The Lamp (The Lamp Series, Book 1) by Jason Cunningham - HTML preview

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CHAPTER 3

T HE NEEDLE ON his dash indicated an empty gas

tank but Levi figured he had a good twenty-five miles

left before the car was totally dry. Of more concern to

him were the numerous rattling sounds coming from

underneath the hood, banging and pining like a

machine nearing the end of its life. Keeping a car in

impound for the better part of a decade can do strange

things to it. There was also a putrid smell coming from

the interior that might have turned the stomach of a

weaker man. The upholstery was cracked from baking

in the cruel sun while Levi strained his muscles for

twelve hours each day in the labor camp. Neither he,

nor his car, was offered any shade or rest from the

relentless assault of nature. Now they were getting

acquainted with one another like long lost friends, both

groaning as if suffering from a similar ache.

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The car rolled through the large city park, which was

walled in by the surrounding buildings, and Levi saw

groups with signs outside the dirty window. They were

huddled together in small cliques, looking scared and

exhausted. The protesters had lost their steam, at least

for the evening. Levi sped through the park’s main

thoroughfare, banked a right onto Broadway, and

headed straight for two miles, leaving the midtown

skyscrapers in his rearview.

Levi’s mind traveled back to the lamp and that

ominous note as the car bumped over railroad tracks.

He knew what part of town Burrows Avenue ran

through, and its reputation as a low-income crime

school for delinquents was well deserved. A couple of

teenagers had tried to car jack him in this very spot

years ago, but the event had come to a grinding halt

once they’d recognized his face. The thugs apologized

to the soon-to-be champ but Levi dropped one of them

with a liver shot anyway, just to teach the kid a lesson.

He smiled at the old memory and his current curiosity

held off any concerns for peril. His car pulled to a

sputtering stop as he glanced at the address once

more: 112. He was there.

He heard dogs howling in the distance as he stepped

out of the car and stood in front of an older brick

house with bars on the windows and door, shielding

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the home from whatever dangers lurked in this

particular neighborhood. “That’s never a good sign,” he

thought. “Surely K.S. doesn’t live in a dump like this.”

He circled the area, taking in his surroundings. The

street bore no activity. No cars passed him by. Levi was

growing frustrated.

“What am I doing here?” he wondered. His eyes

moved to the house and intuition told him that he was

supposed to go in. The porch felt shaky under his feet,

like it was just waiting to crumble if the wind hit it just

right. He reached through the wide metal bars and

knocked hard against the door, which sounded

abrasive in the silence of the night. After a moment, he

heard someone stirring inside the house. Then a voice.

“Who’s there?” The voice was sharp, and female.

Levi thought for a moment and returned, “Are you

K.S.?”

The door cracked open a few inches and he met the

face of a thin woman with blond-dyed hair who was

probably in her forties.

“Ain’t no K.S. here. Now get off my porch.”

Levi was unsure of how to respond. What was he

going to say? I just got out of prison and a note under

my lamp told me to show up here.

“Ma’am, I was sent here by a friend of yours,” he

said, before pausing. “I think.”

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“What friend? Who you talkin’ about?”

“I don’t… I don’t know exactly.”

“Mister, you best get on out of here or else I’ll get my

husband up out of bed and you don’t want to see him

get all pissy.”

“I know what you’re thinking, but…”

“Listen! I was born on a Tuesday but it wasn’t last

Tuesday. Why are you standing on my porch?”

Levi sighed and confessed, “I don’t really know.”

“Then I don’t know either. Goodbye.”

She slammed the door and Levi began knocking

again. After several moments, he decided it was best to

just leave. Then he remembered the note: 112 Burrows

Avenue . Bring the lamp.

Levi ran to his car, realizing that he had left the lamp

inside. Thinking the lamp itself might be a sort of

token password for entrance, he quickly snatched it

from the passenger seat and ran back up the cracked

steps and onto that shaky wooden porch. He stuck out

his fist to knock on the door but it swung open before

his knuckles made contact.

Towering in the doorway, behind the heavy iron bars,

stood an imposing and obviously irritated man wearing

boxer shorts and wielding a baseball bat.

“You the one bothering my wife?” he asked, almost

hoping the answer was going to be yes.

