Off to Never Never Land

Off to Never Never Land

    Another torturous day was coming to an end.  Charlie sat back in the lazy boy, pushed thoughts of his miserable day behind him and watched television. Normal kids would kick back and relax after school, but he was feeling very anxious over the setting sun and the impending darkness. Not only were the visions worse at night, but the feelings of guilt over John’s disappearance also intensified. He shifted his view to the side, looked out the window and fell into deep thought when he was distracted by the sound of his mother bouncing down the stairs. Tonight was bridge night with her friends. Unconcerned, he turned his head back toward the television.

    “Charlie”, she said. One hand was on her hip and her head tilted to the side, her futile attempt to make eye contact.

    He responded with a stifled “What?”

    She proceeded to move in front of the television and block his view. “Don’t stay up too late. You have school tomorrow.” There was a moment of silence, “I’m serious!”

    “Sure mom” He gave her a fleeting glance then shifted his view back out the window. The darkness seemed to be creeping in faster than usual. He wished she would leave.

    She gathered her purse and keys, trotted toward the door then hesitated. Charlie could feel her concerned eyes upon him, but he ignored her until she finally left. The relief he felt was almost instantaneous. However, the evil was still around him and panic began to ensue. His heart started to race and when he focused back on the television he saw John’s face rise from the screen.  It bubbled out toward him, taking the shape of a head surrounded by a soupy fog. Its expression was somber and called out in a low moan.

    “Wait, it’s too soon.  Wait it’s too soon.”

    “What does that mean?” cried out Charlie. He jumped from the chair, covered his ears with his hands and walked a complete circle.

    “Wait it’s too sooooooon”

    “Stop! Stop!” he yelled.

    Charlie shut his eyes and squeezed them tight. Pushing through the apparition he reached for the television and turned it off.  Hands sweating and breathing heavy he ran to the kitchen straight for the bottle of Vodka. “Mom has so much booze here, she’ll never know its missing” he thought.  His mother only drank when she had company and never kept track of her inventory.  Without any hesitation he twisted off the bottle’s cap and threw it on the floor. It rolled on its side right under the refrigerator.  He proceeded to take one giant swig after another until he developed a solid buzz. The room began to spin and he now felt brave enough to saunter into the room from which he had left in such a hurry. There was silence, the evil had left.

    He climbed the stairs, taking slow and deliberate steps. Once he reached the top he turned off toward his room, entered and slammed the door shut.  He lost balance a few times as he stripped down to his boxer shorts. The messy bed seemed a thousand miles away, but he staggered over to it and collapsed on the soft and comfortable mattress. His breathing slowed and he felt numb. Not wanting to lose that sensation or chance facing the evil, he continued to drink until he fell asleep.

    When he woke his head was still spinning from the night before and the thought of dragging himself out of bed to go to school was more than he could bear. Laying face down on the mattress, his left arm dangling over the side, he fumbled around for the bottle of Vodka he had almost polished off earlier.  He stretched his arm as far as he could under the bed and just as he grasped the cool glass neck of the savior bottle there was a loud knock at his bedroom door. It startled him enough that he released the bottle, causing it to roll under the bed.

    “Charlie!” yelled the voice. Then BANG, the door flew open and slammed against the wall. “You are going to be late for school again!” screamed the shrill, angry voice.

    “I don’t feel well,” replied a groggy and very hung-over Charlie.

    “Enough of that! You have no more sick days! No more excuses!”

    She hustled over to the one small window beside Charlie’s bed and grasped the edge of the flimsy roller shade that protected him from the outside. SNAP! It flew up! The rays of light jabbed at his half-open eyes, feeling like thousands of tiny needles.

    He emitted a low groan and grabbed for the pillow beneath him to cover his head. She was one step ahead of him, pulling the pillow from his feeble grip.

    “Mom!” he yelled

    “You have exactly ten minutes to get ready!” and with that she threw the pillow at Charlie’s head, turned on her heel and stormed out of the room.

    Charlie dragged himself out of the warmth of his bed, pulled on a black tee-shirt and a pair of black denim jeans. He staggered down the hall to the bathroom where he relieved his exploding bladder and brushed his teeth, the smell of alcohol still fresh on his breath. Bent over the sink, the feeling of nausea creeping up on him, he questioned why he did this to himself. Why he drowned himself in the bottle to escape the evil that chased him. Pushing negative thoughts out of his mind, he stood straight and studied himself in the mirror. He wet his hands and pulled his fingers through his greasy hair then turned back down the hall whence he had come.

