Nightmare Ballad

by Benjamin Kane Ethridge

  Dara hoped tonight the kids weren’t too wired.

  She wanted to look forward to this evening out with Maribel and Luke. Since bursting through that black curtain in the board room, tense, ever-fidgeting and on-edge, she’d lived her life, and being around a bunch of hyperactive school kids sure didn’t sound like a cure. Maribel counted on their support and so she didn’t hesitate…it would just make things so much easier if Dara could explain everything to her and Luke, without sounding extremely delusional and disturbed.

  Luke had a phone conversation earlier with his friend Blake, and through all Luke’s placations, it boiled down to this: the company had no intentions of hiring her now. That was just Blake’s insight, but it was probably a good one. The bright side was that Luke’s transfer to the satellite position for the San Francisco office would most likely move forward. He just needed to keep his head down and lay low during the Los Angeles proceedings.

  If they could all eventually move up north…would the nightmares follow them?

  It might have been foolishly optimistic, but one thing Dara could bank on now was having more control if she remembered the music again. The purple bug had given her that control—a lucidity touchstone, a term that became embedded in her mind, perhaps from the song itself. The nightmare—Lifemare—could still have its way with Dara and the world around her, but at least she knew that next time she’d be looking for a way out, she’d understand that reality had shifted, and wouldn’t be drifting along, accepting everything like before.

  Facing the vanity mirror, she licked her dry lips, and a troubling thought crossed her mind. What if it’ll be worse now that I know?

  Ignorance might have shielded her from the worst.

  She went looking for her lime chapstick in her makeup bag, hoping that Maribel hadn’t borrowed it and forgotten to put it back where it belonged.

  Depression set in as she looked again in the mirror. She really didn’t want to be around kids right now. Staying home, getting back to strategizing for her Orchish army in the Dragon God game that had long since gone stale; it was waiting for her, there on her hard drive, waiting to get her locked in and addicted again…

  That’s going backwards. You were supposed to get that job. Now, by some strange stroke of bizarre luck, if you do get it, you’re going to be remembered as the woman who showed up with her boobs hanging out. It’d only be slightly worse than the high school locker room. “Double-Dee-Dee. Double-Dee-Dee. All that fat went to your chest—where’s your ass?”

  She considered how the nightmare incident would affect the rumors about them and Maribel. Poor Luke was going to have his hands fuller than they’d ever been.

  “Jesus Christ,” she whispered, giving up on her search. She checked her hair. It had no body at all, just silken, bleach-blonde bullshit. I love your unicorn mane, Maribel always told her. Dara smiled, but it instantly faded at the sound of Luke rummaging through the closet. He’d already tried on a few pairs of shoes, but his feet still ached badly from the burns. He’d been running in the street without shoes…those frogmen…what might have happened if they’d dragged Luke under like the rest of the people in the pool? Would the nightmare have ended when he did?

  Dara shook her head fiercely, rejecting the idea of her husband dying.

  If it wasn’t going to be this job, she would instead figure out this Lifemare thing, bring it to Luke’s attention, somehow.

  Was it happening other places? Maybe they could both bring it to the world’s attention?

  A flaccid knock came at the front door.

  “Can you get that, honey?” mumbled Luke. “I’m…I’m going to try these loafers again.”

  “Yeah, hon.”

  Dara moved down the hall, through the living room, to the front door. For probably the first time ever, she didn’t dread the idea of it being Johnny Cruz. She’d like to ask him what he remembered from that bar. Never mind he’d behave like the whole thing somehow happened within the boundaries of real life; whatever he could supply would be more than she had now.

  The door’s hinges chirped as it swung open. Petunia Stedding stood on the porch in her drab yellow nightgown. Her eyes held Dara, wildly moving, but her body was perfectly still. A mountain bike lay in the grass behind her.

  It took a moment for Dara to find any words. “Hello. How…how are you doing, Petunia? I’m so….” Dara put her hand to her chest, feeling all the emotion welling up. “I’m so sorry to hear what happened...we’ve been thinking about your parents all the time.”

