by Autumn Hayes
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\nWait a minute, buddy \u2013 don\u2019t go so fast. We don\u2019t mean no harm; just asking, is all. Just asking. We been lugging this thing around so long, through this park, and in this weather. Feel that wind kicking up? It\u2019s gonna rain soon.<\/p>\n
Yeah, it\u2019s sunny now, but trust me \u2013 it\u2019ll rain. Might as well step under this tree, pal, and give us a hand. Quit your bustling home. That subway ain\u2019t coming no sooner.<\/p>\n
Ahh, come on, man. Just for a second? My partner here, Verne, he\u2019s awful tired.\u00a0We need a break. Help us out for a second, friend.<\/p>\n
Not even for an old man? Look at him.\u00a0Don\u2019t he deserve a little mercy in his old age? Wouldn\u2019t you want some, too, if you were him? If you\u2019d been charged with what he\u2019s got \u2013<\/p>\n
No, not sick, but tired, as he ought to be. You\u2019d be broke-down, too, and hunched up like a gargoyle, all twisted and gray and knotty \u2013 don\u2019t look like that, Verne; it\u2019s true \u2013 if you\u2019d been through what he\u2019s been through. If only I could show you my hands!\u00a0And my back? It\u2019s killing me.\u00a0I can\u2019t imagine how he\u2019s hurting. Poor Verne, all these years, hauling it around \u2013<\/p>\n
Can\u2019t, mate. It ain\u2019t that easy. The rules state clear and firm: carry the box over your head, or at least five feet off the ground, at all times. No setting it down. Ever, or else.<\/p>\n
Ah, hell, partner. You don\u2019t want to know. We\u2019d never get it closed again, and we\u2019d never \u2013 well, let\u2019s say it\u2019s messy, friend, and involves a lot of demons, and the world as we know it would shed its skin if people knew what we had here.<\/p>\n
Don\u2019t look like that, man. I\u2019m not nuts.\u00a0Ask Verne here; he\u2019d tell you if he talked \u2013 which he don\u2019t \u2013 but if he did, he\u2019d tell you what we got here is important. Mighty important.<\/p>\n
What\u2019d you call it \u2013 a chest? Now, that\u2019s a funny word for it. Never looked at it that way.\u00a0Huh. But what\u2019s in it \u2013 now, that, my friend, is a complicated answer.\u00a0I couldn\u2019t tell you as well as I\u2019d show you, and you wouldn\u2019t believe me, anyway. Would you?<\/p>\n
It\u2019s pretty confidential, man. You\u2019ll keep quiet?\u00a0If you didn\u2019t \u2013<\/p>\n
Okay. Just don\u2019t laugh, and don\u2019t ever tell nobody. Promise?<\/p>\n
Well, it\u2019s the Book of Eternal Secrets.<\/p>\n
Don\u2019t laugh! It\u2019s the Book of Secrets. It is! All the knowledge there ever was, or will be, or is now \u2013 or never was, but should\u2019ve been \u2013 here in this box, and we carry it.<\/p>\n
Yeah, stuff like that. And what killed the dinosaurs, and what happened to Jimmy Hoffa, and \u2013<\/p>\n
Come on, man. The Mafia killed him. Everyone knows that. Walled him up in Giants stadium. The rumors are true.<\/p>\n
No, of course not. Sinking logs and drunken Scotsmen are all that is. A myth. How could only one of them survive for four million years, without breeding? Sheesh.\u00a0That\u2019s common sense.<\/p>\n
Okay, okay, wait. Don\u2019t go. I didn\u2019t mean that.\u00a0I\u2019m just kind of kind of crabby, you know, from carrying this box around, and waiting for this replacement, this third guy.<\/p>\n
Yep. Supposed to be a three-man job. Not that it\u2019s so heavy. Not when you first pick it up, at least. But after you\u2019ve been at it a while, like we have, it gets a tad… weightier. Old Verne, he\u2019s about bagged. Been freighting this box around a long time. We need a hand, till the third guy comes.<\/p>\n
I hope so, pal. We were supposed to meet him right here. Yep, under this maple tree.\u00a0He specifically told us, \u201cThe gnarled one by the duck pond, right across the foot bridge from the playground.\u201d\u00a0Yet here we are, and there\u2019s the bridge, and I don\u2019t see nobody but you.<\/p>\n
What\u2019d you say?\u00a0Have we been waiting long?\u00a0Buddy, you don\u2019t know the half. Verne over here, he\u2019s been waiting sixty-some-odd years.\u00a0A shame, really; a crying shame. Old man like him needs a break, don\u2019t he? Look at him. He\u2019s probably G.D. seething underneath that calm exterior. Yeah, I know, he don\u2019t seem like it.\u00a0But he is, and he\u2019s got every right to be.<\/p>\n
