The Cold, Dark Room

The Cold, Dark Room

                                                       ©KENNETH E. HALL            24 May, 2014              Houston

It was a typically hot, humid summer day in New Orleans. Beads of sweat already covered my chest and forehead as I entered my Aunt Anna's  side yard. I walked past the huge garage/shed where my Uncle Frank kept his old Packard car, and went into the shop where I'd play race-car driver - using a huge vise as a pretend steering wheel. I guess everyone has his, er, vice. 

It was a Saturday, and I was off from school. I'd usually spend Saturdays at my grandparents, but my aunt, who lived around the corner told me to come on over anytime.

I enjoyed the visits, and even played "Battle" card games with Grandma, my Great-Grandmother. Other things I liked about going there were watching TV -  they had a TV set (black & white in those days), and that my aunt fixed me hot dogs (my favorite) for lunch. Those things are important to a nine-year-old! Back in the early 1960's, there were only a few programs for children on Saturday mornings, and after about 11:30, there wasn't much for a kid to see on the tube at all. Phooey!!

Amazingly enough, I found other things to do to entertain myself that did not involve sedentary electronic non-interaction, and also, and most importantly, I did something that would not get me into trouble!

There were old bricks to stack, tools in the garage, and so many other activities. I would even enjoy seeing my aunt's old, green glass "demijohn" a bottle of water that was kept in many houses of New Orleans long ago to be used to put out fires. I could also kill fire ants - the BANE of my existence - using chlordane dust to get my revenge for numerous painful attacks. There were even many stepping stones to overturn - to see what crawls beneath, and I found many a creepy-crawly that would make any neighborhood little girl shriek in fear.

Needless to say, I was never bored.

Sometimes I'd go into the other, smaller shed - the one in the back of the house. It was substantial and well-built; perhaps it should not be called a shed at all. It could have easily been used as a small apartment. It was divided into two areas. The first was where the door opened into from the outside and the other part further inside I knew nothing about at all. 

I would come in from the bright summer sunlight and into this room, and look around. As my eyes became accustomed to the diminished light, I could see the plethora of mundane objects stacked all about. Nothing unusual. (I say this only because I wish to emphasize that there was nothing extraordinary about this back building that would attract or occupy the interest of a nine-year-old boy for more than a few minutes at a time.)  

I then saw a doorway that led into the adjoining room - the one I had not yet explored. Unlike everything else, this second part of the shed seemed dark, sinister, and foreboding. There were cobwebs on the corners of the doorway - not a welcoming sign to a budding arachnophobe like me. 

Just looking at that doorway gave me the creeps! Even so, I approached the doorway and got a greater feeling of dread the closer I got. Something inside me warned not to come any closer, so I decided to continue my exploration the following week. 

Next Saturday, I felt the call of curiosity - or of the place itself, and after lunch I went there once again. As my eyes got used to the light, I saw that same doorway, eerily inviting as before. I cautiously turned the porcelain knob and the door opened at my push with a "squeeeeee!" 

I saw the gossamer cobwebs bow out slightly now as a current of cold air hit me. This did not bode well. Nevertheless, I was determined to go inside, as if there was someone - or something calling me. 

Curiosity overcame fear, and I found myself actually stepping into the room,  but only a pace or two, for I dared go no further!. I stayed perfectly still for a few minutes - riveted to the floor - half in fear of the unknown,  half because I could not see well in the near total darkness.

Cobwebs, chilly air, and squeaking doors! Stuff like this is where they get the ideas for ghost movies, and Halloween Haunted Houses, I thought.

A minute or two passed, and once again my eyes adjusted to the greatly-diminished illumination that filtered in from the next room. I began to become more aware that there was something in this room - something that was pulling me inward - something that wanted me there. My heart started to beat faster. I decided to press on, and I did so as if guided by something unseen and unknown. 

My gaze, for some strange reason,  was drawn to a row of wooden cabinets. Focusing upon them, I started to stare at one of them, and one in particular. It became crystal clear to me that this room contained some mysterious thing - or being - and whatever secret this hidden room held was inside this very cabinet!!

