TIME BEING Chapter 3. BAD THINGS ALWAYS HAPPEN IN THE BASEMENT
Chapter 3. BAD THINGS ALWAYS HAPPEN IN THE BASEMENT
A dying woman travels through time to significant points in her life, but things are not as she remembers them. Accompanied by a handsome young stranger and her childhood cat, the fate of both past and future now lies in her aged hands.
As a child, Sylvan had been afraid of the basement. Now here she was again, descending that fearsome flight of stairs into the dark where the demons lived. As she counted the familiar steps, felt the chill creep up her body, those fears returned. By the time she’d reached the bottom, she was scared to death.
It probably had to do with the ancient fairy tales her grandmother read to her before bed—the ones with blood and gore, with morals to their stories. Those morbid illustrations that went with them—no child should be exposed to Arthur Rackham’s “Tales of the Brothers Grimm” before the age of three!
“Aron? Where are you? I can’t see a damn thing!”
She laughed, registering that at her age—the age she was in this retro-version of herself—she would hardly have known the meaning of the word, damn, let alone dared to use it within the walls of her family home.
Something touched her ankle, and her scream banished all thoughts of swears. The thing came again, spider-soft, tickling along her leg.
“Purrumph?”
“Brie!” Sylvan gasped, sweeping the wayward cat into her arms. “You scared the…” She paused, deciding not to continue down the road of foul language. “You scared me, you little stinker.”
Brie pressed her sideburns across Sylvan’s cheek. Don’t be afraid. I’ll protect you.
“Will you?” Sylvan said out loud.
“Will I what?” A match struck farther on in the blackness, lighting the young man’s face. He was staring at her without comprehension. Sylvan thought this odd, since she was the one who didn’t comprehend.
“Just talking to the cat,” she said finally. “I talk to cats. Don’t you?”
“Of course. And sometimes they talk back.”
The match winked out, and the dark closed around them once more, then another light flickered. At first Sylvan thought it was a small flashlight or possibly a time-traveling cell phone, but as she drew closer, she saw a tiny round glow hovering in the air, totally separate from the man.
Sylvan eyed the spectacle suspiciously. “How are you doing that?”
“Doing what? Oh,” Aron sighed. “Just something I picked up on my travels.”
“Is it magic?”
He snorted. “Not at all. But I don’t have time to explain the fundamentals of alternative physics right now. Come on, it’s this way.”
Alternative physics? Child Sylvan had not yet heard of that mystifying branch of the sciences, but old woman Sylvan had learned a few things in her lifetime. She’d been under the impression that physics was physics, and there could be no such thing as an alternative. Magic might have been easier to accept.
She followed the bobbing ball of light and Aron who was headed for the rear of the basement, skirting the generations of miscellanea taking up space there. An old-fashioned wringer washer; a wood stove tipped on its side; a workbench piled with photography equipment—her father’s. Then the monolithic furnace with its silver octopus arms running every which way across the ceiling. Aron ducked behind it, coming out only long enough to beckon Sylvan to hurry.
“There’s nothing back there,” Sylvan called after him, watching the light waver and grow dimmer until it was nearly gone. Then it was gone, leaving her once again in dusky obscurity.
How can that be? she pondered. Had Aron turned out the magic orb? There was a second explanation, but it didn’t make sense—that there really was something more behind the ancient furnace, something other than the lichen covered concrete wall she had known all her life.
Sylvan had to make a choice. She could stay in the dark, awaiting the coming of whatever evil forces were pursuing them. She could go back up to the kitchen—wasn’t it time for a snack, and where was her mama anyhow? Or she could follow Aron and see what happened next.
Before she knew it, she had ducked behind the furnace, on her way to another impossible place.
Chapter 4. SAVE THE CHILD coming next Saturday.
For previous chapters, look here.
