The Submerged: Chapter  2

By TurtleBoy

 

           The room was quiet; cast in a spray of shadows.  Evidence of the suns insistent attempts to fill the room was apparent.  An array of cotton towels hung neatly in sections aligned in near perfection across the panes of glass; as if they had been specifically tailored to fit these exact windows only allowing a gentle glow accompanied with a combination of abstract colors against the walls, only letting small lines of harsh rays from where they were divided.  The air conditioning had clicked in, sending a mild shiver throughout Alex’s sleepy body; slowly rubbing his eyes in order to remove any signs of the night’s remains, he then sat up from underneath the sheets.

 
            Everything appeared as strange, leaving a peculiar feeling of sadness which lingered in the back of his subconscious mind.  With little inspiration Alex opened his eyes, struggling to adjust to the days focus and the room’s contrast of colors; due to the towels stained glass effect which blurred in subtleness throughout the room in gentle waves caused by the flow of air from the vent below.  Alex realized just how gloomy the room actually was without the suns aid and it played heavily on his minds eye.  He tried to decide if it was all the works of his over-active imagination in cahoots with the conceptual colors that were floating around the room which was, in turn, causing this sudden feeling of apprehension.  However he was soon convinced that this could not be a farce construed of his very mind, but an uncanny heightening of his own common sense; there was definitely an ill setting vibe at play, feelings don’t usually include your sense of smell, but there it was a definite invasion to his nostrils; A kind of musky dampness, like someone had lifted a rotten piece of wood from its muddy bed where it had been sitting in a stasis of neglected piece for many years, which was sure to be simmering somewhere in his room not yet uncovered by his awakening sight

 
            Feeling partially nauseated, Alex decided to grab a shower in hopes that it would refresh his senses; with the hopes that this wasn’t how the rest of the day was going to play out.  In but a moments thought which had won him over, he decided it best to open a window and let in some fresh air so as to circulate this ghastly smell from his room.   Tossing the blankets off to the side of the bed and swinging his feet over the edge he felt his feet chill with a dampness like he had never felt before and continue to form into a suction that expelled a startling suction like sound which squashed into the floor and felt as if he were being sucked into a slimy void.  In sudden panic, Alex jumped back from this grotesque force that was leeching upon his sole, landing with a violent bounce on top his bed.  Just like it had been done in slow motion, several small spheres flew into the air with a gentle glistening transparency that travelled as far up as his eyes level then seemingly froze in mid air for what had seemed like an eternity, before ascending back toward the beckoning ground below.

 
“DAD!!!”  He screamed with a chilling tone of fear and panic.  “DAD!!!”  He yelled again, with a greater urgency; dissatisfied with his father’s poor response time he attempted once more feeling his patience escaping him, “DAD!!!”

 
            The room began to spin with the colors that flickered and danced against the walls, feeling his body fall into an immense state of consternation.  Yelling seemed to be doing nothing but as badly as he had wanted to, he just couldn’t bring himself to even peer over the side of his bed much less tread into that field of disgusting uncertainty once again.  Shadows in the room seemed to be spinning in all directions, dancing with a taunting nature almost unnaturally in a combination that joined with the colors; feeling his heart begin to beat over top of itself with an erratic, protruding thump-thump-thump. 

 
            Alex could have sworn someone else was lurking inside the room with him, but couldn’t tell due to his vision filmed over wit a hazy blur which offered no compromise.  His throat felt tight and swollen causing his lungs to feel deprived and sore, throbbing in the rhythm that was lead by his heart, in predicted certainty it had soon after robbed him of the ability to breath.  The room spun with obscure streaks of color and shadow, almost like a carousal that was gradually fading out its lights.   Hearing what could have been foot steps, only they were slow and drawn out, like someone was carefully stepping through a deep, sticky mud which drew you back even further than it would ever allow you move forward.  A muffled voice which echoed in Alex’s pounding skull, travelled in vibrations amongst the shadows being absorbed into its consuming darkness; only to be expelled in taunting whispers which funneled the room in a repetitive charade, seemingly mocking him.

 
“AH!!” Alex screamed for dear life while shouting desperately for someone to come to his rescue; kicking his legs frantically through the thickened air and whipping his head from side to side.


            Something had grabbed both sides of his arms but it was too late, there was nothing worth saving, nothing but blackened silence.

 
“Alex… Alex?”  A soft familiar voice called out, “Alex wake up… I’m not angry.” Said the voice as it grew even more recognizable.  Forcing his eye lids to separate and open far too quickly, Alex felt a sudden sharp sting of light igniting his retina and quickly cowered underneath a pillow until the burning subsided.

 
“What happened?”  Alex heard himself say, while slowly opening his eyes and followed the confused spots which travelled past his vision.

 
“You must have left the tap on last night.” The voice had sad, which Alex now knew to be his fathers, “You flooded your room while you slept… and pretty good too.”

 
“But I don’t remember going to the bathroom.”  Alex promised defensively.

 
“It’s okay.  It was an ugly carpet anyway.. I was going to replace it at some point down the road… maybe a bit sooner than I had thought, but it’s only a carpet.”  Bruce assured his son while gently running his fingers through Alex’s hair and picking out small fragments of who knows what.

 
            Feeling sufficiently sturdy once again Alex sat up and rested his chin on his elbows, cocking his head to the right then squinting his eyes and wrinkly his nose curiously, “So… The room was flooded?  It felt different than that.”

