by Jacob Spadt
I turned just in time to see a huge figure swinging two weapons at my head and I felt a slash through my throat. My hands instinctively went up. Sticky moisture flowed from a fresh wound. I was in disbelief. The large figure loomed in and I was shocked at what I saw. All attempts to breathe or speak became difficult; then a deep voice rumbled in my mind.
“You must be destroyed to rise again.” I felt my head fall away from my body toppling end over end as it fell. The bed was still above me as I repeatedly lost sight of it. All faded from view slowly. Senses cut off completely as if something had truly disconnected my head.
I awoke to find my hands holding my throat and I could not draw breath. Adrenaline surged through me. Machines giving off alerts rang out. My vision was blurred and convulsions rolled through my body. A door to the room opened with a loud crash. Foot falls. Darkness was closing in and I felt the pins and needles set in from lack of oxygen.
The last thing I remember were multiple hands seizing me. I do not know if I passed out or they drugged me. Everything went black.
XXIII
Jason
“And they tell me I’m scrawny.”
The words hit me from a dead sleep. A man stood in front of me. I had been sleeping on my side since the atrophy, which made it hard to sit upright. It still hurt to focus quickly on anything, so it took a moment to adjust. The beard looked familiar; I had seen it just a few days earlier. At first I thought it might have been my stepfather. But wait, could it be Jason?
“Man you look like hell. What are they feeding you here?” he said with a knowing grin. That was just his way. I lay there rubbing my eyes to get a better look at him. He was dressed the same as always. His Levi’s were faded and his plaid shirt untucked. Fashion never really held sway over either of us. I was happy to see he was still a non-conformist.
I took a long look at him. His brown hair, slightly curly and unmanaged, hung at various lengths around his head. I did not know what kind of a hairstyle it was, but my reaction was to burst out in laughter. My body convulsed for a moment in a wheezing cough, and he began to laugh too. He did not care; he never did.
“Man, you are a welcomed sight. I haven’t seen anyone familiar since I woke up.” My voice stammered, trying to keep the emotions in check. Even though it seemed like yesterday to me, I knew it had many years since we had seen each other. He smelled of the outside. The scent of flowers, trees, and many other creatures rolled off him in waves. I drank it all in. Something about it made me long to run outside and head for the nearest woods. His jeans bore the effects of his job. The desire to be free of this place suddenly rose inside me.
He must have seen my expression because he offered up an explanation. “I’m a landscaper,” he shamefully replied. “I work for my dad since I have a hard time keeping a job.”
The puzzlement returned to my face. Apparently, he was used to judgements for his profession. I looked him over again and smiled, still the same person. My thoughts spun like a top just released from its string. I did not know where to begin. So much time had passed, and he must have a lot of stories to tell. Of course, my interest would be in one topic.
“Have a seat.” I motioned to the chair the doctor sits in. “I need to know something. What do you remember about that night?”
His thoughts replayed that night in his mind. The doubt, the guilt, all of it lumped into one expression: pain. He began to shift in his chair as if the mere thought of it brought him back to everything he had experienced. I could see his uneasiness. The silence spoke volumes.
“You never told anyone, did you?” I asked, knowing the answer but wanting to hear him say it. His eyes were pleading for me to not ask anymore question regarding that day. He had to know we both saw it. I continued.
“Jason, we both know what we saw. I remember. It saved your life. Why this fear of acknowledging it? We saw a Bigfoot, a Sasquatch!” There, it came out. Jason seemed to be hanging on my every word as I laboriously got them out.
Tension hung in the room; then I felt it wane finally. I had broken the ice. It felt like the torrential rain had been building up behind a dam inside him. It broke and the conversation flowed forth.
“I know what we saw. I awoke to see it standing over you. You were knocked out. It touched you. The folks that arrived at the scene must not have seen him, or it, whatever the hell it was.” The worried look remained in his eyes.
His words did not make sense. I remembered the couple that found us. I could still see them. How they were there and failed to see what Jason saw defied logic.
“I didn’t tell anyone because they would never believe me...living these past six years thinking it did something to you...and I have hunted it ever since.” He put his head in his hands. The gentle rise and fall of his shoulders followed by a few almost inaudible sobs broke the silence. I knew how he felt.
Suddenly a word he had said hit me. He had been hunting a creature that no one could prove existed. A wave of pity washed over me and for a moment I thought he was serious. There was no way he could hunt the creature. It did not leave any tracks and no one has ever even found a body. I suddenly had a thought come to my mind out of nowhere. Could Bigfoot hide himself from the world? A camouflage perhaps? It was far-fetched, but would make sense since a couple stood right next to him unaware he was there. I decided to share my thoughts.
“Jason, what if there was more to Bigfoot than meets the eye?”
He chuckled for a moment and gave me the ‘duh’ look. I felt stupid for a moment then decided to rephrase. “I mean what if he could cloak himself somehow? Think about it. Thousands of years and no one has ever found a body. That has to account for something.”
