Disclaimer:  In first chapter.

Chapter 5

“Sir, my name is, Jarod.”  When the man flipped on the light switch, Jarod winced from the abrupt brightness. 

“What are you doing in my house?” asked the man as he walked over to Jarod.

Turning off his flashlight, Jarod answered, “Me and a…uh, friend of mine came here to see if anyone could help us.  We had some car troubles down the street from here…”  Jarod hated lying, but the less the man knew about why he was truly here the better.

Silence ensued between the two as the older man contemplated Jarod’s words before speaking up.  “Where is this so called friend of yours anyways?” the man questioned, looking around the room.

Nervously scratching his head, Jarod answered, “See, that’s the thing sir, we got separated trying to find our way out.”  Walking over to the door he just exited from, Jarod continued, “This doorway leads to a room that looks exactly like this…”

“Son, are you on drugs?  Do you know how crazy you sound right now?” the man inquired skeptically.

“Listen, I’m not on drugs.  I’m telling you the truth about these rooms,” Jarod replied back with conviction.  “Here, let me show you.  Hopefully the door will open.”  With that, Jarod turned the knob.  He let out a sigh of relief as he heard the click of the handle.  Swinging open the door, Jarod’s relief soon turned to puzzlement.  Instead of being greeted with the same spacious library that he was standing in now, he was instead greeted with a brick wall.  Slowly backing away from the door, Jarod glanced back at the older man, eyeing him warily.  “H…how did you do that?”

The older man narrowed his eyes.  “Do what?”

Looking back at the door, Jarod walked over to the doorway, patting his hand against the brick wall.  “This…” he answered, referring to the wall.  “How did you get this brick wall here so quickly?”  Jarod could see the man was clearly getting irritated with him, but at the moment he didn’t care.  He wanted answers, and he wanted them now.

“Son, I’m getting real tired of this game.”  Walking to a phone nearby, the older man said, “Now either get out of my house or I’ll call the cops.”

Ignoring the man, Jarod walked across the way to the opposite door on the other side.  When he opened that, he wasn’t the least bit surprised to find a brick wall there also.  Jarod knew he wasn’t crazy, so there could only be one logical explanation—this man was playing these so called tricks on him and Miss Parker.  And now with Miss Parker missing Jarod was becoming more worried with each passing second.  What did he do with her, he wondered as he stared daggers at the older man. 

Stalking back across the room, Jarod stood in front of the man.  “I know you’re behind these elaborate ruses, but now I’m really getting mad,” he spat angrily.  “Now, tell me where my friend is?”

The older man seemed unfazed by Jarod’s actions as a wry smile lit up his face.  Putting the phone back into the cradle, the man locked eyes with Jarod and said, “Son, I think you need to sit down…”

XXXXXX

“Jarod!  Jarod, open the damn door, this isn’t funny!” Miss Parker shouted as she continued to pound her fist against the heavy, wooden door.  Trying the door handle again, she smiled when the knob turned.  Opening the door, she was surprised to find a brick wall.  Quickly closing the door, she leaned against it and muttered under her breath, “I’ve officially lost it.”  Just to make sure she wasn’t completely out of her mind, she once again opened the door, hoping her eyes were playing tricks on her, however, when she laid her hands on the red brick she knew the wall was real. 

Miss Parker was soon startled from her thoughts when she heard the door from the opposite end open up.  Oh, she hoped it was Jarod, because she had a few choice words to share with him, and none of them were nice.  “Monkey-boy, you are so…” When Miss Parker turned around however, it wasn’t Jarod she saw, but the woman she saw earlier from the foyer.  When the woman locked eyes with Parker, she let out a startled scream.  Miss Parker instinctively went for her gun and pulled it out, pointing it at the frail looking woman.  “Don’t come any closer, or you’ll be breathing through a tube for the rest of your life,” Miss Parker threatened, her hand slightly shaking from the woman’s abrupt shriek.

The older woman stilled as she clutched her white robe close to her chest.  “I’m sorry for startling you, but I thought you were a ghost.”

Gripping the gun more tightly, Miss Parker shot back, “Well, I can rest assure you I’m not.”

The older woman stared thoughtfully at Miss Parker for a couple seconds before taking a few steps towards her.  “Ah yes, you were the one I saw down in the foyer, along with that dark headed man.  Forgive me if I frightened you earlier, but I tend to sleepwalk.”

