Read Online In the Shadows of Children by Alan Ryker - Free Book Online Page B

remembered the swirling darkness, the way the room felt contained and safe one moment, and the next on the brink of a void so huge that it could destroy him not by consumption but by perspective, as if the camera would pull out and out and out until he became so small he disappeared entirely.
    That was where Bobby lived, and that night, Aaron intended to find out what had happened to his brother.
    The shadows deepened and spread, sliding from their corners like oil. The foyer disappeared. Still Aaron sat, paralyzed by dread. He did not want to go upstairs. He wanted to go home.
    He knew that by this point his brother sat waiting for him. Bobby, about whom Aaron had said for years that he’d give anything to talk to one last time.
    Aaron stood, made his way to the base of the dark stairs. He should have turned the upstairs landing light on before the sun fell. Taking a deep breath and gripping the banister tightly, Aaron ascended.
    He watched the doorway to his bedroom. He realized he was staring into the darkness, waiting for something, and step by step the anticipation increased until the slightest sound or movement would have probably sent him sprinting for the door.
    But by the time he’d reaching the landing, nothing had happened, and as Aaron reached for the landing light switch he almost wished that something had, giving him an excuse to escape.
    It was just his brother. He loved his brother. They’d been best friends.
    He turned on the landing light and stepped into the bedroom. There Bobby sat, cross-legged on the pure black “floor” of whatever had replaced their closet. He’d been fiddling with the frayed hem of his jeans where he’d walked on them, which had driven their seamstress of a mother crazy. She always asked why he didn’t just let her fix them so that they fit correctly. He always said that if he wanted them to fit right, he would have bought them that way.
    Bobby looked up from the tattered denim cuff and smiled. “What’s up, bro?”
    Aaron’s heart swelled up into his throat with love even as it beat a frantic message of fear. Neither emotion made him want to smile, but he forced one and said, “Not much. It’s good to see you again.”
    “It is good. It is.”
    Aaron tried to think of something to say, some sort of small talk to ease their way into discussing the elephants crashing around the room. But there were no small subjects.
    What have you been up to?
    How are you doing?
    How’s the weather in there?
    Every question led to the same rough territory, like unfinished nature trails stopping dead against dense, dark wilderness.
    Aaron was still thinking of something to say when Bobby asked, “So what did you do today?”
    “A few things.”
    “Oooh, productive day.”
    “I went to the library. I researched the boogeyman.”
    Bobby smirked. “And what did you learn about the boogeyman in the library?”
    “That almost every culture has a story about him, and that for all the small variations, they’re remarkably similar.”
    “It’s only remarkable if you don’t believe in him. Once you’ve stepped through, it all makes perfect sense. I think you’re still trying to convince yourself that he’s not real.”
    “Or that he is. I don’t know which is worse.”
    “I do. But what are some of these remarkable similarities?”
    “He almost always has a sack. In fact, he’s often literally called the ‘Sack Man’ or ‘ el Hombre del Saco .’ He usually comes from the closet, but sometimes from beneath the bed. He wants only children. He wants only bad children. That got me thinking. I’m still having such a hard time remembering what happened to us.”
    “Armor. Your brain is still hoping you’ll decide to forget.”
    “It struck me, how the boogeyman always punishes bad children. If you stay out too late, if you don’t eat your dinner, if you don’t go to bed on time, if you argue with your parents, the boogeyman will get you. It seems like the one constant. So my