Return To Sender: A Short Story by Luke Gagnon

Sunday, April 19, 2009

Return To Sender: A Short Story by Luke Gagnon

Everyday throughout the week the mail would come at exactly 12:00pm. I would be minding my own business deep within my very own house when I would hear the engine sound of that older style car. Usually I would hear the sound and think nothing of it, but lately I had been recieving mail that was not mine to recieve. I thought I would catch the mailman in the act on this spring filled April the 26th, and ask the man why he keeps sending me this mail.

Alone in my house once again, I heard the sound of the older style car crashing down my very street. "This time, he isn't getting away", I thought. I made a dash for the mailbox as he pulled up to my house. His car coming straight for me I stick out my hand and yell "Wait!". The Mailman's car came to a screeching hault. "Excuse me sir", I said, "But why do you keep sending me mail for a Angela G Tyson?", "Just doing my job!", he responded, with a tired look on his face. "Now get out of my way so I can go home!" He demanded. I stepped back and let him pass. "I will get to the bottom of this!" I yelled. There I was, standing next to my mailbox awaiting the fate that only this mailbox could give me. I reach my arm inside to find what mystery I will encounter today. "A note..." I said in a faint voice. "For a Ms. Angela G Tyson", I added. "That's it!" I said, "No longer will this happen to me, I'm going to find out who this Angela G Tyson is and that is THAT!".

Quickly I ran to my house as if I had no time to spare. The first bedroom on the right was mine, and I intended to make it there. As I ran through my bedroom door, I stumbled over my television cable wire sending me soaring into my clothing dresser. Head first I encounter the dresser, and fall to the ground. One by one all of Angela G Tyson's mail fell faintly on my head. There must have been 20 or 30 of them. It was all the mail I had collected for her. I rubbed my head to ease the pain, but the pain was internal for me now, as if each one of these peices of mail were mocking me, TAUNTING ME! I knew then what I had to do. I got up off the ground and headed to my desktop computer. "The Mailman doesn't want to play ball, eh? Well I can find out who she is with or without him", I said with a devilish look on my face. Hours went by as I tried to research Angela, but it wasn't getting me anywhere. I found a site that may be able to solve all of my problems. All I would have to do is send the information I have gathered about Angela and they would send me a complete life history of this girl. I figured it was a start, and maybe my best shot at finding her. I thought to myself "I KNOW! I'll just grab all of her mail, make a run to the mailbox and use the Return to Sender feature by lifting up the red flag on the side". I did just that and noticed it was getting late. I decieded my fate was out of my hands now and in the hands of the mailman and his company. On that note, I retired to my bed.

On this night I had a dream that I would never forget. Throughout the night I would wake up randomly with sweat coming down my face for no reason at all. I remember it as clear as a crystal. In my dream I had woken up with my face pointed directly at the alarm clock. The numbers 4:26am registered in my head as I heard something at the door. I turned very slowly in the darkness of my room to investigate the noise. Lieing in bed I stared at the door. The door was open ever so slightly and I remember to this day what I saw. The silohette of a person with long hair staring me down. I could see the eye that was gazing upon me. That was all I could see. Although I couldn't see my skin I knew it was as pale as the white walls that surrounded my bedroom. Within an instant the shadowy figure was gone. I sprung from my bed frightened. As my fear rose my anger grew stronger. "If someone is in my house, he will not see the night sky in one peice!" I muttered. I opened my bedroom door and made way for the kitchen. The house was pitch black, and that only made my fear and anger grow even stronger. "IF YOU'RE IN MY HOUSE, BE WARNED....I WILL DO EVERYTHING IN MY POWER TO RID YOU FROM IT" I yelled with an overwhelming anger raging throughout my body. Nothing.... No responce, no sound, nothing. Only the darkness that night has given me. I find the light switch and search my house for hours. Nothing! No sign of this myterious being. I figured my words scared him off, and I headed back to bed.

The warmth of the morning sun woke me from my slumber, and at that momment I remembered the night I had. I turn to my bedroom door and make way for the kitchen. My roommate was in the kitchen making his morning breakfast. "Morning, Daniel!" I said. "Good day sir, how are you doing today?" he responded. "Not good actually, I had this very odd dream. I dreamt someone had broken into our house and was staring at me through my door" I said. "Do you think it means something" he said. "What do you mean?" I responded. "Sometimes dreams are warnings, or messages that fate is trying to send you", he stated. "No I think I have just been overly stressed lately" I responded. As I responded to Daniel I looked over and the screen door of the kitchen, it had been unlocked. Just then I remembered Daniel has long red hair. Not thinking much of it I decided to head to work. All day at work that dream taunted me. It was all I could think of.

