The Maze - the Lost Labyrinth (2 page)

He took to the air and swooped down to perch on the roof of Adam's Ribs. The Piper smiled a black-toothed grin as he saw the lust that smoldered there, hotter than anything in the barbecue pit. Two lovers from long ago had found each other after so many years. In celebration, The Piper decided to play a love song. As he placed the flute to his cancerous lips, he saw feelings stirring inside a defenseless man's heart that had nothing to do with his unsuspecting wife.

It wouldn't be long now.

Satisfied with a job well done, The Piper left his perch on top of the restaurant and moved to the house on Pinecrest Street to implement the second part of his plan.

Chapter 5

Darrell Gene Rankin started off his day as he usually did: with a heaping handful of meds. Lately, everything in his house talked to him, and the doctor assured him the meds would keep things quiet. After hitching his sleep pants up and running his fingers through his matted hair, he chased down a variety of blue, red, yellow, and green tablets with a gulp of tepid tap water. The pills made his mouth dry as they slid down his throat. He took another gulp of water to finish the job.

At the other end of the house, he heard the toaster and his electric toothbrush chattering about something in their white noise language, and he clamped his hands over his ears, willing the pills to hurry up and do their job. The voices were always louder first thing in the morning, but he didn’t know why. Maybe all of the gadgets in his house woke up at the same time he did. It sounded as good as any other theory.

He scratched his beer belly and belched loudly as he lumbered down the hallway in search of breakfast. Cautiously, he withdrew his hands from his ears, hoping the ruckus had stopped. The machinery in his house still chattered away. The washer and dryer discussed what a wonderful family they all were-one big cohesive unit of gears, belts, cogs, and pulleys. The microwave oven chimed in, buzzing about how wonderful it felt to be included in such a tightly-knit group. All of the clocks in the house agreed, voicing their feelings in a Morse code smattering of short ticks and long tocks. The kitchen appliances got in on the act next.

A new voice came out of nowhere. “We have a job for you.”

Darrell Gene knew the way the appliances sounded when they spoke to him. This was something different.

“Who's there?”

He searched his house for the source of the voice. He checked every room, looking in closets, under beds, in the bathtub, any place that might conceal an intruder. The house was empty except for him and the voice.

“We need to discuss your destiny. Your place in this world.”

“I don’t have a place in this world.”

“Oh, yes.” The voice spoke with confidence. “You have a very important role to play.”

“I’ve never been important.” Darrell Gene thought back to all of the times his father called him worthless.

“You are important now,” the voice said. “I need you.”

“Who are you? You’re just a voice in my head. The pills will make you go away soon enough.”

Darrell Gene clamped his hands over his ears, willing the sounds to disappear.

The voice persisted. “I‘m very real. It’s my job to speak up on behalf of those who have been trampled by Fate. Poor, downtrodden souls like you who have been scoffed at, ridiculed, mistreated. I'm a friend, and I need a couple of small favors.”

“What kind of favors?”

“Ones that will bring rewards the likes of which you've never seen. In exchange for these small favors, I will reward you with a family. I know you've always wanted one of your own.”

“A family?” Darrell Gene wondered if it could be true.

“A family.”

“What do I have to do?”

“It’s very simple. The first thing I need you to do is deliver a small note.”

Darrell Gene nodded. “I can do that.”

“I have no doubt,” the voice said. “Do we have a deal? A few small tasks in exchange for a family?”

“How do I know you can deliver what you promise?”

“Look around you, dear boy. Look at your life in its current state. What do you have to lose? Have a little faith.”

Darrell Gene chewed on that reminder of how sad his life truly was. “Fine. I'm sure this is all a dream anyway. The meds will have me thinking clearly again in no time.”

“So it's a win-win situation. If you do what I ask and I turn out to be real, you end up with a big reward. If I'm something that can be chased away with a handful of pills, you will come to your senses soon and see the foolishness in all of this before any harm is done.”

