FLASHES
Eva hurried home, carefully stepping around puddles. The rain was heavy, and though she carried an umbrella, she did not want to be outdoors any longer than necessary.
It was late. She had worked the last shift, the one no one else wanted, the Friday evening shift. Secretly, she enjoyed it best – during the last few hours, the store was quiet. She could sit in the comfortable chair behind the counter and read without being disturbed.
She hardly paid attention to the familiar path as she walked. Charles had visited her at the store and mentioned that he might stop by her home later. She was unsure of what to call her relationship with Charles – they had been dating with some regularity for the past four months, but he wasn't exactly her boyfriend. They hadn't discussed anything serious, and for all she knew, she was one of many women that he was seeing. Even after four months, she felt as though she hardly knew him.
Still, the chance that Charles might come by excited her. They had only met there once before, and she had ended up asking him to stay the night. He was so handsome and witty, and they had shared a bottle of wine, then another, and she couldn't help herself. She sighed. Maybe she shouldn't have been so forward. If he stopped by tonight, she would control herself. She didn't want to give the wrong idea. She hadn't even invited him – he had simply informed her that he might visit. Surprisingly, though, she didn't mind it at all. She wanted him to come.
A light flashed, and Eva quickly raised her eyes. Was it lightning? She looked at the sky, but no thunder sounded. She scanned the sidewalk ahead, and noticed a shape standing just beyond the glow from the next streetlight. Her heart began to beat slightly faster. She lived in a fairly safe neighborhood, but it wasn't toosafe. Should she cross the street? She decided against it. She was only two blocks from home, what could possibly happen to her?
She kept her eyes trained on the shape, and as she approached, she could make out that it was, in fact, a person. He stood with his back to her, but turned as she drew closer. She noticed that he held a camera. But what was there to take pictures of in the dark and rain? The man wore an old-fashioned suit and a hat which obscured his face in shadow. He stepped toward her, closer to the streetlight.
"Evening." He spoke in a raspy voice. Eva looked into his face, the lower half of which was illuminated by the light. She watched his lips pull back into a grin, revealing an unsightly set of teeth. She looked away quickly, back to the pavement before her.
"Eve-… Evening," she stammered as she walked past. She quickened her step, wanting to distance herself from the man.
A block away, she peeked over her shoulder to make sure he wasn't following. He was nowhere in sight, and Eva breathed a sigh of relief. Her house came into view, and her unease began to fade. She silently chastised herself for being so scared. It was just a normal man with an unfortunate dental problem, nothing more.
She entered her home and let her heavy bag fall to the floor. She shook her wet umbrella outside before taking a seat on the bench and removing her shoes. Leaning back against the wall, she sighed again, happy that she was home, looking forward to rest.
She rose from her seat and made her way to the kitchen. While she cooked, she watched through the window as the rain poured down in sheets. The one streetlight she could see was wreathed in a glowing halo of light, reflected off the rain. As she watched, the sky flickered brightly. Seconds passed, and thunder rumbled deeply in the distance. The woman smiled; it must have been lightning earlier as well. She liked thunderstorms.
After eating, she rinsed her plate in the sink and placed it in the dishwasher. She took her book out of the bag in the foyer and climbed the stairs. Her bedroom and bathroom were on the second floor, and she entered the former. She switched on a dim light by her favorite chair and placed her book on the stand beside it. She couldn't wait to dive back into the pages, but she hoped that Charles would interrupt her reading.
Eva slipped out of her work clothes: a narrow skirt, a white blouse, and a gray striped cardigan. She sent her dirty clothes carefully into the hamper, and placed a set of clean pajamas neatly on the armchair. Lightning flashed again outside, casting stark shadows all over the room. She smiled to herself and moved to the bathroom, where she turned on the shower. She stepped inside, curtain billowing behind her, and stood beneath the hot water. She let it run over her head and face, her shoulders, down her chest and abdomen and legs. She rotated slowly beneath the stream, breathing deeply, feeling her muscles loosen, and the dust of the workday flow off her with the water and into the drain.
She washed her long hair, running her fingers through its smooth length. She kept her eyes closed, partly because she was tired, and partly because it was more soothing that way. She could not see the lightning flash, but she could hear the thunder, a bit more frequently now, so she knew the storm was not even thinking of finishing. She rinsed out her hair and soaped up her body, and when she was finished washing, placed her face beneath the stream of water and closed her eyes again.
The hot water flowed over her eyes and ears, muffling every sound. She could hear nothing but the droplets falling onto her forehead, cheeks, and eyelids. She stayed in that position for many minutes, motionless, focusing on the sound of the water. Charles' face floated up in her mind's eye, and she imagined herself kissing him on the lips. Memories of the night they had spent together played in her head. She remembered how his hair felt when she ran her hands through it, how strong his arms were, how muscled his back was…
When she opened her eyes, the room was completely dark. She blinked hurriedly, wondering what was wrong, and why she couldn't see. Lightning flashed, lighting up the bathroom for an instant, outlining the familiar objects in her shower with deep shadow.
She toweled off in the dark, interrupted only by the lightning and thunder. She returned to her room and felt for the clothes she had laid out.
