Now I’m sitting at home in Bubbe’s room. Bubbe talked Mom into waiting until tomorrow to take me to see Doctor Filbert, and I don’t even think Dad’s awake yet. I’ve just told Bubbe what Mr. Mario told me. She shakes her head.
“I knew something was wrong, from the moment you jumped in the hospital,” she says.
“I saw him then, and it was obvious that you had too, but I didn’t say anything. I dismissed it like some village idiot, and now it’s gone this far. He’s taken Adam, and now he wants you.” I hold her hand.
“There are things I could have done differently too Bubbe, but I didn’t,” I say. There are tears coming from her eyes, the first real tears I’ve seen from her in a while.
“If we’d have gotten out of here sooner… I can’t help but think we’d be okay. Maybe not that poor girl Shana, oh no we couldn’t have left her, but if we’d gotten you to safety immediately. I should have known- I did know, but I didn’t say anything, and I’m sorry for that,” she continues.
I can’t let her blame herself for this, not at her age.
“Bubbe, I’m going to do something about this. Mr. Mario, just before he died he said to bring joy and happiness to weaken Slender’s hold. It had to have meant something because Slender killed him right after, like a punishment or to keep him from telling me more, but what does that mean? Do I literally have to go to him joyous and happy?” I ask.
She thinks for a moment, but I don’t think she’s composing a wise answer to my question. I think she’s lingering on the fact that I’m planning to go out there. “Bubbe, I have to. I told you what Mario said. I’ve been marked ever since I escaped his world the first time, and now he’s angry. If I go to him now I may have a chance to retrieve Adam, and if I don’t it will just be worse for both of us.”
“I know that! Don’t you think I know that, child? I don’t want to hear it anymore though. You can’t expect to reason with pain when reasoning won’t help,” she cries. I haven’t heard Bubbe actually yell like that in years. I only hope Mom didn’t hear it, because I bet she hasn’t either. Bubbe bows her head.
“Joy and life… it makes sense because if he feeds on pain and breeds death, he is no friend to life,” she says.
“But what does that mean for me? I can’t go in with a smile on my face, at least not an honest one.” She looks up at me.
“But what makes you feel joy, laughter, and full of life? And what brings those feelings to Adam. What do you have in common?” she asks.
I can’t tell if she’s hinting at the answer, or if she’s thinking aloud, hoping I will find an answer. What brings me joy? I remember painting my nails with Shana. That brought me happiness, but when she disappeared I didn’t have anything. All I had was “…my guitar,” I say aloud.
“Your guitar,” Bubbe repeats.
“His favorite song is the prayer Adon Olam. The upbeat, happy tune to that song always brought a smile to his face. Even when he was sick, or upset, he always loved that song.”
I nod slowly.
“That’s why I always played it. You don’t think…”
“I think it’s the best answer we’ve got so far,” she says.
“But last time I don’t even remember having the axe when he pulled me in, how will a guitar make it through?”
“It might, but at any rate he didn’t take your voice did he?” she asks. I shake my head.
“I think if you play your heart out on your guitar and sing your brother that song- I think that might be the only joy and life that passes through to his shadow world.”
I feel my stomach churn as the memories of the last time I was there come to me. I keep dwelling on the idea that I won’t succeed, and that I won’t even make it there, but now he’s practically- no he’s literally invited me to come in. He’s insisted that I come of my own accord. I bet now I could walk up with a chainsaw and he wouldn’t hurt me till I reach the tree. I doubt it would do me any good though. “When, when do I do it?” I ask.
She looks out her window at the night sky.
“I don’t think he’s going to let you sleep through the night,” she says, brutally honest.
“Alright then,” I say, voice cracking. I hate the idea of going back out there, but not as much as I hate the idea of leaving Adam there to suffer. I hate everything right now, and I especially hate the fact that I can’t even cry it out, because that will only help him. His static presence rings through my ears. He’s probably overheard our entire conversation. He probably hears every thought coursing through my mind right now.
Bubbe stands up and I feel her hand on my shoulder. I look down and see she’s holding something in her other hand, something I haven’t seen until now.
“I found this thrown on your floor,” she says. My eyes widen in shame as I see what’s in her hand. It’s the Star of David necklace she gave me, the one that’s practically ancient treasure. She didn’t even pass it down to Mom and here I am throwing it in the floor.
“I’m sorry, I—” I say, trying to apologize, but I silence myself as she clasps the necklace around my neck and hugs me. I hug her back tightly.
“I’m sorry you have to do this. I feel like it’s my job to stop you, but I know there’s no other way. I wish I could go in your stead, but just promise me something,” she says.
“What?” I ask, crying.
“Don’t make me lose both of my grandchildren,” she orders. I nod.
“Alright good—”
“Don’t say goodbye either, because you’re coming back with Adam in your arms,” she says.
I nod again. Right-O.
“What about Mom?” I ask.
“Didn’t I say you were coming back?” she says. I laugh a bit.
“Go get your guitar.”
I let go and slowly walk to my room, planning out my actions. Surely I’ll at least get to see Adam while I’m in there, and all I should have to do is escape with Adam in my arms. If he wants me so badly, then he’ll probably try to attack me instead of Adam if we run together. Last time I felt that he could only take one of us at a time, and he and I both know that I’m the one he wants. I pick up my guitar and take one long look at it. It’s worn, but the light brown body is still very shiny, despite being completely covered in finger prints and smudges. I’ve only ever had to change the strings once.
I sling the guitar around my back and slowly creep downstairs. I can see Dad is still on his chair, and I see Mom’s legs from around the corner, and a big blanket dangling to the floor. She must have crawled in with him, lights on and everything. I blow them a silent kiss and creep out the door. I shut it as quietly as I can behind me.
I walk down to the end of the driveway and turn around. This might be the last time I see my house. I take in the beige coloring and look up to see my broken window, but with the curtain you can’t see inside my room. I guess that’s how I didn’t know it was broken until now.
I turn around and head straight for the woods. I only stop to go through my routine of stretches at the end of the sidewalk. I’m not planning on running in, but I bet there will be a lot of running involved in getting back out, and now would be the worst time of all to twist an ankle, although my stretches haven’t prevented me from stumbling before. I take my time, and I can feel Slender’s impatience with me. I get my hamstrings, quadriceps, and even my arms in twenty second counts. I wish I hadn’t pick jeans to wear, because they will really limit my flexibility. It’s not too late to go back and change, I think but shake it off. That’s just a way to delay the inevitable.