The Forgotten Eden (10 page)

“
Grandpa spoke first.

“‘
I was hoping to see if the critter you saw today matched anything else that’s ever been reported around here, Jack’, he said. ‘I don’t think I’ve read or heard about any lizards or anything else quite like that. I mean, the Indians around here used to trade wild stories about giant leeches and serpents living in or around the Black Warrior and Tombigbee rivers, but no unusual lizards. At least none I know of. I should’ve gotten up off my lazy butt earlier and taken a good look at the damned thing when it sat on the porch. But, that other thing you brought in here this evening....’

“
He again looked outside into the growing darkness, turning the porch light on along with the backyard floodlights for a better view. Once satisfied there wasn’t anything amiss for the time being, he shrugged his shoulders and turned his attention back to us, both still seated at the kitchen table. Jeremy stared blankly at the wall behind me. As quiet as a church mouse, I would’ve bet my life he was wondering where exactly Grandpa had thrown the mysterious object.

“‘
Well, if I do catch sight of anything like what you saw earlier today, I intend to fill its sorry hind end with buck shot,’ he advised, moving back over to us. ‘I reckon it’d be better, though, if the damned thing just stayed away from here.
Period!

“‘
Anyway, I’m taking the shotgun with me to the living room as I’m sure either one of you boys can handle the Winchester just fine if that lizard or anything else tries to come through the back door.’

“
He headed for the dining room, which sat adjacent to the kitchen, glancing back toward us just before disappearing from our view on his way to the living room.

“‘
On second thought, why don’t you boys join me?’ he called from the dining room. ‘I’m sure we’ll be up to the task of responding if needed, and I believe the Braves are on television tonight. Be sure to bring the rifle, so we’ll have it handy.’

“
I stood up and noisily pushed in my chair toward the kitchen table, drawing another irritated look from my brother who stood up with me. I caught up with Grandpa as he stepped into the living room. Jeremy lingered in the kitchen for a few minutes longer as he needed another cigarette. But once done clearing a few dishes from the dinner table, he grabbed the Winchester and joined us.

***

“
Are you still with me so far, Agent McNamee?” asked Jack. “I’m probably boring you to death with this shit.”

“
Not at all,” Peter assured him. “
There are quite a few references to this
‘ Season’
your grandpa mentioned in the books I brought, so again, everything you’re talking about has relevance for me….
Are you ready for another Coke? I see you’re done with the one you’ve got in your hand. I’m afraid that poor can’s about to be split in two, by the looks of it.”

“
Yeah, I guess it is,” Jack replied, slightly embarrassed. He hadn’t noticed the torn seam across the empty can’s middle, and set it down near the recorder. “I might have another one in a little while, but I’m okay right now. You sure you don’t just want the ‘Cliff Notes’ version of my story instead, to speed this up a bit?”

“
Definitely not, Jack.” Peter chuckled warmly. “Your story seems to be working fine this way. You’ve got a captive audience sitting here, so please continue.”

“
Well, all right…. The living room was by far the largest room within our farmhouse, bearing much the same design originally built with so many years ago. A twelve-foot ceiling with hand engraved moldings similar to those in the kitchen and dining room. As I mentioned earlier, Grandpa had done some recent remodeling in the house, and the living room received quite a facelift.

“
He kept the large mahogany gun case that had been passed down for generations, and also a large oak bookcase that belonged to his mother. Almost everything else was new. Though determined to keep our home’s rich heritage intact, he spared no expense in redecorating the room with new furniture, draperies, rugs, and designer lighting to go along with a large home-theatre system.

“
Jeremy came into the living room and found that Grandpa and I’d taken our preferred places. Me on the right side of the over-stuffed sofa and Grandpa in his recliner-rocker, already with a magazine in one hand and his pipe and tobacco pouch in the other.

