The following work is fiction based on and derived from the novel Let the Right One In by John A. Linqvist and the film of the same name. The characters and basic story elements in this work were created by Mr. Linqvist. No copyright protection applies.
Hunted, part 2
In an abandoned farm root cellar, Oskar sat on the edge of the old sofa that served as Eli’s bed, staring down at a sheet of paper. In dim lantern light, it was difficult to read the carefully printed lines, and the ink was starting to run as tears landed heavily on the paper.
To my beloved Oskar:
Earth and sky, day and night
Between it all I stand
A tiny meaningless witness
Caught between eternity’s beats
The abandoned sky surrenders its light
As time repaints the scene
From a pallet of darkness
Revealing a few timid stars
Soon pushed aside by a bolder moon
Drained of color in cold light
The earth shines
Bathed in the lingering ghost
Of warm light I will never feel
Earth and sky, day and night
I’m lost in the rhythm of eternity
But in your arms it all stands still
This flash of time we share
Will be the only warm light in my forever
After the fourth reading, he looked up and stared into the murky grayness beyond the lamp’s dull glow. He felt dead inside—the worst humiliations at the hands of bullies, the realization that his mother and father no longer loved each other—none of it matched the abyss he was staring into now. He wanted to cry harder than he ever had, but something inside him blocked it. Eli, where are you? He carefully tucked the poem back where it had been hidden, layered in a stack of her clothes on the floor. He closed the cellar door behind him, ascended a short set of smooth, worn concrete steps and walked out into abrupt midday brightness. He raised a hand to shield his shocked eyes. Please be somewhere dark, somewhere safe.
Over three days earlier they were standing outside the old barn under the stars, facing each other and holding hands. Eli was looking up at him with eyes that seemed to sparkle more than usual; she had a smile that even her hunger pains could not dim. “I have to go and take care of things,” she said, “ but I will be back soon. I might need a day or two. I want you to sleep now, please dream about me. I have a surprise for you when I get back, something I’ve been working on that might make you proud of me.”
Oskar remembered how strange that sounded. Proud of you? You are my whole world…there’s nothing you will ever have to prove to me…But he knew she was eager to go and didn’t question her words. They shared a long kiss and she vanished into the star filled blackness overhead.
It’s never been this long…something must have happened. She was headed for town…too dangerous there… but…she was slowly starving here. It’s so damn far…but I could cut across the fields to the highway and hitch a ride. It’ll be OK—pretty sure I don’t look much like the missing boy pictures anymore.
Oskar scrawled a note explaining where he had gone and left it on Eli’s bed in the root cellar. He quickly washed up with frigid water from the rusty, creaking hand pump that stood near the barn and ran dripping into the old house to find a change of clothes. After hastily stuffing a backpack with extra clothes for Eli, he swung it over his shoulders and stormed out. A short distance across the yard he abruptly stopped. I’ll need money. He sprinted down to the root cellar and dug through the small trunk that held Eli’s jumble of possessions. Even under these circumstances he felt uncomfortable doing it, but he found what he needed and gently closed the trunk. He stole a glance at the stack of clothes on the floor and thought again about what she had written. What if those are the last words from her I ever…no, stop it…time to go! He didn’t have much of a plan beyond getting to town, but doing anything that held a chance of finding Eli made him feel a little better.
Squinting into a sinking afternoon sun, he ran until burning legs and lungs forced him to walk, then ran again when he had recovered enough. He paid no attention to pacing himself and was soon exhausted. Stumbling over fallen fences and rocks, the stretch of old fields and tangled woodlots leading to the highway seemed endless.
It was dusk when a panting and grubby Oskar fought through a final thicket and broke free into a deep ditch beside the highway. He guessed he probably looked worse now than he did before his hasty cleanup back at the farm—he could only hope that his appearance would arouse pity rather than revulsion in some passing motorist. He clamored up the loose gravel roadbed and onto the road. There were no cars in sight. At this time of day, most rural families were sitting down to their dinners. Nothing to do but keep walking…somebody has to come along sooner or later. I have to stop the first car I see, no matter what…His spirits began to sink as he stared down the empty, arrow-straight road and realized how exhausted he was. The only sounds to be heard were the first tentative choruses of frogs coming from distant ponds. The temperature dropped rapidly and he was soon miserably cold in his damp clothing. Reluctantly, he replaced his freezing shirt with one of Eli’s sweaters from his backpack. It had grown dark except for a thin magenta line that betrayed the western horizon. He kept his eyes locked on that strip of color swimming in a sea of black…the focal point of his desperate hope that Eli waited for him out there. When it faded, he walked on in blackness.
Minutes dragged by. Oskar stopped. Did I just imagine that… did I hear something? He spun around. A point of light had appeared behind him, and it slowly grew.
For a fleeting moment, everything seemed right—darkness, the familiar damp smell of a cellar, the feel of a lumpy old cushion. I’m waking up… Oskar, are you here? Then, a sudden rush of recall… No! No! Eli sat up and gazed into unfamiliar and threatening darkness. Oskar, where are you?