IslandGirl892: Ah, I didn't see your previous review – I'm so glad you bought the original book! It's definitely in my list of top ten novels: short, exciting, deep. Can't get much better than that. :)
Thanks for reviewing, guys! Means a ton. :D
Because I'm determined to keep my deadline of the 15th, chapters are going to get pretty spammy again. Life happened so I fell behind. I'll have to write at least two a day, so expect lots of updates! (Knowing how I update, it'll be more like… six on one day. But hey, I'm trying here.)
On the Road
The attic was still as death.
Like he was entering a graveyard, Gill tip toed across the creaking floorboards. He didn't dare look at the dark stain or smears on the ground. With determination in his eyes, Gill faced the portrait.
He tore the sheet away. As it lazed to his feet, his eyes took in the painting. It was the kind of portrait that followed one across a room. The eyes seemed to gravitate… To the very core. Gill shuddered and glared at it. The hideous reflection of himself. The mockery in the smile. The other-worldly light in the eyes. He hated it.
Yet it was all he wanted.
With a heave, Gill shoved the portrait away from its moorings in the wall. Dust fell from behind it and spiders fled their uprooted home in the backing. Gill got behind the portrait and pushed out. The bolt he had used years ago to keep it in place broke and the portrait flew forward. The wire snapped, and it was free. It hit the floor with an enormous BANG.
No one could see it. No one could find it. No one could ever know…
Gill glared down at the black backing of the heavily gilded frame. Cobwebs and spider nests were gathered in the pockets and corners of the edges. After ten years in the attic, the black paper started to curl and wave.
He sat on his knees on top of the portrait, pulling the paper back and away. A layer of cardboard came next and a few more spiders. A thin piece of wood appeared with a hollow box. The canvas itself.
Try as he might, Gill could not unhinge the fabric from the wood. He couldn't even tear it. Looking around in frustration, his eyes locked on the blood stained knife. It was still resting on the floor where Toby had dropped it.
Gill ignored the tremors as he reached out and held it tightly in his fist. It was still sticky.
He swallowed and pried the fabric away from its wooden prison. The knife slid easily along the sides. The canvas' edges frayed at the touch of sharp metal as Gill went all the way around. He tossed the knife aside, having finished the quick work, and removed the wood.
Hot with the work, Gill removed his vest and tie. Rolling up his sleeves, he kicked the heavy frame away and pulled the painting out from underneath.
He didn't want to look at it. It was face down, so it wasn't an issue until he started to quickly roll it. The varnish did its job well, and the paint didn't crack as it was tightly folded around. Gill met the edge and saw the last of the dark background of the portrait before it disappeared in the white cylinder. Using some spare leather twine from the back of the frame, Gill firmly tied both ends and stared at his finished work.
Gill didn't want to have to carry it, so he fashioned a shoulder strap out of the torn sheet. Standing, Gill looked over his clothes. The blue button up he wore was simple enough, but his slacks and loafers were another story. He could be mistaken for a school teacher, but Gill Gray couldn't hide easily under watching eyes. He would have to make bigger changes.
Trunks and boxes littered the attic. Gill opened each, digging through papers and books and old toys and blankets. The darkness was difficult to see through, but Gill didn't dare bring a light to the attic in the off chance it might alert neighbors someone was snooping around in the unholy hours of the night.
Squinting at an open travelling trunk, Gill finally found some of his father's old clothes. He changed into a baggy pair of khakis that were much too big for him. He worked his way into a pair of black boots and tucked the pants into them to make up for their excessive length. He didn't bother tucking in his shirt.
Gill breathed in the musty scent of the old attic as he looked about him. With some money in his new pockets and the portrait strapped to his back, he was ready. There was nothing left to see. Only the past.
Gill Gray shut the hatch and descended the stairs for the last time.
The sun struck the early morning landscape of Harmonica Town. It washed over the ocean in dozens of colors in hues of pink, orange, and gold. The sky blew up in a dazzling sunrise of red. Clouds seemed to stay still, soaking in the magnificent atmosphere.
The day was like any other. Except when all the people awoke, Gill Gray would not be in their number.
Hamilton woke in quite a good mood. He hummed to himself as he prepared his morning coffee, keeping his eye on his son's study door for when he would emerge. He couldn't help but be excited – as he was every day – for the next tomorrow. When his wife would finally come home.
The bread popped out of the toaster, browned to perfection. Hamilton flipped the eggs onto two empty plates and assembled the family breakfast at the table. He even added a fresh vase of flowers for the centerpiece.
"Such a lovely morning!" He mused to himself, sitting down. He brushed his hands together in anticipation for his food and scooted himself closer. His small eyes looked up with slight worry at Gill's door.
Hamilton supposed he could wait until his son came out. The clock proudly chimed the eight o'clock hour. Soon, it was fifteen past. Gill should be up by now. He'll come out any minute.
At half past eight, Gill's father started to fidget. There were not many things he could remember in his old age, but routine always struck a chord. When the clock chimed nine, Hamilton was troubled. Gill was never one to sleep in much. And he always had breakfast with his father promptly at eight in the morning. Every morning.
