Chartan and the Wood Blocks

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(Last week: Chartan,  haunted by the dead passengers, is drawn to a strange house where an old woman with a gun claims she knows he is the limo driver with the dead passengers.)

Chartan turned from the old woman and ran to his car. He could her laughing.  She is the evil in that house.

He jerked the Bentley from the curb, accelerating ten miles per hour above the speed limit for several blocks before slowing down. He tried to drown out her voice—“I know who you are”—but couldn’t. He refused to look in the back seat. Soon he was in the apartment complex parking lot.

He stopped at the top of the stairwell. Gina was standing in the threshold.

“I saw you pull in,” she said, but Chartan thought he heard, “I know who you are.”

“Are you alright?” she asked.

He was breathing heavily, a few feet from Gina. He looked at her intently before putting his arms around her.

“I’ve been thinking about those dead passengers.”

Gina squeezed him. “Jake is playing with his blocks—why don’t you help him?”

A few minutes later Chartan was on his stomach facing an array of wood blocks and Jake who was showing him how to properly stack them to make a wall.

The cell phone in his pocket began to vibrate. He rolled on his side and retrieved it. Sloan was calling.

“Chartan here.”

“Can you drive in an hour? Your old friend Minerva wants to run a few errands—she says it won’t take long.”

Chartan sat up on the floor. “I can’t.”

“You sure?”


“Are you okay?”

He hung up and turned the phone off.

Jake’s six-inch high wall stretched across the room.

Chartan placed the phone next to the center of the block wall. “Let’s build a wall around the phone.”

Jake clapped his hand: “Me do it, daddy.”

“Who was that? asked Gina.

“Sloan—he wanted me to drive and I said I couldn’t.”

“Good. How about you take Jake and me for a ride?”

He was about to say he was going to return the Bentley to Sloan’s, but was stopped by Gina’s smile.”

Continued next Sunday…

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