“Okay, what was going on back there?” Elliot asks once we’re back on the road toward home. “You just stopped and then freaked out, then started running.”
“What did that man want, Eleni?” Reed asks quietly.
“You saw him?” My voice cracks, revealing my level of anxiety about the situation.
“What?” Elliot asks, “What are you two talking about.”
“There was a man in the woods. I could feel his eyes on us, watching our moves. But I could tell he wasn’t watching me specifically.” Reed whispers, visibly upset. “Eleni, what did he want with you?”
“I don’t know.” I force out. Tears fill the brims of my eyes and with all my last energy and willpower, I attempt to keep them prisoner inside myself. I can’t break down in front of my brothers, I’m supposed to be the older sibling, the one in control. I don’t have control of any part of my life, how am I supposed to be in control of this mess? I can feel myself start to shake, finally taking into account how terrifying that event was. Traumatic, really.
I slow my gray Pontiac down and pull it over onto the side of the road. We’re still a little ways out of Redland so there’s no sight of town buildings. All we’re surrounded by are cornfields. Miles and miles of row upon row of green stalks with dried bristles poking out the top of them, reaching for the clouds.
“If there was a weird guy at Ashy Lake, how come nobody saw him?” Elliot asks.
“Everybody was in the lake, we were walking away from it.” I respond, “Besides, something tells me that he’s good at hiding in plain sight, right in front of the naked eye.”
“What tells you that?”
“Intuition, I suppose.” I take three deep breaths, trying to get my shaky body under control. I know I’m in no condition to drive, but there’s no way I want to be in the vicinity of that lake. I need to get my brothers home, where I can figure out what in the world that was.
“We need to tell Dad. He can take care of it.” Elliot suggests.
“That’s probably a good idea.” Reed says, “Especially since that man was armed.”
“Excuse me? He was what?” Elliot turns back.
“He was carrying something that looked like a knife. It was knife-shaped at least.” Reed explains.
“We’re definitely telling Dad.” Elliot says, then looks at me. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” I lie in a squeaky high-pitched voice.
“Then how come we aren’t driving?” I don’t respond. I still am too shaken up to want to drive. “Let me drive.” Elliot suggests.
“Uh, no.” I say, “Neither of you have taken driver’s training, there’s no way you’re touching the steering wheel of my car.”
“Come on, I’m a good driver.” Elliot whines.
“You gonna be saying the same thing when we’re crashed into a tree and stranded in the middle of nowhere?” I glare.
“That wouldn’t happen.” Elliot growls.
“I know for a fact that you have never driven a car in your life.” I spat, shaking my head. I take my car out of park and start driving again, recovered enough to maintain a steady pace on the road.
“At least let me turn this crap off the radio.” Elliot leans forward toward my stereo, trying to change the music to rap. I smack his hand out of the way.
“Don’t touch my radio.” I hiss. Elliot holds his hands up in surrender.
“Yeah, Elliot, turn it onto something good.” Reed says, indicating that my classic rock is garbage.
“I don’t want to get smacked again, it hurts.” Elliot whines, “She’s aggressive about her music.” At this time, we’re approaching downtown. It’s the heat of the afternoon, thermometers reaching roughly 105 degrees fahrenheit. I’m shocked at how many people are walking down the sidewalk. Quite a few are popping out of the few stores in the downtown, only to pop into another one immediately. They’re most likely indulging on the free air conditioning those places have to offer.
“Don’t be a wuss, just change the radio.” Reed dares Elliot. I shoot him a look through my rearview mirror.
“Anyone who touches my radio is dead.” I growl. I let my eyes stray away from the road for a second, perusing the people on the sidewalk. I recognize every face practically instantly, I know their names, their family members, how old they are, as well as gossip they’ve told me over the years. Being sheriff’s daughter gives you some perks as well as some downfalls. As much as I enjoy saying I don’t like being connected to the complex spider web of a social network existing in this small midwestern town, I very much am. I could write a novel of the backstories of each and every person on the sidewalk, even though none of those novels would be enjoyable to write or read.
Out of all those people on the sidewalk, one catches my eye in particular. An elderly man, clearly above his seventies, hobbling down the sidewalk in a way that looks clearly unhealthy. From the back, I can’t recognize the man. Really, I have no idea who he is, which is strange since I know every citizen in this town. The old man looks really overheated and as if he’s on his last leg, quite literally. On his right leg he’s limping in an obvious way, barely able to withstand any weight being put on the thing. He also seems to walk in a way that looks like he’s never stepped foot outdoors, which I find odd.
As we pass him, the old man turns to face my car. He makes direct eye contact with me and I notice how oddly beautiful his eyes are. They’re an alarmingly bright blue, like a shining type of ice or an aquamarine jewel. Something about his eyes tells me that there’s a darkness inside him, lurking deep within his body. His mouth is agape, showing quite a resemblance to a fish out of water. What would make this old man walk through downtown Redland in 105 degrees? I wonder. I’m still transfixed by his eyes, I can’t seem to look away. His eyes seem to be trying to convey a message to me, or connect on a spiritual level.
Suddenly, like the snap of two fingers, the beauty and color drains out of that elderly man’s eyes. With one last hopeless and desperate look, the man’s eyes roll back in his head and he collapses to the ground like a piece of paper under a heavy rock. I scream, startling my brothers who were still arguing about Elliot attempting to change the music in my car.
“Eleni, the road!” Reed yells. I turn my head back to the road and notice my Pontiac swerving into the other lane, against oncoming traffic. I yank the wheel away from the large truck speeding toward us and suddenly find myself aiming the car to an innocent blue Chevy parallel parked to my right. I grip the steering wheel firmly and get control of the car again, right back on track to where it should be. I can hear Elliot wheezing beside me.
“Are you trying to kill us?” Elliot yells.
I don’t respond because my mind is lost in thought. Over and over the man’s gaze played in my eyes, how so quickly they became so lifeless. It almost seemed as if the man was trying to tell me something, but I couldn’t figure it out. What is happening today? I think, bewildered that so much could happen in this dull place in one day.
“Hey, look, some old guy collapsed on the sidewalk!” Reed exclaims.
“Really?” Elliot turns around to try and see, but by now I’m sure a crowd has formed, making it difficult for the twins to see anything. I stay silent but step on the pedal, desperately craving the comfort of my room and for once wanting to be out of my car. For the last three miles home, the man’s eyes haunt me, playing on repeat like a scratched record in my broken mind.
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