I wouldn\u2019t call them \u201cglowing.\u201d His eyes probably look that way because of the light, you know? The sun\u2019s going down, and plus, that storm\u2019s coming. The one I mentioned earlier. Remember? When I asked you for help? No, of course not; you were so busy being businesslike…<\/p>\n
What? Oh, nothing. Just wondering when this third guard\u2019ll come. Gotta keep this cargo safe, you know.<\/p>\n
Pardon?<\/p>\n
Not \u201cread\u201d it, per se. More like \u201cabsorbed\u201d it.\u00a0There\u2019s all these possibilities, see, floating around all noxious-like, on a cloud. And that\u2019s the future, right? But the past, on the other hand, is much more \u2013<\/p>\n
Who?<\/p>\n
Never heard of her. But she\u2019s probably in the book, and I clean forgot her.\u00a0Can\u2019t keep up with everything.\u00a0But I tell you what \u2013 if you\u2019d help us out, you\u2019d know yourself. All you gotta do is touch it, and \u2013<\/p>\n
Wait! Where are you going?<\/p>\n
Hey, pal, look. I\u2019m sorry I don\u2019t remember more, but if you\u2019d help us out \u2013 hey \u2013<\/p>\n
Hey!<\/em><\/p>\n Paul!<\/p>\n Come back here!<\/p>\n Yeah, I said your name. And yeah, we know all about her \u2013 and you. Okay? It\u2019s all in the book: \u00a0where she lives, where she\u2019s been, her whole life without you, how she disappeared and why, and how you disappointed her \u2013<\/p>\n Hey, man! Hands off the clothes!\u00a0Lay off. I told you, I know \u2013 and you could, too. No need to get all bent out of shape. We\u2019re offering the chance of a lifetime, man. Besides, you wouldn\u2019t want to upset my balance and make me fall down or anything… right?<\/p>\n Now, that\u2019s more like it.\u00a0It\u2019s simple.\u00a0We need a hand \u2013 or two.\u00a0I ever tell you what happened to Verne, friend?<\/p>\n You don\u2019t? Well, that\u2019s too bad, because, if you ever do want to find your little sweetheart, Paul \u2013 or walk through this park, past those kiddos on the swing set, without ducking twenty succubi or picking your dainty way through a sea of rotting bodies \u2013 you\u2019d better listen, and listen good. I\u2019m feeling talkative today… and clumsy. You understand me now, Paulie Boy? You get me now?<\/p>\n Much better. Oh, it\u2019s a sad tale!\u00a0See, old Verne here got chosen a while back, back when there were three of them \u2013 three \u2013 and it was done proper. When fellas didn\u2019t lose their grip and skip out on you. Had more honor, then, according to Verne; to hear him tell it, everything was better. Simpler, clearer cut.\u00a0But who knows when \u201cthen\u201d was, eh?\u00a0Sixty years ago, a thousand? Could be any time, any era; Verne\u2019s been here through all of them. But a nice round number will do \u2013 easier to swallow \u2013 so let\u2019s say sixty-six. Sixty-six years.<\/p>\n So Verne and these chaps are working, carting the book around, keeping it from being discovered, when all of a sudden the third lug\u2019s got to pee, right now, real bad.\u00a0Dark night \u2013 starless, moonless \u2013 and he\u2019s got to take a whiz. Huh!\u00a0Well, where\u2019s our bathroom breaks? Verne here ain\u2019t peed in sixty-six years! Now, how\u2019s that for fairness?\u00a0No-goodnik… right?<\/p>\n Well, anyway, Verne here\u2019s got him a heart of gold \u2013 a heart of gold, mark me \u2013 and says, \u201cYeah, sure. We\u2019ll keep it up a while. You take a leak, buddy,\u201d and the other guy agrees. So this third guy goes in the bushes with a torch and does his thing, and when he\u2019s done, he turns around and smiles real big.\u00a0Ear-to-ear grinning. Says, \u201cYou\u2019re real good guys, you know.\u201d And runs off and never comes back again. Cackling all the way.<\/p>\n Now, I understand.\u00a0A man gets tired; a man needs a home. He\u2019s got a wife and two kids waiting on him \u2013 waiting \u2013 and there\u2019s blisters lining his palms, and this box, well, it ain\u2019t what he thought it\u2019d be. He knows everything in the world, but he can\u2019t see his daughter\u2019s face, you know? Can\u2019t kiss his wife goodnight, can\u2019t sit in his armchair and watch the game. Can\u2019t do nothing but carry this box and hope one day to taste a steak, or anything else, again.