Weeks had gone by since that dream and the day I had sent back all of angela's mail to it's sender. I would get dreams that were simular to the first but not the exact same. One night I had dreamt someone was walking on my roof and I investigated the person but noone was there. Night after night these dreams would haunt me. I decided I would call in sick for the next day and sleep in. I had not been getting the sleep that I had needed and now I would. I woke up the next day not to the morning sun but to the sound of an older style car coming down my street. It was the Mailman! Finally my questions would be answered. Finally I would know the truth. I got dressed and ran to the mailbox where the mailman had just pulled his car away from. I tried to open the mailbox ever so slowly but the box was full of envolpes. Flowing out of the mailbox one by one the mail hit the ground. I tried to catch as many as I could before they hit the ground. Ravaging through the mail I noticed they were all for Angela G Tyson. "Why!? why do you leave this burden upon me, what have I done to deserve this!?" I yelled. As I finished the sentence, I notice one peice of mail wasn't for Angela but had been for me. It was the human history letter I was waiting for. I couldn't wait to get the burden off my back so I opend the mail right there in the street, and this is what it said: Dear Mr. Gagnon, we have recovered the history on a Angela G Tyson and to answer your question as to who she was...She lived in your house before you and the mail you are recieving is mail that was intended for her when she lived there. As to where she lives now, that's the thing..She doesn't. Angela was murdered in 1898 by her step father. He would kill the neighbors and store their bodies in the attic, but one day Angela caught him in the act and he murdered her so she woudn't tell. She never had the chance to change her living address and you have been receiving her mail.

I took a momment to reflect on this new information, and headed for the house. I headed for my bedroom so I could rest on my bed. I fell on my bed with my head facing the ceiling. I started to think. "What if those dreams weren't actually dreams at all, what if....." before I could finish the sentence I heard a noise at my door and I angled my head toward it. The door was open ever so slightly and there standing right before me with one eye staring me down, was...ANGELA G TYSON!

THE END.

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Enjoy The Prologue From My Upcoming Book.. "Strolok"............by R.Goldberg

"WHAT WOULD YOU DO IF YOUR RACE WAS TARGETED FOR EXTINCTION?"

The Sun is a powerful force in our Universe. It brings us light, warmth and a promise of a galaxy beyond the stars. Often we associate massive flashes of light with the reflection of our Sun's light bouncing off of another surface.

This is not always the case though, especially if you believe that we are truly not alone in the Universe. When we witness things that we can't readily explain we sometimes turn our heads and shrug our shoulders in a display of apathy.

A display such as this occurred on Friday January 29, 1982 at the Crater Lake National Park just outside of Chemult, Oregon. The snow had been falling steadily for a period of four days. The winds had been whisking about at 40 miles per hour.
Then there was one of those unnatural flashes of light. This created an eerie silence as a lanky boy, just nine years old, seemed to appear from out of that flash. If he had walked to this point there would have been a distinct trail in the newly fallen snow.
There was no trail and as a matter of fact the only tracks in the snow were the ones that outlined his feet where he was standing.

He began to trudge through the snow wearing what could only be described as dark brown long johns. He seemed dazed yet, at the same time, very clear about the direction that he was travelling. This boy with no identity or name seemed to be on a mission that would take him to places he had never been before.
His main goal was to reach Chemult, Oregon and he had no intention of stopping until he accomplished this. As strange as it seems the extreme cold seemed to have little or no effect on him at all.

Why Chemult? What was so special about this town located at an elevation of 4,758 feet above sea level in a frozen winter wilderness in Oregon?

The town of Chemult was first opened to the local traffic in 1926 and here in 1982, with its population of only 241, offered little in the way of comfort for a nine year old boy who was all alone. This journey, although prompted by something deep inside of him, did not provide a feeling of comfort and yet he had hoped that he would at least experience a feeling of accomplishment once he reached the town.

The wind was getting stronger and he noticed a small piece of yellow paper tattered and torn from whipping about in the snow. He only stopped long enough to
pick up this paper..........it read:

.....With the winter season here there was a lot of fun to have. Travelling miles of open trails on snow mobiles skiing or simply hiking, but there are dangers of doing so. Please remember safety first. Do not travel alone and be sure someone knows where you are and where you are going before travelling our trails, and please read the safety rules and codes of ethics before hiking the trails...

Nightfall was near and he had already walked 38 of the 40 miles needed to reach Chemult. He was just off of Route 97 when he spotted an old barn just about 200 feet NE of his present location. Making his way to the barn he went in and found it to be totally deserted, it was a perfect place to rest for the night.

Morning had arrived and once awake the boy started to look around the barn in the daylight light to see if there was anything that was lying in the barn that he could use to assist him on his trek.

Over in the far corner of the barn he found an old metal locked box that had long been forgotten. It was all rusted out and the key was nowhere to be found. After several failed attempts to open the box the young boy closed his eyes, sat back on his tired limbs and placed the palm of his right hand on top of the box. All of a sudden a dull red glow appeared from his right palm and the box lid flew open. Strangely enough once the red glow disappeared all that remained was a faint thin black outline where the outside of the red mark had appeared on his palm. Inside of the box he found several items all of which were unfamiliar to him and it was obvious that they had been there
for a very long time.

The contents included a tattered passport with the picture missing, a pocket knife, a compass, an antique pocket watch with a broken crystal, a time-worn souvenir porcelain coffee mug with the words; "Atlanta, Georgia, The Peach State, A Perfect Place to Live", on it and a frayed map of the Metro Atlanta Area It was difficult to make out the name on the passport but with a couple of light brushes with his fingers he saw the name Jason Tredmore. This is now who this boy would become.

Sci-Fi Blast

Sunday, April 19, 2009