In search of a time capsule

Rain thundered against the thin piece of plastic that separated Kathy from the nocturnal elements. Tempestuous waves raged against the inner walls of her consciousness, drowning her thoughts into the maelstrom of memories spent with her son. 28 days ago, Henry had set out to find the town’s fabled time capsule of which he was certain to contain antiquarian relics that would cast an aged light onto his investigation of the town's history.  Unfortunately, the capsule was buried in the depths of myth rather than dirt and all Henry ever found was the bottom of St. George’s ravine.

Nightfall was near on the horizon. The dissipating sunlight communed with the raindrops gathering on the tent’s roof, casting down shadows that masqueraded themselves with the tears streaming down Kathy’s sullen eyes. Her right hand was losing grip on the cherished photos of Henry while the left tightened its hold over the bottomless bottle of burgundy wine. Kathy underwent meticulous mental evaluations after allowing a bit of sanity to run off with the boy. She was permitted to live independently if weekly visits to the local psychiatrist were honoured. As the rain gently trickled down the sides of the tent, Kathy could feel the malignant velvet wine flow through her, eroding the weights of her burdens.

A bitter gust of wind offered an excuse to whimper and cry, which was slightly more comforting than doing it internally. The anti-psychotics were not to be taken with alcohol, but it’s hardly irrational to favor one drug over the other. The dusk of the night now wholly encapsulated Kathy leaving only the warm light bleeding out from henry’s room to keep her from the terrifying totality of pure darkness.  The lights in his room were never to be turned off, and everything in his room was kept in pristine orderliness for when the boy found his way home.

Kathy’s unconscious sailed heavy currents and intermittently slipped into that nocturnal realm of dreams against the face of turbulent winds. The charcoal clouds were raging with cataclysmic intent. The precariously constructed ship was ripped to shreds and Kathy fell through the now empty black sea onto the seat of consciousness at the sound of her tent door being zipped open. Instantly petrified and alert, her gaze sharply focused on the hazy shadow hovering two feet in front of her. Familiarity dissolved the terror in her mind when the words "mom, it's me" drifted through the hollow tent. A myriad of thoughts flooded the streams of her mind, but Kathy crawled through them and towards the entrance. A paralyzing shock prickled down from her skull to fingertips when the boy’s face became visible under the light that she had maintained all these years. A gentle smile found its way on henry's face.

Kathy compassionately pressed his soft brown hair against her chest, as if to say sorry. Her lips were motionless, and her heart was wrenched by love and pain. Still, beyond the reach of words, she started to laugh panicked cries of joy. The warm touch of his innocent hands in her own was bliss in the purest form. "mama, why are your hands so cold.” She tried to give way to a few small utterances but choked on tears. "mom, I found it, I found the capsule!". Watery eyes rested on the boy's shoulder while he continued to speak into her ear.

"The time capsule, mom, it’s at the end of the river".

"How?" was all Kathy could tiredly force out of her stupor.

"I’ll show ya, I followed the river back up here, remember that’s how you told me to always find my way back home?”

This was not a memory familiar to the boy’s mother, but she was far too drained to spend the scarce remnants of her energy on the thought. The kind warmth gradually left their embrace and as henry stepped out of the tent, she dazedly reached forward. "come, mama, ill show you". She followed the voice.

Stumbling in the dark, Kathy felt the earth grasping at her crumbling knees, pulling them down to the dirt with tremendous force. There was a perpetual pounding in her head as the remaining bit of sanity smashed its mallet against her cranium begging to be freed. Following the cadence of his voice, a glimpse of awareness had entered Kathy’s dilapidated mind. She was walking through the domain of the unknown during its ruling hours. The distant sound of heavy torrents faded into her perception and blended with the eternal rainfall. Heavy winds urged her onwards while also stripping the trees of their amber leaves which descended on Kathy as chthonic ashes.  As she climbed the precipitous mount, the mystery of how long it had been since henry grew silent started to gain weight in her consciousness. “Down here” the quiet words seemed to be a direct response to the very thought. Trotting onwards, Kathy found herself under the dim moonlight of a half-crescent and over the crevice of a lightless ravine. She jumped.

The collision with the black river suppressed unexpressed screams and the white laced blouse became suffocating as Kathy plunged deeper into the bitterly frigid rapids. The heavy pressure pressed against her lungs and a series of fearful paroxysms forced her to breathe during short intermittent moments above the water.  Furious white jet streams of water crashed against the worn rocks around her and contrasted starkly with the night sky.  Indescribably weak and powerless, Kathy lost the will to persevere and submitted her body to the fate of the flowing currents as she drifted downstream under the ethereal radiance of the half-crescent. The rain caused ephemeral ripples upon entering the surface of the river. The water now flowed gracefully through her slender fingers. Her eyelids slipped and the midnight tides carried over into her dreams where she felt the embrace of peace and felt no need to remember her corporal exhaustion.

 When Kathy woke, incinerating pains shot through her legs from the multitude of cuts decorating her feet. She screamed, this time with no trouble. The sound of the rapids still fogged her perception, but she was somewhat aware of the glistening sandy shore. Kathy assumed this to be the end of the river because there stood henry just beyond the reach of moonlight. Tidal waves of sympathy rushed over her as she realized how cold and scared henry was, quickly neglecting her own pain. Henry stepped out from under the shade and ran towards his mother. She embraced him until he started to tug at her arm. "Come, mom, the capsules, they’re right over there.” Kathy smiled and humored her son; it was good to allow their imagination to flourish. “Is that it by the rocks?". Henry nodded and excitedly pulled his mother forward. Only a moment later, Kathy laid eyes on an enormous glass cylinder, filled with newspapers, books, and jewelry. Dumbfounded, she picked up the newspaper on top, 1884, the headline read "Joseph Browns of psych ward 3 found dead in the ravine". She continued to read "caretakers say he broke out of the asylum at twilight in a panic, chasing after his son. Nurse lancy tells us that joseph must have been under the influence of a heavy psychotic delusion because Mr. Browns had no known immediate family...”. the newspaper fell from Katy’s frozen fingers onto dozens of similar headlines.  Her attention drifted to the growing shadow behind her. The moon was concealed by leaden clouds, and the black sand now resembled the dirt of hades. Something warm and flesh like rubbed against Kathy’s torn open ankle and an ear-piercing scream threatened to burst her vocal cords. "mom, do you like the capsule?" Kathy plummeted to the ground and turned her head in the direction of her son. Henry’s arms began to branch outwards at unnatural speeds. His skin was folding in on itself, the eyes narrowed with an infernal fire set ablaze, its mouth grimaced, bones burst out from the spine, and henry now snarled at his mother with a toothy smile on all fours. Three hooked claws gripped the face of Kathy while needles penetrated her skin. Quickly, the deed was over, and henry took the form of his mother, another animal to prey with. Another thread of wool to knit together the sublime nightmares that will continue to fill the bottomless pits of the time capsule.