\u00a0So I understand.<\/p>\n But Verne\u2019s partner, he ain\u2019t so forgiving. He\u2019s got to bear it around still, with Verne, who don\u2019t seem to care at all. Just smiling along, like nothing\u2019s wrong. So after a while, this other guy gets to thinking maybe he ought to bail. Thinks he ought to up and leave like the other guy, but can\u2019t. He can\u2019t leave Verne alone; the fate of the world depends on this, right? So he\u2019s got to find a way out, but safely.<\/p>\n Well, imagine his surprise, then, discovering all he had to do was ask some schmoe to take a corner one day, while he re-clasped his cloak or something.\u00a0Things were simpler, those days; so says Verne.\u00a0Everyone was more gullible, or trusting.<\/p>\n But I don\u2019t even blame the bloke. He\u2019s got places to go and people to see, and who cares about a long life? He might live forever while he\u2019s holding it, but if a man can\u2019t sleep or eat… I mean, you know it don\u2019t matter if he needs to or not physically; there\u2019s more than what we need physically<\/em>.<\/p>\n So I\u2019m not mad at him for bolting, not one iota, just like I can\u2019t fault the guy he conned for bilking some young lady with a guilt trip about how Verne\u2019s so old and fragile and they\u2019re waiting for backup. Not her fault she had such a tender heart.\u00a0I mean, you look at that cold, wrinkled visage, with its fissures and folds and wolfish grin \u2013 I mean, pained grimace \u2013 and you wonder why he<\/em> never ran, why he never himself left in all these years.\u00a0But you figure he\u2019s old, right? So old he smells like sulfur and brimstone, but harmless nonetheless, and needs the help. Commendable, right?<\/p>\n Not so much so when she duped me, but I ain\u2019t even mad at her. Curiosity, of course; you know what they say. Her going on about living forever, and the knowledge of a god, and, well, she got me. They were all good men, though, even the women. All wanting to help somebody, or help themselves, or a little of both. No way to know they\u2019d all take off as soon as possible, but I can\u2019t blame them. Who wouldn\u2019t like to see their folks again, to hold them, and not this goddamn box? Who wouldn\u2019t mind some time off, after three years? I mean, when it\u2019s not even permanent, when it\u2019s so easy to pass on to the next guy, who might not even have a wife \u2013 or a life at all worth living, but he could, if he just found her \u2013 is that so bad? \u00a0Is that so selfish?<\/p>\n Don\u2019t presume to judge now, Paul. I know all about you<\/em>; remember the book? Those last couple of trades, they weren\u2019t so A-one, were they? Didn\u2019t quite make the grade? Well, it\u2019s only a matter of time \u2013 say, three months \u2013 before it all gives way beneath you. All of it, and they\u2019ll be coming.\u00a0Coming for your houses \u2013 yes, the condo and<\/em> the ranch \u2013 and your yacht and your savings and passport.\u00a0Oh, and your dogs. And once those go, you\u2019ll never see Carlene; they\u2019ll throw you in jail with a cell-mate named Clarence.\u00a0And then who\u2019ll want to get away, huh, Paul?<\/p>\n Sure you can. It\u2019s easy.\u00a0Everybody in the world wants to help out old folks, especially old Verne here. And if that fails, they\u2019ve all got a secret they want to know \u2013 or hide. Now don\u2019t they?<\/p>\n I knew you\u2019d come through.\u00a0I knew you were a good guy, Paul. by Autumn Hayes Wait a minute, buddy \u2013 don\u2019t go so fast. We don\u2019t mean no harm; just asking, is all. Just asking. We been lugging this thing around so long, through this park, and in this weather. Feel that … Continue reading
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\nAUTUMN HAYES<\/strong> is a freelance writer, creative writing teacher, and poet. Her poetry and short fiction have appeared or are forthcoming in Defenestration, Cuento, trapeze magazine, 7×20, and Southern Women\u2019s Review. She prefers to make stuff up, so don’t look for her blog… and if you do, don’t believe a word of it.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"