A Door into the Past Pt. 7

Well, this weeks post is pretty special to me. I really feel like the story just got some real traction. Things are going to move quite quickly here soon. I was wondering for a while if I hadn't accidentally started a novel instead of a short story, but no worries I see an ending on the horizon. I hope you enjoy this next installment.

Part 1.

Last Week.

Part 7.

Marcus fell to his knees. “I'm getting this abortion...” kept ringing in his ears. It was all he could hear. He felt sick and weak at the same time. She never even asked him. It was all he could do to stand. He walked to the bedroom. Abigail was sleeping soundly. A small smile on her face. Marcus ignored her as best he could. His grabbed his wallet and left.

“I'm getting this abortion... I'm getting this abortion...” it was on loop in his mind. All he heard the entire driving. Walking up the stairs to his office he was numb with it. His mind was lost to the power of those words. He of course was surprised when Thomas tapped on his shoulder.

“Hello Earth to Marcus. You awake man? I need to know where you are on those revisions. Remember I gave you a week. You need to have all the revisions ironed out by tomorrow if you hope to be ready in time.” Thomas almost sounded kind. Marcus didn't know if it was true or simply in his head it didn't matter.

“Yeah, the revisions. I'll have them ready tomorrow. Let me print a copy of what I have so far.” The copy printed and Thomas hardly seemed to notice how distant Marcus' voice was as he listened to the explanation of the revisions.

“Okay looks good to me. Remember I want this finalized tomorrow and ready to go to the rest of the team so that everything can be set by weeks end. These have to be done in time for our summer series launch.” Thomas walked out the room. Looking back he saw Marcus with head hung low, he did not stop.

The numbness continued throughout the rest of the day. His once bright and exciting project was now simply a tolerated diversion. His drive home was a blink of an eye. He didn't remember getting to his house. He didn't remember taking a chair upstairs. He didn't remember sitting in front of the door for hours.

“Marcus! What the hell are you doing?” Abigail was shaking him. She looked worried.

“Did you do it?” Marcus was blank faced he didn't even look at her.

“Do what? What is wrong? How long have you been here?” Abigail had genuine concern on her face. Marcus was finally gaining his wits. His legs were sore from sitting as he stood up next to his wife. Looking her in the face he saw her confusion.

“Did you really have an abortion? Was it mine?” Marcus looked at her. Her eyes grew with shock. She looked away. Her face grew red quickly and a tear formed and fell. Her knees gave out and she landed on the floor.

“How did you find out about the abortion?” she still didn't look at him. Marcus couldn't think of how to answer that particular question. He didn't think the door telling him was a plausible response.

“I heard you talking to Jen one time. I guess with my job stuff I thought it was time I found out.” Marcus knew it was a weak lie, but hoped it would suffice. She looked up at him. Her whole face and person was in disarray. Black eyeliner ran lines down her now rosy cheeks. Her eyes were filled with red lightning and swollen near closed. He wondered why he couldn't sympathize.

“I guess it doesn't matter. It was yours. I'm sorry. I didn't know if we would even stay together. I was just starting college. I had so many classes. I was working. It was all too much. I... I didn't tell you, because I didn't really even know you yet. We had only been dating a couple months.” she seemed genuine. Her pain was so real. The guilt must have grown for years. Yet he still couldn't sympathize. It was too hurtful a secret.

As Marcus packed his bag he faintly heard her pleas behind him.

“I just need some space. I can't believe you lied to me like this.” Marcus went outside and got in his car. As the engine started he felt something be left behind. He pulled the car out and drove away. The hotel down the street would have sufficed, but he had work to do. He parked outside the door, he didn't bother using an actual parking spot. As he walked up the stairs to his office he saw the sun setting in his mind and he knew what he had to do.

A Door into the Past Pt. 6

Marcus is a lot like me. He thinks and reacts similarly to myself. Also, I can only remember things I don't want to and can't forget the things I want to. But I think he is probably much better at focusing than I am. I hope you enjoy todays piece.

