The Beast of 1977 (Book 1)

Dressed in his slightly tattered grey winter coat, a Cleveland Browns knit hat and a Band-Aid in the center of his forehead, Isaac
stepped inside and gladly shook Levin's hand.
"Hi, Isaac," Levin warmly greeted.
Rubbing his cold hands together, Isaac smiled back, "How ya doin', man"
"Well, why don't you have a seat?" Jeremiah said as he sat himself down behind his compact desk.
Isaac took off his coat and hat and laid them on the leather couch behind him. He then tried to caress some warmth into his
arms. He was wearing a green Izod sweater and a faded pair of blue jeans, and even in all of his layers the young man still felt
like a six foot tall ice pick.
"Can I bum a smoke off of you, my man?" Isaac anxiously asked.
"Sure." Levin strangely eyed Isaac as he opened a drawer within his desk and took out a pack of Marlboro's.
Isaac secured the cigarette from the doctor and waited until Levin whipped out a lighter to ignite the tip.
"I wasn't aware that you smoked." Levin curiously grinned.
Isaac sat down in the chair in front of the desk and stated, "I don't smoke in front of my father and kid. But anywhere else, I'm
game."
"I understand." Levin nonchalantly waved his hand. "Everyone here seems to frown upon anyone who smokes anymore." He
hopelessly sighed. "So, how are you doing these days?"
Gradually coming down from his cold fit, Isaac explained in between puffs, "Not bad. Been looking for a job. And I got engaged
the other night."
"Congratulations!" Levin lit up. "When is the wedding?"
"My lady says she wants a spring wedding, so, I figure it'll be sometime around April or May."
"Super, just super," Levin graciously smiled.

Isaac stared pensively at the doctor while taking a long drag on his cigarette. He wasn't accustomed to being around such a
young looking professional man. In a way, it put him at ease, it made him feel as though he didn't have to live up to a lofty,
generational expectation that seemingly everyone over the age of forty had already set for him.
Studying Jeremiah with a keen eye, Isaac cunningly grinned, "You sure you're a psychiatrist and not some college kid trying to
get extra credit from his professor or something?"
Levin just sat back. "I'm actually five years older than you. I received my bachelors from Ohio State when I turned twenty-three. I
hope that meets your standards." He cracked a smile.
"Man, you must've been real smart back in high school. If it hadn't been for me smoking since the eighth grade I probably
would've joined the football team. And who knows, maybe the NFL."
"My dad once told me that smoking was the poetry of liars. It hides the true you behind a façade of so called lethargy."
Isaac screwed up his face and giggled, "Your dad sounds like mine. I swear, that man can recite just about every verse out of the
bible, and ninety-nine percent of the time I don't have a damn clue as to what he's talkin' about."
Jeremiah joined in on the humor while unhinging his tie. "I have an uncle who happens to be a rabbit in Utica, New York. Till this
day the man still gets me to recite verses out of the Tanakh."
"Does he have that real deep Jewish accent? You know, like he's gagging on something whenever he talks?" Isaac smirked.
"Yep, that's my uncle Jerome alright." Levin lightheartedly chuckled.
"Don't get me wrong, I love my dad to death, but you get tired of always hearing bible verses night and day. You would think after
hearing it for twenty years that I'd have the whole bible memorized by now." Isaac joked while squashing the butt of his cigarette
out in the glass ashtray on the desk.
"So tell me, how do you and your father get along?"
"We're cool, I guess." Isaac exhaled.
"Just cool," Jeremiah queried.
"Yeah, I mean, besides what happened back in November, me and him see eye to eye."
"You mean with what took place back at that house? Doctor Sanyupta never went into much detail back at Ashlandview."

"No, I mean me trying to hit my dad."
"Oh really," Levin panted. "What brought that on?"
"I don't know." Isaac sulked. "I wasn't exactly myself at the time. I swung at 'em, next thing I know, I wake up in my bed with a
swollen jaw."
"It was that bad, huh?"
"Have you ever seen my father? The man isn't exactly a lightweight, if you catch my drift."
"How did you feel when your father brought you to Ashlandview, Isaac?"
Isaac sat back in his seat and rolled his eyes upwards as though he were ailing. "At first, I was pissed. I was pissed at a lot of
things at the time. But when I finally came to and realized what I had done to both him and my lady, him sending me to that place
made all the sense in the world."
Levin pointed his eyes down at his desk and said, "Doctor Sanyupta mentioned that your mother was deceased."
"Yeah, she died six years ago from a brain tumor."
"Would you say that her passing brought you and your father closer together?"
"I don't know, like I said, besides November, we always got along. If anything changed after my mom's death, it had to be that my
dad stopped working so much. I think he slowed down so he could spend more time with me."
"You keep mentioning November." Levin insisted.
"Hold it right there." Isaac adamantly pointed. "I know what you're trying to do. Sanyupta did the same thing. So before you try
and go back in time with me, understand, I can barely remember what happened yesterday, let alone three months ago."
"Really," Levin's eyes opened wide.
"Yeah, I keep on having these...blackouts. Sometimes I can't remember things. Hell, I can't even remember how I got this knot
on my forehead." Isaac pointed to his skull.
Levin picked up his ballpoint pen and began to jot something down on a piece of white notebook paper in front of him.

