This time Billy did not panic, though he was physically frozen in place, his mind was whirring with possibilities. Remembering the last time the Indian had appeared he focused his mind on a spot six feet away next to the Bronco suddenly there was a very brief violet flash and he was standing next to the Bronco watching the arrow fly through the space he had been previously standing and then disappear into the adjacent woods.
Looking to where the arrow had come from, the Indian was still standing there. He looked directly at Billy, smiled and gave a simple nod, as if he was giving his approval. As Billy watched, the Indian faded out of view like mist on the wind.
“Well aint that bizarre”, Billy was now pretty sure that he had relocated his physical body from one spot to another. But he really didn’t have an idea of how he had done it. Had he somehow willed himself to be someplace else? If so, could he repeat it? He focused on an area about 20 feet up the road and willed himself to be there. Nothing. He tried again. Nope. He physically clenched his body thinking that somehow the extra tension would strengthen his focus. Still nothing. Perhaps this only worked when he was under great stress or danger, remembering all the other times it had happened.
“But what about the Indian? Was he some kind of test or training? Was the Indian even real.” He remembered Joey’s comment about the Indian warrior, “Ask Mallory about the Indians?”
He walked over to the woods where the arrow had flown. To his surprise there was an arrow sticking from a tree. Examining it he could immediately tell that this was not some random arrow that someone might have been shooting and lost. This was not some mass produced product of current times. This arrow was old and hand made, the tip was made of sharpened stone, very similar to some of the fragments he had seen at the base of the cliff.
He pulled it out of the tree, expecting it to disappear in his hands and leave no trace like the splinter in his room earlier. But it didn’t, he continued to hold it for a few minutes just staring at it, as if it held some surreal meaning all by itself. But nothing changed, it appeared to be just an old Indian arrow. Finally he returned to the Bronco, took a small blanket from the back, wrapped the arrow in it and laid it in the cargo section of the vehicle.
He headed out on the road and after briefly stopping at the house to pick up his bag and say good bye to his mom he headed off for his apartment near the college.
Arriving at his apartment he tossed his duffel onto the sofa. He noticed the flashing light on his answering machine. Checking the display he saw there were only two messages on his machine. One was from a telemarketer which he deleted and the other was from Fred Higgins, his project partner.
He knew he had better get prepared for classes tomorrow but first he called Fred.
“Hey Billy. Glad you’re back did you see the information package from Professor Glaskine?”
“Not yet, I literally just walked through the door. It’s been a crazy week so I got back later than I originally planned.”
“You okay? We got a lot of work to do for Glaskine.”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Actually feel better than I’ve felt in a while. A little distracted maybe but otherwise fine.”
“Well let me give you the short version. You can read the package over in the morning when you’re fresh. We have four weeks to complete the project. That’s research, graphics, supporting documentation, and finished project. Also, no extensions or excuses, the deadline is the deadline. If you’re not done you turn in what you got for partial credit and maybe you’ll pass. Miss the deadline with nothing turned in and you fail for sure.”
“Wow! That seems extreme.”
“His closing line in the package was, ‘I don’t care whatever other commitments you think you have. Miss the deadline and you probably won’t recover. Welcome to the real world folks!’”
“Okay then. Let’s meet up late tomorrow afternoon in the library to map out our plan. We can get pizza after and then brainstorm where we need to focus first.”
“Sounds like a plan. See you around 3:00 then?”
“That should work. Later.” Billy hung up the phone. Picking up his mail and thumbing through it quickly he saw the package from Professor Glaskine, the usual junk mail, and another large envelope from Dr. Svengali. He opened the envelope from Svengali, Glaskine could wait until morning since he at least knew the basic context from Fred. Bad news, she was looking for the same level of commitment for his final project as Glaskine and this was a solo effort. Since he really only had these two classes plus one elective it should be manageable without too much pain. He had chosen a film appreciation class on the history of mythology in the movies for his final elective. He had figured it would be a cakewalk and an easy way to complete his course requirements so that he could focus on the other two.
After looking through his mail he started thinking again about Joey’s comment regarding the Indian, he decided to call Mallory. He dialed the number she had given him . The phone rang four times then, “Hi you’ve reached Mallory. We all know what these things are and how they work so at the tone go for it. Beeeep.”
Billy paused for a moment wondering what to say, then, “Hi Mallory. This is Billy Einkhorn I enjoyed meeting you the other day and wondered if you might be interested in getting together to talk some more next weekend. We could go to a local place I know for burgers and beer, my treat. I look forward to hearing back from you. You can reach me at 873-286-8085.” Billy put the handset down. He hoped he didn’t sound lame or worse, desperate, but he really wanted her to return his call.
The next day after completing his classes and meeting up with Fred he returned to his apartment to do some additional reading in the materials he had taken from the library. He was hoping that Mallory might have left a message but there were no blinks on the machine.
Tuesday and Wednesday flew by without any kind of incident. He had stopped at the market up the street to pick up some supplies for making chili, a good staple he could easily reheat instead of grabbing a bite out each night. The snack bar at school had good eats at lunch time but their supper offering was pitiful. It had been part of the reason he had spent some time learning to cook beyond basic or instant foods.
Coming up the stairs he heard growling as he approached the landing to his third floor apartment. Rounding the corner he saw the back of a man entering the open door to his place. Buddy was standing outside on the landing in a defensive posture focused inside the door. He heard a voice from inside, “Stop right there, don’t move”, it sounded like Ethan Gregor. Buddy curled his lips back and he began to growl, deep and long.
What was going on? Who is in Billy’s apartment? What is Buddy upset about and why is he even there? Find out next Monday…
Episode 12 – 6/30/21
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