Daze of Reality

by Molly Barrett

  Finally, John arrived at his destination. As he pulled up to the near deserted gas station island, he rolled his eyes at the fact that the pay phone on his memory list was, at least at this time, out of order; as in it did not exist. Oh, there was an old beaten up metal booth, yet no phone to speak of.

  “Son of a bitch,” John mumbled under his breath. This was a first. Should he get out and check for some kind of message that might be on the booth itself? Why was the phone missing? More important was probably the question of who took the damn phone out. John quickly checked his surroundings through his dusty, tinted windows. There were only two other vehicles present in the small lot with him, one a green sedan and the other an old beaten down pick-up truck. There were two small gas pumps, and a garage area that had surely seen better days. Damn, could someone have known that he was coming here somehow? Could someone be watching him right now? Well, theoretically this place was a piece of shit and could of lost a phone somewhere along the way; John had never been here before. Maybe he was just being paranoid.

  Suddenly, through the passenger side window, John saw a shadow cross by in the old garage, and he began to have an uneasy feeling. As he went to bring his engine back to life, a thunderous bang came to his driver’s side door. John instinctively grasped his gun from its side holster as he turned simultaneously toward the window. An old grey-haired man with dark, beady eyes starred deeply into John’s darkened windows.

  “Fill up?” The old man hollered out.

  John put his gun carefully down in the console’s tray beside him. For a split-second he considered rolling his window down to decline the man’s offer, but his paranoia had gotten the best of him. He revved the engine just a bit as a warning for the man to back off; then took off back down the dirt road, away from the station.

  John’s mind was racing. What the hell just happened? He checked his rearview mirror, not many cars out on these back roads. He then returned his gun to its temporary housing unit as he tried to calm his nerves. Should he try to make it to the next phone on this damned list of Devin’s? He kept them memorized, the locations. Hell, from where he was now he’d have to drive another hour and half at least to get this phone call made. He didn’t even know if it would be breaking Devin’s protocol or whatever, trying a second phone line in the same day. Well, if he was being followed, it might not be smart, but he needed some answers.

  “Shit!” John about jumped out of his seat when his phone started to vibrate. He thought he had turned it off. Checking the number, he figured he should answer it.

  “Hey Alex.”

  “John hun, how are you?” Alex hummed into the phone.

  “Great Alex, just ah, kind of busy. How are you guys today?”

  “Well, you know, out here doing detective work with your brother, it’s hard coming home to him sometimes after I’ve been stuck working with him all day, hah. Oh, he says hi. He’s driving so he wanted me to call you, wanted to know if you want to grab some lunch with us later, seeing as how you have mysteriously taken the day off.”

  “I’ll um, I’ll have to get back to you on that. I’ve got some errands to run and stuff.”

  “You going grocery shopping for Caroline, John?”

  “Uh, no.”

  “Okay, give us a call back. Oh wait a minute. ‘What James?’ Jeeze, John, your asshole brother here insists on me telling you that he wants you to pick up his dry cleaning for him.”

  “Well, you can tell that piece of shit that I don’t think that he’d like the condition it might arrive to him in. I’ll check in with you guys later.”

  “Alright, bye hun,” Alex laughed.

  Great, another item to attempt to accommodate on the day’s agenda, lunch; that one would definitely be taking a backseat to the current dilemma however. John needed to decide what to do about contacting Devin. He decided he couldn’t just wait around and began the scenic route back to the highway, hoping his line wasn’t being permanently cut.

  Well, at least this place wasn’t quite as creepy as the old man’s garage. John quietly stepped out into the parking lot of the small cabin-style café. He approached the phone booth which thankfully had its telephone present and in good working order. Taking a deep breath, John made his call. With each ring, he could feel his blood pressure rising, and Devin’s voice actually startled him when it first came through the line.

  “John. I ah, can’t talk long right now, so I just need you to listen.”

  “Devin, I need to know more about what’s going…”

  “Dammit John, now’s not the time. Meet me at the old Murphy Bridge Monday night 11:37 sharp. If ah, if something happens and I don’t show, I want you to wait forty-eight hours, make another call. You’ll need to use the secondary number and the emergency codes I gave you before. Do you understand?”

  “Shit, alright, alright. Look, I couldn’t call….” John felt a chill as the phone went dead before he could even notify Devin at least about the missing telephone. He wondered if that bit of information might have given Devin a better chance of living long enough to show up at the damn bridge Monday. Looking around, John felt as if there were imaginary walls closing in on him, choking his mind’s thoughts, making his subconscious scramble for air that was quickly receding.

  By the time John got back to town it was lunch time, but he didn’t have much of an appetite and was just ready to head home. He picked up his phone, cancelled his lunch date and went home to have a nice, long drink.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The room was eerily dark and John’s eyes fixated on the scant light penetrating slightly into the floorboard under his bedroom door. His breath echoed loudly into the ears he had raised to attention. He felt like over time his ears had learned to play tricks on him, creating their own spectrum of imagination. They seemed to come alive and pass in and out of reality. He closed his eyes and focused hard on the air around him. His heartbeat ran a rhythm of fear throughout his body. He feared a presence emerging sometime in the night’s realm, one he did not wish to be trapped by.

