Joe Gribble - Darkest Edge

Mark watched as Rachel’s eyes drooped slightly. “It’s okay, Daddy,” Rachel said. “Maybe tomorrow.”

“You got it, kiddo. Tomorrow,” Mark said. “For sure tomorrow.”

Amanda stared at Mark coldly, silently chewing her food.

“You have to go back to work?” Amanda asked him. “Again?”

Mark nodded. “Yeah. Sorry, honey. I’m on a real hot story. Art’s all over me to get it done.”

Amanda continued to stare at Mark.

Mark forked another bite of potatoes.

Amanda shook her head slightly, looked back down at her food as she cuts off a bite of the pork chop. “Oh, you had a phone call. Your sister, Jackie. She left a message. It’s on the answering machine.” Amanda looked up at Mark. “Doesn’t she have your cell number?”

Mark looked over at Amanda. “Jackie called? I haven’t talked to her in a long time. Couple of years, maybe.”

“Yeah,” Amanda said. “In fact, there’re a couple of messages. I didn’t want to be nosey and listen to all of them.”

Mark put down his silverware and got up. He walked to the kitchen and poked the answering machine.

“Hi Mark. It’s Jackie. Your sister Jackie. Wondered if you could give me a call. Thanks.”

Mark pushed the button again.

“Mark, it’s Jackie again. I hate to be a bother, but I’d really like to talk to you. Please call.”

Mark was getting concerned. Though they weren’t very close anymore, he owed Jackie a lot. Her voice sounded strained. He pushed the button again.

“Hi Mark. Jackie again. It’s really been a long time, hasn’t it? Miss you a lot. Really need to talk.”

Now Mark was really worried. He noted the messages had all been left late this morning and into the afternoon. There was one more.

“Mark, this is Jackie. Just wanted to say I love you. It’ll be okay.”

Mark’s heart sank. He grabbed the phone and dialed the number listed on the answering machine. It connected, then rang. No answer. No answering machine. “Damn,” Mark said as he rushed back into the dining room. Amanda and Rachel were clearing the dishes. Mark followed them into the kitchen. He opened the refrigerator and grabbed a water bottle.

Amanda looked at him strangely. “What are you doing?”

“Something’s wrong. I’m going to Dayton to check on Jackie.”

“Mark, that’s a five-hour drive.”

Mark called for Rachel to come over. “Come give Daddy a hug,” he said. Rachel wrapped her arms around him, a bit of a tear forming in her eye. Mark wiped it off with his thumb. “It’s okay honey, I’ll be back real soon. Maybe tomorrow. You be a good girl, okay?”

Rachel nodded.

Mark turned to Amanda. He leaned forward to kiss her, but she turned her head. Mark kissed her cheek. “I’ll be back tomorrow, at the latest.”

“I don’t really know why you’re going down there. You haven’t seen her in years,” Amanda said.

“She sounded really bad. I’ll keep trying to call her as I drive. I’ll let you know if I hear from her.”

Amanda turned away from him. “Okay, Mark. Whatever. Do what you think you need to do.”

Mark grabbed his jacket from the living room and headed out the door. He glanced back and waved to Rachel, standing at the door.

He jumped in his car. Checked the gas. Almost a full tank. Mark started the engine and dropped the shifter into reverse with one hand, dialing his boss with the other. The phone went straight to voice mail. Mark slipped the car in gear and hit ‘zero’ to bypass the greeting. He waited for the beep. “Art, hey, this is Mark. I have a major problem. I have to run down to Dayton to check on my sister. She called earlier today. I just got her messages. She doesn’t sound good. I definitely won’t be in tonight. Just tell Ernie to edit the video we shot today. I’ll get the copy done for it as soon as I get back. Bye.”

Mark dialed his sister’s number. Still no answer. “Damn.”

At a mostly empty truck stop, Mark poured a cup of coffee from the machine and paid the cashier for it. He headed back out to his car. As he pulled on his seat belt, Mark hit re-dial on his phone. Still no answer. “Damn.” He started the car and headed south.

Mark drove slowly down the neighborhood street. He shook his head. From what he could see in the moonlight, and the light provided by the few street lights that still worked, the houses were in much worse shape than he remembered. The whole neighborhood looked like it was going to hell. Overgrown grass. Potholes everywhere. He strained to look for the right house. He finally spotted it and pulled up to the curb. He hesitated. There were no lights on in the house. With a shaking hand, Mark opened the car door and stepped out. The only noise was some music in the distance. He stepped over the broken concrete curb and followed the concrete walk up to some crumbling steps. He climbed them and went up to the front door.

Mark raised his fist to knock, but hesitated. He took a deep breath, then hammered twice. A long silence followed. No motion in the house that he could hear or see. He raised his fist and hammered twice more. “Jackie!” he yelled. Again no response. He opened the screen door and tried the doorknob. Locked. Mark backed up a step and looked both ways at the sides of the front of the house. Beyond the small porch there was a window on either side. He backed out and struggled through the overgrown bushes on the right side of the house to try and look through the window. The curtains and darkness blocked his view. Even his phone flashlight didn’t help.

He fought his way back out of the bushes and went to the other side of the porch. More bushes. The bushes poked and scratched him as he made his way up to the window. Once at the window, he had to pull himself up to get a look inside. Fortunately, the curtains were slightly open. He used his flashlight to try and see inside.

As his eyes adjusted to the dimly lit room, he thought he saw something. A person. Laying on a couch, covered by a blanket. Jackie? Mark held himself up with one hand and tapped on the window with his other, but there was no movement. Mark’s hand gave out and he dropped back down to the ground. He lifted himself up again. Tapped harder on the window this time. “Jackie” he yelled. “Jackie! Wake up! It’s Mark.” Still nothing. His fingers failed him again and he fell back to the ground.

Mark rushed back to the porch. He lifted the doormat, searching. Nothing. He turned his attention to a dead plant in a pot on the porch railing. He lifted the pot. A key. Mark slung the screen door open and inserted the key. He twisted the knob and the door opened. He pushed the door open and went inside, guided by the light from his phone. He spotted a light switch and flipped it up. Nothing. He pointed his flashlight down the front hallway. Two steps forward and through a door on the left into the room where he had spotted the person. His light fell on the face he had spotted from the window.

Eyes shut, blanket pulled up to her chin. It was Jackie. She didn’t look good.

“Jackie,” Mark said quietly. Then louder: “Jackie!”

He stepped toward her, noticing a pair of crutches draped against the end of the couch. He shook her shoulder. “Jackie!”. She didn’t move. He shook her again. Harder. “Jackie! Wake up!” No response. Mark panned his light to the end table. Noticed a few pills on the table and an empty pill bottle. Next to that, an empty vodka bottle and a kitchen glass.

“No,” he said under his breath. Mark reached to touch Jackie’s cheek. His hand recoiled at the touch of her cold skin. “No, no, no….” Mark said, increasingly louder. He tentatively reached toward her and touched her neck, looking for a pulse. Mark’s shoulders sagged. “Jackie. No.” Mark collapsed slowly until he was sitting on the coffee table. His head dropped into his hands. “Jackie. No….”