Twisted Family Holidays Collection

by JR Wirth

  I can’t stay awake forever, Johnson thought. This is crazy. How can she be in one reality and not the other? He shook his head and scouted the area for answers―or for something of use to help make sense of it all. His search ended at the alarm clock to the right. Good idea, he thought, I’ll set the alarm to wake me up at rotating intervals. The last will be an even-numbered interval, which should keep me in the same realm as Mary. I’d better use the cell phone though, he reconsidered. Then I can put in unlimited alarms. Four might be best.

  Johnson then noticed his laptop was open and engaged. He decided to continue his search of the paranormal. He began by expanding his search to include the occult. Under the search heading, Unexplained Travel and Dreams, Johnson found a listing for Mysterious Journeys: Spells, Incantations, and Potions for Travel Through Time and Space. “That’s it!” he exclaimed, ecstatic. “There has to be something there.”

  Johnson followed the link to a site that catered to the occult and magical arts. In the discussion of the book, it told of two specific potions, when used in specific spells, caused people to travel in their dreams. They could live in the alternate worlds for unlimited amounts of time, depending on which spell was used, the will of the intended person, and who cast the spell, as well as the reason for casting the spell.

  Without hesitation, Johnson ordered the book and paid a hefty price to have it sent next-day delivery. As he pushed the send button, Johnson got an email from the supplier who was supposed to deliver a load of meat. The message indicated that there was a delay and that the order would be filled as soon as possible, but probably not until the Monday after Easter.

  Perfect. Johnson smiled at the laptop and then at Mary, who covered his bed with a soft sheet of beauty, unlike any before. He decided to join Mary in an afternoon nap. Johnson set two alarms: -one for a half-hour, and the second for forty-five minutes. The first would wake him, but he’d quickly fall back to sleep and then, shortly thereafter, the second alarm would send him back to the perfect world with Mary in it.

  Feeling content, and with the confidence that he had found the answers to keep his life with Mary, Johnson laid the laptop down and proceeded to curl up next to her, enveloping her body with his.

  Mary moaned. “About time.”

  ****

  Johnson woke to the sound of the first alarm. He didn’t want to see what might await him, and kept his eyes focused on the cell phone while he muted the first alarm. He then lay back down, deliberately keeping his body turned away from where Mary had been in his bed.

  Perfect, he thought. Now go back to sleep. The perfect plan had one fatal flaw. Johnson was unable to fall back asleep. His tickertape of endless streams of thought kept his mind in hyper-drive. Johnson knew he needed to get back to sleep, but didn’t know how long it might take. Still turned away from Mary’s spot on the bed, he lifted the phone and adjusted the alarm, moving it forward, giving himself ample time to fall back asleep. As he lay in turmoil, Johnson decided that he would have to take sleep-aids at night to help him in to get back to sleep. A lesson learned.

  When Johnson awoke the second time, he reached for Mary. She was, once again, not in his bed. Panic infused his veins, causing him to yell, “No!” He jumped out of bed and ran to the bedroom window. It’s still cloudy, he thought. Puzzlement infused his brain synapses, while panic overwhelmed his nerve-endings. There’s lots of snow on the ground too. His panic continued to rise. That means that she is lost forever! Johnson leaned his arm against the windowsill, and then his forehead against his arm. Nearly in tears, he jumped at the soft hands that caressed his back.

  “You seem quite tense there, baby,” Mary whispered. “Come lay down and I’ll rub your back.”

  Johnson turned and, teary-eyed, caressed her face. “I thought you left. I thought I lost you!” A tear ran down his cheek.

  Moved by Johnson’s display of raw emotion, Mary placed her right hand on his face and caressed his brow, cheek and chin. Then she smiled a tender, empathetic smile, while she wiped away the two tears that escaped his lids. “Now why would I leave you, my handsome man?”

  Johnson shrugged,

  “I did get some of your delicious coffee, though. I hope you don’t mind.” Mary smiled again. She grabbed Johnson’s hand, and gently escorted him back to the bed. “I also absconded one of your shirts. I hope you don’t mind that either.”

