Brian swallowed against the bile that rose in his throat.
“I’m more real than you can imagine. The sooner you believe in me, the sooner you can deal with the things in your so-called reality.” The beast scratched Brian’s arm with a talon.
He screamed. It burned like acid on his skin, revealing a small welt with effervescent pus. “So, you really exist?” Brian nursed his arm, and much to his relief, it stepped back into the darkness.
“What’s real to you will soon surprise you.”
Brian inched closer to the dark shadow. “I’m sick of riddles. I want facts. Just spell it out for me and be done with it.”
“I’m sorry,” hissed the beast. “But I can’t do that. No one can, but you.”
“Another riddle?”
Silence. Only the gentle hum of the wind caressing the trees could be heard. Brian strained to see the creature, but it was gone. He collapsed to the wet grass and shut his eyes. He tried to block the beast’s words from his mind, but they ate at him.
What is real to you will soon surprise you.
****
Cold, Brian opened his eyes. The sun sank below the horizon and cast purple and orange ripples along the skyline.
Brian stretched, and remembered his dream. He felt his arm and sighed. It was only a dream. He looked at his watch. Wow. I was asleep for almost two hours. He dusted the sand from his suit and returned to his car.
The voice from his nightmare cycled through his mind. Because of his professional background, Brian didn’t just throw dreams away as pure nonsense. Often, dreams were a window into a person’s masked anguish, among other things.
But this persistent creature disturbed him. What’s he trying to tell me? He would have to analyze it later. Maybe when he hadn’t been drinking.
Of course, Brian didn’t know when that would be. Nowadays he seemed to always need a nip. He stretched and popped his neck. He would figure it out later. He had enough stress in his life. For now, he would grab a bite to eat and visit a bar.
****
Danielle smiled as she and Ray left the restaurant. Outside, the sun had set. The waves could only be heard in the dark distance.
Ray reached to open his door, but something stopped him. Or rather, someone. He started to cross the street, but a car started and pulled out of the lot. He jumped into the driver’s seat and started the engine. His cell rang.
“Ray speaking.” His car glided out of the lot, in pursuit of the vehicle. “Yeah, I’m behind him. Don’t worry, I’ll follow him home.” He stopped at a red light, but the other car didn’t. “Shoot!” Ray hit the steering wheel. “No, I promise. Bye.” The light turned green. He gunned it.
Danielle’s pulse hammered in her ears as the car raced through a yellow light. “Is everything OK?”
“We need to take a slight detour.”
The car ahead turned left.
Ray did the same.
“It’s Brian, isn’t it?”
Ray glanced at her, but didn’t answer.
They rode in stressed silence the rest of the way.
Danielle didn’t understand the madness. Why didn’t Ray just call the police?
Brian was clearly driving drunk. He needed to be arrested.
But she feared voicing her opinion.
This was obviously something Ray felt very passionate about.
But was it right to be silent, either? When they stopped, she’d try to broach the subject.
The car ahead swerved, almost hitting a parked car.
Danielle gasped.
“Only two more blocks,” Ray muttered under his breath.
Finally, the car rolled over the curb, and into a driveway.
Ray parked a safe distance away and shut off his lights.
They watched as Brian climbed out his car, stumbled up the walk and into the house.
Ray exhaled. “Ready?”
“Why do you do that?”
Ray scrunched his eyebrows. “Do what?”
“Help him like that? Why don’t you call the authorities?” She waved her hands to the house. “He is going to kill someone if you don’t turn him in.”
“That’s why I follow him home. To make sure—”
“You can’t protect anyone a block behind. What if someone was to run out into the street? What if a mother with a van full of kids was to come around the corner at the wrong time?” Her voice rose. “What if a—”
“I’m not going to turn in my friend.” His jaws clenched.
“Even if it makes you an accessory to murder?”
Ray stared out at the road, his knuckles white on the steering wheel.
The tension in the car hung heavy.
Maybe she’d gone too far. It wasn’t her intention to hurt him. She just wanted him to see the danger he was playing with. She opened her mouth to speak, and then snapped it closed. What was there to say? Truthfully, she knew she was right.
“I promised,” he whispered.
She peered sideways at him. “Promised what?”
“To take care of him.” Ray faced her, and tears were visible in his eyes.
Her heart softened. “Letting him drive around drunk isn’t saving him. It’ll get him killed.”
He stared at her moment, took a huge breath, and then started the engine.
It was obvious the discussion was over, and that their perfect night had ended badly.
What she wouldn’t do to go back to when they’d almost kissed.
****
Brian quietly shut the door to his house and stumbled toward his bedroom. The light flipped on from under the door, and he stopped short. He put his hand to his mouth and blew. His breath reeked of alcohol. If Rhonda was awake, she’d be furious. Brian patted his pockets for some gum, to no avail. He tiptoed past their bedroom door, to the kitchen, and opened the refrigerator door.
“Brian?”
Brian took a deep breath and peeked over the top of the door. “Hi, honey,” he said with mock cheerfulness. “Glad to see you’re awake.”
“Where have you been?” she asked. “It’s one o’clock in the morning, and you promised to come home and talk.”
