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+--- Thread: Don't go looking... (/Thread-Don-t-go-looking)
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Don't go looking... - Maxmars - 10-28-2024
[Author's note: This story takes as a prequel the story entitled We're just "Different." I have attempted to keep it self-consistent so as to make it stand alone, with limited success. I do plan a conclusion... unless you all tell me to give up on the idea.]
It was the day after the man had actually been there, witnessing what his daughter 'saw.' And he had struggled with exactly how to deal with it.
His daughter was not in a good place... It was a blessing that this was summer break, since she was a high school student with very few really 'good' friends, and a larger number of people he simply wished she wouldn't associate with. He didn't want her to attempt to 'socialize' about the experience. He had been there... and it was not a good prospect for her future to be associated with such things... not in this neck of the woods. She apparently hadn't slept well, (and neither had he.)
He knew she had understood him when he warned her against thinking there was someone she could talk to about "seeing a demon," as he was sure she would tell it. And since he had affirmed he had seen it as well, she was less inclined to panic about it. But that kind of relaxation could breed carelessness... and he had to bring home the lesson that "You should never actually go looking for these things."
He had learned long ago on his own... He shuddered to think of actually seeking these things out. He couldn't bear the thought of the damage such a thing might actually do to his daughter.
There was a popular movie and comic book series that had shocked him in a very specific way, it was called 'Hellbender', and - as usual with most 'entertainment fodder,' they weren't authoritative in their lore, but they had gotten at least one thing right... "When you see them... they see you." He was certain of that himself, and when the movie brought that into the plot line he had become very uncomfortable... but had said nothing at the time. But now... he had to talk about it to his daughter...
They were in the kitchen... her Mom was boiling up hot dogs and simmering beans for everyone... she called for help as he had chosen to open the new condiment jars, struggling with a stubborn relish jar... when she slipped away to grab a smoke outside, his daughter spoke up before he had a chance to, saying "How could Mom not have seen it! It was right there in the window looking in." He sighed and struck the jar against the counter... twisting, it opened with a 'pop' spitting relish particles onto the counter...
"I don't really know... but I for one am grateful." He reached out to the paper towel dispenser and yanked a towel comet... four or five squares long.. cursing, he rolled them back up and turned to her...
She added a new question... "Why would you be grateful? Does Mom even know you see things like that monster?"
He said "She knows, but we don't really talk about that. It makes her uncomfortable. I hoped you guys would never see things like that... I don't know if your little brother, or your sisters have, or even do. But now, I know you do, it's not just me. I have some things you need to hear, because I never found anyone to explain this to me... and I'm not sure that even the so-called 'experts' have a real clue about living with it." He made air quotes around experts.
"What? Not even our priest?" she was surprised (and he was happy that she thought of that as an option.)
"Normally, I would say that at almost anytime you should be able to go to your priest about things..." He checked the hot dogs, roiling in water, the beans needed a stir... He continued "But before you do anything, hear me out..."
"First off, what we saw was not imaginary. And it was not something we should ever want to see. Or try to see."
"You don't have to tell me that" she added.
"But even more important," he continued "whatever those things are, they are not to be pursued. I want you to know that deliberately looking for them, is a huge mistake."
"When you see them, they can suddenly see you." It's like a spotlight shining on you, and they seem to hate being seen. It's almost like they react to it as an attack."
"You mean like that movie "Constantine?" That was real?"
"No damnit!" he pressed, "Never, ever think that you can count on fiction to 'teach' you about this stuff!" They don't ever just "see" you, they actually target you... they react to being seen. Never believe that the stories you see or read are life lessons. There is no tattoo, no symbolic object, no artifact of magic to protect you from them... and they can and will attack if the opportunity is there."
He paused, questioning himself as he pondered if she could really understand what he was saying, or would it fall into the stereotypical "Wah, wah, wah..." adult talking... "wah, wah, wah"... message lost.
She interrupted him, "Um, I went outside to look and see if it left any tracks around the ground under the window."
He dropped the spoon he was stirring with... it sank into the simmering beans... "Shit!" he exclaimed harshly...
She had assumed it was about the spoon... and was surprised when he turned to her and grabbed her by the shoulders... "When?" he asked in an urgent tone.
She answered, "This morning. Just before you got out of the shower"...
"Shit, Shit, Shit!" he repeated...
He looked at her, released her shoulders, stepped back, pausing as his wife returned to the kitchen, she approach the stove asking, "Did you stir the beans?"
