Dastardly Bastard by Edward Lorn Page A

planks, the aged bit of rope, all of it. Only Waverly Chasm lay before him.
    A new voice growled from the cave’s archway, “‘Cross wreckage of bridge is where this man lives.”
    Donald spun and came face to face with a living nightmare.
    Darkness fell.
     

18
     
     
    LYLE LAKE PLACED THE CELL to his ear. A voice he never thought he would hear again said, “Hey, Brody.”
    Visions of summer days spent in Bay’s End flooded Lyle’s mind—throwing a baseball back and forth in Rifle Park as Charge, their black lab, ran maniacally between him and his father; Swimming lessons at Bachman High, his father’s hair slick against his forehead, Lyle wishing he’d grow up to be just as good looking as his dad; his head in a trashcan, Dad making slow revolutions with his hand on Lyle’s back after a trip on Space Mountain; a hospital bed, Dad’s face sunken in on itself, machines beeping; Dad whispering one final thing as he looked into Lyle’s eyes, “Hey, Brody.”
    “D-Dad?” Lyle’s voice cracked, his vision blurring as the tears came.
    “I need you to take a walk,” his dad said.
    “What? Where?”
    “Don’t worry about that. Just get moving. Run if you have to. Start back the way you came.”
    “I-I miss you, Dad.” Lyle looked into his mother’s eyes, remembering her cold words.
    “I miss you too, Brody.” His father’s voice sounded more alive, more there . “But we don’t have time for this. Get moving!”
    Lyle moved off to the left, away from his mother’s shaking form. He could hear her calling him, but he didn’t care. She grabbed his wrist, and he twisted away.
    His dad barked in his ear, “Run!”
    Lyle’s legs shot out under him, and he found himself moving down the trail at a rapid clip.
    His ears popped. Something was different. He couldn’t put a finger on it, but he felt queasy. Gravity was off. He felt lighter, as if the world could just slip out from under him, and he would go spiraling out of control into the sky.
    “You can stop now,” his father told him.
    Lyle came to a skidding stop. Gray dust rose at his feet. Loose rocks scuttled out, disturbed by his shoes.
    “What’s going on, Dad?”
    “That big guy with the camera, he saved your life. You remember?”
    “No. All I remember is mom yelling at me. She said you left us because… because you didn’t want to be a-around me anymore.”
    “She didn’t mean it, and you know it, Brody. I left because I died. No other reason. It was my time. You were my everything, boy. You still are.”
    “Then why did you leave us? I don’t understand.”
    “I didn’t want to go. Lord knows, I wanted nothing more than to watch you grow into a man. I am very proud of you. You’ve taken care of your mother during all of this. You’re a man in my eyes, Brody.”
    “Can’t you come back?”
    “No.” That word was final, harsher than all the rest, not angry, but stern, as if to hammer it home. “Listen. I know you don’t remember, but that man saved your life. Now he needs you to return the favor. The others saw him fall into the Chasm, but he’s not gone, and he’s far from dead. I don’t suspect they’re going to believe you, but you must try to help him.”
    Lyle looked back to where the group should have been, but saw nothing but the empty trail. “Where is everyone?” Fear took root, its icy tendrils rummaging around in his guts. “I’m all alone!”
    “No you’re not. I just needed a moment with you. Just walk.”
    Lyle took a step. His ears popped again.
    He found himself at an outcropping of rock. The trail ahead curved to the left. Lyle inched forward, rounding the corner of the rock face.
    The tour group was ahead of him.
    “But… but how…?”
    “I gotta go now, Brody. You do as I say. Find the camera man.”
    The telltale hum of a call in progress ceased, and Lyle was left looking at the screen.
    CALL ENDED
    No other words had ever felt more poignant.
    Lyle’s heart shattered in his chest.