  John and his brother James did have an escape route however from this presence by way of their bedroom window. John slowly followed the path in his mind once again that stretched from their bunk bed to the escape window below. James usually stayed on alert as well, but John knew that James was his responsibility. James was the most important person in John’s life. Though they were five years apart, they were best friends, and even though they were both children, John served the duties of a father-figure to his younger brother. He and he alone it seemed was responsible for taking care of James’ basic needs, and showing him life’s survival skills, as he saw them anyway. Right now, John’s concerns for himself and his brother focused on tonight. He had begun to get himself more and more worked up in thought, and tried to slow his mind to calm himself. Maybe it would be different this time. Maybe the night, he hoped, would simply fade to the cover of the daylight hours.

  Too quickly John discovered that his mental request would be denied as his thoughts were interrupted by the sound of James’ gasp, which lit the room like a match. Light flooded the room as John’s eyes arose to touch the changed air around him, and footsteps forced themselves into his view.

  The first thing John caught sight of as he blinked into the light was a woman. Her long brown, matted hair flowed down her back, and her heavy eyes showed the years that had already been taken from her. Her face seemed coarse and aged and her mind dazed as she entered with the contrasting light now filling the room. Attached to her arm was that of a tall, thin man with a scraggly beard and tattered clothing. His hat hid his eyes, but to John they glowed red, always red. The man brought an even darker presence into the room, far outreaching the grey contrast of the woman. He seemed to choke the light from the room as he moved across it. John felt evil try to cut straight through him as the man’s entrance was made. he watched the man, his father; throw first his hat into the room, and then John’s mother into the head of the bunk bed.

&n
bsp; “You boys see this bitch? She’s the reason for our troubles. In my living room, shooting up shit. She takes all of my money, tries to steal all my joose. Well, let me tell you what she deserves. I should have dragged this whore down to the streets she belongs on a long time ago…”

  John couldn’t listen anymore. He soon found himself by his mother’s side; he wasn’t even sure how he had gotten there. He could see into the mirror of freedom that was the window. What he saw was himself, a young kid in camouflage PJ’s, but past that he saw reflected to him his life’s responsibilities, and the sinister stage a man could create when his world enveloped and dominated those around him at his will. John could only play the part he felt was right, protecting James, and if possible his mother. With James taking refuge away from center stage on this night, John stepped forward to protect his mother as she lie defenseless on the floor. He heard the drunk, threatening voice of his father come closer and closer, though he did not hear all of his words. He could smell his breath however, as his father swung hard at this child defending his mother. John then felt his head hit hard against the bedroom wall, not too far from that window of hope.

  John jolted awake, sweat pouring from his face. “Shit!” was the first comforting word he found in the darkness. Caroline rose to attention to comfort her husband. She patted his back and laid his head upon her chest as they sat up in the bed together. He leaned up closer against her trying to calm himself. His eyes filled with tears, though he was able to hold them back. He could sense the evil still in the room and feared to stray too far from his wife, worried he might find it. He did not want to catch another glimpse of it staring back at him.

  “Another bad dream baby?” Caroline gently questioned as she began to rub her fingers through his hair.

  “No,” John answered her. “Another bad memory.”

  John popped two aspirin down then looked down at his watch. It was Sunday afternoon and he wasn’t even sure when Friday had ended. He had spent most of the weekend watching football, but it was mostly a blur. Last night was pretty rough, he remembered that much, having another one of his damned nightmares again. He didn’t even want to think about it. Caroline was good at calming him down from those, and she usually didn’t push him too hard about sharing the shitty things. He could tell she was hovering just a bit though, and they would need to discuss their anniversary plans soon. Just in case she was thinking that was her way into the “are you sure you’re okay” line of questioning, he started to prepare an “internal” memo for that famous women’s interrogation method. He was soon interrupted however by a knock on the door. Hmm, Caroline and Christopher weren’t due back from the store for a while. John slowly approached the door and peeked out, an unannounced visitor, or two. He reluctantly opened the door, not being in the mood for company.

  “Hey man, how’s it going?” James asked, as he seemed to invite himself in.

  “Alright, I guess,” John said. “Hey Alex.”

  “Hi John, we missed you for lunch the other day, so James wanted to just come by…sorry, are you busy?” Alex asked John apologetically.

  “Nah, just watching a game, come on in,” John smiled politely. He liked Alex. They had become friends in the last couple of years since she transferred in becoming James’ new partner at work and well soon thereafter at play as well. She was good for James, and John appreciated what she had done for his little brother. She had worked her way into James’ heart somehow while most women had only worked their way into his brother’s bed.

  The three walked down into John’s basement, where the big screen was blaring halftime scores and stats, catching fans up on the games and their fantasy players. “You guys want something to drink?” John hollered out as he made his way to the wet bar and popped open another beer.

  “Sure, Alex is driving,” James quickly called back as he sunk into one of the old comfy leather couches.

