can_we_possibly_be_friends_again_or_conflicted_codependent

Being male, I wander

Mom dares not wonder

What kind of monsters she birthed

She brought her own equipment

I was aggressive but shy

 

Her womb is the most magnificent

Temple I’ve ever visited

There is nowhere else I want to be

Sister insisted

I stiffened then gave in

 

Children tease, squeal, scamper

Adults know unspeakable reality

Dizziness of first love

Mayhem, murder

Solemn whisper of infinity

 

After an uncertain age,

No one wants you anymore

Old women bond

Confer their anger

Old men tread alone

 

She knew from moment he laid eyes on her, she had him. She wore no make-up, anemic complexion, chin and jawline slightly broken out with red spots, cobalt blue irises, aquiline nose, hair dyed dark, fuzz-balled scarf, light blue fluffy sweater, big buttons, canvas shoulder bag, skinny jeans, leather boots, little boney black dog with ashen appointments. Instantly he fell in love. He confessed, “Your Chinese Crested pup stole my heart.”

 

In doggie-style position, neither lover sees other’s face. The top sees backside. The bottom sees what? He didn’t know.

 

She unlocks the door. He enters room. She tells him what to do, making demands. He follows her orders. She questions, “Why do we dance to these tunes?” He answers, “I want to smell your smells, suck, drink your darkest juices.” She articulates, “Stay,” then kisses him goodbye. She wakes wearing his ring, around her neck. They are each other’s slaves. Ceiling leaks, floor creaks, light beams through window as they waltz arm in arm.

 

She demands, “I want roast rack of lamb, or thinly sliced Serrano ham on buttered toast for dinner. And then I want to go home alone. I need some down time, away from you. I don’t belong to you, god-damn-it!” Deep in financial debt, he hands the waiter his debit card.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A Day that wasn’t so Fine

 

A Day that wasn’t so Fine

 

On a summer Friday evening, Sanjeev , a smart  6’3 tall with straight hair was coming back from Pune to his home town which was 7 hour journey , he used to go  home on weekends every 15th days. He was wearing a costly rollex watch and dress in formal as he is coming directly from office.

Sanjeev as a child thought of studding with Fine arts then as it always happen mostly to all, he start his career as copy-writer in a small company, then shifter to advertising and then finally into Marketing Then he thought of turning marketing into a Fine Arts, he become the Marketing Zonal Manager for enter Maharashtra Region. He has made a good name and fame for himself in a short span, his manager’s always praise him for his achievement in such a small age of 28.

Last month he bought a Maruti Swift Vxi, and for the first time he is taking his car to his home town to show it to his parent. In home he has his Father, age 69 but always remain sick, mother 68, He has his younger brother studding BBA  in Delhi, Sanjeev, is still a bachelor, his parent has always tried for wedlock but he always refused and keep the discussion incomplete.

It’s around 11.30 PM , he is felling little drowsy ,  as he is driving for nearly 5 hours moreover had a lot of work in office today and since he has taken leave for two days till Tuesday so he need to complete some extra work also, further he don’t have a habit of driving such long distance constantly.

As he drives, he remember regarding  a short cut path, which was rarely used by other public vehicles as they don’t get much passengers in this way, and this roads meet the high way near the toll gate, moreover this road is bare and he can drive fast, this road will make his journey short by almost 1 hour.

So in the next turn he turned towards the short cut way, after  going for  half an hour or so, his car suddenly make some weird noise, that was very unusual for a new car only one and half month old.

Sanjeev, stop his car is was dark outside as purnima had just pass and nights are dark with no moon beam to support. He open  bonnet of his car and keep the head light on, as he has no knowledge of car repair, he kept look into  the engine try to get some hint .

But all effort in vain can’t able to identify the problem.

 

With fret in his eyes, as he know it’s hard to find  help in this road and the time is around 12 pass 10 by now ,he thought of walking ahead, if he can find any help or any Garage nearby he started to walk. He lighted his cigarette with new lighter , he don’t smoke much, but as he known’s it will be a long journey so he bought a pack of Gold Flake.

After walking few yards, he found a house with low bulb glowing outside, this brings a smile to his face because he hardly fine a fist of people In this entire short cut road he crossed.

As he walks towards the house, he saw someone is sleeping outside as always happen in India during summer.

He reach near the person , he is short guy hardly 5’4, with dark  complexion wearing a grubby cloth with lot of black stain, he is sleeping in a Charpai , a small bed made up of Ropes.

He is having a sound sleep look like a good sleep after long day work;  Sanjeev, awake him , “Bhaisahab” means Brother.

The man woke up hastily, give an annoying look at Sanjeev, and asked “Who are you?”

Sanjeev, told him about the glitch with his car and asked him if there is any Garage nearby, the man told him that he is a car mechanic, and this an only garage in this road.

Sanjeev took a deep breath as he can reach home by today,  Sanjeev smiled and asked his name. He told “Hari, Sahab”.

Sanjeev told, “Hari, you have to fixed the problem immediately as I have some 150 km more to go, I will pay you some more on top.

Hari asked about the car, Sanjeev showed him the car which was standing  few yards away, Hari, took all this equipments and start walking towards the car.

Sanjeev is now relaxed, took out one more cigarette from his pant pocket and search for his Lighter but, he can’t find it, he might have kept it in the car.

So, he asked, Hari whether he has got any light, Hari took out a match box and give it to Sanjeev. Sanjeev, light up his cigarette and gave one cigarette to Hari as well.

The head light was still ON , Hari, quickly examine the car and said “Sir, there is problem with the radiator it will take around 30 min, and asked Sanjeev to sit inside the car, or can have a cup of tea in a nearby tea stall that not far from the road  .

Sanjeev saw a small house, with a muddy banner hanging outside, he can’t read as it was dark. He wonders how he missed this house when he first stops his car here.

Anyway, Sanjeev thought of having a cup of tea will worth in such a situation, so he told Hari to call him once the work is done.

As Sanjeev start walking towards the House , he saw one villager walking towards him, as the person came nearby, Sanjeev, saw a man in his 50s with Lanthan , a kind of night lamb, in his hand.

The man asked  “Where are you going, sahab” , on reply Sanjeev told, to have a cup of tea in that tea stall, as his car is being repaired and will take some time.

The Man told, “Gayatri’s House“ now ,are you crazy ‘Babu’ Go back. Don’t go there. And, the man left.

 

Sanjeev got stunt and can’t understand the reason why the man told not to go, But he quickly get rid just what happened, and walked towards the house.

He knocks the door,’ a voice of aged women came” Who is it?”

I am stranger said Sanjeev, want a cup a tea, “can you please open the Door”.

Women said “Sorry we are closed come in the morning. We don’t open door for Stranger’s at night.

Sanjeev said ” My car had a problem, and it is being repaired, I need a cup of tea, sorry for bothering you. Thank you anyway I am leaving.”

Wait! Sahab, a voice of a young lady came, Sanjeev heard voice of two ladies whispering “Mother, that gentleman seems well-mannered; he really might need some tea”.

Then again, came the aged ladies voice,” Sunita, you know your Brother and your Father, they don’t like any strangers coming to our house at night, you still ….”

Sunita” No mother they are not here and also it will take just few minutes, I am opening the door you make tea for him”

Sanjeev heard sound of the opening Door, he saw a Girl in her 20s, long hair well tied, slim figure, beautiful eyes, wearing a salwar quite old threads started to come out of her dress but still sparkling, came out.

The girl, asked sanjeev to come in, with a smile in her eyes. Sanjeev, thanked her for her kindness and goes in.

The house has two room cleanness welled maintained, but by the first look anyone can say, they are deprived.

The Girl greets Sanjeeb and close the door and offer him a chair, Sanjeev, got charmed by her first appearance, He asked “Your name is Sunita” she nodded her head, says “yes”.

After a while the Sunita’s Mother came with a cup of tea, and give it to Sanjeev, she told “My husband and my son don’t like visitor’s at night, and often create trouble”.

As the discussion was going on suddenly sanjeev heard, “Open the door now, we want the stranger we will kill him how dare he “. Sanjeev , heard cacophony of voices a outside the door, among them two voices are prominent.

Again the door bang continues, “Let him out”, otherwise we will break the door”.

Sunita’s mother whispered “ I knew it will happen, God help us, please not again “. Sunita’s Mother asked sunita to take sanjeev to the next Room. She told “I will take care of them”.

By saying this, she shouted “ He is a good man , he had a problem in car , so I called him to have some tea, please you all leave, not again anymore”

A husk tone came from outside,” You Fool , His sort of High society people, always make fool of us, they come , and with some sweet talk, make relation with our Daughter’s and then Disappear forever, he bamboozle you ,Don’t you remember “Megha”, she had to commit suicide.

