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It takes Joel nearly three hours to decide what to wear.
He leaves his apartment six times during those three hours, takes a quick walk around the block each time to calm himself down, then returns and spends another long time standing in front of his closet. Nothing seems to be right. He only has jeans and his suit pants, so that part is easy, but every single shirt he tries on looks like he's not trying hard enough. Or trying too hard. It takes him far too long to decide, but eventually he settles on a a pair of dark jeans and a white t-shirt under a blue plaid shirt he thinks he's probably only worn once.
As he brushes his teeth and attempts to control his hair, he has to pause, both his hands braced against the sink and his head lowered. Something doesn't feel right and while he doesn't want the headache that follows, he tries to open himself to the premonition anyway. All he gets for his efforts is a flash of light, the sound of rain, and a feeling of tension that settles low in his stomach and won't leave.
When he shows up at Spencer's house, he realizes he's about ten minutes early, so he paces a little down the road, then back again, then gives up and accepts that he's early. He's excited. There's no sense pretending he's not and as he makes his way up to the door, he wipes his palms on his jeans nervously. He knocks, then shoves both his hands in the pockets of his jeans, afraid he might be a little too forward when Spencer opens the door if his hands are free.
Several minutes later, it's clear Spencer isn't coming to the door. Joel looks at his phone, wondering if he's missed a call or a text, but there's nothing. The lights inside are off, but he's sure they had planned on meeting here first. He would have passed Spencer on the way if he'd gone to the store and he tries to convince himself he's probably just misunderstood. They're probably just meeting at the boardwalk instead.
But as he walks, Joel can't push back the feeling of dread that's building. When he gets to the boardwalk there's enough of a crowd that he knows he won't be able to find Spencer on his own, so he starts to ask around. He talks to familiar faces and those he's never met before, his panic slowly rising, the feeling that something is wrong more than enough to drive him to talk to people he's never spoken to before. None of them have seen Spencer. Some of the tourists don't even know who Joel's asking about. Several people roll their eyes. A few look worried and the rest tell him to relax. After ten minutes, he finds a private corner, takes out his phone and sends Spencer a text. Did I get the days mixed up? He knows he didn't, but he'd rather have Spencer tell him he's being stood up than hear what he's afraid of.
Less than thirty seconds later, he gets a response. Three words that make everything clear. He's not coming.
Joel feels like he stands in that corner for a long time before he's suddenly pushing his way through the crowd. He runs toward Spencer's house at a sprint and by the time he's there he's drenched in sweat, his heart racing from both exertion and fear. The front door is open when Joel tries the knob and he fights back a moan as he goes inside. He's already imagining what horrible things he might find and as he moves from room to room, his anxiety only grows because there's nothing. The house is empty. In the library there are two broken glasses and drops of blood, but no sign of Spencer.
Which means Mark has him somewhere.
Going into Spencer's bedroom, Joel takes a t-shirt from one of Spencer's drawers and lays it flat on the floor. He digs his pocket knife out of his jeans, then drags the blade across the pad of his thumb. It stings, but he barely feels it at all as he starts to smear his blood on the shirt. The thought occurs to him that he'll have to replace Spencer's shirt and an alarmed laugh escapes him, one born of panic and fear. Several seconds later, he has a crude map drawn on Spencer's shirt with his own blood and he closes his eyes, muttering to himself, trying to remember the words for the locator spells he'd been taught years ago.
When he opens his eyes again, there's a glowing mark on the map he's made, up near the cliffs. Joel pauses, trying to think of what's up there as the mark glows brighter and brighter, then bursts into a small flame that burns away the bloody map he's drawn. Leaving the shirt where it is, Joel scrambles to his feet, running toward the cliffs without thought. He's nearly there when he realizes he should call the police and as he approaches the abandoned lighthouse, he calls Detective Astor, rattles off the information as quickly as possible, then hangs up his phone.
Spencer is somewhere inside the lighthouse. And Joel is sure Mark is with him. He thinks the detective would tell him to wait -- and he probably did, but Joel can't remember much of the conversation -- but he knows he won't. If Spencer is in there, it's his fault and he can't just leave him.