More time passed. The eggs were long cold and inedible. The toast was soggy in the middle from the melted butter and hard as rock around the crusts. Hamilton bit his lip as he stared down at his full plate.
Putting on a merry face, he called towards the closed door. "Gill? Son? Breakfast!"
The house greeted him with silence.
Hamilton blinked in the quiet. He couldn't describe the heavy weight on his heart, but he felt very alone. The last time he felt this way was when Gill decided to go to school across the sea. Even after he begged him not to. Go inland. Anywhere. Boats are dangerous.
An image of the empty ocean horizon appeared from the depths of his mind. A warm sunrise in spring. He held young Gill's hand and stood on the pier. The wood was slick with salt water, and the wind was blowing hard.
She didn't show. Days later, boards of wood along the beach. Tangles of kelp. More wood. And sheets of tin. Like the siding of a boat…
Tears were in Hamilton's eyes as he relived the memory. He quickly stood. "Gill? Gill!"
When no answer came, Hamilton went to the door. The same anxiety in his steps as all those years ago. The same desperation in his voice. "Gill?"
The study was empty. Gill's bed and bath were empty. The house was silent.
Hamilton stood in the empty study with confusion written in his features. Gill was home, wasn't he? Where else would he go…?
A large leather suitcase on his desk was strewn with items of all sorts. Clothes, shoes, books. Hamilton looked at the disarray in wonder. Where could he go? If he packed… but didn't take anything?
The little man moved about the room, touching different things as if he could find answers with his fingertips. The room almost appeared ransacked. He paused at the bookshelf and at the table, empty but for a small vase without flowers. The candy dish was full on his desk.
The mantle above the fireplace was dusty when Hamilton's fingers dragged across it. His eyes locked on the picture of his wife.
Without his son, Hamilton couldn't suppress his despair. He couldn't forget the past. He could only relive it – face it – but without any hope for the future. A future alone. Of solitary old age without her…
Hamilton cried.
Gill stood before the gate of Horn Ranch. It was the end territory of Castanet. The peninsula ended just past these wooden posts. The dirt road seemed to go on forever into the distance. And Gill had never come this way.
When he went to school, Gill crossed the sea by ferry boat. He lived in the harbor town that nearly mirrored Harmonica Town in everything except its college campus. When his education was complete, he took the ferry boat back. And that was as far away from home he had ever been.
The sun was rising. It was now or never.
And I cannot go back…
Gill tugged the portrait higher on his shoulder. He shut his eyes tight and took his first step past the fence. The door clanged behind him. He took another brave foot forward. And then another. It became a pattern. The dirt road wound underneath him as he furiously focused on the movement of his feet. So he didn't have look back.
Even when his boots chafed his feet and his legs grew heavy, Gill continued to walk. Sleep buzzed around his eyes like a pesky fly as he fought to keep his eye lids from falling. The only sound that accompanied him was the jingle of coins in his pocket and the stomps of his weary feet.
Soon, a forest appeared ahead of him. The path went two ways. Gill tried to calculate the bending and twisting of the road to determine which path would lead him further away from Castanet. In the end, the temptation to turn around was too great and he chose the right path before he could change his mind.
The path was wide and clean. The branches that hung low were the only issue. Leaves tickled his face and bugs fell in his hair. Twigs snapped off as he passed.
The sun rose to its zenith at noon. The constant canopy provided by the trees blocked out most of the heat. Gill rested once in the shade and pressed on.
Whenever the path would divide, Gill would always take the one given the least amount of attention. If a path was paved – he didn't take it. If cobblestones appeared under his feet, he would turn back and try a different path. He took deer paths and passed through brush and tree trunks on a trail of his own. Anything to keep him away from the city. Or a town. Anything that resembled what he was once used to and comforted by.
When night fell, Gill stopped. He dropped behind a thick oak tree and leaned against it. The dead leaves were still damp from the snow of winter. Though it was uncomfortable, Gill didn't remove the portrait from his back. He would rather crush it with his weight than chance losing it.
During the night, Gill slept. From his previous hours of exercise and exhaustion, he didn't have trouble falling into unconsciousness. But he dreamed horrible dreams full of blood and knives and wicked smiles. He would awake multiple times, fearing someone was standing over him. The shadows all looked like gentlemen wearing top hats with forked tails. Glinting eyes. Pointed teeth.
Dawn came early. Or at least it seemed to. Ill-rested and frustrated, Gill pulled his stiff body to his feet and continued on his way. For two days, Gill had walked and dreamed. He felt he was in a numb stupor. Only the road mattered.
The next path he chose was grassy and well-kept. He was about to turn around when a small building appeared around the hillside. A diner. And Gill could not deny his hunger.
Clutching the money in his pocket, Gill kept his head down as he entered the merry restaurant. Bar stools lined the front counter and a handful of tables littered the floor. There were only three other people inside.
Gill took a seat at the far end of the counter. Act natural. You haven't done anything wrong. It's just a bumpkin diner… Get food, get out.
