JOE'S

Part Eight

Well - things didn’t quite go to plan today. I got on the radio with myself around noon. From the other side I got no ‘hello’ or ‘how are you?’ - but instead I got right to the point.

“Okay - after a few calculations I narrowed things down a few measures.”

“Measures?” I asked.

“Yes - measures, you know? - the scale of infinity.”

I didn’t know so I had to sit there and listen to myself explain. I don’t think I fully understood it, but it’s kinda like how there’s an infinite number of decimal numbers between 0 and 1, yet there feels like a larger amount between 1 and 100 even though it’s supposed to be the same infinity. I don’t know if that makes sense, but it’s the best explanation I can give.

“What does narrowing things down do for you?” I asked.

“For me - nothing. It’s about what I can do for you.”

“Well what can you do for me?”

“First - I need to know who you are.”

“So more questions?”

“Yes - more questions.”

“Okay,” I said, but before we started - I asked about the Mother of the harbor.

“No - that’s not a fixed point,” I said. “But I am curious - how do you remember it so well since it’s not?”

I told him about my notebook and about my little project sharing things with you guys. Said it must have jogged my memory.

I didn’t seem interested in that. Instead I was only interested in my notebook.

“Notebook?” I asked. “You have a notebook?”

“Yes - I write everything down. It… helps.”

“You do?”

“Yeah - I do.”

“Oh god,” my voice said, trembling through the static. “You’ve started the record then too. I’m so sorry… There's nothing I can do for you now. You’re locked in.”

“What does that mean?” I asked, but the static cut out.

I asked again.

Nothing.

I repeated it nervously.

“What does that mean?”

“What does that mean?”

“What do you mean ‘the record’?”

“What do you mean there’s nothing you can do?”

I got no answer.

Chase was with me. He calmed me down.

“Dude - chill. You’re looping. Whatever it is - we’ll get through it.”

It feels weird to write this all now. Like - is this causing something else? - something horrible? Should I even be sharing this with you? Does that make you - implicated? If so - I’m so sorry. I really am. I’ll stop after this post. Part of me thinks I shouldn’t even share this - but the storyteller in me cannot leave the arc unfinished - and I cannot leave you unwarned. At least - not this version of me.

***

Sunday, June 28, 2026

8:33 AM: I gave Manny the bed last night.

I took the couch.

It was the least I could do.

Before I left this morning, he was coming in and out of consciousness.

Through gargled words I think I heard him say, “She was in my head Dillon… She was in my head… I… I told you not to throw her children in the harbor.”

It made me wonder - was this all my fault? Was this the result of some weird inductive causality that started with me? Did I cause this? Was it me that put that thing in Manny? Whatever the case - I’m gonna make it right.

9:11 AM: When I arrived, Alex was fending off some tiger bunnies by a bench in the park. To be fair - he held his own. They scrammed once there were two of us. Chase arrived not long after.

It was weird.

I wasn’t used to seeing JOE’S so early in the day.

The way the light fell was different.

The shadows were different.

It felt alien.

9:32 AM: Alex asked to use the restroom before we got started.

I told him, “go ahead,” but then remembered that I still hadn’t checked.

The three of us crept over to the door.

We could smell it before we opened it.

Inside it was horrible.

The stuff stretched out of the toilets and the sinks and covered everything in the room - walls, floor, ceiling.

And it moved.

Slow.

Rhythmic.

Like breathing.

It felt like stepping into a prison of rotten flesh.

The stuff squelched under our steps and the entire room began to shake.

We rushed back out.

“Maybe just go behind the dumpster,” I said.

9:46 AM: When Alex came back inside he told us a little more about what’s been going on. He explained that the Mother had gotten too big for the Harbor - that she now has nowhere to grow but up. Up into pipes - into buildings - into people.

“So… what are we gonna do?” I asked.

“We’re gonna drive her out of the harbor,” he said, pointing past the harbor - past the airport - all the way out to where the ocean met the horizon. “Out there she can stretch for miles.”

“How the hell are we gonna do that?" asked Chase.

“Sound,” he said. “Our tests showed that she doesn’t like sound.”

“How can anything not like sound?” yelled Chase.

As a musician - he just couldn’t get the idea.

I simply nodded along.

I stopped asking if things made any sense a long time ago.

Alex said they had a massive store of underwater speakers in the boat. Only problem. She took over the boat. Step one of the plan was to get those speakers.

“She doesn't like sound you say?” said Chase, still sounding annoyed. “I'll give her something she can hate. Give me thirty minutes - I have an idea.”

