Dystopyum (The D-ot Hexalogy Book 1)

by Chris Finkelstein

  Martha then did her LERN meditations. She focused on love, and when finding it, she felt it grow inside her. It is incomprehensible that other people get along without this, she thought. She had as much time as she wanted, and spent a couple of hours “floating”.

  Later in the day, Martha listened to the radio. She turned it off as usual when the propaganda got too thick. “How can intelligent people take this junk seriously?” she asked herself.

  Martha decided to prepare a nice dinner for Griswolt and Jan for when they came home. “I know, I’ll just think nice thoughts about Griswolt all day,” Martha said aloud. I’ve really got to get over this. Griswolt won’t take my problem forever.

  In the early afternoon, Jan came home from school. He was in a hurry to finish his homework, so he stayed in the living room doing it while Martha worked on dinner.

  When Griswolt arrived from work, he was still angry about the morning’s episode. The day at the office was no picnic, either. He was on guard when he came downstairs and into the kitchen. Dinner smelled wonderful, but he wasn’t about to do anything but relax, if he could. He said nothing, and went to the bedroom to change his clothes.

  By the time he came out of the bedroom, Martha was putting dinner on the table. “Jan, come and eat!” Martha called out. She looked at Griswolt, who was just walking through the kitchen. Be nice. “Griswolt, are you hungry?” she asked, as sweetly as she could.

  Griswolt looked at her, trying not to betray his distrust. “Yes, I sure am,” he replied.

  “Well, have a seat, we are almost ready,” she curtly responded.

  She’s ordering me, Griswolt resentfully thought. Oh well, I’d better have a seat.

  Jan came in from the living room, and they sat down to eat. Try as she may, Martha was finding herself annoyed by Griswolt’s chewing sounds. “Could you try to eat like a D’otian, and not like a gendra?” she asked with a terse tone.

  Griswolt had had enough. She was taking another potentially enjoyable moment, and turning it into an attack. He looked at her and said, “Why don’t you shut the hell up, and let me eat in peace?”

  Jan tightened up, anticipating something bad.

  Martha threw her fork at Griswolt, got up, and ran out of the kitchen yelling, “I’ll leave you in peace! This is the thanks I get.” She ran down the hallway to their bedroom, slamming the door behind her.

  Yeah, I’d like to give you more than thanks, bitch, Griswolt thought to himself, as he continued to munch on his dinner.

  Jan had lost his appetite, but Griswolt made him stick around and finish most of his plate.

  Later in the evening, Jan was thinking about what happened during dinner. He wanted to help his mother. Not knowing exactly what to say, he went into her bedroom anyway. She was lying on the bed, reading a magazine. “Can I come in?” he asked.

  “Yes, love,” she responded, “Come up here in bed with me, Jan.”

  He hopped into bed, and snuggled with her. They lay there for a while without saying anything.

  Eventually, Martha put down the magazine with a sigh. “I’m sorry about ruining dinner, Jan,” she said. “I tried. I really, really tried. I prepared all day for it. I don’t know. I feel like this will never change.”

  Jan was thinking. How can I tell her? “I think it will change when you do what I did,” he said.

  Martha turned over in bed, facing Jan, and asked, “What did you do, dear?”

  Jan had mixed feelings. Should I tell her? She won’t believe me. Oh, well. “I was with someone who loves me, and he helped me look at my dragon, and it went away.”

  “What? Who?” Very alert now, Martha propped herself up on her elbow.

  “The Guide,” Jan said, plainly.

  “Who’s the Guide?” Martha asked, suspiciously.

  “He comes to me in my dreams, and talks to me in the day sometimes,” Jan said. “He always helps me, and makes me feel good — like you do.”

  Is he crazy? Martha found herself thinking. Did love-deprogramming school drive him mad? She dismissed the thought. “Oh, Jan, that’s just your childish imagination,” Martha said.

  I knew she wouldn’t believe me, Jan thought. However, he was as persistent as usual, “Just try this, OK? I know you will feel better if you do this, Mama.”