  Petunia stared at her, through her. “I can see the curtain.”

  She couldn’t mean…she was there, though.

  “I know his whole life,” said Petunia.

  Dara swallowed and her spine stiffened. “Whose, dear?”

  “Mr. Rhodes’. After I touched the ducky. I wasn’t supposed to, but it made me come awake inside it, and after it ended, the song’s been playing nonstop in my head. Pieces are missing—I’ll never hear them, but Mr. Rhodes can.” She tilted her head and her brow knitted. “You can hear it, too, can’t you?”

  “Petunia….”

  “I don’t want to hear the ballad anymore. It pushed a key inside me, but it doesn’t fit like it would with Mr. Rhodes. The key twisted but there’s nothing to unlock. I feel caught between both places right now—I don’t belong here and I don’t belong in the bad dream. I’m an alien invading a strange place...until the key is pulled out and put where it belongs. I don’t want to hurt Mr. Rhodes. I think I should hurt myself.”

  “No,” Dara said, beginning to step toward the teenager, but then she thought better of it. This was the part when the crazy girl plunged a knife between your ribs. “Don’t hurt yourself. Is there a way to make this better? What can we do?”

  A PT Cruiser quickly pulled into the driveway. The parking brake chirped and a door swung open.

  “I want to be released,” said Petunia. “Mr. Rhodes has to find his touchstone again.”

  Lucidity touchstone.

  Someone came around the corner. Petunia’s grandmother, out of breath, in her bathrobe with a long gray raincoat flowing over it. “God, has she done anything? I had a feeling she’d come here.” The older woman rushed up and caught Petunia around her stomach and dragged her back.

  “We were just talking,” Dara told her.

  “She’s really, really upset.”

  “Get him to touch it,” Petunia begged. “I don’t want it inside my head anymore. I’ll tear my brain out!”

  “I’m terribly sorry about this. We have to collect her father’s car keys and other things from his office at the plant, and I think the idea of going there just got the best of her. I can’t let her out of my sight or I’d go alone. Tomorrow, we’re on our way to the behavioral center, and we’re getting help. Aren’t we, Petunia? We’re going to get you better. I’m so sorry, Mrs. Rhodes. Please understand.”

  “No, I understand.”

  Luke slowly limped up behind her.

  “We understand,” added Dara.

  Petunia caught sight of him. “Mr. Rhodes! They aren’t dreams! They’re real! Mr. Rhodes you need to find that duck again!”

  “Hush now,” her grandmother told her, lightly putting a hand over her mouth. Petunia moved her face away with a growl.

  “Please let us know if we can help,” said Luke.

  The old woman feebly nodded. “I’ll come by later for her bike, if that’s okay.”

  “No worries. I’ll put it in the garage for whenever you’re ready for it,” said Luke with a faint smile.

  Petunia was carefully put into the silver PT Cruiser. The grandmother locked the door for the short duration of walking around to the driver’s side. After a moment, they were gone, and Dara was left on the porch with Luke.

  Luke buttoned his shirt carefully. “She’s so disturbed now. Poor thing. I feel like I should do more. I don’t know what though.”

  “Do you remember a rubber ducky in the pool that day?” Dara asked.<
br />
  He reared his head back abruptly, taken aback. He twisted his mouth to the side in thought. “I think there was one, yeah. A red one. Petunia mentioned it when she called for help that day.”

  “Have you ever touched it?”

  Luke looked at her and simpered. “The duck? What are you talking about?”

  “I think it’s important.”

  He shook his head and hobbled back inside to the kitchen. “How could that be important? Damn, my feet hurt. I think some more aloe vera might do the trick.”

  “I’ve wanted to tell you…I don’t know how to explain it though, not without you thinking I’m a nut.”

  “Is this about what happened at the interview?”

  “Yes, but also what happened at the pool that day. The weird thing that happened to me, I think happened to you, too.”

  “You weren’t there. How could you know?”

  “It all feels the same. I think Johnny might be involved, too. I ran into him…before the interview.”

  “Weird.”

  “Right?”