Sanjeev could not understand anything, what’s going on, So he asked Sunita.

Again, the sound came , “Let him out” voice of young man . Sunita told Sanjeev, that the persons outside, is her Father and Brother along with some other Villagers, they often comes at night and if they find any strangers in their home, they kill them.

Sanjeev asked “ what about the police , these people are murderess and should be punished, why don’t police take any criminal proceedings ”

Sunita,” Police sahib, Punishment, but they have already being punished, my father and my brother was hanged six years back”.

Sanjeev , stood up “What! they are  dead?”.

Sunita once again nod her head, By the time Sunita’s Mother came in, and said “ Sahab, you please stand inside the Circle, she showed Sanjeev a circle inside the room, again she added, you will be safe here, they can’t attack you , This is the place where their bodies were kept before the rituals.

The Banging of door continues, hard and hard, Sunita mother said” I think they are going to break the door today, God help us”.

Sunita’s Mother asked sunita to take sahib, from back door to Banwari’s uncle House, she will try to stop them here, Fast bete, and she added “Before anything wrong happens”.

Sunita hold Sanjeev hand in her hand and ran towards the back door, It was small 3’’ feet door, Sanjeev had to crawl down to get out.

It was dark outside, Sanjeev could hear the bang in front of the house, and they both ran towards Banwari Uncle’s house.

On reaching there, Sunita knock the door hard, a sound came from inside “Kon hai” a sound a elderly man came . Sunita replied “ Sunita, uncle please open the door.”

Banwari Uncle, “Wait, I am coming” He opened the door.

He said “what happens to you, is your mother ok “Who is he? He asked by look at Sanjeev .

Sunita replied,” he is a stranger passing by, stop to have a tea in your house, but my father and brother came, you know the rest; please help him allow us to stay here for sometime”

“No, you can’t stay , I don’t want to plunge  into it ” Sanjeev saw a lady may be Banwari’s Wife came out, and shouted at Banwari “ You Know all , but still, I can’t allow this happen”.

Sunita requested Chachi, means aunty, please help us.

And then suddenly, the horde sound came outside Banwari’s house, a voice “ Banwari, you was my friend , please don’t allow us to hurt you, let the stranger out.”

Sunita said,” Father is here, what do I do”?

Banwari said, “Bete, I can’t stop them, I better you take Sahab to the Kali temple, the pandit kaka will be there , asked him to give Maa Kali’s tilak to both of you, Once this is done that sprit can’t do anything, God is still greater than the Ghost.”May God be with you”. Now don’t think hurry up.

Sanjeev , don’t understand what to do he was Scared , he has never in such a situation ever, He prayed to God to save him, He also started to be fond of sunita, and her efforts to save him.

Banwari open the back door and said “ Sunita , take care, now hurry”and give an axa

Sunita again hold Sanjeev’s hand they ran, sanjeev followed sunita, he don’t have habit of running, his breath fastened. He still ran fast as he could.

They reached the temple; it was closed as the clock says 12.45 AM by now.

Sunita knock the temple door, “ Pujari ji, she shouted “Open the door please”

After few loud shout by Sunita “ Pujari Ji, replied “Wait I am coming”.

Pujari ji open the door and says “ Sunita, you now what’s wrong” then Sunita showed Sanjeev and narrated him the whole story, and asked pujari ji to give Maa Kali’s Tilak to both of them.

Pujari ji rush inside the temple and brought some Sindur, a kind of red powder considered as holy in the Hindus.

He put the Sindur in their forehead , and spell a Mantra, a prayed to god. And then says “ Sunita , Babu, your both are safe now, no evil spirits can’t do any harm to you, God is with you now “

A small relax smile came in both their faces, a feeling of relax, Sanjeev hold Sunita’s hand and thanked her for saving his life, and also told her there he will never ever forget her. Sunita replied him with a smile.

As they turn back to return , Sunita shouted “Baba!”, Sanjeev saw a group of people with Axe and Stick waiting outside the temple, and laughing at them, One of them shouted Sunita, “Move away from him”.

Sunita told Sanjeev that this person is her brother and asked Sanjeev to hold her hand tight, she said” Sunil Bhaiya, You can’t do anything to us now, we are in the temple with Maa’s Tilak on our forehead, and you don’t have power to fight with God.”

After Hearing Sunita, they all started to laugh loudly saying “ Temple, A place of God”.

Sanjeev could not understand why they are laughing neither do Sunita, Sanjeev looked at Pujari ji , and find him laughing too, in a strangely manner.

Then Sunita father replied “ Look Darling where are you standing”,  to a utter surprise they suddenly found them near a bamboo bush, surrounded by Ghost villagers, the pujari ji turned into a Pale villagers with no eyes.

Sunita shouted “Sanjeev, Run, this way”,

They ran , and the ghosts followed them,  they ran into the bushes , suddenly a men came in front of Sanjeev with Stick in his hand, Sanjeev couldn’t understand what to do, he took his axe give by Banwari kaka, and hit that men on his head, Spring of blood came out, the man fall down.

Sunita Shouted Sanjeev “What have you done, he was not among them, he was a living villager came to help me, and your killed him”

Sanjeev stood still, saying “ I Killed a person, I am a murderer, I should confess this to police”

Sunita said, “No time to think now, just run save yourself”

And Ran again, suddenly sunita called Sanjeev “ Sanjeev , look there is a bicycle you take it, and ride as fast as you can get out of this village”

Sanjeev denied saying “No , Sunita, I cant live you all alone here like this, you have to come along with me”.

Sunita “ No, that is not possible, I can’t come with you, beside I don’t have any threat they wanted to kill you not me, I am safe here, you run and save yourself, I will be fine,” she added “ there is police station half a kilometer from here, you can asked them for help, now please go”.

Sanjeev hold sunita’s hand a told her I will come to take you wait for me. By saying this Sanjeev ride the bicycle fast as he could.

After riding for a while he saw a signboard “Police Station, Kunda”

He parked the bi-cycle, and when inside the Police station, the police station was old with lot of black patches in the wall, sanjeev saw two constable and sub-inspector seating, and talking among themselves.

Sanjeev rush inside said “ Help me Sir, I have committed a murder”

Inspector stood up by hearing the word “Murder”

Inspector, said” Murder what, what happen, tell me in details”, the inspector asked his constable to give a glass of water to Sanjeev.

After having a glass of water, Sanjeev stared tell him the whole story.

Inspected   shouted at Sanjeev suddenly“ Are you dunked, are you out off your mind, what you saying”

Sanjeev replied “ Sir, what you are talking  about, it’s all true, I have killed one villager accidently”, and the girl Sunita life is in danger they might kill her, you have to help me”.

 

Inspector said,” Cool down, Sanjeev there is no village nearby, I am posted here for last eight years”

Sanjeev Uttered “ what” , then what was that, sanjeev can’t believe what he is hearing , he said to the inspector , Sir Sunita save my life, it is because of her I am alive she gave me the bi-cycle to run.”

Inspector told “Where is the bi-cycle can I see it?”

Sanjeev  “ yes, I have parked it near the gate, I will show you ” they walked towards the police station gate where he have kept the bi-cycle”.

Inspector asked Sanjeev ” Is this the bi-cycle”, Sanjeev saw a old bi-cycle with no tier and no sit, not possible to ride at all.

Sanjeev asked inspector, to believe him, he just now came this bi-cycle it was good condition.

The Inspector laugh and asked Sanjeev to have a sit, then the inspector tells him  the history of this place.

There was once a village there 10 years back, the villages always loves to do theater in their village all villagers participate in it, once while performing a play the village caught fire it was huge fire and almost all villages died in that incident.

But, now also they didn’t led the acting talent fail, they often design a plot and if any strangers come or pass by the play begins.

The Inspector added “They are not harmful, they will never harm you, take my word ,check your car it will be working fine by now”.

Sanjeev can’t believe the inspector at all , with contradicting to what he has seen, so asked  inspector to please come along with him to the spot.

The Inspector agreed, they all went to the village in police van, Sanjeev got surprise , there was nothing no village , only few burn broken house, his hair stood up,” how it could happen” he think in his mind, he can still fell the smell of Sunita.

Sanjeev stood still for a while , then back to his senses , by now he understand the whole drama, he laugh at himself of being one of the lead character in their drama, He went towards his car and try to start it , Good God, it got started in one self only.

Sanjeev came out of his car, and turn to the inspector to say “Thank you” But strange there was no one, the inspector, two constable and also the police van all disappear.