  “What? What do you want me to do?” Martha responded with a sigh.

  “Just look at me and let me love you,” Jan said. “Then, when you are ready, tell me, and I will take you there.”

  Martha shook her head, “Take me where?”

  Jan confidently said, “I’ll tell you when we are ready.”

  Martha was still lying there, facing Jan. She was lost, and her son seemed convinced that he had the answer. What am I doing? Martha thought. She looked into Jan’s deep eyes. He was focusing on her with care and tenderness.

  Jan instinctively started stroking her forehead, lovingly tracing the start of her crest, following down to the ridges above her eyes, and trailing his fingers along her left ear.

  “That tickles,” she giggled.

  He smiled, I love you so much, he thought. He said lowly, “I love you, Mama.”

  “I love you too, sweetheart,” Martha responded, feeling her body relax into the loving comfort of the moment.

  Jan continued his slow stroking of her forehead, and said, “I’ll stay her with you, but you need to look at your dragon now.”

  Martha was not sure what he meant. “How can I look at the dragon?” she asked suspiciously, somehow afraid that he did have an answer.

  “You have to look at your own dragon. You have to remember what happened at the school. I’ll be here with you, OK?” Jan said.

  Martha blinked. “What does the school have to do with the dragon?” she asked.

  “The school raised our dragons.” He paused thoughtfully and then said, “I think the dragons were there already, but the school made them very strong.”

  Martha became anxious. “I’m not going to do that,” she said firmly, feeling the tension rising further. “I need to forget it all, I want to bury it.”

  “But it’s still there. You can’t see it, but it is there. It makes you fight with Daddy,” Jan said. “You have to look at it like I did. You need to have love with you when you do. It was scary at first, but then I laughed,” he said, hoping to sell her on the idea.

  Something about what Jan was saying, crazy as it was, made some sense to Martha. Should I? It’s not getting any better with Griswolt. She lay her head back down, and closed her eyes.

  Jan continued stroking her forehead, and waited.

  Martha went back to feeling the comfort of the loving son she had, trying to help her now. She felt she was ready, and found herself first remembering the stench of the school. Then she was drawn to the face of her torturer. She was surprised that the memory of him did not bother her so much now. Maybe Jan was right about this, she found herself wondering. She started thinking about the horrible photos of Jan. Then she found herself remembering the sexual trauma rapists.

  Her pulse quickened, and in no time she was curling up into a ball, grunting — heart pounding. She sat up in bed with a loud “No!” She looked at Jan, who was startled by her spontaneous reaction.

  I can’t do this. “Look at me, I’m trembling,” Martha complained to Jan, shaking her head. “I can’t do this. You don’t know. Nobody knows what I went through.”

  Jan looked at her. She’s done for now, I think. He sighed. “Can I sleep with you tonight?” he asked.

  Martha broke her line of thought, and looked at him. She rubbed his head and answered, “Sure, you stay with me tonight. I’m tired of sleeping alone anyway.”

  It was getting late, so they turned out the lights on another day, and went to sleep.

  The next morning Martha called in sick again, just so she could work on herself. After Jan and Griswolt left for the day, she spent the morning studying and meditating. She tried to find out more about the dragon, but other than the day before, she
could find nothing practical. There was nothing there about the dragon that she could really understand.

  I still feel as if Jan was on to something yesterday, she thought. Jan had said that she needed to have love with her when she looked into her memories of the torture room. She chuckled. I’m taking the advice of a kid. But what else can I do? What was there left to do with this unworkable situation?

  OK, I’m going start with growing my love. She had a couple of LERN methods to do this. One was the “Love Shower”, in which she imagined being in a shower of water made of love, and as she returned the love to God, it would grow. It took about a half hour to build up steam, but it was effective. Martha soon found herself forgetting her troubles, and “floating” with the presence of love. It made her surroundings seem less real.