He knew well that his wife had instinctively understood that something was happening in here between him and their daughter... she intentionally broke the conversation they were having, injecting something mundane into it... to gauge it more clearly... clever girl. (She also knew that he was aware of the tactic, they knew each other very well... )
But their daughter assumed her mother was oblivious to the conversation, and was trapped by the impulse to talk about this to Mom... while remembering Dad's apparent resistance to the idea.
"Hey, where's my spoon?" the Mom asked... He responded, "It's at the bottom of the pot, boiling along with the beans..." She looked at him, smiled and said "Yum, stainless steelicious.!" "Yeah, sorry about that." he said.
The girl blurted out the question... "Mom didn't you see that thing in the window yesterday?"
He fell into the time warp of memory...
He remembered regretting telling her. They had been together for almost a year, and he knew she was not inclined to entertain this kind of topic. She could watch horror in entertainment, but if it was ever talked about as real... she would withdraw.
"You see these things?" she asked. And quickly tacked on... "I mean, what are you seeing exactly?"
He knew it had been a mistake; he had decided long before not to say anything about it to her, and then he had looked into her eyes and let loose.
"Well, not what we just saw in that movie, but something similar... just as scary. And I don't see them like Hollywood makes it seem. And it's not a frequent thing either." He felt like he might have to defend his sanity here... once again. He had learned that there was no 'sharing' this before, and the lesson apparently was overridden by her beautiful eyes.
Then she surprised him. "Tell me not to be afraid," she said. "Don't be. I'm not." That was his very first actual deliberate lie to her, and he vowed then and there to himself he would never lie to her again.
Explanations followed, some accounts, no two could be said to be alike.
He explained that he had seen them infrequently...
"You see a toucan... you see them at the zoo, maybe in a picture, a TV show... only every now and then... because they're not everywhere, not all the time... it's the same with me seeing 'stuff.' I've seen them in the day, in the rain, in a park, on the beach, at night,"... he was aware that he had paused there "... anytime, any place... and they don't always "do" anything..." (This was before he confirmed that they might "see him back." ) It was an awkward conversation, and he never voluntarily brought it up again...
Until last night, when he had to explain what had occurred so suddenly while they were in the bedroom, that he had seen a goat horned thing... actually ram horned would be more accurate. He said to her that would never had said anything to her, except their second-borne had seen it too. And he had to have a talk with her, since she was deeply shaken. The conversation was short, but he said he would handle it. She only asked "Should I be afraid?" He assured her... he would take care of it.
He spent the rest of the evening looking for something, anything that he could use... just in case. What he found was a pathetic thing.. that at least he could swing at someone to keep them at bay.
He had no guns, no knives, nothing that could really be called a weapon, and because his focus was elsewhere, he didn't fret over that fact. He never really needed a weapon. And with so many kids, he'd rather not have any around... too dangerous.
What he did have, however, 'had been a weapon' a one point. It was a World War II Japanese cavalry sword his father had "won" during an exchange somewhere in the Pacific theater. His father had been serving there, but was attacked suddenly by an officer separated from his unit. After the melee, my father kept the weapon... but hid it away in a box for the remainder of his life. His father was long deceased at this point... the sword was in a shameful state, the hasp was naked, a metal stump extending behind the blade. The other few remaining pieces of it were loosely affixed, the blade itself remained sharp, but whatever it was coated with had become almost shellac, making it difficult to withdraw from the old scabbard. "In a pinch, this must serve." he thought.
Returning to now, he thought just how bad things could be for his little girl
"I saw it." the daughter said to her mother... "Dad saw it too."
"I didn't see it." Mom said "I was doing a crossword, I didn't look up."
She busied herself fishing out the drowned spoon... "But listen to your father on this... I know he can help you." He felt his heart fill with love for her, grateful to have such a wife who trusted in him. After a few seconds, his wife was staring at him... called him by name... becoming concerned with the long pause...
"Uh right." Stumbling over is thoughts, "I never expected to have to talk to you about this... and if I have to talk to you about this, I'm going to have to talk to your sisters and brother about it too."
"Do you want me to keep it secret?" His daughter asked. An especially difficult question for him to answer, since he had always taught his children that secrets are weaknesses that only lead to lies. "And lies make people sick... one way or another" he added. "Tell the truth" he had told them each, "and you will always be freer than those who don't." Both of his older children already understood the nuance of "not lying."
"No I don't want you to lie, or keep it a secret from them... I just don't want you forgetting how if they really can't see they are safe... if you tell them about it they're gonna go looking... you know they will... just like you did, once you'd seen it."