Sanjeev understood that the play has not been ended; He drove his car fast ………. Until he reach home

A promise is forever

“Trick r’ treat Mrs. Summers,” the little boy said, Autumn unsure of who exactly it was, the mask hiding the child’s face and muffling his voice. A hideous mask, a Cyclops monster, the little one-eyed creature held out their plastic Jack-O’-Lantern bucket expecting candy.
“And just who is that hiding behind such a scary mask?” Autumn asked, giving her evening’s first trick-r’-treater a heartwarming smile. She knew it had to be one of her students, just which one. Getting a hearty handful of candy from the large, purple plastic bowl resting on her lap, she dropped the candy in, knowing that would make any child happy, though she knew she gave such a hearty amount since it was one of her students.
“It’s me,” the child said as they lifted their mask, revealing it to be Tommy Clare, one of her favorite students. Not the brightest, but the boy had been raised right. Well mannered and attentive, he made up in young character what he lacked in academics. “And thank you Mrs. Summers.” Pulling his mask back down, the boy told her happy Halloween and made his way back to the sidewalk and down to the next house.
The trick-r-treaters were starting early that year, but it was still slow, still a little too early in the evening, which was just alright for Autumn. Taking a sip from her beer, the Busch light she was hiding behind her back so kid’s coming up for candy wouldn’t see, she checked her phone, which she knew was pointless, the Iphone having died no more than ten minutes earlier. Looking to the baby monitor next to her, her baby girl April was still fast asleep.
Autumn Summers had lived in Cleveland, Ohio her entire life. She loved the city. Not the sports teams. She knew nothing about sports. No, it was the city itself. The people. It was why she had become a teacher. She loved the city’s people, but more so she loved children. Seeing the kid’s play on the playgrounds, hearing them laugh. And how smart they could be; she found herself everyday in some way astounded by something one her students would say or do.
A third grade teacher, she was also a happy mother, her baby girl April having been in her life for almost seven months. Her daughter asleep, Autumn had mixed feelings about Halloween, but that wasn’t going to stop her from handing out candy to all the children that wanted it.
After thirty more minutes, more and more kids and parents had begun to fill the street, all different kinds of costumes, most making their way up to her house where she sat on her front steps, letting the children reach in and take whatever pieces of candy she had to offer. Some like Tommy would address by her name, Mrs. Summers, and every time one would, just like when they did in the classroom, it made her swallow hard, forcing her fight back her tears.
Eight months had passed since the funeral, and even after eight months it wasn’t easy. Smiling to each and every kid, she wasn’t going to break down, not on her front porch, not in front of all the trick-r’-treaters. Ryan wouldn’t have wanted that. Halloween had been their night, and he would have wanted her to enjoy it she convinced herself.
“Happy Halloween Autumn,” Mr. Wilson said, bringing his two daughters up to the house so they too could get candy from Autumn’s candy bowl. Mr. Wilson lived down the street with his wife and twin daughters, Tara and Brittney. The girls dressed in cowgirls, the costumes were practically identical, except for the colors, Tara mostly in pink, Brittney mostly in aqua blue. Mr. Wilson, waiting as his daughters got their candies, looked Autumn over. While he was married and she was widowed, he couldn’t help but admire the young woman, him like most other men finding her very attractive.
Only twenty six, her skin was flawless, a natural tan only complimented by her auburn hair and chestnut eyes. When she’d fully smile, she’d smile so wide her eyes would squint, which was her cutest feature. Dressed in a burnt orange turtleneck, she was wearing a brown and lighter orange striped scarf. Autumn had a weakness for scarves, her bed and closet littered with too many to count. Her hair shoulder length, she always wore it down, more often than not her bangs falling down into her face, her ever the casually brushing her hair away, and more often than not another boy or man would notice it and fall in love with her that moment.
But for Autumn Summer’s only one man and one man only had ever won her heart. The father of her child, her late husband, and the man she loved more so than she could ever love another, Ryan Summer’s had met Autumn on that night itself, Halloween, four years prior.
She’d been at a party, dragged there by her friend Katie. Not really one for parties, she had half-assed her costume, putting on a cat-ear head band and mascara whiskers upon her face. Katie had wanted Autumn to dress a little more, as Katie had put it, “sluttier”, Katie’s intentions being that of finding Autumn a boy-toy for the All Hallows evening, though Autumn wasn’t to delighted at the thought of hooking up with a stranger. Having turned down wearing the Playboy Bunny outfit that Katie had wanted Autumn to wear “oh so badly”, Autumn was content with her half-assed kitten costume.
Having stood alone at the back of the party most of the night, Katie talking to one boy or another, and a few guys having tried their moves on Autumn, she just turned them all down as politely as she could and sipped at her red plastic cup of beer, the smile on her face never once vanishing. Though she wasn’t the party type girl, she was still enjoying herself, seeing all the other’s having fun. The music wasn’t terrible either.
“These things are always such a drag.” Another guy seeing if he was lucky enough to win over the lonesome “kitten” of the party. Tall, dressed in a half-assed werewolf costume, with a dog eared head band on his head, a leather jacket with a fabric dog tail safety pinned to his jeans, Autumn did think he was cute, but she was most likely gonna turn him down like she had the others that had tried earlier.
“Got that right,” she said, joining into the idle conversation.
“So how do you get an elephant into a safeway bag?” the question the boy asked leaving Autumn perplexed. She looked puzzling at cute boy, his face serious, or as serious as he could keep it. Unsure if she heard him correctly, she just stared at him till he repeated himself. “How do you get an elephant into a safeway bag?”
“How?” Autumn asked, not sure what the safeway bag was, but curious as to what the cute werewolf was going with his strange, very strange question.
“Well. It’s quite simple my little party kitten. You just remove the letter ‘s’ from the word ‘way’. And the letter ‘f’ from the word ‘way’. That simple.” Taking a sip from his own red plastic cup, the cute werewolf gave a warm grin as the obvious bewilderment on Autumn’s face became more and more obvious.
“What?” Autumn insanely confused by the solution the cute werewolf had just given her to his strange, random question. “There’s no ‘F’ in way.” As soon as she said the sentence, as soon as she heard the words exit her lips, she couldn’t help but laugh.
“Oh, but there is an F’in way,” the cute werewolf retorted, joining into the laughter with her, a boy across from the two seeing their shared laugh, irritated that the cute kitten girl had turned him away, instead falling for Ryan’s stupid elephant in a safeway bag joke. “I’m Ryan” the boy said, extending his hand for a handshake.
“Autumn Christmas,” Autumn said, taking her hand in his, his grip strong, but not too tight. In fact, as she held his hand, she felt butterflies begin to flutter in her tummy. “And that’s not a joke. That’s my real name. My parents have a strange sense of humor.”
“Well Autumn Christmas, in a strange turn of events, my last name just so happens to be Summers. Quite the kawinkydink if I may so myself.” Knowing he should let go of her hand, he, just like her had butterflies, something he’d never felt before, at least not from a handshake.
“Summers, huh?” Autumn took another sip of her beer. “Wouldn’t it be funny if we got married. Then my name would be Autumn Summers.” Rambling on, her normally adherent and logical thinking was somewhat hindered by the beer she was sipping at, and the uniqueness the cute werewolf had from all the other boys at the party. “Oh god! I just met you. I mean, I just found out your name, and I’m already going on about getting married. Oh god. Yeah, you can walk away with that ‘yep that chick was psycho’ look on your face and I’ll completely understand. It’s just that I’m slightly tipsy, and you are REALLY cute, and…”
Silenced when Ryan put a finger to her lips, he was quick to pull it away and take a sip from his cup, then give a warm smile. He found himself more attracted to this Autumn Christmas than he had any other girl. At these parties, he, just like his friends would see how many girls they could hook up with. And while that had been his plan when he had begun conversation with Autumn, that was long since abandoned, the butterflies in his gut making him think with the head on his shoulders, not the one in his jeans.
“You seem like you can hold a stimulating conversation. You want to get out of here? And I mean that in a ‘I-find-you-funny-and-cute-and-think-it-would-nice-to-get-out-of-here-and-get-to-know-you-better-not-a-get-you-alone-to-see-what-kinda-panties-you-are-wearing-though-I-wouldn’t-mind-knowing’ kinda way. A nerdy smile on his lips, Autumn couldn’t help but laugh and nod, agreeing to get out of there with this Ryan Summers.
Looking for Katie, the girl was nowhere in sight, most likely a “victim” to one of the other guys, just another number for the boy’s ego, not that Katie minded any. Knowing she would have to tell Katie all about Ryan the next day, she was more worried about what was going to happen, what story she was going to tell her friend.
Following Ryan through the crowd to the door, she took one last sip on her beer before she set it down, Ryan doing the same and opening the door, motioning for her to make her exit first.
“Such the gentleman.” Leaning in close, she could smell his cologne, and the fact that he smelled so good was just another reason she found him so very, very attractive. Feeling a little uninhibited, most likely from the few sips of beer she’d had (Autumn was a light weight when it came to drinking), she thought she could reward Ryan with just a tidbit of information. “And by the way, they are Pink, with frilly white trim, and these little red hearts on the cheeks.” Planting a kiss on his cheek, she pulled away with the biggest grin upon her lips, unbelieving what she had just said, but rather proud that she had, leaving Ryan to realize what he’d just been filled in on.
And when it occurred to him what she had just told him, he was quick to catch up to her, just as big a grin on his face, and his eyes wide as he pictured those panties on his “kitten”.

