“What are you doing?” asked Beth confused. “It was only a joke.”
“I think it’s best if I just go home tonight. I have to.”
“Hey look I’m sorry if I’ve upset you.” Beth pulled a face and pouted her lips.
“You haven’t but I know I’ll sleep easier tonight knowing that I won’t do anything I’ll regret. You can relax too. I’ll call you in the morning we’ll grab breakfast at Benny’s, 9am usual time.”
“Matt, don’t beat your self up. Remember no matter how real these dreams seem they’re just dreams. It’s not real it’s just fantasy.”
“I know but the strong feelings that follow seem almost familiar. I feel so guilty for doing those things.” He pulled his sweater over his head and flattened his hair with his hand.
“That’s the point. You didn’t do those things. Okay here’s one for you. I’m sick of following my dreams. I’m just going to ask them where they’re going and hook up with them later.” Beth smiled knowing she had stumped him.
“Hemmingway?”
“Not even close: Mitch Hedberg. Okay, I want you to drive carefully on the way home. Don’t speed and don’t fall asleep at the wheel,” said Beth smiling at Matt.
“I thought you were supposed to tell me what you do want not what you don’t want?”
Beth pulled a face and snuggled under the blankets. Her head protruded from the top of the duvet and her auburn hair looked slightly messed. She looked gorgeous with her clear skin and sparkling green eyes. He was lucky to find her and now this threatened to blow them apart. He knew he had to be careful. He did not want this to come between them. She was already concerned about her safety. He better arrange to see someone quick and get this fixed. Matt forced a smile. “I’m sorry; I’ll get this sorted first thing tomorrow.”
“Okay lover boy,” said Beth yawning, “now get the hell out and let me sleep.” Her eyes sparkled when she teased him.
“Matt smiled as he turned the lights out and descended the narrow stairs of her cottage. He grabbed his coat and checked to see if his car keys and mobile phone were still in the jacket pocket. He looked around the small cottage; it was old but comfortable. This was Beth’s place and he felt at home here. His flat felt sterile and was just a place to doss down. This felt like a home. The cottage was bought for Beth by a kind old man. She had helped him in his later years. The famous Haworth Main Street was a two-minute walk from the cottage’s front door. The village of Haworth was nestled on the edge of the Yorkshire Moors cocooned in a Victorian time warp. Haworth had not changed in the last three hundred years or so it seemed.
Matt pulled at the zipper of his coat closing the clasp as far as he could. It would be chilly outside and he would have preferred the warmth of her bed. He opened the cottage door, turned and firmly closed it behind him. It was an old door and needed an extra push to engage the latch. He tried to open it again to make sure it was locked. Satisfied he turned and headed towards his car. His old blue Toyota was parked outside, wet from the misty fog. Matt ran to the car and quickly entered sheltering his body from the biting wind. Beth lay in bed listening for the distinctive sound that accompanied the ignition of Matt’s car. There it was, like a cat dragging a tin can. She smiled and pulled the duvet closer, tucking it under her chin. Matt clicked the seatbelt into position and placed the gearshift into first. Slowly raising his clutch, he was on his way home to the village of Oakworth. Matt had moved to Oakworth recently from Cullingworth. The fact that it was closer to Beth was a bonus. Driving through the narrow roads he recalled how he met Beth.
He had told her that he was taking a short vacation in Europe and was visiting Brussels, Belgium.
Matt was walking to a corner of the Grand Place when a beautiful young woman seemed to slip on a metal stud. Shaped like a shell and made from brass, the stud was embedded within a cobblestone. Shiny and worn from the relentless foot traffic, the stud became polished and slick. As Beth slipped to the ground she seemed to glow under the fading light of day. Matt was the first person to extend a helping hand. He was the only person near to Beth. He saw the whole sequence of events. That was the moment he first met Beth. He was awkward but she was smooth and in control. She invited him to dinner and they talked all night. He remembered how intelligent she was. She had a witty comeback for everything he said. She ate more than he did that night!