  “Yeah, I can’t believe Johnny was up at that early, even on a work day.”

  “You should call him. See where he is. Just to make sure he’s okay.”

  Luke snorted. “Never thought I’d hear that from you.”

  “He might be in trouble.”

  “When isn’t he? I don’t have time to get wrapped up in Johnny right now. We have a schedule to keep. We’re going to be late for the music class, and Maribel needs our help more this year than ever.” He opened the refrigerator and got a mini-can of Coke Zero.

  “Call Johnny just to make sure. Please.”

  With a gentle sigh, Luke slid out his cell, found the number, and called. He waited, searching the ceiling. The light shone down on his upturned, handsome face, making him an image of a disinclined hero. “Not answering,” he said and ended the call.

  Dara leaned into the counter with a groan.

  “I can go looking for him after Maribel’s thing.”

  “Maybe you should skip. Go now.”

  Luke lifted his eyebrows. “Uh...no. Johnny’s not top priority. You gals are.”

  Dara went silent as Luke popped the can and killed his soft drink in one tug. With a satisfied sigh, he tossed the can in the recycle bin. Stepping to meet her, he embraced her and kissed her neck. “You smell wonderful.”

  “Thanks,” she answered quietly.

  He gently pulled her face to his. They were nose to nose. “I promise to take care of everything when we get back. Whatever you want, I’ll do it. Rescue Johnny. Touch a duck. Anything.”

  Dara burst out laughing. “Ass.”

  Luke grinned. “Better make ourselves scarce.”

  Despite the intense sunshine reflecting off the dirt-smudged windshield, the vibrant jazz on the radio, the icy rumble of the air conditioner, the trip across town completely exhausted Dara. Her husband drove like a man in a trance, occasionally breaking from it to wince at his scorched feet pressing the brake. She should have offered to drive—hadn’t even thought about it.

  The private elementary-school parking lot had no available spots. Seeing all these people cast a pall of dread over Dara’s already sour mood. Luke wheeled out of the lot and pulled along the curb.

  He studied her “You really don’t want to be here, do you? Is this still about Johnny?”

  “No. I’ll be fine.”

  “I wanted to tell you, but I hoped you wouldn’t be mad….”

  “What?”

  “That call from Blake was in response to Maribel. She went down there and chewed out the board of directors.”

  “Are you kidding?” Dara’s face filled with hot blood. “Why’d she do that?”

  Luke gripped the steering wheel hard and looked up. “Honestly? I think it’s because she knew I couldn’t.”

  It was Dara’s turn to study him. “Neither of you have faith in me, do you?”

  “That’s not it.”

  “There are other jobs out there. Screw that job.”

  “We can’t stand the idea of anybody humiliating you. Most people in that office are out to get all of us.”

  “I’m the one who showed up without a blouse.”

  “Can’t wrap my mind around that yet,” he said, shaking his head. “You must be leaving something out of the story. How do you lose your blouse?”

  “I imagined putting it on. When I left the house, I wasn’t in the right frame of…mind.”

  “How does that happen? Did you eat a mushroom or something? Jesus, Dara.”

  She scrubbed at her face, then stopped, fearing to smear her makeup every which way. “You won’t understand. You can’t understand. Not until….”

  “I touch the duck?” The joke from last time wasn’t in his face now. Deep concern had replaced it. “You really think the pool and the interview share something? How could they? You’re starting to sound like Petunia, and that’s freaking me the hell out. Dara, wait—”

  She got out of the car. Luke hastily put up the sun shade and followed. The car’s alarm beeped as he shambled up to her, grimacing. “Well, don’t take me the wrong way. However it happened—I wish I could have been there. Stobecker probably crossed himself and fainted.”

  His nervous laugh elicited a smile from her. He took her hand as she stepped up on the sidewalk, and then, with her standing above him, he wrapped his arms around her tightly. She smoothed his thick dark brown hair and squeezed his neck. “As bad as that was…it changed something about me. I wish I could only be worried about my weight now.”

  That grin again, less bright, but trying. “Don’t tell me you want another surgery.”

