Behind the Closet Door: Behind the Closet Door, #1

By Shari Rood

Henry Peterson has reached the end of his rope. Taunted at work and depressed by the constant rain, Henry reaches the breaking point when he is jilted by his girlfriend. In a moment of desperation, he locks her in the closet. The tension mounts when her sister suspects something. As Henry's world implodes he finds himself doing things he never imagined as he tries to keep her from being taken from him.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Wings ePress, Inc.
• Release date: Jun 6, 2023
• ISBN: 9781613091814

Book preview

One

Henry stood gazing at the closed door, his shoulders hunched as though an invisible weight pushed them forward. His day had been quiet before this. He had been in a stupor because of the rain. It had been pouring buckets for days on end. He wondered if he should start building an ark. This thought made him chuckle, the corners of his mouth turning slightly upward, making him appear quite handsome for a moment.

Henry was not usually noticed, a smile on his face a rarity. He was twenty-four and had lived a nearly invisible life in Lakeland for the past six years. His apartment was nice enough, a little run down perhaps. His parents had been middle class but they were gone now. He had no other relatives so there was no one left to criticize his living arrangements.

The door led into a closet. It was a standard walk in, not big by any means, but large enough to store boxes. There were hangers for his clothes and a bit of extra room to spare. Henry’s was a closet filled with the typical items for day-to-day living, as well as boxes of books and other bric-a-brac left over from a time in his life that was best left forgotten.

It was a closet in which his girlfriend stood, on the wrong side of the door, clawing and scratching wildly. This made him smile, broadly this time. He was not used to this kind of attention. No, his girlfriend had barely noticed him these last few weeks, but now she was shouting his name to the rafters. Some of the words were unpleasant, but he was starting to think that the tradeoff might be worth it.

Ten minutes had passed. A slight twinge of anxiety pressed in on him. He supposed that he could get in trouble for this, real trouble. This erased the smile and made his face seem dark, washing away most of the handsomeness, as though it were an ethereal thing, controlled mainly by his ability to smile. His hair was a limp, non-descript shade of brown. His eyes were blue. Not the sparkling kind but more of a stony gray, as though the color had been washed out of them by the ever present rain that had been falling for the last few days.

Let me out of here, you stupid jerk! Henry, I'm not kidding...you better let me out right now!

Henry hadn't said a word yet; he was afraid to speak. Maybe he could pretend it was an accident, that he'd been called away unexpectedly and didn't realize he’d locked Michelle in the closet. Yes, that might work, but who would call him? He had no friends. He had been cautioned at work by an assistant manager to improve his performance just a few days before this happened. It had been an exercise in humiliation and frankly, he didn't want to think about that right now.

HENRY!

He jumped at the sound of her voice. It was a simple white door, nothing special. One of those hollow core numbers often used in apartments and trailers. She could probably break the thing down if she tried hard enough. He wondered if she would.

He went to the kitchen to make a sandwich. The banging was disconcerting to be sure, but not enough to prevent him from eating. His cat, Marmalade, stared up at him, eyes wide. He opened the refrigerator door, pulled out the bread, some sliced deli meat and the mayo. He quickly threw together a sandwich while Marmalade jumped up on the counter to watch. The noise became frenzied. He walked to the bedroom and closed the door. That’s better, he thought. Muffled banging is always better.

Marmalade jumped off her perch, brushed against his legs, mewing and circling him like a shark. He pulled off a bit of ham and tossed it to her as he chewed on his sandwich, not really tasting it. His thoughts started to drift, the images bobbing into consciousness, then receding again: his father, the weather, his girlfriend. It was as though the rain were making his thoughts blur like a ruined watercolor. One image remained sharp, clear, unstained. The banging continued and he shoved his fists into his eyes. There was a dull throbbing; he knew it was only a matter of time before it turned into a full blown headache. He was in a pickle.

Let her out, what’s wrong with you? He realized that he was talking to himself and sighed. Don’t lose it, he said. Henry shuddered and bent down and picked up Marmalade who began purring. He kissed the top of her head and said, What am I going to do?