She looked at her mother, who was focusing on the food... but must have been listening, she said "Listen to your father, he's been through this, if you must talk about it, talk to him." He couldn't help but add, "I only wish that I had someone to talk to about it when I first saw this stuff... When I tried, some people thought I was crazy, they started out all nice and listening, and later spread the idea that I was hallucinating. I don't want you to go through that."
"Who did you talk to?" she asked... this was a question of his past that he didn't want to revisit.
"Forget that for now... right now I want to tell you something... and this is important... it may sound stupid, or even crazy... but if you ever see something like that again, it can be useful to know."
He stopped and looked at his wife, who was expertly preparing to set the table. She glanced back and said to their daughter, interjecting "Later... for now pause this conversation..." she paused for a second and then proclaimed loudly "Dinner..., kids come eat!" They were interrupted by the cadence of little feet running down the hallway... He thought to himself. "This isn't a dinner conversation... but it can't really wait, not now that she went looking."
After dinner, the ritual of the cleaning up began.. and as the children were puttering about, his wife made a momentary space for them to talk... "I'm afraid now.... and I'm worried because I know you mean to handle this, but I need to know what you need me to do." "I need to know more - especially if you are going to have to talk to the kids about this.... I have to be there." He knew she was right. He knew she had to hear this stuff... stuff that she was brought up to 'reject as lunacy' and as a 'dangerous subject.' He felt safe that she would not openly judge him harshly, or even think to make this a 'problem' within the family. She loved him, and would tolerate him even if she could not support him. She was unaware of just how much he loved her for that.
After the ritual cleaning up, he and his wife retired to the room, his daughter followed... "What were you going to tell me?"
"I'm going to jump right into this..." he felt that his wife was waiting for this.. just as much as his daughter. But he really hadn't thought it through, how to say this without appearing to be talking idiot lunatic words... there was no escaping the problem.
"Imagine that whenever we think, or we feel someway and we dwell on that... a kind of 'smell' pools up around us... it's not really an odor... and we can't smell it.. but those things can. When they are seen, the smell that comes out of us is strong to them... they look for it... thinking "who is that?" They seem to get angry at being seen... like it is threatening to them. When you 'think' about them it does the same thing, but not so strongly... right now... if one of those things was around it would be hunting for the source... You went outside to look in the scrub under the window... and left 'signs' of the search right there... where we both know one had been. If he is lingering around... he will be back... he will get angry, and he will want to 'deal with' whoever that was.
"But..." his daughter interjected, and he waited patiently for the question which would follow.
She drifted off... and finally finished "...what will that thing do to us?"
"As of right now, today... and until forever more, absolutely nothing." he said with a firm conviction and confidence... "I stand in between them and all those I love..., you kids, your Mom, even our families, and most of our friends. Later, I will explain how and why that is so... but for now I will tell you something you must always remember... If you see something again, and it sees you and you feel like it's coming at you... think of me... tell it "you have to deal with my Dad first!" That will only make it angrier... and that's just fine... because I can deal with them - and they know that... and I get the feeling that they would rather not deal with me at all... I'm pretty sure of that..."
"I promise you that none of them can reach or hurt you - because you are protected. That is probably why it was so pissed at the window... it can't just 'come in' and screw around with any of us... we are protected... so try not to be afraid. But NEVER be bold and taunting... that might cause all kinds of trouble we don't want."
He didn't know it was already too late... He didn't realize what was already coming their way.
RE: Don't go looking... - UltraBudgie - 10-28-2024
Oh no you broke out the italics for a cliffhanger! Eagerly awaiting the next part! Great stuff!
Wait, will they know I read this story???
RE: Don't go looking... - Maxmars - 10-28-2024
(10-28-2024, 11:13 AM)UltraBudgie Wrote: Oh no you broke out the italics for a cliffhanger! Eagerly awaiting the next part! Great stuff!
Wait, will they know I read this story???
Mwahahaha.... it's all a trap! [evil grin]
You've hit upon one of the 'spookier' elements of this story... You're not safe even 'thinking' about it.
This is my first attempt at scary... if I were any good at it, people wouldn't read it at all.
RE: Don't go looking... - Quantum12 - 10-28-2024
You are gifted and Ned to writ a book!!!
RE: Don't go looking... - xpert11 - 10-29-2024
Maxmars, I watched Beatie Bow (1986), and parts of that film reminded me of your story. In that movie, the connections between generations and what a few people have the ability to see are shown. But your tale is far more compelling than that bit of Australian cinema.