 
“Well yea… what did you think it felt like?”  Bruce asked, repositioning himself on the bed and looked towards his son in interest.

 
“It’s hard to explain exactly…”  Alex replied in an obvious struggle, “It was kind of like stepping in lumpy gravy or something.”

 
“Lumpy gravy?”  Bruce felt a smile taking over his face, forcing his cheeks against his eyelids.

 
“Oh shut up!” Demanded Alex, through an embarrassing giggle and slapped his fathers arm.

 
“Hey! Not my fault!”  Bruce shouted, bouncing defensively away then stood up and squished his way over to the end of the bed, “Let’s just forget about lumpy gravy and get out of this room while we figure out how to clean all this up.”  He danced his feet up and down a few times, noticing the strange suction like feeling. “Wow, the underlay really soaked up a lot of water… kinda like a sponge.  Guess that’s how it didn’t get out of the room and down the stairs.”  He decided.

 
            Watching as he carefully squished his way out of the room Alex gathered his thoughts and tucked them aside for the time being.  Sitting up and looking around the room with disbelief; the water really had consumed the carpet, but not a drop had managed to leak past the door frame.  Turning himself once more and gritting down on his teeth he closed his eyes tight and prepared himself for the nasty coolness which was about to consume his feet once again.  Tapping the balls of his feet down cautiously, watching the tiny circular droplets transcend and immerge themselves back into the holds of the all consuming carpet Alex awkwardly balanced himself out of the room with the attempted grace of a ballerina performing on a type rope.  With an excited leap he kicked his legs into the air and jumped the last few feet out of the room into the hall way.  With one last look at the chaos, Alex felt his jaw drop in a sudden terror of disbelief.  The mold had grown back!  On the same wall that he had just cleaned the previous night, only this time he was almost positive it had spread to almost twice the size of its original form.

 
            Running down the stairs as quickly as he could, skipping steps two or three at a time; soaked socks met finished wooden floors and Alex found himself sliding across the foyer directly into a wall.  Regaining his balance and his startled minds cooperation he rushed into the kitchen where his Dad had started mixing up waffle batter over the counter.  “Hey Dad… the mold came back.”  Alex blurted, half winded and half distracted by his blue and pink flowery apron that was loosely tied around his fathers waist.


“Mold?  What mold?  What do you mean?”  Bruce replied while started up the handheld electric mixer and watching the beaters spin swiftly round and round, “Ever wonder how these little guys don’t crash into each other?”  He pointed to the spinning blades, almost seriously.


            With an odd look and a partial smirk Alex dismissed that last question, “No, You know… the mold that I scrubbed off the wall yesterday?  It grew back over night.” he explained in a mixed emotion of fear and fascination.

 
            Bruce on the other hand was more fascinated with the mixers that he was using and seemed to be contemplating poking the blades as they turned (judging by the finger that seemed to be getting closer and closer by the second) “Oh… uh, did you use bleach?”  He asked and suddenly spun the metal bowl that he was mixing with and watched as that spun to a halt.


“Cut it out.”  Alex tried not to smile, “This could be serious!”  His attempts to warn his father didn’t seem to take… his attention as it would seem just didn’t feel the need for focus. “And yes, I scrubbed the hell out of it yesterday.  Put in maybe three caps of bleach and really hot water, I thought my fingers were gonna melt.”

 
“Maybe you didn’t use enough bleach, or… I dunno, maybeeee all the water you fed into the carpet caused it to re-spore.”  Bruce was more than satisfied with this explanation, especially as he was now scooping the batter into the waffle grill and inhaling the steam as it was creating.


“Maybe… But overnight?  That seems a bit too fast.”  Alex tried to convince his passive reasoning, “Remember?  You saw me going upstairs with the bucket.”

 
“Oh right, the astronaut.”  Bruce chuckled and leaned himself against the counter and folding his legs and arms at the same time. “I don’t know what you want me to say Alex, maybe we’ve got super mold.”

 
            Bruce’s humor didn’t amuse Alex at all; it was actually quite insulting, like a direct attack against the boys wits. With a heavy sigh Alex felt himself give up to the hopeless battle, “Never mind… I’ll just scrub it out again later on when my room’s dried up.”  I decided.

 
“Good plan, guess we’re gonna need to find a shop-Vac or something to clean that up.  I don’t think we’ll be able to carry it down filled with all that water; not to mention all the mess it’ll make.”  Bruce looked as if he had just sat on a nail, his eyes bulged and his mouth shot open; all of which was just to turn around and snatch the two golden waffles out of the folding grills. “Here, dig in Squirt.”  Alex could see his fathers smile increase rapidly at the dirty look he was giving to his dad which of course, played no affect what so ever.

 
“Shop-Vac?  We probably need a pump for that mess.”  Alex said jokingly and then accepted the plate he was being offered and rapidly smeared a glob of quickly melting butter across its sunken in surface.

 
            After breakfast Bruce and Alex ran out to grab a cheap Wet-Vac, which was apparently what we needed according to the sales clerk.  They weren’t in the store very long, but Alex was certain that they were black listed there as well; the way the sales reps would roll their eyes at every single unnecessary question that Bruce had come up with.  It had turned into a favorite game of his; eventually he had planned out the ability to shop for something without the staff harassing his every move and gesture.  In his mind he found it extremely annoying, however in Alex’s mind, his father seemed to really need the added help.