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“I’m not trying to bother anyone,” Levi said, knowing

very well he could disarm the man and club him

senseless in less than a second if he felt the urge.

Unless, of course, he was K.S.

“Then why you on my porch?”

Levi held up the lamp so the man could see it.

“Do you recognize this?” Levi asked him. “Does this

mean anything to you?”

The big man glanced down at the lamp, wondering if

perhaps the guy on his porch was a used lamp

salesman who’d mistakenly walked into the wrong

neighborhood. He’d seen stranger things.

“I’m not interested in whatever you’re selling,

partner. Look, it’s time for you to go. You’re bothering

my family.”

Levi then noticed something past the man, behind

him. A young girl of maybe eight or nine lay quietly on

the family’s couch. She seemed unresponsive to all the

fuss they were making.

“Is that your daughter?” Levi asked.

“Yes. And this is my bat. Guess who I’m introducing

you to first.”

The man held the baseball bat in a threatening

manner and it seemed like he was not afraid to let it fly

against someone’s head. But Levi couldn’t take his

eyes off of the girl, who seemed so quiet and

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undisturbed. He noticed a wheelchair in the corner,

resting beside a broken television.

“Listen to me,” Levi began, “I don’t want to hurt your

family any more than you want to hurt me. But I was

supposed to come here. I don’t know why, but the

person who told me to show up here is someone I kind

of need to trust.”

The imposing man in the doorway relaxed his grip on

the bat.

“Your daughter is sick, isn’t she?” Levi asked,

nodding toward her.

The large man tightened his lips, looked back at his

daughter, then back to the lamp salesman in his

doorway.

“Why you here?” he asked more slowly, and with

more bass in his voice.

“I think I can help her.”

Those words got his attention. Levi wasn’t even sure

why he’d even said it. He still had no idea if he had

been sent to this address to get beaten to death, or to

accomplish some other task that was important to K.S.

Either way, the idea of helping a poor man’s sick

daughter would at least buy him some time to figure

things out until K.S. arrived.

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The man in the doorway fell silent for a long while.

Levi was out of words himself, so he simply shrugged

as if to say, “What have you got to lose?”

Levi then heard the sound of a pin scraping against

metal and he stood aside as the door guard fell open.

The big man held it open, giving a slight nod of the

head to invite Levi to enter. He took note of Levi’s

mangled hands as he stepped inside, wondering if his

bat would be of any use against a guy like this.

Immediately, the man’s wife rushed into the living

room and loudly admonished her husband: “Don’t let

that crazy man into our home!”

The man put his finger out to silence his wife and

she didn’t look happy about it. Levi slowly approached

the little girl on the couch, his eyes meeting hers. She

didn’t seem to be disturbed by his presence, or the

least bit afraid of him. He placed the old lamp on a

coffee table that sat between them. The girl’s attention

turned to the lamp, her eyes conveying a measure of

curiosity.

Levi felt a new level of humiliation and pressure. He

had no idea why he was standing in this family’s living

room, trying to convince them that he could do

something for them. But he was out of ideas and deep

inside wondered if this whole thing was just a test from

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his mysterious and jaded friend, K.S., to see how much

mental torture he could endure in one evening.

“Who told you to come here?” the girl’s father asked,

still ready to smack Levi in the head with his bat if he

sensed the slightest move toward his daughter.

“Someone named K.S. I never met him. I was hoping

you knew him.”

The man shook his head “no.”

“That’s what I figured,” Levi sighed.

Levi turned toward the little girl and just stood there,

watching her gaze at the useless trinket in front of her.

He began to feel a sense of mounting pressure. It

seemed to him that a long time had passed since he’d

set the lamp down and now he stood in front of the girl

feeling like an epic loser, or worse, a crazy person.

“Maybe you should turn it on,” the girl’s father

suggested.

“I don’t know if it comes on. There’s no knob and I

can’t find a wick.”

“You don’t know how to turn on your own lamp?”

“I can’t get the glass open to put a candle inside. I

don’t know.”

The wife’s anger began to rise. “Okay, we gave you a

chance and now we can all see this was a mistake.

Best be on your way now. We’ve had enough dealings

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with you faith healer types, preying on the poor and

desperate. And we’re not giving you our money either.”

