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Episode 095
"Darkness,
"In the darkness, everything comes back."
"In the
darkness, all the old tales of childhood return. In the darkness, the
boogey man is real. In the darkness, all your fears are real. Once more,
the darkness becomes your foe. Instantly, the darkness returns to the
powerful state it once was. Long ago, people learned to fear darkness. But
the modern era lost it's respect for the age-old foe of the children of
the sun."
"But when the
darkness sweeps back in, the memories within the soul, no matter how far
displaced, by however many countless generations, suddenly remember all
too vividly the justifiable fear of the darkness."
The words echoed in Aaron's mind. They came to him constantly, the
rememberance of the darkness and the warning he had once given in a
bright, crowded auditorium. His psychology masters had depended on that
presentation.
But now, the
darkness was not a hypothetical realm of psychological debate. Now, the
darkness was real. Real and right before him. Now, that proverbial
darkness was evident no matter where he looked, what he said, what he did,
how he wished, or any other act of a desperate man.
Now, Aaron was
trapped in the darkness that he had learned long ago to fear.
The university walk ways were bright and sunny.
Alan was not.
A late-night
hang-over lingered in the college guitarist's mind as he stumbled down
through the isolated brick walkways that formed the veins of the
university. He held his head, trying to fight off the pain of the world,
but it kept coming back, more and more potent.
Unable to fight
any more, Alan stepped over to the side of the brick path and leaned
against a tree. He took a deep breath, using his left hand to steady his
teetering body. "Come on." He said to himself, struggling to
stand up. "Come on, man." He stood up finally, his bleery eyes
fighting to keep some semblance of cohesion.
Three men stared
back at him.
"Hello."
He said with some trouble. He looked back the way he had come, then back
to the three men. "Is there something wrong, guys?" He asked,
his spine chilling painfully. "I mean, if I'm in your spot, I'll
move." The words just seemed to make him even more afraid. The edge
of the hang-over slowly disappeared as his body began to get as frightened
as his mind. He glanced past the three men, but the crowd of college
students was paying no attention to the distant walkway detached by the
giant library and the parking lot.
"Alan Dunston?"
Asked the middle man.
"Uh,
yeah?" He rolled uncertainly out of his mouth.
The crowd beyond the library went on with it's usual mid-day,
between class activities. Frisbees were thrown. Drinks drunk. Food eaten.
Conversations talked. All the while, everyone in the large, brick
courtyard was totally oblivious to the young guitarist in the corner
fighting for his life.
Marilyn waited in the doorway as the class wrapped up. In the
sweltering heat just outside the windows, the world waited. The students
were obviously anxious, but nearly so much as their teacher. The well-aged
Edgar stood at the head of the classrom, professionally hiding his disdain
for the remaining few moments of the class.
"And thus,
the reason that Tolstoy continues on with this meandering of philosophical
. . ." Edgar dropped his books suddenly, his shoulders slumping.
"Screw it guys. Just go. Go home. I'll see you on Monday."
The classroom
cheered for less than a fourth of a minute, then the students began to
quickly gather up their materials and rush out the door. Marilyn was
nearly bowled over as they came running out, but she moved to the side of
the door and waited. Like an early April shower, the outpour was intense
initially, but almost immediately, it faded away into nothingness.
Marilyn turned the
sharp corner to come inside the room, where Edgar was gathering up his
things, his overly long umbrella in the corner of the room.
"Hey."
Marilyn said, walking respetfully into the room towards the professor.
“Edgar, I need to ask you a personal question.” She said, trying to
get straight to the point.
“This is an
empty classroom.” The older gentleman said, motioning to the sterile
room with a book in each hand. He stuffed them rather aggressively into
his backpack. “If you feel comfortable here, then I’m fine with it.
Alternatively, my office's on the other side of campus.”
"Then why do
you teach over here?" She asked in bewilderment.
"Better
parking." Edgar answered with a smile as he finished packing up his
pack. He snapped the last quick-snap and stood up, his suit gleaming in
cleanliness. "How can I help you?"
"I, I need to
ask you a question." She said, drawing an aimless design on the
surface of Edgar's desk. "Um, I actually need to ask this to someone
else, but I'm just, well . . ."
"Out with
it." Edgar said paternally, an amused smile on his face.
“Have you ever
thought about Ruwani and me, together?” Marilyn asked without looking up
from the desk.
Edgar blinked at
her for a moment. Almost unconsciously, he glanced up at the doorway of
the classroom. “You mean dating?” The older man asked, one eyebrow up
as he swallowed.
“No.” She
clarified. “I mean, you know, together.”
"Together
together?"
"Together
together."
“Oh.” Edgar
said, his head rolling back with his understanding. "I see." He
nodded. "Marilyn, why are you asking me?"
"Insight into
the male mind?" She offered weakly with an even weaker smile.
Edgar sighed,
chuckling a few breaths. "My wife didn't put you up to the this, did
she?" Edgar asked. Marilyn shook her head. "Sydney?" He
pressed? Marilyn shook her head again. "Ah." Edgar nodded.
"This is purely for your own . . . 'insight'?" Marilyn nodded.
"Okay."
Edgar said, moving around the desk to stand next to Marilyn. He sat on the
edge of the desk, crossing his arms as the college girl turned to watch
his response. “Let me answer that question like this.” He finally said
without embarrassment. “If I was to admit to that I had, I would be
compromising my position as faculty.” He looked at Marilyn, a wry smile
on his weathered face. "If I was to say that I hadn't, however, I
would be lying." |