    As he passed by his room he hesitated a moment to look out the tiny window smack dab in the middle of the wall in his ramshackle room. The trees in the front yard swayed in the cool autumn breeze. Their rhythmic motion seemed deliberate and evil to him. He feared what was out there waiting for him. He pushed the thought aside.

    “Chilly out,” he mumbled to himself as he entered his room and grabbed his black jacket off the rickety old chair that served as his clothing rack. He held the coat with a firm grip in one hand and searched the pockets with the other. He must not forget his MP3 player. Alcohol was not his only escape; music soothed him too.  The small square object was there along with his ear buds.  “Good” he thought, “Now just to get past mom.”

    He passed through the kitchen to grab his un-opened backpack. He never did his homework because he had more important things to conquer…..like the evil that awaited him. Slinging the pack over his shoulder he raced to the front door, but his mother jumped in front of him, blocking his way.

    “Aren’t you going to eat?” she asked with a hint of scorn in her voice.

    “I’m not hungry” and he twisted to the side to try to glide past her, but she moved to block him once again.

    “I don’t understand. What happened to you?” She asked as her tone changed from one of anger to one of desperation. A lump rose in her throat and her voice cracked as she continued. “ You used to be so sweet. You were such a good boy and a good student too. We used to be the perfect family. We kept no secrets. What is wrong Charlie? Please tell me!”

    “Mom, I’m going to be late!” Her display of emotion sickened him.

    “Charlie have you been drinking?” her demeanor firm. He thought she smelled alcohol on his breath, but was not certain. He had to think fast to escape her penetrating stare.

    “Mouthwash mom!” he exclaimed.

    “Charlie, whatever is bothering you…you must face it or it will never go away.” Tears welled-up in her eyes. “My therapist says it’s the only way you are going to get better.” Her eyes met his and were pleading.

    “What the hell does your therapist know!” demanded Charlie. His vision blurred as he filled with rage. He had problems, big problems yet his mother was the one in therapy, trying to convince herself she is the perfect mother.  “You just continue to talk to your therapist about me. She’ll tell you what a wonderful mother you are and how I am just a random bad egg. She’ll tell you want you want to hear as long as you continue to write her checks!” His chest heaved and he felt like his heart might explode. He proceeded to thrust past her and ran out the front door.

    There he was now, outside where the evil waited for him. Panic ensued and he began a frenzied search of his pocket for the MP3 player. The smooth hard surface met his fingers and he pulled it out and began to run his index finger around, accessing the menu and then the music. He tuned it to Metallica. The list displayed the same song over and over “Enter Sandman”.  The lyrics reminded him of John and the tremendous guilt he felt for not helping him. Forgetting about him was not an option; he was his best friend. Wasting no time, he pushed the ear buds into his ears then cranked up the music, all the while nervously glancing around.

          “Say your prayers little one

        Don't forget, my son

        To include everyone”

    The tall and thin evergreen trees wavered to the left and then to the right. The tiny needles vibrated and the chill from the air penetrated his very core. Then he realized that he felt no wind against his face, yet the trees began to bend more and more as if taunting him. Charlie closed his eyes tight as if to clear his vision. His breathing intensified and then he opened them and there it was again, only inches from him. It was a huge apparition of John’s face surrounded by a mass of thick flowing gasses. This time it was a pale and miserable face. “Charlie” it called “Charlie”, but he could not hear it, he could only read its lips.

    He threw himself to ground and hugged his knees. “No, No, you disappeared, it wasn’t my fault. I couldn’t help you!”

    And then there was a sharp shooting pain in his side and he tumbled over. The ear buds fell from his head and he hesitated before looking up, terrified of what he might see.

    “Crazy Charlie! So who was it you murdered anyway?” snickered the large, brawny boy who hovered over him. He then jerked back his leg in preparation to deliver another kick, but withdrew his foot at the last moment. He chuckled as Charlie cowered to protect himself from the impending blow.



    Rick Rose was a towering menace looking down on him as if he were a dog. Charlie felt angry and was fed up with all of it. He thought about how much he hated his miserable life, the guilt of his lost friend, the sad look his mother gave him. Charlie sprang to his feet, got into Rick’s face and yelled, “Leave me alone you twisted F***!” Rick pushed Charlie back and he lost his balance, but only for a moment. He steadied himself then in a move uncharacteristic of himself, he shoved the monstrous boy back.

    “One of these days I am going to really kick your F***ing ass!” yelled Rick as he turned to walk away.

    Charlie was amused by Rick’s retreat. He proceeded to brush the dirt off his clothes then fumbled around for his ear buds. He pushed them hard into his ears. The words continued to play like a chant in his head.

