The Promise - 1. Stranger Things

The glass-topped coffee table held a mound of white powder and a razor blade to cut lines. Over on the antique sideboard were over fifty bottles of liquor, of different types and brands. Another table to the right offered clear plastic cups, paper plates, and an obligatory bowl each, of potato chips and popcorn. On the floor were two huge coolers filled with ice; one held beer and the other mixers. A sweet, cloying, smoky cloud hung over the living room.

Music thumped from the four speakers, and guests yelled at each other to be heard over the lead singer of We the People.

"There's a guy at the door looking for you." A guest leaned on the sofa, and tapped the party's host on the shoulder.

The host turned and peered into the face of the guest who he didn’t recognize. "Is there? Thanks." He pulled himself to his feet, lurching slightly as he stepped over the laps and feet of guests who sat beside him on the sofa. "Excuse please. Oh, sorry, Martha!"

He walked down the hall, his left hand held out to steady his progress. He was relishing the quiet as he moved farther from the overcrowded living room.

"Why do I have these parties if I like quiet?" he wondered, and not for the first time. He had noticed people only seemed to be around when the weed, coke and booze were plentiful.

There was movement in the vestibule; someone really was at the door.

"Hi, I'm F—"

"Hello, Finn." The man turned towards the host. He wasn't smiling. "Long time, no see."

Finn was confused. "Um, do we know each other? If we do, I'm sorry, I don't recall."

Wracking his brain, Finn stared at the slim man in a baseball cap. The face was rather flat, but oddly attractive. "I have no idea who this guy is," he thought, but yet, there was something.

The new guy was talking, "… so I think you should ask everyone to go home, Finn."

"What? Look, you're welcome to stay and party but this thing just got rolling. And well I have my eye on a pretty boy who is mine for the rest of the night."

The new arrival glared at Finn, who blinked and backed up. "You made a promise. Now I am here to collect on that obligation. Tell your guests there is an issue."

The stranger stepped forward, forcing Finn against the door. He moved forward until Finn could feel the man's sharp hip bones pressed against his own. The newcomer smelled mildly of freshly caught fish; the breath on Finn's neck was cool as the man whispered, "Now, tell them to go home."

Finn nodded. Part of him, deep down, knew the newcomer was not a stranger. There was something, an old memory. There was an obligation to fulfill—a promise to be kept.

"Yes, of course. I'll tell them now." Finn indicated the door to his tiny den, which doubled as his office. "Please go in and have a seat. I'll get everyone to leave so we can talk."

His uninvited guest opened the door and went it, but not before giving Finn a last, pointed glance.

Finn watched the door close. "Shit!"

He was sober now and wished he wasn't. Finn walked back to the loud living room and turned off the music. This action resulted in a lot of swearing and complaint.

"I'm sorry. Something important—personal—has come up. I need to attend to it. I'm really sorry but I have to ask you all please, to go home."

There was a lot of grumbling and some anger as people's evenings were spoiled. Other guests offered thanks and asked:" Anything we can do?"

"Thank you, but no. I'll sort it all out and we'll do this again very soon."

Trevor, the boy Finn had planned on spending some hot and heavy time with hung back, as Finn herded out his high and drunk guests. Once the door closed he approached Finn.

"Hey … I can, like wait." Trevor pushed a finger through a belt loop near Finn's left hip. His ruby lips were moist and he pressed himself against Finn suggestively. "I don't want to leave you, Finn."

Finn snaked his arms around the boy and pulled him even closer. His whispered reply was husky. "I don't want you to go, baby. Dammit, but I have to take care of this. I don't know how long I'll be … so … it's best you go."

Trevor clung to Finn and moved his head closer, begging silently for a kiss. Finn answered and gave the boy his mouth. They kissed passionately, for several minutes.

"He needs to go, Finn. Now!" The stranger stood in the living room doorway.

Finn tore his lips away. "God damn it. I am coming!"

Trevor, who had been silent, watched as the strange looking man turned and walked back to the den.

Finn sighed deeply. "I'm sorry, Trev. You better go. Here …" He rummaged in his front right pocket and pulled out some cash. "Call an Uber or a cab okay? I'm sorry about this. Sorry I can't drive you home."

Trevor accepted the cash. "S'okay, Finny. Look, will you be okay? I don't like that guy."

"I'll be fine. I know him. Now scram and we'll get together soon, okay?" Finn walked the boy to the front door. He kissed the soft lips once more before pulling the door open and gently pushing Trevor through it.

"Yeah, see you," the younger man said.

Finn smiled once more. "You better believe it. Night."

"Night."

After watching Trevor walk out the front gate, Finn closed and locked the front entrance. He pulled his shoulders back, walked to the den and pushed open the door.

His guest was seated on the brown leather sofa, looking at a copy of Psychology Today. He replaced the magazine on the coffee table when Finn entered the room. The paper stuck slightly to the man's long fingers.

Finn closed the door and stood gazing at his guest. "Look, a promise, I remember a promise. I was eight years old. I remember it, but I do not remember you."