 
            With no effort at all, the vacuum sucked the water up from the carpet like it was nothing.  The only problem being was the bucket wasn’t very large, so Alex had to keep running into the bathroom in order to dump its slimy contents every couple of minutes. Alex really wished his dad had splurged that extra twenty bucks and grabbed the more industrial sized one with the huge cylinder bucket on it.  When he had questioned this back at the store Bruce replied, “Why pay more for something we’re rarely going to use.”  Alex figured that he could be right, at the time; but now… now it just seemed cheap and unwise.  Besides that little downside the job was getting done and faster than they had both originally thought it would.

 
            Hauling all the furniture out into the hallway and carefully removing the rooms base boards; they rolled up the still dripping carpet and prepared themselves for a dangerous trip down the stairs.  The smell of the soaked carpet after it had been lifted was vile and dingy.  It gave Alex’s throat a burning sensation, this sore retching feeling like he was going to throw up.  Mildew or mold and who knows what other fungi’s had managed to fester and grow through out the night, hiding itself somewhere in the underlay and waiting for the unsuspecting Ziegler’s to fester up its spores of doom.

 
“Okay, now pivot Alex… PIVOT!”

 
“Pivot?  How am I supposed to know what you mean by that?”  Alex scolded back at his father; the invasive look of fear was evident in Bruce’s eyes as he held the dripping front end of the carpet already halfway down the stairs.  His initial plan was to lower it over the banister, but that idea was voided the moment that they had left the room and realized the angle just wouldn’t allow for this to happen.  They were going to have to somehow bend the carpet into a ‘U’ shape and snake it around the corner.

 
“Alright, I’m sorry… turn it to your left a little… yea like that.. lift up.. NO wait!”  Alex heard a squeak and felt the taunting roll of spongy carpet threatening to tug away from his grip.

 
“Stop, stop… stop..” screamed Bruce, “*shew* I felt my kidney’s flinch on that one.”

 
“You okay Dad?”  Alex asked trying to hold back a giggle; after all, this was a serious situation.

 
“Yea I’m good… let’s try again.”  Bruce took a step down the stairs watching the carpet graze up against the paint and shred apart the walls of the landing. “Shoot.. now we’re gonna have to paint the hall too.”

 
            Alex’s muscles were beginning to feel like jelly as they had begun to tremble and shake due to the prolonged activity that they hadn’t been designed to do, “Dad… I hate to complain, but this is starting to get really heavy… and you’ve left a puddle all over the place, I’m afraid to go down these stairs.”

 
“Shoot… You’re not even on the stairs yet?”  Was Bruce’s only reply.

 
“No, I’m just getting onto the first step.”  Alex yelled; stretching out his neck so that he could reply to the top of his Dad’s head which was poking out from around the other side of the curved rail half way down the stairs.

 
“Your room’s bigger than I thought.”  Bruce huffed in exhaustion, “Come one, let’s get the over with.  On the count of three I’m going to pull, just try not to fall, don’t worry about dropping the carpet… One…      Two….”

 
“No Dad, WAIT!”  Alex panicked, as the fear of being dragged down the stairs with the carpet burdened over him with an instant flash in his mind reminding him of possible death.

 
“…Three!”  Bruce yelled, Alex screamed.  Jumping back and somehow forward at the same time, the heavy carpet thudded down the stairs with a sloppy splash on each soggy crash against the wood.

 
“Hey Dad… Couldn’t we have just dropped it out of a window?  I mean.. Nothing’s out there really.”

 
            Alex saw his fathers face flush to a shade of crimson that wasn’t quite expected;  not being sure if it was exhaustion, humiliation, both or even none Alex kind of just waited for Bruce to say something.

 
“…well, wish you could have thought of that twenty minutes ago.”  Bruce looked up with a brief smile than wiped the sweat off of his forehead and then grabbed the carpet once more. “Let’s get this out of here, we’re almost there.”  He turned and opened the front door, while Alex repositioned himself on the hopefully sturdy landing.

 
“Ready?”  Alex inquired, still a little unsure if even he himself was ready.

 
“Yea.. As much as I’ll ever be.. Let’s go!”  Said Bruce as an unintentional growl gurgled from the base of his throat and echoed shamelessly through out the foyer; Bruce then stuck his foot over the capping of the last stair and heaved his self and the carpet backwards while Alex pushed cautiously forward.  Hearing a squeak below his feet Alex noticed the carpet coming towards his face at an alarming pace.  He tried to move, but a strange weightlessness overwhelmed him entirely; hearing the carpet thumping down the stairs as Alex’s world bounced in a sudden synchronization with the carpet; a sudden yelp from his fathers panic, as he watched his son spin and somehow end up at his feet.  “Alex! Are you alright?”  Alex heard his father ask abruptly.

 
“Uh… I think.”  The confused feeling began to fade as Alex looked at his new surrounding of the downstairs, then blinked back to the carpet which was three stairs from the bottom.   He was soaked right through and his knees and stomach were stinging, “That was different.”

 
“On the bright side, you got the beast almost all the way down.  Well done Squirt.”  Bruce congratulated Alex as he admired his job well done.

 
“I aim to please.”  Alex smiled while rolling onto his stomach and pushing himself back up to his feet.  Alex looked back at the stairs and down at the carpet, finally working out that it was him that had fallen and not the carpet that had flown; which would have been much more ideal, but the timing was a little off.

