Chapter 1 - Part 4

After he caught up the rent, Howell went back into the one bedroom apartment and headed straight toward the balcony.  The sliding door was left permanently open, since closing it was near impossible, and instead some ratty drapes acted as a doorway.  The rail-less metal balcony was pretty much the only room that Howell had, but he rather liked it.

Even though the sunlight no longer glared through the glass that surrounded the city, the reflection of the city lights off of the ceiling made it light enough to see without too much trouble.  Howell opened the trunk that rested on the balcony and pulled out the pad that served as his makeshift bed.  His entire life possessions were in that trunk, including his money.

Howell popped open the small case that held his savings.  He quickly sorted the coins that he had collected that day.  He actually got to add a five dollar glass coin to the mix along with several two dollar coins.  As he was putting the case away, his ears caught a sound coming from the apartment next door.

Looking at a very uninspiring view of building after building, Howell smiled as he listened to Lange wrestling with the sliding door of his apartment.  When the door began to creak open, the irritated grumbling of Lange could be heard.  Howell looked across the balcony and to the neighboring apartment.  The old man was using his cane to leverage the door open.

“Landlord still hasn’t fixed it, Lange?” Howell asked.

Howell looked up and smiled at his next door neighbor.  Lange was old enough to be Howell’s grandpa.  He was also the only one who called Howell by his last name.  The old man had even insisted that Howell do the same.  Lange was not much of a talker, but he was an expert complainer.

“That lazy good fer nothin!” Lange said as he finally forced the door open.  “Next time I see him I’m takin this cane of mine and shoving it where he won’t forget to neglect his tenants.”

Howell laughed.  It never mattered if Lange stayed silent the rest of the night.  The old man was never a bother when he was quiet, but he was pretty good company when he was in the mood.  That had not been the case for the past few months, though.  Lange was getting more and more irritated.  It was actually the reason why Howell had not mentioned to Lange that school was starting tomorrow.

After a few moments of silence, Howell decided to just finish up his summer reading.  He swung his legs around so they dangled over the edge of the balcony.  At one point in his life, the balcony did have railings.  Now the broken railings were used as a sort of bridge that spanned the gap between the two neighboring apartments.

Lange started grumbling about shoddy apartments and then being too old to move out.  When Howell had last been home, Lange had started making a lot of comments about being too old and too tired to do anything anymore.  Lange banged his cane against the remnants of his balcony rail and it bounced out of his hand.  The plastic stick made a spectacular flip as it clattered onto the makeshift bridge that spanned the balconies.

“I’ve got it,” Howell said as the cane finally settled closest to him.

He crouched down and dark purple flashed out of the corner of his eye.  Howell looked up at Lange, but the old man seemed unfazed.  Then the teen noticed the outline of color seemed to be hovering around the old man.  The color reminded Howell of dingy, black light.  Of course it was debatable as to whether he was actually seeing anything in the first place.  Seeing things was probably just a result of his headache that was now pulsing against his skull

Howell shook his head and grabbed the cane.  As he strode across the makeshift bridge, Howell kept his eyes on the purple splotch that seemed to cling to Lange’s back.  The old man kept rubbing his left shoulder, a habit he had started several months ago, but now it seemed like Howell could see the cause.  The more he stared, the harder his head throbbed but the more defined the color became.

It looked alive, but unlike any creature Howell had ever seen before.  The creature did not seem to be entirely solid and looked a little like a fanged piece of fabric.  A piece of fabric with fangs sunk into the old man’s shoulder as its tiny claws hung on.  It did not look dangerous, more like a bad patch job really, but Howell’s mind throbbed and just being near the creature seemed to make his hair stand on end.

“Just give it here and leave me be,” Lange snapped as he held his hand out.

Howell obediently handed the cane back, but he could not resist confirming his own insanity.  He took a step after Lange and Howell could feel every sense in him screaming at him to not be stupid.  He reached for the creature anyway.  To his surprise, he grabbed it and ripped it off Lange.  The cane clattered on the floor again, but Howell found himself focused entirely on the creature.

It felt real.  It squirmed in being caught and the soft, black light glow that seemed to emit from it intensified.  Suddenly its head snapped around and its fangs sank into his left hand.  Fire coursed into his body and Howell dropped to his knees, fighting the urge to throw up.  The creature fared worse though.  It gave a strangled hiss, like a final fight for survival.  Then its glow disappeared in small black flames and what was once a shadowy fanged creature was now a small handful of sand.

“Think my hearin’ aids actin’ up again.  Oh, did I drop my cane on you?” Lange asked, his eyes brighter.  The old man grunted as he bent down.  “Getting’ too old for this.  Just bending seems to exhaust me.  But it looks like you got yerself a nasty bruise there.”

Howell looked down at his hand and felt dizzy at the double vision.  He could see the bruising, but he could faintly see two gaping holes.  Howell felt violently ill, like he was having an allergic reaction to the creature’s bite.  If he was just seeing things, they were very realistic hallucinations.  There was an actual bruise where the creature had bit his hand.

“Well, you now have a story to tell your classmates,” Lange said as Howell shakily stood up.  “You were attacked by an old man’s cane.”

For a moment, Howell had though that maybe Lange had seen the creature, but the old man gave no indication that he had seen anything.  Howell tried to say something but his whirling headache overwhelmed him with nausea.  Lange was grumbling about being too old to bend without creaking as he told Howell to wait on the balcony for a moment.  Howell used the moment to try to clear his head a little, but his head throbbed along with his hand.

“I ‘pologize for being a grouch to you,” Lange said as he came back out.  “Lazy landlord deserves it, but not you.  I’ve just been so tired lately, but I’m feelin’ better now that my balcony friend is back in time for school.  Which, speakin’ of school, I just realize I forgot to give you my tuition help.”

Howell managed to keep his hand steady as he took the small glass jar of coins from his old neighbor.  He thanked Lange and carefully made his way back to his balcony.  As Lange started rambling on about what school was like back when he was a kid, Howell collapsed onto his mat.  Lange’s voice faded off as Howell’s thoughts turned to the creature.  Whatever it was, migraine, hallucination, or real, he was going to have to keep it to himself until he figured out what was going on.