The Loop

THE LOOP

Maithili Patange

Last night was a disaster for Mr. Trevaylor. He had been sleeping peacefully in his bedroom when suddenly he heard a loud crash outside his window. He did not pay heed to it though, as cats often frequented on the building roof and would specifically decide to have fun at night. However, around 2 a.m his peaceful slumber was once again boken by the sound of sirens. He got out of his bed to peep out of the window and saw that a man, similar to his age, whose face was completely distorted, was being put on a stretcher. There was a lot of blood on the ground right below his window. He might have fallen on the fence, he thought; and this reminded him of the loud crash he’d heard some time back, giving him goosebumps.

So it was actually this man. Could also be suicide or even worse! Who knows? Or was he trying to intrude in my room? Mr. Trevaylor was deeply disturbed by this incident and couldn’t sleep for the rest of the night. He had been thinking of leaving this rustic building and getting a house for himself in a decent neighbourhood for quite some time now. Here, incidents like these, and also robberies, noisy parties of drunk teenagers were ordinary and would enrage him every time; definitely not a good place for a teacher in his thirties to live in. What happened today was a serious reminder for him. He knew what he had to do the next day and went back to sleep.

Mr. Trevaylor was obviously late for his class the next day, but was excited about it. He was a good teacher and students too liked him, all the same, being a high-school history teacher, it was a tough job for him to keep his students interested. So occasionally, he would engage them by telling them about the unsolved mysteries in history. Today was one such day and he knew which story he had to tell.

“So today's mystery story is about a man who disappeared,” he said after the class settled down. Students were already excited and listened intently. “So there lived a man who went by the name Noah. Also, let me tell you that this case was documented based on the claims of a neighbouring couple. They were the only witnesses who saw him last, before he disappeared into thin air.”

“Ooooohhhh,” said a few students. He went on,

“So, according to the neighbours, Noah was a weird man, kept mostly to himself, and was never visited by friends or family. He had been living there for the past eight months and worked at a carpenter's workshop. Everyday he would leave early in the morning and return late in the afternoon. The neighbours also tried to extend a friendly hand but he never responded.

One night, out of nowhere, they heard him shouting, “I did it! Yes! I’ve found a way back!.” The couple was surprised as he never said a word. They tried to look from their window to check if everything was alright, when all of a sudden they heard a loud boom, and the next minute everything felt silent.

A week went by but the man didn't come out of his house even once. The couple decided to check up on him. They knocked on his door, called him, but nothing happened. Peeping inside through his windows didn’t help either. Naturally, the police were called. They broke the door open, but the house was empty. The door and the windows were locked from inside so there was no chance of him going somewhere else. A few days later, due to lack of witnesses and any evidence, the case was closed. Thus, this mystery remained unsolved.”

The class fell silent for a minute or two but started bombarding Mr. Trevaylor with curious questions like always. Students were also discussing this among themselves but Mr. Trevaylor did not join them today. He was thinking about last night’s incident. He desperately needed some money and wanted to move out of his building as soon as possible.

One peculiar thing that he had in his possession was a little box - a family heirloom. It was a small box, a really ancient one but very beautiful and ornamental. He had it with him since the sudden death of his father, who died in a car accident. He was a single child and no one would question him if he ever decided to sell it. So today Mr. Trevaylor had decided to finally sell the box, but was also having second thoughts, since it was a family legacy.

But I'll need a good house if I want to raise a family, he thought and finally made up his mind. Announcing that the students can have the rest of the lecture to discuss the case and that he had some important errand to run, he prepared to leave. As he was leaving a student asked him,

"What was the year of this case Mr. Trevaylor?”

"1965," he said and hurried out of the class.

To avoid second thoughts, Mr. Trevaylor decided to visit the pawn shop right away. While in the cab, he opened his bag and took out the box. He had never really paid close attention to this beautiful thing as it was locked and also because it would remind him of his father.

His father was diagnosed with schizophrenia in his final days, but was very fond of the box and would always keep it with him. When asked what it was or who gave it to him, he would reply, “It’s too soon to tell you” and make an excuse. Nonetheless, now Mr. Trevaylor had no choice but to sell it if he wanted a peaceful life.

He reached the shop but while getting out, the box fell down on the ground giving him a mini heart attack. He picked it up and started dusting it. To his surprise, he found that the box had a hidden sliding compartment below which there was a key. He opened the box with it and saw that there was a tiny number lock-like structure inside. He decided to keep the selling plan on hold and straight away went home to check out this surprising discovery.

After coming back, he opened the box once again. The characters on the lock did not make sense but he tried to move them randomly. After a few tries a little valve came up and it seemed as if it was a lock. Mr. Trevaylor put the key in it and twisted it. The box began to shake all at once and Mr. Trevaylor felt like he was losing his consciousness.

Then, he heard a loud crash-like sound and everything turned black.

Mr. Trevaylor felt a cool breeze on his skin as he was regaining consciousness. When he opened his eyes, to his astonishment, he found himself lying on grass. He stood up, still feeling dizzy, and saw that he was in what seemed like a forest. He looked around and saw the pretty box lying beside him. He picked it up, walked a bit further and found that there was a road, a highway probably. The wooden sign beside the road said Woodhaven.

This didn’t make any sense. How did he come to Woodhaven? How could he have come here when he was in his room just moments ago? He saw a car approaching, a very old kind of car. He waved his hands and made it stop. The man, who was wearing retro clothes, stopped and asked him if he wanted a lift. But Mr. Trevalylor’s face turned colourless as he saw the calendar on the dashboard.

“Which year is this”, he asked

“It’s 1965”, said the man, puzzled. “Who are you?”

“I’m Noah Trevaylor, can you please drop me off in the town?” said Mr. Trevaylor camly, with a blank face.