“Fair enough.” Darrell Gene’s mind raced at the prospect of having a family, people who loved him and cared about him. “Tell me what to do.”

“Excellent! Here's what you should write on that note.”

Suddenly, the chattering inside Darrell Gene's house went from a white-noise murmuring to a deafening roar that sounded like feedback. Yet, he understood every word.

To the untrained eye, Darrell Gene’s house was nothing special. His small two-bedroom single-story with red brick and a small yard that boasted more dirt than grass was empty. An angel viewing the scene from overhead saw something very different. The place was infested.

Demons in The Piper's employ swarmed around the house like ants stirred into a frenzy, spewing curses and blasphemies. From the looks of things they had set up camp on his doorstep. Darrell Gene scarcely noticed the difference.

He was too busy writing down what he had been told and preparing to deliver the note. Nervously, he looked both ways before crossing the street, ran to his neighbor's mailbox and did what he had been told to do.

“Very good,” the voice told him. “Now, grab your cell phone and hurry to this address. I need you to snap a photograph and send a simple text.”

Darrell Gene was already headed out the door toward his truck.

Chapter 6

The air was filled with noise. Clanging steel. Chuffing engines. Grinding gears. Smashing rocks. It sounded like it was raining hammers.

Iron gates locked into place. Waters rushed to fill unseen moats. Deadly machinery was set to trigger even deadlier devices. The construction of the maze was almost complete.

Bricks were laid using grief as a mortar. Walls were cemented into place with sorrow. Lights were forsaken in favor of darkness. Crude agonizing designs were etched into the floors, and the history of one man’s sin was scrawled in painstaking detail on every inch of the dreadful place.

Amy might have heard the noises of construction, but Peter screamed too loudly for her to think straight. Although he was only two years old, he sensed that something was wrong, that there was turmoil in his house.

As calmly as she could under the circumstances, Amy got Peter a sippy cup of juice, kissed him gently on the head, and put him in bed. She went to the couch and collapsed in an exhausted heap, weeping as she read the note that someone had dropped in their mailbox.

Was it possible? Had Jamie really done such a thing? When she asked him about his loyalty to her earlier in the day, she hadn't been all that worried. More than anything else, she wanted to hear him say that he loved her and that he would never do anything like that to hurt her. Never in her wildest dreams would she have imagined that there might have been any actual guilt. She felt like a fool.

She paced about the living room, alternately crying and wringing her hands. She picked up her phone and put it back down. A couple of times she grabbed the car keys. She even went as far as to dig the suitcase out of the hall closet, but she wasn’t going to leave. Not yet anyway.

All she had to go on was a crudely scrawled anonymous note accusing her husband of infidelity; that wasn’t worth risking Peter’s happiness. She wanted to hear Jamie’s side of things, especially now that she had a name to go along with the crime.

Although it hurt like a thousand knives to the heart, Amy read the note one last time and wept openly.

“
Ur husband is having an affair with Karen.”

With trembling hands, she picked up the phone and dialed her husband's number. She had to know and couldn't wait any longer. The not knowing was killing her.

“Hey,” Jamie said. “What's up? I'm sorry I didn't get to call you at lunch.”

“I just got a note about you.” Amy struggled to keep her voice from cracking. “Who is Karen?”

“Karen?” Jamie repeated. He tried to seem clueless but overcompensated in the process.

“Yes, Karen. Who is she?”

“Just a friend. Why are you asking?”

“The note says you are having an affair with her. Is that true?”

Jamie went quiet on the other end, and struggled to find his voice.

“Who told you that?”

“I don't know. They left a note. That's not what's important though. I need to know if it's true.”

“Absolutely not!”

“Then why would someone say that?”

Jamie wasn't sure how to respond. His mind raced, trying to piece together what was happening to him.

“Is it true? Say something, Jamie! Talk to me! Are you cheating on me? When I asked you this morning, I was only mildly concerned. Now, I'm scared to death. Is there someone else?”

Jamie sighed. “No, there's no one else. Just you.”

