A humming filled the air. It was a low sound, a buzzing sound, like a bumblebee clumsily flying close to the ear. No, that’s not quite right, thought Jason. More like, somewhat similar to the hum that comes from the old organ at the Main Street Church. Jason should not have known that - most of Main Street had been OFF LIMITS since before he was born - but curious boys have always found ways into OFF LIMITS-types of places, and will always find reasons to explore when they should be using caution. A young boy was doing just that today, on October 16. The day was a special day for him - at least, as long as the sherfs did not catch him in an OFF LIMITS place.
Jason slipped a piece of sweetcherry into his mouth, and began humming himself, quickly and effortlessly finding the tone and frequency of the buzz coming from all around him. The fact that there was an actual note in the humming, and it wasn’t just toneless buzzing, was what made Jason compare it more to the organ than the bumblebee. He alternated his own humming to other pitches, harmonizing with the sound of the fading, creating a sort of tune. Softly, he vocalized a melody for a few moments, finding a bit of joy in bringing music to a world which had lost most of its musicality. It was a fun little mental exercise for him, and gave him a way to enjoy music, since most of the electrical instruments around Kanestown were no longer in working order - other than the OFF LIMITS organ, of course. He remembered that his father had had a piano, a tall black thing, with old ivory keys that had felt like a smoothed stone - just enough texture to grip the fingers, like very fine sandpaper. His father had played it for hours at night, singing to himself and Jason, or listening while Jason sang. Jason could not get to that piano now, and likely never would again. Quickly wiping his eyes, and looking around to make sure no one had seen the moisture - there was no one around in this part of town - he turned his attention back to the mass of darkness ahead.
A massive dome, over five hundred feet tall and several miles wide, seemingly arose out of the ground less than a hundred yards away from where Jason currently stood. It appeared to cut Jans P. Berret Elementary School in two, with some of the tall sections of the school building poking out of the low part of the fading like weeds out of a garden. The black mass, almost completely opaque from the outside, seemed to writhe with swirls of purple energy. If Jason looked hard enough, he could occasionally see moving shapes flickering about just beneath the surface of the dome, where all was not completely opaque. Those flickerings could very well be tricks of the mind, because as far as Jason had ever heard, no humans or animals could survive inside a fading. At that thought, a faint finger seemed to poke at the boy’s memory, but he stubbornly pushed it down - he would not cry on this important day. Instead, he concentrated again on the humming.
There really was no other word for it. The closer Jason came to the fading, the louder the humming became, though never any louder than Old Kane’s generator. It seemed to swell, or pulse, in some sort of rhythm that Jason almost felt he could understand. The sound did not get any louder with those pulses... just stronger, if that was possible, as though a man was singing, then another man had momentarily joined the first, but for that short time when two were singing, both men sang half as loudly as the first had alone. That wasn’t quite right either, but it was the closest analogy Jason could figure out. Sometimes, very rarely, the humming would change pitch ever so slightly, and at those times, the purples lines of energy in the fading would intensify, moving slightly faster, glowing slightly brighter. The boy had no theories for this rare event, but he couldn’t ask anyone else about it without admitting to being this close to a fading, so for the time being, he would puzzle secretly.
Idly humming along with the fading, Jason looked around. The sun was still three hands above the horizon, so he leaned back in the tiny nook of trees he had found, and closed his eyes. For some reason, with his eyes closed, the humming of the fading relaxed him and lulled him towards sleep. He could not explain it, and logically knew that from his history, fadings should make him quite anxious, but that simply was not the case. The pulsing tone seemed to clear his mind of all but the most conscious of thoughts, and if he simply concentrated on it, he could actually completely silence all the thoughts and feelings in his head. He allowed the humming to blank his mind, and before he had a moment to realize how dangerous that was, had dozed off in the shade of the trees.
* * * * * * * * * * *
He awoke with a start, and instantly noticed that sunlight was quickly fading. That thought gave him a quick chuckle of irony, and as he gathered up his small knife and bag of sweetcherries, he sang to himself.
Fading sunlight by the fading
Why it makes me keep waiting.
Day for the night is a’trading
Sunlight fades by the fading.
