Pleasant Valley

He picked up the pace over the broken concrete slabs that lifted randomly on the uprooted trees.  He saw the pink tiles of Loretta’s house, the right house.  He caught sight of her black terrier lying undauntedly at the bottom of the front steps and felt so relieved at the sight of the animal that he concluded the experience had all been a dream.  Yes, he had day dreamed the whole thing.  It had never happened.  Was he losing it?  Was his mind playing tricks on him?  He was about to go into the walkway by the side of the house when the inconceivable happened.  He reached out to snap his fingers at the dog and the animal suddenly grew.  His body elongated, his head enlarged, and his bottom took on a gigantic pear shape.  Nick stopped walking.  It was an involuntary movement, contrary to his thoughts.  He wanted to run out of sight for fear of harm, move quickly to the rear of the house.  But he couldn’t.  His legs would not go. He looked up past the dog and saw the sky turn suddenly pitch black with everything around him, as if the entire atmosphere had been invaded by darkness.  It wavered for a few seconds, the intensity of the darkness twinkling.  Then the animal picked up his muzzle and howled so loud that it brought Nick to his knees.  He slumped forward, dropping his instrument and covering his ears.  He looked down, terrorized by the mythical figure in front of him, expecting to be gulled up by the strange beast.  There was silence and he still did not dare look up but his peripheral vision caught a glimpse of light around him and he lifted his head up, slowly.  Everything was normal again.  It was an early evening in suburban Pleasant Valley with bright porch lights reflecting their glare onto the old sidewalks and pathways.  What had just happened?  Maybe it was a fatal vision, a gloomy glimpse of what was to come.

Loretta’s small terrier was playfully circling him, wagging his tail, and looking for a petting.  Barely recovered, Nick grabbed his organ and ran through the side of the house towards the back.  The basement trap door was partially open and there was light inside.  Nick went down the stairs quickly.  The first person he saw was John, sitting behind his drum kit.  He breathed a sigh of relief.  He was in the right place.

“So, you finally made it, ah?” Angel said from far away in the room, where Nick could not see him.

“Where have you been?” John asked.

“I went to . . .”

“We know,” Pete interrupted him, walking in from the rear of the room and wearing a broad, sadistic smile, with his guitar slung across him.

Nick’s heart began to pound again. As Pete got closer, he began shaking.

“You look pale as a ghost Nick.  Sit down before you pass out.”

Nick was looking down, afraid that another wave of darkness would overtake him again if he looked up.

“Let me call Loretta to bring you some soda.  You need something to drink, man.”

“No!”  Nick said quickly, looking up.

“I don’t want to see her face now, no.”

Suddenly, it happened again.  The light bulbs hanging from the basement ceiling shook and the light glimmered, as it would do during a storm.  The waves of pitch-black shadows swallowed up all trace of light and then there were only the figures of the other boys, hardly visible in such a dark setting.  Pete got closer to him and Nick saw his face evolve.  It wasn’t a fast evolvement as it had happened with the dog.  It was gradual and deliberate, as if somehow Pete had control of it.  His eyebrows elongated and curved.  His skin became ashy, as if he had just been raised from the dead.  His mouth stretched back to the cheeks in the wickedest smile Nick ever saw.  But worst of all were the eyes.  His eyes looked fiery green, shining intensively.