Post 19

(continued from previous post) “That’s better. Let’s just be reasonable, right? Here’s what I want you to do,” said Gerald. “I left you a little present. It’s from both of us, Laura and me. Walk out of your house, take a left out your driveway and go around the corner. Half way up the street, you’ll find Laura’s car. The keys are under the passenger seat waiting for you. Between the seats, you’ll find a map. Listen to me, Peter. Are you listening?” Gerald waited for Peter to reply.

“Yes, I’m listening.” Peter’s voice cracked. He was seething with anger and steeped in adrenaline.

“Start the car,” Gerald continued, “follow the map, and don’t draw any attention to yourself. It’ll take you about half an hour to get there. You give me what you took from me, and I’ll tell you where Laura is.”

In a voice that was quiet but forceful, Peter said, “I don’t know what I took from you. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Come on, Peter. Don’t be coy. You’re a young man of certain talents, talents that I have a particular understanding of. You used those talents at a moment when my guard was down and...” Gerald’s composure fractured, and he began shouting into the phone: “YOU STOLE HIM FROM ME.”

Gerald stopped talking for a moment. Peter listened closely, but could only hear the sound of Gerald breathing heavily into the phone. Peter imagined him trying to calm himself down, and gave him all the time he needed to do that, so that he would have no reason to hurt Laura any more. He jumped back to the memory-within-a-vision of Gerald and the redhead having sex, and remembered how rough he was with her. He feared for Laura, thinking that he could do to her what he did to the redhead. Nobody deserved to be raped, least of all his patient, beautiful friend.

Finally, Gerald began speaking again. “You stole him from me, and I intend to take him back from you. It will be quick and painless,” he promised. “You have absolutely nothing to be afraid of.”

“I don’t care about that. Just don’t hurt Laura.”

“If you don’t want Laura hurt,” he said plainly, “get here in thirty minutes or less.”

Peter heard the line disconnect. He stood still in the room with the phone still pressed to his ear. Should he do what Gerald said? Should he tell someone? Dan? His father? The police? Should he get a weapon? Whatever he did, he had to move fast. If it took half an hour for him to get to wherever the map tells him, he has no time to spare. He looked around his room for anything that he could grab quickly. The boxes didn’t help. The trophies would do no good, and would likely break rather than do any damage. His eyes fell on the Louisville Slugger leaning against his dresser, and he immediately lunged forward and grabbed it. He then spun on his heel and headed out of his room.

He didn’t want to draw attention to himself as Gerald had instructed him. He crept down the stairs and out the back door so that he wouldn’t have to walk through the living room where his parents were watching television. He was outside quickly and closed the door quietly behind him. He turned to run down the walkway and out to the street when the motion-activated light over the door turned on. He cringed at the brightness, but it was too late now. He broke into a run, looking quickly through the windows as he passed to see if anyone noticed him running past.

Focused only on getting to the car, he sprinted to the sidewalk. Nobody was on the street or sidewalk right now. He didn’t notice where the nearest car might have been. He ran to the corner and turned hard to the left, as though he was rounding the bases. He kept running, the trees along the sidewalk rushing past him in a blur. He got up to Laura’s car and stopped short next to the passenger door, transferring the bat he carried into his left hand and reaching for the door handle with his right. He tried the handle, but it was locked! His panic rose and in frustration, he spun himself in a circle and swung the bat at the air with a guttural shriek before running to the driver’s side of the car. This side was unlocked, so he tossed the bat into the back seat and got in. The keys and directions were exactly where Gerald told him they would be. At first, he tried looking at the map while fumbling with the keys, trying to get them into the ignition. After dropping the keys and not really comprehending the map, he gave up on trying to do both things at once. He picked up the keys and held them in his hand while he looked at the map, trying to get his bearings. If he read it right, he would have to drive to Glendale, which was across town. He told himself he would look more closely at the map when he was underway. He put the key in the ignition and started Laura’s car.

He barely remembered the drive across town. He was too focused on violent fantasies of what he would do to Gerald when he got face to face with him. As he drove, though, his reason began to reassert itself, and he tried to come up with a plan. Obviously the baseball bat in the back seat was a bad idea. If he showed up with that, he was going to get not just himself, but Laura hurt, and hurt badly. He recalled Gerald’s words about how after he gave Gerald what he wanted, only then would Gerald tell him where he was holding Laura. It had to be within half an hour of where he was going to meet her, but then again, most of the city of Denver was in that radius. He felt hopeless and defeated.

As he exited I-25 onto Colorado Boulevard, he was overwhelmed with nausea. He forced himself to drive on. He was only a couple miles away now. He approached Mississippi Avenue where he would be turning right, and turned early, into a strip mall parking lot. He parked the car and got out, nausea threatening to become vomiting any time. He needed some air. He made good time getting this far and was only minutes away from where he was to meet up with Gerald. He tried to relax. Leaning against the car door, he forced himself to relax, to breathe and to think. The cool air helped to clear his head, but did nothing to take away his sense of despair.

“What am I up against here?” he asked aloud. In answer, his vision began to blur. He touched his eyes, not sure if it could just have been despondent tears escaping. “Oh, shit,” he said, and opened the car door. He sat in the driver’s seat and closed the door just as a vision began. It was a terrifying, vulnerable feeling because he was utterly alone. Nobody was at his side to protect him from himself. Even worse, anybody could see him, and thus far he has had no control over himself while the vision played out.