“So you haven't talked to this woman? You don't have her phone number? What is your connection to her?”

Jamie stuttered and stammered, knowing how everything was going to look.

“She's an old girlfriend. I haven't seen her since high school.”

“But you've seen her recently.”

“I just saw her today for the first time in years. I haven't slept with her.”

“You can be unfaithful without sex.” Amy seethed. “I need to know the whole story here!”

“I will come home so we can talk about this.”

“You can talk to me now!”

“I think it's better if we do this in person. It’s not what you think.”

“Don't you dare come home!” Amy broke down in tears, although she had vowed not to. “I don't want to see your face right now!”

“Amy...”

“I can either pack mine and Peter's things or you can pack yours. The choice is yours.”

“Babe, please...”

Amy hung up on him.

She collapsed in a crumpled heap on the kitchen floor, sobbing so hard her breath came in ragged hitches. This wasn't supposed to happen to her.

What nobody bothered to tell Amy was that, in every war, collateral damage was inevitable.

Those tears flowed even harder a few moments later when a photo popped up in her text folder from a number she didn't recognize. Amy shrieked when she saw a time-stamped picture of Jamie taken at lunch earlier in the day. She didn't have to read the waitress' name tag to know that the raven-haired beauty was Karen. Karen's hand was on top of Jamie's, and she wore a smile reminiscent of any man-eating predator.

It was a look of hunger.

Chapter 7

I didn't get much work done when I got back to the office. I kept looking at Karen's phone number on that receipt and letting my mind wander off in labyrinthine directions. A couple of times I picked up my cell and thought about how the conversation might go if I were to call her. I imagined her voice, thought about the way she had looked at me in the restaurant, and tried to remember the last time Amy had looked at me that way. I was tempted, and no matter how much I tried not to think about her, my mind was like a boomerang, eventually circling back to Karen and her thinly veiled offer.

Your wife never has to know.

I told myself I had some very important choices to make, and I wasn‘t sure what to do. There should have been no choice to make. I should have been doing whatever it took to mend the schism between me and Amy, but somewhere in my perception of the future, the road before me had forked. No longer was there only one path to choose. Now, there were two.

I drove toward the address on that receipt, mulling over my options. I would just cruise past and see where she lived. I wasn’t going to stop. That wasn’t the kind of man I was- I was merely curious. She and I had history, and it was logical that I was interested in the life she had carved out for herself.

Of course, it was an excuse. I was looking for a reason to go over there and see Karen. Since running into her again at the restaurant, I hadn’t been able to get her out of my head.

I guess there was a part of me that wondered what might have happened if Karen hadn’t moved away. I never really stopped caring about her. Sure, over time the love had faded to little more than a series of fond memories that I replayed in my mind every now and again, but we never went through the nasty breakup that tears so many couples apart. We ended on a sad note, but the feelings had never truly gone away. This was a door of opportunity, a gateway to the past that could change everything. I merely had to decide if I was going to walk through that door or let it slam in my face.

I think there was a part of me that didn’t really believe anything would happen. I had never been unfaithful to Amy, and I didn’t really believe I’d allow myself to cross that line. The other part of me was excited about the fact that the line was there to be crossed. I wasn’t thinking straight at that point. I wasn’t considering how much I was about to hurt Amy or how Peter’s life might turn out without me there day after day to mold and guide him. I had been miserable for quite a while, and I was driving in search of happiness. If only I had realized my family had nothing to do with the misery. The source of that pain came from within. I was about to punish the wrong people.

I know the logic was flawed. Too many emotions flared, and my mind raced in a thousand different directions. It was like the lynchpin holding my life together had just been pulled, and things were falling apart before my very eyes. I honestly wasn’t sure I could put the pieces back together, and as a result, I didn’t focus on that.

I knew the apartment complex where Karen lived and had little trouble finding it. Part of me hoped that she wouldn’t be home, but another part of me was expectant--almost giddy. I wanted to see her again, and no amount of denial on my part would change the way my heart felt.