That night, the two had gone for a long walk, eventually Ryan giving Autumn his jacket, her loving the gesture, and the two walking and talking for hours. She told him about how she was so close of becoming a teacher, her dream. Explained what the ring she wore on a chain around her neck was.
“It had been my grandpa’s wedding band. He was my favorite person in the world, and when he died, my grandmother gave me the ring. It’s like my lucky charm.”
“Does it work?” Ryan asked, his hands in his pockets, and the goosebumps on his arms going away. He was freezing, but he wasn’t going to ask for his jacket back.
When the conversation turned to him talking, he told her about his parent’s divorce, how his little brother was a flute prodigy, and how in a week from that night, Ryan would be leaving for basic training in the Army. A military police job awaiting him, she seemed sad till he told her he was just a reservist, which made her feel a little better, but not the much.
At the end of that night, she exchanged number’s and shared a long, passionate kiss before parting ways. The next day Autumn had been the one to text him first. They met for lunch. Then dinner. And they saw each other every day till he left. And even then she wrote him a letter every day, well, at least one letter every day.
She went and seen him when he graduated basic training, meeting his parents and little brother. They talked on the phone every chance they could when he was in AIT. And when he finally came home, they were inseparable.
The next Halloween, a year after they had met, Ryan proposed, to which Autumn accepted and the two were married a week later, the two too impatient to wait. Giggling like a school girl when it was finally done, she loved her new name.
“Autumn Summers,” she would say over and over again to herself. “Mrs. Autumn Summers.”

The last pieces of candy taken by Optimus Prime, Autumn wished the child a happy Halloween and got up to retrieve more candy, a few more bags sitting right inside the house by the front door. Grabbing her beer as she stood, she paused to listen to the baby monitor, April still fast asleep. Taking a long gulp of her beer, Autumn had a foot inside the front door when she was stopped in her tracks, her heart skipping a beat when she heard what she heard.
“Knights in white satin, never reaching the end. Letter’s I’ve written, never meaning to send.” It was Ryan’s ringtone. Coming from her phone. Her Iphone that was dead. Dropping the candy bowl, dropping the beer bottle, she turned slowly, tears welling in her eyes and she looked down upon the phone, the screen black, but the song playing. “Beauty I’d always missed with these eyes before, Just what the truth is, I can’t say anymore.”
Knights in White Satin by the Moody Blues. Both Ryan and Autumn had had a love for seventies psychedelic music. And that song, it was Ryan’s favorite. In her phone, that song was his, and only his tone. Not that it mattered. Her phone was dead. There was no way it could be playing. No way, she thought.
Moving back to the steps, falling to her knees, tears running free from her eyes, she just looked at her phone, stared at it. It was impossible, was all her thoughts were. Impossible for her dead Iphone to be playing that song. Her husband was dead, like the phone. Just a month before their daughter had been born, he had been killed in a roadside bomb. Breathing hard, Autumn was scared, shaking her head as she clenched her eyes shut tight, just wanting the phone to shut up, but too afraid to touch it.
Reaching for her necklace, it was the first time since Ryan’s death she had done so, but her neck was bare, her grandfather’s ring absent from where it had hung for years. Before each of Ryan’s deployment’s she’d given it to him, making him promise to bring it back. She’d always believed the ring to be lucky, hoping it’s luck would keep her husband safe, bring him back to her. But apparently it wasn’t lucky enough.
Feeling her heart beating, thudding in her chest, the Iphone silenced as she was startled by another, a young child at the foot of her steps.
“Mrs. Summers,” the child had spoken, spooking Autumn, making her squeal and jump a bit. The little boy, Steven Price, another of her students, was dressed as a pirate, and standing there, he had an apologetic look upon his face, not meaning to startle his teacher.
“Steven. Yes, Steven,” she said, wiping her tears away, trying to remain calm. Giving the Iphone one last look, she wasn’t sure if she had been imagining the song playing, or if it really had been heard.
“Here,” Steven said, holding out an envelope. “The soldier man across the street wanted me to give this to you.” Autumn, reaching to take the envelope, looked across the street but only saw kids walking back and forth, no soldier. Taking the envelope, Autumn read the words written upon it as Steven just walked away, turning to move on to the next house for more candy.
A promise is forever. The words written on the envelope. Crying harder, Autumn recognized the handwriting. It was impossible for her not to. It was Ryan’s. Running fingers over the letters, it was impossible. Just like her dead phone ringing, it was impossible. Opening it, there was a letter within, but there was something else as well.
Pulling the letter free, Autumn turned the envelope over, and falling free, much to her shock, was her grandfather’s ring, still on the chain. Her breath caught in her throat, Autumn sobbed heavily. Large tears forming from her chestnut eyes, they ran slowly down her cheeks, meeting at her chin, coming together to fall, the large tear drop hitting the ring itself upon her lap.
Looking up again, there was still no solider across the street. Part of her wanted to see her husband standing there, while the rest of her wasn’t sure what to think. What was happening? She did believe in ghosts, but she never thought something like this would ever happen to her. Where she thought her grandfather’s ring had been lost when the bomb killed her husband, there it was on her lap. And still unread in her hand was a letter, Autumn afraid to open. Afraid to read what was written.
One more look up, still nothing to shock and awe her, just trick-r-treaters walking back and forth, she slowly opened the letter, her eyes closed the whole time, Autumn taking a deep breath before beginning to read.
Kitten.
I didn’t mean to scare you with the phone. Didn’t think you’d answer, but hey, a guy can hope, right? This is all so hard to believe, I know. But, a promise is a promise, and I promised to bring back that ring.
I miss you. And April. I watch you both, make sure you’re safe. You smile in your sleep still. And talk in your sleep. Incoherent gibberish.

Autumn laughed. It was definitely her husband’s hand that had written this letter. Even after death, he was still able to find a laugh in anything. Smiling so big her eyes squinted, forcing a few more tears from her eyes, she continued reading.

I’m sorry I can’t come home. I really am. I miss your kisses. I miss your touch. I miss you. I wish I could hold our baby girl, which April is the most beautiful girl I’ve ever laid my eyes upon. She gets that from you. And I bet she gets that weird star thing you can do with your tongue from you too.
Anyhoo, I’m always here with you Autumn. Always watching you, keeping you and April safe. So, I did come home, I’m just not going to ever clean out the garage for you babe.
And if you are thinking, there is no way your husband is a ghost, or your guardian angel, there is an “F’in” way.
I love you Autumn Summers.
P.s. Look up.

Doing as the letter said, Autumn looked up to finally see him, Ryan, standing there across the street from their home. Dressed in his service dress uniform, his hands were in his pockets and he was smiling. Looking at him, he looked handsome, but it was obvious that there was something otherworldly about him. Unnaturally bright, it was like someone had turned up the contrast on her husband.
Going to stand, going to run to him, he shook his head, not wanting her to be disappointed. She couldn’t hold him. Couldn’t kiss him. It was taking a lot of energy to just be seen by her. No one else could see him, and that was a helluva trick that took him quite a while to learn, him having practiced it on the old couple that lived down the street. The one’s that had always given him weird looks when he had been living.
Pulling his right hand free from his pocket, he placed his right index finger to his nose, and like it was a button, his tongue slid out through his lips and smile. Autumn laughing, she did the same. That had been there “thing”, doing that to one other whenever they were at gatherings, parties, too far away from each other to talk, but still wanting to be silly and showed they loved each other. His hand falling back to his side, Ryan mouthed that he loved her, a shiny tear falling from his eye.
“I love you too,” Autumn whispered, watching as he disappeared in a bright flash. Sitting there, holding her letter, more tears ran from her eyes, but these were tears of happiness. Putting the necklace around her neck, she felt a brush on her cheek, a familiar feeling, like Ryan’s fingers brushing her cheek, brushing her hair away from her face.
Taking a deep breath, sighing deeply, Autumn was happy. Watching kids walk by, laughing, some already digging into their candy bowls, Autumn heard something that didn’t scare her at all. Coming from the baby monitor, she heard Ryan, and focusing on his voice, she had missed it so.
“I love you baby girl,” Ryan said, talking to his sleeping daughter, the baby monitor picking it up, Autumn sitting, an audience to a ghost father’s love. “Daddy’s here. Daddy’s always gonna be here.”
Knowing her husband was there, knowing he was her husband forever, well after death did its part, Autumn knew she loved him just as much then as when he was alive. The amount of effort he had to have gone through to return the necklace, the write the letter, she felt that she had to return the favor. And she knew just how. Gathering the baby monitor and her phone, she would clean the beer and broken glass later. She had a pair of pink panties with white frilly trim to find. Her husband was going to get a show that night.