“
Jeremy took his spot at the far left end of the sofa. Neither of us cared for the middle, as a portrait of our great-great-grandmother hung above the sofa. The antique mirror above the mantel across the room leaned in just enough to provide whoever sat in that unenviable spot a clear view of her sullen stare. We tried to make Grandpa get rid of it, or at least move the portrait to another room, but he wouldn’t do it. He told us he wasn’t ready to part with his beloved grandma’s image. I think now he simply enjoyed watching our reaction whenever we caught a glimpse of her looking at us.

“‘
The game may be on already, boys,’ I remember him saying. ‘Why don’t one of you turn on the television and find out for sure.’

“
Jeremy picked up the remote from the coffee table and turned on the TV, while I confirmed in the satellite guide that the game had already started. An instant later, our quiet living room was filled with the sound of the roaring crowd at Turner Field, along with the announcers’ animated play by play. Within minutes, this single event at least temporarily displaced the recent bizarre events. Occasionally, Grandpa would look up from his magazine to verify the score and current inning.

“
Despite his seeming indifference, he got up from the recliner once thirty minutes had passed since we’d left the kitchen. He didn’t return to the living room for a good ten minutes, indicating to me that he’d thoroughly surveyed both floors of the house before reclaiming his pipe, magazine, and favorite chair again.

“
He maintained this routine for nearly two hours before I began to nod off. Reasonably certain we were in no immediate danger, he encouraged me to head upstairs to bed. Despite my weariness, I managed to flick on every light along the way up to my bedroom. The upstairs really was that spooky at times, and I often wished that either my grandfather or my surly brother would join me, at least until I’d reached the safety of my room. But Grandpa slept downstairs and Jeremy rarely went to bed before the wee hours. I’d learned to cope with the shadows, bumps, and noisy creaks as best I could.

“
When I reached my bedroom I quickly closed the door behind me. Even in darkness it was my sacred hideaway. None of the spookiness or creepy feelings ever followed me there.

“
I remember the moon was one night shy of its fullness, and beams of white light poured into my room, clearly illuminating everything around me. I got undressed, but before I crawled into my bed, I walked over to my window and looked out toward the majestic oak in the backyard. During the summer months, all I could usually see was the great expanse of the oak and its dense foliage. Only in fall and winter was I apt to find a clear view of the woods rising beyond the backyard’s rear wall.

“
That night, however, I could see part of the wood’s tree-line glistening in the moonlight through gaps in the oak tree’s leaves and branches. A gentle breeze pushed the branches back and forth, revealing even more of the woods’ beauty than I’d expected to see, thanks to the brilliant light from the moon. At least that’s what I originally thought it was.

“
I pressed my face against my window for a better look. It wasn’t ‘white’ like the moon beams. A golden hue, through the small gaps in the oaks’ branches I could tell this unusual radiance was extremely bright. It seemed to grow even brighter by the second and soon rivaled the very brightness of the sun. The entire oak became a darkened silhouette in front of it.

“
I stood in awe and at first couldn’t move. I wasn’t even aware my mouth had fallen open, and couldn’t control the soft moaning sound coming from deep within my throat. I finally managed to look away, but not before I heard my grandfather call to me from the bottom of the staircase.

“‘
Are you okay, Jack?’

“‘
Yeah, Grandpa. I’m fine!’

“
I moved over to my bedroom door. Just about to open it, the golden light receded, and disappeared altogether within the next few seconds.

“
I walked over to the window and peered out into the backyard again. A much softer glow hovered near the edge of the woods where Grandpa had thrown the thing earlier. I stood there, wondering if I should alert him and Jeremy about the light’s presence. I didn’t want to upset my grandfather again and felt certain that my brother would climb over the wall to retrieve the object most likely responsible for the strange light. Yet, if I didn’t tell anyone, what would happen if the light was sinister?

“
The light continued to dim, and since Grandpa was likely on one of his surveillance rounds when he called up to me, I decided to let the matter rest. It could probably wait until breakfast the next morning, unless he or Jeremy encountered something bad before then. I seriously doubted either one saw the light, despite how bright it was.