  Johnson looked at Mary in his powder blue shirt, admiring the way the side cutouts highlighted her full, sexy legs. He smiled. “It looks better on you than on me, any day.” He snickered. “And way, way sexier too.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Hanna, Jimmy, Charlie and Charlie’s friend Harold, waited just outside the Diamond Tree Hotel restaurant, waiting to be seated. They watched the busy businessmen, scurrying to get home in time for Easter, along with the leisurely vacationers taking in the scenes. Also in the mix, was a host of spring-breakers with some families included, rushing to enjoy the warmth of the indoor pool. Some of the college-age-youth yelled out their displeasure of not being in a warm exotic paradise.

  “I wanted to wait until tomorrow to give you the ring,” Jimmy said, with a shake of his head. “But I just couldn’t wait. I had to know the answer. It was killing me.”

  Charlie, who sat opposite Jimmy, on Hanna’s left, leaned forward. “Why would you wait until tomorrow?” she asked.

  Jimmy leaned forward as well. “Tomorrow is Easter Sunday,” he replied.

  Charlie shook her head. “And?”

  “It will be our one year anniversary. That’s when we met.”

  “Oh, I see.” Charlie grabbed Hanna’s hand and gave a shake. “Well, I like that you gave her the ring already. It gives us a reason to celebrate.”

  Hanna looked at the ring and smiled. “Yes it does,” she said. “Yes, it does.”

  Harold sat on the end of the bench seat, just past Charlie. Deep into a lengthy reply during a text conversation, he leaned forward and asked, “How did you two meet?”

  Charlie grabbed hold of Harold’s phone and slid it out of his hands. “Do you really need to text right now? I haven’t seen you in how long, and all you want to do is text.” Charlie looked at the face of the phone and smiled as she powered it off. “There, now I don’t have to see the back of your phone more than your eyes.” She directed her smile at Harold. “You have such pretty eyes; I like to see them as often as I can.”

  Harold returned the smile. “If you weren’t so damn cute, I’d be very offended that you cut off my lifeline.”

  Charlie cleared her throat and sat upright, adjusting her sore buttocks in the process, then held up her hands. In her right hand she held the phone and showed it to Harold. “This is your lifeline, and you can have it back if you wish.” She then used her free hand to fan herself. “And this is your love-line, which you can have if you wish.” Charlie formed a mischievous smile and rolled her eyes. “But, my dear friend, Harold, you can’t have both.”

  Harold’s eyes opened wide. “You can keep the phone,” he spoke in a rush, then leaned to his right and gave Charlie a quick kiss, before leaning forward again. Addressing Hanna and Jimmy, Harold repeated the question, “So, how did you two meet?”

  “It’s kind of a funny story,” Hanna began.

  “And sweet,” Jimmy quickly added. He took her hand and drew it close to his lips. “Very sweet,” he continued with a wink, smile and kiss to the back of Hanna’s hand.

  Hanna smiled. “Yes, it was sweet too. Just like you.” She glanced into his eyes, admiring the twinkle of his soft gaze.

  Charlie cleared her throat. “I love the affection guys, but the story, please.”

  “I got you.” Hanna blinked. “Last Easter, my dad and I got into an argument about the restaurant and he ran out of the store. When I went looking for him at the Easter celebration, I wa
sn’t paying attention—and presto—Jimmy and I bumped into each other. I knocked a coffee out of his hands and all over his shirt.”

  “Oh that is sweet,” Harold said, sarcastically.

  Charlie slapped him on the arm. “Let them finish, will you?”

  “Okay, okay.”

  Hanna smiled at Jimmy again. “As it turned out, there was some fresh coffee at the store, so I offered up a new cup, and then offered to wash his shirt for him.”