The Night Guardsman

The planes of life and death are many, with just as many planes of reality and imagination in between. Take for instance Mr. Goodman Howe, a kindly old man who has lost everyone in the world he loves, and yet he still goes on day to day. But, on the first day in a long time, something good will happen to Mr. Howe, only in- The Twilight Zone…

*

Sitting in his vehicle, the rusted out ol scrap that it was, more rust on the truck anymore than paint, Goodman looked at the near empty parking lot, only two other vehicles there besides his. One, the day guards, Ricks. The other, one he hadn’t noticed before. Must’ve been someone working late, he thought. Something that happened ever so rarely.

After the death of his wife a few years prior, Goodman found himself lonely, the isolation of sitting at home alone filling him with depression and grief. Needing to get out, he opened the papers one day, the papers being from days before, and yet still, he saw the ad, called the number, and got hired to fill the position, no problems. Night guardsman for an avionics production facility. A quiet job, and quiet was just what Goodman thought he needed. A quiet job, outside of his eerily, quiet home. But over time, he found that his little guard shack didn’t offer any sort of relief that he had been hoping for.

Finally climbing out from his rust bucket, the hands on his watch finally finishing their crawl to those two one’s standing side by side like two lonely men, the eleven o’ clock shift starting, another night of nick-at-night reruns and reading through the papers from days before.

Strolling up to the shack, Rick already outside waiting, much like he did most nights, his impatience overly visible in his body language. “Bout time Goodman,” the kid said. The kid, Goodman thought, like he could call him that. Rick was in his early thirties, and compared to Goodman’s early seventies, hell, he could call him a kid. Damn kid’s.

“It’s right on eleven,” looking to his watch, seeing it was eleven o’ two, Goodman damning himself, caught in a very minuscule lie, but a lie none-the-less, wondering how it had taken him two whole minutes to walk from the rust bucket to the shack. Was he getting that slow in what used to be a strong, meaningful stride?

“Alright,” Rick said, just playing it off, knowing it wasn’t worth getting irritated with the old man. “You have a good night now.” With nothing else, the man, or kid in Goodman’s eyes made his way to his car, in it, key turned, wheels quickly turning to leave the ugly truck and one other vehicle sitting alone in the parking lot.

Climbing into the shack, shutting the door behind him, taking his seat, realizing that he had grown tired of the job, with no one there at night, nothing happening, Goodman just reasoned that it was just best he stayed put, kept the job. It’ll just be the same anywhere else, he thought. Lonesome. Quiet.

Grabbing a newspaper off the shack’s little counter, the counter itself littered with candy bar wrappers, which Goodman supposed was Rick’s, the man looking to have never minded his weight, and a small t.v., the company nice enough to run a cable line out to them so they could zone out on the job with the trash that was on the boob tube, as Goodman’s son called it.

His son, Gary, had moved all the way over to the other side of the country, in California, where he designed video games, or something like that. Thinking about him, his graduation from high school, college, Goodman was proud of his son, but missed him dearly, having not seen him since Christmas. Of last year.

Wish he’d settle down, give me a grandchild. Goodman thought, hoping his thoughts would drown out the silence of the shack, not that it was completely silent, the humming from the light above him relaxing, once you got used it that is. After so long, the sound became torture, staying in your ears well after your shift has ended and you’re lying in bed trying to get to sleep. Back to his son and a grandchild, Goodman reasoned that even if Gary had a child, its grandfather would never see it. Gary had always been a momma’s boy.

 

The hours rolled by slowly, agonizingly slow. Unable to even fall asleep, even though that was a no-no on the job, something he had been warned about countless times the day he was hired, Goodman knew better than to expect anything to happen. Nothing ever did happen. Ever. Flipping off the light in the shack, the television not even on yet, Goodman not having reached that point of boredom to give in and watch reruns that he had seen countless times, he looked out the dirty window up to the sky and stars, wondering if Mary, his wife, was looking down on here, feeling sorry for her miserable, widowed husband. But he also wondered when he had missed his chance to do anything worth doing in his life.

Not that life hadn’t been good, but looking back on it, Goodman just couldn’t think of anything that had been worth his life, worth life itself. And it saddened him to think that his existence on Earth had been wasted. Deciding to change his mood and demeanor, depression something he had gotten used to but wasn’t in the mood for that night, he flicked the television on, turned it to nick-at-nite, and let the show’s he was only half-heartedly watch take the rest of the night away.

An hour passed by like that, when startled by a sudden knock at his door, Goodman about fell from his chair, was almost certain that he was going to have a heart attack, his old heart pounding in a way it hadn’t in a long, long time. Looking to see who had spooked him, a kid, and this time a young man, no more older than twenty three, stood, smiling, mouthing the word sorry through the door’s tiny window.

Motioning the kid in with a wave of his wrinkled hand, the door opened, the young man stepping in, apologetic. “I’m really sorry bout that,” he said. “Didn’t mean to give you a scare there.” Laughing, Goodman thought little about it, just glad to have someone to talk to for a minute.

“It’s nothing, needed it to keep me awake. Is there something I can do for ya? You the one working late in there?” Looking out to the car that hadn’t left yet, it was the logical thing to think.

“Yeah, that’s me,” the kid said, looking out to the car. “Ol thing ain’t starting up, was wondering if I could use your phone, can’t seem to find mine.” Goodman, not even seeing the kid walk out to his car and attempt to start it felt bad, the old man never owning a phone in his life, and the realization that his shack didn’t have one either. What good was a guard with no gun and no phone? He thought, they really must not expect anything to EVER happen out here.

“Sorry, but, no phone. Wish I could help. Got a key to get back in the building, they got phones in there.” Reaching for his keys, getting up to walk in, the kid wasn’t too worried about calling for a ride.

“Nah, don’t worry bout it sir, thanks anyways. I don’t live too far from here, and I can walk. Nice night out anyways.” Looking back behind him into the stars much like Goodman had been doing, a smile came across the kid’s lips that reminded the old man of better days, when he young, and thought he could own the world. Instead, the universe turned everything around on him, leaving him alone in a too-crowded world.

“It is ain’t it. Reminds me of when I was about your age. Owned a cherry red ’56 Chevy. White top, never had the thing on with nights like this to drive around. Love the feel of the wind making my way down these roads. Remember when this parking lot used to be nothing but fields, looked so nice in the moonlight.”

Goodman was in a very happy place thinking back to his days of his reckless youth, burning down the back country roads, back before they were asphalt and yellow paint, with Mary in the passenger seat, neither wearing a seat belt, the voice of Buddy Holly trying to beat out the roar of the engine and the howl of the young couple’s laughs. The best of times.

“Those must have been the days,”  the kid said, still looking up into the sky. “Welp, I better get goin before the wife starts wonderin’. You have a g’night now sir,” the kid said, the sir surprising him, kids these days having no manners. Goodman just nodded, said a goodnight and a goodbye in response, his mind left wandering back to better days. His night would go by quick, the rest of his shift spent on back country roads with the wind blowing through his memory.

 

Two hours had grudgingly crawled by, leaving Goodman to wish he could return to working on his Chevy in his pa’s garage, or sitting with Mary the night of their first kiss, both nervous teens, just waiting for one to make a move. Mary made the first move, putting her hand on top of his on the hillside that looked over both their homes. They had lived close, their houses on the same street, their families went to the same church.

Seeing his rust bucket and the kid’s car being the only two in the parking lot again that night, he wondered if the kid’s car was still not running, left from the night before, or if the young lad was working late again, leaving the misses at home waiting.

Not in the mood to watch the television or read the paper that he had brought in with him, not that it was worth reading, the damn thing four days old, he instead walked out of the shack, stretching his old, tired legs, getting some fresh air. Stepping into the night, the air was a bit chilly, autumn creeping it’s way up on the closing summer, but autumn was Goodman’s favorite season. Most likely cause it had been Mary’s. She loved the colors of the leaves.

Very calm, taking deep breaths, taking in the stars, wishing he could just fly up there with them, around the planets, maybe take in the sight’s of Saturn’s rings, talk to the Man on the Moon, roast a marshmallow over the sun, Goodman jumped when he was surprisingly greeted from behind.