“God she’s beautiful, that’s the part that surprised me,” thought Matt, concentrating on the narrowing road. The road was dark as he reached the valley bottom. This part of the journey had no road lamps. The car headlights provided little illumination as the fog settled on the low-lying land. His next challenge was a steep ascent. His car held out and it was not long before he was sitting in his flat thinking about his nightmares. Matt grabbed a clean coffee mug and opened the fridge door. He poured cold water from a container into the mug and walked into his small living room. He sat on his couch and sipped the water.
“I’ve never been a violent person and I don’t play video games. I haven’t seen a horror movie in months and yet my dreams? I’m some kind of knife wielding murdering fiend. I know how I felt. I wanted to kill those men so badly. Something or someone drove me. I know it was a dream but God it felt real. I’d better get help.” Matt sipped the cool water and his thoughts turned to Beth warmly snuggled in her cottage bed. “I should be with her right now but I just don’t trust myself. What’s happening to me?”
It was a little over three months since Matt first lifted Beth off the cobbles in Brussels. He knew right away that he liked this girl. He more than liked her and that was dangerous. After three months he welcomed her back from a business trip with a bedroom full of roses, a large tub of mint chocolate chip ice cream and warm bath drawn. He had used her favorite coconut foaming bath oil. He smiled as he remembered her getting home from the airport. She hopped into the bath and soaked. Once clean she wrapped herself in her flannel pajamas and joined Matt in the bedroom. She was surprised to see the tub of ice cream but did not complain. Matt had visited the local Indian market and found a great statue of Lord Ganesha, the elephant headed Indian deity. He was the remover of all obstacles and his help was needed tonight.
As she scooped the ice cream from the tub she noticed the flowers, white roses of course. She saw the Lord Ganesha statue sitting on her dresser but something else caught her eye. He was holding a small blue satin box. She turned to look at Matt quickly with that uncertain gaze in her eyes. Matt dropped to his knees and told her to open the box. Inside the box was a gold ring with a single solitaire diamond. On the inside of the gold band a message was inscribed, “For my sly little fox.”
When he asked her to marry him his insides were churning. He had never felt so nervous and he needed her to trust him. She burst out laughing and hugged him. She kept saying, “Yes.” It was fast but he had managed it perfectly.
She told him of her life before meeting the old man at the allotment. She described getting her fox tattoo and being struck by lightening. She told Matt of her incredible adventure traveling to India, Canada and Belgium. She described Rose and Sanjeev. She talked about Niagara Falls and the Japanese-Canadian Kaigara. Finally she told him about Sakura, Subra and Toshie. It was an incredible story.
His brain was scrambled and he was clearly tired. He did not relish the thought of letting his mind wander into the dream state. He feared what might enter into his head next. He knew he had no control over his thoughts and this made him uncomfortable. Some people wake and can never remember their dreams. He felt envious of those people now. Matt was an athletic young man but recently he had been so tired, almost lethargic. When he met Beth he had never felt so energized. Their relationship was progressing but his energy levels dropped noticeably after a couple of months. He thought it might be related to school and exams but he knew that was not the cause. Despite Beth being in his life he had not changed much and neither had his long-term mission. He still ran, played soccer and ate in a balanced, moderate way. His weig
ht seemed stable but he always seemed to have a stiff neck. He lifted his hand and rubbed the back of his tight neck, in a circular massaging motion. “You can do this just stick with the plan.” His gold chain slid over his fingers as he rubbed his neck. Matt wore an unusual necklace.
Matt liked his Grandmother; she was a kind and knowledgeable woman. When he felt bad or had arguments with his parents he would usually visit his Grandmother. Her name was Iris; a flower she often mentioned was not her favorite. In her younger years suitors would try to be cute and buy her Iris flowers. She would smile politely. She really did not like this flower. She preferred roses. Iris would listen to Matt and always gave him good advice. He was shy around the ladies and Iris knew exactly what to say. She had a wicked sense of humor and they just clicked. She would call Matt, “A chip off the old block.” It was years later that he realized that she meant he was just like her.