 
            The two of them were finally out the door and words could not describe how much of a relief it was to have this job jobbed.  Instead of dragging the beast to the street, they took advantage of the slopping yard and dropped it from the porch, watching it roll and splatter to a gradual halt about five feet from the street.

 
“Woah dude!  You guys have a party and I wasn’t invited? I’m offended.” Suddenly blurted a voice, which Alex recognized to belong to Harvey; he was peering over the side of the porch from the grass below looking intrigued with our former activity.

 
“Oh, hey Harvey.  How long you been standing there?”  Alex asked curiously.

 
“Just got here, think my timing was pretty good too.” He chuckled, while dragging himself upward onto the porch and stood next to them.

 
“It would have been better about twenty minutes ago.”  Bruce suddenly added, surprising Alex a little, due to temporarily forgetting his father’s presence beside him.

 
“Oh… Dad, this is Harvey.  I met him at the beach last night.”  Alex explained, trying not to make it sound like an introductory.

 
“Hey Harvey, I’m Mr. Zieglar, pleased to meet you.”  Bruce offered his hand in a friendly gesture, Harvey accepted with a slap to the palm followed by a strange knuckle bump.

 
“Likewise Mr. Z.”  Harvey smiled cheekily; noting the lost glare Mr. Ziegler had given him, like his own hand had betrayed him somehow.  Harvey then looked at the carpet at the end of the yard and back at us with a raised eyebrow.  “So what’s the story with the rug?”

 
“Oh, yea…  My room flooded last night while I was sleeping.”  Alex explained as if it was a normal occurance.

 
“Yea, the dufus forgot to turn off the taps.”  Added Bruce.

 
“Haha, sweet.  Good going Squirt.”  Winked Harvey mischievously.

 
            Alex noticed his Dads eyes seemed to twinkle at the word Harvey had chosen to use and could see in the expression on his fathers face that he was about to conjure up some form of insult, “Not a word Dad!  And YOU!”  Alex screamed as if he was furious, “I told you not to call me that!”  Reminded Alex, in a demanding tone; taunting Harvey with his elbow.

 
“Okay, okay… Sorry Alex… really.”  Harvey pleaded with his hands drawn in front of him, in an attempt to keep Alex from elbowing him again.

 
“Forgiven.”  Alex replied with a grin and attempted to blow at the tip of his elbow as if it were the smoking barrel of a recently fired gun.

 
            Bruce seemed to stir a little as a look of impatience snuck up on his restless face, “Well boys, I gotta go pick out a new carpet and see when it can be put in.  Good meeting you Harvey.”  He waved then dipped inside the house for his car keys.

 
“Get something good!”  Alex demanded in hope.

 
“I’ll see what I can do,” He replied with a smile, hopping down the steps toward the garage.

 
“Hey! What kind of car did you get?  I didn’t have a chance to see it yet.”  Alex remembered suddenly.

 
“Uh… A black Escalade EXT.”  He replied.

 
“Nice…A Cadi.” Harvey nodded his head in approval.

 
“Sweet.”  Alex formed a smile of pride.  “Guess Dad’s tastes were always diluted by mom’s common sense.”

 
            The truck pulled out of the driveway just before Alex could head inside the house, “Alex!”  Bruce yelled out of the window, “Can you try and scoop up that underlay and give the room a mopping while I’m gone?  I don’t want the floor to get ruined more than it already is.”

 
“Uhg… Yea, sure thing.”  Alex replied quietly with a lifeless wave.


“Thanks Squirt, I’ll be back shortly.” Bruce assured Alex, while returning to the task at hand and reversing out onto the street.

 
“Coming in?”  Alex offered to Harvey.

 
            Harvey looked briefly puzzled, like he had been torn from review of a deepened thought. “Huh?  Oh, yea sure… thanks.”

 
            As they got inside Harvey looked over the house, in what Alex had hoped was a sign of approval, but instead he remained silent as he slowly absorbed his surroundings; Alex found it hard to build and impression of his thoughts due to the blank stare untainted with emotion.  It was strange; Alex hadn’t taken him for the quiet type.

 
“So ummm…” started Alex, unsure of what to say, “you uh… seem quiet.”


“Oh, yea… sorry.  Your house is just built weird that’s all.”  Replied Harvey as if Alex hadn’t realized this fact.

 
“Yea I know.  But it’s cool, much better than the place we had in New York.” Explained Alex.

 
“Oh yea?  You’re from New York?”  Harvey returned with a surprised look on his face.
 

“Yea, but it’s not as cool as it sounds.”  Alex assured his friend.


“Yea right, that’s not what I’ve heard.  New York is where it’s at man, the Big Apple!  Why the hell would you move here?”  Harvey thought out loud.

 
“Long story.  The short version is… Dad needed a new start after Mom died.”

 
“Oh…” Harvey looked down to the deep red hard wood floor beneath his feet, “Sorry man, I didn’t realize.”

 
“It’s cool you didn’t know.  It happened over a year ago, it’s not like it just happened yesterday.”  Alex explained, trying to reassure Harvey that no bad memories had been forced to the surface, thus far.

 
“I should have guessed though.  This place isn’t exactly filled with the influence of a woman.”  Said Harvey looking over around the empty foyer in which they were standing and then into the living room which was furnished with black leather couches, loud looking speakers and a massive television.

 
“Hehe” Giggled Alex, realizing Harvey was right, “Weird, I hadn’t noticed that before.  My Mom would have had a throw rug and a single white couch probably facing the fireplace.”