“Hey,” laughing, realizing he had yet again startled the night guardsman, the kid laughing, placed a reassuring hand on the old man’s shoulder, apologizing. “I’m sorry. Keep doing that too ya.”

“You’re gonna kill me one of these nights. Catch me just the right way and poof!, heart attack,” Goodman playfully grabbed his shirt over his heart, acting like his heart was giving out on his, going into full character with facial expressions and groans, getting a few more laughs from the kid. “Late night for ya again. Must love that overtime.” Finishing his laugh, the kid just nodded.

“Not really, but hey, could use the money. Takin’ in the night air?” he said, taking a deep breath himself, eye’s shut.

“Good night to do so. And those stars are just calling down to me. ‘Come play with us Goodman.’” Looking up at them, he knew Mary was up there.

“Goodman, eh. Well, I’m Matt.” Reaching out a hand for a shake, Goodman returned the gesture and was pleased by the strength in the kids, Matt’s, grip. A real man’s handshake Goodman thought. A gentleman’s.

“It’s nice to meet you Matt. You’re a good kid.” Goodman said it, instantly regretting calling Matt a kid, not sure if he would take offense too it or not. Kid’s these days, no respect and they take everything to heart. What happened to the youth of this over-crowded world?

“Same to you Goodman. Can I ask you something?” Goodman nodded. “You get bored in there, all by yourself at night? I mean, nothing ever happens round here. I mean, I say that like I know.”

“No, no, you’re right. Nothing exciting ever happens round here. They keep me here for my looks,” Goodman laughed, knowing his charm and good looks left him ages ago, replaced with wrinkles and worn out eyes. But back in the day, he was handsome. Could have been competition for James Dean, or Presley. And Mary, Mary had been so gorgeous. Could have a movie star, she could have. “Welp,” Goodman felt bad, holding the kid up with meaningless chit-chat. “Better get home to the misses now, don’t want to keep her waiting.”

“It’s okay. She’s prolly asleep anyways. I’ll stick around. You need the company anyways.” Goodman couldn’t argue with that. He wanted to tell the kid no, tell Matt to get on home and climb into bed with that girl, cuddle up with her and enjoy it while he had her. But it was only for one night.

“Not much to do round here at night. Got the little shack here,” Goodman said, slapping the door, like he was glad it was all his. “Got the television in there. That’s it. Not much for a young man like yourself. You really should be gettin’ goin.”

“Why don’t we sit out here and you tell me bout those days on these back streets, when these were fields in the moonlight.” Sitting down on the pavement, back against the wall, Goodman thought about and would be glad to tell a story, but he sure as hell wasn’t sitting on the ground. His old back wouldn’t last very long, and he’d never get back up. Grabbing his seat from inside, he made sure Matt wouldn’t be offended if he sat in it, the respectful young lad not caring one bit, just sitting cross legged like a young child waiting for a good story to be spun.

“Let me tell ya bout the time I was racing Charlie Everett…”

 

Life was good to Goodman. Going to work wasn’t so bad. Matt had stayed the whole night, heading home just before the sun came up, listening to the better days of an old man’s life, smiling the whole time. It was the best thing to happen to Goodman in a long, long time, and all the kid had done was listen, but, Goodman realized, Matt had done more than that. He let Goodman remember. Let the man go back to those days. Let him sit behind the wheel of his car. Racing down the back roads neck and neck with ol’ Charlie Everett in his Model T. Man, did Goodman smoke in at the end.

Walking up to the booth, Rick was outside waiting like he always was, although Goodman was fifteen minutes earlier than usual, a smile on his face, his whole demeanor just a little bit brighter.

“You look like a kid on Christmas morning,” Rick commented, wondering why the night guardsman was in such a good mood.

“I feel like it, that’s for sure.” Looking around the parking lot, he noticed for the first time since pulling in that Matt’s car was finally gone, not parked in the spot it had been for days. Maybe Matt had finally gotten it towed, or more than likely he had left early that day, not feeling like the overtime was worth staying late for. Goodman had to admit to himself, if the kid didn’t startle him that night, he would be a tiny bit disappointed, rather enjoying the young lad’s company.

“So, you hear about the accident? I swear they don’t tell us anything. I read it in the paper this morning,” Rick said, the excitement to tell his news almost sickening, Goodman knowing it couldn’t be any good.

“What happened?” Goodman asked, almost not wanting to hear.

“Kid died here a few days ago. Was working late, fell from a rafter while working on the tail of one of the birds,” birds being airplanes, “no one found him till yesterday morning. Company is trying to keep it secret. Can’t believe I didn’t hear bout it till I read bout it.”

“Kid. What kid?” Goodman asked, the part of him that questioned the unquestionable forming a name already, though the rational side of the old man’s brain told him it was impossible, but as Rick tried to remember, Goodman mouthed along with him just as the name came to him.

“Matt something or other. Young kid. Had a wife with a baby on the way.” Goodman couldn’t believe it. It had to be another Matt. Not his Matthew. It just wasn’t possible.

“Was there a picture of the kid?” the night guardsman asked, knowing a picture would prove the crazy assumptions going through his mind wrong, that he would be put to ease knowing his Matthew was home with his misses, doing what young couple’s do nowadays.

“Sure wasn’t. Damn shame though. Well, I need to get going. Have a good one Goodman.” And like that, Rick was gone, leaving an old man alone to wonder in a tiny shack.

 

An hour passed by when Goodman finally decided he couldn’t sit no more, staring out into the parking lot where a kid, no, a young man’s car had been parked the day before. Stretching his legs, hands in his pockets, he didn’t want to think about Chevy’s, or Charlie Everett, or the good ol’ days. He just wasn’t in the mood to think about those days, long and past.

Looking up at the stars, then to the moon, wondering what the Man up there was thinking about, Goodman was startled, nearing jumping off the ground by a “hello” from behind. He knew the voice, and knew that he hadn’t heard anyone walking up behind him. He also knew no one had been in the building working. No one. Turning to see Matt, the boy smiling.

“Sorry bout that. Bad habit I guess,” Matt said, looking at the sad old man before him. “You okay Goodman?”

“Are you bub?” Goodman asked the kid, only ever calling his son that.

“I’m fine. I mean, I feel a little weird, but I’m prolly coming down with something. Everyone is this time of the year.” Looking up from Goodman to the stars, his smiled turned into a small grin, an innocence present, a longing to be somewhere that he couldn’t get too. Goodman knew the kid didn’t belong there with him, was meant to be someplace else, with Mary. But he couldn’t bring himself to say anything about it. If Matt was supposed to be with Mary, wherever Mary was, the stars, heaven, wherever, he would go when he was well and ready too.

“So, want to hear about the time I got caught sneakin’ into a lasses room?” Goodman asked, the kid sitting down, cross legged, smiling and nodding. Grabbing his chair, Goodman was content. Maybe, just maybe, that was where Matt was supposed to be…

 

 

*

 

An old man left alone in an over-crowded world. A young man robbed of his youth in an accident, only to visit with a lonely man and hear about days long ago. There are many places we are destined to be in our lives, and in the times after our light has been extinguished. And sometimes the most important place we can be is there for someone who needs us. That is no more truer than in…. The Twilight Zone

 

One Helluva Nightmare

The pain was horrendous, unbearable. Hot wet tears rolled from his eyes. Trying to roll, so many hands held him down as others tried to save him. A constant ringing in his ears, his eyes blurry from crying, he knew where he was, but couldn’t make out anything that was going on around him.

He could remember had happened. He been standing outside his home, just watching the two kids fighting, thinking about how he had been just like them in his youth. The two boys were only teenagers, no older than sixteen, maybe seventeen. Other boys stood around them, watching, waiting for the first of the boys to throw a punch.

And then, for some reason, out of his pocket, one of the boys pulled a gun. Not believing what he was seeing, Nick was in shock. What the hell are you doing kid? Nick thought to himself, praying it was an airsoft gun, or a very realistic toy.

Watching the other boys around step back, and the kid that the gun holder had been arguing with instantly scared, his hands up, Nick began to approach, still hoping the gun was not real. Hoping it wasn’t loaded.

“Come on kid, what the hell are you doing?” Nick said, trying to catch the boy’s attention so if anyone was going to get hurt, it was going to be Nick. “Put that down before some is seriously hurt.” Approaching slowly, Nick had gotten the boy’s attention, but the boy still kept the weapon pointed at the kid he had been arguing with.

“Mind your own business!” the boy yelled, his hand slightly shaking, making Nick even more nervous. Nick, looking to the boy that the gun was pointed at, could see tears forming in the boy’s eyes, scared out of his mind, not knowing that the argument was going to take that dramatic of a turn.