Two

Rex Roland looked at his watch. It was four; the diner was closed. It ought to be open at four in the goddamn afternoon, he muttered. He looked across the street. Even the hardware store looked empty. He wondered if it was one of those holidays the banks close for, but couldn’t think of what it could be. Flag Day? He was at a loss. He sat on a park bench and folded his arms.

He was only twenty-two but looked much older, lines already forming beneath the stubble on his face. He had come to Virginia to be a deputy again. He was itching to carry a gun. He took off his worn leather hat, scratched his balding scalp and cursed under his breath. He watched a lone pickup thread its way through the narrow street and turn back on to the main road.

This place looks deserted, he said and he dusted himself off and spat on the ground. Rex was too beefy to be considered handsome but he had a certain charm that women seemed to like. He knew he looked best when he had that uniform on, though. All he needed was a badge and a pair of mirrored shades, and he’d be the town’s newest catch. He laughed at this thought, wondering if there were any women that would make him want to get caught.

He walked to the courthouse, which looked ancient. There was a sign that read: Caitland County Courthouse established 1795. Rex walked up to the front door, the antique brick front shaded by a massive oak tree. He turned the doorknob and it opened. Son of a gun, he whispered. The place looked like something from a movie set. He walked up to the small reception desk and sat.

The woman on the telephone looked about fifty. Her hair was black flecked with silver and cut into a distinguished bob. She was pretty and Rex thought that she knew it. She could probably pass for forty, but Rex knew a thing or two about guessing a woman’s age. She had a youthfulness that overshadowed the fine lines on her face, but she seemed tired, like she’d been fighting some kind of inner battle. These thoughts ran through his mind in the time it took for her to look up. She waved at him and pointed to the phone, miming that she’d only be a minute. Rex smiled, stretched his arms up and placed his hands behind his head. He leaned back in the ancient chair wondering if his weight would break the damned thing. He watched her doing her job, talking pleasantly, then hanging up and brushing the hair out of her face.

Sorry about that, honey, what can I do for you?

Rex liked the soft twang of her voice and grinned. I wanted to inquire about becoming a deputy. I’ve had training in Waco, Texas, had a badge there for a while. I figure I just need to get re-certified or something.

Sure, honey. What you need to do is go across the street to the county jail. We used to take the applications here but...budget cuts, you know how it is. Anyway, Scott Harris is the sheriff on duty... He can help you out with the paper work, but I gotta be honest with you, honey, I don’t think they’re hiring right now.

Well, I appreciate your help. If it’s all the same, I’ll give it a shot.

You do that. If you ask me, I think we need another deputy. Scott’s been pulling double time, but you know how it is with budget cuts.

Rex nodded sympathetically and stood up. His eyes wandered down her dress which was tight in all the right places. Not bad, he thought to himself, for an older woman. He reached out his hand and took hers and shook it gently. Thanks again, Miss.

The woman giggled and said, No one’s called me Miss in twenty years, now you go on.

All right, Miss.

You got the words right but your accent is funny.

I guess Texas ain’t as far south as I thought. You have a nice day, Miss, you deserve it.

You go on now!

Rex put his hat back on and walked toward the door. He looked over his shoulder and saw that she was blushing. He opened the door and remembered what his mama used to say: you catch more flies with honey than with vinegar.

Three

Henry didn’t have friends , only curious acquaintances. There were a few guys at work that sometimes invited him to sit with them at lunch, but Henry knew it was because they thought of him as a freak and wanted to watch him up close, like a bug in a jar. The way he drifted in and out of conversation was a source of amusement for his co-workers. Dan Richmond said it was spooky, like there was nobody home.

Henry was unaware that he blanked out for short moments, but he did sense that something wasn’t completely right. He knew how they felt about him and he thought it was one of the painful truths in life, how a little thing could mark a person as different. A slight tic, a distant expression and it was all over. Henry didn’t bother to make an effort, since he had been branded as a misfit since he was a kid.

