Theme-Thology: Invasion

by Inc. HDWP

  Helena’s hand shook as she reached for the mug to finish her chai. Instead of drinking, she spilled the remnants onto her sweatpants. She sighed and placed the mug down with a clunk before searching for a napkin.

  “I really am losing it,” she said out loud as she dabbed at the spill. “Nobody would believe I’m such a slob. If anyone saw me looking like this or talking to myself, they’d definitely question my sanity.”

  “You’re not sane. You’re nothing,” a Voice said.

  “You know that,” said a chorus of mixed Voices.

  “And you’re alone because nobody wants to be with you, do they? Where is your husband? Where are your kids? You are nothing.”

  “Shut up!” Helena grabbed her mug and threw it against the stone fireplace. It shattered. “You don’t know me. You aren’t real. I’m something, and people care about me. The kids are at college where they need to be. Mark will be here soon.”

  “Are you sure? Why isn’t he here yet? Do you really think he couldn’t change his meetings? Do you think he’s rushing to get here? Perhaps he’s with his mistress. He has one, you know, to fill those lonely hours when you are too busy working, networking, and spending time with everybody but him.”

  Each word felt like a nail pushing deeper into her head. Helena grabbed her ears and crumpled to her knees. “Stop it!”

  “He wants you to give up this fight and quit. He wants you to come back and be his wife, not some public figure who will never accomplish anything anyway, because you are NOTHING. He wants you to give up. Give up. Give up!”

  “No! He wants me to pursue this. This was his idea! He convinced me that it was something worth trying. Mark believes in the need for change as much as I do. He believes in me. He would never cheat on me. He never has and he never would.”

  “Believe what you want. We know better. Remember that time before your children started college, when you and Mark had a difficult period? He cheated on you then. He’s cheating on you now.” The Voices repeated the phrases, “He’s cheating. Give up. You are Nothing!” in a rising chorus of sound.

  Helena cowered on the floor, rocking back and forth with her hands over her ears in an attempt to block out the deafening noise.

  A car pulled up to the cabin and honked, silencing the chorus. One voice spoke before the visitor reached the front door. “If you give up, you’ll find peace, and Mark will love you again. We’ll let you go. We won’t need to remind you that you are nothing. We will leave you alone in the arms of your husband. Quit! Now!”

  The door to the cabin opened. “Honey, I finally made it,” Mark called.

  Helena stood on shaky legs and wiped at her face before she turned to welcome her husband with a hug and kiss. At least, she thought, he didn’t see me get up; he didn;t know I’d been on the floor.

  “What’s going on, Helena?” Mark dropped the bags he carried and opened his arms to her. “Why are you crying? I got here as soon as I could.”

  “It’s them. They’re here. Your arrival silenced them.”

  “Sit down on the couch. I’m going to make you something warm to drink and we’re going to talk. What would you like? Coffee, chai, regular tea? I picked up that coffee cake you love, as a special treat.”

  “I . . . I don’t know. I can’t think.”

  “I’ll take care of it,” Mark said with a worried look that Helena could tell he tried to hide. “Let’s get you comfortable first.”

  He helped her over to the couch, and covered her with the quilt made by her grandmother. She pulled it up around her and thought of the words her grandmother always said to the young Helena, “You can be anything you want to be, Helena. You’re smart, and good, and kind. If you want to be President you will be someday.”

  Helena watched as Mark put water on for tea and placed slices of coffee cake on one of her favorite hand-made plates. He brought the cake over just as the kettle whistled for attention. The sound made Helena cringe. It was too similar to one of the Voices.

  “It’s all right, Helena,” Mark placed a calming hand on her shoulder. “It’s just the kettle.”

  He got them both mugs of steaming tea and joined her on the couch. “Now tell me. What did the Voices say? What’s happened since you came up here?”

  She took the mug but didn’t drink. She wanted the warmth to seep into bones grown cold from worry and fear.

  “I’m not sure . . . you’re not going to like this.”

  “I don’t like any of this, but we need to be able to talk about it if we’re going to figure this out. I’m here to help you, you know that.”

  With hesitant words Helena told him of the waking nightmare that morning, and of the accusations the Voices made about his fidelity.

  Mark’s face darkened as she spoke.

  “Why are you looking at me like that Mark? You know I hate that look. You told me to tell you everything.”

  Mark stood and began to pace. “When have I ever given you reason to distrust me? What have I ever done to make you suspect that I’ve been unfaithful?” He turned to her with anger flashing from his eyes. “I thought we had moved beyond that time before the kids went to college—a time where we both made mistakes because of money worries, job worries, and your crazy family. There was no infidelity, at least not on my part!”

  “I know that, Mark. I don’t think you cheated, it’s the Voices—”

  “Voices which are coming from inside your head! Deep down inside you must not trust me. You must believe I’m capable of cheating, when all I’ve ever done is give you love and support.”

  “I know. I’ve never thought that of you. It’s the Voices.”

  “I don’t understand, Helena. The Voices are inside of you. They must represent your thoughts, your beliefs.”

