Lophill secrets

There’s some weirdness around Lophill. The people are mellow and calm and tend to be older. But there’s always a darkness around here that I can’t quite put my finger on. So, this visit, which will be my final visit, I want to successfully convince dad to shift in to my apartment. It’s spacious with four bedrooms. That Med school education finally paid off.

I sit patiently in my dad’s dusty old living room. The couch is tearing apart and the yellow foam underneath is visible. Dad walks in calmly after pushing through the jammed door of the store room.

“Look at this Blake. I found it.” He says joyfully, showing me a yellow skein of yarn.

“Will you knit something?” I ask him.

“For Louis” He says, playfully handing the yarn to his pet cat.

He looks at me with a warm smile. It’s been very long since I visited this place. I was so busy with completing my residency that I simply couldn’t make time. And the few times that I did end up visiting, we would always have a fight about this house. This time, I decided to send an email instead to see if he would have an easier time communicating his feelings. But I didn’t get a reply.

Living in this house was antithetical to dad’s upbringing. He grew up with a silver spoon. He was the fashion director for some of the biggest fashion brands; quite often traveling to Paris while I would stay alone in the house. I was always pretty self sufficient which allowed him to pursue his passion without worry.

“So, what do you think about the email I sent you last week?” I ask, wiping the centre table with a tissue.

“I see you’re still a neatnik…. So, I won’t be a good roommate.” He says, taking a sip of his chamomile tea.

“That’s just trivial. Why do you want to stay here? Alone? In this weird neighbourhood in the middle of nowhere? I ask frustrated.

Suddenly, the doorbell rings. In comes Gary. A good friend of dad. He asks dad to follow him before giving me a smile and a nod. Odd.

I step up near the window, eavesdropping on the conversation the two elderly gentlemen were having outside the house.

“The hapless little guy. Died two days after getting food poisoning on that cursed ski trip.” Gary tells dad.

“And he’s only three?” Dad asks nonchalantly, taking me aback.

“Yes.” Gary replies. “He reminds me a bit of your son.”

“Well then. I’ll try my best.” Dad replies. The front door opens and dad walks back in with Gary as I try to pretend like I’m dusting the window curtains. “These curtains are full of dust and mites dad” I say faking a cough.

****************

The night is unsettling. For some reason, the strange conversation between my father and Gary irked me; as if there was something more to the story. I walk down the hallway for a glass of water but my eye settles on a Bijou.

Upon closer inspection, it has a symbol of some kind of creature. But the trinket is too rusty to make out the details.

A loud thump from the basement draws my attention. I put the delicate trinket in my pocket and make my way near the basement door.

“It’s just Louis.” Dad says, sending me a wave of panic as I recollect myself. “All his food, toys and a cozy bed are down in that basement. A separate floor all to himself, with a paltry of catnip”

I do a double take at the door and back to dad. “You never allowed me to go there. You said there’s a mold problem.”

“I did? Anyway, you should go to bed. Tomorrow we can visit the Angel grounds near your old school.” He says. I notice that he changed the subject. But I’m too tired to argue so I retreat back to my room.

*********

Dad and I go to Angel grounds to relive the old times. He picks up a dandelion on the ground and an old crumpled photograph from his pocket and shows them next to each other. The photo was of me in a blue jacket holding the dandelion with the biggest smile on my face.

“Back when you were a happy kid.” My dad says, blowing the dandelion and handing me the photograph. I look at my child self and feel warmth and gratitude in my heart. I had a good childhood, even though I don’t revisit the past enough.

An old woman walks up to us, glancing at my dad and then back at me.

“Mr. Goddard?” She calls out to my dad.

“Yes.” He says, looking at her, throwing the stem of the dandelion back on the ground.

“We had met at Lophill Cemetery a while back when my husband passed.” She says.

“Oh yes. Mrs. Patterson?” He asks and she nods her head happily.

“Good to see your son. Happy that he’s here with us today. Anyway, here’s my number if you need anything from my son. He’s a cop.” She says proudly.

My dad thanks her, handing her a trinket as she walks away and I stand there dumbfounded unable to comprehend how all the interactions in this place have been surreal and off. “Why did she mention her husband is a cop? Is she trying to win you over?”