“Oh, sorry,” he said, ducking in search of a smelly food. “I had a rough day and went for a drive to clear my head. Time must have got away from me.” Brian spotted some string cheese. He ripped open the package and stuffed it in his mouth.
“Brian, have you been drinking?”
Brian coughed. The cheese lodged in his throat. His eyes watered as he worked to swallow it.
Rhonda watched with arms crossed, not amused.
“Hey, just a little one to unwind. What’s the big deal?” Brian slammed the door closed and traversed to the living room with Rhonda at his heels.
“We need to talk about your drinking, Brian. It’s out of control.”
“Stop it!” Brian faced her. “I’m fine. Got it?”
“No, Brian. You’re a drunk.”
Heat slammed into Brian’s skull. “I think I liked you better catatonic.”
Rhonda’s lip trembled and a tear grazed her cheek. She nodded. Without another word, she walked back to their room and slammed the door.
“Rhonda, I’m sorry,” he squeaked.
The light under the door snapped off.
He felt horrible. He’d wanted his wife back in his life and look at the way he treated her. But she deserved it, didn’t she? After all, Brian had enough people telling him to change. He didn’t need anyone in his family singing the same song. He needed her to support him.
Ray probably got to her. Ray. His very name made Brian’s blood sear. Yes, they were best friends at one time, but when he opted to take a management job—a job that made Ray Brian’s supervisor, things changed. Sure, Brian was jealous at first, but he’d still been happy for his friend. Until Ray turned into super jerk.
****
Ray walked Danielle to the door, but didn’t wait around for any goodnight kiss. He was still angry with her. Maybe even a
little angry with himself. Deep down, he knew she was right. But he was fixing this.
Brian was on the verge of getting help. Everything would be OK.
If Danielle couldn’t support him in that, then she wasn’t the woman for him.
He drove into the carport and climbed out of his car. A deep depression washed over him. How long had he endured this battle with his friend? The physical toll of little sleep and worry was beginning to age him. As he unlocked the door, he began to pray. “Jesus, I need You more than ever. Am I doing the right thing? I don’t think I can do this much longer.”
He dropped his keys in a bowl by the door and walked to the kitchen. A plate of brownies sat in the middle of the table. His mother had been by. Most likely, they were fat-free or made out of something healthy and tasteless.
Ray dropped to the couch, kicked off his shoes, and then flipped on the TV. Light filled the dark space. Black and white images flashed on the screen. He hadn’t seen this movie since he was a kid. He turned up the volume, and allowed the fantasy world to take over his mind. No longer did he want to think about Brian. Or Danielle, for that matter. He just wanted to feel peace.
But no matter how much he tried to be engrossed in the story, the TV characters just made him more miserable. Apparently, no amount of peace would come from their sad story. He shut it off, and switched on the light. His Bible caught his eye. Part of him wanted to ignore it and go to bed. But a pastor once told him, “If you don’t feel like doing something with the Lord, that’s probably when you need it the most.”
Reluctantly, Ray reached for the black Book and flipped it open to Psalms. The peace chapter, his mother once called it. He scanned the page, his eyes falling on 31:24. Be strong and take heart, all you who hope in the LORD.
Tears formed and grazed his cheek. Ray didn’t bother to wipe them away. The Lord knew his pain, and thought enough to show him this verse. Thank you, Lord. I will not give up on Brian. You haven’t.
****
Brian opened his eyes. Light filtered through the blinds. He must have fallen asleep on the couch in his suit.
“Good morning, Dad.” Lara sat across from him, nursing a glass of orange juice.
“What time is it?”
“Around eight in the morning.”
Brian jumped up. “Oh, no! Why didn’t you wake me?”
“You looked tired.”
“Great. I’m going to be late again.” Brian ran to his room.
Rhonda lay motionless on the bed.
He shook his head and grabbed a fresh suit. Skipping the shower, he pulled off his clothes from the night before and stepped into the new ones.
“Rhonda?”
She didn’t stir.
“Well, I see things are back to normal.” He fixed his tie, and ran a comb through his hair. “I’ll be home late.” He grabbed his briefcase and headed out.
“Hey, Dad,” Lara said from behind him.
Brian turned around. “Yes?”
“Don’t forget to come to Parents’ Night tomorrow night. It’s very important to me that you come.”
“I’ll be there. You can count on it,” he said and closed the door.
17
Ray parked in front of his childhood home and shut off the engine. His mom had called that morning in desperate need of her prescription. Her car wouldn’t start, so Ray, as always, came to her rescue. He walked up the cobblestone path and knocked on the door.
“Come in, Ray.”
He wiped his feet on the rust-colored mat and pushed the door open.
His mother lay in her brown chair with an ice bag on her head, eyes closed, most likely for dramatic effect.
“Hi, Mom,” Ray said.
She pulled the bag into her lap and stuck out her cheek.
Ray crossed to her chair and kissed her. “You’re not feeling well?”
“I should have taken my insulin hours ago. My blood sugars are out of control.”
His mother did a lot of things for attention and this was no exception. But she did struggle with diabetes.
Ray dug in the white bag and pulled out a glass vial. “Where is your syringe?”
