Chapter Seven - The Reunion
Harrod
When my dad returned from work that night, he called me into his room.
“Harrod,” he began. “Have you given any thought to what we talked about the other day?”
“I thought it was a dream, or that you were joking,” I said.
“Tell me, Harrod,” he said in an ominous tone. “In all the time you have known me, do I come across as a person who jokes or fucks around with people?”
I shook my head.
“Then why would I joke about who we are?”
“It’s just hard to believe, to take in all this supernatural stuff just because you say so.”
“Very well,” he said. “You will head to the farmlands tomorrow. I’ll let Grandpa know you’re coming. I am sure you’ll be excited to see your brother. The next full moon is not for another three weeks. You will have plenty of time to understand and get used to things. As you have implied, you will believe things when you see them.”
“You can’t be serious,” I said. I had always wanted to go to the farmlands, but my dad had never allowed me. Now that I could actually go, I wasn’t sure whether I was excited or not.
“I am. I’ll send in your clearance early. You leave at noon tomorrow. It’s best to get there while the sun is out. Pack your things.”
“Okay,” I said, excited.
Around 11:30 the next day, Gabe knocked on my door. “Sir, the jet will be ready to depart in half an hour. I have already loaded your bags.”
I walked down the stairs and across the gardens to the runway. The heat was radiating from the dark asphalt, as though there was water boiling underneath. After the security swipe, the officers cleared me to go. I hopped on board and prepared for a reunion with my brother. I wondered what he would be like, how tall he’d be, whether he had missed me, what his personality would be like, etc.
I fell asleep soon after take-off. When I woke up, I headed to the pilot’s cabin.
“Drew? I didn't know you could fly planes.”
“It’s how your father prefers it,” he said.
“And why is there no hostess on board?”
“Your father’s instructions.”
“Weird,” I said.
“Oh, you have no idea,” he said savagely. “Enjoy the view,” he said. “We’re almost there.”
I went back to my seat and opened the shutter. All I saw down below were snow-capped mountains and jumbo trees. If I didn’t know better, I’d wager we were in the Swiss Alps, but it takes a lot longer to get there, so I knew we were still in the States.
“Buckle up,” said Drew, over the speakers. “It’s gonna get bumpy.”
We landed on a small runway in a clearing. Drew opened the door and ushered me out. “I have to head back. They’ll be here soon.”
“Who will be here?” I asked. “Where am I, Drew? There’s nothing here.”
“Your Grandpa has been alerted of your arrival. He’ll come pick you up.”
Drew unloaded my luggage and left it a little off the runway, then got back into the plane, nodded to me and closed the door. I watched as he turned the plane around, taxied and flew off, disappearing into the clouds. Then I looked around. The runway was just a small patch of road that led nowhere. There were no roads or buildings around. I was standing in a forest on a mountain surrounded by trees. The trees looked familiar, like the giant ones I saw in my dreams, but the place was different.
“Hello,” I hollered into the emptiness around me. “Is there anyone here?”
There was a rustling in the trees and the distant howl of a wolf.
“Grandpa,” I shouted again, the word tasting strange in my mouth. I couldn’t really remember the last time I talked to him or saw him. I’d probably seen him back when Harrison was with us. I almost wanted to run into the woods, out of the clearing, but I stayed where I am. I pulled out my phone to call my dad but there was no service here.
Then I heard more howls, closer this time, more terrifying. I took a step back and looked around, looking for some tree to climb up in case wild animals attacked. In the distance, I saw two figures approaching. I couldn’t tell whether they were human or not. The white clouds were close to the ground, reducing the visibility.
A man with white hair approached, with a woman who seemed to be in her early forties.
“Harrod,” he shouted, arms opening wide.
“Grandpa?”
“It’s been so long,” he said, hugging me tightly. He was surprisingly strong for his age. “Oh, boy, I have waited for this for so long.” He kissed me on the cheek, and I pulled back.
“How are you?”
“I must be a stranger to you,” he said. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten me. You sound so formal.”
“That’s natural,” I said. “You just disappeared from my life.”
“You’ll learn we aren’t big on formalities here, boy.” Then he looked at the woman standing next to him. “This is Mishayev. She’ll be your guide and trainer here and will see to all your needs.”
Mishayev smiled and shook my hand firmly. Her hair was a mix of gray and black streaks, and I couldn’t tell whether it is white with black streaks or the other way around. She looked intimidating.
“Let’s head back to the village,” he said. “It’s gonna get dark any time now.”
There was nothing to guide us, no landmarks, no signs, not even a trail. But Grandpa and Mishayev seemed to know their way and went through the woods like expert navigators, toward what they call The Den.
When I heard the word Den, all I could think of is stone caves, like the ones I’d seen in The Jungle Book. After fifteen minutes of ambling through the woods, we reached a large fence, thick as prison bars, with two guys wearing fur coats standing guard inside. They let us in and Grandpa turned to me.
“So, first things first. Stay away from the fences, they are high voltage. We aren’t immune to electricity. Don’t go outside without talking to me first. Our Den is vast, so you won’t have to go out. There’s nothing for you outside anyway. You are safe only as long as you are inside the fenced boundary.”
“Okay.”
The trees inside the fence were sparse, taller and mostly crooked, forming a roof over the clearing. There were wooden cabins here and there, with smoke emitting from the chimneys. A large fireplace was set in what seems like a sitting area, and a few guys sitting around the fire drinking. Even here the spirit of the holidays had reached. Someone had hung up a large wreath over the opening of one of the cabins. Elsewhere I saw mistletoe bunches hanging from the branches. I spied a red Santa cap even and I could have sworn I heard someone singing carols. There was a deer suspended above the fire on a stick to cook.
There was a great hustle bustle all around, with some children running wild and playing. But my eyes were fixed on a guy walking towards us. The hairs on my arms stuck up as if I’d been electrocuted as he came closer. I looked into his eyes. There was something about them, something familiar. My soul trembled when I saw him and tears welled up in my eyes. It was as if I was getting something that I never even knew I longed for.
He was the same height as me. He was wearing a fur coat, which looked as though he made it himself. He picked up the pace when he saw me and jogged toward us. Unlike the movies, nothing dramatic happened. He looked at my grandpa with innocent eyes.
“Grandpa, I don’t really—” I began.
“Grandpa?” the guy said, a look of surprise and shock on his face. His mouth moved but no words came out, as his eyes fixed on me.
It had to be him. I knew it was him. Tears were running down my cheeks.
“Harrison?”