“Put the gun down,” Nick, pausing, had to get the kid to calm down and come to reason. “What’s your name?”

“What’s it matter? This is none of your business!” Inching the gun closer to the boy he had been arguing with, the boy was openly crying, and the other teen’s were tense, not sure of what was going to happened.

“Put the gun down Dave,” one of the other teen’s said, standing closer to the boy with the gun.

“Shut your damn mouth! I’ll put it down if I feel like it! Scared,” the boy, apparently named Dave mocked, waving the gun in the crying boy’s face. “Crying like a baby, scared.”

“Put the damn gun down Dave. You think that makes you a man?” Nick mocked right back at the teen. He knew that Dave was trying to appear tough to his friends, trying to be a man, not backing down, suffering further humiliation from them. Nick knew that the teen was foolishly worried about his image. “Do you Dave? You think that makes you a man?”

Dave, now not so mad at the boy he had been arguing with, turned the gun towards Nick, just what Nick had been hoping, but the moment he was staring down the barrel, realized the carelessness of his decision.

“Do I think it makes me a man? Who the hell are you, man?” Pulling back the hammer of the gun, Dave held it steady, eyes narrowed, many of the other boys taking more steps back, worried of what their friend might do.

“I’m just a guy trying to keep a kid from making a very stupid decision.” Taking a few steps closer, Nick just had to get close enough to grab the gun. If he had to punch the kid out, so be it, but he couldn’t let anyone get hurt because of one stupid kid’s ego.

“You think you’re a man,” Dave said, “walking up here, trying to stop me from blasting him,” Dave motioned with his head to the teen he had pulled the gun on. “Walking up here, asking me if I think I’m a man. Yeah. As a matter of fact…” Pulling the trigger, Nick heard the second shot before he even felt the first bullet hit him. Three bullets before the group of teens jumped on Dave, fighting the gun away from him. Looking at them, none of them were hurt.

Falling to his knees, the wounds burned, all of them in his chest. Looking to Dave, fear was in the teen’s eyes. Dave had pulled the trigger, but after the act, couldn’t believe what he had done.

“Call an ambulance,” Nick whispered, not sure if anyone had heard him. He was looking around, watching the teen’s hold Dave down, some pulling their cell phones out, neighbors coming out to see what the noise had been, one man running up to Nick.

In no time he was in an ambulance, and then the hospital. His eyes burned from the white light coming from the ceiling, the ringing in his ears gave him a headache, and his chest ached with such intensity with each and every breath.

He knew the doctors and nurses were talking to him. But he couldn’t hear them. Closing his eyes, he couldn’t see them anyways, and he was tired of the burning ceiling light. A sudden cold coming over him, Nick knew he wasn’t going to make. It was obvious. The damn kid had shot him three times in the chest. God damn kid.

A heavy darkness coming with the sudden cold, Nick’s eyes shot open suddenly, a sudden bolt of energy flowing through him. Looking around, the light from the ceiling, the bright white light from the florescent bulbs was gone, instead a ceiling fan, spinning slowly, a beige ceiling.

His eyes forced shut again, his body’s muscles tensing, Nick forced them open, looking all around, the florescent ceiling light back, the blurriness difficult to see through. Trying his damndest to see through it, at the nurses, the doctors, the machines, he knew he was still in the hospital, wondering what the hell he had just seen.

Trying to take a deep breath, not able too, the jolt of energy rocked him his body once more, eyes slamming shut. This time when they opened, Nick’s head turned to his side, he was staring at an alarm clock on a side table, a lamp behind it. 4:13. That was what the clock said. Trying to turn his head to see more, his eyes shut once again before he could, the last jolt of energy passing through him with white-hot intensity.

Suddenly comfortable, suddenly calm, the ringing was gone, no noise at all. No doctors speaking, no nurses, no noise. And his body, relaxed, no pain, no one holding him down. Opening his eyes, the ceiling fan above him off, the beige ceiling illuminated by what little moon light spilled into the room from the window, curtains drawn back, the sky outside clear, stars very visible.

Looking to his alarm clock, it read 4:13. Blinking a few times, his eyes still heavy with sleep, he closed them, took a deep breath and slid his hand under his pillow, the coolness it promised welcoming.

That was one helluva damn nightmare, Nick thought, preparing to fall back to sleep.

 

The Wake pt II

I approached them slowly, the men, or man, I’m not sure how to word it. All standing around a single, lonesome coffin, I counted eleven of them, eleven of the same man, all wearing the same suits, black, all but one, who was dressed like a priest. And as the closer I approached, the stranger the scene became.

The fact that they all looked perfectly the same was inarguable, impossible to deny. Same clothes, save for the priest, same dark brown, almost black hair, same stature and slight slouch, and same faces. Complete without mouths and eyes. A nose, but where the eyes and mouths on of them should have been, just flesh, skin.

Realizing this, seeing these freaks of whatever they were, I stopped, my body wanting me to walk away, but for some reason my feet wanted me to continue forward. The men disturbed me, but the curiosity of the casket and the grave drove me to inch closer and closer.

The casket, looked as though it was decades old, wooden, appearing to be hand carved, nailed together and painted blacker than a moonless midnight. And upon closer inspection, so close that I was shoulder to shoulder with two of the mouth-less, eyeless men, that I could see the coffin was shaking, and light pounding could be heard. I questioned whether my eyes were merely playing tricks on me, and I pondered if the pounding was merely the wind playing games.

Bending down, the instance my hand touched that wooden casket, I knew it was shaking, the pounding coming from inside. Someone alive was being buried, and these freaks were going to bury that person, alive or not. Looking frantically for a way to open the casket, I was stopped, my wrists, shoulders grabbed by three of the freaks, one for each wrist, and the last my shoulders.

Pulling me back, pushing me to my knees, the one holding my shoulders moved it’s hands to my head, forcing me to look at the face of the freak-priest. It occurred to me that I had just walked up, not even thinking what they were, or where I was, or what the hell was going on? I had, without even thinking just approached, as though a puppet just being pulled by the strings.

Staring at the priest, he, or it, but I assume a he, reached to the fleshy spot where his mouth should have been, and with a razor sharp nail on his thumb, cut the flesh, blood running down from the wound. The blood though wasn’t red like that of a fresh, humanly wound. No, it was a darker red, and thick, so thick. I wanted to look away from the gruesome act, but my head was held in place, and no matter how I tried, my eyes wouldn’t close.

Finishing the self mutilation, the priest had sliced a line long enough to be a mouth, and opening his newly formed mouth, the flesh at the corners of the wound tearing, more of the dark red blood running down its chin, what appeared to be hundreds of razor sharp teeth could be seen. It had to have been hundreds, just so many.

“What are you?” I managed to ask, my voice sounding like a strangers to my own ears. The response given, from the priests newly formed mouth was what I assume to be a laugh, but it sounded like it was coming from under water. It sounded so distant, gargled. But it was a laugh.

My head finally released to move freely, I looked to the others, and instead of cutting a smile in their faces like the priest, they instead dug their nails into their faces above their eyes, pulling, the flesh pulling, tearing, ripping away. When all was finished, their hands, clothes, razor sharp nails were soaked with dark red, and where their faces had been, there was skull, permanently painted red from the blood. And their mouths were visible then, and so were the hundreds of teeth in each mouth. But still no eyes. Sockets for eyes, but empty darkness.

I wanted to ask what they were again, but I couldn’t find the words to form the question. My mind and ears were too full of their laughter, and my whole was full of fear.

 

The Wake Pt. I

It’s a truly strange feeling, waking up, and not being sure if you actually opened your eyes or not, the overwhelming darkness being equal in both situations. Or, if you are lying on your back or standing on your feet, your body so numb that you wouldn’t feel a needle sliding into your gut. That’s how I awoke, not sure where I was, or if a darkness that thick was even possible.

Sitting up, realizing that I was in fact on my back, I rubbed my eyes, but to prevail did the darkness lessen, still shrouding everything around me, including me. I couldn’t see anything, and worst, I couldn’t remember anything. Not even my name.

Standing, or attempting to, my legs were wet noodle, not having the strength on that first attempt to hold me up. Quickly falling back down, I landed hard on my ass, but my body was still numb, so there was no feeling. But stranger than that, there was no noise. No thud of my ass coming back down to meet the ground.

Yelling, trying to figure out what was going on, my voice had escaped my lips as no more than a whisper, though in my mind I had spoke in a nervous yell, my nervousness brought on by the unfamiliarity of my own voice. Raspy, it sounded as though I had gargles rusty screws, then chased them with four bottles of flaming whiskey.

Sitting, knees to my chest, trying to catch my breath and calm down, I clutched my eyes shut, though it didn’t matter if I did or not, the darkness would have been the same if I left them open, but I was wishing that when I reopened them, there would be a light.