  “But that’s just it. I don’t know how to explain it. This doesn’t feel like it’s coming from inside of me. I mean, at first I thought it was just those voices that always make me doubt, but these are different. It’s like someone else is invading my mind.”

  “You’re asking me to believe that some random Voices that are completely disconnected to your subconscious are feeding you lies about me. I thought that these so-called voices were simply your usual doubts about yourself and your abilities. I was prepared to give you the pep talk of your life while we were up here. Now you’re sitting here and accusing me of cheating on you, because something inside your head has told you that . . I . . . I don’t even know how to respond . . . maybe I should just leave.” He turned as if to pick up the keys he had left on the kitchen island.

  “No, Mark! Please, I have to show you something.” Helena leaped up and grabbed her journal. She flipped through pages in a desperate search for the entry about her first waking nightmare. It happened when she got home early from a three-day business trip and walked into her bedroom to see a beautiful nude blond woman lying on top of her husband in a passionate embrace. For a moment the shock of the vision had overcome her. She was struck speechless; torn between the desire to scream and cry. She was just about to speak when the vision melted away, and what remained was Mark, lying in bed alone, sound asleep. At that point she heard a Voice say, “This has happened.”

  Mark sat on the couch and read the entry before flipping through the thick journal. “What is this?”

  “I’ve been keeping tabs of every incident. Every nightmare. Every time I hear them speak out loud. Every waking dream.”

  “When did this one happen?” Mark asked.

  “Remember when I had that series of meetings out of town and you got sick? I came home early to take care of you. You had taken flu medicine that knocked you out. I found you in bed sound asleep at 6pm.”

  “You crawled into bed with me and woke me up. You asked me to hold you.”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “Then you started crying and when I asked you what was wrong, you said—”

  “I said that I was exhausted,” Helena sat on the couch but left space between her and Mark. “I said I ha
d been really worried about how sick you sounded, and that I was relieved to find you sleeping it off.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me about the vision then?”

  “How could I? You were groggy on medication, had been sick for days, and I didn’t even know what had happened.”

  “You’ve had more of these visions ever since, including the incident today?”

  “Yes . . . they’re all in the journal.”

  “How is that possible?” Mark asked.

  “I don’t know.” Helena reached out to touch Mark, and flinched as he moved away from her touch. “You have to believe me. I have never doubted your love or support for me. I have never cheated on you. I know you’ve never cheated on me. I’ve never questioned your love. Please, Mark . . .” She moved her hand again to touch his arm.

  He didn’t pull away, but stared at her fingers as if they were foreign objects. She withdrew and moved further away on the couch. She grabbed the quilt and hugged it.

  “I want to help you, Helena, but I don’t know how. What are we going to do?”

  “Maybe if you look through this with me, you can help me see something I’ve missed. Maybe together we can understand what’s happening.”

  Mark flipped through a few pages of the journal before he moved closer, grabbed Helena’s hand, and brought it to his mouth for a kiss.

  “We’ve defeated other challenges together, we can defeat this one.”

  Helena felt tears of relief slide down her cheek. “With you by my side, I’ll be okay.”

  They spent the next few hours scouring her journal for clues. The Voices remained silent. Even though they hadn’t come up with any answers, Helena felt much better after sharing all the details with Mark. Some of the strain came from keeping things secret, she realized.

  The shadows began to grow in the cabin. Mark stood and stretched before he moved to turn on some lights and start a fire. He picked up the broken mug pieces with a worried glance toward Helena.

  “You broke your favorite mug,” he said.

  “Another thing to blame on the Voices,” Helena walked over and took the pieces from him. “They’ve taken a lot from me.” She placed the broken pieces on the mantle.

  “Why don’t we throw them away?” Mark asked.

  “When we solve this problem, I’ll replace them with a new mug,” Helena said. “It will be our own little award.”

  Mark smiled and gave her a kiss on the cheek before his stomach groaned audibly. He laughed. “Coffee cake and tea aren’t going to cut it. I think we should take a break and I’ll get some food going. What do we have?”

  “Um . . .” Helena felt her cheeks flush. She knew Mark hated it when she neglected the basics like eating. “There’s some yogurt and a little bread and cheese. Some fruit—”

  “Helena, I thought you stopped for supplies on the way up.”

  “I did, I got chai and yogurt and bread—”

  The sound of a bird argument outside the window interrupted her list. “Let me guess,” Mark said with a smile, “you picked up bird food, but nothing to really sustain you.” He gave Helena a kiss on the forehead. “I should have known and come prepared. I’ll have to take a drive down to town for supplies. I need some meat. Maybe I’ll pick up something from the restaurant and bring it back, unless you want to come with me?”

  “I don’t want to see people right now. I don’t want anyone to know I’m up here.”

  “Do you think you’ll be all right for an hour or so?”

  “I feel so much better just telling you everything. I’ll be fine.”

  Mark gave her a hug and a kiss. “I love you. We’re going to fix this.” With that he grabbed the car keys and left.

  Helena moved over to the window to watch as the sun continued its descent. A few birds came to squabble over the remainder of the food. She went outside to refill the feeders and breathed in the smells of the evening mountains--pine and other scents not as easily identifiable. She felt the tension leaving her body. Sharing everything with Mark made her feel so much better. She almost believed that the Voices were gone. I feel like I could take a nap without a single dream, she thought.