When he was young, he’d been teased a lot. He’d gotten used to spending time alone. Sometimes his dad yelled at him for being different. Henry didn’t argue. He knew better than that. He would slink up to his room and sit by the window until it got dark, letting his thoughts drift until he couldn’t hear anything—not the sounds of the kids playing, or the mothers calling their children home to dinner. His mind was in its own place and his jaw went slack. It was pleasant, no pain or sadness. Henry liked it best this way. When the last of the day had been wrung out like water from a bath towel, the last baseball hit, the last ice cream cone devoured, he’d sit in the semi-darkness until all was quiet. Maybe tonight Dad will be too drunk to bother with me, he’d think, and the monsters would stay chained in the cellar where they belonged.

The banging on the door interrupted his reverie. It was like a staccato drum beat. Almost rhythmic and it seemed to Henry that things were the way they ought to be at the moment. The anxious knot was beginning to subside, his confidence was growing now. Marmalade leaped up onto the table and curled up by his plate, hoping for another morsel.

He heard a loud crash. What do you think she’s doing? asked Marmalade. Time to teach her some manners.

Henry looked at her in surprise. It had been awhile since Marmalade had spoken to him. He scratched her between the ears, then he paused and it was quiet.

Four

Henry finished his sandwich, got up and went to the sink, rinsed his plate and placed it in the dish drainer. He turned on the stereo to drown out the racket which had started up again. He walked over to the window, looked down at the empty parking lot, and grinned a lopsided grin. There was no one to hear her.

Henry had never been faced with such a dilemma, but he was a quick learner. He walked over to the stereo and turned it up another notch. It was one of Michelle’s favorite Indie bands. He didn’t really care much for them, but Michelle had been trying to get him to appreciate their genius.

Now’s as good a time as any, he said to Marmalade as she circled his legs in agreement. He sat on the sofa; Marmalade immediately jumped into his lap. The combination of the rain and the cat’s warmth made him feel calm.

She has terrible taste in music, Marmalade said.

Henry thought about this and shrugged. He really didn’t know. A particularly loud crash startled Henry and brought him back to the present moment, causing him to lose his train of thought. He thought about going in there to see what she was doing but decided against it. Let her have her tantrum. He picked up a magazine and thumbed through it distractedly. Marmalade was still purring. The sound of the rain made him drift again but this time he nodded off to sleep and began to dream.

There was a park and a play set, but it was empty. He sat on one of the swings, slowly moving back and forth, his feet dragging on the ground. It was blustery, the sky was threatening rain. There was a snapping metallic sound.

A rope was hitting against the flagpole with a hollow ring that reverberated through him. It made his head ache. He wondered if he should try to run home but it was too late, the clouds were coming for him. The flag contorted, twisting wildly in the breeze. He looked up toward the sky...the rain was starting to come down in spatters, first in erratic patterns and then faster, more violently. His face stung with the angry, icy-cold drops. The noise increased. He could almost taste the metallic sound. He was soaked now, shivering. His hands were frozen to the large metal links of the swing. The cold was as unbearable as the sound. The roaring of the wind and the clanging of that stupid flag pole. He screamed in agony and he tried to tear his frozen hands away.

Henry startled awake and heard the muffled banging sounds coming from the bedroom closet. He remembered where he was and what he had done, but what had he done? Nothing yet, he told himself. He ran through a few scenarios. He could tell her it was an accident...that he didn't realize the door had locked. That he’d gone out not knowing she’d been locked in. It could work. He cautiously opened the bedroom door and paused. The banging stopped. He crept to the closet door and listened. He could hear her breathing heavily on the other side, which of course meant she could hear him too.

Henry, I know you're there, please let me out. C'mon, Henry, you know I'm claustrophobic! I swear I won't tell anyone what happened, please, Henry!

His breath caught in his chest. He didn't know what to do. If he opened the door, things would happen, bad things. She would call the police and they would send him to jail. He couldn’t go there; he’d already paid his debt to society...those days are over, he thought. The racket started again. Henry closed his eyes. He wanted to say, Hey, Michelle, I'm back, what happened? I didn't know the door had locked. I’m sorry for the argument; sorry that I shoved you in there. I was only teasing. The door wasn't supposed to lock. Oh my, let me get you out of there.

