by John Sharp
Chapter 3 – The Great Escape
I don’t know how long I stood there staring at the corpse of my mother. It seems like years. I am unable to do or feel anything at all. I just look down at her as Whisper tries to get my attention. Even the rapidly approaching sirens fail to break my horrid fascination and dispel the shock of what has happened. I killed my own mother. I fight with the unreality of the situation. This can’t be real.
A squeak of alarm from Whisper finally breaks my trance. Turning I glance around having a hard time seeing him through eyes filled with unshed tears. Whisper stands on the kitchen counter with my shadow looming overhead, peering into an open briefcase, his eyes wide. The same briefcase I had seen yesterday. Desperate for any distraction I go to his side, moving unsteadily in the surrounding carnage.
Whisper’s fur is soaked in blood and for a wild second I think about giving him a bath. My mother lays dead by my own hand and all I want to do is give Whisper a bath. True madness threatens to engulf me. Not the simple madness everyone already thinks I have. Fighting off a hysterical laugh I circle behind the counter, looking into the briefcase.
I’m not sure what I expect; a case full of money or maybe a dozen bags filled with a fine white powder. The plastic bags are there, but instead of white powder they are full of yellow crystals the size of a large vitamin. Each has a small, multi-limbed bug in the center as if encased in amber. The weight of the world crashes down upon me and unlike the greek god Atlas I can’t bear the strain. I slump against the refrigerator as Whisper snuggles close to me, purring like a cat.
“As pleasant as this all is, perhaps we should consider leaving now,” my shadow says, looking down at me.
“Be quiet, excreted darkness of an octopus anus!” Hisses Whisper, snuggling even closer to me. “Can’t you see Shifter is upset?”
“I’m only being practical, you worm ridden rat. Once the police arrive what do you think will happen to Shifter then, eh? He will be locked up in a tiny cell and animal control will take you away and cut off your balls. What will you spend all day licking then?”
With a start I realize he is right, at least partially. I can’t run but Whisper can.
Hurrying to the closed curtain with Whisper in my arms I throw back the shades. Below, in the weak morning light, I see police cars racing toward my apartment, their sirens wailing. They will be here in minutes. Opening the window I set Whisper on the ledge. There is a fire escape that he can use to get down.
“Whisper, I need you to go to the park, to our favorite spot and stay there. If I’m not back in a few weeks go find some nice family to live with,” I say, the unshed tears finally falling. They pour from my eyes, wet spots glistening on Whisper’s fur.
“No Shifter, I won’t leave you.”
“You have no choice. Shadow is right. You can’t be captured by animal control. Just go. I’ll catch up after I’m free.”
The approaching police cars screech to a halt in front of my building. “Go, Whisper! Now!”
“I will see you again, Shifter,” he promises. With a leap Whisper lands on the fire escape and nimbly makes his way down.
“Finally, the rat is gone. Shall we make our exit as well?” My shadow asks.
“Shut up!” I yell at him.
Grinning he acts like I just tossed him a treat. “I like it when you are angry, I feel so much stronger,” my shadow says.
Glaring at him I head to the door, preparing to play the part of a confused teen. A teen who just killed his own mother so she wouldn’t eat him. I am in so much trouble.
On my way to the front door I pause, seeing my mother’s small handbag lying by the couch. Miraculously it is untouched by the carnage surrounding it. Scooping up the small bag I open it and peer inside. It’s stuffed with money in neat, tidy little bundles, probably for some kind of drug deal. Thinking quickly I head to the stove, placing the purse inside. Resting my left hand on it I shift it far enough away from reality so it can’t be seen by human eyes. My shadow watches everything without comment. I get back to my feet feeling like a thief and go to the front door.
“I can’t run and hide. They know all about me and they will find me. I have to show them I’m innocent to get out of this. You need to behave or things might go very badly.” I open the door and step into the hallway. My shadow just shrugs, blending into the non-sentient shadows behind me. Leaving the door open I curl up in the hallway, allowing all the grief to overwhelm me at last.
When the police arrive a few minutes later they find me covered in blood, curled up and crying. I look like the victim that I am. I’m not sure what I am really grieving over. The possibility of losing Whisper forever? The fact that I just killed my own mother? Or how different my life will be from this point on. Perhaps all three, but mostly Whisper, my only friend.
Despite the fact that I pose no threat, after one look inside I am promptly handcuffed. More than one person loses their lunch after a brief glance inside. Hauling me to the squad car I had time for one last look at my home before the door was shut, the loud siren drowning out my bleak thoughts.