He grinned at his new song as he began to walk back towards the Hold. It certainly wasn’t his best song, but on such short notice, it made quick work of his little inside joke. Skipping occasionally, and finally settling into a slow jog, he glanced behind him again at the setting sun. He had at least an hour before sunset, so didn’t have to hurry too much. Martha wouldn’t scold unless you came in too close to dark, but he knew better than to do that anyway. Of course, if a sherf caught him this close to the fading, he would have bigger troubles than Martha’s paddle and scoldings.
Turning next to the old Exxco station, intending to head down Hamsburg Road and cross Strawhorse Lane, then head up Wellsford Road to get back to the Hold, Jason had sprinted a hundred feet when he heard laughing up ahead of him. Skidding to a stop, he panicked and looked around for a place to hide. Thinking quickly, he saw that he could either duck into Hay’s Apparel, or break a window across the street and hide in an old apartment complex. The window breaking may cause enough noise that whoever was coming would hear him; on the other hand, Hay’s was simply a large, empty room, long-since gutted, and wouldn’t provide much cover with its huge storefront windows.
Deciding to risk the noise, Jason ran to the apartment building. He dashed to the southwest side of the building, which would be to the laughing peoples’ backs as they walked southwest down the road. The shadows of the buildings were already growing dangerously long, but he knew that if he was caught this close to the fading, he would likely never be let out of the Hold again. He picked up a brick on the ground and quickly shattered a ground-level window of the building. Taking off his shirt, he wrapped his hands to protect them, and cleared enough glass to crawl through the opening. Once inside, he listened intently, and eventually heard more laughter and talking. He breathed a sigh of relief - they had not heard his window-breaking antics.
Feeling safe for a moment, Jason turned around to inspect the room he was in. The small apartment room had definitely been occupied, before the tenants had hurriedly abandoned it - likely in favor of living at the Hold. There were light blue sheets on the bed, and one of the dresser drawers was open, as though whoever had left had not had time to close it. Curiously, he peeked into the dresser and saw several balls of women’s socks stuffed next to some stockings and underwear. A hand-painted ceramic lamp stood atop the dresser, with the bulb removed. Looking up, he noticed the ceiling light’s bulb had been removed as well. He wondered idly who had lived here and why they would take their used bulbs with them while being in such an obvious rush to leave the place. He looked back out the window.
The talking and laughing was louder, but he wouldn’t be able to see the owners of the voices until they passed the building he was hiding in. It may be another minute or so. Turning back to the room, he was startled to see movement out of the corner of his eye. Gasping, he rounded on the culprit, knife drawn, and looked straight into his own reflection in a mirror on the back of the bedroom door.
Silently berating himself on his stupidity - after all, who would be wandering around a deserted town next to a fading but a stupid boy - he closed his knife, laying it on the nightstand, and looked at himself in the mirror. The person staring back had shaggy but close-cropped dark hair, a nose slightly too large, and the scruffiness of a boy first coming into manhood (and refusing to shave). Jason grimaced at his reflection. His hair, nose, and height - or lack of height, he thought bitterly - came from his father. Neither his father or mother had had his stark blue, almost violet, eyes, and many people had told him that they had never seen eyes as blue as his. He knew he was considered fairly attractive, but wished he could grow just a few more inches. Wishful thinking, he thought. Dad wasn’t any taller than this, so I doubt I’ll get much taller. He longed to be at least as tall as Alan, his best friend (who was also younger!), but would rather be as tall as Mr. Huitt, who stood above everyone else in Kanestown.
Fancying himself tall for a moment, he stood on the bed to see what it would look like to look down on everything. His head almost reached the ceiling and brushed the light fixture. It was a satisfactory feeling, and feeling giddy, he crouched and began hopping on the bed - there were no beds this soft back at the Hold, so maybe Martha or Tom would let him fetch this bed back with him. He would have to come up with a way to bring it to their attention without admitting where he had been, but he was sure he could think of something. His mind began to follow that train of thought, and it was not too long before he had concocted an elaborate ruse to convince everyone at the Hold to come to this apartment building and bring back dozens of mattresses. Thinking of it that way, he was a little surprised that no one had already thought of that. Or maybe they had, but people just simply felt it was too dangerous to head this far into the old town.
Suddenly, his hopping feet caught in one of the sheets, and crouched as he was, he quickly overbalanced. Before he could catch himself, he toppled top-side first off the end of the bed and hit the dresser with his shoulder. Wincing in pain, he had just enough time to see the bulbless ceramic lamp tip from the dresser. Everything seemed to move in slow motion as his hand grasped desperately to stop the lamp from falling, to no avail. The sound of the shattering lamp was staggering, with pieces flying in all directions, and Jason was sure it could be heard all the way to New York.
