cinderblocks. The gap was too narrow for him to insert a finger, so he searched for something thin enough to fit the slot. A piece of paper, perhaps? It wouldn't help him pry it open any further, but maybe he could see how deep the crack went.
He placed the paper into the slot and watched it vanish into the wall. There was space back there after all. But how could he break into it? Maybe there was a more accessible opening from the other side of the wall. But the only thing that way was his back yard.
He was about to go check when another thought struck him, an unsettling thought. How had Jim Jim known his name? Link's profile name was Link Hartkins. Nobody, outside of his parents, ever called him Lincoln. And there was no way that his dad would have set up a Facebook account without asking for Link's help.
11
Down the Rabbit Hole
When he reached the top of the stairs, Link heard an eerie creaking as the door to the medicine cabinet swung open. The smooth surface of the mirror reflected the pale afternoon light that passed through the paisley curtains from beyond. Obscured by shadow, a dark reflection in the mirror appeared to be laughing. Too stunned to move, Link could only stare. It was the girl from the fire. He was sure of it.
Going against his better judgment, he approached the mirror. The closer he got, the sillier he began to feel. He hadn't seen some scary shadow creature. It was his own reflection. He felt the tension release from his shoulders. The figure hadn't been laughing. It had probably just been his own reflection as he stood there hyperventilating like a coward.
"Idiot," he cursed. "Scared of your own shadow."
Link stepped outside onto the large terracotta tiles of the back porch. The polished surface felt warm beneath his bare feet.
It didn't take him long to find the deeply set window well that led down to his room. Using it as a reference point, he searched through the dense layers of trumpet vine that had overtaken the side of the house. The deep green shoots climbed over everything, blanketing the wall in leaves and periodic, bell-shaped flowers of magenta and pink.
An occasional honeybee buzzed from flower to flower as Link pulled the vines from their stranglehold on a rickety, wooden trellis. Beneath a layer of dirt and grime, and behind a section of vines where the trellis had been cut away, was a small, rusted metal door.
Link squatted over the door and stared at it. It was just an ordinary door. Still, there was something ominous about it, something evil. He would never have been able to explain this feeling to anyone. To all outward appearances, it was nothing more than an old door. And yet, deep inside, Link knew it was much more than that.
He felt like Alice must have when she'd decided whether to go down the rabbit hole. Should he walk away and resume life as usual, or should he open it and see just how far this rabbit hole went? Right now, he wasn't ready to decide.
12
Why Does the Dark Move?
That night, the Hartkins family ate their pizza in silence. Even Ayden, who was usually gibbering to himself in his piecemeal and fragmented language, quietly munched his food. For some reason he appeared to be scanning the dining room walls. With Link's mind elsewhere and Mr. Hartkin's attention on a stack of papers from work, Ayden's unusual behavior barely even registered.
Finally, it was Ayden who broke the silence. "Why dark move?" he asked in a low, tremulous voice.
"What's that?" Mr. Hartkins said. He raised his head in awakened interest.
"Why dark move?" Ayden repeated, staring at the wall across from him.
"I don't know why guards move," Mr. Hartkins said. "In fact, some aren't supposed to move at all. Remember the ones we saw in England? The ones dressed in red with the big, black furry hats? No. You wouldn't remember those. You were far too young."
"I say dark. Why dark move?"
"Darts?" Mr. Hartkins suggested, again attempting to supply Ayden with words that made more sense.
"Dad," Link interrupted, "I think he said 'dark.'"
Mr. Hartkins's face tightened as he nodded. "That's what I heard, too. But it doesn't make any sense." He scratched his chin then said, "Does this have something to do with one of his superheroes?"
Link shrugged. He wasn't about to read too much into it. Only yesterday, Ayden had pointed at a car and called it an A&W. It turned out, he had meant BMW, but that little mystery had taken nearly two hours to sort out. And, at the moment, Link had more important issues to consider than his brother's fractured vocabulary.
Mr. Hartkins took Ayden's hand and forced a smile. "Honey, are you asking why the dark moves, or is it something else?"
Ayden nodded, still staring wide-eyed at the far wall. He didn't say a word. He didn't have to. His cowering body language said it all.
Both Link and his dad followed Ayden's gaze. Mr. Hartkins looked first at the wall and then at Link. "Is it me, or is Ayden staring at an empty wall?"