“I don’t know son. But let’s get back to home.” He says, dismissing my curiosity.

The drive back home is unusually silent, with faint murmur of the car engine and the windshield wipers every few seconds swaying away at droplets of rain. Dad faintly hums a tune that I can’t recognize, but it puts me at ease. We reach the beaten down house. I look at dad, in an attempt to bring up the conversation that he has been avoiding this entire time. But he gets out of the car without a glance at me. So I drop it.

************

I’m thirsty again. It’s 3AM. I take the weighted blankets off of me and make my way down the hallway, walking downstairs. Louis is happily licking his front paws. He’s sitting curled up on the large window pane.

THUMP!!

I hear a loud noise that is clearly from the basement. I need to see. My childlike curiosity takes over me, as I twist the basement door handle and take a deep breath.

I slowly walk down the stairs, careful to not make a sound. I turn on the light switch.

It’s an old room with dust accumulated on every piece of furniture. This can’t be good for Louis. My eyes land on a single cot that is squished to the wall. There’s bunched up cloth on top of the cot, probably leftover from dad’s fashion projects.

I make my way close to the cot and notice a tiny altar on the table next to it. I kneel down trying to get a better look at the figurine. It looks similar to the figure on a trinket; similar to the trinket that dad handed to the lady at the park.

“A deity?” I question loudly. My eyes fall on the pile of clothes to my left with what looks like hair sticking out. I scramble through the clothes out of curiosity and immediately jump back and yell as I run upstairs.

Dad walks in and notices my panicked state and the open basement door behind me.

“What did you see?” He asks, stone-faced.

“Th….the skeleton…with its hair sticking out. It looked so real. I’m sorry.” I say, feeling bad that I woke my dad up after scaring myself from looking at a skeleton.

“It’s real.” He says. I look up at him, my heart beats faster in my chest as if it’s going to explode. “That is how I saved you.” He continues.

I look at him dumbfounded.

The next thirty minutes were spent with dad explaining the details of my life that I don’t remember. Apparently when I was two, I was dead. Dad met a mysterious man in the hospital who told him about an offering that bring back life. But to bring life back, you also need to sacrifice a life. Dad at first thought of sacrificing his own, when the man suggested something that changed everything in dad’s life.

“He told me about a man who recently got released from prison. He was in Jail for five years after murdering a family of five and their pet dog. His influence and money got him out of jail. I was told to exchange his life for yours.” Dad says calmly as he smokes a joint.

“Please tell me this is a lie.” I say, looking at him with worried eyes.

“Son, some lives are worth saving. You, my accomplished doctor, were worth saving.” He says, looking at me, with the same pride that he always shows.

“So you’re playing God? Who are you to decide whose life is worth and whose life isn’t?” I ask him. “I was taught to save all lives, including criminals.” I retaliate, feeling unsure if I even knew the man who raised me my entire life.

Suddenly there’s knock at the door. Dad gets up and opens the door and in walks a polished looking man with a kid in his arm. “His body is deteriorating” The man says.

“Everything can be restored once we start the process.” Dad reassures him.

“Dad? What is this?” I ask. I get up from the couch to take a closer look at the kid who is lifeless and pale. He’s dead.

“There’s a man who was involved in trafficking. Our men caught him. We’ll exchange his soul for your son’s.” Dad tells him and reassuringly puts a hand on the man’s shoulder.

I pull dad to the side. “You need to stop or I’ll report you.” I tell him.

“Everyone in Lophill knows about this Blake. You can’t stop it. And I can’t stop. You can’t go back after you make promises to the deity.” He says.

I walk out of the house and get in my car ready to leave. I start the engine and notice several men carrying a large man that is tied up with a bag on his face.

I start driving back to my city quickly as the scenes from earlier slowly start to fade away. As I get closer and closer, I forget more and more. I stop my car in front of my apartment complex.

Damn it. I couldn’t convince dad to leave that place this time either. Why am I driving at early morning though? I get out of car and out of my pocket a trinket falls.

“Looks like some creature.” I say out loud inspecting it as I walk inside my house. I keep the trinket in a bowl filled with other similar trinkets that I keep finding when I come back from my father’s house.