He nodded and slipped into deep thought for a minute or two while we sat there. He had taken his head out of his hand a few moments earlier to give me the idiot look. Apparently my theory held water to him and he began to nod continuously. The excitement seemed to mount in the room. He jumped up and began to pace the room. I wished I could pace. Hell, I could barely sit up. I felt a tinge of jealousy wash over me.
“What if it’s magical like a demon?” he quipped, still pacing erratically.
“I don’t think that’s the case. It lifted the car off of you!” I piped in. Knowing full well what I saw, and feeling the need to prove it, I continued. “You know you were under the car, it lifted it right up and off you. Then picked it you up and brought you over to me. How does that qualify as a daemon?”
"Why are you saying daemon? It's pronounced DEMON."
"I think there is a difference...Moving on.”
"You had a concussion. You didn't see straight. Why would it lift the car off me?” he responded, clearly not ready to give up his witch-hunt. “Maybe it was sizing us up to see whom to eat first?”
“That is ridicules, I....”
“Why, just because you say it happened does not make it the case. You almost died because it that thing.” He was clearly getting emotional so I decided to redirect the conversation. I did not want to press the issue any further. He obviously had not had a chance to work through any of it since he was so hell bent on revenge. Years of hating have a way of twisting you. I understood this more than he knew because of my step dad. It was not healthy, but Jason would have to learn that for himself. No one can teach you that.
I thought hard for a moment on something else he could turn his focus to. His home situation was not much better growing up. Granted, that must have changed over time. “So why are you working for your dad? You used to hate him,” I sad.
“Cause I dropped out of school and was obsessed with finding the creature. I was cutting classes and sneaking out even more than usual.”
I looked at him with raised eyebrows.
“So you are you serious, you actually hunt him?” I asked.
“Yes,” he said simply. I decided to drop it. I did not truly grasp why he was taking on this fool’s quest. He would never find it. There was a long pause and silence threatened the room f
or a moment.
“I can’t get a better job till I get my General Education Diploma. Besides, the old man pays decent and I can make my own hours.”
“Cool.”
“Yeah, it’s not bad, if you don’t mind doing laundry. I still live at home too. My parents might not like it that much, but they feel the need to watch over me. They claim I am unstable because I go hunting for days at a time. They do not know that I park my car off the road and walk back home and enter the woods there. I figured the scene of the crime is the best place to start.”
We both laughed. It still hurt, but I managed to let go for a moment. The mood seemed to lighten; he continued to fill me in on what was going on in the world. There were so many wars to hear about. The Middle East was still brewing as it had been before my coma. The only difference was neither Jason nor I would have cared what happened over there back then. The Gulf War had been over for two years, but it never truly ended. Now that we were older it seemed to affect him more. I still felt young, but something in me tuned into what he was telling me.
We sat there taking everything in for several hours. The nurse brought in my meal at noon. I kept looking at the clock, expecting my mother to walk in at any moment. Hating to admit I might have been nervous, I changed the subject a few times whenever it steered around or close to the subject of Mom. It was strange that she was not there yet. One would have thought her son coming out of a six-year coma, especially a coma this strange and mysterious, would have brought her down that very hour. Harborview Hospital was not real close to home, but also not that far. I was nervous.
Five o’clock rolled around and Jason and I were not even close to being finished talking. We had covered everything from his eccentric girlfriend to popular new music. The transformation of rock ‘n’ roll into this grunge seemed weird until I listened to some of it. It was different but catchy. He let me hear some of it on his Walkman. It had a dark sound and I liked it. It was already starting to grow on me when the doctor came in.
He stood there silently looking at me. I had a smile on my face from talking with Jason. It had been a full day of remembrance of old times and schemes to come. I was really looking forward to getting back on my feet, literally. There was a darkness hanging over the doctor. It was as if he stood underneath a cloud in a comic, which seemed to follow him around the room. I was kind of surprised that he had not spoken yet. I looked at Jason and motioned for him to stop in mid-sentence.
“Doc, what’s up?” I paused for a moment as Jason started to crack up before realizing what I almost said. My head shook slowly side-to-side with laughter, trying very hard not to move too much. Glancing up at the shrink again we both noticed he was not smiling. In fact, his face looked very grave.
“Did I fail one of my tests? I jested. I figured Jason would get that one. He was already laughing. I started to wonder if he was using drugs with how hard and easily he was laughing. The doctors’ face stayed the same. I got a bad feeling suddenly. Jason took one look at me and realized there was something amiss. “Okay doc, what’s wrong? I have not seen my friend in a long time. Why the long face?”
He took a deep breath and stepped over to the bed.
“I have some bad news Dieter, I am very sorry to have to be the one to tell you this. Your family was in a car accident on the way to the hospital. There were no survivors. I am sorry,” he said.
I froze. Jason stared at me, as I looked the doctor square in the face. “What is this, some sort of sick joke?” My voice was yelling. I had no control. Everything shook. Each moment was more intense than the last. A primal rage tore open something inside of me. My chest felt tight and it was hard to breath.
