Purgatorium

by J. H. Carnathan

  Sealtiel, ashamed, looks over to me. “We need to hurry this up before the Valkyrie starts catching a whiff of what you just did to this poor man.” I make a gargling noise come out of my mouth. The man, feeling extremely uncomfortable, moves a step up in front of me.

  “Just like how you did it in your nightmares. Take control! Come on, the elevator is stopping. Concentrate and move your lips.”

  My nightmares? I was never in control of anything in my nightmares?

  Sealtiel looks at me strangely and says, “You’re out of time.” Suddenly the elevator doors open and he is gone. I force my thoughts back inside and let go of the controls.

  Out of the haze, I begin to see clearly. I am shocked to realize that I made it so quickly down the elevator. It usually takes five minutes to get back down here from my office.

  I look at the man in front of me, wondering when he got in.

  I must have been really out of it.

  I look down at my bottle and think to myself that I have had enough for tonight. I step out, wave to the security guard, and make my way through the sliding doors.

  I step outside and the cold weather hits me like a sledge hammer. I make my way to the car and remember the alcohol bottle still in my hand. I stop and pop open the trunk. To my surprise, inside I see a pink bicycle with a basket around it. I quickly shut the trunk thinking it was a gift Madi put in there for Anna from me. She thought I would forget to give her something like I did last Christmas. Well don’t I feel lucky having a wife to pick up after me, I think with distaste in my mouth.

  The wind blows hard against me as I get into the driver’s seat and close the door. Snow pelts the windshield. I turn the key and can barely see the other side of the street. I accelerate slowly and do a U-turn. I stop in front of my office building. Madi and Anna run out the front doors and across the sidewalk to the car.

  I begin to feel as if I have done this before. I look down at my coin necklace and remember how I know. I remove the coin necklace, hanging it on the rearview mirror. This is how my nightmare started, I think.

  The rear passenger side door opens and Anna climbs in. Madi closes it behind her and then gets in the front passenger side door. I look at them and know it was never a dream. Madi pulls the door shut. The sound echoes through the car. I start the ignition and flip on the light. The car lights shine on a silver bumper in front of us that reflects back to me, as if blinding me from the terror that I know will eventually come next.

  45 Minutes

  I open my eyes to find myself lying on the floor in the subway car. Sealtiel is nowhere to be seen. The bottle of Macallan rests in front of me. I look up at the electronic message board and see the train is nearing my stop. The overhead lights blink on and off, and the doors open. I stand up and walk out, reaching for my logbook in my jacket. It’s gone.

  Sealtiel must have taken it from me, I think angrily. Feeling more down about myself, I sense a craving building inside of me.

  I look back at the bottle, still lying on the subway floor. I know I shouldn’t take it with me. I know it was one of the reasons that got me here in the first place. I know if I hadn’t drank it that night I would have been more cautious. But knowing all that still doesn’t change my mind. I quickly rush over to the bottle just when the doors are about to close. I scoop it up and slide my body out before they could close me in.

  Staring at the bottle only makes my decision worse, and yet I still don’t have the courage to leave it. I am untangling back to my true nature which scares me half to death.

  I walk up the stairs and out of the subway station. With no thought, just silence, I walk.

  I turn the corner and head toward the bridge. I look up and see a tornado on the other side of the dam. I stand there and wonder about how I was the one responsible for killing my family. Thunder and lightning strike in the distance in front of me. I continue walking, making my way over the bridge.

  I can’t wallow in self-pity anymore, I think to myself. That isn’t going to help me get out of here. Maybe Sealtiel is right about me. What am I worth?

  I feel my jacket and remember the book I forgot to finish unlocking. I take out the logbook and put in the rotary dial GREED. Nothing unlocks.

  I don’t understand? Why didn’t it work?! Why?!

  I am about to throw the book off the bridge when I catch myself. I take a few breaths to relax my temper.