"Doctor Sanyupta mentioned that you suffered from blackouts before. Have you seen a doctor about them? Are any of these
blackouts preceded by headaches of any sort?"
"Look, I don't have the money to go see a doctor just so he can tell me to take some Anacin. If it weren't for the state paying for
this visit I wouldn't be here now."
"I really want to get down to the root of these blackouts, Isaac, especially since they began after the incident in November."
Isaac squirmed about in his seat like an impatient five year old at that moment. He tried to cut his eyes away from the doctor's,
but Levin was seemingly just as persistent in reaching his patient.
"The other night, I remember talking to my dad. Then I went and made some popcorn and watched some TV. After that,
everything went dark. When I woke up the next morning, I was hanging out of my bed with the covers wrapped around my neck."
"I see." Levin murmured, still scribbling away on his pad. "Any headaches?"
"No, not really," Isaac shrugged. "And then there was yesterday. I remember waking up, eating breakfast, talking to Lynn on the
phone and then my dad taking me down to his job to see if I could get on. Then, we got back in the car, my dad stopped at a red
light, and...that's that." Isaac heavily pondered while staring endlessly at the brown carpeted floor.
"Doctor Sanyupta did mention that you would see...another person in your bedroom from time to time."
Isaac blushed before he turned his head and exhaled as if he were too ashamed to hear anything more come from the doctor's
mouth.
"Isaac, look," Levin steadily spoke, extending his right hand outwards to Isaac, "it's just you and me in here. The only other
person that knows about this is Sanyupta. I'm not trying to pry, I just want to make sure that you're okay."
Isaac looked up and coughed, acting as though he were trying to find the proper words to say at that stage.
"Look, ever since what happened back in November, I've been seeing this...thing. I'm not even gonna call it a person because I
never see its face. It just comes out of nowhere, and then it just leaves. It never speaks. It just walks around. I don't know if it's a
ghost or if it's all in my head." He bashfully explained. "Shit, I feel like Ford. I'm falling all over the fucking place."
"Isaac, I understand that you don't want to talk about what took place inside that house, but piece by piece, it'll start to come
together for you. I mean, I heard when they first brought you to Ashlanview that you were a...for lack of a better term, a wreck.
But after only a few weeks, you've made significant improvement. You're a totally different man."

Blushing, Isaac began to snicker to himself as if he were recalling something funny before he said, "I guess Sanyupta told you
about what I thought I was."
Levin sat back and took off his glasses. "Uh, yeah," he modestly answered. "I'll admit that it's not exactly what I expected to hear
from a man like yourself."
"What you really mean to say is that you've never heard a colored person sat that he was a...you know...that thing."
"I thought you people didn't like to be called colored." Levin haphazardly jibed while apparently waiting for a smile to make its
way to Isaac's face.
Isaac glared oddly at the doctor before laughing. He got the joke, he was just awestruck at the sheer boldness of the person who
was telling it.
"Isaac, look, I've been in this profession for two years now, and so far I've had three people tell me that they were vampires. One
guy that swears he's James Bond. Another person tell me that he's the reincarnation of Attila the Hun, and a woman who
believed that she was a ghost, even though she was about as alive as you and I are right now. What you think you are is the
least of your problems. It's normal to have these thoughts. You saw three of your friends get killed. That would give anyone a
jolt."
Isaac dropped his head and said, "Those cats weren't my friends. And as far as what happened back in November, let's just say,
for now...I got caught up in something totally unexpected."
"Well, speaking of the unexpected, I happened across some of your x-rays from your hospital visit after the incident. Isaac, I just
have to know, were you beaten up that night? Because your x-rays revealed significant damage to your entire skeletal system.
Extreme muscle strains. And even more amazing, it appeared as though your body healed within days." Levin explained,
sounding astonished.
Isaac once again regressed into his vegetative state of silence. He was determined not to go back in time at all costs.
"I just can't even begin to imagine the utter pain and agony that you went through." Jeremiah nearly lost his breath.
"Well, all I can say is that...I wasn't beaten up. And you're damn right, it was painful." He gritted his teeth.
Just as it looked as if Levin were about to throw another barrage of inquiries at Isaac, he paused to examine the young man who
suddenly took on the eerie appearance of someone who wasn't even in the same room alongside him.