I bit my lip, and I was shaking from both the coldness of the room and from a terror which had gripped me ever since my eyes fell onto that cabinet door.  My mind went wild with macabre imaginings! There was something inside, something sinister, something horrible...

Whatever it was that I feared, it was waiting for me behind that cabinet door!!

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My throat and lips were dry. I swallowed hard, and against my own better judgement, grabbed the cabinet latch - and opened the door very slowly. "Sqeeeeeeeee!!" went the rusty hinges as I gradually opened the cabinet door. I peered inside and saw a vast nothingness inside, a blackness blacker than dark itself!!  It seemed to penetrate deep to the lowest recesses of the earth! 

At first I could see nothing, as I said, not a solitary thing but that ink-black obscurity. My heart was now racing - I could actually hear it pounding within my chest. There was still time to reconsider, I realized - still time to run, and run fast and furiously - time yet there was to escape whatever awaited me... but something held me there in place. What was that force? Call it morbid curiosity, blind stupidity, or an attraction from the Great Beyond...Call it what you like. But there I stood, the cabinet door before me was opened wide unto a vast void descending into the bowels of Hell itself, for all I knew - and for all I feared!

Again my eyes adjusted to the near total darkness - and I began to make out a shape:

Inside the cabinet, staring me right in the face,  was a HUMAN HEAD!!!!

Frightened beyond screaming, I fled the room and the shed itself in abject TERROR!!! I ran like I never ran before - or since. The midsummer's sunlight dazzled me, bathing me in a shower of heat, in stark contrast to the bone-chilling cold of that horrible place. Once outside in the perceived safety of the mid-afternoon daylight, I caught my breath, collected my thoughts, and it hit me: Aunt Anna was married years ago to Uncle Frank. Whatever happened to him?  Nobody ever told me what happened to him!!  He just disappeared!! He was gone...And now I've found him!

I ran inside quickly, nervous and upset after such a gruesome discovery, but I had to tell Aunt Anna that I finally found Uncle Frank - or what was LEFT of him...I barged into the dining room and blurted out that I had just found ...Uncle Frank's head!!

Now, Aunt Anna was a tough old lady, but she was very much taken aback by my bolting in all excited, blurting out crazy stuff about finding Uncle Frank.

"What's the matter, Chèr?" She asked, "What's all this about?"

I told her about the spooky old room out in the back shed, and about the creepy cabinet - and especially about the man's HEAD!!

She walked out back with me - I stayed a little behind her, just in case. She went into the shed alone, as I held my breath. After what seemed an eternity, Aunt Anna came out with that gory thing that scared me so much. I covered my eyes with my hands and gasped in fear. She took it and put it in a bench by the door, and, I removed my hands from my face. I just stood there - eyes wide-opened in terror, and before me I beheld...   

......a terra cotta Chia Pet head!!

It took me a few minutes to realize that this was only a clay head - a gag object onto which one would plant little grass seeds. Aunt Anna explained this to me, as I stood riveted in fear even now. She told me that someone had given that to her long ago as a funny gift. I did NOT think it was funny at all. And if that was not Uncle Frank, then where WAS he, anyway???

She explained to me that her husband has passed away several years ago, while I was living in Washington, D.C., and thought I had heard about his death. She had a good laugh, but I still eyed that clay head thing with suspicion.

Most of our deepest fears are brought about or increased when we delve into the unknown. Our minds can often play tricks on us, and our imagination takes over, sometimes leading us to wrong conclusions. When the light is low and details get blurry, our brain sometimes fills in those dark places with details of its own. Things change quite a bit when brought into the light of day. 

It's all a matter of perspective!

For years, that head sat on the bench, right where my Aunt Anna put it when she removed it from its dark cabinet. But I never again ventured into the back shed.... I was still convinced that there was something waiting for me to find. Perhaps when it comes to things of that sort, the unknown is best left as just that - UNKNOWN!

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If you enjoyed this story, you might find this interesting also:http://kennyduke.blogspot.com/2014/04/a-night-in-graveyard.html
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This is the WELCOME PAGE of my blog. It will tell you how I got started writing, and what the aims of this blog are:   http://kennyduke.blogspot.com/p/welcome.html   
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