He leaves his apartment six times during those three hours, takes a quick walk around the block each time to calm himself down, then returns and spends another long time standing in front of his closet. Nothing seems to be right. He only has jeans and his suit pants, so that part is easy, but every single shirt he tries on looks like he's not trying hard enough. Or trying too hard. It takes him far too long to decide, but eventually he settles on a a pair of dark jeans and a white t-shirt under a blue plaid shirt he thinks he's probably only worn once.
As he brushes his teeth and attempts to control his hair, he has to pause, both his hands braced against the sink and his head lowered. Something doesn't feel right and while he doesn't want the headache that follows, he tries to open himself to the premonition anyway. All he gets for his efforts is a flash of light, the sound of rain, and a feeling of tension that settles low in his stomach and won't leave.
When he shows up at Spencer's house, he realizes he's about ten minutes early, so he paces a little down the road, then back again, then gives up and accepts that he's early. He's excited. There's no sense pretending he's not and as he makes his way up to the door, he wipes his palms on his jeans nervously. He knocks, then shoves both his hands in the pockets of his jeans, afraid he might be a little too forward when Spencer opens the door if his hands are free.
Several minutes later, it's clear Spencer isn't coming to the door. Joel looks at his phone, wondering if he's missed a call or a text, but there's nothing. The lights inside are off, but he's sure they had planned on meeting here first. He would have passed Spencer on the way if he'd gone to the store and he tries to convince himself he's probably just misunderstood. They're probably just meeting at the boardwalk instead.
But as he walks, Joel can't push back the feeling of dread that's building. When he gets to the boardwalk there's enough of a crowd that he knows he won't be able to find Spencer on his own, so he starts to ask around. He talks to familiar faces and those he's never met before, his panic slowly rising, the feeling that something is wrong more than enough to drive him to talk to people he's never spoken to before. None of them have seen Spencer. Some of the tourists don't even know who Joel's asking about. Several people roll their eyes. A few look worried and the rest tell him to relax. After ten minutes, he finds a private corner, takes out his phone and sends Spencer a text. Did I get the days mixed up? He knows he didn't, but he'd rather have Spencer tell him he's being stood up than hear what he's afraid of.
Less than thirty seconds later, he gets a response. Three words that make everything clear. He's not coming.
Joel feels like he stands in that corner for a long time before he's suddenly pushing his way through the crowd. He runs toward Spencer's house at a sprint and by the time he's there he's drenched in sweat, his heart racing from both exertion and fear. The front door is open when Joel tries the knob and he fights back a moan as he goes inside. He's already imagining what horrible things he might find and as he moves from room to room, his anxiety only grows because there's nothing. The house is empty. In the library there are two broken glasses and drops of blood, but no sign of Spencer.
Which means Mark has him somewhere.
Going into Spencer's bedroom, Joel takes a t-shirt from one of Spencer's drawers and lays it flat on the floor. He digs his pocket knife out of his jeans, then drags the blade across the pad of his thumb. It stings, but he barely feels it at all as he starts to smear his blood on the shirt. The thought occurs to him that he'll have to replace Spencer's shirt and an alarmed laugh escapes him, one born of panic and fear. Several seconds later, he has a crude map drawn on Spencer's shirt with his own blood and he closes his eyes, muttering to himself, trying to remember the words for the locator spells he'd been taught years ago.
When he opens his eyes again, there's a glowing mark on the map he's made, up near the cliffs. Joel pauses, trying to think of what's up there as the mark glows brighter and brighter, then bursts into a small flame that burns away the bloody map he's drawn. Leaving the shirt where it is, Joel scrambles to his feet, running toward the cliffs without thought. He's nearly there when he realizes he should call the police and as he approaches the abandoned lighthouse, he calls Detective Astor, rattles off the information as quickly as possible, then hangs up his phone.
Spencer is somewhere inside the lighthouse. And Joel is sure Mark is with him. He thinks the detective would tell him to wait -- and he probably did, but Joel can't remember much of the conversation -- but he knows he won't. If Spencer is in there, it's his fault and he can't just leave him.