Who am I? Where am I? These questions ran through my mind over and over, and each time the disappointment of no answer was all that came. Coming to terms that I wouldn’t get the answers I wanted sitting there, losing my mind a bit at a time, I again stood up, this time holding my balance, feeling as a toddler walking for the first time, only, this toddler is blind.

Turning slowly, there was nothing but the dark. Nothing at all, but that darkness. Looking down, I couldn’t tell you what I was standing on. Stone, didn’t know. Dirt, again, not sure. It could have been the mortified remains of dead babies and I still wouldn’t have known. Thinking back now, I really hope that wasn’t what it was, since I had been laying on it.

Looking around again, knowing nothing had changed, but hoping that maybe something had, a glint of something from above caught my eye. Looking up, in that darkness that my eyes had grown accustomed to, there was a light. Small, but even as tiny as it was, to my eyes, it burned like the sun. Looking away, rubbing my eyes, I looked back up slowly, the light still burning bright.

Staring up, wondering how I would get to the light, and what was making it, my thoughts were answered when suddenly, as though gravity had decided to change it physics, I fell quickly and violently to my side, slamming into a wall that I hadn’t known was there. My body not so numb, I felt the pain of the collision, and was quickly confused, when, just a moment prior I had been on my feet, and then, was lying down on the floor.

I knew I hadn’t fallen, and quickly getting to my feet, the light was no longer above me, but rather in front of me. A simple what the hell is going on went through my thoughts, my arms outstretched fully trying to feel for any other strange walls that could be around, but none were there.

Finally coming to a decision, I began to slowly walk towards the light. Still a painful brightness, I never looked directly at it at first, squinting, trying to figure out what it was as I approached, my steps a very cautious, slow pace. The closer I grew to the light, the more confused I became, and even more so did my questions grow, one in particularly, Where was I?

Upon the light in minutes, I was at a loss about the source. A lantern, a Victorian era street lamp looking lantern, with a candle burning inside, the light was bright and powerful, I could feel the heat feet away. What was odd about it, though the light was bright and warm, it lit nothing around it but myself. Knowing that was merely inches away, I still could not see myself or anything around me. Reaching towards it, the light did nothing to shed away the darkness, giving a clue away about my identity. Dumbfounded, I just looked into the light, watching the candle dance inside that lantern.

Finally giving up on ratiolization, I again reached out, but this time, I reached completely to the light, my hands touching the lantern, and more strange than anything, feeling a bitter coldness on my fingertips. But it didn’t last long, for within seconds of touching that lantern, my body felt as if it had been torn apart and put back together, then my eyes burned worse than ever before, the sudden shock of light hitting them.

Falling to my knees, I was in too much pain to scream or even breathe. Catching my breathe and the pain fading quickly, my eyes opened to a fading blurriness, my new surroundings coming to view. Trees, a light grey clouded sky, no sun. And what looked like a funeral, a group of people gathered around a casket as it was preparing to be lowered into the ground forever. As strange as my sudden appearance was, what was more strange was that there was no other headstones, it simply looking like a field with now a lonely grave. But more mind blowing than that, everyone at that funeral was the same man. And for some reason, I could swear I knew him.

 

I CAN SEE (poem)

This poem I also created as a teenager (pretty much all of them are) This one is also slightly morbid (as most of mine are) The inspiration for this poem was based upon a dream I had involving my late aunt.

PG 13



The Figure

 

It was a night just like any other: cold, dark, and lonely.  The only sound able to be heard was that of the light bulbs burning.  Standing there at the bathroom sink alone, he was aware of this.  Tired, he was, he began to wash up for bed.  He bent over the sink to rinse his face, then turned off the faucet.  However, he continued to hear water running.  When he looked up he saw, in the mirror, the tub faucet running.  He stood puzzled as it slowly turned to droplets, then turned off.  Still, unscathed, he continued getting ready.  He walked from the bathroom, through the halls to his room wearily.  He was still thinking about the faucet.  He crawled into bed and proceeded to shut his eyes and sleep.  That’s when he heard the running water again.  Alarmed, he rose and ran to the bathroom and flipped on the light.  Nothin’.  He ran to the kitchen and hit the light.  The water flowed intensely from the faucet!  He turned it off and went back to bed.  Then it came on again and again he turned it off and went to sleep.  This chilling sequence went on and on, finally causing him to just stay awake the whole entire night.

The next morning he was greeted by the sounds of sizzling on the stove.  Confused, because his family had all left for work and school, he ran to the kitchen.  He all but fainted; he saw no one.  So he turned off the stove and decided to search around.  He searched the house up and down in detail.  Satisfied in finding nothing, yet uneasy for the same reason.  He decided not to let it get to him, so he went about his business.  He drove around town on some errands and to see some old friends.  Pulling back in his driveway, he noticed something odd.  For standing in the top attic window was a figure.  This figure just stared back at him right into his eyes.  Then, it disappeared into thin air!  Startled, but not rattled, he goes inside and once in, he settles down.

Couple of hours pass with nothing happening.  Then the school bus pulls up and his little sister steps off.  She starts to walk up the drive, then freezes!  So he opens a window and yells, “Hey, why did you stop?”  She doesn’t answer but rather points straight ahead.  He peered out the window to see.  Nothin’.  He yells out, “Inside.”  She ran inside, slamming the door behind her!  He sits her down with a drink and once she regained speaking ability, he asks, “What did you see?”  She replies, “I saw a figure in the garden staring back at me.”  He figured it was the same one he saw earlier.

The day turns into night with both parents working late, they head out for pizza.  They arrive home around 8pm with their father following around 9pm.  They tell him about the figure they have seen and he agreed to keep a look out for it and that they would discuss it further the following day after work.  The step-mom says the same after pulling in around 11pm.  He tries to force himself to sleep after the day’s activities, then finally the sun rises and another day begins.  With both parents coming home early, meant more daylight to search in.  Search they did, then finally, in the garden, they discovered; BONES!  They decided that would be enough discovery for one day.  As the sun sets, they all did their best to put the day’s discovery out of their mind.  One by one, they headed off to bed.

Hours turn to days and days turn to weeks without so much as a strange noise being heard.  Until one night, he did hear a strange noise coming from the garden.  He had absolutely no intention of going out there alone at night!  The noise grew louder and stronger until it eventually awoken everyone in the house.  They all converged in the living room and began thinking of what to do.  However, as quickly as it appeared, the noise was gone.  Startled, they all decided to crash right where they were!  As the morning sun came into the windows, none of them could recall a time when it was so bright and welcomed.  They all went off to school and work and once again, he was alone.  All day he tried to catch a glimpse of the figure, but came up empty.

Midday came and found him sleeping peacefully in his bed.  Then he was abruptly awaken by the blaring of the television in the living room.  He raced to turn it off, then searched around.  He could feel the figure’s presence in the room with him!  He retreated to his room.  Later that night, he told his tale and the rest of the night, they were on guard.  He had just about forgotten about the figure when, seemingly out of nowhere, it walked in and stopped right at the foot of his bed!  He sprang up immediately!  Suddenly, it spoke, “Hello, I am the spirit you seek.  Enjoy my house!”  Then it vanished instantly.  Stunned, he lay back down thinking about the encounter.

The incident made him that much more inquisitive than ever!  Naturally, he shared his experience with the rest of them.  After careful consideration, he concluded that some things are better left unexplained.  Also, the figure posed no threat to anyone.  After dinner, a game, and some tv, they decided to get some well deserved shut eye.  With everyone off to sleep, he figured he’d do the same.  So, he went to get ready for bed and proceed to go about his life.  For it was a night just like any other: cold, dark, and lonely.  The only sound able to be heard was that of the light bulbs burning.  Standing there, at the bathroom sink alone, he was aware of this.

 

 

J5AHU7Y46ZJA

Home

What time is it? What frickin’ time is it? That question rolled through my waking thoughts countless times. Why? It had felt like I had been asleep for weeks. Asleep for such a period of time that the hands on the clock had forgotten me as they passed through the hours. That’s how I felt when I finally sat up on the futon I had so cozily fell into slumber on. Full Story

That Damn Diner

I’d written hundreds of short stories and hundreds of poems, but only ever read them aloud to myself and the everyday ham sandwich sitting in front of me that I was eventually going to eat. It was like that for years until the norm got boring. Full Story

Ghost On Pikes Peak

Motorcycle Racer Ghost Story

Back in 94, I was in a bicycle race down Pikes Peak in Colorado.  For practice you had to get up on the mountain before sunrise so that you could get as many practice runs in before 8:00, when the road opened to the public.  After practice I ended up spending the day working on bikes and misc. instead of catching up on sleep. Full Story

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