Switch off the Light (Something Is Out There, Book 1) Read online

  Switch off the Light, Something Is Out There, Book 1

  Copyright © 2013 Kindle Publishing Timothy Cox

  This is a work of fiction for your entertainment. All characters, names, places and events are the product of the author's imagination or used fictitiously. No part of this publication may be copied, reproduced in any format, by any means, electronic or otherwise, without prior consent from the copyright owner and publisher of this book, all rights reserved.

  “Never open the door to a lesser evil, for other and greater ones invariably slink in after it.”

  ― Baltasar Gracián, The Art of Worldly Wisdom

  (1)

  She could hear it before seeing it.

  With morning breath and warm skin, she got out of bed. She stumbled towards the kitchen wiping sleepy eyes, her mind thinking. She thought of Jimmy’s painting competition and realized that she still needed to pack his school bag, Lilly on the other hand, always loved packing her own bag.

  Before entering the kitchen, she stopped in the living room. The curtains hung on a long wooden pole that she hated with all her heart. She told him every day that it reminded her of an old age home, to which he always replied with laughter. She kicked away toys and searched for anything to keep her toes warm. While scanning the floor she did note how awfully dark the curtains were that morning; light usually pierced the sides and the slit where the curtains met. For a moment, she thought that she got up earlier than usual and glanced at the clock.

  As if on cue, the long and short arm snapped vertical, it was six. She pulled a funny face and continued searching for her shoes. It didn’t take long to find one slipper protruded from under the sofa. She ripped it out and wondered where the other one was, she slipped it on and walked to the kitchen.

  Her habitual routine kicked in: put fresh water in the kettle, listen to it boil, get a cup ready, scan to see if the kitchen was a mess, pick up crayons from the table, look at the clock so she knew her time frame, and check if the dog needed any fresh water.

  She looked at the bowl just as the kettle whistled. While walking over to turn the stove off, she wondered how odd it was that all the pellets were gone. She was sure that she filled it all the way up before going to bed; Rex never had so much food during the night. She thought nothing of this and refilled it. Her chores continued.

  She could hear it rain, but didn’t look outside. She flipped over the eggs and looked at the time. She smiled at herself for being on top of things and realized she was missing something. Music. While the pan sizzled, she tiptoed towards the radio, wiped her hands and turned it on. A bunch of static hummed. She pursed her lips and gave it a slap on the side. The static went from a low hum to violent snaps. She glanced around at the pan spitting oil and back at the irritating noise.

  Things are just breaking down, she thought. The first thing she was going to tell him was to start fixing stuff around the house.

  She slapped it a few times but it made it worse. The smell of burnt egg made her angry. She felt like ripping the cord out and throwing the stupid thing–

  She jumped forward against the cupboard when something wrapped around her shoulder. She looked around startled. ‘Jesus Mike.’

  His laughter made her want to punch him. ‘Morning Honey, sorry I didn’t mean to–’

  ‘You didn’t scare me.’ She said and walked past him.

  He tried grabbing her by the hand but failed. ‘Oh, you sure?’

  She scraped eggs on a plate and gave him a look as if nothing happened. ‘Can you please turn off that stupid thing?’

  He pulled the plug. ‘Yeah sorry about that, I should’ve taken it out yesterday.’ He picked up the radio. ‘Jimmy got a bit hyperactive last night.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I don’t know, I came in here while he stood on a chair – throwing water inside.’

  She shook her head while cracking eggs.

  ‘Have you looked outside?’

  ‘I can hear it raining.’ She said and went to the fridge.

  He put his hand over the door handle. ‘It’s raining quite a bit though, I woke up hearing the roof thump and thought it was hail but when I looked outside it was just rain. Big drops.’

  She turned around with a spoon in one hand and milk in the other. ‘I gave Rex food last night right?’

  His eyes rolled up. ‘Yeah think so.’

  ‘Did you empty it?’

  ‘No didn’t touch it, why?’

  She poured milk into the pan. ‘Just curious.’