Iris died suddenly in her sleep from heart failure. Matt was shocked and struggled to comprehend her death. The funeral was a dreary affair held in the rain. He had lasting memories of people crying. Long speeches and stale sandwiches were his dominant memories from that day. He realized something later in his life. She had always asked him about his day, his life, his dreams, his friends and his relationship with his parents. How he had loved to talk about himself and how she seemed to love to listen. Occasionally interrupting to give well thought out advice. He really liked her. In his early twenties in a moment of reflection he realized how little he knew of her life. He had never taken the time to ask. She had been a nurse close to the front lines with the troops. She had an aversion to conflict and encouraged Matt to talk out his differences. “Violence only leads to violence,” she would often say.
Matt was still young when she died. Matt had lied to Beth. He told her his necklace was a gift from his Nana. It was not that far from the truth. He was restricted in his involvement in her funeral. He remembered one day his mother coming into his room and talking gently to him. “Matt, I know you liked your Nana. Here’s something to remember her by.” She opened her palm and a small pendant was revealed. It was not anything special; it was actually a little dull. It was a gold coin pendant that he had seen her wear. It was nothing like the crystal pendant hanging around his neck. The discolored crystal was a dull yellow cloudy color clasped by golden sea serpents. It was not attractive or cool in any way. In contrast his coin pendant was highly polished.
“Wear it for good luck. We can go down to the market tomorrow and I’ll buy you a new gold chain. How’s that sound?”
Matt appreciated the kind gesture from his Mother. The two had fun that day and they cheered each other up. They shopped and stopped for lunch to talk. They really connected that day and both missed Iris a lot. He wore the gold coin pendant with pride. It sparked fond memories. Since then the crystal pendant had replaced the coin pendant. Beth hated it. She harped on at Matt a few times to get rid of it. It did not fit his image. When Matt lied to Beth about its sentimental value she never mentioned it again. She never liked it but at least she understood. Matt was procrastinating for fear of another bad dream. He had to sleep. He was so tired. Sitting in the dark he stretched out his feet, placed the empty mug on a side table and fell asleep instantly while perched awkwardly on the couch
* * * * *
Chapter 3: Breakfast at Benny’s
Haworth, West Yorkshire, England, Present day.
It was 8.50am and Benny’s breakfast place was half full. Benny opened his diner in 1980 and still worked in the kitchen today. He would say it was half empty. Most Saturday morning’s Matt and Beth would meet for breakfast at Benny’s. They always took the same booth near the Cadillac poster at 9am sharp. The diner looked a little out of place trying to imitate a fifties diner from the USA. It had red leather seats and a lot of shiny metal. The walls were covered in old 45-RPM vinyl records and pictures of the usual icons from the 50’s and 60’s. A large jukebox stood alone and quiet in one corner. It splashed a rainbow of colors and Beth liked to follow the air bubbles racing around the frame providing movement. The American tourists loved this place. It was a little taste of home during their travels. Matt had been coming to Benny’s for years.
When they started to date Matt introduced Beth to his Benny’s ritual. When Beth traveled Matt would still go to Benny’s alone. It was as if his shoes walked here under their own steam. Matt was not a morning person. He always joked that he got up at 7am but did not actually wake up until 10am. He was uncoordinated and groggy until he got his head together. He acted as if he were on autopilot. Lately he seemed really out of it. Beth had noticed his energy levels drop and he started to look a little anemic. He seemed to be mentally disengaged and a bit spacey. This was not just a morning thing; it was starting to be like this throughout the day. This was very uncharacteristic of Matt. Beth chalked it up to his nightmares and a lack of steady sleep. She glanced at her mobile phone again; 8.54am was the message. She stared down at her empty place setting and shook her head from side to side. The diner was still quiet and Matt’s absence was starting to get noticed.