  “And she said, ‘I’m so sorry, let me help you.’ Now how could I resist that?” Jimmy asked. “So we went back to the shop and, as it turned out, they needed a person who knew his way around a kitchen, and particularly when it comes to coffee. Coincidently, I was in town trying to find a job. In fact I had just asked the new owner of the local restaurant for a job in the kitchen, but she didn’t have anything at the moment. So, unemployed and suddenly in love with the bookstore owner’s daughter, I took the job and the rest is history.”

  Harold nodded his head. “The old fake the spill of coffee down my shirt trick. I dig it.”

  Charlie exaggerated a big frown. “So, am I to surmise that you have done the coffee bit to get a number?”

  “Get a number? No. Get something else… well.” Harold shrugged.

  Again, Charlie slapped Harold on the arm. “You are bad, mister, a bad, bad man.”

  “So what about you guys?” Jimmy asked. “I never found out how you guys met.”

  Harold leaned forward again. “Psych class. She couldn’t take her eyes off of me.”

  “Me?” Charlie coughed and then laughed. “I believe you were the one who stared at me, the second day of class, for the entire class. Hell, it probably started within the first five minutes of the first class. Lucky for you, I didn’t notice.” Charlie pointed and waved her finger at Harold. “And, my friend, I was quite uncomfortable with your staring, if I do say so myself.”

  “You looked pretty comfortable to me.” Harold smiled. “But she really loved me for my bod,” he told Jimmy and Hanna.

  “It was your mind and all that useless psychobabble that intrigued me.”

  “It was my bod, admit it.” Harold smirked and nodded at Jimmy and Hanna. “She couldn’t resist approaching me.”

  “Boy, do you ever have it wrong, mister,” Charlie said. “Painfully wrong. I believe I approached you to tell you to stop staring at me.”

  “And what did I say?”

  Charlie chuckled. “You said, ‘Who wears miniskirts to psych class?’”

  “And then?”

  Charlie looked down to conceal her smirk. “You said, ‘I’d love to take you to dinner if you’ll excuse my staring.’”

  “And what did you say?”

  “I said, I thought you were never going to ask.”

  Hmm, now that I think about it,” Harold started. He rubbed his face and chin. “You don’t wear mini-skirts to class anymore. Why is that?”

  Charlie chuckled and looked at Hanna. “Boys, they just don’t understand, do they?”

  Chapter Twelve

  When Johnson awoke he was, once again, alone. He ran to the window, only to see a bright, sun-filled day. Johnson simply shook his head and looked at his phone. “What an idiot,” he yelled at himself. He then hit himself on the forehead. “How stupid! You forgot to set more alarms?”

  Unable to move, Johnson watched the people move about the neighborhood. They were dressed in pastel Easter colors of yellow, blue, green and white. Many came from the early church services; others hurried to get to the nine o’clock service. Some rushed to get in line for the Easter parade. And all the children seemed to be well-behaved, dressed in their Easter bonnets, and suits and ties. Johnson grunted, thinking of how when his children were young they would anxiously anticipate an abundance of eggs, candy and money they might come in contact with.

  Feeling dejected, Johnson sat down on the edge of the bed. What can I do now? He wondered. Unable to sleep any further, he considered taking a sleep aid. That might not be the answer though, since, like a drug addict, I’ll be forever chasing the next set of dreams. After several moments of self-pity and hatred, he decided to go to the store. There may be a delivery, he thought. And maybe, just maybe, the book I ordered, in the alternate dream universe, may come. After all, the flowers somehow made it to her. The sadness prevented him from generating enough energy to do anything. He was having difficulty just putting on his socks, let alone washing his face or even brushing his teeth. Johnson felt destroyed, as though he knew that his last chance at staying with Mary was forever lost.

  ****

  Johnson wanted to be invisible, while he made his way to the store. The people moving about seemed in their own little world. They don’t seem to notice anyone anyway, Johnson thought. This would be a good day for the invasion, or the Apocalypse. And for it being the beginning of April, it’s unseasonable warm. What’s up with that? Johnson lowered his head and shuffled toward the store. Who cares?