 
“Yea… What’s up with that?  Your fireplace is in the middle of the room.”  Harvey pointed out with confusion.

 
“Dunno, guess it’s to separate the rooms or something.”  Shrugged Alex, casually.

 
“Could be, it works kind of… wait… why the hell are we talking about your house’s layout?  That’s like the gayest thing ever.”   Alex wasn’t sure why, but the cold, sarcastic tone in Harvey’s voice when he spoke those words had managed to offend him somehow.

 
“Dunno,” Alex shrugged again, with a trace of irritability, “I’ve got to get rid of that underlay in my room, you don’t have to help… but you can come get in the way if you want.”  He offered politely.

 
“Sure, I’m good at getting in the way.”  Snickered Harvey and then followed Alex towards the stairs.

 
            Alex grabbed the shovel and trash can that his father had left in the hall just outside of his room for the clean up, while Harvey explored the upstairs curiously opening every door that he passed just as Alex had done the other day.  With a deep sigh, Alex stared at his once again empty bedroom and from the doorway took his first scoop of the blue, water-filled underlay.  Its consistency felt just like a rubbery sponge that had been filled with Jell-o, but separated from the sub floor without a problem.


“Dude,” Began Harvey as he peered into the bedroom where Alex was working, “Your house is built like one of those old country homes.  Kinda like it was just moved here from somewhere else.  But everything looks like it was just built at the same time.  So weird.”

 
            Alex smiled at Harvey’s comments; he himself had noticed the same thing.  This house was definitely inspired by an old country homestead.  The layout was old fashioned yet tasteful, but the location just seemed to contrast.  Most knew homes in California were more luring to the eye, but contradicted their modern look by blending in with other modern styled home.  On this street with this particular setting, the Ziegler house was the house that stuck in a persons mind simmering questions of curiosity. 
 

“Yea, it’s a bit big for just me and Dad, but I like it.”  Replied Alex, as he scooped another bulging mound of underlay onto the shovel and attempted to dump it in the near overflowing bin beside him.  “Shoot.. where am I gonna dump this?”

 
“I think there’s a bin out back.” Answered Harvey.

 
“I don’t think so; it looks like our yard attaches to another yard.”  Thought Alex, trying to remember if he had seen it or not.


“I’m pretty sure it doesn’t.”  Assured Harvey with certainty.

 
“Well, I guess we can give it a look.”

 
            As it turned out, there was a narrow passage in between ending fences.  It was a bit of a walk, maybe a blocks worth of a stretch; as the tall fences began to spread out further from each other in what started as a four foot path soon widened to a ten foot path as the houses miscellaneous properties curved away from one another.  There was a circular cove, with a border of tall fences lined was a cluster of large garbage bins spaced out about ten feet from one another; three on each side and six all together.  The semi-circle in which they were now standing led to an ally, just big enough for a garbage truck to squeeze through that than lead right onto Del Monte Avenue.  Harvey helped Alex lift the trash can and dump it into the oversized bin, then they raced back towards the rear of the yard where they had originated, with Harvey winning by a long shot due to the unfair disadvantage of the trash can that Alex was totting in behind him.

 
            It had taken four more repetitive trips to and from the trash bins out back, before Alex was finally finished.  Harvey had made an excellent critic, supervising Alex’s every action; even mopping the floor turned into a charade filled of humor for Harvey to play with.

 
“Dude, check out this splotch on your wall.  It almost looks like a face.  What is it?”  Harvey was crouched in front of the wall opposite the side window, where the dark green fungi was still invading Alex’s room.

 
“It’s mold… I think.”  Alex replied, glancing over towards the wall where Harvey was now poking at the mysterious shape in front of him. Alex’s eyes widened with surprise, “Holy crap!  It grew again!”  Alex pointed out.

 
“You should really get rid of this, I heard the darker the mold the worse it is for you.”  Harvey explained trying to be helpful.

 
“I did!  I washed it off yesterday.”  Alex explained in a defensive manner.

 
“You must not have done a good job… it looks like you’ve barely touched it.”  Harvey teased pressing his pointer finger, with a look of disgust on his face, into the fuzzy spores that were growing away from the wall.

 
“I did too!  There was nothing there when I went to bed, it grew back overnight.”

 
“I don’t think that’s possible, maybe you dreamt it.” Figured Harvey while he pushed himself away from the wall and slowly climbed back to his feet.

 
“I swear to god I did, it must be inside the wall or something.”  Decided Alex, “Anyway, you wanna help me drag me stuff back into the room?”


“Yea sure, guess I could do that.”  Harvey smiled, thinking of how helpful he had already been.  The two boys quickly dragged Alex’s things back from the Den, back into Alex’s room.  Upon completion Harvey dropped himself backwards onto the bed as if he had been working for hours he released a hearty sigh and looked up at Alex who was smiling awkwardly in his direction.


“Tough day huh.”  Laughed Alex mockingly.

 
“No doubt, I’m pooped.”  Harvey chuckled briefly, then turned his attention back to the mold on the wall, “You know, I’m surprised they even built these places here.  It’s just asking for trouble if you ask me.”
 

            Alex looked at Harvey with confusion, “Why?”

 
“You haven’t heard the story yet?”  Harvey returned with amazement.

 
“What story?”  Alex questioned with even more confusion, now inspired with curiosity.