  He opened the door and looked outside. The neighborhood sky was a gray mess. Rain fell with relentless force – creating puddles that jumped and up down as drops fell in. The sound of water swooshing made him peek out. Water gushed down the wall like a waterfall.

  ‘Christ it’s raining hard.’ He said, wiping drops from his nose.

  She brought over a cup of coffee. ‘I can see.’ She gave him the cup and a kiss on the cheek. ‘Why you holding the radio in your hand?’

  ‘I’m putting this in the shed.’ He looked at the rain falling on the cement. ‘Or maybe.’

  ‘Or maybe, you can go wake up the children.’

  He watched her walk away. ‘You know, maybe I should start making breakfast.’

  She grabbed her mouth before coffee spilled out and looked at him with dribbling-coffee-fingers. ‘We’ve been married for nine years.’

  ‘So?’ He said putting the radio down.

  ‘I don’t think you’ve ever made breakfast. Not once.’

  ‘Well that’s not true at all.’ He rubbed his itchy nose. ‘What about the time…’

  Her frowning face waited.

  Rex ran inside – its paws sliding on the tile floor and almost crashing against the cupboard – interrupting Mike’s line of thought. The Labrador’s fur was a dark caramel color; soaked with rain, and dripping a trail of muddy water. Rex barked to say hello and ran to Ivy.

  They were both confused. ‘Why was he outside?’ She asked.

  ‘I was just about to ask you the same thing.’

  Rex jumped on her leaving muddy prints on her pajamas. She pushed him off. He shook his body – spraying drops all over.

  ‘Bad dog!’ She screamed, wincing away from the sputter. ‘Mike can you please take him away from–’

  Rex barked and jumped on her again.

  He grabbed its collar and pulled.

  She opened a drawer and got out a towel. First she wiped her legs. And then the floor. While on her knees – working her way to the door – she noticed strange red in the mud. She shook her head angry. She didn’t have time to be wiping floors: when the children had to go school, the breakfast had to be plated, lunch boxes needed to be packed, school bags, and– rain stormed in. This made her feel even more annoyed – why didn’t he close the door, she thought. She wiped faster.

  He walked in stinking of wet dog. ‘I woke up the children.’

  She zoomed around the kitchen. ‘Ok breakfast is ready.’ She picked up plates and put it on the table. ‘Where’s the dog?’

  ‘On the sofa.’ He said, and saw her next question formulate on her face. ‘Don’t worry, he’s dry.’

  ‘I’m not worrying Mike. The kids need to get ready. Where are–’

  She walked in with eyes closed. ‘Mom.’ She swiped her forehead, trying to get the sweaty hair out of her face. ‘I don’t want to go school.’

  Ivy chuckled at the sight. ‘If you don’t go to school, how’re you going to be smart?’

  She pulled out the chair and climbed on. ‘I am clever already.’

  Mike looked impressed. ‘That’s my little girl.’
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  Ivy shot him a look that said: don’t-teach-our-child-that. She picked up a plate. ‘I made some egg on toast for you Sweetie.’

  Her eyes opened when she heard egg. Her face horrified at the approaching plate. ‘I don’t want egg.’

  ‘But I made it nice. Look.’ She put the plate down. ‘I cut the bread in little pieces for–’

  She crossed her arms. ‘I don’t want egg.’

  ‘What do you want?’

  ‘Honey Loops.’

  Mike chuckled in the background.

  ‘Do you want some Honey Loops as well Mike?’ Ivy asked.

  He approached the table with his plate. ‘No thank you.’ He winked at Lilly. ‘Egg makes me strong.’

  ‘Where’s your brother Lilly?’

  ‘He’s still sleeping.’

  He spoke with egg in his mouth. ‘Well maybe you should go wake him up.’

  ‘After Honey Loops.’

  This time it was Ivy who chuckled. ‘Mike just go please.’

  ‘Jimmy!’ Mike screamed. ‘It’s time to get up for school.’

  Lilly collapsed onto the table and covered her ears. ‘I don’t want to go school.’

  ‘Jimmy, get up!’

