Knock (part 3)
More knocks. And a man. Meet Brady.
If you haven’t read the other parts, please go and do so. Or don’t, I can’t make you.
The clouds had dissipated and the stars sparkled in the sky, pinning the veil of twilight to the heavens. Darkness had spread across the land, and the glacial mirror just metres from my doorstep reflected the galaxy above.
Ruby Eyes had gone. Now it was just a thick blanket of darkness. In amongst the snow.
The wind had stopped and silence roared through the air. Filling everything. The spruce trees, their branches swayed with not even whisper. Flakes of snow drifted down, littering the ground, spreading themselves out, covering tracks and roads and paths. And footprints. Yes, I am certain of it. There’d be no footprints from Ruby Eyes.
My fingers trembled on the silk of the curtain. My unblinking right eye staring out into the growing darkness. Not the darkness of before. The storm brought darkness. The cloud covered-smothering of light. No. This was night darkness. The daily darkness.
Darkness that brings the cold and chill that seeps through every crack it can to target bones and joints. The kind that aches. Sends chills through your very soul. I pulled myself away from the window. Tearing my eye away from the outside. Like when your warm tongue gets stuck to an icicle. Part of me was left imprinted on that window. Still staring outside. But I couldn’t stop the chill that was waltzing its way through my blood and dancing in my marrow.
The fire eased it. And just like it seeped in, I could feel the cold being drawn from every pore in my skin. Like it was a ghost being exorcised. My eyes closed and I was back here. Feeling the warmth prickle my skin. The gentle crack and spit of the fire soothing my mind like a nursery rhyme. Oaky smoke drifting listless through the cabin.
And then it rocked me. Split me. Right to the core. Ringing through my ears, like I’d just been smacked over the head with a stainless steel pan.
A knock.
Not a gentle rapping or tapping at my cabin door.
But a hinge rattling, desperate soaked knock.
Thump
Thump
Thump.
“There’s no one there,” I said.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. It’s just the wind.”
“And it’s just you here.”
I nodded. And I closed my eyes and ears to the door. And just listened to the fire speaking to me in its croaky, crackly voice.
And the drum-like beat in my chest, whose cadence had stiffened and slowed.
And the knocking on my door once more. The wind picked up and began to howl outside.
“What? I thought no one was there,” I said, snapping my eyes open. Blood rushed to my cheeks and my scalp prickled.
A soft voice called from outside.
“Is - is anyone in there? Hello?”
“That’s not you, is it?” I asked.
“No, not me.” I answered. And I shrugged, and made my way back to the curtain. Peeling back the folded layer, I stuck my eyeball back to the frozen icicle window. It was still warm.
On my doorstep, stood a man. He was short, well, shorter than me. Curled tangles of deep red fell from beneath his beanie. He shivered and his arms were coiled around his body. His hand reached out and knocked on the door once more, and his body shivered more violently. The breeze kicked up outside and snow blew like dust on the wind.
I stayed still. Eye frozen to the window. Unblinking and staring.
I couldn’t hear him sigh, but his whole body seemed to shrink. His shoulders slumped. Defeated. And he turned to walk away, still viciously rubbing his arms with his hands, meandering down the snow covered path. His footprints were gentle and soft in the snow.
He turned back, and locked his eyes on mine. Through the window.
“Hey!” he said, and rushed toward the window. His beard was covered in icicles and snow. And he tapped on the window.
“Hey! Please. It’s - it’s bloody freezing out here. I - I got lost from my buddies. I’m sure they’ve gone and just left me here. Please,” he said through chattering teeth.
“What do you think?”
“I think - no.”
“Hm.”
“What are you saying? I can’t hear you.”
“He could be dangerous.”
“So could I.”
“That’s true,” I said. “Alright, I’ll open the door for you,” and I nodded my head to the door.
The wind tried to suck the door from its hinges, and I dug my feet into the ground, sliding toward the outside, as though it were a blackhole dragging everything it could into the empty nothingness beyond.
“Come. On. In,” I grunted, still tugging on the door handle.
“Thank you,” the man said, sliding inside with ease.
With a heavy effort, I pulled the door back from the nothingness and it closed with a thump and a click, and I fell back, panting soft vapour to the roof of my cabin. Frozen sweat clinging to my forehead.
“Thank you kindly,” the man said, standing over me, with his hand reaching out. I recoiled and covered my face. I peaked through the gap in my arms. His face twisted with concern, and his hand was still outstretched. Open palm, offered to me. I sighed and grasped it, and he hauled me to my feet.
“Mighty storm we’re havin’ out there, wouldn’t you say?”
“Right,” I said. “My grandpa used to say a storm like this would rip the house from the foundations.”
“Might well do,” he said. “I’m George.”
“Brady,” I said.
“Nice to meet you Brady. Mighty kind of you to let me in. Without a doubt I’d have been done for if you hadn’t let me in. Didn’t you hear me knockin’?”
“I’ve heard a lot of things tonight,” I said. “How long were you knocking for?”
“Oh, less than a minute, I thought this was empty. Til I saw you in the window.”
“So you weren’t knocking before?”
“No,” he said, “why do you ask?”
“Like I said, heard a bit tonight.”
“The wind’s mighty strong out there,” he said, warming his hands over the fire. “I’m sure it was just that. Ooh that feels good.” I grunted a reply, and after a few moments of silence, he broke it.
“Thank you again, Brady. Like I said, I’d have been done for out there,” he said, a smile flickering on his face like a faulty light bulb.
And something else. Like a red flash in his eyes.
“Must have been the fire,” I muttered, and he turned his eyes to the fire once more, where he sat down and nodded off.