 
“Guess that’s a no.. Anyway, I’m not the greatest story teller, but you’ll get the basics.”  Harvey stopped briefly, while Alex jumped on the bed with a childish energy crossed his legs and wrapped his arms around his knees bringing them close to his chest and chin.  “Anyway…”  Harvey raised an eyebrow at Alex and then shifted himself to face him, “Way back when… I’m not sure of the year, like I said I suck at story telling.  But there was this boat that was carrying a bunch of convicts that were being transported for some reason to Mexico.  Anyway… When it was passing Monterey Bay, it caught fire and they tried to dock at the Harbor.  But the groundskeeper wouldn’t let them in, he was afraid the other boats would catch fire and he’d loose his job or something.  So when they didn’t turn back, the guy… the groundskeeper that is, started to shoot at the boat, and his buddies joined in and helped him shoot at the boat.  Eventually the ship turned around to try something else, but by than the whole thing was in flames and ended up sinking.  Everyone died… or I think everyone died.  They never found the boat, except small pieces that washed up on the beach carrying burnt up and bloated bodies.  Which just happens to be right on the beach where all these houses are, up until recently there was a ban against building anything here… superstition or something.  But that’s not the best part, ever since than weird things have been happening in Monterey…”

 
“Like what?”  Alex blurted out, trying to keep up with the fragmented fairy tale being told to him.

 
“Like paranormal stuff.  Things disappearing or moving around… uh… whispers on the beach, all sorts of stuff.”  Harvey stopped, looked up to the ceiling in thought as if he had forgotten something, “Yea… that’s all I can think of.”


“I don’t think I believe in ghosts… I mean, all those things happen everywhere… missing socks, misplacing crap and finding it in weird places, it’s all normal.  Whispers on the beach?  Well that could be the stupid crickets, or even the waves.”  Alex tried to conjure reasonable explanations which had seemed to be valid.

 
“Believe what you want.  Eventually you’ll believe me.  Monterey’s haunted, simple as that.”  Harvey said in an unusually serious manner.

 
“So everyone else gets whispering beaches and floating objects and all I get is magical mold?  That’s a rip!”  Alex giggled, trying to lighten the atmosphere in the room.  Harvey didn’t pull off seriousness all too well; it was actually kind of creepy, even unnatural.

 
            Harvey shrugged dismissively, “Don’t ask me bud, the world works in mysterious ways…  If you ask me though, this mold you’ve got going on is far more interesting than anything else I’ve seen.”

 
            Alex remaining skeptical rolled off the bed and glanced over at the mold, “If you ask me it’s all just a stupid fungus that is a result of being so close to so much moisture.  Everything you’ve said can be explained and proven otherwise.”

 
“Sure… but it can’t exactly be proven against belief.  There’s always a bit of mystery to everything scientific.”  Harvey retaliated trying to pass himself off as intellectual.

 
“Hey… isn’t today Friday?” Asked Alex.

 
“Yea why?”

 
“There’s no school today?” Alex answered with a question, realizing Harvey wasn’t in school.

 
“Oh… Yea, I got suspended, and then grounded.”  He giggled, looking around Alex’s room, which was obviously not where he was supposed to be.

 
“Wow, so uh… You seem to have a natural magnet for trouble.”  Alex decided.

 
“Yea… I guess.  I’ve been on suspension all week, how was I supposed to know that the spray paint canisters that I wired to the principal’s car battery would explode before I could get away.”  I reminiscent smile crossed his face, with a hint of amusement.

 
“Uh huh… That was smart.”  Alex sat back down on his bed and grinned sarcastically at Harvey.
 

“Shut up, it was one of those – it-seemed-like-a-good-idea-at-the-time moments.”  Harvey began to chuckle again as the picture of the multicolored Volvo engine burned into his brain in crystal clarity. “Anyway, I should get outta here. Gotta make it home before the parents get back… I’m off punishment tomorrow.  Say, you wanna come with me up to the Mall tomorrow?  I’m meeting some friends for a movie.”


            Alex didn’t even feel the need to think, “Sure, sounds like fun. Uh… should I meet you there or what?”

 
“I’ll come getcha, wouldn’t want you to get lost on your first real outing.”  Replied Harvey with a smile. “We’ll go pick up my buddy Matt on the way, and head off to the Del Monte Center, it’s not huge, but it’s acceptable – not to mention close as hell from here.

 
“Sounds fun.”  Alex said and then he jumped to his feet to show Harvey to the door, just like a good host should.

 
            Harvey left after a few demented jokes, in a failed attempt to be funny.  Alex watched as his friend bounced down the thick black slabs of stairs to the sidewalk which leads to the beach where he vanished into the bordering trees.

 
            Closing the door behind him, Alex decided that his room had to be dry enough by now and grabbed the bucket he had used the night before so he could once again tackle the infestation on his bedroom wall; this time using twice the amount of bleach and half the amount of protection.

 
            First soaking the wall with a generous squeeze of steaming liquid, Alex watched the mold melt before his very eyes.  It seemed to shrivel and turn to a strange slimy dark liquid that trickled down to the floor in a random mess of browns and greens.  Rinsing the sponge and wringing it out, Alex smeared the sponge firmly into the wall, spreading the mold in every direction.  The stuff was harder to clean off this time, almost like it had gripped itself with unseen fingers right into the wall; Alex found himself wondering if this stuff had rooted itself right through to the other side of the dry wall.  Its texture didn’t seem dense enough to have the structural strength to do such a thing, but as Harvey had told him earlier, ‘there’s always a bit of mystery behind everything scientific.’