He rushed out the door.

Now we're just waiting on him and whatever this idea is that he's conjured up. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't nervous.

“For Manny,” is what I told myself. “And his stupid dives.”

10:04 AM: The phone rang while we waited.

Funny - I wonder - how often does the thing go off while no one is here.

The call didn’t amount to much.

Just some heavy breathing.

I said if they weren’t gonna ask any questions - put in an order - I was just gonna hang up.

Just more breathing.

Alex looked at me weird.

I faked a laugh.

“Wrong number,” I said.

10:23 AM: Chase arrived back just after the call.

He had his guitar slung over his back and he hauled a great big amp in his arms.

It looked like he could barely shoulder the weight.

“Time to give this eldritch abomination a show,” he said as he dropped the amp on the floor.

Alex seemed pleased with the plan.

I just told him he’d have to figure out the wiring, but he seems more concerned with picking out which song he’s gonna play.

I hope this works.

10:52 AM: Now we might get a noise complaint - but holy shit - that worked.

Chase pulled the amp out to the dumpsters, the wires coiling in behind him, and he fucking shredded. Good to see his skill isn’t just all theory.

The whole building shook.

The tides underneath us grew violent.

For a moment we saw her tendrils rise high above the dock, and for a moment they all went for Chase - but he slammed her with some feedback and she reeled back and he continued playing. By the time he was done, the entire dock was cleared of her.

“She’s not gone,” said Alex. “She’s just under. There is still more to do.”

11:35 AM: When we went down to the docks, Alex’s colleague was floating face-first in the water.

We pulled him up.

His stomach was burst open from the inside, but whatever bloomed out of him was gone.

Alex sealed the body in a diver’s bag.

We wanted to give him a moment, but the harbor had other plans.

“The boat,” yelled Chase.

It had come untethered when the Mother released her grip, and inch by inch it drifted away from the dock.

“I got it,” I said.

I stepped onto the edge of the dock and leaned out to reach for it.

When my hand made contact, it only pushed it further out. Then something terrible happened.

I slipped.

For a moment there was nothing under me but the blackness of the harbor.

I braced for the splash, but it never came.

Something caught my shirt.

Not a hand.

A hook.

It punched through the fabric and caught me in the skin and held me there above the water.

Then a second hook grabbed my pants and hauled me back up.

I landed on the dock breathless.

Standing over me was the pirate, his frame silhouetted by the sun.

He nodded before reaching out and hooking the boat to pull it back in.

“Thank you,” I said.

“You know him?” Alex shouted over.

I turned around and said, “kind of - he uses our bathroom sometimes.”

When I looked back - he was gone.

Thank you pirate.

We’re heading out now.

All I can say - I hope we come back.

2:58 PM: Reporting in - we’re not dead!

At least not yet.

Currently the engine is busted, Alex is somewhere in the water, and Chase and I are hiding in the cabin.

The bucking of the water is violent.

I’m not sure what we’re gonna do - so here I am writing again.

I think it cures my nerves.

I guess I should say how we got into this mess.

Like I said before - we were heading out into the Harbor.

Alex had 23 spots mapped out. Said when we turned them all on - the entire harbor would reverberate like a giant bell. The only stipulation - they could only be turned on once they were all in place.

We started out east, then made our way to the westward banks. The idea was - we didn’t want to be out in the direction she would be running when we were done.

We had 19 of them in when it happened.

Chase noticed it first.

Alex was at the wheel.

I watched for coordinates on the boat's navigation system.

“Hey guys - what’s going on with that?” he said from behind us.

We turned around.

The diver bag was writhing.

“Connor!” yelled Alex as he jumped off the wheel.

He rushed over to the bag - it was nestled against the back of the boat - and he knelt down and ripped the zipper open.

We saw nothing but a shifting blackness - then it shot out - flying straight into the air and onto the motor.

It was part of her.

It had been hiding in him.

It squeezed the motor until the metal crunched and the boat came to a standstill, then it dove deep into the water.

Alex was crying.

The body inside had been completely destroyed.

“I’m going in,” he said with a cold resolve.

“What - are you crazy?” yelled Chase.

“Maybe I am,” he snapped. “But I’m not letting her win. The last four locations aren’t far. I can swim it.”

“She’ll get you man! Tell him Dillon!”

I could have said that - but I had another idea.

“If she comes close - just turn one of them on. Probably won’t drive her out - but it might keep you safe.”

“Good idea. You two just stay in the cabin until it’s over.”