Part 1.

Last Week.

Part 6.

The day went by like a blur. Thomas kept his distance and Marcus was too afraid to seek him out. Marcus didn't know what to think, the letter seemed sincere. On the drive home Marcus saw another sunset the sun seemed to be going away leaving nothing but darkness behind.

Abigail his dinner set when Marcus got home. It was a spread of leftovers. In every way Abigail lacked in domesticity, she more than made up for in personality. He remembered the first he saw her. He was waiting in line in the dormitory cafeteria. She was serving mashed potatoes. Or some sort of white sludge. Her hair was in a net yet it still shown a beautiful auburn. She was talking to another server about this book series. Some sort of knights and magic thing. She was glowing as she discussed the story. She didn't even notice Marcus, but he noticed her.

As they prepared for bed Marcus tried to remember the last time Abigail had read a book, he couldn't. How had he not noticed before. Marcus decided then and there he was gonna try and find Abigail a new book.

“Hey babe, do you remember what that book series you were reading in college was called? The one with the knights and magic and stuff?” Marcus tried to make the question sound off-handed.

“Um, let me think. That must have been the Mist Caller Chronicles. That's pretty random though. What brought that up?”

“I was just thinking about the first time I saw you. I couldn't remember the name of the books you were talking about.”

“Oh yeah. Those books were pretty lame in retrospective. Just some flimsy love triangle with really flat characters, but you know sometimes that stuff is nice.”

Marcus decided he wouldn't get her more of those books then. Obviously she didn't read those any more. Maybe he could get her those vampire books everyone was reading. She said she wanted to see the movies when they had come out. Marcus decided he'd check the book store on the way home tomorrow. It was time for bed.

As Marcus slept all he saw was the figure caressing Abigail's leg. And her laughter thick with sexuality chased him through the dreams. His alarm went off right as he was about to distinguish the figure. Showering and dressing had finally become mundane in the new house. He knew where everything was and there was no more searching required. He didn't even notice the door as he passed it. Going downstairs he went to the kitchen and put some waffles in the toaster. It was then that he noticed that he had forgotten his wallet.

“I guess I haven't completely gotten used to this new routine.”

Walking up the stairs he watched the door as he ascended. A thin spray of light was coming out of the keyhole.

“Not again. I'll ignore it.”

As he walked passed he heard Abigail's voice.

“Marcus wouldn't understand.” The door was louder than usual. It was calling him.

Looking back Marcus couldn't stop. He had to see what this new mirage was. As the opening came into focus Marcus saw Abigail sitting in a waiting room. She looked much younger this must have taken place during college. Abigail's friend Jenny was holding Abigail comforting her. They were both crying.

“He'd understand that you aren't ready to have a kid. You want to finish college first.” Jenny spoke comfortingly.

“No Jenny. I'm getting this abortion and Marcus must never know.”

A Door into the Past Pt. 5

 Wow, I really got into todays piece. I was writing it and went wow I just really screwed this story up didn't I. Then I decided, well this is what feels right so whatever. I hope you enjoy part 5.

Part 1. 

Last Week.

Part 5.

As he pulled up to the factory Marcus noticed something strange. Thomas' car was there already. Marcus did not want this. He had planned to be alone a few more hours. There was nothing he could do now. Marcus parked in his usual spot and made for the side door he always used. Waiting at the door was Thomas.

“Hey, Marcus I am so glad you finally got here. Usually you're hear about twenty minutes earlier. 5:20 is late for you, but I suppose I can hardly complain.” Thomas struck his cigarette butt against the wall. Ash and sparks were tossed by a slight breeze. Though there was a garbage can right next to him Thomas threw the cigarette on the ground. It inflamed Marcus. “I'll be frank. I saw shoe. It is amazing. We'll do a couple tweaks I thought up and have it ready to start production in no time. I can't believe one day in this job and I already got a sure hit.” Thomas stopped after noticing Marcus' expression.

