“Jesus,” he whispered. Movement drew his eyes to the right. On the tree a few feet away, blossoms opened up on the curling vine. They started from the tip of the vine and opened one at a time down its length. To Brad it looked like the world’s slowest fireworks display. They were a plush, throaty blossom, reminding Brad of Morning Glories. The flowers alternated in color: pink, purple, pink, purple. The ones down near the base of the tree were larger than the ones at the tip of the vine, which were almost at eye level.
Brad backed up two steps without taking his eyes off the strange flowers. He pulled out his utility knife, thinking he should get a sample with flowers on it, but then changed his mind. Those vines hadn’t been there when he zonked out. What if he was just one more hypnosis away from being enveloped by the vines? He tore his gaze away from the pretty flowers and scanned for a good exit route.
He could feel his heart beating faster. It had been so long since Brad really felt fear, it was almost nice. The fear felt like a leftover emotion from childhood; something he wasn’t sure he would ever experience again so completely. There’d been an adrenaline rush the time the woman at the gas station almost backed into his car, but no real fear. Brad fed into the emotion, wanting to keep it going. He started walking.
The vine river spread out—Brad walked almost directly downhill to get away from them. His direct route back to his road had been flanked. After a minute of picking his way through the woods, the vines around Brad started to peter out. His pace slowed until the clicking sound started again. It was still coming from up the hill, from his clearing, but it brought Brad’s fear back with a rush. He started to run downhill through the woods, back towards his house.
BRAD DROPPED HIS latest vine sample back at the house and grabbed his binoculars from the laundry room. He hauled his biggest ladder from its hooks on the outside of the garage and headed for the big pine trees down near the pond. His property sloped down from the new pasture out back, and then up from a gully to the house. From the ladder, he thought he might be able to get a look at the pasture.
He propped the ladder just below a cluster of branches and started climbing. Way off in the distance, he could still hear the rhythmic clicking.
“Music,” he said to himself. For a second, he tried to fish the earphones out of his pocket while he stood on the ladder, but then he changed his mind and climbed back down.
Brad talked to himself while he hooked the earphones up to his music player—“Just in case. Justin Case. Maybe if I can’t hear you, I won’t get hypnotized? Worth a shot.” He found some classic rock to act as his soundtrack for his little spying mission.
Even at the top of the ladder, he was still a little lower than the clearing on the far hill, but he had a pretty good view. The branches he leaned on were covered in sap, but they felt more stable than trying to balance on the ladder. Brad propped his elbows on a branch so he could stead his hands for the binoculars.
He could see a portion of his overgrown road and the vine-covered clearing. The strange rock sat dead center in the clearing.
“I thought you were closer to the trees,” Brad said to himself. He couldn’t hear himself over the music. He glanced around, suddenly self-conscious and certain he’d see new vines climbing up the pine tree, or even the ladder itself. The drums on his music dropped into a low, steady beat. Brad thought he could hear the clicking beneath the beat.
With the binoculars at maximum magnification, his view jittered with each small movement of his hands. It almost looked like the rock was moving, but he couldn’t tell for sure. Brad switched back and forth between looking through the binoculars and pulling them down to squint over the distance.
He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. The breath steadied his hands. That’s when he figured it out—the rock wasn’t moving; it was spinning. It spun very slowly, clockwise. One of the bumps on the right profile of the big boulder slowly melted as it moved to the left. It took several minutes, but eventually he saw the same bump appear on the left side.
Brad hung the binoculars around his neck and fished his cell phone out his pocket. He turned off the music and ran through the contact list until he found the name he wanted. He started to dial and then changed his mind. Brad put the phone away and climbed down the ladder.
Once he stood safely on the ground again he dialed his friend.
“THANKS FOR COMING over so fast,” Brad said.
Brad walked his old friend Stavros back towards the pine tree where the ladder still stood against the tree.
“You sounded pretty panicked,” Stavros said. “Besides, I was just watching the crew dig up the culverts down by the fire station.”
Stavros Orestes acted as the Code Enforcement Officer for Kingston. Technically, Brad’s property was in Kingston Depot, which had a completely separate town government and a different enforcement officer, so Stavros was only there unofficially.
“Honestly? I’m a little freaked out,” Brad said. “Something strange is going on in my back forty.”
“Yeah, I heard. Apparently something so strange you wouldn’t even give me the slightest clue on the phone,” Stavros said.
“Wait, stop,” Brad said, “do you hear that?”
“Hear what?” Stavros asked.
“That clicking noise. Way off in the distance, do you hear it?” Brad asked. It was obvious to Brad, but he knew exactly what to listen for.
“I hear a thousand things clicking,” Stavros said. “You’re going to have to be more specific.”
“Never mind, you’ll hear it better from the ladder anyway,” Brad said.
He walked his friend across the back yard, around the blackberry patch, and down to the big pine tree where his ladder stood.
“Here, take these,” Brad said, handing the binoculars to Stavros. “Look straight across this way, over at the clearing at the top of the hill.”
“What am I looking for?" Stavros asked.
“The whole thing is covered in a weird kind of weed, but you’ll have to see it up close. Look for the rock in the middle of the clearing,” Brad said.
“Okay,” Stavros said.
Stavros Orestes wore his casual work clothes—cargo shorts, hiking boots, and a short-sleeve chambray shirt. He was accustomed to getting dirty during the course of the day and had no objection to climbing a ladder or a tree. He held the binoculars in one hand and quickly climbed the ladder with the other.
“I see the clearing, but no rock,” Stavros said.
“It might not be in the middle anymore,” Brad said.
Stavros lowered the binoculars and looked down at Brad, who stood on the ground looking up.
“Say that again?” Stavros asked.
“Just keep looking,” Brad said.
Stavros scanned the clearing for a few minutes before descending and handing the binoculars back. Brad couldn’t stand it—he climbed up and verified the rock had disappeared.
“I didn’t think it would move that fast,” Brad said. “I was looking at it right before you showed up.”
“So it’s not a rock?" Stavros asked.
“I would have sworn it was,” Brad said, “except it was rotating.”
Stavros spun his finger in the air.
“No,” Brad said, “not rolling, on a vertical axis. Clockwise. Like this.” Brad demonstrated, making a stirring motion with his own finger.
“That’s definitely not normal,” Stavros said, smiling. “You’ve got your rolling stones, and your stationary ones. Those are usually the only two types. Why don’t we just walk up there and you can show me where it was?”