    “Sleep with one eye open

      Gripping your pillow tight

      Exit light

      Enter night

      Take my hand

      Off to never never land”

    He was closer to the school now and was in deep thought about what happened to John. There was no screaming when he disappeared. Not to mention no blood or even a body. It was not his fault that John vanished. His memory of the event was lucid, as if it had just happened yesterday. It was three years ago in May, the night before the last day of school. It was an exciting time for Charlie because he was leaving middle school and ready to enter high school. It was like a passage into manhood for him. Things could not have been better. His mother and father were still married and he had good grades. He even excelled at sports, but he gave up athletics a long time ago. It is not possible to be at one’s physical best when suffering from a perpetual hang-over.

    The boys had learned days before graduation that several of the girls were going to Gravel Hill Cemetery to conjure up the dead. It was the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard. A devout atheist, he did not believe in spirits either good or evil. Charlie and John had decided to meet at the gates of the cemetery behind the large oak tree in front that served almost as sentinel. They would wait for the girls and follow them, make noises and scare them. They really did not have a set plan of how they were going to spook the girls, but they knew it would be easy.

    The night was dark, the only light coming from the glow of the full moon. It was late May and the air was hot and humid. Charlie snuck out the small window of his bedroom, which was situated over the little roof that covered the front porch. He made the one mile hike to the cemetery. He felt like he was creeping along, his way lit by the anemic moon and his small dwindling flashlight. There was not a single breeze through the night and the heat was almost stifling. Sweat poured from his every pore and his tee-shirt was beginning to absorb the moisture from his skin. A sticky v-shaped pattern began to form at the top of his chest and worked its way downward.

    In the distance he thought he heard girls giggling. He got excited thinking the girls were near. He wondered which one would scream the loudest and what lies they would tell at the beginning of the new school year.

    He passed through some open areas, but the trees grew thicker as he approached the graveyard. The evergreens released their Christmas scent and began to sway in a rhythmic dance. At the time Charlie did not register the fact that there was not a single breeze that night. His excitement lured him forward.

    The giant oak came to view and looked many times its size under the light of the moon. A long shadow fell across the barren grounds that surrounded the tree. Long straggly branches gave the appearance of out stretched crooked arms. The closer Charlie got to the tree the more it seemed like the shadowy arms followed him. He chose to ignore it as nothing more than a trick of his mind.

    “John! John!” he yelled out and shined his flashlight at the oak tree.

    “Pst…over here” and John poked his head from around the wide tree.

    “How long have you been waiting?” inquired Charlie as he switched off the flashlight and shoved it in his back short pocket.

    “’bout fifteen minutes. You are late” He said as he gave his glow in the dark watch a fleeting glance. It was five past midnight.

    “Sorry. What time are they supposed to get here?”

    “Midnight, when the layer between this world and the other world is thinnest.”

    “Seriously?” said Charlie, “How do you know that?” He was very surprised over John’s apparent knowledge of the other world. He was sure he was an atheist just like him.

    There was a moment of uncomfortable silence which was soon broken by the sounds of branches cracking under foot. Then there was laughter, it was clear and distinct and came from inside the graveyard. Charlie’s breathing increased with excitement.

    “It’s time,” said John and they looked at each other and smiled.

    John took the lead and opened the old wrought iron gate with care as if he were afraid it would fall off its hinges. It released a long eerie squeak. The thick metal rails cast long shadows on the ground. Charlie was beginning to feel that things just were not quite right.

    “Where do you suppose they are exactly?” asked Charlie. He no longer heard laughter and there were no discernable voices. He wondered how the girls entered the cemetery. The iron fence that surrounded its perimeter was old, but intact. It was also at least twelve feet tall. No way could the girls have climbed over it. Excitement began to melt into fear.

    “Did you see them enter before I came?” whispered Charlie.

    “No. They must be over there” and he pointed one finger in the direction of the old two room school house that was situated almost right in the middle of the cemetery. Maybe the girls snuck past John un-noticed, but that seemed doubtful. The building was in good condition, not the least bit marred by the elements and yet the headstones were old and weathered. Even in the dark Charlie could see the large pit marks in the chunky, lopsided stones. Parts of them seemed darker than others due to the moss that grew in patches on their rough surfaces.

    John’s behavior was strange, the excitement was gone and he seemed very serious. He glanced at his watch and became agitated, ten past midnight. Charlie thought he must have been terrified, but he seemed more distracted then anything else.

    “Over here,” he said as he quickened his pace toward the old school. Charlie followed even though he felt odd and his sixth sense was screaming at him to run straight home.

    As they approached the old school with its white domed shape top it appeared to glow. It was a subtle glow like a dim night light. Then a halo like shine began to rise up from behind the tiny structure.