Marcus just looked at Thomas. He had stopped in his tracks as soon as Thomas mentioned the designs. This was all wrong. He had put them in his desk. This was a violation and beyond that he felt the design was being stolen from him. A few tweaks. That meant a slight measurement alteration and then both their names will appear on it. Thomas will probably even put his name first. It was too much and too soon.

“You touch a single thread on my designs and I will quit taking them with me. I have had it with your medaling. You haven't even designed one shoe that has sold higher than 5^th in a year. Any designs that we collaborated on you sat in the back and watch as I did the real work. You are nothing more than an ass kissing dog who deserves to have his nose rubbed in some fresh shit he just left all over my lawn.” Marcus couldn't believe the words as he said them. Thomas stood their slightly agape. It was the first time Marcus had stood up to him. Marcus however was unsure which of them was more surprised.

“I had no idea you felt that way. So, I'm a dog am I? Well, this dog has teeth Marcus. You remember that. Go back to work. I want those designs production read in a week.” Thomas sneered as he spoke. His once shocked face was now cold hard vengeance.

Marcus knew he couldn't get the designs ready in a week, but what was he supposed to do. He knew he was over reacting. They had been friends hadn't they, but he couldn't get the image out of his head. The hand touching his wives thigh. Her giggling. It wasn't an innocent touch. He could tell he knew.

Arriving in his office he saw all the papers laying out on the table. There was a letter as well.

Marcus,

If I didn't catch you at the door I just wanted to tell you how amazed I am by your work. This piece will be more popular than any of the ones you've made before. But I guess I'm really writing to say I'm sorry. I know the promotion meant a lot to you. I shouldn't have even applied, but I really felt I needed to. I have always been in your shadow creatively. I just thought this was my big break. I was so worried when you left during my speech. And I went straight to your house. I waited till Abigale got home and I asked if she knew where you were. We were both kind of frightened. So, we waited. Neither of us ate or anything. We were so worried. Then when you got there you were so cold. I guess I was kind of a dick. I don't know. I guess I'm rambling now. The true point of this letter is to say I hope that we can still be friends. I hope it isn't weird for too long.

Your friend,

Thomas

P.S. This really is a kick-ass design dude.

A Door into the Past Pt. 4

As with Bleakman's Bog it gets easier and easier every part. This one was quite easy to write. I feel that I just follow Marcus and allow his perception of the world to lead the way. But, you are here to read about 'A Door into the Past' not my mindless ramblings.

Part 1. 

Last Week.

Part 4.

As Marcus opened the door. He heard a conversation cut off mid-sentence.

“Oh Marcus. Thank God. We were so worried!” Abigale jumped from her seat. The action moved Thomas' hand from her thigh. Moving across the room she hugged Marcus tightly. “I'm so sorry about the promotion. Thomas told me everything. Where were you?”

“I'm sorry I worried you. I kind of needed time alone. I just sat by myself for awhile. I watched the sun go down it was quite beautiful.” stopping before he spoke about the new shoe design Marcus looked over at Thomas. “Sorry I didn't get to congratulate you. I was a little upset about my not getting promoted. I hope I didn't offend.”

“Of course not Marcus. I know how emotional you can get. It is fine. You missed some delicious cake though. And Debbie actually made a move on my. Can you believe it? Miss Unibrow thought I'd be interested.” Thomas laughed at his own joke.

“You know I've never been fond of you calling her that. She is incredibly nice.”

“Should have married her than and left Abby to me.” Thomas winked at them exaggeratedly. “Well, I better be going. Will you make it to work tomorrow Marcus?”

“Bright and early as always. You rarely beat me in. We'll see if this new station changes that.”

The tension was intense. Marcus felt a weight lifted once Thomas left. The cordiality was all a facade between them. Something had changed. Perhaps Marcus only just now saw Thomas for what he was. A bona-fide douche. Or perhaps his jealousy was getting away from him. It didn't matter. He should have been in bed hours ago.

