haunting stopped? The practical aftermath of such an incident never seemed to be addressed in horror movies, and he was unsure of what step to take next. Logic told him to keep quiet, not say anything to anyone, wait and see if something like this happened to anyone else before sticking his neck out and exposing himself to ridicule. At the same time, didnât he have an obligation to protect others? This wasnât just some shadow on the wall, this was a physical force that had attempted to pull him into the water, that could have drowned him. Shouldnât he warn others to keep them from harm?
But would anyone listen? Would anyone believe?
The lap pool sat there, light blue under the fluorescent lights, water once again calm, looking as modern and innocent as that in any fitness club.
Taking a deep breath, Lowell slid on his sandals, inching sideways toward the door, keeping his eye on the pool, prepared to run at any moment should the lights in the room go off or the water start to roil mysteriously. As he reached the exit, he was suddenly aware that there were other noises in the building, that his were not the only sounds in the Exercise Center. He walked through the doorway, past the showers and lockers. From the weight room up ahead, he heard the regular clang of metal on metal, as though someone were in there working out. This, too, seemed spooky under the circumstances, and his first irrational thought was that he would walk in only to find the place empty, none of the machines in use. He shiveredâand not just from the air-conditioning on his wet skin.
. . . Clang . . .
. . . Clang . . .
. . . Clang . . .
He paused in the weight room doorway, overcome with the certainty that thereâd be no one there. Or that he would catch a peripheral glimpse of someone in the mirrors lining the walls but the room itself would be empty. Thankfully, though, he saw through the overlapping rows of exercise equipment an overweight bald man sitting at one of the weight-lifting machines, heard the manâs very real grunts of exertion. As he drew closer, however, walking toward the exit, preparing to give a friendly greeting as he passed by, he saw that the bald man was not just overweight but grossly obeseâthree hundred pounds at least.
And wearing no clothes.
The sight was disconcerting, and alarm bells started going off in his head. Lowell wanted to glance away, but his gaze was drawn by the huge symmetrical folds in the pale sweaty skin, the rounded rolls of fat that jiggled with each grunting lift and subsequent dropping of weights. The man was not only enormous but fearsome looking, his shiny shaved head and ferocious countenance giving him an almost inhuman appearance, and Lowell slowed, stopped, not wanting to walk past the man.
Afraid to pass by him.
. . . Clang . . .
. . . Clang . . .
. . . Clang . . .
He scowled at Lowell, continued to press weights, and, horrifyingly, his penis trembled and grew until it was fully erect. The man lifted the forked bars up to his shoulder level then let out a tremendous guttural grunt as he shoved them above his head.
Lowell did not stay to see the finish but quickly exited the building, practically running as he made his way down the short corridor. A closed door to his right said SPA. He did not even want to think about what could be in there.
Outside . . . everything was normal. A family of four was heading down one of the gravel paths on a nature walk, the younger boy complaining that his feet hurt. On the road connecting the parking lots, a Reata staffer drove by on an electric cart piled high with clean towels. Lowell stood there for a moment just to reacquaint himself with the real world. He heard the shouts of children playing at the big pool, heard the thump of music from within a passing Lexus. The air was hot and still, but it felt real, it felt good, and in the space of a few moments what he had experienced within the Exercise Center seemed unreal
But would anyone listen? Would anyone believe?
The lap pool sat there, light blue under the fluorescent lights, water once again calm, looking as modern and innocent as that in any fitness club.
Taking a deep breath, Lowell slid on his sandals, inching sideways toward the door, keeping his eye on the pool, prepared to run at any moment should the lights in the room go off or the water start to roil mysteriously. As he reached the exit, he was suddenly aware that there were other noises in the building, that his were not the only sounds in the Exercise Center. He walked through the doorway, past the showers and lockers. From the weight room up ahead, he heard the regular clang of metal on metal, as though someone were in there working out. This, too, seemed spooky under the circumstances, and his first irrational thought was that he would walk in only to find the place empty, none of the machines in use. He shiveredâand not just from the air-conditioning on his wet skin.
. . . Clang . . .
. . . Clang . . .
. . . Clang . . .
He paused in the weight room doorway, overcome with the certainty that thereâd be no one there. Or that he would catch a peripheral glimpse of someone in the mirrors lining the walls but the room itself would be empty. Thankfully, though, he saw through the overlapping rows of exercise equipment an overweight bald man sitting at one of the weight-lifting machines, heard the manâs very real grunts of exertion. As he drew closer, however, walking toward the exit, preparing to give a friendly greeting as he passed by, he saw that the bald man was not just overweight but grossly obeseâthree hundred pounds at least.
And wearing no clothes.
The sight was disconcerting, and alarm bells started going off in his head. Lowell wanted to glance away, but his gaze was drawn by the huge symmetrical folds in the pale sweaty skin, the rounded rolls of fat that jiggled with each grunting lift and subsequent dropping of weights. The man was not only enormous but fearsome looking, his shiny shaved head and ferocious countenance giving him an almost inhuman appearance, and Lowell slowed, stopped, not wanting to walk past the man.
Afraid to pass by him.
. . . Clang . . .
. . . Clang . . .
. . . Clang . . .
He scowled at Lowell, continued to press weights, and, horrifyingly, his penis trembled and grew until it was fully erect. The man lifted the forked bars up to his shoulder level then let out a tremendous guttural grunt as he shoved them above his head.
Lowell did not stay to see the finish but quickly exited the building, practically running as he made his way down the short corridor. A closed door to his right said SPA. He did not even want to think about what could be in there.
Outside . . . everything was normal. A family of four was heading down one of the gravel paths on a nature walk, the younger boy complaining that his feet hurt. On the road connecting the parking lots, a Reata staffer drove by on an electric cart piled high with clean towels. Lowell stood there for a moment just to reacquaint himself with the real world. He heard the shouts of children playing at the big pool, heard the thump of music from within a passing Lexus. The air was hot and still, but it felt real, it felt good, and in the space of a few moments what he had experienced within the Exercise Center seemed unreal
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