Short Story
The Walk Back
“Dad, please don’t leave me, please… just take me home!”
“Knock, Knock Peter!” he whispered from behind the door. I did not open. “Peter! Peter! Peter!” he sang my name over and over. Terrified, I remained on the ground, my body shivering, back against the wall. SLAM!! He banged the door. A cold silence gushed in from the slit below. He spoke again, “You wouldn’t wanna make me come inside now, would you Peter?” I heard footsteps walk out of the front yard. Something inside me said I had to leave, that him being inside would be much worse than what it would be out there. I opened the door, and I saw him on the street, waiting for me.
A tall, thin figure, with long arms and legs, dressed in a black coat with a Lincoln hat. His neck crooked, eyes, big and pearl white, carrying a cane with him. With his tiny pupils, he looked towards me and smiled me the most dreadful smile I had ever seen. For a moment I stood by the door, petrified, wanting to dash back inside, bolt the door once and for all, but I knew it would be futile. The sky was turning darker, the air grew colder.
Out on the street, we started walking. The streets, lit by a series of yellow lamps, were eerily empty. I gazed over at the nearby park. And in that park I saw empty swings in motion, I heard cries of children playing, but could not see anyone. I tried not to focus on it. I looked behind at my house, the door was left open. It was, however, too late to return. He reached his hand out and rested it over my shoulder, I felt burdened, uncomfortable.
I had been walking for some ten minutes then, when he asked, “So, Peter, tell me, how long have you been in this town?” “Hmm?” he murmured again when I did not reply. “Se…seventeen years.” I stammered. “Seventeen years is a long time, isn’t it? To meet people, make friends, hun? Say for that boy.” he pointed his finger towards a boy walking on the other side of the street. I looked up, only to find Samuel. Samuel was one of my first friends in school, a very dear friend indeed. Oh! How relieved I was to see him! He was walking in the opposite direction, with his left arm in a sling. Yes, I remember, we were in fifth grade when during a football game, we crashed into each other and he fell on his arm, lost a term because of it, because of me, I regret.
“Sam!” I cried as I rushed towards him. But as I reached the other side of the street, Sam wasn’t there. I looked around, no one was there. I was shocked, confused, unable to comprehend what was happening. I felt a palm rest on my shoulder, I turned back. Seeing that dreadful face up close, scared the hell out of me, I fell on the ground. “What is happening here? Who… who are you? What do you want with me?” I cried. I wanted to run, but the entire place was so horrifying that his company seemed ironically safer. He smiled the same grim smile at me, grabbed my hand and pulled me up against my will.
Not much time had passed when I heard the sound of a bicycle’s bell. I turned around. A small boy, on his bicycle, riding as fast as he could, went right past us, only to skid by a tree. He began crying. I ran to his rescue. “Hey! Are you alright? Are you hurt?” I asked the boy, but he did not seem to hear me. As I reached out to pick him, I was stunned to see my hand go right past him. A man in blue shirt and square glasses came running towards us, “Dad?” I exhaled, and in that moment I realized that this small, wailing boy was, me. “Shh. Shh. It’s alright Pete, Dad’s here. Shh. It’s okay now.” he calmed his wailing son. “DAD!” I screamed again and again, but he could not here me. I burst into tears, as he picked his son in his arms and started leaving. “Dad, please don’t leave me, please…just take me home.” I cried for one last time. He stood right there, with his dead eye stare. “Who are you? Why are you doing this to me? For God’s sake, just let me go!” I begged him.
“You chose this for yourself Peter. You had possibly everything. And yet, you chose this.” he replied in the most blunt manner possible.
I continued, from under one lamp light, to another, from one memory to the next, knowing not when this nightmare would end. I would look at the houses on either side of the streets, all of them dark, empty. There were no dogs on the streets, no cats, no nocturnal creature in the sky either. It was so quiet as if I was the only one left there, left behind. And, maybe I was. There was nothing, other than his harrowing presence and those memories which now came haunting at me. I kept praying to God, to help me out of this. But it seemed, even He could not here me anymore. At some point I came across a pink envelope lying on the street, with a heart drawn upon it. I stopped. “What happened Peter, remembered someone? Someone special?” I heard him again. It was too much to bear now, I closed my eyes, mustering up all my courage, I dashed.
Not knowing where, I kept running on that endless street, no turns, no crossings, I just kept running, and before I realized I was deep into a forest I never knew existed before. I looked behind. He wasn’t following me, I slowed down. Looking around, I saw a moving figure at some distance. I was gasping for breath, my mind clouded, I did not know anything, I did not understand anything, I just wanted to go back home, just go back, lie on my bed, be with my friends, my family, Mom, Dad, I just wanted this to end. I quietly approached the figure. It was that of a man. There was no one else around, just the two of us. He was tall, had a shovel in his hand, and had been digging up the ground. I gulped. With a hesitant tone I called him, “He…hello?” He stopped. I looked at the hole he’d been digging. It was big, a grave. The man dropped the shovel, and turned towards me. With a crooked neck and eyes as white as a pearl, he looked at me and smiled.