“So where’s pretty boy, he’s almost late?” teased Cheryl the waitress chewing her gum as she spoke. Cheryl was a pleasant soul who knew Beth from the diner and Matt from her school days. She was one of those clueless girls when it came to style and fashion sense. She looked a little out of place in her US styled candy striped waitress uniform. It was tight fitting and short but she had no choice if she wanted this job. The uniform stopped high on her thighs revealing shapely toned legs. Cheryl was a beautiful girl with classic features, long brown shiny hair, deep hazel eyes and a killer mouth. She never went to the gym. She avoided boring repetitive physical exercise yet still had a body most women would kill for. Waiting tables means miles of walking every day. This was a sure way to keep fit, burn calories and get paid for it. Some women were intimidated by Cheryl and did not appreciate the looks she solicited from their partners. At breakfast when you might not be at your best you want the warm-hearted girl next-door type serving your pancakes. Cheryl was far from homely she was a stunner. She had a great sense of humor and the locals loved her. For some reason these feelings were not shared by Beth. Beth always seemed to get a frosty reception from Cheryl but that changed when Matt was around. Beth suspected that Cheryl had a thing for Matt. She had seen them flirt with each other. A woman is pretty sensitive to these things.
“Men, you can’t live with them and you can’t eat without them,” responded Beth in jest. “He said he was going to call and he hasn’t. That’s so typical of a man. Just calling him now to find out where he is. Now that’s always the woman’s job to worry,” said Beth waving her mobile in the air and throwing her comments Cheryl’s way. Beth placed her mobile phone to her ear. Waiting for the connection she glanced upwards at the picture of Marilyn Monroe hanging on the diner wall. “Marilyn Monroe, she was the one who said, I’ve been on a calendar, but never on time.” She could hear the distinctive ringing noise of Matt’s mobile. “Come on Matt, don’t sleep in on me.” Beth received Matt’s familiar voice mail greeting. She prepared to leave a message after the beep. “Matt, wake up. I’m at Benny’s feeling stupid and hungry. Where are you?”
Beth twirled her hair between her fingers; she could feel her anger welling up inside of her. She never liked to feel stupid and out of place. Different thoughts were bombarding her mind but one quote seemed to be on replay. “Everyone is entitled to be stupid, but some abuse the privilege.” This was Matt right now.
The morning was wasted with several phone calls followed by increasingly irritated messages. Beth went through the various stages of irritation, annoyance, really angry and then downright concerned. She had ordered breakfast and completed her meal before entering the concerned stage. Matt was pretty punctual and always phoned if he was going to be late. Beth had called Matt’s home phone and his mobile neither delivering a live response. Cheryl had poked fun at Beth and was obviously enjoying Matt’s no-show. Beth swallo
wed the last drop of cold coffee and reached into her jeans pocket. She grabbed some money and placed it upon the table on top of the bill. She grabbed a glass saltshaker and placed it on top of the money providing a weight. Looking at her mobile phone she shook her head and decided to leave Benny’s alone. Beth grabbed her woolen jacket and moved towards the door. She almost made it out of the diner before the sniping started.
“Have a great day love and try to keep that man of yours on a tight leash.” Cheryl was clearly enjoying sticking the sarcastic knife into what seemed a strong solid relationship.
Beth smiled as a thought flashed through her mind. “Time invested in improving ourselves cuts down on time wasted in disapproving of others.” Beth looked back at Cheryl for a brief moment, “See you later Cheryl, he’s for the high jump that’s for sure.” Beth rolled her eyes and stepped out onto the cobbled streets of Haworth. It was still cool but the rising sun was starting to burn away the overnight mist. A short walk later and Beth was reaching for her keys to enter her cottage. She picked up her phone and called Matt’s home number. After the ringing concluded his cheery voice gave instructions to leave a message after the beep. Beth slammed the receiver down harder than she had intended. The noise startled her and she recognized just how angry she was feeling. She was also concerned and a little scared.
The Skin of the Gods Page 3