“So…you live here?” Miss Parker questioned, never taking her eyes off the woman for she still didn’t trust her.

“Yes, I do.”  Pausing for a moment, the woman then asked, “May I ask why you’re in my house?”

“We got caught up in the storm and had to seek shelter,” Miss Parker answered, then quickly added, “We found these bodies under the…” When she waved her hand over to the area where the corpses were, she was stunned to find that the floorboards were back in place as if they’ve been undisturbed the whole time.

Mouth agape, Miss Parker glanced at the older woman.  “It looks like you’ve seen a ghost,” the woman commented, then added cryptically, “There are ghosts in this house, you know?”

Lightening flashed through the house as the older woman eyes swept around the room, making Miss Parker shudder.  Keeping her gun trained on the woman, Miss Parker asked evenly, “Who are you?”

“I’m the owner of this house, thank you very much,” the woman replied back dryly.

Then it finally dawned on Miss Parker.  “You…you’re a ghost,” she stated with disbelief.  “You’re the one who’s been playing all those tricks on us.”

The woman began to walk towards Miss Parker.  Acting on impulse, Parker pointed her gun in the air and fired a warning shot.  The older woman once again halted in her tracks.  “You know, I don’t appreciate people shooting guns in my house likes it’s the Wild West,” the woman chided.  “I should call the cops and have you arrested for trespassing and damage of property.  I don’t like these hostile tactics.”

“Lady, believe me, I haven’t even came close to being hostile…yet,” Miss Parker replied back.  “But, I’m not going to be some whacked out game piece in this sick little game of yours.”  Clicking off the safety of her gun Miss Parker growled out slowly, “Now, tell me where my friend is?”

XXXXXX

Sitting down on one of the leather chairs, Jarod leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he began to rub his forehead.  So many thoughts were running through his mind as he tried to get a grasp on what was going on around him.

“Do you drink?” asked the older man beside him.

“No.”

“Do you take drugs?”

“No,” answered Jarod, glancing up at the man.

Still keeping his eyes on him, the older man sat down in the other chair beside him.  “Are you overcome by the impulse to make everyone believe you?”  When Jarod didn’t answer, the man continued, “I work in the area of mental health, mainly the area of schizophrenia.”

“So, you think I’m crazy and spouting at the mouth?” Jarod questioned, becoming defensive at the man’s words.

“Hey, if it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck, chances are that it’s a duck,” the man smirked.

Shooting up from his chair, Jarod stalked over to the nearby door and threw it open.  “So, you’re telling me, in your expert opinion, that I’m making this all up…including this brick wall.”

Pushing himself up from his seat, the man ambled over to Jarod.  “Son, I’ve seen it once, I’ve seen it a thousand times…”

Folding his arms across his chest, Jarod narrowed his eyes at the man.  “And what’s that?”

Clasping his hands behind his back, the older gentleman walked over to the fireplace.  Resting his elbow on top of the mantle he answered, “You’re a lonely man that’s practically screaming for social interaction.  Who’s to say that this conversation isn’t a figment of your imagination?”

“I’m not lonely,” Jarod whispered out softly, averting his eyes from the man’s knowing gaze.  “I do have family out there…and…and they’re expecting me for Christmas.”

The man sadly shook his head from side to side as he walked back over to Jarod.  “Stop lying to yourself.  You know there’s no family out there waiting for you.  Loneliness is the only company you have, and for some people, they have to create these imaginary worlds to cope with the solitary one they live in.”

Jarod abruptly turned around, glaring at the annoying man.  “You make me sound like I’m some crazy, pathetic fool who doesn’t know any better.”  Angrily digging into his back pocket, Jarod pulled out his wallet.  Flipping it open, he showed pictures of people he met through out the years while on his pretends.  “Then how do you explain all these people, huh?  They’re my friends, so your whole theory goes right out the window,” he spat out lividly.

Taking the wallet from Jarod’s hands, the older man studied the photos before him.  Pulling some of them out, he looked on the back of each picture and read them out loud.  “Julie—Seattle, Mark—Baton Rouge, Jesse—Santa Fe, Erica—Des Moines…”  Glancing up at Jarod he said, “Well, I see you travel around a lot.  Why is that?”