He woke up before his alarm this morning. Marcus was excited about presenting his new shoe design. Getting ready was a breeze. The house was so quite. He noticed this as he walked over what was normally a very squeaky board. It was then that he heard Abigale giggle. But it wasn't from her bedroom. Marcus looked at the door to nowhere. He stepped closer, as if approaching a venomous snake. As he drew closer heard another voice. A male voice. He looked through the key hole again. It was his living room. He saw Abigale on the couch with a man. The man was, the man looked like, Marcus jumped back as his alarm started going off. Putting his eye back to the hole it was dark. Nothing was there. Marcus left the door. Walking back into the bedroom he turned off the alarm.

“Hey baby. You were already up?” Abigale looked at Marcus sleepily.

“Yeah, sorry if I woke you up. I forgot to turn it off.” Marcus looked at Abigale wearily.

“What's wrong Marcus? You still upset? You should call off. They don't even deserve your talent. Choosing Thomas over you. Can you believe it?” she said all the right things, but somehow the words were almost hollow to Marcus.

“Yeah, I'm still a little upset. But I think I'll be okay. I'll see you later.” Marcus kissed Abigale on the forehead and made way for the door.

That figure couldn't have been Thomas. He was touching her thigh. Holding it while he whispered and made Abigale laugh. As Marcus passed the door he thought he heard the giggle again, but he refused to stop. It was all a trick. It was stress based. Soon everything would be normal again.

Getting in his car Marcus made way the shoe factory. He would be there for even the janitors went home. He liked working in the calm. He would like the time alone.

A Door into the Past Pt. 3

This part was so easy to write. I don't know why, but it was. I feel I might have expressed a character better than I ever have in this piece. I don't know if that is true or not. I'll leave that up to you. There isn't a lot that happens in this piece, but I tried to symbolize some stuff and I hope you catch on in the subtext of what does happen. Well, without further delay please enjoy 'A Door into the Past' Pt. 3.

Part 1.
Last Weeks.
Part 3.

Marcus felt like he couldn't get home fast enough. The road was a blur and the lines were an illusion. He didn't remember stopping. But he found himself at a light. It was green. That didn't matter. He sat there and cried. He couldn't believe he was crying. Cars were behind him, people were honking and cursing. He touched the gas ever so gently. He rolled to the side of the road and watched as cars swerved past him. It was a blur. Nothing made sense. He knew the must have imagined the door. It couldn't have been real. It was simply a manifestation of his doubt.

He wasn't sure how long he sat on the side of the road, but as the sun set he saw the orange glow of twilight. It was beautiful. He felt inspired. Turning around he went back to the factory. Luckily he had a key to the side entrance. Turning off the alarm momentarily he went up to his office and started on his work.

If painters used a canvas, Marcus' canvas was a shoe. A shoe has to function. But to find the art and bring it beyond function that is what he did. The contours of the foot could be art in and of themselves. He used them in his designs. This one was going to be a masterpiece. It was too be a canvas slip-on, his favorite style. It would hold to many conventions. But he was going to force some angles in the material. A right angle above the arch exaggerating it. That right angle was broken by a stripe that went above on the front and below on the back. The strip fanned out into a sun burst closing off the shoe's quarter. Where the twin sunbursts met on the back of the quarter he added another right angle. This one however was even more entwined almost woven into the sunbursts. On the toe cap he decided to use a white closed rubber toe cap that reached up to the elongated tongue. The eyelets wouldn't have laces, but elastic connections each one creating the colors of a sunset. The stripe would meet at the bottom of the eyelets where the toe cap ends. The stripe would be an orange gradient into red. The right angles would both be a midnight blue, while the base canvas was a sky blue.

Marcus stood back looking at his sketches and fabric samples. It was beautiful. He left his office and went home. Checking his phone he saw he had seven missed calls. And that it was nearly midnight. How had time flown by so quickly. He called Abigale back, but she didn't answer.