  ‘Stop screamin’.’ Lilly moaned from under her arms. ‘I don’t want to go school.’

  ‘I’ll drop you off in the rain.’ Mike said.

  The roof thumped, followed by steps.

  ‘Good he’s awake.’ She said looking up. She sprinkled sugar over the bowl and took it over. ‘Here you go Sweetie, now eat up.’ She brushed her hair with her fingers.

  Lilly stuck her tongue out and picked up the spoon; she was deciding which side to go in first.

  ‘Will you be back in time for dinner?’ Ivy asked.

  He thought about it and swallowed food. ‘Let’s see. I think–’

  The roof thumped.

  Mike continued. ‘I have a meeting tonight, but I think I’ll–’

  The roof shuddered; hard enough for cutlery to clank.

  ‘What on earth is that boy doing?’

  ‘Jimmy!’ Mike screamed. He took another bite of his toast.

  ‘Mom the milk tastes funny.’

  ‘No it doesn’t Sweetie, I bought it yest–’

  The roof shuddered again – followed by several thumping.

  Mike stopped chewing food and looked at her. Something didn’t feel right. It was the way the roof–

  ‘I don’t like this milk. It tastes funny.’ She pushed it away.

  ‘Ok.’ She said brushing her hair. ‘Mike will you please go check what the hell that boy is up to.’

  He got up from his chair.

  (2)

  As he walked up the stairs, he frowned at the sight of fluttering curtains. He didn’t remember seeing an open window when he came down. He approached it and brushed the curtains aside, revealing a window wide open. Before closing it he looked outside. He saw his neighbor Eric, get into his car. He looked at the road and saw streams of water washing down. He had to lean out to reach the window’s handle. As he wrapped his hand around the cold handle – drops of rain battered his face, making him close his eyes. For a second or two, it felt refreshing; the icy drops; the sound of parading water. He leaned back in and shut the window.

  The ill-lighted hallway he walked through had many family pictures. He never stopped to look at them, because he felt guilty. As his work load increased over the years – so did the pressure at home. Arguments over missed dinners, not spending time with the children, not spending time with her; disagreements that were so frequent that it became normal. And that’s what annoyed him the most. It’s not that he didn’t care, it was the complete opposite. He was the only one working, so he knew he needed to provide for–

  He stopped as something cracked. He lifted his feet and saw a family frame. He picked it up, and saw him and his wife under spider-cracked glass. He looked at the wall where it fell from and tried putting it back, but it didn’t want to latch. He rubbed his finger behind it and realized the screw was bent. Mike sighed, it was one of his favorite portraits of him and Ivy, and it was as if the wall was trying to tell him that he needed to spend more time with his family, punishing him for working long hours and never being there. He glanced around at the window he closed a moment ago, and listened to the drops hitting it. He was starting to loath the day ahead, the wet road, the traffic jams. He carried the portrait with him to Jimmy’s room.

  He could see the door open, a good sign. He was either putting on his clothes, or still in bed. ‘Jim I hope you’re getting ready my friend.’ He heard his wife telling off Lilly downstairs, and chuckled, that girl was going to be a lot of hard work when she grows up. He wrapped his hand around the corner. ‘Jim are you up or–’

  The room was empty.

  ‘Jim where you at buddy?’ Mike asked. He walked inside and felt a chilly wind grab his leg. He frowned at the sight of another window – wide open. He pressed his lips together and winced – when he realized he was pressing his thumb down on broken glass. The frame fell from his hand. Before picking it up he looked at blood trickling from his thumb. He shook his head and picked it up – placing it on a drawer. ‘Jim you in here?’ He walked to the bed when he felt another cold breeze tickle his leg. ‘Christ…why are all the windows…’ He walked to close it.

  He didn’t care to look outside and closed the window. He was about to walk away when something in his stomach didn’t feel right. Some part of his brain registered something out of place when he closed the window, something his peripheral picked up and was still computing consciously. The strange feeling in his stomach told him to have a look outside, again. He did. And he saw what it was.

  His seven year old son was being dragged away.

