The return of the bogeyman
About ten years ago I was still living with my mom, and my life had kind of gotten into a bit of a rut. I spent much of my time working in my shop in my mom’s basement, though I did have a couple of short lived jobs outside of the house that I got laid off from. I felt like my life was going nowhere, and my future was uncertain. My mom had reverse mortgaged the house after my dad died, so I knew that if anything happened to my mom, I’d likely be homeless. But early in 2014, things began to change. It was still in late winter but some sort of major upheaval was beginning to take place in me. Much as I am doing now, I was drawn to go back over certain things that happened In my past. One of those things was that incident that happened on the 7th of July in 1987. I have no idea what brought all of that back to the forefront. But it still felt like an event for which I still did not have full closure. The bogeyman and his lair were still right next door, as they had always been since that fateful day. Though for some reason I began feeling a strong need to fully close that dark chapter of my life. I wanted to go and talk to Pete really badly, but I was afraid. Afraid to stir up the past, and afraid of how he might react. I wasn’t sure what would happen if instead I ran into Lilly either. As winter turned into spring, and the grass began to grow, I’d see Pete out mowing his yard. But how to approach him? I had no idea of doing the exact thing that got me attacked so long ago, as in taking a walk thru his yard and going up to his house. That was verboten. I wondered what would happen if I got into my mom’s car and just drove around and went up his driveway, as would a “normal” person. Spring turned into summer and I wrestled with this issue often. It weighted heavily on my mind. But there was something else going on.
As I was rather bored just working and hanging around with my mom, and my best friend had passed some four years ago, I felt the need for some sort of social activity. So I joined up with a local science fiction fan group that met once a month at a nearby restaurant. I just was hoping I might find someone to hang out with, or just to do something to get out of the house into the non-virtual world. Well, the first time I went I met a man who intrigued me. We found we had some common interests, even outside of our sci-fi likes. This first meet up was in July, that very same month, and not long after the anniversary of the attack. As I said goodbye to the man, I found myself looking forward to the next meeting in August, and I was hoping he would be there. All the while I was still struggling with how to finally have closure and be able to talk to Pete (and hopefully Lilly as well). But what happened next was totally bizarre, a downright insane rendezvous that I thought for sure was meant to happen.
Around this same time, there was a primary election coming up soon, which are generally held in the summer time in my state. I thought little of it, other than that I would take my mom over with me and we’d go vote. As always, the voting was held at my old high school, which in and of itself brings back a whole slew of bad memories. I hated walking its foyer and halls, and going into the gym where the voting tables were set up. But the reasons for that I’ll save for another time. There was a small line as my mom and I headed towards the gym, and I remember just standing there thinking about how I hated my time in high school. Then suddenly I saw him…no, wait, it wasn’t him, or was it? My stomach dropped and I felt my hair stand on end as I stared at this one election worker. There was no way that could be Pete, no way…but the old saying about never forgetting a face tends to be true. What was he doing here? I mean, besides the obvious. Over the intervening decades, Pete and Lilly were essentially recluses, seldom interacting with or even speaking to anyone in the neighborhood. What on earth would draw them out into the open like this? The short line moved quickly, too fast for me to be able to really think. My mom was oblivious, and as she was in front of me she headed towards the next worker who was available. There were also some voters waiting behind us as well. And as my turn approached, it was Pete who was available and he motioned me over. My legs were about to turn to jelly, and my heart was beating so hard I could have swore everyone around me must have been able to hear it. Surely he’d recognize me when I gave my name, which I had to give in order to be checked in to vote. I have heard of voter intimidation before, but this really took the cake! This situation was not unlike my first unexpected crossing of the Key Bridge, where I could have turned around and gone back. But had I done so, I would not have reached my desired location. I wanted to cast my vote and so I pressed on. I approached the tables, with my heart in my throat and my tongue like a piece of cotton, and I gave him my name. He barely glanced at me and looked down thru his list, and calmly pulled and handed me my paperwork to present at the next station where I’d get my ballot. He treated me no different from the person before me, no funny look, no evil stare, no sign of recognition at all. Could that really be Pete, or maybe just a convincing doppelganger? Could I have been mistaken? So I went and cast my vote, and once my mom and I were done, we left. I said nothing to my mom, as she was ignorant of the drama that went on there that afternoon. She was checked in by someone else so she would not have seen Pete anyway. I did not see Lilly there (or anyone who could have plausibly been her).
Later that night I could not stop thinking about whether or not I had really seen my nemesis at the polls that day. I just had to find a way to go and talk to Pete, and/or Lilly. It was eating me up inside all the more so. One evening I had heard Pete out mowing his lawn, and it was fairly cool that day, not at all unlike that terrible night. It was still July, and the flaming glow of the sunset spread across the western sky, right behind the house. I heard him pull the mower into his shed behind the house, and that was my cue. It was now or never. I was every bit as scared as I was at the polls, perhaps even more so as there would be no one else around to help me, as was the case in 1987.