It was time to find a flashlight and check the circuit breakers in the basement. She didn't think that the breakers would have been tripped, because she'd had hardly anything plugged in. Surely her single lamp upstairs wouldn't have done it? The flashlight was exactly where she remembered, in the drawer beneath the TV. She pressed the button and was glad to see the beam of light.
Her bare feet padded back across the living room. She opened the basement door with a creak and shined her light below. She hesitated for a second, then descended. She hurried to the breakers, saw that they were in order, and returned to the first floor. She closed the basement door behind her, and turned around.
She moved to the window and glanced at the other houses on the street. There was not a light on anywhere and the streetlights were off as well. This was definitely an outage. There was nothing to do about it but wait. She looked at the sky and was rewarded with a brilliant arc of lightning. She began to count the seconds, and at six, thunder crashed loudly. She knew the seconds in between had something to do with the distance to the storm. But what was it exactly, was it one mile for every two seconds? Or a kilometer for every one?
Unable to remember, she returned upstairs and to her room. Reading by flashlight would not be the best way to spend the night. But reading by candlelight – now that was a different story. She smiled again, thinking that the night was not ruined after all. She dug through her drawers until she found her candles, then set about lighting them around the armchair. If Charles did come by, it would be even more romantic than last time.
She counted after every flash of lightning until the corresponding crash of thunder. Even if she couldn't know the distance, she could tell if the storm was getting closer or moving off. Six seconds seemed to be the average. Sometimes she counted five, and sometimes seven.
With all the candles lit, her corner glowed with a warm and inviting light. She sat in her chair, tucked her feet up under her, and spread a blanket across her legs. She opened her book and sunk into the text.
As she turned the pages, she occasionally listened to the storm. It seemed to be moving farther away, the lightning growing more intermittent, the thunder softer. If it continued at this rate, the power would be back by morning. That would be good, she thought. Her stove was electric, and she did like a hot breakfast. With each page she read, her eyelids grew heavier, and her mind strayed farther from the text. Charles hadn't even called. Why would he tease her like that? She began to consider giving up the reading and the waiting and heading to bed, but decided to try one more page.
Halfway down it, Eva decided to take a short rest. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes.
Eva woke with a start and found herself in complete darkness for the second time that night. She noticed a smoky scent. Her candles must have all gone out. She sighed, and looked toward the window, wondering how long she had slept, and if the storm was over. After a long minute, the sky grew bright, and then faded. And immediately after came another, paler flash. She waited for the thunder, and it came, but with it, she thought she heard a sound downstairs.
Eva froze in her chair, listening closely. Surely she was just imagining the noise? Her mind was still in disorder from sleep, she must have imagined it. But no, another sound came. A barely audible shuffling that she would have missed if she wasn't listening so intently.
"Charles?" she called. She swallowed anxiously, trying frantically to remember if she had locked the door.
Another flash of lightning brightened the room, but she could have sworn that some of the light came from the hall. Holding her breath, she waited. Thunder sounded. As it faded, she heard a repetitive clicking that was quickly cut off.
"Charles!" she called again, "Stop playing around, you're scaring me."
She tried to stand, but found that her legs were not responding. There was someone inside her home,and she couldn't move. Her breathing quickened, and she tried to think of what to do. Her thoughts jumbled together, leaving her panicked and petrified.
Again the lightning came, with a brighter flash from the hall. In the silence before the thunder, nearly soundless footsteps shuffled up the stairs. This time, the thunder did not fully mask the quick and repetitive clicking.
She tried to speak again, to say "Who's there?" or threaten the intruder, or beg him to leave, but all she emitted was a crackly squeak. She stared into the darkness at the top of her stairs, and when she saw the shadow moving noiselessly up them, her throat closed and she could not breath. Unable to move, she stared with eyes open wide.
The lightning was nothing compared to the brightness of the flash from the stairs. She blinked, but could not see anything past the dancing afterimage. The shuffling resumed, and when the thunder rumbled, there was no mistaking the clicking of winding film.
Her eyes rendered useless by the burning afterimage, and her ears assaulted by the low sound of thunder, her panicked brain focused on the smell she hadn't noticed before. It was a musty, earthy scent, and it would have been pleasant if not for the stabbing hints of rot and death mixed among it. The afterimage cleared, and she looked up to see a man standing before her. He wore an old-fashioned suit that was falling apart at the seams, with dark holes and tears throughout. His head was covered by a bent and shapeless hat which threw his face into even darker shadow than the rest of the room. She could hear his breath wheezing and rattling through damaged lungs.
When the lightning flashed again, she could see his face clearly. Eyes that were too wide, with pupils black as pitch, bottomless pits staring directly at her. Where the nose should have been only a disfigured chunk of white bone stuck out of the decaying flesh. But his mouth was the worst of it all. It was stretched in a hellish grin going nearly ear to ear. When she'd seen it earlier, she knew something was wrong. It was filled with far too many teeth, some filed to points, others leaning crookedly against their neighbors.
With the next peal of thunder, the man raised his camera.
"Smile," he croaked, and the blinding light flashed into her eyes.