  Once across the bridge, I stroll beneath the billboard and look up at Madi’s face.

  I grow numb inside again like the way I was before the angels came. No thoughts that cloud my judgment and no thinking about a past that has long since left me behind.

  I look back at the bottle of whiskey in my hand. It compels me to drink. I take the cork out and hold the bottle up. Then it hits me.

  I gaze into the bottle, imagining a small demon swimming around inside of it. Memories of my idleness run through my head. Years upon years of heavy drinking, mixed in with poor decisions, flood my memory bank.

  This was my desire.

  It poured into me like an addiction. Like a poison, it consumed me. Made me see the world differently. The way I wanted to see it. Maybe because I felt my life wasn’t good enough or I used it to cover up my own failures. I really am worth nothing.

  I put the cork back in it and raise it high above me. I get ready to throw it when I feel an urge to suddenly stop. I look at the bottle once again, watching the hard liquor sway from side to side. It puts me in a trance that I can’t seem to escape from. I put it in my jacket pocket, for reasons I don’t understand.

  I see the twister accelerate rapidly toward the billboard and I continue walking. The winds rip through the billboard, shattering it to pieces. I make my way through the sliding doors to the apartment and walk through the lobby and into the elevator. I press the button leading me to the roof. I wait in utter and complete silence.

  50 Minutes

  Walking out of the elevator and onto the rooftop, I hear thunder once again. Sealtiel is looking through the telescope. Lightning flashes, illuminating the city. The sudden flashes make me wince.

  “Love looks through a telescope and envy, through a microscope,” says Sealtiel, staring at me through the telescope. “Please stop your incessant pattering on about your inferiority. I’d much rather not have to be privy to it. This is good-bye! I well tell the rest of the angels to pack it up. You can handle the next three days on your own. You seem to like that anyway, since you find us to be worthless.”

  I stand straight and hold out my hand to him. No longer a man with no value but instead, a man that knows what he is worth.

  He looks at me as if he were solving a puzzle. “You found out what your desire was? The five letter word for your true sin, didn’t you?”

  I nod.

  Sealtiel smirks at my declaration. I take out the logbook from my jacket. I put in S/L/O/T/H. The latch unlocks.

  Sealtiel locks it back with great resolve. “In your own time,” he says. “So what do you desire now?”

  I desire to never let myself give up. Life doesn’t happen to you, it happens for you.

  Sealtiel proudly nods to me.

  As I put the logbook back in my jacket, I notice my watch that Sealtiel is still wearing.

  “Do you understand what makes this watch so important?” he says looking at me. “Why is it something to be desired over? It’s another thing I will never be able to emotionally understand. A gift given out of love. That is a hidden treasure in itself. A treasure I will be forever jealous towards.”

  I keep looking at the watch now, thinking that it might be my token. He has been eyeing my watch ever since I met him. He knows something. But why would he keep my token from me? Unless…I quit thinking so he won’t read my mind.

  “Perhaps you’re still here, not because you think you can’t win, but because you are afraid to win. Madi an
d Anna could still be alive. And I get it—you want them to remember you as a good man, not a cheater.”

  Sealtiel walks over to the elevator and presses the button. “But think about this, were you ever a good man?”

  Lightning strikes as the elevator doors open. Sealtiel walks in. “Best of luck to you. Hopefully the book will give you more insight on your token,” he says, grinning through his teeth. The doors close behind him.

  I ponder, there is only three days left. My token could be my watch or Madi’s ring. Though if it is my watch, then my demon could be Sealtiel. He has had greed-like tendencies today. I think back to the toast at the restaurant. He wants to be human, I remember him telling me. It would make sense.

  I think about the waitress and how she is somehow a part of all this too. I take out the key to her apartment.

  Let’s find out who you really are.

  I look at the hourglass on the ledge as it flips over.

  55 Minutes

  I take one last look at the city view. Thunder reigns from the sky as lightning swarms around the small town that I created. Twisters are still reeking havoc as I turn away and head back to the elevator.