RE: Don't go looking... - Maxmars - 10-29-2024
(10-29-2024, 04:04 AM)xpert11 Wrote: Maxmars, I watched Beatie Bow (1986), and parts of that film reminded me of your story. In that movie, the connections between generations and what a few people have the ability to see are shown. But your tale is far more compelling than that bit of Australian cinema.
Thank you for the kind comparison. I'm not well-exposed to Australian theater, so I don't know that story... When I think of Australia, I always first remember Farscape and Mad Max... typical American.
Part of me is a little disappointed that my idea was already explored... I will confess my intent was not to give a 'generational' element to this story. Personally, I don't care for that trope, I find it too 'exclusionary.'
Now I have to hunt down that 1986 movie, just to see where they took it... I doubt that will be easy given how media folks like to 'control' their products. If you find a link, please tell me.
The conclusion piece is still incubating... the tile might be predictable... but I'm not ready to say it yet.
RE: Don't go looking... - Encia22 - 10-29-2024
Please don’t stop, Max. The story is gripping and you left us hanging with your riveting final line; it needs a continuation.
I liked the interjections with the childhood flashback and the ‘reality’ moments whilst cooking, etc. They help break up the tension and draw us into the family’s world, yet they integrate well without distracting us from the gravity of the situation.
I’m intrigued by the old sword, I feel this may be important at some point, perhaps not as a physical weapon, but more symbolically, for want of a better term. Added to the fact that the father has the ability to repel/dissuade the dark entities from doing their dirty deeds, I almost get a ‘Jedi Knight’ tingle about this.
It’s terrifying how ‘they’ attach to people who notice them… Navajo Skin-walker style, but even scarier in your tale.
Finally, unless it was intentional on your part, in which case ignore what follows, I would have liked for the characters to have names. In my storytelling, I spend a lot of time selecting names; mainly for my own entertainment and sanity, as it helps me keep track of conversations and who’s who.
Keep it going, Max… looking forward to Part III.
RE: Don't go looking... - xpert11 - 10-29-2024
(10-29-2024, 06:31 AM)Maxmars Wrote: Part of me is a little disappointed that my idea was already explored...
You are exploring that or similar themes in a far more entertaining manner.
Now I have to hunt down that 1986 movie, just to see where they took it... I doubt that will be easy given how media folks like to 'control' their products. If you find a link, please tell me.
I found that film on Netflix's New Zealand arm.
RE: Don't go looking... - Maxmars - 10-29-2024
(10-29-2024, 06:33 AM)Encia22 Wrote: ...
Keep it going, Max… looking forward to Part III.
I have to confess, I found my deliberate exclusion of names to have been a mistake.
I wanted to experiment with that because it felt 'novel' (God! I hate that word) to me.
A sort of "I wonder if I can pull that off?" personal challenge.
In retrospect, it only makes a lengthier narrative more difficult to write...
I probably won't ever do that again.
In fact, if this were a single piece, I would likely go back and insert names to fill the voids left by their absence.
I re-read my work and always find faults and flaws... not being trained in writing makes this exercise similar to being a bit 'lost in the woods'... making it harder for myself was not a particularly good idea. DI is blessed with many true writers... and I am only fumbling around behind them... decisions like not using names shows that off.
I want to thank you for your kind feedback... It helps me greatly to assess my part in the telling of this story. These stories always make me feel like I am only the teller, that they would exists without me... that they write themselves... I'm just trying to do them justice (and often falling more or less short.)
(That old sword is a personal addition of my own, I later thought he could have found a hammer, a crowbar, or some repurposed tool... but the old sword was a kind of echo of my own life. It's not meant to be a standout component of the story... but if offers the potential call-back of something within the story itself: "There is no magic weapon.")
I'd best not elaborate now... part III is brewing... and the time for 'adding' ingredients has passed. Except maybe a little salt, or pepper.
RE: Don't go looking... - Encia22 - 10-29-2024
No foul at all, Max!
The exclusion of names can work and their absence doesn’t detract from the story one bit. I had no trouble keeping track of the characters. In fact, I’ve read many stories and seen movies where the protagonists’ names are the actual roles they play. Just look at how that was pulled off successfully in the film The Driver (1978)… Ryan O’Neal was simply “The Driver”. Every cast member was simply referred to by their role or defining physical feature.
So, in the end, my query was just to be clear that it was intentional.
And no, you’re not falling short in doing justice to the narrative. Your storytelling is sound and would appeal to a greater audience.
Well, even if the sword isn’t actively deployed, it is a great choice and much more original than a common tool; its history gives it character, something I always like doing, too; personifying inanimate objects gives them a profounder reason to exist.