    “I think we should go” said Charlie.

    “C’mon” said John and he tugged on Charlie’s arm. As they approached the structure a strong wind began to blow. Leaves and other debris that had been resting on the earthen ground rose up in a flurry. The noise of their rustling was unbearable. The front door of the old school began to radiate an intense heat and then glow red hot. The little doorknob began to rattle then turn. Charlie was petrified.

    Still John beckoned him to go closer. Just when he had decided to turn back and run toward the gate from whence they had come, hard footsteps came up from behind and an unusual shadow began to form over him, stretching further and further until he could no longer see the light from the moon. Charlie took a good look forward and ran as fast as he could toward the gate.

    “Wait it’s too soon!” he heard John call out.

    “What was John waiting for?” thought Charlie. For a split second he pondered if he should return and find him. Maybe John needed him to lead him out of the darkness. After all, he had the flashlight. Then his racing thoughts were interrupted as a searing pain went through his ankle. He stumbled forward over a small headstone and found himself sprawled on the ground in utter complete darkness. Some strange force enveloped him and began to pull him back. He fought it with all his might. Somehow he managed to spring to his feet and ran as fast as he could with giant strides, ignoring the intensifying pain in his ankle. On occasion he leapt, thinking it would improve his chances of clearing any more semi-erect headstones. He grappled with his back pocket and found the flashlight. It was slippery in his sweaty hand, but somehow he managed to whip it out and switch it on.

    Ahead he saw the oak like a beacon of hope from within the darkness. He concentrated all his efforts on reaching that tree even as the force pulled harder and harder. He slammed through the heavy iron gate and threw himself face forward at the foot of the oak tree. The cemetery released a windy wail and a sound like a freight train moving full steam ahead.

    He rolled over on his back and watched in sheer horror as he saw an apparition of John’s face rise from the commotion and say “Wait it’s too soon!”

    Feelings of guilt mingled with physical pain as he lay on the ground, panting and out of breath. His ankle throbbed, his legs were sore and his lungs burned. Despite all he had just witnessed he went home and went back to bed wondering what he should tell his parents.

    The next day John’s parents noticed their son was missing and a massive search party was set out to find him. Charlie was afraid to speak up. What if they blamed him for the disappearance? He knew they would never believe what he had witnessed. He hoped and actually prayed, for the first time in his life, that John would be found alive and well.

    Days turned to weeks and weeks to months and John was never found. Often times Charlie saw John’s face and heard his voice. He also felt he was being followed by the black shadow, the evil. Every day of his waking life he was consumed with guilt and fear. Drinking made some of the guilt and the images of John go away. The music drowned out the voices.

    Before he knew it he was off course to the school and found himself standing in front of the old oak tree. He had not dared return there ever since John disappeared. Then, he recalled what his mother had said, “You must face the issue or it will never go away.” As he stood there an eerie presence over came him. “What do you want?” he yelled out! A shadow fell from the tree and before he knew it he was giggling. It was a soft giggle. He felt happy, but then scarred as his senses were dulled. His own giggles seemed muted, yet he could feel them escalate into a full out evil laugh. He could still see through his own eyes, but it was as if from behind a glass door. Someone or something was inside of him and was pushing him aside.

    His guilt turned to anger. John got what he deserved. He should have played by the rules. He thinks it’s not fair? Well life is not fair. He released a hearty chortle. Life after death is not always fair either.

    “Wait it’s too soon!” he exclaimed. Then he laughed.

    “Wait it’s too soon!” he now spat out with contempt.

    Charlie turned back to the path to school. He sauntered into class with his head held high, prompting some of the kids to stare at him in disbelief. There was a change in him and everyone could feel it, especially Rick Rose.

    After the first period class, just as Charlie exited the room, Rick grabbed his arm and pulled him close to his face. “You think you’re a big man now, huh?” he spat.

    Charlie’s face broke into a wide grin and he began to giggle in an evil way.

    “Huh!” shouted Rick as he twisted Charlie’s arm in painful manner that did not seem to faze him. All the commotion was just loud enough to attract the attention of surrounding students. Some raced away and others stood back to watch.

    Charlie yanked his arm from Rick’s grip, pulled him close by the lapels of his preppy polo shirt and looked him straight in the eye.

    “You’re an ass and I am going to take you down.”

    Rick’s expression morphed into one of disbelief, but then contorted into one of anger. He could hear the muted whispers of the surrounding students. Charlie was challenging his honor and his putting his reputation at stake.   

    “I’ll see after school in the parking lot!” and he pushed Charlie away.

