In the Garden of Rot (4 page)

Both Will Castle and Sam Carpenter were in committed relationships around the time of the video, a quick scroll through their Facebook accounts allowed me to get an idea of their lives during that period. Both profiles are no longer public.

Amber is tall. Taller than an average height male would normally have a chance with, but she dated Sam (who is average height give or take an inch) for three years before 2009. The couple broke up in 2010 sometime before Sam’s brawl at Will’s bonfire. She has dusty blonde hair and a sunny complexion, complete with freckled cheeks.  The smile on her face seemed permanent as if there is nothing that could be said to bring her down. She speaks fondly and apologetically about her time with Sam.

AMBER: He was so creative. Just very smart and funny and nice. He tried so hard to be a gentleman. Yes, he was one of the good guys.

Did he ever show you the video he and Will shot?

AMBER: Yes, I saw everything he did. I had to beg though. Sam was always shy with his projects, like he thought they would disappoint me, but it always amazed me what he came up with. His excitement was infectious. I really thought he’d be off in Hollywood hooking up with pretty actresses.

But did it scare you?

AMBER: The video? The one from Church Hill?

Yes.

AMBER: It was spooky, I guess. I’m not a good judge. I get scared watching
Once Upon A Time (ABC TV Series)
. I just never did well with that kind of stuff.  Sam used to tease me or trick me into watching a movie. I think he tricked me into watching the beginning of that tooth fairy movie (
Darkness Falls
) like twice. Each time I fell for it. So creepy.

And what was Will Like?

AMBER: Really nice and friendly. I never talked to him much but Sam had a lot of friends and they were all real nice, but we never really shared friends. It was kind of a conscious effort since we’d both come from relationships that ended and forced us to lose some of our closer friends. The idea was that if we had our own circle of friends then we’d never feel trapped in our relationship because we’d know we’d have our friends to fall back on if anything happened.

And something did happen?

AMBER: Well, yes I guess the idea backfired. We just ended up spending more time with our groups of friends than each other. I don’t think we grew apart. I guess people like to say that. I think we just didn’t grow. You know? We never really left those first couple months of a relationship where everything is dandy.  So it was nice in that aspect too. I didn’t cheat on him if that’s what he thinks.

I was surprised how quick she was to jump to her own defense. Sam never insinuated that their relationship ended because she cheated. But I think it would be safe to assume the break up revolved around that rather than the creepy video. I’m inclined to believe that if Sam did suspect she had cheated on him it might’ve been an ingredient that fueled his excessive drinking at Will’s bonfire. In passing, she mentioned her current relationship had been going for about 4 years at the time I interviewed her, which I assume places its start in 2010.

Amber didn’t provide much light on the video itself. She assured me it was a special effect, but didn’t know how to do any of those things and that Sam never expressed to her that the video was real. Furthermore, she only offered kind words about their time together, painting another conflicting image of Sam Carpenter, who sounded more like then man I interviewed rather than the guy who was at Will’s bonfire that night in 2010.

Tina is from Ethiopia. She is statuesque and her dark skin furthers that beauty with perfect curves and angles on a mind-bogglingly symmetrical face. She is half of Will Castle’s age. She worked part-time with both Sam and Will while she attended Virginia Commonwealth University on a scholarship.  Her English is quick and funny, her voice deeper than her beauty would suggest. Our conversation began much like Amber’s until I mentioned the video clip.

TINA: Oh no (
she covered her mouth as her eyes held wide).
That video was evil. Very evil. No, I don’t want to talk about that.

With that our conversation ended. I did not learn why she and Will ended their relationship. She never returned any additional calls or emails.

Google Maps is one of the greatest features in modern civilization. And since gas prices always seem on the rise, and for the general consideration of our environment, I did not scour the streets of Richmond in an automobile. I looked for the location of the shot through the tedious scrolling of Street View.

Once found, I was hesitant to go to it alone. Accompanying me was a friend I will refer to as Hampton. He was interested in the history behind the video, but didn’t have any fear. He is a non-believer, a democrat, and a proud gun owner. I felt safer traveling into Church Hill with him in tow. Of course the exact location of the shot from the video clip is, in fact, not in Church Hill.

During the day, the street is gray, worn asphalt that meets a tanner, lighter gray but equally worn sidewalk on either side. There are streetlights from a time when it looked to be a promising location for commercial venues, but they have not been kept up. They are littered with stickers, and torn and rotting flyers from events long past. There were no vehicles parked there during that day. Hampton remarked that it was odd, since there were no signs forbidding parking, and the streets running perpendicular to it, all had either a two-hour limit or a parking meter (which we respectfully paid).

It was also a fall day, so the wind that kicked leaves from some other street that actually had trees, were to be expected. A pothole was freshly patched in the exact spot that the car that showed the ‘faces’ was parked in the video. It is possible that it was done as early as that morning and that a work crew had closed off the street and discouraged drivers from parking there.

We spent twenty minutes there, though we’d paid for an hour. It felt like much longer as there seemed to be nothing to gain. I took pictures of the scene (that I’m unhappy with the look of) and spent time staring, feeling like I should be experiencing something.

Hampton was patient, but it was clear it wasn’t a supernatural hotspot—at least not during the day.

