This section of my unpublished novel Falls the Shadow takes place, quite obviously, after the section Spring, 1938, involving the story of a few more descendants in the lineage of the ill-fated Palmer family.

In this stand-alone portion of the story, we are reintroduced (for the first time, i suppose, since no one has yet read the first section of this story) to “Jack” as Annie Palmer’s imaginary friend.

Let me take a moment to recap the story of Falls the Shadow. There are two parts. In “Then”, which chronicles three separate horrific events in the history of the Palmer family tree – Ralph Palmer’s descent into insanity; the trials and tribulations of Nicolette Palmer, which we have explored in part; and the terrible events of December 13, 1976, which lead to… well, you’ll see in a few minutes – we explore the history of the Palmer family. In “Now”, which is as-of-yet unwritten, we follow Annie Palmer as an adult.

The events of all of these stories revolve around one central setting: the Palmer House Hotel in Sauk Centre, Minnesota. This is a real place. However, it is the only nonfiction piece of the story. All of the characters are completely fictional, and any resemblance to actual – in name or otherwise – folks is purely unintentional.

Today’s story, as I mentioned, is about Annie Palmer. Her friend “Jack” is a bit of a troublemaker in this tale.

Enjoy!

———

1

Annie Palmer sat up in bed and looked over at the clock. The big hand was almost on the five, and the little hand — she couldn’t see it real well — was on the two one’s, she thought.

let’s get a snack, annie

Perfect time for a snack.

When her feet touched the hardwood floor, she jumped back into bed. The springs squeaked as she wriggled back under the blankies. Cold, it was cold out there. No slippers. Where are they?

over by the closet, annie

There they are!

She was looking over near the closet, and turned her body out from the bed again, sat on the edge. As she got ready to jump off the bed, she held herself back, looked over the edge to the cold, cold floor, and thought for a minute. When she did this, her mouth slid to one side of her face, and her whole head tilted the other direction. She thought that was a funny — but very effective — way to think.

And like always, the solution came quicker with the funny face. She threw her pillow on the ground and hopped down onto it. She put one foot on the left edge, the other on the right edge, and held the pillow under her feet just like that, longways. She scooted her right foot forward, causing the pillow to twist under her left foot, and crab walked this way across the room to her slippers. She jumped into them, and left her pillow to sleep on the floor by the closet, cause it wouldn’t be cold without blankies.

Her slippers had bunnies on them, and one had two ears, and one had one ear. Russet, the family German shepherd, had the other one. He ate it, all gone, no pieces left. Annie felt sad for one-ear bunny, but she knew he was OK because he was always smiling.

annie i’m hungry

Let’s get snack, I’m starvin-marvin.

She walked to the door. It was cracked a little; mom always left if cracked a little that way the light from the bathroom could find its way in and help her see, in case she needed to tinkle, but tonight was all about snacks. Maybe tinkle later.

When she got closer to the door, she heard mommy and daddy talking in their room. They were talking awful loud for it being so late, Annie thought.

She slowly, carefully, quietly opened the door, just a little at a time, and she felt like it took forever.

hurry annie, snack

I’m hurrying, I going fast as Speedy Gonzalez if he was quiet.

The door finally stood wide enough for her to slip through, and she snuck to the stairs, and began to descend.

careful on the third stair, annie

Careful on the third stair, it screaks.

She was careful, but the stair still screaked. Annie winced and kept moving, a little more slowly than she had been.

When she got to the bottom of the stairs, she ran (still quite though) to the kitchen and opened the frigerator. She got ham and a slice of cheese, mayonnaise, and some pickles. She put these on the counter, and then walked to the pantry. Annie opened the pantry door and saw that the bread was way up there, and she couldn’t reach it.

I can’t reach it.

no, but i can

The loaf of bread jumped a little, showed over the edge of the third shelf up in the pantry. It jumped again.