  “Oh am I? Shouldn’t there be a word for calling out who’s stuck behind the designated driver wheel, James? Like shotgun or something?”

  “No, its woman’s work, like baking pies and shit,” James laughed.

  “What? I don’t bake you any damn pies.”

  “Exactly, so you need to make up for that shortcoming anyway,” James threw back playfully.

  “Hey, don’t look at me,” John said throwing his hands up as Alex looked his way. “I don’t have that problem; Caroline doesn’t drink very much, heh.”

  “Whatever, John why don’t you just get me a soda then. I’ll deal with your brother later. So, do you know if Chris wanted to do anything special while he’s with us?”

  “Yeah as a matter of fact, I think he wanted his uncle James to take him to Tyler’s Steakhouse; his mama told him it’s the best food in town.”

  “Damn, John, that’s some expensive stuff,” James called back.

  “its uncle’s work,” John popped off with a smile.

  “Hah, I don’t know about that, but anyway John I, I didn’t want to have to be the one to break it to you, but there’s a nasty rumor flying around at work that you actually got suspended from school on Friday after a visit to the principal’s office. Did you get grounded from the bedroom for that?” James smirked.

  “Nah, I didn’t see a need to stir anything up. Just told her I needed to get some shit done, so keep your mouth shut.”

  “Ouch, you know John they say honesty is the best policy, especially in that married life you insisted upon. Sadly, I think I smell pizza in the air for your boy, not that fine steak. I guess that can be your punishment, Bro.”

  “James, leave him alone. I’ll take Christopher out for steak, geeze,” Alex protested.

  “Well, I just hope that you can live with your conscience on that Alex,” James teased sarcastically as he shook his head.

  John sat down and rolled his eyes as he smiled quietly at Alex. The three of them then watched the second half of John’s game before his guests departed, and John was left to his internal conflicts once more.

  The wind whistled past John’s ears as he turned to see Christopher’s bike fly through the rusted leaves that now blanketed the dying grass. The crackling sound warmed the thoughts of a glowing fireplace after the night’s fall. Sunday was coming to a close, and was now surrounded by deep skies of grey. John gently smiled while feeling the warmth of Caroline’s touch as she leaned her body in towards him. His arm penetrated the oncoming breeze as he came to rest his hand firmly around her hip. Her grey scarf tickled his face, and he pulled her in closer to shield her from the next round of forced vibrations in the cold air.

  She was his safe place, his rock, and he needed her tenderness now more than ever. As they walked together, Caroline’s dark wool jacket seemed to flow seamlessly into John’s heavy black coat, and together they soon shadowed the dying day. Heading through the backyard, the house seemed at first a welcomed friend to John’s tired eyes and troubled mind. He watched as Christopher opened the back door. The glass shuttered in the wind, and John caught a glimpse of himself, and his family just as the lightning struck and the house went dark. As his reflection went blank John’s nightmare from the night before blinked quickly through his mind. He looked ahead and saw Christopher duck for cover and Caroline quickly follow their son inside. Thunder struck the back porch, and John’s anxiety rose as the darkened sky finally released its cold, hard autumn rain.

  The hot shower and now warm fire did seem to be helping to a certain extent, however John’s half empty glass of whiskey seemed to be continuing to deteriorate. As he downed his drink, he reached for the bottle again only to find it half empty. John scoffed at the emotional returns one gets from a world of bullshit symbolism. He peered into the lighted flicker of flames across from him. He just couldn’t relax, being worried about the cases and the feds even more now that Devin had sounded so uneasy over the phone before. Unfortunately, he had to wait till Monday to meet with Devin and get more out of him. Shit, discouraged, he took another drink.

  “Here�
�s your shirt baby,” Caroline called out. “Although I do admit I like you in those flannel boxers. Black is your color,” she whispered.

  John, lost in thought, heard none of these words of compliment, so Caroline decided to take a more direct approach. She came up behind her husband and playfully spanked him on the ass while giving him a reprimand.

  “Don’t ignore me or I’ll send you to bed without dessert.”

  John smiled, realizing she was wanting his attention. He quickly grabbed her and forced her toward him. He turned her over his knee as she giggled out loud. He then gave her a good spanking in the name of equality and then gently let her up as he rose to kiss her with his playful lips. She smiled as she felt what else had risen to her performance as he pulled her toward him. Their eyes met, and though she had seen his in a questionable gaze throughout the day, she was glad he could take the time now to relax from the day’s stresses with her. John’s shirt soon fell gently to the floor, being released from Caroline’s grasp. She stared at the hungry desire of her husband, which of course she had enticed. She smiled quietly as she took him in inch by inch, this beautiful man she loved. Soon her fingers gently spread across his stomach and began caressing the underside of the soft, black fabric that seemed to plead with ever increasing desire its longing to slide silently away. John, giving into her tease, led Caroline quickly over to the calling bed, which lie close to the flickering fireplace of their bedroom suite. As he gently laid her down upon the warm, soft sheets, the day’s stresses gave way to the night’s pleasures, and John’s safety net lie cradled securely beneath him.