“Doc, do something!” Jason yelled amidst the pounding of feet. My vision went blurry but not before I saw Eryn enter the room followed by the doctor who reminded me of Broom Hilda. Hands began to force me down in the bed. I fought back unintentionally. I must have launched someone across the room. A thundering crash echoed in the hall. It was impossible to focus. Light got dark real fast. The bed spun. My right hand held onto the edge of the bed...squeezing...when the rage got free.
An inhuman, animal-like yell escaped my lips. Energy released all around me. The only way to describe it is raw power. It tore from my very soul and burst outward in all directions. My right hand pulled hard and I felt the metal rail move and groan in protest. A snapping sound followed by a gasp.
“Oh my God, he tore the metal railing off the bed!” Eryn yelled. “Sedate him, Doctor!” I heard the railing clatter to the floor as my body raised from the bed; the nurses forced me back down. I felt a pinch in my one arm, then cooling sensation rolling up to my chest. Euphoria hit me sideways, and I felt myself disconnect from my body and it would no longer respond. I wanted to kill them all and would have tried had I been able to move my arms. The power was stronger than anything imagined. The desire to destroy everything in the room obsessed me. I felt unstoppable. I did not want to lose this feeling.
I was like a god.
XXIV
Misunderstood
Confinement was killing me.
Three weeks had passed; although I do not know how accurate my count was. I was in restraints, tied to my bed following my performance given after the ill-fated news. They were gone, dead. It was a sick irony. This happened the very day my parents were set to arrive. I was alone and did not know what to feel. It felt like only a few days had passed since the accident. I was experiencing sensory overload. Everything had changed. A small twinge of emotional pain let me know it was still there, locking me down. The irony hit me again as my physical restraints seemed to match emotional restraints.
I tried to look over the straps a few days before. Thick leather encompassed my wrists and had some sort of locking mechanism on both sides. There was no undoing them. They immobilized my head...but it could turn slightly. My feet had the same lack of motion. Apparently they felt I was a threat. My recollection of the rage was minimal, as though my very soul had disconnected from my memory of the event.
Every few hours someone came in with a bedpan for obvious reason. My robe was more like a poncho. It was clear they did not want to look at much of me either, except when they had to.
At least they were feeding me real food. Eryn came in three times a day to spoon-feed me. It was not very good food but it was edible – your typical mystery meat with surprise. She supplied and I ate. The conversation took a turn, and she shared with me my actions had injured several orderlies. Although I could not remember, the guilt was heavy. Last thing recalled was the bed section breaking off in my grasp. Eryn told me that even though unconscious, my actions continued to hurt many of the staff. I felt shame.
It did not make sense that I was such a threat, or that I did the things that Eryn recanted. The strength part was about the only real aspect that I could quantify. Adrenaline was something you heard stories about as a child. Feats of strength that allowed a woman to roll a car off her baby or some craziness were always my favorite. At least it had a good ending. Apparently I was zero for two in the assault category now. Security stood outside my room.
Eryn’s presence became my sanity. She kept it professional, though. Her previous warmth was missing. I tried to guard my feelings and emotions. I was not scared while I was near her, but she saw right through it. Not only was I worried about what was to come but also of how it felt when she was near me. She was so beautiful and funny that the feeling of being almost normal started to become part of our interaction…aside from my being strapped to a bed. Our conversations were light hearted. She asked me about where I grew up and what my childhood had been like. I did not have much to say, but her eyes spoke volumes. She might have been looking for possible reasons for the rage.
The truth was simple but unhappy. I spoke of my desire to explore the countryside with my closest friend. She had met Jason the other day when things went sideways. He did not stay long. They told him to go home.
Her visits that occurred several tim
es a day as she made her rounds gave me something to look forward to since Jason left. They barely let him in the first time he came to see me in restraints. When the door opened the day of his arrival, one of the orderlies referred to me as a freak. The comment stung. All I could think about was ripping another bar off the bed and clubbing him with it. The thought brought a smile to my face. Jason seemed to be more upset about it than I was. If he knew my thoughts, he might have been more worried. He told the orderly it was inappropriate and must have given him some sort of stare that made him back off because I did not hear another word...only the door close.
Jason came in and sat down on the only other piece of furniture in the room off to my right. He moved the chair next to me. We sat in silence, grim looks, and all. He was very disturbed by the recent events. I could tell he had not slept from the drifting look in his eyes. Silence continued for quite a while. Humor usually broke the tension in awkward situations. This was definitely one of those moments. Next I had to think of what to say.
“So what do you think of my new suit?" I jested. Silence hung in the room like a wet sweater. I pressed my luck. “I asked the doctor for a red one and threatened that if he did not give it to me, I'd use my own blood." I knew the last part was over the top, but it worked; he sat upright and stared at me intensely.
“How can you joke around?" he began, "Your mother is dead and you have no place to go! I even asked my father if you could stay with us. He said no way.”
“In case you failed to notice I am getting fed and have a bed to sleep in. I am the one in here, and if I can take it, you can take it.”