  I think about Madi’s ring and start to remember what Gabriel said about my token. ‘A gift that can’t be taken, only given.’ I realize that Madi’s ring is not a gift that was given to me. It was a gift I forgot to give. Madi’s ring isn’t my token.

  I sit there as the elevator starts to slow down. I gaze upon the painting and begin to realize, if Madi’s ring isn’t the token then its purpose for even being here is just another thing to inflict emotional pain onto me. That means Sealtiel could actually be my demon and if my watch was the token, then all he has left to do is wait till I smash all the hourglasses. The doors will open, he walks in, and I become stuck here!

  My anger bottles up and releases all at once as I bring my hand back and slam the painting with my fist. I pull my arm back and notice the painting didn’t even move, not even a scratch. I find humor in its significance towards my situation.

  No matter how many punches I throw, it will never be enough. I must find a way to slow my demon down long enough to where I can fight back, I think as the elevator arrives at my stop.

  I slide out and walk down the hall. I stop at the waitress’ door and glance at the number 5. Suddenly, I remember the key I found. Taking it out of my pocket, I recognize the number 5 displayed on it. I put the key in and turn it, unlocking the door.

  Pushing it open, I see nothing but a dark room. I turn on the lights and become instantly confused by what I see. I look around and notice the whole place is an exact replica of my own. From the wooden floors, to the couch, kitchen, bathroom, and bedroom. Everything is the same. I quickly go over to the fridge and open the freezer. I glance in to find the gun I wanted her to keep safe is still inside.

  Maybe I can trust her.

  Feeling a chill in the air, I head back to the front door.

  I walk out her apartment, open my door, and quickly head into my living room. Lightning can be seen outside my window as the thunder screams out in a mad roar. I strut over to the kitchen counter and take out the bottle of whiskey from my jacket pocket. I open the trash can and raise the bottle over it. I am about to release it from my fingers when I stop myself. I can’t seem to do it. Instead, I place it on the counter.

  I will throw it away tomorrow, I think to myself.

  I walk to the bedroom, past the framed American flag on the wall, and look over to my blueprint still hanging there.

  As the thunder outside gets louder, I am shocked when I hear Madi’s voice.

  “Happy birthday to you,” she sings.

  I turn around. Madi stands in the doorway, holding a single lit candle in a birthday cupcake. She walks closer to me until she is holding the cupcake near my mouth. I feel my heart sink, knowing what I have done to her.

  “Happy birthday, Mr. Author, happy birthday to you. Make a wish.”

  I wish I could take it all back, I think. I blow the candle out and she is gone again. Sadness overwhelms me as I begin to think back on what she just said. Author? I just remembered about the logbook I have yet to read.

  Lighting strikes. The thunder gets louder. I grab hold of the book out of my jacket and flip to the first page. It reads, “A Face to Call Home.” I peruse through the pages. It is filled with my own writing.

  My name is nowhere to be found, which brings me down just a little. But nevertheless, I did it. I actually finished a book, I continue thinking, with joy. Eager to start reading, I flip back to the first chapter page.

  “New Year’s Eve is like every other night; there is no pause in the march of the universe, no breathless moment of silence among created things by which the passage of another twelve months may be noted. And yet, no man or woman has quite the same thoughts this evening that come with the encroaching darkness of other nights. This one eve comes with newfound hope; it revolves around second chances and regrets. Let the end of days speak swiftly to every hard of hearts, so that the new year will bring to each no doubts but simple clarity.”

  Reading each successive page, I plumb the depths of my soul.

  I look over at the time: 58:01.

  I abruptly stop reading, remembering why I wanted the book in the first place. I flip to the very end and see a checklist of four things my past self had drawn up. I scroll down to each step:

  Remember there are 9 hourglasses to break.