Levi had been called many things over the years, but

never a faith healer. His hopes sank to the floor. He

had failed. He didn’t even know what task K.S. wanted

him to accomplish but it was clear that whatever it was

— it wasn’t this.

“Yeah,” the girl’s father agreed. “I think it’s time for

you to go. And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t come

back.”

“Just wait,” Levi pleaded, still hoping against reason

that K.S. might show his face and end this

embarrassment.

“Look,” the man said, raising his voice. “You are a

crazy person and we don’t want you in our house

anymore. You have ten seconds before I break this

Louisville Slugger over your forehead. Get out! Now!”

Levi turned to the little girl’s parents, pleading with

them to wait. A shouting match ensued and Levi’s

temper began to flare, mostly due to the

embarrassment of having to jump through hoops for

some insane antiques dealer. The big man reached

back to grab his baseball bat as his wife yelled at Levi

in a furious and frightened tone of voice. They both

wanted him gone.

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Given the state of tension among the adults, none of

them had noticed a subtle light emanating from the

lamp on the coffee table. None of them except the little

girl. Her eyes grew wider and wider as she slowly

propped her weight onto an elbow and stared into the

lamp, totally mesmerized. The chaos of furious

argument all around her did nothing to distract the girl

from the draw of the lamp’s sudden light. Within a

matter of seconds, the little girl found herself standing

up, calmly holding the lamp between her tiny hands.

And that’s when the mother saw her standing.

“OH MY GOD!” flew out of her in a gasp. Levi and the

father turned to her at once and the bat fell to the floor

with a clunk and rolled away. The paralyzed little girl

was standing fully erect, holding a lamp that was shot

through with a symphony of dazzling light. Not just

any light, but a surreal, pulsing glow that made it

seem like an atom had been split and the lamp now

contained the energy of a tightly packed nuclear

explosion.

Levi and the girl’s father were frozen in place. The

three of them stood in awe of the lamp’s beauty and

apparent power, wondering if they would soon be

blown into next week as its force pressed against them.

Bathed in intense rays of impossible color, Levi

wondered if this was the end. He had been sent here to

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die in what would later look like a pipe bomb blast.

Levi looked at the girl, the paralyzed girl who somehow

stood on healthy legs. The light then disappeared in an

instant and the room fell dark. It wasn’t actually dark;

it just seemed that way in the absence of the lamp’s

unusual, otherworldly brightness.

“What is this that I’ve just seen?” he asked himself in

thought.

The girl’s parents ran to her, grabbing onto her with

tears of confused joy. But not Levi. He reached over,

grabbed the lamp, and fled the house, overwhelmed by

terror. He threw open his car door with such violent

force that it almost came unhinged. Tossing the lamp

into the passenger seat, he peeled away into the night

with a thunderous roar. The power that had healed a

little girl’s legs had sent his mind racing.

“What is this that I’ve just seen?” he repeated to

himself.

• • •

It had been more than a week since Levi’s lamp had

healed a girl on 112 Burrows Avenue at the behest of a

stranger. Not that he wasn’t thrilled for the girl or her

family; it wasn’t that. To him, it was more like

discovering that everything you know about the world

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turns out to be wrong. Levi grew more curious about

K.S. as the days wore on. He had not received any

more notes since the incident and wondered if perhaps

he had done something wrong.

Levi had a lot of time to think about the previous two

weeks’ exploits since his days mostly consisted of

replacing pipes and patching drywall holes at the

apartment building where he spent most of the

daylight hours. He sometimes looked back on his time

at the labor camp with envy: it was grueling work and

danger lurked everywhere, but at least he understood

that world and could navigate it fluidly. There was a

routine. Now that he was a free man, Levi existed in a

world that now seemed foreign to him. Nothing was the

way he remembered it and this K.S. person had

introduced him to an entirely new reality, one in which

strange powers existed beyond his control.

Levi had no fear of men. He’d been in the ring with

the roughest and toughest and had laid them all out,

one by one. But he feared the lamp; not so much the

object itself, but whatever or whomever had the power

to activate it. He was naturally afraid of what he

couldn’t comprehend, and the lamp definitely fit into

that category.

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