He put on his diving gear and nestled the last four speakers into a pouch.

“Wish me luck boys,” he said before splashing down.

Well it’s been around thirty minutes since he’s been gone and I guess all we can do is wait.

3:26 PM: Chase and I sat there.

I shook my leg.

He tapped a beat out on the counter.

We had begun to lose hope.

Then we heard a knock outside.

“What was that?” I snapped.

“Alex maybe?”

“Or maybe it’s her,” I shuddered.

I grabbed a pot and pan from the cabinet.

If it was her, I was gonna bang like crazy.

We listened - there was more commotion outside.

Something climbing up the boat.

At first I just saw black and my heart skipped a beat. But then I saw it was only the black of the diving suit.

It looked like he was struggling.

“Alex,” I yelled and rushed outside.

Chase followed.

He was trying to pull himself up.

He strained.

His face looked desperate.

“She’s… She’s got me,” he choked out through exhausted breaths. “I… I placed them. No… no protection on the way back.”

Chase grabbed onto his arm and I started smacking that pot and that pan as hard as I could.

Chase struggled too.

Alex was stretched both ways.

The pot and pan weren't working.

Through his pain, Alex gasped, “the speakers… Turn on the speakers.”

I rushed over to the activation system and selected each speaker - I turned them on.

Instantly whatever held Alex went limp and Chase pulled him up.

“Is it over?” yelled Chase.

Suddenly the water grew violent - bucked us around like a grain of sand on a vibrating plate.

A deep rumble emanated across the harbor and the whole town began to shake.

You could see the blackness of the water bleeding towards the sea.

She was leaving.

We all fell and took cover.

When it was over Alex stood first.

He joked, “So who's ready to swim back to shore?”

Chase and I laughed as we got up, but he looked at us funny.

“Uh… you know I’m serious? No way I can make it now.”

Our laughs stopped.

“Why not just call the police?” asked Chase.

“I doubt you can even get a—”

“Got one - I can dial it now,” Chase interrupted.

“Don’t - I can’t get involved with police,” cut Alex.

Chase almost looked like he was gonna call - but then I had an idea. I snagged the phone from him.

“I know who to call,” I said.

I dialed the number.

They answered in a groggy voice.

“Hey - can you pick us up? We’re stuck on a boat out in the Harbor.”

The voice on the other side grumbled something.

“Dead engine - west side banks. And - thanks.”

I hung up the phone.

Manny’s coming.

5:15 PM: Manny pulled up, pale and still looking like hell - but alive.

We were happy to see him.

He grunted as we all thanked him as we got on.

Alex made sure to grab the diving bag.

We’re back at the bar now.

Alex left.

Manny is taking in the crate.

Chase is cleaning the bathroom.

I’m getting ready at the bar.

I asked if we should bother opening, but they both said, “why not? - we're already here.”

9:15 PM: I think I fell into a time slip again.

I came through just now.

Chico’s at the bar - Chase is showing him his guitar.

I can smell whatever Manny is cooking.

It looks like a storm has taken up outside.

The pointing thing is back - just outside past the light.

I guess it’s free.

I don’t think I’ll ever call it a man again.

And strangest of all - that pen and paper is back - this time with something written in my own handwriting. Funny - I don’t remember writing it. This is what it says.

“Does it hurt?” asked the Rabbit.

“Sometimes,” said the Skin Horse,

for he was always truthful.

“When you are real,

you don’t mind being hurt.”

I looked it up.

It’s from a children’s story.

The Velveteen Rabbit by Margery Williams Bianco. ‘

I’ve never heard of it.

I tucked it in my pocket and put the pen in my holder by the register.

I’m gonna ask Chico about his concert.

***

I think I’m gonna cut it there. I looked at the rest of the notes for the day. Nothing special. A rush from the dockworkers. Ryan and Liam came by again - asked about the wedding. Chase said he’d supply the wedding band and I reluctantly said yes. The weirdest thing was a man came in - only he was just a floating torso, arms, and a head.

Chase made a horrible, “seat for a half,” joke.

Of course I yelled at him.

You know - nothing but an average kind of night.

Well - I’m not sure if I’ll come back to this. I’m still scared by what I said - but then again - when have I ever known what the hell I’m talking about - and I don’t think things can really get any worse. I’m at least going to take a break though. Let the days pass by. I’ll keep my journal - but I think I’ve let myself be seen enough for now. I’m starting to feel too real. Thanks for reading though - and again - Chico - you son-of-a-bitch - I hope you’re happy.