The ride home didn't take long. Abigale's car was in the driveway and so was Thomas'. Marcus wasn't sure if he should go in. At that moment the happenings of that afternoon all rushed back to him. Marcus didn't want to go inside, but he had to do something.

The door was unlocked and he saw two figures sitting in the living room when he looked through the window. Abigale was going to be furious.

A Door into the Past Pt. 2

Welcome to my next installment. I hope you missed me. I know I missed you. Please enjoy my story! 

Check out last week first if you missed it.

Part 2.

Marcus was running late for work. It was uncommon for him, but the move had exhausted him more than he had expected. It was going to be another long day at the office and with the management position opening up his tardiness couldn't have come at a worse time. Walking towards the stairwell he heard something coming from the door to nowhere.

“Your not really considering Marcus are you?” the voice sounded like his buddy Thomas Shoemaker.

“Of course not Thomas, but I have to make it appear that all candidates are considered and it always increases people's workloads when they think a promotion is on the line.” that voice sounded like Mr. Blake the owner of Blake's Shoes.

Marcus stopped in his steps and walked up to the door. The voices laughed and Marcus put his eye to the key hole. He saw Mr. Blake leaning against his desk and...

“What are you doing Marcus? You're late remember?” Abigale asked.

Marcus nearly fell over he was so surprised.

“Um, sorry. I thought I had heard something coming from behind the door. I'll be on my way.” Marcus kissed his wife on the cheek and then leaned in for her lips. She pushed him away. “Love you darling.” Marcus ran out the door.

That evening Marcus tried to pry the door for the first time. He knew what he heard. He just couldn't believe it. It must be a trick of some sort. The door wouldn't budge. He tried even tried to saw between the frame and the door maybe to cut through the latch bolt. However it was too tight. Nothing availed him. He then realized Abigale would be home soon. He but his tools away. It was amazing that he hadn't somehow damaged the frame or door, but he assumed it must just be quality construction.

Abigale brought home Chinese. Marcus hated Chinese, but he tolerated it since it was his wife's favorite. The brushed their teeth, made love, and went to bed. This continued in a similar fashion for some time. The weekends usually involved little home improvement projects and more unpacking. But all the while nothing strange occurred. Eventually the words spoken by the door were forgotten.

“I would like to present the new creative director of Blake's Shoes a man who is all our friend and has been a invaluable asset to the company, Mr. Thomas Shoemaker.” Mr. Blake clapped Thomas on the shoulder as Thomas took his place in front of the small creative team.

Marcus sat in the back of the room. He was dumbfounded. It had been his designs that made the company successful. It had nearly gone bankrupt before he arrived. It was in that moment he remembered what he had saw and heard. Had the door warned him.

“I was as surprised as you all are. My shock was soon replaced with a firm belief that I didn't deserve this. I said why me? And Mister Blake looked at me and said, 'You applied for this now show me you're ready.' Well, Mister Blake today I would like to tell you I am ready. And I think that we are all ready. Because this would not have been possible without you all. Especially my good friend Marcus. Marcus we owe this all to you buddy. We might not even be here today without you.” the whole time Thomas smiled this putrid self-righteous smile. When his eyes landed on Marcus a bit of a sneer creep across his face.

Marcus felt sick. This was all wrong. Thomas continued to speak and laugh, but it was incoherent all Marcus could here was the conversation from the door. It was impossible, yet it had happened. There was something strange about that house. And Marcus was going to find out now.

Slamming his chair back against the wall he walked out of the office. He didn't even bother to punch-out. It didn't matter. They needed him. He was gone. He needed to know about the door. The door to nowhere.

Sketch of the Week 6

Whoa another sketch... Hmm this is starting to get serious. Six weeks is a long time. Well, I hope you all enjoy. I call this piece 'If Houses Could Eat!'.

Sketch of 'If Houses Could Eat!'

Colorfied 'If Houses Could Eat!'