  Now’s the time, she thought. She forced her mind to recall that awful room — the torture room. OK, so far so good, I guess. Then she recalled the face of her torturer. His ugly, fat, sore-riddled face readily came to mind. She looked at it — at him. The love is leaving, she thought. Tension was creeping in to replace the love being lost.

  Martha focused on the “Love Shower” again, and it replaced the tension. After re-tuning to a solid love channel, she continued with her attempt. I have got to find my dragon, if there is such a thing — I must continue. This time her mind took her to the aching of her limbs that she experienced when tied to the toilet. Then she recalled her experience of being bound in excruciating positions while being repeatedly raped. They did it over and over, it never stopped, the pain — I never had a chance — stay with me, she found herself silently talking to the love that was with her. Please stay with me. She heard her own inner voice saying, you are here now, this memory is past — the past has no power here. She found she was able to retain the awareness of love’s presence while the stark terror of the torture room seemed to fade from any discernable physical tension. As she did this, she felt better. Lighter.

  Martha started to feel good, and ready to continue. She was surprisingly confident now, and found herself able to face anything from the torture room, without losing the presence of love. I understand! She thought. The whole ordeal, all of the horrible things that happened to me, this is the dragon!

  She went to work with confidence. She sat there and asked herself if there was anything left in the dragon. Every time she asked, another negative memory would appear, and she would stare it down, with love at her side. Martha’s mind eventually took her past the torture room, and carried her to other painful episodes in her life. She looked at those memories too, feeling lighter and more confident with each success. After a few hours of this, she was simply exhausted from the mental exertion, and took a nap.

  She awoke an hour later, feeling like a new person. The room looked brighter, and she was looking forward to Jan and Griswolt coming home. She kept repeating, “I feel wonderful!” throughout the day. “I’m going to make the best dinner!”

  Martha went into the kitchen. “This room is filthy!” she declared to the kitchen. She went and got her cleaning supplies, and started working on it, beginning with the floor. While cleaning the kitchen, Martha thought about the choices for dinner. “Griswolt loves tenderloin of splint,” she said with inspiration. She called the local grocery to have one delivered, along with some fresh bread, yama extract spices, and some yama wine. This evening may turn into a romantic one, she thought with a smile.

  Martha had it all planned out. She could not wait for Griswolt to come home. “I miss him so much,” she thought, as if she had not seen him in a year. “You’ve been so good, I know it has been hard for you,” she said aloud to her image of Griswolt.

  When Jan came home later in the day, Martha greeted him with an enthusiasm that set him back a moment. Then he realized that it was real, and his mama was truly home now. The tenderloin was roasting in the oven, and had a tantalizing smell. Jan was in the living room doing his homework when his dad came home.

  Griswolt descended the stairs and came into the kitchen pretty much like any other day. Martha was in the bathroom when he arrived. He noticed the smell of the cleaning detergent Martha had used on the floor and cabinets, and realized that the kitchen was sparkling. Then he took a peek in the oven, and saw the tenderloin, looking and smelling fantastic. “Harrumph,” he grunted. “Another meal to ruin with your company today,” he said to an absent Martha.

  He then went into the living room to see Jan. “Hello, son,” he said. “How was your day?”

  Jan looked up from the homework he was doing on the floor. “It was really good!” he replied. “I can’t wait till dinner. Mama’s in a good mood today!” He was hoping with all his heart that they would not fight today.

  Martha came out of the bathroom and checked on the roast. Then she went into the living room where the other two were, Griswolt now sitting on the sofa. “Hi Griswolt,” she said with a smile that took him by surprise. “I made a nice dinner for us tonight.”

  “So I see,” said Griswolt, warily.

  Martha went right up to Griswolt and shocked him by bending over and giving him a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “I am so sorry for the way I have been, dear,” she said to an astonished Griswolt.

  He in fact tightened at her touch. She puts me through hell for a solid month, and I’m supposed to act like everything is normal? Then he realized what he had just thought. The horrible month she had subjected him to was not remotely close to the month of hell in the torture room she had experienced. Still —

  Martha sensed the obvious emotional distance that Griswolt had. It did not dissuade her. She smiled pleasantly and said, “I’ll go back to my cooking. You two can have fun in here.”

