All The Dark Places

8. Green Leaf Journal

    Stepping into normal felt like stepping into a lie. People sipped tea. They gossiped. They worried. They laughed at silly jokes. All of this seemed foolish. Fortunately, Felicia had been too busy chasing butterflies in the park to take any notice of what happened to Max. By the time she had caught a butterfly, and her chocolate bar had melted down her wrist, Max was back to normal, and the punctures in Scott's hand had vanished. Pretending that everything was just fine was an Oscar worthy performance, but Rosalind did not want to scare the child. They told no one. Who would believe them? 

      "I need to call my husband," Rosalind said, her hands shaking. "He should be in Argentina by now. His plane should have landed at two o'clock our time. So, an hour ago. I doubt he is at his hotel yet, Roz. He won't have a connection." 

      "I can't tell him this. How can I possibly tell him about this?" 

      "He would believe you." 

      "I know, and that's why I can't tell him. It would scare the hell out of him. I can't do that to him." 

     She hung her head and felt a pain right in her heart. 

      "Roz, I don't think anyone would believe us. Anyone." 

     She hesitated, chewing nervously on her fingernail, a habit that formed within the hour. 

      "One person might believe us. Maybe two people. Toby and Ivy Bracks." 

      "You said they're both nuts, that Toby is a drunk, and his daughter is weird." 

      "Sometimes weird is good. Toby talked about seeing unusual animals in the woods." 

      "Yeah, bears and wolves but what we saw was not a bear or a wolf." 

      "Obviously, but we have to talk to somebody. Somebody has to be able to help." 

      "Help with what? A fucking alien invasion?" 

      "Help get that thing out of your hand." 

     Scott rubbed his eyes roughly and shook his head. He took a long look at Felicia, who was busying herself thumbing through books. The parlor was almost empty. Only Winston Abrams shared the space, and he looked completely engrossed in paperwork at one of the tables. 

      "We have just got to stay calm. I am not letting some old drunk root around in my skin looking for shiny things, OK? So give up." 

      "Then someone else is going to have to do it." 

      "I can't cope with that," he said.

      "You want that thing to stay inside you?" 

      "Maybe it was nothing," Scott said but did not look convinced. 

      "It didn't look like nothing to me. I think... I think the birds, the earthquake... it's all connected."

      "Jesus, this is insane." 

      "Wait. Scott, where is everybody?"

      "I dunno. Hey um, Winston?" 

     Winston did not look up from his papers but replied with a deep baritone, 

      "Yes?" 

      "Where did everyone go?" 

     He looked up then, as if to admonish them for being stupid. 

      "To the servants common room." 

      "What? Why?" 

      "Because there is a large television set in there, and they wanted to watch the news in a comforting communal setting. I couldn't listen to their whining anymore. So I find myself here."