Story / It's Just a Room - Part 2
To read Part 1, click here.
1:32
I’ve been sitting here for a while, surprisingly bored. I found a book in the top left drawer of this desk, seems to be something about a house.
Okay, book is maybe too polite of a term, it’s more like a heap of bundled paper; there is no cover, it’s all bound together with one huge black paperclip. From the little I’ve read, it looks like it’s about a family living in a house with a strange doorway. It looks like an intimidating read, so I’m going to set it aside for a while, save it for a rainy day, when I’m inevitably even more bored.
I took a closer look at the painting too, I figure it’s here for a reason, so maybe there’s some kind of meaning in it that could help me figure out a way to get out of here.
The painting looks kind of like a jetliner, right? That kind of reminds me of my brother, Chester.
Ches left Massachusetts a few days ago heading for Seattle, it’s the last time I saw him. He was sitting impatiently in the airport terminal, glancing at his watch every once in a while. I had just come through to say goodbye, but he hadn’t noticed me yet.
Honestly, I was felt about as nervous as he looked, I hadn’t seen him in a while. I wandered over to the book store and glanced at book covers for a while, occasionally picking one up absent-mindedly, pretending to read the back. I stood there and watched my brother, who seemed just so eager to leave, so eager to flee from the herd. I didn’t hate him for it, hell I could never hate my own twin.
I found some book with an interesting cover and bought it, then I walked over and sat in the uncomfortable black plastic poor-excuse-for-a-chair next to him, putting the book in my bag.
“Chuck?” he asked, a bit surprised, probably thought he’d already gotten rid of me -- gotten rid of his family. I suppose I looked pretty stupid with some coy smirk egg across my face, and I saw him wince a little. “Charles, what are you doing here?”
“I came to say goodbye, Ches. You didn’t give me much of a chance with a voicemail,” I said, “so, goodbye brother, I’m going to miss you. Don’t forget to write, or call, or something, okay?”
He looked stunned for a moment, probably not believing I actually came to the airport. He leaned in and gave me a hug, one that said “I’m sorry,” and “Please don’t forget me.” Or maybe that’s what I was saying. But something about the hug was still cold, and distant.
I always figured it would’ve been me getting out of dodge, going somewhere vastly different, trading one coast for another. I always had my eye on Cali, and Chester always talked about the Emerald City. But we both knew, though we never said it out loud, that we wouldn’t both be able to leave Massachusetts; one of us would need to stay back, at least live close to our dad, because he’s definitely seen better days. The war shook him up quite a bit, and it’s shown on his sullen face and cracked skin. It’s been a while since he hung up his coat and boots, but in the last few years he’s started to develop ALS, so we took turns taking care of him, and both of us always dreamed of getting away, being free. I know it sounds kind of heartless to say, but who’s listening, eh Oliver?
Anyway, sometimes our aunt, Stephanie would take care of him if Chester and I were both out of town for a while, but for the most part we were always there for him.
I had really hoped it would be me who was leaving. I wasn’t mad at Chester for beating me to it, but I was maybe a bit envious. I wanted to be the one who flew the coop, and left them behind on good terms, because I just couldn’t do it anymore.
Fuck, that just sounds so evil, turning your back on your own damn family. But I wasn’t mad at Ches, if anything I think I was mad at myself.
I said goodbye to Chester, he bade me farewell, and I kept it together until I got into my car; that’s when the tears began to roll. I felt the urge to run back into the airport and snag a ticket while I still had the chance. California, here I come, off into the golden sunset, and away from the land of the decrepit and the lonely.
2:28
I keep staring at this accursed painting, wondering why the hell it’s in this room. It’s just perched on that easel like some kind of bird, waiting to prey on the first rat it sees. Am I that rat? Why is it here? Why am I here?
This has to be a joke, or a mix-up, or something, anything for Christ sake, just let me out of here!
Let me go back to my home, and my job… Let me resume my already boring enough life, come on! Please?
I’ve read a little further in that ‘book,’ it certainly is bizarre. It details the lives of a small family in Virginia after they move into a new house which is -- well, more than they bargained for. The house was dimensionally wrong on the inside, certain rooms existed that shouldn’t have existed given the spacial proportions of the house. It drove the family apart as the father, Will, slowly dwindled into an obsession with the house. Got me thinking, maybe this room is one of those dark rooms inside one of those even darker hallways.
I miss Chester, I really do. I hadn’t seem him in months. He went off to college and that was pretty much the last I saw of him. He came by for family events every once in a while, and he would help take care of dad, but sometimes even that would slip up and I’d be left to drop whatever I’m doing and drive over to my father’s house if I get that phone call that says “Dad”. I feel awful about feeling that way, it just feels like too much of a burden sometimes.
I still miss Ches, though.
2:51
There has to be a key here somewhere, I’m going to keep looking.