Day 251 - The package had arrived

 The package had arrived

Matthew Ryan Fischer

 

“The package has arrived. I’m waiting.” said the stranger on the phone.

The package, I thought? I had ordered no package.

“The package from Carcosa,” was his response when I asked what it was.

“Who are you looking for?” I asked. I told him he was mistaken, and I had ordered nothing from Carcosa.

The man simply said, “my mistake,” and the line went dead. The call had come from New Jersey, but when I redialed the number, I got an error message.

When I looked on the front door stoop, I saw no package. When I checked the mailbox, there was nothing there. A wrong number perhaps, calling the wrong person to inform them of their delivery. A digit or two either way, and I had received someone else’s notice.

I thought little of it and went about my day. But slowly the nagging feeling crept back in. The package from Carcosa. It sounded a bit ominous. I decided to look up the store, but found nothing under the name Carcosa. As unlikely as it seemed, there was no trace or online presence for the store. It was a wonder someone could order a package at all from such a place. Perhaps that was why the parcel had been so mishandled, although I still didn’t see how my name and number could have come to be associated with it.

Carcosa, Carcosa, Carcosa, the name stuck in my mind, like an ear-worm burrowed deep. Was I becoming jealous? Of a package I knew not what it was for a person I knew not of? But what it was mine? What special treasure was someone expecting that I could have lied and intercepted? I could have had it all. The package from Carcosa and its infinite mystery would have been mind to unravel and unwrap. If only the number had worked, I could call back again and say I was mistaken and ask for the delivery to be rerouted to me. If only there was a way to reconnect.

I had no plans to leave the house, but the day was unseasonably warm and I grew tired in such a way that I must sleep or move, but sitting would not do. I seldom swam, but I suddenly got the urge. Lake Hali was a short drive away, and I suddenly found myself out amongst the tourists and vacationers. I rented a paddle boat and found my own distant locale away from the bathers at the shore.

I dipped my feet in the cool water and felt refreshed. The summer sun had burnt my neck, but now no longer felt sore. Soon I was splashing in and out of the water, sinking as deep as I could for as long as I could hold my breath. The cool lake a welcome respite from the hot autumn day.

Before I knew it, the shadows grew long and the sun began to sink. The time had spun away and I had not noticed. I looked to the shore and few remained. I began to paddle back as marveled at the full moon, already visible.

When I returned to my car, I noticed I had left my phone in the front seat and had missed many calls. I looked at the numbers and froze. At least a dozen from before, from the delivery man with the strange voice and stranger package. The final missed call was from my wife. I couldn’t wait to listen to messages. I felt a sudden urgency and called her immediately.

“Calm down, I can’t understand you,” she said.

I must have sounded mad, ranting about a man and a package from a store that didn’t exist.

“Package? Yes, your package arrived. The delivery man rang the door not half an hour ago. Shall I open it for you?”

I screamed “No” in terror. I begged and pleaded, not sure what I was so terrified by. “No,” I repeated. “No. A thousand times no!”

But I could hear the paper tear.

“No,” I whispered, tears in my eyes, my voice going dead.

I heard a gasp and the phone when silent. I dropped my phone and wept, hoping against hope it would be okay.