She would look ruffled but unharmed. She might scowl at him, call him a jerk and leave, but he didn’t think she would call the police. A sinking feeling washed over him; he knew better. The argument had been more violent than that. He’d said some awful things. She had scratched him. He had shoved her in and latched the door. There was no way to pretend that was an accident.

He sighed and walked out of the room. He needed to think. It was something that had become increasingly difficult lately. His mind tended to wander down strange corridors that always seemed to lead to a dead end. He didn't want to dredge up the past, but it was always there, like a submerged corpse waiting to resurface. He could just let her out. He wanted to let her go. Everything might be all right but deep down he knew better.

Instead, he decided to take a drive. He grabbed his keys and stuffed his wallet into his back pocket. He went outside, being careful to close the door quietly. He didn't want her to know he was gone. He would let her out when he came back; he just needed to think of a plausible explanation. Things would be all right, at least he hoped they would.

The rain was still coming down in sheets. Henry drove a silver Saab with black leather seats. He spotted his little car in the parking lot and ran for it, but he knew he was going to be drenched to the skin. He felt warmly towards the little car. After all, it had been the thing that had brought him and Michelle together.

HE HAD BEEN FEELING a little more confident than usual that day...the air was brisk and gave a tinge of pink to his usually sallow complexion. He had good bones; his face was classically handsome and from a distance, people were attracted to him. Upon closer inspection, they could see his pale, washed out eyes, the gloominess that seemed to lurk around him, weighing him down. Up close he seemed different and not in a good way. He had a way of making people feel uncomfortable. The limpness of his hair seemed to match his general demeanor; his unsmiling, awkward glances usually prevented conversation. That day was different. Henry was in an especially good mood. He had passed a difficult exam. A hint of a smile rested playfully on his lips. He noticed a very attractive girl looking at him as he blipped the car alarm. She approached him.

Hi there. I love your car. My brother has a Saab too. I like these old models, though; better craftsmanship, if you ask me.

Henry looked up for a moment, thinking she was talking to someone else. He smiled and looked away, not wanting to intrude.

What's your name? I'm Michelle, are you a student?

Henry, being unused to this sort of thing, looked down at the ground, then back to her. Perhaps she mistook this for a kind of shyness and was charmed, maybe she was curious or bored, but whatever she was, Henry couldn't believe that she was speaking to him. He managed to stammer out, Hello, I'm Henry.

Well, Henry, it’s nice to meet you.

Henry thought Michelle was a very pretty girl. Perky, some might say, or cute. She had chestnut ringlets and brown eyes that hinted at a bit of mischievousness. She was petite and had a lovely smile which framed her perfect teeth. She moved toward him and put out her hand; he shook it but didn't say anything.

Well, gotta go... nice to meet you, Henry.

Uh, wait. Henry couldn't believe he had spoken those words and it seemed to him that she looked at him with a slightly bemused expression.

Yes?

Uh, do you want to get a coffee? There's a nice place on the corner...my classes are over for the day.

He saw her hesitate and almost told her to forget about it, but her smile encouraged him. He shifted anxiously, glanced up at the sky and said, It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?

She laughed and Henry blushed. He turned to go and she said, Wait a minute. I’d love to have coffee with you, it’s just that you seem so nervous.

I guess I am. I’m not used to pretty girls talking to me.

Well, you should be...thanks for the compliment by the way.

Henry thought he might sink into the ground from embarrassment but he managed to pull himself together. You are pretty and I’m sure you hear that a lot, but I promise I’m not hitting on you. I just wanted to talk to someone friendly, if that makes any sense. I haven’t gotten to know many people here and today was a good day for me. I passed my English exam.

Well, let’s go then.

We could walk there from here, or I could give you a ride. I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable or anything.

Michelle opened the passenger door and hopped in. "I don't usually get into a car with