"No."
"Huh? What is it then?"
"No clue. But it certainly isn't just a wall. Not to him anyway. He sees something. Look at his pupils." Link pointed at his brother's eyes. "They're huge."
"But the wall is just...a wall. Isn't it?"
"Maybe I can pretend to shoo it away, whatever it is." Link walked over to where his brother was staring and reached his hands up.
Suddenly, Ayden screamed, "No!" His face went white. Horror filled his eyes. "Don't! Don't touch him!"
"Him?" Link immediately pulled his hand back, but Mr. Hartkins was the first to speak. "Him?" The uncertainty in his voice mirrored both his confusion and his concern. "Do you see anything from there, Lincoln?" he asked. "Maybe you see a spider...a snake perhaps."
"A snake? Seriously, Dad? Up near the ceiling?"
As the designated interpreter for such situations, Link turned to Ayden and said, "What do you see, Bug? What are you looking at? Is there something up here?" He raised his arm again, slowly this time, and watched his brother's eyes bulge. "Is the dark still moving?" Link asked.
Ayden said nothing. He just shook all over.
"Is the dark on the wall, Bug?" Link asked. He moved away from the wall and back toward his brother. From behind, he hugged Ayden and then said, "The tickle monster is coming to get you." Link raised his fingers, wiggled them, and waited for his brother to laugh. When he didn't, Link plunged his hands down to his brother's pits and began to tickle. To his astonishment, Ayden didn't even flinch. It was like he was in a trance.
"Lincoln," Mr. Hartkins said, "it's just a wall. It can't be...I mean, it couldn't be genetic, could it?"
Before Link could answer, Ayden seemed to snap out of it. "It okay now," he said. "He gone." And then, as if nothing strange had happened, he resumed eating his dinner in silence.
"Did Ayden just say 'he' is gone?" Mr. Hartkins asked. "Since when is the dark a 'he?' You're sure he's not talking about one of his superheroes?"
The phone rang and Mr. Hartkins jumped up to see who was on the call display before Link had a chance to reply. With a dazzling smile, his dad said, "Ah, yes!" He pumped his fist in triumph. Grabbing the portable phone from its cradle, he said, "Excuse me, boys. I need to get this. Fingers crossed. This would be a sweet commission." To Link he added, "Could you help your brother finish up?" He pointed to the untouched pile of asparagus on Ayden's plate.
Link watched Ayden finish his meal in silence. He wondered which inexplicable mood swing he found more disturbing: his brother's newfound terror of empty walls or his father's complete denial of what he had just seen. Wasn't Link supposed to be the teenager around here? If anyone was entitled to a good, old-fashioned mood swing, it should be him.
A few moments later, Mr. Hartkins reentered the room and said, "Good news. Looks like I sold a house! Not the Briddick house, like I had hoped, but a sale is a sale. I know you're still on the mend from that whole tree thing, but could you be a champ and watch your brother again tonight? It'd be a huge help."
"Whatever," Link said, not looking up from his meal.
"Thanks, kiddo," his dad replied
, not skipping a beat. "I'll be back in a jiff, but if I'm late, can you let him sleep with you again? I think he's feeling a bit off tonight. Maybe he's coming down with something. Probably best if you don't drink from the same cups."
Link looked up and returned his father's impossible glee with a scowl. "You know, Dad, just because he's acting strange, doesn't mean he's going to turn out like Mom."
"What? I never...your mom didn't...I mean...look...." There was a long pause. "We'll talk later, okay?"
Link knew the look and knew a dismissal when he heard one. His father had just put an end to the discussion whether Link liked it or not. When his father said they could 'talk later,' what he really meant was 'for the love of God, don't ever mention this night again.'
13
Tittywinks
Later that night, after Ayden had beaten Link in Candy Land for the fifth consecutive time, Link decided it was time for a different game. He was sick of losing. At the current rate, it would probably be two minutes past forever before Link reached King Kandy first.
Ayden's chubby-cheeked victory smiles, the ones where his dimpled cheeks nearly swallowed his eyes, always made Link grin. It was nice to see him happy again. Smiles had been in short supply lately. But enough was enough. One can only take defeat at the hands of a four-year-old for so long.
Besides, deep down Link knew the real reason he drew the gumdrop every time had nothing to do with his brother's gaming abilities. The simple truth was that the universe didn't like him, had never