    Charlie reached out and began to straighten Rick’s skewed collar, all the while smiling from ear to ear.

    “Meet you after school” he mimicked in a derisive manner. “I’ll meet you by the oak tree in front of Gravel Hill Cemetery, say five to midnight?”

    “No. I want the whole school to see me kick your ass!”

    “What are you afraid?” he laughed “Tell you what, coward, why don’t you bring some of your boyfriends with you. They can witness the big ass kicking. Of course unless they are scared too” He turned to look at the small crowd that had now formed around them.

    “Yeah you afraid Rick?” shouted someone.

    Rick turned to face the group, his face red with rage, “Rick Rose is not afraid of anyone! I’ll see you there alone psycho!” He stared Charlie hard in the face and shoved past him.

    Charlie swaggered down the hall to his next period class. “These dumb bullies are the easiest,” he thought, “they are no challenge to me, but they do serve a purpose.”

    Charlie went home that day feeling more relaxed than he ever had. He served himself a snack of raw meat and sat down in his lazy boy to watch television. As he gnawed at the red muscle he felt unsatisfied. It was too tough and lacked the brine flavor he desired in a good piece of meat.

    Moments later there was a ruckus at the front door that stirred him. As he rose from his seat he took a moment to look out the window. Darkness was beginning to overcome the light. He felt his heart begin to race in eager anticipation.

    “Charlie I can’t find my key. Can you open the door please?”

    He flung open the door to find his mother kneeling on the floor trying to manage the grocery bags she had placed on the ground when looking for her keys. Helping her was the last thing in the world he wanted to do, but he forced himself to be kind. He lifted the bags and delivered them into the kitchen, his mother following behind.

    “Thank you Charlie.”

    “No problem mom. I am not feeling well so I am going to go to bed early.”

    “Oh okay, honey. I hope it’s nothing serious. Do you have a fever?” she seemed concerned.

    “No. Upset stomach” and with that he crept to his room, shutting the door behind him.

    As it got late he became still and listened hard for his mother in the adjacent room. He could hear her heartbeat and her every breath. When her heart began to taper and the breathing became slow and shallow he knew it was time to leave. He snuck through the front door without a noise.

    There was a chill in the air and a slight breeze, but the tress stood still as if they were afraid to move. It was fifteen minutes before midnight when he arrived at the oak tree. He stood stiff as a post alongside the tree and waited for Rick. He was thinking about how much he craved a cigarette when he heard someone approach. He came around the tree and faced Rick.

    “You ready!” yelled Rick as he buried his fist into his hand with a loud smack.

    Charlie just glared at him for a moment then seized his arm and dragged him through the gates of the cemetery. Just then Rick realized that whomever he was dealing with had incredible strength and could not have been Charlie.

    “Let go of me!” he squealed as he tugged to get away, but Charlie just laughed and dragged him kicking and screaming toward the little school house. Although it was not obvious to Rick, Charlie was still there. He sat back and let the evil take control of him because for once he enjoyed being the bully. He was delighted over the terror he saw in Rick’s eyes and his pleasure only seemed to intensify the strength of the evil.

    As they approached the school house, the top began to glow and the door became red hot. The doorknob rattled and turned then the door burst open. All Charlie could see was swirling black, like a vortex. Then John’s face appeared and it called out, but Charlie could not hear him. Rick screamed and began to beg for his life, but the evil only laughed and threw him into the blackness. The door slammed shut behind him and Charlie began to feel weak, lost his balance and fell to the hard ground. Dizziness overtook him and he felt a loss of consciousness. The evil stood over Charlie and became pensive. He liked Charlie because he was capable of wickedness and that could serve him some good.

    “Must an old, very experienced demon like me do everything?” He shook his head in disbelief, “These youth like John wish to worship the master, but then they disobey. They think it’s all rewards and good times? Straight to the top! Well, there are honors to be earned and rules to be followed. Nothing is just handed out. It must be earned in our world as it is in theirs. Timing is everything!”

    And with that he knelt down over Charlie and pulled the MP3 player out of his pocket. He tapped the screen and reviewed the music then gave a disapproving shake of the head. He chanted something under his breath, slid his hand over the smooth surface of the MP3 player and pushed the ear buds into Charlie’s ears.

    When Charlie woke is was daylight and the music was loud in his ears.

            “Please allow me to introduce myself

            Im a man of wealth and taste

            I’ve been around for a long, long year

            Stole many a man’s soul and faith”

   

    He was surprised and looked down at his MP3 player and the music menu displayed the same Rolling Stones song over and over – Sympathy for the Devil.

“What happened he thought and why am I in the cemetery?”