Almost got it!

almost…

Annie put her arms out as if she were going to catch a football. The bread twitched a little bit, scooted a little more, and then fell. She snatched the bread out of the air and giggled out loud when it landed on her arms.

quiet annie

Oh, no!

Annie dropped the bread and put both hands over her mouth to stifle the rest of the giggles. Once she thought they were done, she moved her hands, curled them into fists, ready to snap over her mouth again if they needed to, and stood silently in the dark kitchen for a few moments.

That was close.

that was close

She picked up the bread and walked to the counter. She hoisted it up, and went to the silverware drawer. She pulled the drawer out, and the silver sparkled, even in the dim moonlight that filtered in through the kitchen window.

not the sharp ones, remember

Right, not the sharpuns.

Annie reached for a butter knife, and then froze.

She heard a click, and blinked. She was surrounded by light.

———

Alice Palmer let out a heavy sigh.

“I don’t know, Andy. I just don’t think we can do that.”

“Why not? It seems legit to me.”

“Uproot our family and move across the country and run a hotel? I don’t think it’s worth it.”

“But Grandpa Gerald left it to me. I think it would be pretentious of us to just turn around and waste this opportunity.”

“Do you know anything about running a hotel?”

“Well, no,” Andy Palmer said. “But I’m sure between the two of us, we can figure it out.”

“Let’s just get some slee –” There was a giggle and a thump from downstairs. “She’s at it again, Andy. Will you take care of it this time?”

“Why don’t we both go. Maybe she’ll be excited about the move.”

“Don’t say anything about that tonight,” Alice said. “Let’s just see if we can get her to understand that four years old and sandwiches for breakfast in the dark without mommy and daddy is a no-no, huh?”

“Allright.”

Andy and Alice climbed out of bed, and walked downstairs, careful not to squeak the third step and tip Annie off.

———

“Honey, what are you doing?” Andy Palmer asked his daughter when he saw that she had the silverware drawer open and had been reaching into it. He knew perfectly well that she was making a sandwich, because that’s what Annie did at five o’clock in the morning, almost every morning for the past month.

“I’m making a sannich, daddy. What are you doing?”

She drew out the word “you” and Andy couldn’t help but smile at his daughter.

“Mornin mommy!” Annie said.

“Good morning, sweetie,” Alice said.

“I stayed away from the sharpuns, mommy. Jack told me not to touch them.”

Alice’s face creased with worry. She wasn’t sure she liked this Jack friend that Annie had made up. In fact, Annie was so adamant about the whole thing that Jack seemed almost real.

“That’s good, Annie. Tell Jack thank you for taking care of our little monkey.” Alice walked to her daughter and scooped her up in a big hug.

“I will, mommy.” Annie squeezed her mother right back.

“Annie,” Andy said, “we need to talk about your sandwiches, sweetie.”

“I know, daddy, I’m not sposed to get up and make sanniches. I’m sposed to get you and mommy and ask you to make the sanniches.”

“That’s right, hon. And why is that?”

“Because it’s dangernous, specially if I get the sharpuns to spread the mayornaise.”

“That’s right, Annie. Now let’s all get back to bed, what do you say?”

“Can I sleep in your bed daddy?”

Andy tossed a glance at his wife, who was biting her bottom lip. Her eyes suggested that it was Andy’s decision, and he’d better make the right one. He looked again at Annie, sitting in her mother’s arms, those little girl’s eyes just dripping with sweetness, radiating a deep, vast love that melted Andy on the spot.

“Sure, honey. Come on, let’s boogie on up to bed.” Andy could feel his wife’s glare. She always got pushed to the edge and had no covers when Annie was in their bed.

The girls went to bed, and Andy clicked off the kitchen light as he followed after them.

———

2

they want to move, annie, to be close to the hotel

The one you showed me? Where that boy is? Can I play with the red ball?

of course you can.

Good. Why do they want to move?

i’m not sure

Can we find out, Jack? I’d like to know why.

why don’t you ask them?