Isaac sat in his seat, slumping closer and closer to the floor like he was about to melt right out of his chair.
"I miss my mom." The young man uttered in a tone that seemed so distant.
"I beg your pardon?" Sitting up, Isaac reiterated,
"I said, I miss my mom. Sometimes she could be just like my dad, spitting bible verses left and right, but for a long time, she was
my best friend. I was the one that pulled away from her. I got to that age when I thought I was too cool. Couldn't nobody tell me
shit. I'll never forget the day before they took her to the hospital, she and I argued because I wasn't doing my homework. That
was the last time I spoke to her before she passed. I always blamed myself for her dying."
With a look of syrupy sympathy in his blue eyes, Levin got up, sat down on the edge of his desk in front of Isaac and said, "Guilt
binds us in all sorts of trouble, Isaac. This so called ghost that you see, this mythical creature that you think you are, it's all part of
the culpability that you've been carrying all this time. It finally materialized when those men were killed in that house. Do you feel
guilty that you were the only one that survived?"
Isaac's eyes shifted upwards to the doctor's face. "Guilt had nothing to do with what happened that night. Everything that I felt
that night was real. I'm talking about a second chance. When I was laid up in Ashlandview, I got a chance to do a lot of thinking. I
got a son. I look at a lot of brotha's out there now, fuckin' up, doin' things they're not supposed to be doin'. I swore that I'd be
different. I want my son to look up to me like I look up to my dad. I want my fiancé to have a man that she can depend on. I
swore to God and even my own mother that I would be different. God spared my life that night because he wanted to give me a
second chance."
The more Isaac spoke, something inside of him began to twist and turn, much like a stomach ache, but on a less gut wrenching
level. He felt a crucifixion taking place.
"I was wrong. I was wrong about everything, but now, I can change things." Isaac continued on. "What happened to me that night
hasn't happened again since, and I wanna keep it that way."
Jeremiah, with a glare of confidence on his face, got up from off his desk and stuffed his hands into his pants pockets.
"So, is that it?" Isaac eagerly asked.
"Yeah...yeah, I think so." Levin smiled.

"So tell me, do you still think I'm crazy?" Isaac questioned while stepping over and picking up his coat, only to have several
Crayola crayons fall from out of one of the pockets. Giggling while picking up the crayons, the man blushed, "My son and I were
coloring together last night. That boy stuffed crayons any and everywhere he could, even in the toilet."
"Well, you're either crazy or you're the most rational man of the decade." Levin gladly remarked. "But I would like very much for
you to see a doctor about those blackouts. That's something that could be potentially dangerous in the long run."
"I'll see what I can do, man." Isaac replied in a patronizing fashion before shaking the doctor's hand and heading for the door.
"Oh, and be careful taking I-75 home this afternoon. There's a real big accident out there."
"Okay," Levin shrugged oddly, "but it's only 10:41."
Isaac cunningly smirked and asked, "Its Friday, aren't you people supposed to stop working by sunset?"
Jeremiah dropped his head and grinned back, saying, "Touché, my friend, touché."
"Ay ees. (See ya) Isaac spoke while walking out the door and heading towards the elevator. However, the closer and closer he
reached the doors, Isaac found it increasingly difficult to ignore his full bladder that possibly would not survive an hour long bus
ride home.
Aware of the bus' strict schedule, the man turned and jogged back down the opposite end of the hallway that led to the men's
bathroom.
The instant he stepped inside, Isaac didn't even bother to look around to see just who was in there along with him. He stormed
his way into the first stall, locked the door and unzipped his pants.
Immediately, the intense rush was a miraculous relief that he had been holding in for at least an hour. It was orgasmic enough to
where Isaac had to close his eyes just to savor the moment.
The end was nearing. Just mere seconds away from finishing the last few drops, something from behind pulled Isaac backwards
into the stall's door.
A steady stream of urine sprayed all over both the stall and Isaac himself. The young man sat there on the floor before going to
his knees and swaying side to side in an entranced state of mind.
There was something lingering about inside his mouth, like a word that was hanging on the very tip of his tongue. Isaac
continued to bob from side to side while urine dripped from his midsection. He felt so sleepy all of the sudden; his eyes would

hardly stay open.
Right then, someone walked into the bathroom. Immediately, Isaac stood to his feet and turned to face the stall door before
groaning, "Tuo." (Out)
The person on the end of the stall was washing their hands. In Isaac's ears all he could hear was water, water that sounded as if
it were a raging waterfall.
"Tuo," Isaac again moaned, nearly snarling as he scratched at the door with his own right hand.
"I'm sorry?" The man on the other end stammered. "Do you need help in there?"
"Tuo," he continued on.
A brief silence prevailed inside the bathroom before the man said out loud, "If you need help in there I can—
"Tuo," Isaac aimlessly rambled on.
Isaac could hear footsteps before what sounded like the bathroom's door being opened and shut echoed inside.
The stall's latch slid in the opposite direction. The door slowly swung open, allowing Isaac's half naked body to exit. With his
pants still hanging down around his ankles, the young man caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror just a few feet ahead.
He stumbled and plodded along the way while still mumbling his repetitive word. The instant he reached the mirror, Isaac
scraped his right hand across the glass and examined his face, as well as his bleeding forehead from where the Band-Aid was
peeling off.
"Tuo...tuo...tuo...tuo."
Without looking, he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out coins, lint and crayons. However, out of all the items that spilled
to the floor, the only one that remained stuck to his hand was a green crayon.
With the crayon, Isaac began to blindly scribble lines and peculiar childlike shapes on the mirror while uttering "tuo" over and
over again.
The doodling went on seemingly for minutes until strange and uncoordinated lines began to take on a form; the form of words.

His fingers barely had a grip on the crayon that he was using; they were loose and limp as though he had forgotten how to use
them.
On the mirror, in green Crayola, Isaac's hand wrote: Won tuo. (Out now)