  Just before he reached the entrance of the bookstore, Johnson stopped and looked about the town, secretly hoping for a glance at Mary. No Mary, but smiling people continued to flood the area, all seemingly heading to the town’s park where the annual Easter celebration was to take place. He bumped into two women in dark, drab clothes, passing by, walking the other way. Must be non-believers, he thought.

  Reluctantly, Johnson entered the store. He stepped in and when he looked up he saw Hanna, Dino, Charlie, and Charlie’s friend, Harold. All held coffee cups from the local Starbuck’s. Perplexed, Johnson noticed the odd look and dark presentations of his daughter and her friends.

  “What’s going on?” he managed to get out, despite having very little energy or motivation.

  “Daddy,” Hanna began to tear up. “This is Harold. He’s a psychologist and he’s here to evaluate you.”

  “Or, he’s here to commit me. That sounds more like it.” Johnson shook his head and looked down. “Oh Hanna, I love you. I know you care. And I know it seems like I’m losing my mind…” Johnson looked back toward the door, and the town, searching for big guys in white suits, there to restrain him and take him away. No large guys were present, nor was there an ambulance waiting to whisk him away to an asylum. But, what he did notice was more people in dark colors, several of them were wearing black. Johnson peeked out the door and saw a large contingency of people coming and going from the restaurant. He turned back and, with newfound energy, shouted, “What’s going on down at Linda’s Café? Why are all those people there?”

  Puzzled, Hanna looked at Dino then Charlie and mouthed the words, “What the―?”

  “What’s going on down at Linda’s?” Johnson repeated.

  “See,” Dino said. “He’s easily distracted and can’t stay on task. And he thinks he’s involved with some phantom woman.”

  “Damn it!” Johnson yelled. “Just tell me what’s going on!”

  “Daddy, you’re scaring me.”

  Harold held out his hand and said, “Tell him what’s going on.”

  Hanna wiped her tears of fear. She had never seen her father yell like that. In fact, she could not remember a time when he even got noticeably angry. Putting her trust in Harold’s knowledge of mental illness, she decided to follow his lead. She nodded at Harold. “Okay.” She turned and addressed her father. “Well, Daddy, Linda died Friday night and everyone in the town is taking her flowers.”

  Johnson’s mood immediately lifted. “What day is it?”

  “It’s Easter Sunday, Mr. J. Don’t you know that?” Charlie asked.

  A smile came over Johnson and he pumped his fist.

  Dino turned his head and whispered to the others. “People with mental illness tend to get happy at other people’s misery. He’s a raving lunatic, I tell you.”

  “Well
, that’s not really true,” Harold chimed in.

  Johnson glanced out the window again and then back at Hanna. “I love you kiddo,” he said. “No harm done. I know you were doing what you thought was right.” Johnson turned to Dino. “Dino, you are a troubled young man, and I’m giving you a three-week notice. Maybe you can get a job somewhere as some Democrat’s campaign manager.”

  “Huh?” Dino nodded his head at Harold. “See? He’s delusional.”

  Johnson took two steps toward Dino. “Let me make this perfectly clear, son. You—are—fired!” He looked back at Hanna. “We’re expanding. We’re going to have a deli and gourmet coffee. We’re going to have a postal section over here.” He pointed to the northern section of the store. “And over there where the vacant office is…” Johnson paused and pointed to the southern wall that separated the bookstore with the vacant office next door. He continued to point as he walked toward the wall. “This wall will come down, and this is where we will keep all of our books. And we’re going to start selling albums and CDs as well.” Johnson turned and faced the group. He waved his hands to include the entire store. “And we’ll have a gift shop throughout the store.” He pointed at Hanna and Charlie. “The gift shop items will be those that you two can pick out. I believe we’re back in business.”

  “Are you crazy? We’re out of money Daddy!” Hanna yelled. “We can’t do that.” She turned to Harold and shouted, “He must be having delusions of grandeur! And I think he’s having another manic episode. Harold, you need to do something!”