She pointed to the kitchen. “Top drawer next to the stove.”
He handed her the medicine and went in search of a syringe.
“Do you remember my neighbor, Elizabeth Fox?” His mother yelled from the other room.
“Not really.” The drawer by the stove was filled with many things—a mousetrap, a calculator, a thermometer, at least three can openers, needle and thread, a dozen or so pizza coupons, recipe cards—but he didn’t see a syringe. “Mom, it’s not here.”
“You’re not looking.”
He pushed the junk around again. “I’m looking, Mom. It’s not here.”
She huffed. “Why do I bother to ask?”
Good question. He stepped out of the way to let her near the drawer.
She pushed the stuff around, and produced a syringe.
He raised an eyebrow. “It wasn’t there a minute ago.”
“Uh huh.” She frowned and went to work on giving herself the medication. “So, are you sure you don’t remember my neighbor? She used to babysit you when you were young.”
No bells were ringing. “Sorry, no.”
His mother tossed the syringe on the counter and took a seat at the table. “Well, you should. Anyways, she has a niece named—”
“No, Mom. I didn’t come here to be introduced to a girl.”
The front door opened.
“Aah, there she is now.”
No way. Ray’s eyes went wide. “Mother,” he hissed.
She smiled, pretending to ignore him. “We’re in here, Tori.”
This was not good. Think of a way out. He glanced around the kitchen, not that there was a back door in this place. How could his mom do this to him? She’d tricked him. Probably had an entire stash of insulin in her closet. “Does your car work, Mom?”
“Never been better.” She stood and winked at the brunette who walked in the door. “Tori, I’m so glad you could come. This is my son, Ray. Ray, Tori. She’s in marketing.”
Ray smiled uncomfortably. “Nice to meet you.”
She grinned. “You, too. Your mom tells me you’re a psychologist?”
“Psychiatrist. Yes.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets and rocked on his heels. How could he get out of here gracefully?
“Well, you’ll have to ignore my son. He’s a bit shy around the ladies.”
“Mom!” This was unacceptable.
“I’m making this easy for you. Tori and I already discussed it, and she’d love to go out with you this Friday night.”
Unbelievable! He shook his head. “You are—” Words could not explain how angry he was at this moment. “I’m sorry, Tori. I’m sure you’re an amazing woman, but I’m sort of seeing someone.”
His mother laughed.
“You know what, Mom, I love you, but don’t call me for a while.” Ray started for the door.
“Raymond. Sweetheart. Come back.”
He didn’t stop. Why couldn’t she just let him be? Even if things with Danielle didn’t work out, it was his love life. He ducked into his car and cranked up the music. He needed to get to work, anyway.
Brian would be there soon.
****
Brian screeched into his parking space, leaving tread in his path. He bounded from the car, snatched his briefcase, and double-timed up the stairs. When he reached the top of the staircase, he peeked around the door. All clear. He bolted for his office.
“Good morning, Dr. Manifold,” Sheila said, stepping out of his office door.
“Sheila? What are you doing in my office?” Brian asked, out of breath.
“I let Dr. Richards in,” she said.
“You mean he’s in there?” Brian pointed to his door, sickened. Dr. Richards was Dr. Jai’s personal assistant.
She nodded slowly, a grin forming on her face.
What is she smiling about? Brian look
ed at his watch. “Well, did you cover for me?”
She shook her head.
“That’s just great, Sheila. Now, I’m in trouble.”
Sheila shrugged and returned to her desk.
Brian stared at the door. It felt like the entrance to purgatory. Big breath. He squared his shoulders and marched in with mock confidence.
“Dr. Manifold? So nice of you to join us,” Dr. Richards said.
Brian set his briefcase on the desk and turned to face the older man. “Yes, I overslept.”
“I see. Well, when you’re plenty rested, Dr. Jai would like a word with you.”
“Yes, sir.”
****
Brian sat awkwardly across from Dr. Jai. The man hadn’t talked in over five minutes. Brian looked at the exit, longing to run out.
“Do you have somewhere to be?” Dr. Jai asked, finally.
“As a matter of fact, I do have an appointment at ten,” Brian said.
Dr. Jai slapped his hand on his desk and stood. He was a short man, but wielded a power of intimidation better than a person twice his size. “Dr. Manifold, what am I going to do with you? I like you. I always have, but the more I read in this report,” he said, pointing to a blue folder on his desk, “the more I dread your future.”
“Are you firing me?” Brian blurted.
Dr. Jai let out a soft chuckle. “Well, it would seem the right decision, but I haven’t made one yet. I need to think about it some more. The board convenes in a couple more days. I will let them decide.”
“Can I see the report?” Brian asked.
Dr. Jai pressed his lips together and glanced back at the folder. “I don’t know.”
“I do have the right to defend myself, do I not? Are you taking everybody’s word as truth without ever asking me my side of things?”
“The number one complaint is that you’re never on time. Do you deny that, Dr. Manifold?”
Brian looked down at his hands. “No.” He obviously couldn’t deny that charge.
“The second is that you drink on the job. Do you deny that?”
“What?” Brian furrowed his eyebrows. “I would never even think about such an act.”
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