  “I love you so much, Luke.”

  “I love you too, honey.”

  She held him close to her chest for a moment. “You haven’t been hearing music have you?”

  “Have they begun?” Luke stepped up onto the sidewalk and started inside the small multi-purpose room.

  That’s not what I meant.

  Dara trailed after him. Inside the small auditorium, a few Kindergarten classes, including Maribel’s, ran around wildly with recorders and small bongo drums. Dara and Luke hadn’t gotten far inside when a stressed-out Maribel approached, pushing a key into Luke’s hands. “Can you go to my classroom and get my whistle?”

  A Chinese boy nearly crashed into Maribel’s leg. “Mrs. Rhodes, Mrs. Rhodes, Mrs. Rhodes.”

  “Yes, Victor?”

  “Have you been to Puppet Town?”

  “I know every inch of Puppet Town—that’s our annual field trip.”

  “What’s a field tip?”

  “Go to your number along the wall, Victor. We’re going to start soon.”

  Victor cracked a gap-toothed smile and rushed playfully back into the confusion, taking the longest route to the wall possible.

  Maribel brushed errant strands of her chocolate hair from her eyes. “Where was I?”

  “Your whistle?” Dara laughed.

  “It’s either in my desk or in the cabinets by the window—the key for those are in my desk. Luke, I need the bass drum. It’s too awkward for me to carry. If you see Allie, tell her I need her right now, not next week. She’s always fooling around with the equipment when I need her help.”

  “Sure,” said Dara.

  Luke touched Maribel’s face. “Remain calm.”

  A flicker of disgust and Maribel returned to the chaos, asking kids to find their places.

  “Sure you don’t want to be a teacher?” Luke asked Dara.

  “Ha-ha.”

  They walked outside and took the brutal hill leading up to the kindergarten room. From here they could see into San Bernardino, the bare brown mountains, the tapestry of freeways, streets, red-tiled rooftops and dull green treetops squeezed into every available spot between buildings. Dara gazed at the view, trying to sound less out of breath than she was, anticipating the fitness lecture she’d get from Luke. Her eyes caught sight of the immense shape standing out o
n the sun, highlighted by a sky with less haze and smog than usual. She halted and blinked.

  Had the nightmare returned?

  It didn’t feel like it.

  Reality had remained stable…so why was she seeing the black curtain out there?

  “Do you see that? That curtain out there?”

  Luke followed where she looked. “Hmmm. Yeah. Weird.”

  That was it; that was all; he was about to start walking away again.

  “Wait—just ‘weird’? That’s all you’re going to say? There’s a friggin’ curtain hanging from the sky, coming all the way down to the ground.”

  “It’s very pretty. We better fetch those things before Maribel loses it.”

  Dara gave up and accompanied him to the room. If that wasn’t the curtain to her nightmare, then whose nightmare was it then?

  Near the cabinets the teacher’s aide, Allie Banks, was bent over, rummaging around. On seeing Luke and Dara, she locked the cabinet doors and returned the key to Maribel’s desk. She gave them a cool stare and folded her arms. Allie had never hidden her disdain for them. She’d even gone to the principal and told him the relationship would be misunderstood by the children. It wasn’t difficult for Maribel to win the principal back, however. He was a gay man, not in the closet, but increasingly private about his own life. So he viewed moral whistleblowers like Allie with the contempt they deserved. On top of that, Maribel had received teacher of the district the last two years now, and had come close to state recognition—she was the star of their school, and it was easy for the principal to wave off Allie’s single-minded protests.

  But they still had to deal with her.

  “You guys can’t be in here without an employee of the school,” she stated.

  Luke stepped inside the room. “You’re in here, right? We need the whistle and the bass drum.”

  “I have to get going. I can’t stick around.”

  “You’re right,” said Dara. “Maribel was looking for you.”

  Allie’s eyes shifted. She had a narrow, puppy-like face, which wasn’t ugly or even homely, yet wasn’t allowed to be attractive with all her scowling. “Is it starting already?”

  “Yep.”