  They both watched this new person walk out of the living room and into the kitchen. Griswolt looked as if he were in a trance. He kept staring towards the kitchen after she left. He looked confused.

  Jan silently watched the scene, studying his father’s reaction. “I think she’s getting better,” he offered to his dad.

  Griswolt blinked and shook his head, as if Jan just woke him up. “We’ll see, he said.” It was too good to believe. Nobody changes overnight, he thought to himself.

  The dinner was actually quite nice. Martha tried to make small talk, but Griswolt just passively went along with it. Something’s going to go wrong, Griswolt kept thinking to himself.

  After dinner, while still at the table, Martha brought out the yama wine, chilled and ready to go.

  Griswolt felt like he was being trapped. Maybe she wants to get me drunk so she can kill me, he thought.

  Martha could see that she was getting nowhere with Griswolt. I know what he likes, she thought, and she got up to rub his shoulders from behind. “Here dear, you look so tense. Let me —”

  Griswolt jumped out of his chair as she put her hands to his upper shoulders to massage them. “Don’t! Just don’t,” he barked, shaking his head. He backed away from the table, and moved to another part of the kitchen. He looked at her in confusion and anger. “How — how do I know you won’t stab me?”

  Martha looked at him, and was tempted to respond in kind. Because if I wanted to stab you I would have done it already, you idiot! These thoughts and others came immediately to her mind, but she was keeping them to herself now. I won’t let my dragon rise, she thought to herself. Martha took a deep breath, and said, “I’m feeling much better, Griswolt, and I wanted to share it with you.”

  Griswolt believed her for a moment, and then spat out, “Share it with yourself! I’ve been living without it for a month now. I don’t need it now, and I don’t need you!” He left the kitchen in a huff, and went back to the bedroom, as he had not changed out of his uniform yet.

  As soon as he was out of the kitchen, Martha found herself fuming. “Of all the ungrateful — I should have stabbed him,” she said, gritting her teeth. She found herself looking at a knife on the table, and got a mental flash of grabbing it, and running into the bedroom to stick it into Griswolt. Then she re
alized the dragon had indeed been raised. Shit! I’ve lost it. Help me, please, she prayed silently. The dragon started to subside.

  It was then that Martha realized, Griswolt has a dragon of his own. She muttered, “With what I’ve put him through this month —”

  She looked at Jan, who had been observing the entire episode. “Jan, what do we do about Daddy’s dragon?” The absurdity that she was asking a child crossed her mind. “I can’t tell him about love, so what do I do?” She was not really expecting an answer, but she received one.

  Jan looked at her thoughtfully. “Dad’s been pushing his dragon down, because if his dragon rose, you both would be crazy, and something even worse would happen here.” He paused to think and said, “Now that your dragon is smaller, his dragon can rise without fear of disaster. His dragon can get even now.”

  Martha stared at Jan in amazement. “How do you come up with these things?” she asked incredulously.

  Jan shrugged his shoulders, “It just makes sense. I see it,” he said. He went back to picking at what was left on his plate.

  Martha studied him. He seemed to know what he was saying. I took his advice, and it helped me today, she thought. “Do you have any idea about how we can bring Daddy’s dragon down?” she asked.

  Jan thought about it. “Love,” he said. “You can use love for Daddy, since he can’t use it for himself.” He chewed on another bite. “It won’t help right away, but it will help.” Jan mused a bit more, and then he said, “His dragon will come back at you at first. Then he’ll stop the dragon, because he really loves you.” He looked at Martha and smiled. “He’ll love you again, and his dragon will get weaker.”

  Martha was sitting with her mouth agape, in a daze. She gazed at Jan, who was still nibbling, wondering. He made so much sense — it seemed so simple. Was it true? Am I just listening to the simple ramblings of a child? It seems so right. What else can I do?

  “Jan, I need you to help me with this, OK?”

  Jan looked up at her, “Sure Mama, I already know what I need to do.”