by R E Swirsky
Chapter 15
Friday, October 14th 1:12 am
Jack's dreams had always taken him far away to many dark places. Some of his dreams were set close to home, but many were scattered across the two provinces he traveled at night while selling his goods and building his life. There was a fortune in these dark places, and each place in his dream opened up to a more sinister and devilish place.
Tonight, he found himself standing alone in the quiet of a washroom in the back of a seedy bar in the east end of Vancouver, a block from the Vancouver Harbour. He was standing at a urinal alone with his attention immersed in the polished, white surface beneath him. He was struck by how sterile the surface appeared. The only sound came from the steady drip of a faucet behind him. A scruffy native Indian with long, black hair stood beside him, unzipped, and began to relieve himself in the urinal beside him. Jack stood still and stared down to his left. He spotted six black, curly pubic hairs spiraling downwards towards the bottom of the urinal. Instinctively, Jack reached out towards the hairs with a flesh-colored, latex glove-covered hand. He snapped all six hairs into his palm and closed it into a fist. He looked up at the Indian who was now young Josh Anderson standing next to Jack playing his guitar and smiling.
"See Mr. Gardner, I didn't kill your wife. I'm busy playing my guitar."
Jack stepped back and listened to the noise coming out of Josh's guitar. It was a sour sound without melody or rhythm and screamed of pain and suffering. He opened his gloved hand to see he now held six, curly guitar strings neatly twisted together. He looked back at the guitar. Josh was feverishly scraping his raw fingers across it. Jack was horrified to see Josh was no longer playing strings, but long blonde hairs, the same color as Donna's hair. His eyes followed the hairs up the neck of the guitar to see a scalp that was still attached with blood dripping from the flesh that still hung there.
Josh continued to sing away, "See, Mr. Gardner, seeee…I didn’t kill your wife. See, Mr. Gardner, seeee…I didn’t kill your wife."
Jack woke drenched in a deep sweat. He tried to remember the dream, but it slipped away quickly. After a few moments, he could only remember Josh and his words, "See, Mr. Gardner, seeee. I didn’t kill your wife." He shuddered and tried to block the voice from his mind but it hung there repeating itself over and over again.
He got up and strolled around the house in attempt to free his mind from the words of his dream. He went to the window and looked out the kitchen window towards the river. He trembled. The moon was out in full force and cast an eerie light down through the barren tree branches between his house and the river.
The dream slipped away, but he could feel the residue of the dream crawl across his flesh as he shivered. He reminded himself to turn the heat on soon. He rubbed his hands up and down his arms to help his blood circulate, but he knew the coolness in the house was not the reason he had goose bumps.
What had he done?