Portal Magazine
Volume 3 Issue 6
July 29th 2010
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Portal Magazine
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Vol. 3 Iss. 6
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Náin Dusk- Chapter 2- By: Tim Eagle Author's Note: If you are new to Náin Dusk, you can start by reading Chapter One here. After Chapter One, if you've missed a chapter they can be found here: Portal's Tomb on a drop down list. Down the “rabbit hole” Markus crept, slowly at first and cautiously. He’d been down there before, it was dark and the demure gave him mental goosebumps but it took him to his past and within a past full of secrets, death, and the possibility of sorrow hanging on every corner, he couldn’t refuse the inspiration. Markus wasn’t sure he wanted to go down the hole at this moment, he took a chance anyway, crawling until the light of memory, distant yet almost touchable wavered in front of him like a lunatic. He had to escape where he was, had to take the journey to gain motivation. He was writing and needed the past unfolded. So he leapt, took the chance and was being held by the obscure dark arms of his mind. *** Secrets abound, like flurries in the mind and soul, locked deep within the recesses of Markus core. He thought, he pondered, but most of all he was duped by the routines of life in the big city. He remembered the sullen sorrows that had been his life the moment his parent’s left this world. Markus was a courier for Beaumont Hospital Laboratory in Detroit. Routine pick-ups and deliveries were his game, driving around Detroit were the name. Markus got the call as he left a suburb north of the hospital and his heart hit the floor. He was scared by the cryptic message of the phone bank operator--- You should really come back to the lab. ---is all she had said. Markus knew people and the lady who had called him was not a joker, not a wise cracker, just a plane Jane down-to-business person, she was a black and white thinker, precise, and he knew that something had been wrong. He arrived at the lab, turned his keys and phone in, leaving just as quick as he arrived. Driving through Detroit was always stomach turning, always a new cancerous eye sore or dope house lined the streets and Markus cringed passing every displeasing facet. The smoke ahead billowed slowly like a tribe of indigenous people were sending signals to one another. It had been rising at where Markus’ parent’s lived. His heart leapt, tears filled his eyes and his mind began to race. As the blue and red lights dissuaded the dusk, the cool night of summer settled in-- Markus’ life changed for the darker. The sorrow, the breath, and his only genetic link left in the world--- Because Dad had kept us away from all the loonies ---was gone. Markus saw the mounded white sheets that covered the remains of his mother and father. He didn’t get out of the car, he tried not to cry, but the sobs came and his eyes dripped with liquid sadness. *** Markus hadn’t realized that a thick string of drool dribbled down his lips and onto his shirt and his eyes stung as if his tear ducts were dried wells. He sat up wiped the drool from his chin and lit a Camel. His computer bleated from behind him, indicating he had mail and he looked at the stack of papers lying next to his Royal typewriter. He did it; he had come back from the rabbit hole and had accomplished just what he set out to do. The email bleating from his computer seemed distant and just an annoyance like a mosquito trapped in his ear. He swiveled the chair he was sitting in and unplugged it. “Shut up.” Markus said. He wanted to relish, relish in the moment that he did something great, his agent would probably shit a brick, but enough of that, he had to tell Macey, had to tell someone. The house was calm and quiet except for the hum of the bedroom ceiling fan. Markus strolled quietly and had wanted to sneak up on Macey. He peeked through the doorway and she was angelically sleeping, a rerun on the television murmured softly in a set of ear phones she was wearing. Where would I be without you? Markus thought. He walked to his sleeping wife and kissed her gently. His news could wait. “Get the fuck out of here!” the voice was grumbling and old and it startled Markus from outside his bedroom window. It was loud and expletive but not so much to have wakened Macey from sleep. Markus looked out the window and saw Guy Cameron, his neighbor swooshing away four large Blue Jays from the cat food dish. The Blue Jays looked angry; their eyes slits in their faces and their beaks squawking, their feathers were bunched up. They looked like someone just robbed a nest of young ones. Guy Cameron stood his ground. Markus felt a rush of fear, fear for his neighbor, but most of all the irrational thought that the Blue Jays were ready to attack. Markus went outside to help.
© Tim Eagle 2010. All
Rights Reserved.
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