 
            Feeling a raw tingling sensation in his fingers as his shoulders and arms began to burn; Alex felt that he had finally scrubbed well enough so that it wouldn’t return again.  Staring expectantly into the cleaned wall in front of him, the world began to spin at an alarming speed.  Alex felt his heart beating heavily in his throat and that same feeling of suffocation returned to him as it had done earlier.  After bracing his hands to the wall and straightening his back to clear his air way, the room slowly returned to the solid form it was supposed to be, “Guess I used a bit too much bleach.” Alex had decided vocally. 

 
            Leaning back and sitting on his heels, he noticed the sun was beginning to fall and the room was slowly becoming dim and eerie.  Shadows slowly scattered and stretched across the walls, creaking of floor boards and the furnace was all he could hear.  Blinking curiously, like trying to clear a blurry vision, Alex saw what, at the time, had looked like someone walking in behind him.  In a fright he twisted his body frantically and pressed his back up against the drying wall now behind him.  Alex examined the room in the manner that a father would examine a piece of food after it had fallen on the floor, trying to decide if it was still good to eat or not.  The walls looked as if they had a life of their own crawling up and down the walls, but not once did these obscurities touch, or even go near the brightened ceiling as if it would be their own demise.  Whispers seemed to circulate throughout the room, just like an oscillating fan, Alex couldn’t find the courage to move or even breath.  Something seemed to be holding him against the wall, almost like it was pulling him in, silently, deeper into its grasp.   Closing his eyes, he found the courage to scream.


            The room was bright and warm, the entire house was quiet and the floor he was laying on was rough and damp.  Opening his eyes with a gentle flutter of lashes, his hand was stretched out before him still wearing a red rubber glove, still holding the bleach-yellowed sponge tightly clutched in the palm of his hand.  Pushing himself up slowly feeling the aches that had been blessed upon him from the consequence of passing out on the hard floor.  He turned to the wall in which he had been cleaning.  With confusion once again flooding throughout his head, he could have sworn that he head just cleaned that wall; instead, before him it had seemed to have grown during his sudden nap.  He looked at the blinking clock that he was yet to be set, disappointed that he couldn’t know the time; had the night somehow, already come and gone?  Or had he actually managed to pass out while washing the wall… and did that mean that it was all a dream?

 
            Dipping his hand into the water beside him to soak the sponge, the water was still fairly hot.  Which Alex had taken as an obvious sign that told him, he should really take it easy on the bleach next time.  In a dismissive relief Alex wrung out the sponge once more and scrubbed the wall down to nothing once again.

 
            Dumping the second pail of soiled liquid into his toilet and flushing twice, just to be sure, Alex placed the bucket under his sink just incase the mold grew back again.  Walking into his room, he noticed that the sun was (and for sure this time) setting from the sky.  Crossing his room to go grab a bite to eat in the kitchen, a crackling sound accompanied by something that could have easily been mistaken for a wet rope being stretched and strained, his sight was instinctively guided to his bedroom wall where the mold had already begun to weave its was across the wall, the same wall that had just been cleaned once again.  Spreading out in a vine like manner almost like the roots of a tree, but close to the shape of a star, in the all too familiar feeling of disbelief Alex watched the fungus grow before his very eyes, maybe he had placed judgment on Harvey’s story too quickly, maybe there was some other worldly force at play here.  Not quite afraid but not quite at ease either Alex whispered to himself as if trying to keep the mold from hearing him, “What… the… Hell?”

 
            Alex felt compelled to distract himself from this oddity which was grinding its way into his brain, causing him to think all too deeply on what had to have some kind of rational explanation.  Deciding that he had to busy himself away from his room, at least for now, Alex marched himself down to the kitchen and made himself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with a large glass of milk to wash it down with.

 
            Alex was sitting on one of the two new black leather recliners, admiring how soft and comfortable it was, pressed the release button on the side of the arm and gently felt himself tilting backwards as the chair he was sitting in proved its name to him.  The milk on the side table between him and the couch and the masterfully constructed heap of slippery spreads rolled against each other, causing the bread to separate like it were resting on a slip-and-slide.  Biting into the gooey-goodness, he heard the garage door humming open.  Looking towards the front, Alex waited for his father to enter the house.

 
“Hey Alex, you’re still up.”  Commented Bruce, as he closed the door to the garage behind him.

 
“Yup, I finished the room… but that stupid mold keeps growing back.”  Alex explained with frustration.

 
“Really?  Hmmmm, maybe I’ll take a crack at it tomorrow.”  Bruce decided.

 
“Sounds like a plan, I’m sick of trying for nothing.”  Admitted Alex, “So did you find a carpet?”

 
“Yea, I had to drive all the way up to Salinas California just to find something that was opened after five.  Uh.. make sure to be home from school on Tuesday by four, that’s when the guys come to install it.  Oh!  Did the cable guy come?” Bruce remembered suddenly.

 
“Uh, nope… I didn’t realize he was meant to be coming, you never said anything.”  Said Alex, reaching over and grabbing his glass of milk, greedily chugging half of its contents.

 
“Yea, it completely slipped my mind.”  Bruce scratched his head and flopped onto the couch in front of the television which was hissing with fuzz, “Why are you watching nothing?”

 
            Alex smiled as if being caught doing something he shouldn’t, “I’ve decided it’s Snow White in a snow storm.”