He held his breath, and heard what he had feared - the laughing outside had stopped, and low talking and quickly-advancing footsteps had taken its place. Cursing, Jason opened the bedroom door and stepped into the small hallway, quickly and silently closing the door behind him. Just in time, he saw faint lights beneath the door he had just exited - the people, whoever they were, were shining lights into the room. Without waiting to see if the people would explore the sound and follow him, he ran quietly for the entry door, through the apartment’s living room. He kicked an ottoman on his way to the door, banging his shin horribly, but caught himself from falling on his face by grabbing the doorknob. Just as he had expected, the door led to a hallway with other apartment doors, and a staircase up at the end. He knew he should be thinking of getting out of the building, but had no way of knowing if the people would stay around. If he could get to the roof, he could look down on all sides to make sure they were gone before he tried to escape.
As quickly and quietly as possible, nursing an already-bruising leg, he went up one, two, three flights of stairs. The stairs ended on the fourth floor, next to a metal ladder which climbed up the white wall to to end at a square in the ceiling. The ladder obstacle was quickly cleared, and Jason was soon pushing up the square trap door. Light filled his vision, but not full daylight; the trap door had opened up into an old attic instead of directly onto the roof. He saw windows all around and figured this may do just as well.
Limping over the old, wood floor boards, wincing with every creak beneath his feet, he first checked one of the three windows which looked out over Hamsburg Road. The men were nowhere to seen, but much to his dismay, the sun was sinking alarmingly low in the sky - only twenty or thirty minutes until the sun was completely gone. Jason quickly checked each of the other windows, and saw no one down the sides, or in the back courtyard of the apartment complex. I’ll just check one more time out front, and if they’re not there, I’ll assume they’re gone, he thought. He tried not to think about Martha’s saying about assuming, knowing that he would receive much worse than being called an 'ass' if he was caught in this building. He dashed back towards the center window.
Out front, he saw three men just stepping out from the side from where he had originally entered the apartments. They were talking low, and one of the men was pointing to something in his hand. The men turned to look at the building again, and Jason ducked out of the window. Damn! Of all my luck! One of the men was Terry Darns, a sherf, and had caught Jason once previously coming out of the Main Street Church. He was the worst of all the people who could discover him, rumored to be extremely brutal in his beating of people caught twice in an OFF LIMITS area. Jason winced when he thought about the bruises on Damion Rider’s chest and arms when the young man had once been caught canoodling with his lady friend too close to the fading. No, it would not do to be caught by Terry today. Risking another peek, he saw that Terry and turned away, looking again at the item in his hand. Turning it over, it glittered silver in the fading sunlight, and Jason gasped, his hand reaching for his belt. My knife! He remembered clearly laying it down before gazing at himself in the mirror. Stupid, STUPID!
The sherf and his depps turned west and walked towards the fading, and Jason figured it was definitely time to leave. He crept back across the attic floor to the trap door leading down, descended the ladder and stairs, and made his way back to the room he had originally entered. Crawling out the window and listening carefully, he wondered if the men might be waiting for him. Still, the sun was too low to risk waiting any longer. His father had believed that to be outside after dark was a sure way to never see your friends again, and Jason knew to trust in that advice. He crept out onto Hamsburg Road, then seeing no one around, began jogging northeast, trying his best to ignore the pain in his leg. As the shadows lengthened around him, his speed increased to a trot, then a dead run. He forgot all about his banged-up leg in favor of getting back to the Hold before dark. He turned north onto Wellsford and began running by the old abandoned houses towards the Hold. The last light of the sun was just disappearing when he rounded a curve and came to the main entrance to Kanestown. The guards were tidying up and preparing to close down the entry, and grinned knowingly at Jason as he scampered between the metal and wooden gates.
He was just starting to think that maybe his luck had changed for the better when he saw Martha standing in front of the Hold, arms on her hips and an angry look on her face. He had cut things pretty close, but at least he was in before dark! The scolding he received was not the worst he had had, but Martha refused to give him a cup cake, telling him that maybe next year, he would make it home in time to celebrate his own birthday.
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