Flash Fiction Challenge: Another Roll of the Dice

Flash Fiction Friday.  I got Southern Gothic / Noir.  Must include a secret room.  Must also include a locked door.

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Thump.

His hands long since lost sensation. Fingers, sacks of mush. Bones shattered. He pounds anyway.

Thump.

Everything Jim Lockhart needs is behind this goddamn door. Doesn't know how long he's been here. But je knows he's a failure. Failed to support his family. Failed to help his sick wife. Failed as a man.

He weeps. Quietly at first, then loud, hacking sobs. He looks to the blood streaked door in front of him. His hands useless, he resorts to something else to pound on the door.

Thump.

A knot forms above his brow. Dull, throbbing pain.

Thump.

His forehead splits. Blood seeps into his eyes, drips off his broken nose.

Thump.

A loud ringing in his ears.

Th--ccrnk.

Fractured shards of skull penetrate his frontal lobe. He twitches. Sucks in wet, choking breathes. He didn't plan on drowning in lungfuls of his own blood from a blunt force lobotomy when he woke up this morning.

But hardly anybody does.

* * * * *

I've been aware of the story since childhood. You don't grow up in this holler without hearing local legends. Didn't put much weight behind it, though. The story was told alongside tales of knights and princesses, vegetables under mattresses, and magical beans. Not something you put much stock in after age twelve.

The yarn spun is of a locked door. Behind it... a secret room containing everything you need for a perfect life. People claim to have seen it.

People also claim to have seen bigfoot.

My cousin Jed is one. Jed's spent years looking for the room. Rumors place it in a cabin in the mountains. Jed claims to know where it is. Guy couldn't find both shoes when we were kids.

Jed's search doubled over the last six months. Due to his little sister on the verge of dying of leukemia. I don't have the heart to tell him the room probably don't exist. Jed wouldn't believe me anyway. Instead, I play along. Don't correct him when he goes on about conspiracy theories. Don't try to argue presidential birth certificates. I just silently nod or shrug, whichever seems appropriate at the time.

And trying to talk him out of this particular task would take longer than to hike out there, find nothing, and come back. So I figure... humor him. We set out just after lunch. It's a tough walk from the jump and only gets harder. As night falls, we make camp.

“I can't wait to find it”, says Jed, eating a hot dog straight from the package. I decline the offer to share.

“What do you think you'll find?” I'm nothing if not curious.

“Anything. Everything. It gives you what you need most. Gives you money.”

“Money?”

“Yep. If that's what you need.”

Jed slips into his sleeping bag. “Don't worry, cousin. I'll split whatever we find. You and me, we're not gonna have nothing to worry about.”

* * * * *

“Carl!”

My eyes burn, adjusting to the morning sun. Jed dances like he's gotta piss. A level of glee I've never seen.

“I found it.”

Jed darts through the woods. I struggle to keep up. Finally, I see it. An old log cabin. Looks untouched for a hundred years. Looks vaguely like shit.

“This is it, I know it. We're gonna be rich.”

The cabin smells dusty. Broken windows. Decaying wood. To call where I'm standing the “living” room would carry a heavy load of irony. I try a door. The doorknob comes off in my hand, the wormy wood crumbles away. I nudge open the door. Nothing but an empty room.

The entire cabin's been explored. Every door opened. No sign of salvation. Jed's on the verge of tears, the dummy.

“It's here. Has to be.”

“Let's head back.”

I toss the doorknob. The sound it makes as it hits is the sound of hope. The sound of promise.

The sound of a hollow floor.

* * * * *

Jed scurries into the basement. It's fared the same as up top, only wetter. A couple windows at ground level let in a modicum of light. In the back --

A door.

Jed nearly trips over his own feet trying to get to it, the oaf.

“I found it. This is it. I knew I'd find it.”

He pulls on the doorknob. It doesn't give.

“People didn't believe I could find it. But I did.”

“Yeah, Jed. We sure did.”

“No!” Jed spins, hatred in his eyes. Spittle like buckshot from his mouth. “I found it. Not you. Me.”

I step back. Jed breathes like a wild animal. He heaves with all his strength. The door doesn't budge.

“You want me to help?”

Jed pushes me away. “No. You want to keep it for yourself. I need it.”

“Jed, I'm not gonna keep it, Christ.”

“It's mine!” I barely see the punch coming. But goddamn, I feel it. Splits my bottom lip in two. I stumble back, the taste of blood. Jed grunts and kicks at the door, a feral animal. Then I realize...

I'm standing in the secret room. Not on the other side of the door. This one. The door will never open. But it gives you what the fairytale promises.

It shines a light on who you really are. Exposes your inner self through desperation. To know who you are inside and what you're made of is what you need to live a perfect life. And Jed? Even the sweetest dog will fight you for a ham steak.

I chuckle. To me, the journey's over. I turn my back on Jed. On the door. I don't worry about the footsteps behind me. Don't consider the sound of a glass shard plucked from the floor. My head pulled back. Warm, wet liquid splashing down my chest.

It probably don't matter much. I know who I am, now.