I Have Demons
Page 12
By the time David finally looked up, Franco had removed his shirt and pants and was facing the river, with a determined pose and expression.
“Franco? What the hell are you doing?”
Franco looked back at David with a fierce stare. He seemed hell-bent, angry and hurt.
“What’s going on? Are you okay?” David was confused and concerned — but not enough to walk up to Franco and stop him as he walked slowly into the river.
“You know, if you don’t answer me, I could just walk away with all your stuff. Money, cards, clothing. Everything.” David had hoped that this would be sufficient to get Franco’s attention. But picking up his wallet, he saw that it was empty, except for a five-dollar bill, a credit card that had expired two years prior, the business card of a psychic and a receipt from a Chinese restaurant. By the time David looked up, Franco had walked five metres from the bank into the river.
“Franco? Franco!”
The water rippled and bubbled as Franco dunk his head in.
He had walked so far out into the river that the water eventually came up to his neck. He seemed little more than a fading, nameless blob in the distance. David couldn’t tell if Franco was swimming or just floating, passively allowing the water to carry him further out, whichever way. A sound that resembled the heavily amplified ding of a microwave startled David. He noticed that Franco’s cellphone had lit up with a message from his wife, Lina.
“Franco, what the hell? Where are you? The bank has been calling non-stop. We need to talk, now!”
The phone felt sticky, and David noticed that the screen was badly cracked. He paced back and forth from his tent to the water for a full minute before responding. He felt troubled and excited all at once. But after brief deliberation, he realized that finally, his time had come.
“My dearest Lina, I have decided to go for an evening dip. I am presently swimming with the current — he has proven to be a surprisingly sweet friend and of fine temper. I anticipate an on-time arrival to my destination, just prior to sundown. Do go ahead and dine without me tonight. I shall either feast on a canopy of soft seaweed on the ocean floor or, God willing, on a nocturnal banquet fit for a king. I am told that the siren Gabriella, the high cherub of the sea, shall keep me company tonight. My good chap the current, though allegedly a heathen, promises to assist with the repartee. Oh heavens, I am afraid I must be off now, my darling! The current is becoming testy. Please give my love to the cat. F.R.”
David felt so much better. Had he found his calling? But the dream world he had concocted — in high diction, no less — came crashing down to reality when Bob the radio announcer, in his congenial valley accent, took to the air.
“Oh, what a ride it’s been folks! Not for the faint of heart; but as you know, we’re all about the straight talk. No sugar-coating, just good old-fashioned honesty. We need more of that in this world of ours. Now then ... it’s going to be a steamy night. Crack open that window or turn on the AC. Good night, tomorrow’s comin’.”
About the Author
Christopher Adam was born in Montreal but spent his formative years during the nineties in Budapest, Hungary. Upon returning to Canada, he completed his undergraduate studies in history and English literature at Concordia University, before continuing with graduate studies at Carleton and completing a PhD in history at the University of Ottawa. He launched and continues to edit two award-winning online publications offering analysis and commentary on current affairs in Europe.
Over the last fifteen years, Ottawa has become home. By day Christopher works in the non-governmental organization sector. By night he teaches and writes — and somewhere in between, he travels as much as possible.