’m not going to take my bag if I’m
following shadows around all night. It’s winter now anyway, and
between my coat and my jeans I can carry my phone, wallet, smokes
and keys. What else could I want? Now I’m all ready, so I sit cross
legged on my couch and think for a minute about how best to phrase
this. When I believe I’ve got my little speech all planned out, I
swallow my dumb-kid feelings and open my mouth.

“Okay, whoever you are, first, you should know
I don’t typically believe in you. I’m pretty sure I’m hallucinating
every time you do anything, but for the sake of argument, I’m
offering you this one chance. Tonight, and only tonight, that’s all
I’m promising...” I pause and take a deep breath. “You have until
sunrise. I will listen, and look for you. I will follow where you
lead me. But if morning comes and you haven’t shown me something
conclusive, something that proves beyond a shadow of a doubt that
you’re real, and not only real, that you’re useful or in some way
necessary to my life, If you can’t prove all those things, then
first thing in the morning, I’m calling my social worker Melody
Smith. I’m going to tell her all about you. I’ll tell her you make
me want to kill myself. She’ll send me straight to the nut house,
where they’ll help me medicate you assholes right out of my life.
Are we clear?”

As if on queue the lights flicker out and that
stupid glass goes slamming to the floor. “Okay, cool. “ I say. I
stand up and the door handle jiggles. This is going to be like
following bread crumbs. I wish for a moment that Ashley was still
my friend. It’d be smart to call someone and tell them that if I
don’t show up for work tomorrow they should call the police. Oh
well. I’m on my own. No back up. Just Batman, no Robin... Actually
more like just Robin. I open the door and start my, whatever this
is.

When I get outside I look around carefully,
nothing. With a sigh, I lock up behind me and trot down the steps.
At the bottom I stop again and look around, nothing. I cross the
blacktop to the alley. Once here I can go either way, north or
south. I turn and look north, there! Behind that dumpster I see a
little movement. I head towards it. When I get near, a shadow bird
takes wing and flutters all the way to the end of the alley. I
believe I see it take a right, headed east on the side
street.

“Okay.” I whisper, and start off after it. It’s
cold as hell out here. The ground is covered with a light dusting
of snow that we northerners refer to as frost. It crunches under my
boots. By the time I reach the end of the alley, more snow is
falling. I pause to slip on my gloves and hat, zip up my coat, and
wonder where I’m going. I turn right, squint into the wind, and
lumber on. After about eight blocks, I’m nearing the elevated
tracks. At the street just before them, I see the bird again. It
swoops north and I follow, walking parallel with the
tracks.

The breeze, I mean gale force wind, is cut off
here on the north/south street. I’m beginning to feel my face again
when a train clatters by over head. As it does, I hear an extra
little hiss, like a whisper, in my right ear. If I had to tell you
what it said I’d guess ‘hurry’ but I can’t be sure, and I hate to
be rushed, so I keep going at my steady pace. A few more steps and
there’s a hand on my back. I look, no one, of course. But the hand
keeps pressing. I step it up a bit, the pressure ceases, and now
disappears.

“Fucking cardio.” I say. “Of all the spooks, I
get one obsessed with fitness.”

I go on. There’s no more prompting from the
great beyond. In a few quick blocks this street dead ends onto
another east west one. I come out right by the poorly lit, back
entrance of an El station. Its one with no attendant, just the
floor to ceiling revolving bars. I don’t feel the need to wait for
confirmation. I’m fucking cold. I’m standing in front of the turn
style, digging through my wallet for my Trans pass. I haven’t used
it since Friday. I pretty much walk everywhere except work, but
then I’m usually not on a schedule of any kind. My craziness
tonight seems to have an agenda. When I finally have the card out I
pause. I’d hate to waist a dollar sixty if the shade doesn’t want
me on the train. Flash: the warm train car, the familiar smell of
stale urine, the feel of my ass in a seat. I wait. I gave my word,
I’m going where I’m led... Fuck this sucks. I look through the
bars.

“Go, or don’t go?" I whisper. There! Right in
front of me. Has it been there the whole time? Floating about three
feet off the ground is a shimmer of light. As I focus on it, it
disappears, but then the turn style rattles. Good enough for
me.

I swipe my card and enter. I climb the concrete
steps and emerge on a not-quite-deserted platform. There are around
twelve other people up here, singly or in groups of two or three. I
dig out my phone and check the time, 8:34. Now... which train? I
wait. The wind whips the hair that hangs below my skull cap. The
hair catches in my lips. I pull it off and cover my cheeks with my
hands. I’d like to duck behind the big advertisement partition to
block the wind, but I feel I should maintain a line of sight with
both sets of tracks. All in all, this hasn’t been bad so far. I
light up a Camel. No sooner is it lit than a dirty looking dude I
hadn’t noticed accosts me.

“Hey pretty lady,” His voice grumbles. “Got a
smoke for a poor old man?”

I sniffle. “Nope.”

He puts on that hurt face you see on Broadway.
“Awe, come on, baby. Give me a cigarette.”

“No.” I say, not looking at him. I glance over
in time to register anger, before he covers it up with something
else.

“Hey now, sexy girl,” He purrs as he steps
closer. “Why so up tight?” He reaches a hand out to grab my
arm.

I pull my arm back. A train is coming from the
south. I see it make its stop at a platform a few blocks down. “I
said no, man.” I’m not even yelling. Aren’t I proud of myself?
“Leave me alone.”

“Hey, baby.” He croons, reaching for me again.
Alright, at this point I have three choices. One: I could walk away
from him, towards the other passengers, but he might follow me, and
then I’d look like a victim. Two: I could give in and give the
bastard a Camel, maybe he’d leave me alone, maybe he’d try to
molest me, either way I hate rewarding this kind of behavior.
Three: I could do this:

“Fuck off!” I yell at the top of my lungs. I
kick at him. I miss, but I kick again, making contact with his shin
this time. I reach out and push him. “You commie prick!” I scream,
pushing and kicking with the cigarette between my teeth. I make to
smack him about the head and he runs off down the stairs I just
came up.

“Crazy white bitch!” he yells over his
shoulder, but he’s still running.

I smile, triumphant. Assault, makes a girl feel
pretty. Some of the other passengers are looking my way. I nod at
them and take a self satisfied drag. Fuck him, I think. Thought he
could intimidate me into giving him something I paid good money
for, mother fucker. The train is a few hundred yards off now,
rocking and rolling into the station. I still have half a smoke
left. I flick it onto the tracks as the train arrives. Why? Cause
fuck that guy, that’s why! Oh wait, shit. I forgot what I was
doing. Am I even supposed to get on this train? Damn I should’ve
waited for confirmation before chucking that Camel.

The train pulls in and the doors open. Three or
four people get off of the car closest to me. I wait and watch. The
car is about half full. “Yes or no?” I whisper. I feel a push on my
back. Cool. I can do this. I get in long before the doors close,
and am able to snag the forward facing seat at the rear of the car.
It’s the one with the sideways seat in front of it so I can prop my
legs up. Awesome. I look out the window onto the platform. The bum
has emerged from the stairwell. He makes to come onto my train car.
I catch his eye through the window and jump to my feet with my
crazy face, opening my arms wide like ‘what?’