A scene revealed itself to him: the door before him was opening. He vaguely recognized it at first, and recognition hit home when the door fully opened to reveal the hotel room beyond. Straight in, over the sink was the mirror on the far wall that he had seen with sprays of red on it. For now, though, it was clean. To the left was the bed. Further left was a chair, between the bed and window. Along the wall to the right is a dresser with a television on it, and a small refrigerator next to it on the far side. Peter stepped – wait. Peter corrected himself. That would be Gerald that stepped into the room. He took the key out of the lock and tossed it onto the dresser before moving to the bed. Behind him he heard the clinking of glass. It sounded like bottles hitting against each other. He turned around to sit down and saw Gerald walking into the room carrying a six-pack of beer. How could that be possible? If Gerald is standing in front of him, who was he?

Gerald slammed the door shut and walked to the refrigerator. He opened the door and put the beer he was carrying into it, save one bottle that he kept out, opened and drank half of in one chug while Peter watched. Then he held out the half-empty bottle to Peter, who accepted it with a very feminine hand. “Oh, my God,” Peter thought to himself. “I’m the redhead.” Then he remembered the blood on the mirror and the coroner’s car. “The redhead is dead. Did Gerald kill her?” Peter looked up to see Gerald swinging a closed right fist at his head, a haymaker that connected solidly with his head. This knocked him back to the real world where he had fallen towards the center console of Laura’s car in reaction to the punch. The world around him returned just in time for him to see a Glendale police car driving past him on Mississippi Avenue. He froze in place until the cop was out of sight, then put the car into gear. He pulled out of the parking lot and onto Mississippi, turning right. He drove a couple blocks and turned left, following the map, and finally found the parking garage that Gerald was directing him to. He entered tentatively. The garage was in poor repair. In places it was cordoned off with “No Trespassing” signs and rope. One of the ropes had been cut, though, inviting him in. It led around in a circle downward, into the lower level of the garage. Peter knew this was some sort of trap.

He arrived in the lower level. He could barely see around him in the darkness. The car ran over a couple larger rocks that were on the floor of the garage, and Peter stopped, putting the car in park and turning it off. He took a deep breath to work up his nerve, then opened the door. The console light of the car made faint shadows in its vicinity. Peter got out of the car. He could faintly hear an unnerving scraping noise coming from the darkest corner of the garage. He took a couple tentative steps in the direction of the noise, kicking a stone out of his way accidentally, when he heard footsteps approaching. Gerald, Aura Man, emerged from the darkness. With the only light coming from Laura’s car behind him, undulating shadows were thrown over Gerald, who limped forward, looking even more sinister than Peter had ever seen him.

“Welcome, Peter,” Gerald said menacingly.

“Where’s Laura?”

“Oh, now, let’s not be hasty. She’s nearby. But first, we have some business to attend to. You have something of mine and I plan to take it back.” Gerald took a step forward. Peter felt like retreating, but stood his ground. Gerald took another step and was easily in reach. If he wanted to do anything to Peter, he could now. “Are you ready? This won’t hurt a bit.”

Peter heard the effort that Gerald put into the last word and knew that Gerald was going to try to hit him. A flash of the vision he had in the parking lot made him drop down as fast as he could. He felt the wind from Gerald’s punch whistle over his head as he squatted, and his hands settled on chunks of broken concrete from the crumbling garage, which he grabbed up. From his crouched position, Peter launched himself backward to put some distance between him and Gerald. He landed on his back near the side of the car. From this position, he hurled one of the chunks of concrete side-armed at Gerald, which ricocheted off Gerald’s head and flew past him in a shallow arc. Gerald was stunned and cried out at the impact. The stone continued its travel across the parking lot and pounded the side of Gerald’s car, setting off his car alarm. Instantly, the whole garage was illuminated by the car’s red and yellow lights, flashing on and off while the horn blared, filling their ears with a disorienting cacophony of sound and echoes. In the flashes of light, Peter saw a shape sitting against the furthest wall. He looked and in the next flash, could tell that it was Laura. While his attention was diverted, he peripherally saw Gerald retreat around Laura’s car. Peter stood up as quickly as he could and stepped towards the front of Laura’s car. He still had one stone in his hand and watched attentively for movement on the other side.

It didn’t take long for Gerald to reveal himself. He stood to full height next to Laura’s car. Peter could see a trickle of blood dripping down his face, looking black in the dim light. Peter focused, trying to shut out the sound of the car alarm and the crazy strobe-effect from Gerald’s car alarm. He cocked his leg and drew his hand back, then hurled the stone at Gerald with all the strength he could summon. A flash of the car alarm illuminated the travel of the stone but turned off as the stone made impact. Peter could not tell where. With the echoes, he wasn’t even sure the stone had hit, but the next flash of light showed an empty space where Gerald had been standing.

Peter took that as a sign to get himself out of this situation. He ran over to where Laura was, against the wall. Her hands and feet were bound, and her mouth covered in tape. He removed the tape first, then helped her to her feet. He was trying to get her to the car, but she couldn’t walk, so he picked her up and began to carry her there instead. He got within twenty feet of Laura’s car when the alarm disarmed. Gerald had pushed the button on his key ring to turn the alarm off, which meant he was still a threat.

“Going somewhere, Peter?” Gerald asked. His voice was coming from in front of him to the right, from behind Laura’s car. “It wouldn’t be fair for you to get what you want and leave me with nothing, now would it?”

“Let us go, Gerald,” Peter implored.