A Summertime Journey

is Emma? Why is she not helping? I think, and I instinctively look up at Charlie, like so many times before, when I worried about him knowing my thoughts. He is still spinning, and the figure that once was his body is twisting into inconceivable positions that even the most flexible contortionist could not pull off. His body is no longer bones and flesh; it’s evil. My right hand squeezes down and I feel the comfort of my rock, my talisman. The stone is burning hot in my hand, and I can feel the power from it radiate through my body. My hand is now translucent and blue light emits from it in all directions. I squeeze even harder and again turn my attention to how we’re going to escape.
Joey turns to me with dead eyes and says, “Your blood must fill the portal,” pointing to the newly formed hole. “Fuck you, Joey!” I yell in a shrill voice. As my mind is racing, Emma’s voice enters: “Lance, I gave you the talisman; it’s the power to stop this. Cast it into the portal—hurry! It’s the only object that can stop Adamah and Sheol from interlinking.” I squeeze it even tighter, not wanting to lose the only object that has brought me any comfort during this journey. The phoenixes are growing and breaking free from their guard mount, preparing to attack. But attack whom? Charlie or me? The chants from Charlie and the grouplings intensify into a blistering shriek all around me. I look up, and Charlie is the conductor shifting his psychopomps within the room. Joey has his knife out and is hacking Jeremy’s wrist while the other grouplings are holding his arm over the fissure. I realize that I must act now, but I’m frozen in the imaginary tar again and can’t move, can’t act. As Jeremy’s blood begins flowing from the fissure to the portal, Charlie feels his power building.
The flaccid demons stimulated and freed by Jeremy’s blood, begin escaping out of the portal. Erebus, sensing their release is near, and the realm opening to release them, grow frenetic, driving Charlie harder. Soon it will be irreversible. “You MUST hurry if you want to save your world and yourself… THROW THE TALISMAN!” yells Emma, who is now next to me. I look at Joey and Jeremy one more time, turn, and launch the talisman. As it leaves my hand I immediately regret my decision. It lands short.
Charlie spins to look at me, his grotesque face contorting and pulsing. He can now see Emma by my side. In this room, both sides are neutral. He realizes the rock has power and can stop the splice. His eyes are pitch black and as large as cup saucers as he swoops down toward the rock and I instinctively lunge forward. It is my first act of courage, and I remember the promise I made to myself at Jeremy’s house when Brian was picking on me. We violently meet at the portal.
His hands resemble mutated talons as they burrow into my back as he tries to lift and carry me away from the talisman. The pain is excruciating, and my vocal cords release an agonizing shriek, joining the chorus of the other lost souls in the room. One of the phoenixes now swooping above us dives with the precision of a guided missile and collides into Charlie’s head with the force of a school bus. The phoenix explodes into an exceptional fireworks finale, lighting the entire room with flames and feathers. I tumble to the ground, unconscious from the pain and impact. When I regain consciousness, Charlie is nowhere to be found, and the two phoenixes are perched at the portal as if protecting their eggs.
In the prone position, I begin low crawling toward the talisman, adrenaline masking the pain of my wounds. I look up as Charlie reemerges from the endless ceiling and dive bombs toward me at breakneck speed. We again meet at the talisman, and with the tips of my fingers, I slide the rock forward, and it drops into the eternal hole.
At first, nothing happens, and a feeling of dread overcomes me; I think I’ve failed. I’ve failed not only my friends and Emma but everyone. The room grows eerily quiet and then suddenly implodes violently from all sides, hurtling brick and stone in all directions. Already on the ground, prone, I shield my head with my arms. I look up in time to see Charlie battling to escape the phoenixes as they drag him into the portal. Our eyes lock one last time, and instead of evil, I see Charlie’s eyes, the real Charlie. Charlie’s real name is Abel Stratt. A boy from Seattle, Washington, the only child of his strong, single mom, Sarah.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
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SARAH’S LIFE WAS TRAGICALLY stolen from her on her way home from a double shift at the Dog House restaurant on 7th Avenue and Bell Street. She was walking home when a nineteen-year-old drunk driver lost control of his silver Pontiac Fiero and slammed into her on the sidewalk. Charlie (Abel) was shuttled away to live with his aunt and uncle, Sylvia and Bernard, in Bellingham, Washington. Abel should never have been placed with them. Sylvia was a bipolar alcoholic with severe depression, and Bernard was a sadist. They never wanted him but wanted the government assistance that was attached to him. After a few visits, social services stopped coming around. That’s when they locked him in a dark and musty basement with only a thin mattress, TV, and the stuffed bear given to him by his nonexistent caseworker.
Abel was forced to wear diapers until his escape at age twelve. He didn’t go to school or play with other kids; the only social interaction he received was when his uncle was drunk and molested him. His aunt refused to acknowledge him at all, staying upstairs. In the latter years, his uncle began inviting his friends to join in, for