Cause I think that will scare them. Mommy and daddy get scared real easy. Like when I turned on the stove by myself, they said they were so scared.

that’s true, they do get scared. they want you to be safe, annie.

I don’t know why they worry so much. You always take care of me.

should i take care of mommy and daddy too, annie?

No, Jack, I think they can take care of themselves.

i think i ought to take care of them. the hotel is pretty scary, right?

Well, yes, but they sound like they really want to go. Can’t they make the hotel not-scary?

no

Why not Jack?

(silence)

Jack, why not?

(silence)

Jack, you’re a meanie.

(silence)

i’ll take good care of mommy and daddy

———

At breakfast, Andy read the Chicago Tribune, and pointed out several articles to his wife about how the economy was booming, it was a good time to be an entrepreneur, real estate is in a buyer’s market, bad time to sell.

“It sounds like you’ve already got your mind made up.” She stood by the sink, doing last evening’s dishes.

“Well, honey, I just think it would be a good idea. A change of pace. A small town where Annie can grow up and we won’t have to worry so much about her.”

“We live in the suburbs now. Do you want us to live in the sticks?”

“No, Alice. The hotel is in Sauk Centre, not out in the middle of nowhere. There is a major thoroughfare nearby, and travelers headed west don’t have another big stop for two hundred miles. It’s a good idea.”

“I’m not going to argue with you anymore. Do what you want, cause you always do.”

Andy folded the newspaper and laid it on the table.

“Alice, what’s got you riled up. What’s wrong, honey?”

She hung her head over the sink for a moment, then turned to face Andy.

“I’m just scared, is all, I guess.”

“What are you scared of?”

“Not of, for. For Annie. I’m scared of her friend, Jack.”

“Jack’s imaginary, honey. Why are you scared of him?”

“Because sometimes I think he isn’t imaginary. That’s all. It’s silly, I guess, but sometimes I can almost feel him watching me. I’ll turn to look, and no one is there, not you, not Annie. It’s Jack. He’s watching.”

She heard movement in the living room and turned her head toward the kitchen door. Andy looked, too.

Annie walked through the doorway at that moment.

“I have a question.” She spoke so plainly sometimes.

“Yes, sweetheart, what is it?” Andy asked.

“Why are we going to move and stay at a hotel?”

Andy and Alice looked at each other, her face radiating fear, and his painted with confusion.

———

Andy left for work. He drove to the southeast side of Chicago, pulled into the welfare office parking lot, and turned off the ignition. He sat in his car, staring at the windshield. It was foggy with his wintery breath.

In the fog, he watched as letters appeared.

J-A-C-K

Followed by:

says go away

The esses were backwards. Andy sat stunned for a short while, wondering why the esses were backwards. Then he abruptly pulled the arm of his coat down over his hand and reached up to wipe the words away.

I must not have had enough coffee this morning.

Andy opened the car door, and pushed against the sharp wind. Once outside in the full on bluster, he slammed the door of his Nova shut and gathered his coat around his neck. He walked to the door of the welfare office, and wormed his way inside.

Once he arrived at his office, Andy sat down, and stared at the phone on his desk. He grabbed the handset and turned the dial to call home.

One ring.

He thought about what he would tell Alice. Maybe even why he would tell Alice. Was there really anything to tell?

Two rings.

Now, he began to worry. Alice and Annie were home alone with Jack, and what was Jack doing? How could he do anything?

Had he followed Andy to work, hitched a ride in his car? How could the letters have just magically been drawn on the window?

Three rings.

Andy’s heart rate jumped, and he could feel the beating in his throat. He brushed his hand against his forehead and felt it come away moist. Pick up, pick up Alice. Christ.

Four rings.

And a click.

“Hello, Palmer House, this is Alice.”

Andy was so relieved that she answer he forgot to speak. He sat silent with tears welling in his eyes.

“Hello? Who is this?”