“
I stood at the window for a few more minutes, but all that remained was the moon’s natural luminance. I finally moved over to my bed and crawled under the covers. I remember how the moon’s glow filled every inch of my room that night, clearly illuminating everything around me including the cherished pictures of my mom and dad on top of my dresser. I drew comfort from having those photographs close by, never giving up hope my parents would someday return.

“
Thinking about them I started to drift off to sleep. A wild animal, perhaps a wolf, cried out from the nearby woods. Soon after, I was drawn into a restless night of strange dreams.”

“
Well, Jack, so far so good…. I look forward to where you’ll take us next.”

Peter had just returned to the table with a fresh cup of coffee. He removed his suit coat and draped it over the back of his chair, offering another warm smile to his subject as he sat down again.

Jack smiled in response, though tepid. Retelling his story revived painful memories buried deep within his psyche. He worried that unfolding dormant thoughts and feelings would surely mean more heartache.

“
Well?” the agent prodded impishly, while Jack sat in silence mulling his thoughts. “Are you ready to continue?”

“
Yeah, I think so.” Jack drew a deep breath and released it slow.

“
Do you need to eat something first?” asked Peter. “Your mention of a spaghetti dinner got me thinking about food. Marshall must be a pretty good cook, huh?”

“
He’s the best, in my biased opinion.”

“
Indeed.... Well, are you hungry?”

“
I am,” said Jack. “But, I want to get this over with first.”

“
Still nothing else to drink?”

“
No, I’m fine for now.”

“
All right. I believe I can wait to eat as well,” said Peter. “Proceed.”

“
The next morning I woke up clutching my pillow near the foot of my bed and felt very tired,” said Jack. “I remember lying there, stretching and yawning while a throng of birds sang noisily in the oak tree out back.

“‘
Hey, Jack! Get up son! Your breakfast is getting cold!’ Grandpa called from downstairs.

“
I could hear the clanking of silverware, plates, and dishes along with the muffled voices of my brother and grandfather down in the kitchen. I hurriedly dressed and ran downstairs.

“‘
Good morning, Jack,’ said Grandpa. ‘Breakfast is ready on the table.’

The aroma of eggs and bacon filled the air as my grandfather set the last steaming plate of scrambled eggs on the kitchen table. Jeremy looked up from the morning newspaper’s sports page long enough to acknowledge my continued existence.

“‘
Good morning, ya’ll,’ I said, and walked up to the table and sat down.

“
As usually the case, a short row of cereal boxes waited near my place setting. Grandpa handed me a small plate of bacon and eggs and I poured myself a bowl of corn flakes to go with it. Unusually hungry that morning, I dug into my food.

“‘
How’d you sleep, son?’ Grandpa asked me. ‘Looks like you’d rather have stayed in bed and slept awhile longer.’

“‘
I’m fine,’ I assured him.

“
But as I sat there eating my breakfast, strange images raced though my mind—
very
strange and terrifying images. I recalled bits and pieces of my dreams. They all related to the lizard and the mysterious golden object from the previous day.

“
While I sat there at the table, I caught glimpses of a magnificent city reminding me of ancient Mayan and Aztec ruins I’d seen pictures of during the past school year. The images faded quickly, but for a moment I lingered on a massive gold pyramid. I stood looking up from the pyramid’s base…. Suddenly several streams of blood poured down the steps, splattering me. And then a fairly large object flew toward me from the pyramid’s apex. I stepped aside just in time to miss the object as it slammed against the steps in front of me, hitting me with more blood.

“
The headless torso of a small child rested haphazardly across two steps. Horrified, I looked back up in time to see another object speeding toward me. The child’s severed head rained crimson just before it reached me.

“‘
Jack, are you all right?’ asked Grandpa. ‘You look like you’re a million miles away. What are you thinking about, son?’