 
“Huh? … Sometimes your imagination creeps me out.”  Bruce admitted, rolling his head in comfort against the softness of the pillow like softness behind his head.

 
            Alex gasped and rolled his eyes, like a heavy burden had just been lifted from his shoulders, “Thank god!  I thought I was the only one.”  He then giggled to try and make his words seem funny.

 
            Bruce just rolled his head once again into the back of the couch and snuggled in as deep as he could.  Alex looked over at his father knowingly, the comfort level of these couches were unbelievable.  Definitely a smart buy, ‘Samantha would have hated these.’ thought Bruce to himself, remembering his wife’s particular tastes and receiving flashes of memories that they had once shared together.  Oh how he missed her; her gentle touch, her comforting smells and her bold personality that one couldn’t help but love.  The way she would dance through the condo on the very tips of her toes, singing to the Cranberries that had been her favorite band.  Her Crimson hair and green eyes that could stare right through a person and tell them what they were thinking.  The way she always knew how to make someone feel better; be it illness or depression.  Her life had not been taken for granted, and her sudden death still haunted him.

 
            He wished so deeply that he could tell his son the truth, maybe even confide in each other some form of comfort.  But no, it was better this way.  It would not be right to tell Alex now what had happened to his mother.  Not after the barely pulled off, sugar coated tale he’d managed to weave for his sons own well being.  He couldn’t let poor young Alex remember his mother that way… remember all the hard times, wake up in the middle of the night in fear of what may happen due to what has happened.  No, let it be.  Things are better this way; But Bruce still felt himself to be so truly alone.

 
“Dad?” Bruce heard his son call to him, “You sleeping?”

 
“Ohhhh” Bruce moaned in a near yawn, “Damn, sorry… it’s been another long day, did you say something?”

 
“Yea, I was just telling you that I had made plans with Harvey to go to the Mall and probably a movie.  Then I asked you if it was okay.”  Alex repeated.

 
“Oh.. Yea of course.  Which mall you going to?”  Bruce wondered, rubbing his eyes while struggling with an inverted stretch.

 
“I think he said the Del Monte Center.”  Alex replied.

 
“Oh yea, okay… that’s just down the road from here.  You think you’d need a ride?”  Bruce offered.

 
“I don’t think so, he said we were going to go to pick up one of his friends on the way.”  Alex explained, dropping the last corner of his sandwich into his now opened mouth.

 
“Alright, wow that’s really cool Squirt.  Only a few days and you’ve already got some friends.  I’m proud of you, not to mention surprised.”

 
“Uh… yea.. thanks Dad… I think.”  Alex said with a small degree of embarrassment.  He hadn’t managed to keep friends for very long back in New York and has always been classified as an unintentional loner.

 
“Well, I think that’s it for me, I gotta get to bed – I’m popped… err.. pooped rather.”  Bruce chuckled at himself and struggled his way off the couch to an upright position.

 
            Alex joined the chuckle, but with a tone of torment in his voice, “Good job Pop’s, Good night.”

 
“Night Alex, don’t stay up too late.”  Bruce suggested.

 
“I wont, there’s nothing to do remember?  I’ll probably go to bed too.”  With that said, Alex turned off the tube and dropped the remote on the side table; pressing the lock button on his chair and waited for it to incline.

 
            Lying blankly in bed, Bruce stared towards the ceiling tracing his thoughts and replaying them over and over again.  He couldn’t seem to get the thoughts and feelings of his wife to subside enough for him to sleep properly.  Memories of that day fumbled around inside of him, allowing no mercy.  Tears caressed his cheeks and dropped freely to the pillow which supported his head.  Wondering how everything had happened, what was going on inside his wife’s head that would allow for such an event to take course?  What could Samantha of all people have done to deserve such a horrible death…

 
            Alex stood in the center of his room, staring with interest at the odd obstruction consuming his bedroom wall.  He couldn’t work out how to get rid of it, well he could, but the turn out of setting it a blaze, although amusing and oddly tempting, would not end well with his father.  The mold seemed to be taking on a three dimensional shape now, like it was actually growing away from the wall just as much as it was along the wall.  It was with out a doubt larger now; nearly an entire square foot and still growing.  Looking close enough, Alex could see the face that Harvey had pointed out to him earlier.  But that was earlier… does that mean its growing back in the exact same pattern as before?  Does that mean it has some form of intelligence?  No.  That was impossible.  Of course, all the evidence thus far would point towards something otherworldly which could easily imply self awareness and actual life.  One thing was certain, one thing Alex new to be true, and it scared him – this was not a regular fungus, not by any means.  This was something that he had to start taking seriously, but something inside him didn’t want to take action.  Told him to leave it be, just forget about it… Maybe even learn its secrets.  Alex crawled into bed and for the first time in more than a week he had been able to put on his pajama bottoms.  The ones his mother had bought for him; the ones she was never able to give to him, the ones he had found in her closet several months later still labeled, ‘For Alex, Love Santa.’  Alex used to always get annoyed at his mothers failed attempts to keep him believing in the impossible… now he found himself wishing he had played along.

 
“Good night Mom.”  Alex whispered towards the window, where the moon was resting high in the sky, like it was trying to escape the horrific sounds created in ignorance by the swarms of unseen crickets.

 
“Good night Sammy.” Bruce whispered under his breath, rolling onto his side and hugging a lonely down filled pillow that he had placed where his wife used to sleep.