  Must make it out under 42:02

  Keep my promise to Madi

  Trust Stephanie

  I stop as I get to number four on the checklist. I stare at it not understanding. Questions flood my mind. What does this mean, I think, looking back in curiosity. I read it again: Trust Stephanie.

  Who is Stephanie? I wonder as I hear the final seconds coming from the alarm clock, ticking away to my indelible vulnerability.

  59:58….59:59….60:00.

  The radio plays “The Light in the Piazza,” though the song is a little muffled. Inside the car, I can barely move. “Anna? Madi? Are you okay?”

  I can hear Anna crying in the backseat. I look over to the passenger seat where Madi is crying as well. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me,” she cries out.

  I look to the backseat. Anna is still wearing her seatbelt. “Everything is going to be okay, little girl. Are you hurt?” She shakes her head. “That’s my strong girl. Can you look at me?”

  I watch her slowly raise her little head to see me. She shows me the snow globe in her hands, letting me know she kept it safe. A set of headlights flash from behind her, blinding me. All I can hear is the song still playing as the lights from behind Anna get brighter.

  SLAM! I feel my body pushed against the seat and then toward the dashboard. I look outside as our car ricochets into the guardrail, breaking through it, and then grinds to a halt as it teeters on the edge. I open my eyes to see Madi’s brown eyes staring back at me from the passenger seat, not once ever blinking.

  Everything goes blurry while the song comes to an end, “The light in the piazza, my love.” Out of nowhere, I hear the sound of an alarm clock going off. Beep…Beep…Beep…***

  FRIDAY

  Jehudiel

  I open my eyes, which feel swollen and bloodshot. Looking down at myself, I see long hair draping over my shoulders and onto my chest. My full beard brushes against my sternum. I cup my face in my hands, remembering what I have just seen. They’re both dead, I think in horror. They are both dead because of me, I lament.

  I lift my head up, releasing my hands from my face. Opening my eyes, I stare up towards the ceiling. To my surprise, I find something odd in the light fixture above my bed. I tilt my head, having never noticed a black light bulb inside there before.

  I take the controller off my nightstand and turn the light on. My whole room is
lit by the ultraviolet glow of the bulb. Seeing clearer, I glance around the room and notice a splatter of different coats of blue and black paint all across the walls that goes down to the floors, which wasn’t there before. Looking back up, the word “Lust” is spelled out on the ceiling.

  What does this mean?

  My eyes slowly adjust to the fluorescent light. As I wander around the blue lit room, I find it rather ironic. The blacks and blues seem to distinguish a part of my soul, making it relevant to how I feel at this very given moment—broken down and beaten. Like someone has taken hold of me and pounded me till I was black and blue in the face.

  I chuckle like a crazy person at the symmetry I just uncovered.

  I look over at the handbook appearing once again by my night stand. I look through my drawer and find a matchbook. I take the book in my hand and strike a match. Holding it underneath the pages, I watch it catch fire. I stare at the fire melting every piece of it away for a minute, then reach my legs over to put my feet on the ground. I throw it in the trashcan by my bed, then look over at the American flag, hanging on my wall. I lift it up, off the wall, and smash the frame to the ground. I yank out the flag, flinging the broken pieces of glass everywhere around the room.

  Here is to you, father, I think to myself. I bet you would get a kick out of this if you could see me now. I throw the flag into the fire. I told you it was funny, father, I think as I watch the flag slowly burn. The ashes float up and out of the trash can, flying softly in front of me.

  I look back over to my bed and notice that up above it lies a painting of an angel holding a skull with the words R.I.P just below it. The ultraviolet rays helps brighten its message towards me.

  I think the graffiti artist is trying to tell me something.

  Looking down, I pick up my snow globe from the nightstand. I stare into it and think of Anna holding on to it in her last few seconds before the crash. I clutch the globe tightly between my fingers, replaying the whole incident in my head. I walk over to look out the window, staring at the hourglass reflecting off of it, and knowing with all the time in the world I could never stop them from dying.