"It's such a beautiful morning! Did you see the sunrise, Clement?" A young woman asked the tubby man behind the counter. Her long blonde hair was hidden by a cowboy hat.
The jolly chef chuckled and pulled at his blond beard. "Seems I missed it! But there will be plenty others."
The girl shook her head stubbornly. "Don't think like that – you'll take everything for granted…"
"You ought to just watch a sunrise one day, Clement. Or just take a walk around town," an old man beside the girl agreed. "Things for Echo Village have been really looking up since we got Rio here!"
"Aw, stop; I don't do much… And I certainly don't affect the sunrise," she laughed.
"Welcome to Chez Clement! What can I get for ya, stranger?" The burly Clement smiled down at Gill.
Gill looked down at the menu handed to him. His eyes quickly skimmed over dinner items not suited for an early morning meal. He handed the thick paper back across the counter, not keeping long eye contact. "Omelet rice. And coffee. Strong."
"Coming right up!" The man nodded and headed back to the kitchen.
At this point, the girl and the old man turned their attention to Gill. Though he avoided their friendly eyes, he didn't raise suspicion by being too unfriendly.
"Hey, are you new here, or are you just passing through?" The girl chirped.
Gill couldn't help distastefully noticing her ugly overalls. "Passing through."
"Cool! It's great to see more people coming through Echo Village," she smiled.
The old man nudged her. He said something low, almost like he was egging her on.
She shoved his arm and rolled her eyes. "Will you stop butting in?! The least of your concerns should be who I date! Jeez, I can take care of myself…"
Gill tried not to roll his eyes as well. He pretended not to hear.
The girl turned apologetically to him from her bar stool. "Sorry about him – he's awkward as hell, but he's the mayor so you can't yell at him or he'll kick you out of town."
Gill just stared.
"I'm kidding!" The girl laughed again, apparently her favorite past time. She brushed the hair off of her shoulder. "I'm Rio – I run the Echo Farm. What's—?"
Clement came bustling out of the kitchen with a song that drowned out her questions. He placed the plate and mug of coffee before Gill. "930G, sir! Coffee's on the house!"
"Thanks…" Gill counted out the correct amount of coins and placed it on the table.
"Reminds you of someone, doesn't he?" The old man spoke up again. Gill found it rude they were gossiping about him within earshot, but there wasn't much he could do as he poked at his food. "Blond even!"
Rio gave Gill an appraising look which she probably though he didn't see, hand on her chin. "Hm. Kinda. Yeah, actually… Though he's much better dressed than Neil. He's got that stupid trench coat."
Gill attempted to ignore their chatter as the subject changed from him to Rio's crops. As the last of the egg disappeared from his fork, he couldn't help but think how his father's scrambled eggs tasted. They weren't this good, but Gill preferred them anyways. He sadly finished his rice and focused on his coffee.
The bell to the diner jingled and a spritely girl came running in. She wore a camera around her neck, and her hair and skirt were much too short for Gill's liking. She looked like a woman in child's clothing.
She pounced upon the blonde farmer girl with a howl. "Rio! Check it out! Latest copy of the newspaper~!"
"Thanks, Tina!" Rio took the thin pamphlet from her. She handed it to the old man who started to read as she made small talk with the new girl. "How's your morning?"
"Too early!" Tina whined, exaggerating her discomfort by dropping her arms down. She quickly perked back up with energy Gill was envious of. "But the news never sleeps! Got any coffee here?"
"You're the last person in need of coffee," Clement shook his head, wiping his hands on a towel to appear busy.
"My, my…" The old man shook his head suddenly, long nose buried in the paper. He let out a low whistle.
"What is it, Dunhill?" Rio asked, trying to see the paper, too.
"Ooo, did you get to that part about Harmonica Town?" Tina bounced over his shoulder to read.
Gill's stomach dropped. His insides felt cold as ice as the group prattled on across the room.
"What happened?" Rio asked again.
Tina shook her head and crossed her arms in a ridiculous attempt at sincerity. "Seems they found some dead guy. He was just sitting on a park bench or something."
"Was he old?" Rio held her heart like Toby was close to her. Gill wanted to lash out at them for their fake concern, but he couldn't bring himself to such stupidity. He could only look on with sick bubbling up his chest.
"No, they say he was killed…" Dunhill read. "Spooky stuff…"
"In Harmonica Town?" Rio asked. "Why… that's not too far from here! When did this happen?"
Tina shrugged. "They found him a day or two ago, I guess. This paper is hot off the press – just got the story off Van. You know, that creepy travelling salesman from Forget-Me-Not or something?"
"That's awful…" Rio shook her head.
"Seems they've got a suspect in mind," Dunhill announced. "Some guy just up and disappeared."
"It's all so morbid, right?" Tina gushed. The restaurant's bell jingled again. "But you have to admit, it makes great news. It's a real murder mystery!"
"You said there's a suspect?" Rio picked out the important information.
Dunhill nodded but didn't say anything. Apparently, there wasn't more to tell.
"Hm… I wonder if—?" Rio looked at Gill's corner and found his bar stool was empty.