  (3)

  A few days ago

  You know you’ve hit rock bottom when the only way to avoid hunger – is sleep.

  Tonight, was like any other night for Jacob. He tried avoiding cities at night time, mainly because it was so overcrowded with others just like him; people that couldn’t afford their bills anymore; lonely fuckers that saw drugs as their only salvation. He did however avoid the drug scene – and for a good reason. The previous year his morning breakfast and nighttime dinner was a plastic bag, containing a few grams of something he liked to call: Devil’s Drug. More commonly known as Cocaine. He remembers the guy that sold it, a man so vile that when he spoke he opened a rotting cave that had rocks the color of green and orange. A year later, Jacob was still surviving. Surviving day by day, food bank at a time and drug free.

  The moon was nowhere to been seen, but the luminosity it gave off was enough to light the park as if stadium lights were on. Things could be heard shuffling between trees and shrubbery. An owl hooted far in the distance, and if one looked close enough, a heart shaped body could be seen sitting on black shadow. A long strip of stony road separated the bench and field like some great divide, the grass wet on the other side; with tips that sparkled. This is what Jacob hated the most, it was the cold wetness. But he believed humans were animals at heart, and like most animals, you either adapted to the surroundings or died, no middle ground – it’s that simple. And over the years he himself had evolved. During the day he would gather something people threw away: newspaper. Come seven at night, he began crumpling paper into little balls. He then shoved all of them between two layers of shirts, that acted like heat insulation. On rare occasions, when early morning brought chilly wind, he turned to a paper bag he carried with him, that had all the whiskey needed for a good night sleep.

  Tonight was that night. The wind showed no mercy as it pierced clothing.

  Jacob looked up at the moon, and analyzed its black smudges. He wondered how many people before him had wondered: what was out there? He rubbed his hands together and blew warm air into them. He gazed back up and tried counting the black spots. He couldn’t understand why something so beautiful would allow life to be so shit down here. His thoughts drifted on, to a life–

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nbsp; ‘Every night, you be counting those stars.’ He said.

  ‘Just makes me wonder.’ Jacob said.

  ‘Makes you wonder?’ He coughed spit into his hands and wiped it on his trousers. ‘I’ll tell you a lil story about stars.’ He chuckled and peered into the distance.

  Jacob looked at him and waited. And waited.

  ‘You see. A long time ago, when them dinosaurs walked planet earth, they also saw those stars.’ He closed his mouth and nodded. A few seconds later he looked away and rubbed his legs.

  ‘Wait, is that it?’

  He looked back confused. ‘Is what – what?’

  ‘Is that your story?’

  ‘Yes, don’t you get it?’

  Jacob felt his chest getting cold. ‘Not really.’

  ‘Ok, the meaning behind the story.’ He shivered. ‘Is that the dinosaurs saw stars, we see stars,’ he clapped his hands for the climax to his point. ‘The stars are old news.’

  Jacob stuck his hand under the bench and rummaged the black bag. He got crumpled paper and shoved it down his shirt.

  ‘Sure’s fucking cold tonight.’

  ‘Yup.’ Jacob said, and gave a few balls to Ant. ‘You know what time it is?’

  ‘Don’t fucking know. Don’t fucking care. My ass is freezing off.’ He looked around, thinking he heard something. ‘You know what’ll be good?’

  ‘I know what you’re going to say. We don’t have much left.’

  He lifted his shaky fingers, removed his glove, and revealed white bony hands. ‘I’m dying Jacob. Look at my hands. Just look.’

  ‘You’re not dying.’

  He rubbed his hands and put the glove back on. ‘You remember that night a month–’

  ‘Oh here we go again.’ Jacob said. He coughed and rubbed his hand under his beanie; spilling out black curly hair. ‘Why do you always–’ snot dripped from his nose, he wiped it. ‘Why do you always bring this up?’

  ‘Because is true.’ He grabbed more of the blanket. ‘You were starving, and who helped you? Who gave you some bread with butter?’ He sighed. ‘While I went sleep hungry and–’