Installment 5

Jake stepped out of the elevator onto the fourteenth floor. He stared down at the faded emerald green carpet before turning to his right. The hallway was deserted. All Jake could hear was the humming of the vent fan. He proceeded down the hallway, trying to focus on inhaling and exhaling. Jake looked at the doorways to his left. 1411 . . . 1409 . . . Jake turned and his finger hovered over the doorbell next to the door marked 1407. He lifted his hand and felt the grooves of the plaque that read “Glosham.” He clenched a fist and knocked three times.

The door opened, revealing a muscular man with thinning gray hair. “Can I help you?” he said, flashing a row of yellow teeth.

“Well, this is a bit odd, but I’m Jake - - Walter sent me to see you.”

“Walt? I thought he kicked the bucket. Don’t tell me I was misinformed . . .”

“No, you weren’t misinformed, but he gave me your name before he died . . . he said . . . well, I’m not really sure . . .” Jake was ready to turn around and leave.

“Come on in and maybe you can explain things.” Michael Glosham stepped back and gestured for Jake to enter.

As he stepped over the threshold, Jake’s feet tingled. He scanned the apartment, looking from the kitchenette, to the barely visible kitchen table, finally resting his eyes on the matching beige sofa and chair. Jake followed Michael into the room, and each of them took a seat at the table.

“So, why in the heck did Walt send you to me?” It was obvious that Michael was not one for dancing around a subject.

“He-” Jake paused. Walter had obviously chosen to trust Jake with his “confession,” no matter how indirectly he chose to present it. Would Walter want Jake to share the fact that he had a dark secret with Michael Glosham? Jake decided that if Walter had wanted Michael to know, he would have told him himself rather than trusting the secret with Jake.

“There was something about Walter’s past that he wanted to tell me, but he didn’t get a chance. He must have sent me to you because he thought you could help me figure it out . . .” Jake’s voice drifted off. “How did you know Walter?” Jake had been staring at the table, but looked up suddenly as the question burst out of him.

“I used to live in Holly,” Michael said slowly.

“Before you retired and moved here?” Jake was feeling impatient.

“No, no. This was many years ago. I lived in a house there by myself starting when I was 20. Walter was probably 15.” Michael smiled as he felt the warmth of the memories wash over him.

“When did you leave?”

“After a year or two, but Walter and I kept in touch for much longer. I never wanted to leave Holly, you know. The place was so enchanting. It was what I imagine being newlyweds is like. You wake up in the morning and fall in love all over again.” Michael sighed and stared at the wall behind Jake with a dazed look.

“So why did you leave?” Jake couldn’t help but ask this burning question.

“Ahhh, I see Walter didn’t share all the mysteries of Holly with you. Why don’t we get more comfortable before I begin?” Michael settled into the beige easy chair, while Jake sat across from him on the sofa. Michael’s wrinkles seemed to shrink back into his skin as he transformed from a man into a storyteller. He rubbed his hands together as if the energy would start a fire and fixed Jake with a piercing stare. The old man had a devilish look in his eye that seemed strangely familiar.