  She made her way inside and grabbed a pillow from the bedroom. She brought it back to the couch and lay down, pulling her grandmother’s quilt over her. She stared at the fire; searching for pictures in the flames until she fell asleep . . .

  Mark sat on a cushioned chair in the lobby of their favorite restaurant in the town down the mountain. Helena always found the dark brown wood and country décor warm and welcoming. She could hear the murmur of diners and the tinkle of dinnerware around the corner. The voices sounded like birds conversing around the feeder. Quiet music played in the background. Helena felt relaxed and excited to be having a date with her wonderful husband, who wore jeans and her favorite plaid shirt. “You look so handsome, Mark,” Helena said.

  He didn’t reply. He didn’t even look at her. He had his computer out and was doing work while he waited.

  “I wish you would take a break,” she said. “There’s no reason to work on date night. How long until we’re seated?”

  Mark still didn’t answer. Helena reached out a hand to touch his arm when someone else touched hers instead. She recognized the hand, as she had loved every line on the aged and fragile hands of her grandmother—hands that had given her comfort and praise for so many years.

  She turned toward the woman. Grandma’s sweet smile and loving eyes beamed at Helena.

  “Grandma, what are you doing here? This is impossible.”

  “I’ve come back because you've forgotten my lessons, dear. Listen to your dreams.”

  “But the dreams want me to quit.”

  “Listen to your dreams. Listen to your dreams,” her grandmother began to speak with the voice of many, the Voices of her nightmares.

  Helena watched in horror as her grandmother’s loving face melted into a terrifying mask of death. A flock of evil-looking birds flew from the dining area, filling the air with raucous cries. These weren’t the sweet and colorful birds that visited her feeder, but crows, blackbirds, and mysterious smoke-gray birds with glowing red eyes. Their obstreperous calls soon morphed into spoken words.

  “You’re not here,” the Voices said.

  “I know that,” Helena said. “This is a dream.”

  “Not quite,” the Voices answered. “Watch and learn.”

  The birds disappeared, and Helena felt a sudden shift of her perspective. The scene became confused, as if she was simultaneously watching the events from above while experiencing them through Mark’s own mind. She could see the letter he was working on as if it was in front of her, and feel his hands--her hands--moving on the keyboard. She could sense his thoughts as he typed.

  “Your wife is insane!” the Voices said. Helena heard the words in her own head, in her husband’s head, and in the air around her.

  Mark stopped typing. “Excuse me, did you say something?” he asked the hostess who stood near the entrance.

  “No, sir. But your order should be ready soon. I’ll just check with the kitchen.”

  The hostess moved away. Mark returned to his work.

  “Your wife is insane!”

  Mark shook his head and tried to focus on his writing. “You know this, but there’s more. It’s contagious. You have it now too. We are in your head! We will stay here until she quits!”

  “No!” Helena and Mark spoke at the same time.

  At that moment the hostess returned, “I’m sorry sir, is there a problem?”

  “No, I’m sorry,” Mark closed his computer. “I . . . um . . . I sometimes talk to myself when I’m focused on my work.”

  The hostess gave a polite laugh. “I do that when I read my e-mails. Here’s your order. I hope you enjoy your meal.”

  “We'll never let you enjoy another meal,” the Voices said. “But at least you won’t be lonely on the drive back. We’ll be with you.”

  Helena felt and saw the blood drain
from Mark’s face.

  Then she woke up.

  She sat up and clutched the quilt. “It was just a dream. It was just a dream. It was just a dream,” she hoped the repetition would convince her of the truth of the words.

  “No it wasn’t!” the Voices filled the air and her head with their echoing menace. “You wouldn’t quit, so now we’ve spread and infected someone close to you. He’s the first. Next we’ll infect your children. They will all hear us until the world realizes that you and your family are nothing but very sick people who tried to hide their insanity behind an ill-conceived notion that they could make a difference. You are nothing!”

  “Leave my family alone!” Helena shouted. “Why are you doing this? What do you want from me?”

  “You know what we want,” the Voices said. “Give up this fight. Listen to your Grandmother. Listen to your dreams. You must quit. If you quit, we won’t touch your children. If you quit, we will leave your husband alone. You must decide quickly, as we’re still with him and can’t be responsible for his safety. Watch!”

  Helena was plunged into a vision of Mark in the car, speeding up the curvy and darkening mountain roads. “Leave my family alone! You’re not here!” he yelled as his foot pushed down on the gas pedal.

  “We’re here! You know we’re here!” the Voices filled the car. “We’ll stay until your wife quits. We’ll infect you and your children. We ARE HERE!” Mark swerved to avoid a creature that crossed in front of him. He slammed on the brakes. Helena saw his eyes fill with tears.

  “I’m sorry, Helena,” he said in a hoarse voice. “I didn’t believe you, but now I know it’s true.”

  “Leave him alone!” Helena yelled, pulling herself out of this waking vision.

  “We will . . . If you quit. All you have to do is quit.”