We drove into the Fan afterwards and went to the Commercial Tap House, just as Sam and Will used to. We enjoyed the food and beers, but no one there remembered Sam or Will. It was there that Hampton convinced me to return to the scene at night.

It was fall, so it was dark around 6:30 P.M. That is when we went, catching the tail end of rush hour traffic. We brought the Sony Handy-Cam DCR-SX45 that I had been using to film all the interviews when they were willing to be filmed.

We filmed everything that happened. Lens cap off, tested the lighting of the street lights, though our video quality was not as aesthetically pleasing as Sam and Will’s, there was nothing wrong with the device we used to record what we saw.

At night, the street was still vacant of parked cars. The streetlights painted with a sour orange glow, the shadows felt hyper real, as they were not as dark as the original video clip. They were there with a bluish tint, but I never feared for something that might come out of the darkness. I could see in the shadow where the sidewalk would meet the brick buildings. This too was lost in the footage we recorded.

Hampton and I joked as we braved a brisk breeze that nipped at our ears and noses. We had both brought hot coffee and left them in the car. We were too busy to initially notice the need for liquid warmth, and so we shivered away as we stood with the camcorder, taunting the supernatural to replicate the sights captured by Sam and Will.

They answered.

Something answered.

I accepted the unease first, and Hampton agreed. There were sounds of traffic on the streets nearby, but the feeling—that I felt—was that distinct silence one experiences after something falls and breaks unexpectedly. As with that situation, neither Hampton nor I wanted to take responsibility. It wasn’t fear of something evil—it was the fear that we had done something we weren’t supposed to.

And this fear was tinged by the excitement that we had a camcorder, with a fully charged battery ready to capture what happened next.

But a camera cannot capture imagination.

The cold burned us.

The sounds of the night taunted us.

Was it just a piece of trash that scurried behind us, leaving no trace when we twisted around in shock?

We were two grown adults, shaking in our boots even as the promise of other humans and their headlights shot up and down the streets, including the one we stood on. I have watched the footage of that night over and over again. I can’t remember if there was a sound, or if Hampton had started running and I just followed in sheer terror. But there had to be something that finally pushed our nerves beyond reason.

It took a while, but we laughed about it on the way home—after we watched the footage and could discern no supernatural forces were caught on video.

I want to note that I informed Sam Carpenter that we would be visiting the location that night. I could not get ahold of Will Castle, but I left a message with him. He never returned my call. Sam told me he was not available.

But both knew I would be there.

Despite my best efforts, only one person who I had spoken to would speak to me again after that night. It was Rob B. Though, he was not who I was looking for, he saw me and made sure I would listen to him.

ROB B.: So you went there?

I had not told him. For all he should’ve known, I was just there shopping. Perhaps Will had told him about pranking Hamilton and I? I played coy as he showed off his subdued but theatrical ability to haunt me.

ROB B.: I can smell it on you. It leaves a stench when one has been in the gardens of rot. The City. Where we grow decay and watch it bloom.

I joked and tried to get a more normal conversation started. But he would not have it.

Be honest, you’re just messing with me right now?

ROB B.: We own our own truth. We cannot share it. It is separate, but bound by all around us. Humanity is a fracture. The universe is broken, its power and secrets fragments within us all. There will be no honesty. Close your eyes, look away little one, for the universe seeks to take you back.

He did not let me interject, and eventually I walked away as he continued to spout more
mumbo jumbo
about the universe and my place in it.  I kept in mind what Sam and Will had warned me about when it came to Rob B.

But I still tried to make sense of what he said. I recorded it all on my smart phone. I listened to it until I was sure I was driving myself mad. Tired of his voice, I did transpose his speech to text, and then deleted the conversation from my phone.

I wish I hadn’t. I wish I could post the sound for others to make sense of. Hampton would not hear it. Maybe he was as busy as he claimed, or maybe he was scared of how insistent I was.

You see, other things had started to happen in our lives. We dreamed of that street. I remember one particular dream where I stared into the streetlight, unable to move. When I woke. I was in my bed, starring at the lamp that I had refused to turn off at night.

Hampton reminded me that from the get go I’d known the filmmakers’ intentions. They wanted to produce something that would be convincing. One of them could’ve easily been there that night. One of them could’ve instructed Rob B. to harass me (both were still in contact with him).

Or maybe they were still working together.

Neither would have anything to do with me. I tried every tactic, sending emails about trying to submit the documentary to festivals, and just asking for them to sign off on the use of the clip and their names and what not.

I could never muster the courage to go talk with Rob B. again. He would only damage my mind more. He’d only make me think and wonder and fear that there are things that go bump in the night.

When someone starts to babble on about the universe, it feels as if your chain is being yanked. But when you track down that video clip and watch it again, watch it with those thoughts in the back of your mind. Suddenly, I’m not watching a special effects clip.

There is narrative.

There is structure.

There is weight.

But there’s no truth.

So the interview is turned on me.

Do I believe the video is proof?

I knew when I started pursuing the story behind this that I would probably come out not knowing or perhaps being disappointed from what I learned. But my answer is in the note I gave at the start of this book. The second we try to capture something, the second we go looking for something very specific, it can no longer be what it is, it can only be what we want it to be or not what we want it to be. The truth is lost somewhere in our perception. The more we try to find it the more it rots.

So, yes, this is a work of fiction as are all things.

THE END.