"You have aged. Well so have I, Finn." The man sat back. "And I appeared less human as a youngster."

Finn nodded. "Yeah, I remember …"

_____

Summer vacation was almost over and Finn Green's father was due back from the wars any day. Finn was eight and knew what a soldier was and that a war meant fighting, but he didn't understand about the war his father was involved in.

He'd asked his teachers if there was a war, but they had told him no. So, he then asked his mother one morning as they sat outside on the grand patio, paved with dark gray slabs of stone. Breakfasting, his mother called it.

"Sweetheart, when I say the war, I don’t mean war as in countries fighting. People can fight their own wars. Inside their own heads."

"Can they, Mother? Do they do it on purpose? Why would you do that? "Finn scraped the remainder of his corn flakes out of the bowl and dropped the spoon. It clanked in a very satisfactory manner. "Does it mean Daddy doesn’t have a gun? Will he want to play baseball with me?"

"I'm sure he will want to, Finn. But he will need some time to get used to us again, darling. After all, he's been away for two years." Cynthia Green sipped her Earl Grey tea, and replaced the white cup in the delicate saucer. "Now, I have to go into town this morning for a meeting of the Church Auxiliary. I need you to stay here and be good for Miss Hanson. Is that clear, Finn?"

Finn picked up a fresh homemade doughnut and nibbled the sweet crispy outer crust. "Yes, Mother. I will obey Miss Hanson. When is Daddy coming home, Mommy?"

"In a few days. Mrs. Charleston is getting a room ready for him." Mrs. Green rose and bent to kiss Finn. "Be good!"

The boy kissed her proffered cheek with sugary lips. "I will, Mommy."

"Very good." She smiled, and didn't wipe away the crumbs from her cheek until she'd taken at least two steps.

Finn watched his mother leave, and then he got up and carried the remainder of his doughnut to the goldfish pond. It was a round cement pond surrounded by a little wall. After brushing off the area where he intended to sit, Finn broke of tiny pieces of the sweet dough and watched the bright carp rise to eat the crumbs he offered.

Once the fish were fed, he dangled his fingers in the water and giggled as the fish came up to vacuum them. He looked up at the bright blue sky.

"What should I do today?" Finn wiped his wet fingers across his thigh to dry them. He decided to head up to his bedroom. He ran indoors, narrowly avoiding Mrs. Charleston as she walked down the curving staircase.

"Land's boy! Slow down!"

Finn did has he was told, for a moment. "Yes, ma'am." He climbed the remaining stairs slowly. At the top he wandered to the end of the hall where his parents' bedroom was; but his daddy would be staying in the small room next to it when he came back.

Mrs. Charleston and his mommy had moved Daddy's things in there. Finn looked at the cozy room and wandered over to look at the jewelry case. He liked to look at his daddy's cufflinks and rings. He slipped on the graduation ring his father had earned by finishing university.

Finn liked the oval blue centre stone. He stood staring at it when he heard his nanny, Miss Hanson, calling.

"Finn! Finn! Where are you?"

Not yet ready to part with the ring, Finn slipped it into his pocket. "I'll put it back in a few minutes."

Mandy Hanson stood in the doorway. "Finn! Why are you in here? Get outside and play, you'll just be in the way here."

Finn frowned. They always said stuff like that; it made him feel like a baby. "I can help."

"No. Now Mrs. Charleston and I need to finish this room before your daddy arrives home. Go out and play by the swings and be careful!"

"Yes, ma'am." Finn walked for a moment and then ran down the hall.

"Do not run!"

He was halfway down the stairs when he replied, "Yes, ma'am!"

"I'll go out the back to the well," he decided silently. Telling the housekeeper and nanny this was not a good idea. They would have stopped him from going saying it was dangerous or some other girly thing.

The well was no longer used and sat in a copse of large oak trees. To Finn it was a secret and magical place. The canopy was large and thick, and grass no longer grew here. It was quiet but for the leaves moving in the breeze. Shady and cool, Finn liked how slips of sunlight made it through the thick mass of leaves and branches.

The well itself was capped with a large a wire grate.

"Too bad I'm not more skinny. Then I could fit down there."

So far, in his animated and expressive imagination, the well had been a cave, a home for a lost dragon, and this morning, a place where riches beyond measure lay hidden.

The little boy pulled the University Ring from his pocket. "Ah ha! So this came from the secret treasure cave? Excellent! We must go there and find out what more is hidden. Jackson, bring the car around!"

As he played Finn leaned over the well, his smooth-soled leather shoes slipped, the ring bobbled in his fingers; he reached for it and missed. His daddy's special and most favourite ring fell into the water below. The subsequent plop was not at all satisfying today. "Oh … no."

Finn sat on the ground next to the well and cried hot tears. "I am going to be in so much trouble. I wish I didn't take that stupid ring! I wonder if a frog on a string could help me?"

He sat there and wiped his eyes. It was midday and warm, and after his tears, Finn Green fell asleep with his forehead on his knees.

Something poked his arm once, and then again, and several more times before he awoke. "What?"

"I heard you crying."

Finn looked at the … little boy? "Who are you?"

