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