“Alice, hey.” Andy wiped the tear buds from his eyes.

“Hi, hon. Get to work okay?”

“Yeah, fine. Just fine.”

There was a pause. Andy breathed heavily.

“Andy, are you all right?”

“Yeah, fine.”

“You said that already. What’s going on?”

“Oh, nothing. Just a little car trouble this morning. Got me flustered, I guess.” He blushed at the lie, thankful his wife couldn’t see through the telephone.

Another pause.

“Andy Palmer, you had better have out with it. What is going on?”

“All right, Alice, I’ll tell you.”

She sat on the other end of the line and listened to his tale. It was short, but she didn’t interrupt, didn’t ask any questions until she had the whole story.

And then she told him hers.

———

Alice Palmer kissed her husband full on the mouth as he was headed out the door.

“Goobye, handsome. Have a good day,” she called after him. He didn’t respond, but he was running late, so she’d forgive him.

When she closed the door, she turned and saw Annie sitting on the floor in the living room, playing with her Barbie dolls and completely ignoring Lassie, who was yet again barking to Gramps about Timmy, who had fallen into yet another well.

Alice walked into the kitchen and began to set the crock pot full of beef stew for dinner.

As she was chopping potatoes, she heard a small explosion and the tinkle of broken glass from the living room. Her heart was in her throat before her adrenaline caused her to simultaneously leap and turn and run to the doorway.

The television had exploded.

“Annie?” Alice called out, exasperated. The words came out almost as a whisper. On her second attempt, she found her voice. “Annie? Sweetheart?”

There was no answer, but Annie — who had been sitting right in the middle of the living room a moment ago — was nowhere to be seen.

Alice raised her voice and hollered.

“ANNIE!”

No answer, still.

Alice felt a tug at her apron strings.

“Mommy?” A small voice spoke softly beside her. She was so entranced with the television pieces that she didn’t immediately respond. Alice looked down at her daughter, mouth agape, eyes wide.

“Mommy, who broke the TV?” she asked, and pointed into the living room.

Alice’s gaze returned to the disaster in the living room. Again, her voice returned.

“I don’t know honey. Do you?”

“No. But I know that we owe Jack anudder thank you, cause he told me to move.”

Alice looked at her daughter, bent down and grabbed her shoulders.

“Did Jack do this?”

Annie was a little frightened, but tried to be strong for mommy.

“No, I don’t think so, mommy. I aksed him, but he didn’t answer.”

She relaxed her grip on her daughter’s shoulders and stood, and walked into the living room. The glass from the tube was almost like powder scattered across the carpet.

Alice wasn’t sure that she was really seeing what she saw. It looked as if someone had made tracks through the glass and debris, had spelled words, the way you try to in deep snow in the winter.

She could only make out two words.

we stay

———

3

When Andy arrived home, the house was dark, almost looked abandoned, was a completely different house that it had been when he left this morning.

He thought about the conversation he’d had with his wife this morning, about the look of terror that had emaciated her face when Annie asked about the move. Neither of them had mentioned anything to her about it, yet. They weren’t even sure they were going to go through with it.

But Annie was supposed to start school next year, and if they were going to get out of Chicago, this was certainly the opportunity to take to make it so.

But her face had looked so… aged, so tired, so afraid.

Andy pulled into the driveway, turned off the Nova and stepped out. He was hit with a whiff of decay, like some animal had crawled under the house and died there weeks ago.

A breeze ruffled his hair, and caused the smell to fly away. He walked to the door and turned the knob. It was locked. He fished his keys out of his pocket, and inserted the house key, turned it. The key broke.

Andy knocked on the door, and peered in through the glass front.

The inside of the house was dark, too. He knocked again. No one came, no voices floated to him, nothing came but a gnawing fear in the pit of his stomach.

What has Jack done?

He banged on the door now, rattled the knob.

No answer.

He continued to bang, continued to rattle, started to kick.