"I can help you. I can go down and get your treasure."

The boy was odd looking. A bit pasty and his features were flattened, making his face seem rounder and smooth. Big, globe-shaped golden eyes looked back at him, and Finn noticed the boy, if that's what he was, smelled a bit like freshly caught fish. He wore only a tunic, not proper clothes.

"I don't have a string to pull you out, and how can you fit through the wire?"

"I can climb. See." The boy held out hands with long slim fingers. "I can climb up. I'll go get it for you."

No sooner had he said it than the boy pulled off his tunic, slipped through the wire and climbed down the well. Finn, now on his feet, leaned over to watch.

Once at the bottom, his new friend slipped into the water and disappeared for several long minutes.

When he popped up again, Finn realized he'd been holding his breath. "Did you find it?"

"Yes, I'm coming back up." He easily climbed the inner bricks of the well.

Finn helped the boy back through the wire. The tiny fellow was dripping wet, as he handed the ring over.

"Oh, thank you so much. I need to give you a present. Thank you."

The small boy pulled his tunic back on. "You can't tell anyone about me, because my parents will be angry."

"Okay, but what can I do to say thank you properly?"

The little thing smiled. "Just a promise."

"Promise? Promise for what?"

"Just a promise, if I need help one day, you'll help me, like I did you."

Finn nodded and answered simply, "Yes, of course, I promise."

_____

The creature on the sofa smiled. "Do you remember fully now?"

"Yes, I do. Right, well whatever, so what do you want? I know to keep a promise, but how; what do you want?"

"It is a long story. I have travelled a long way. May I have food and drink?"

"Jesus, fine. Let's go to the kitchen."

Finn served his guest some fresh fruit as he refused anything cooked and didn't want canned fish.

"So what do you want from me? Oh, look, do you have a name? You know mine, but I am at a loss here." Finn asked as he watched the creature drink some Perrier and eat all the fresh fruit he had.

"Oh, this water is bubbly!" The creature-man grinned. "Name? Nothing you humans can pronounce easily. It is D'Saimquatimaquatee.

Finn stared for a moment, and then smiled. "May I call you Sam for short?"

His mouth full of dripping peaches, the newly named Sam nodded. He swallowed and said, "Do you have worms?"

"Worms? Do you really eat worms?"

"Yes, they are very tasty."

Finn shook his head. "Sorry, no worms right now. I can likely buy some for you, later. If you want them."

"I'd appreciate it."

"Look, it's getting late. Are you going to tell me what it is you want, or should we sleep and talk tomorrow?"

Sam eyed Finn closely. "Your mother is selling the house and land. You must know what it means, Finn. To us … all of us."

"Why would it mean anything to you?" Finn sat on a kitchen stool next to Sam.

"You cannot let her. You promised to help me and we have done our part, like always."

Finn looked in earnest at his guest. "Part? I don't understand what you're talking about."

"Come on, your father didn't tell you? You're saying you don't know?"

Frustrated, Finn slapped the breakfast-bar top. "Know what? I have no clue what you are talking about! Maybe you should just tell me. And as to my father, he killed himself after being home from the wars … the mental institution, more like it! The bastard killed himself when I was nine. So he told me dick!"

"I see, it makes sense now."

"Does it? Well it doesn’t to me, Sam. Who are you? What are you, because you're not human, right?"

Sam's face softened. "No, I'm not human. My people never left sub-terra. We are closer to amphibians than apes."

"Christ. I need a bloody drink."

"Do you want to rest, Finn? We can talk in the morning."

"Not yet. I wouldn't be able to sleep anyway." Finn slipped off his stool and walked to the fridge. "You want something? Do you drink?"

"No, well not alcohol. Water, the bubbly one if you have some. Thanks."

Finn chuckled. "Perrier is what that bubbly water is called. Very French!"

A bottle of beer and Perrier in his hand he shoved the fridge door closed with his hip. He placed the water in front of Sam.

Sam opened the bottle, sipped, grinned and said, "Thanks."

"Sure. You're welcome." After sitting once more, Finn spoke in a whisper. "So, tell me then. What is going on?"

"I'll tell you." Sam got down from his stool. "Let's sit somewhere more comfortable. It's not a short story."

"Fine, we can go to the living room." Finn led the way out of the kitchen, with Sam close behind.

They settled on the sofa together. Finn wished for a moment he was sitting with Trevor. With a sigh he sipped his beer and stared at Sam. "So?"

Sam blinked his large, golden eyes. "So how many generations of Greens have lived at Sanctuary?"

"Christ I don't know. At least five, I think."

Sam nodded. "How did they survive? What did they do for work? What did your father do?"

Finn opened his mouth and closed it again.

"Did you ever consider the name?"

"Sanctuary? No, I mean I grew up there, it's a beautiful place. Safe … it's sa—”

"Yes, it's safe."

"Geezus … you?" Finn swallowed a mouthful of beer.

Sam was nodding. "Yes, do you want to know the whole story?"

"Yes. Yes, please."

"Good, because I just love to tell this story."

_____