“It’s a need to know basis,” Jarod replied back coolly.

“Ah, I see,” the man smiled sardonically as he perused through Jarod’s pictures.  “Now what’s this…” the older man commented as he pulled out a photograph that Jarod knew all to well.  The man’s eyebrows rose as he let out a small sound of appreciation.  “Well, she’s a pretty little lady.”  Flipping the photograph over he said, “M. Parker—Blue Cove.”

Standing beside the man, Jarod said, “She’s the one that’s here with me.”

“So you say,” the man commented, clearly not believing Jarod.  Handing Jarod back his wallet he said, “I think I understand you better now.”

“And how’s that?” Jarod inquired as he put his wallet back in his pocket.

“Those pictures in your wallet just prove my point.  Those aren’t friends; they’re just acquaintances, well, except maybe the picture of Blue Cove.”

“And how did you come up with that assumption?”

Smiling, the older man shook his finger at him an answered, “I see you travel around a lot, so I’m guessing you’re running away from something.  I bet you believe there is some secret organization out there that is chasing you around the country, just so your life is more interesting then the average Joe.”

“Well, the reason why I believe there is a secret organization out there chasing me is because they’re truly is one out there.  This place kidnapped me from my parents when I was young.  The lady from the Blue Cove picture was a childhood friend of my mine, but now things are different between us.”

Sighing, Jarod rubbed the weariness from his face.  He hadn’t planned on telling this man about his past, but he couldn’t stop himself.  He was tired of this man analyzing his life, but more than anything, he hated that the man was also right--to a degree anyway. 

Staring at the older man he said, “The whole car trouble story was a…lie.  I escaped from this place called the Centre eight years ago.  The powers that be put my old, childhood friend on the pursuit team.  Tonight, she saw me at a store parking lot and the chase was on, so that’s how we ended up here.”  Walking past the intrigued man, Jarod plopped down in one of the leather chairs.  “I just want to find her and get her out of here.  There’s someone very important she needs to get to tonight.”

“Hmm, very interesting,” the man muttered to himself, rubbing his chin.  “You care for this woman’s well being even though it’s her job to bring you back to this so called Centre place.”  Chuckling to himself, the man said, “Son, you must be a masochist too.”

Clenching his jaw, Jarod replied back evenly, “I’m not a masochist.  I’m a human being who cares for the welfare of another human being.  The only thing it makes me is human.”

“And crazy,” the older man laughed, slapping his knee.  “I bet you feel this overpowering need to save her from herself, am I right?”  When Jarod remained silent, the man continued, “Let me guess, you send her these warped little presents to her home and work, hoping to get a reaction out of her.  Some are sentimental, but most are just to rile her up.  It’s like when a young boy likes a young girl, but doesn’t want her to know, so he torments her, just like you do.”

Putting his head in his hands, Jarod mumbled out, “These gifts I give her are to help lead her to the truth.  If I told her things without any proof, she wouldn’t believe me.  I’m just trying to help her see clearly through the web of lies that her father and the Centre has weaved around her all her life.”

Still grinning, the man said, “Let me guess, I bet you call her on the phone, probably late at night to supposedly warn her of the dangers in her life but the real reason you call her is because you feel that the two of you are one and the same.  You both are just two lonely souls who lead these tragic, pathetic lives.  You both hide behind these so called ‘brick walls’ to protect yourselves from the one thing you both yearn for day in and day out.”

“And what’s that,” Jarod whispered out softly.

“Love,” the older man replied back simply.  Getting up from his chair, the man opened the door.  Watching the man walk through the doorway, Jarod was surprised to see no brick wall.  Taking a few steps into the room, the older man turned on his heels.  Pointing at the open doorway he pointed out, “Brick wall?”  Then tapping his finger to the side of his head he said, “Or brick wall?”  Grinning from ear to ear, the older man spread out his arms and added, “Go ahead, change your life.”

Getting up from his chair, Jarod shifted on his feet uneasily, wondering if he should follow the man’s advice.  However, seeing that there were no other options on getting out, Jarod shrugged his shoulders and walked towards the open doorway.  Instead of stepping into a new life, the only thing Jarod stepped into was a brick wall.

XXXXXX

To Be Continued…