Rob Scott - Lessek_s Key

‘Maybe. Or maybe I’ll just do it until one of them sends me along after her.’ He reached for another beer. ‘Either way, I don’t care.’

‘But there is something else bothering you, I see it now. I saw it before, long before Brynne- before she disappeared.’ This was risky; Steven understood he was putting their friendship in jeopardy by pushing Mark along this emotional razor-high-wire. ‘Isn’t there?’

‘Actually, you’re right,’ Mark said.

Steven was a little shocked – he had expected more resistance.

Mark refolded an article from the Denver Post and tucked it into the pocket of his new coat. ‘I’ve been trying to work through something, and it’s still bothering me. Do me a favour, give me Lessek’s key.’

‘What?’ Steven was taken aback by the curious request, but didn’t hesitate. ‘Sure. Here it is.’ He tossed the stone across to Mark who caught it in one hand. Neither noticed Gilmour turn to eavesdrop.

Mark closed his fist over the stone and went on, ‘You know, I never touched this that night in our house, but when you opened that box, I experienced something strange.’ He furrowed his brow, trying to remember exactly how the evening had unfolded. ‘It’s weird, and the only way I can explain it is like this: when I was a kid I had strange sleeping habits: I’d just pass out – the couch, the floor, wherever. So rather than try to lug me upstairs to my room, my mother would throw a blanket over me and leave me there. I never really woke up, but I could always sense when she’d covered me up. Do you know what I mean?’

Steven grunted in response; he didn’t want to derail Mark’s thoughts by interrupting at this point.

‘Well, that night when you opened the box, that’s what I felt: a warm sensation, like someone reached into our apartment and draped some old blanket over me.’ He laughed, grimly. ‘I know this isn’t making sense, but bear with me. I’d been drinking, so at the time I dismissed it – I was just drunk, or stupid, or needing to pee, whatever.’

‘But it came again?’

‘When I came through onto that beach in Estrad, I was out of my mind. I thought I was going to lose it – and you know what happened?’

‘Someone draped a blanket over you?’ Steven felt gooseflesh rise up on his forearms.

‘I remembered being a kid, out at the beach, Jones Beach, on the island. I was in Eldarn less than five goddamned minutes, losing it, going full-on screwball crazy, and all of a sudden, I got a reprieve.’

‘What do you mean, a reprieve?’

‘It wasn’t permanent; before the end of the night, I did lose it, curled in a ball, crying like a child. I thought I was dead. But for about ten minutes, I was given a break – I’m sure of it. I certainly wasn’t in any condition emotionally to look after myself, and someone came down to that beach and draped that old blanket over me.’

‘Lessek.’

‘And Bingo! You’ve won it all – the new car, the trip to Paris, and the showroom full of beautiful prizes,’ Mark said with mock game-show enthusiasm.

‘Holy shit.’ Steven was stunned.

‘You took the words right out of my mouth, cousin.’ Mark drained his beer and leaned back against the log, shoulder to shoulder with his roommate.

‘So what does it mean?’ Steven pressed.

‘I don’t know, but I’m pretty sure I’m supposed to be remembering something about some afternoon out at Jones Beach with my family – something about my dad, I think – but our days at the beach were pretty much the same. The only thing I’ve managed to cling to is a Red Sox-Yankees game, the night before, and the Sox won on some late-inning feat by Karl Yazstremski.’

‘And your dad was pissed off about it?’

‘Hell no, you know my father. He’d gladly go to his grave before supporting the “great scourge of the boroughs“ – no, it’s not that: he’s a Sox fan, no matter that he took all kinds of shit for it at work all his life. The game isn’t all of it, though: I think it’s just a point of reference for me to get the day right.’

Steven pulled one of the saddlebags over and rummaged around for something to eat. Finding a block of cheese, he broke off a chunk and offered the rest to Mark. ‘So what else do you remember?’

‘Dad had a cooler full of beer and a couple of sandwiches. He wore a madras bathing suit, something he had bought back in the ’60s, I’m sure, and he carried my mother’s old yellow beach umbrella out there and stabbed it into the sand like Neil Armstrong claiming the moon for Earth.’

‘How do you remember so many details? That was so long ago – how old were you? Six? Eight?’ Mark’s memory astounded Steven.

‘I remember so much because I’ve relived it so often since we came across the Fold. It happened that night on the beach in Estrad. It came again in the cavern the night before we fought those bone-collector things-’

Steven shuddered. Mark had saved his life that day, swimming to the bottom of a subterranean lake to wrench his body from where it was trapped beneath the carcase of a dead monster.

‘It came again today when you stepped through the far portal with the key in your pocket,’ Mark continued. ‘It was just like the other times – and it’s happening right now as I sit here, touching Lessek’s key: It’s as though I’m there – as if part of my mind is there – reliving that day on the beach with my family.’

‘So he’s trying to tell you something. If you’d come up Seer’s Peak, he would have visited you there.’

‘Maybe, but if I’m right, he has already visited me, dropping a warm blanket on me that night in Estrad. He didn’t need to see me at Seer’s Peak: he needs me to figure out what the hell he meant by hauling me all the way back to Long Island twenty-five years ago.’

‘Well?’ Steven could barely contain his excitement.

‘Well what?’

‘So?’

‘So what?’

‘So, you’ve played it over and over again in your mind. You have the key right now. Talk it out. What looks strange? What are you not seeing that you’re supposed to see?’

‘If we ever get through this, Steven, please remind me to beat the shit out of you,’ Mark said, amused.

‘Why?’

‘Don’t you think I’ve done that? Don’t you think I’m doing that now?’

‘Well?’

‘Christ. Don’t start that again.’ Now he was getting irritated.

‘Tell me what you see.’

Mark closed his eyes and began to speak.

‘Have you ever been to my parents’ house?’

The question surprised Steven. He drew a blank for a moment, then said, ‘Um – yeah – that night after the Mets game at Shea, remember? We decided not to fight the traffic back into the city.’

‘You know that hallway that leads down to my sister’s bedroom, across from my parents’ room?’

Steven cast his thoughts back in time and visualised the house. ‘Okay, right. What about it?’

‘Things begin there-’ Mark shook his head in frustration, ‘no, that’s not right. I guess I should say these visions, memories – they begin there.’

‘In the hall?’

‘Yep.’ Mark reached out with one hand and gestured into the air above the fire. ‘My dad comes down that hall. He has on that old madras bathing suit and a T-shirt from a deli in Amityville, something he got for playing softball one weekend, I think. Anyway, he doesn’t come out of his room, and he’s not coming out of Kim’s room. He’s just there, in the hallway until he turns and moves towards me.’

‘What happens then?’

‘Then we’re outside. I’m helping him load everything into the back of the old station wagon.’ Mark grinned and opened his eyes for a moment. ‘I can’t believe my mother ever drove around in that monster. I know time tends to exaggerate our recollection of things, but that old car must have been forty feet long; it was a beached whale. She couldn’t have been getting more than three or four hundred feet to a gallon.’