No answer.

He used his elbow to break the glass and pulled his jacket over his hand to shove some of the shards out of the way. He reached in and sliced his hand on a glass protrusion that he had missed, noted that it looked like a giant fang. He found the lock, turned it, and pulled his hand back outside.

The door opened freely, now.

Andy barely pushed the door, or so he thought, but it flew open and slammed against the wall in the entranceway, and the remaining glass in the door tumbled out of it and tinkled to the ground. He stepped inside, heard the gritty rumble of the glass as his feet crushed it.

There was only silence inside, and a draft of cold air crawled over him.

“Alice?” he called.

No answer.

Andy took three steps into the front hall and peered around the doorway that led to the living room. The television was destroyed, just as Alice had told him it would be.

More steps, more crunching. Lots of glass for such a small window, he thought.

“Annie?” He tried calling his daughter, and again received no response.

He walked through the living room and looked into the kitchen. Appliances were strewn across the floor, the refrigerator door hung open, the top hinge was busted. Food lay scattered in front of it. He continued to walk through the kitchen, headed to the stairwell.

An interesting thought crossed Andy’s mind, and he called out again, feeling silly even as the words escaped his mouth.

“Jack? Are you here?”

Andy froze where he stood, one food settled into a puddle of mustard.

Laughter floated along on the draft floating through his house. Deep, slow laughter. Frightening laughter. It didn’t quite sound real, and certainly wasn’t human.

Strangely enough, the laughter sounded hollow.

As it died away, the foodstuffs launched themselves off the floor and pelted Andy. He found his body able to move once again, and took three strides to reach the stairs. He ran up them, if for no other reason that to get away from the food fight the kitchen was having with itself.

When he reached the top of the stairs, he called out again.

“Alice? Annie? Anyone home?” His voice was shaking, despite his effort to keep it sounding calm.

Still, no answer came.

He crossed the balcony to his bedroom door, hoping to find Alice there, hoping to find out what in the hell had happened here. Hoping, really, to find out why Hell had opened up in his house.

He grabbed the doorknob, and was shocked to find it icy cold. He turned it quickly, and flung the door open. He saw Alice laying at the foot of the bed, the carving knife from the set he had gotten her for Christmas three years ago was buried halfway to the hilt in her chest, a puddle of blood forming around her.

Andy doubled over, sick to his stomach, and backed away.

I’ve got to find Annie, he thought, but he couldn’t remove his eyes from the gore that had taken up roost in his bedroom.

He was about four feet out the door when he heard an ungodly voice behind him.

Daddy?

It was deep, but at the same time, there was a whine that completed a harmony inside the voice. There were several voices, wrapped together like a symphony, and they all spoke that one, questioning word: daddy?

Andy was terrified by the voice, and his body reacted without his instruction; it spun him around, left leg mashed into the shag carpet along the balcony, right foot behind, tangling itself with the other, and he felt himself falling, felt his hand reach for the railing that stood between him and the living room below, and felt it give way. He heard the shotgun crack the wood made as his body fell against it, felt the railing slip from his hand as it tumbled to the ground below.

He saw Annie standing in front of her bedroom door at the other end of the walkway, and saw the fear in her eyes as his body tumbled over after the railing.

“Daddy!”

He heard her squeal, how frail and human and full it sounded, and he smiled up at his daughter. He tried to speak, tried to say it’ll be all right, honey, but he wasn’t able to. He tumbled over the edge of the balcony, and as his face turned through the air with his body, he saw the jagged wooden posts of the rail staring up at him. They seemed to form a smile, a mouth, as if whatever had cause the simply coincidental failure of the railing at the exact instant of his most dire need for it was planning to eat him alive.

He felt the stabbing pain in seven distinct places along his right leg and torso as the spikes penetrated him.

Before Andy Palmer died, he heard his little girl from above.

“Daddy, it’ll be OK. Jack will take care of you now.”

———

fin