“Jayme…”
Her eyes fluttered a bit as she strained to fight the deep sleep she was in.
“Jayme, dear…”
Someone is calling my name…
She rose slowly, rubbing her eye. In a state of confusion she looked at the foot of the bed, trying her hardest to make out the image.
“Oh my God!” She clutched her pale pink pajama top with a balled fist as she glared at the image before her, now clear as day, as clear as the glass in her windows… and the soft, vanilla-scented perfume worn by one person, and one person only.
“Jayme, baby…I’m back.”
She trembled, unsure what to do, what to say. An avalanche of emotions bubbled within her — confusion, joy, and turmoil.
“I must be dreaming! But I’m wide-awake. I can really see you! It can’t be…but it is…Grandma?!”
****
Zachary had never seen so many computers, contraptions, monitors and dead bodies in his life. He’d overheard Daddy talking a time or two about such things, but it was different seeing it up close and personal. He took tiny steps, looking here and there, his curiosity piqued. He reached for the arm of one cadaver, but heard a gentle, “No, no, Zachary. You mustn’t touch anything.”
He knew what was hidden under the sheet — a deceased Zarkstormian. He had trouble finding the words, to say it just right, but inside of his mind, he knew so much. At times, he felt trapped in his own body, and it was frustrating. He understood almost everything said to him from his parents, but voicing his responses was a daunting task. Nevertheless, he was enjoying himself on his father’s planet. He continued to peruse the area, the scientists, men and women, his father’s people walking around with very serious expressions on their faces. They all had something in common with Daddy, but he couldn’t quite figure out what it was. Yes…it was the way they moved.
He’d never seen people walk the way Daddy did... He felt so safe in Daddy’s big arms, his chest so wide and his voice so deep. He’d heard Daddy was paying him a visit, and that filled him with excitement, especially since he’d also get to meet his Daddy’s daddy, too…
I wonder if he looks like my Daddy, too?
He maneuvered in between desks, paused at a computer with a flashing picture. Suddenly, the flashing tarried, and a large number popped up on the screen. He turned around startled as a cold, pale hand rested on his shoulder.
“Those are the results we were waiting for,” Dr. Colow stated, but Zachary didn’t know what the man was talking about. He smiled at him all the same and continued his jaunt until he’d made it to the back of the room. He looked up at two large, silver sparkling doors in awe. Above the door, were golden swirls with words he couldn’t read or understand. He surmised they were Zarkstormian words, just like the ones Daddy sometimes spoke to Aton, and the words he heard people saying all over this strange place. When people would speak to him, they’d use English, but once they turned their backs, the strange chatter would begin. Whatever it was they were saying, he wanted to learn it too. He continued to glare up at the golden décor for quite some time, and then, his eyes rested on the inside of the place.
A large tomb, similar to the one out in the opening of the lobby lay inside; only this one had shiny things upon it and white smoke coming out all around. Zachary touched the double clear doors, pressing his nose hard into them. He veered back once he felt the coolness of the place swirling around his ankles.
“So cold…” he muttered as he ran his hands over his arms and shivered. Turning ever so slightly to the left, he discovered one of those funny number panels again. He looked at it curiously, ran his fingers down the thing. It blinked, turning red to his touch but remained quiet. Looking back inside of the room, he wondered what was in that pretty, large, golden box. He looked back at the control panel, knowing it was some sort of lock, a way to keep him away. Like the toy he’d tried to figure out earlier, it, too, had curious numbers all along it.
That’s just like the one Aton uses…
He looked over his shoulder, on the hunt for Dr. Colow. The man’s back was turned as he punched into a keyboard. Zachary smiled with mischievous satisfaction as he turned back towards the computerized panel. Thinking hard, he slicked his tongue out of his mouth and concentrated with all of his might…
What numbers did Aton push to get inside the first door to let us in? I wonder if they are the same numbers? Maybe it’s a puzzle?
Zachary took a deep breath and reached upward on his tippy toes, his feet jamming the hard plastic of his Superman gym shoes. The top buttons were still barely within reach. He quickly glanced over his shoulder once more. The coast was clear. With a slight grunt, he struggled yet reached the top button to press the ‘1’. Less than ten seconds later, he’d finished the code. Initially, nothing happened. He stood there, waiting, then, the doors slid open and a burst of cool air bombarded him. Waving his hand frantically in front of his face, he stepped inside the frigid chamber. Each step he took felt heavier and heavier. His footsteps echoed along the floor and his hands began to moisten with nervousness. His curiosity pushed him forward towards the shiny object that drew his attention.
He stood before it, looking at the golden casket. Whatever was inside it, he presumed was pretty big. He gently touched around it, his fingertip tracing the intricate exterior, while trying to find a way to open it. Instead, he discovered tiny words, written prettily in thick swirls. He recognized one word and one word only. His last name: Khrome.
Is there a person in there, too? There must be…same last name as me…
“Hi.” He smiled down at it, looking at his reflection in the top of the thing.
“My name is Zachary. What’s yours?”
Daddy had already explained to him that dead people don’t talk, but Zachary wasn’t so sure this man or woman was dead, after all.
He tapped on a small rectangle on the top of it, and gasped as it ticked and tocked, then slid away, illuminating a clear enclosure inside of it and revealing much more.
A face!
The man’s eyes were closed, his hands folded over his chest, the face gray, and thick black hair parted down the middle. All sorts of tattoos, even more than his father had, appeared along the shoulders and chest, even his fingers.
“Who… are you?” Zachary stepped closer, pushing past his fear. Something seemed all too familiar about the man, as scary as he was.
“Big,” he said softly, his words making condensation along the cold glass. “Looks like Daddy… I miss my mommy.” He suddenly felt some sort of way; his eyes moistened as he continued to climb the ladder of distress. “I want my mommy!” he hollered, stepping back from the dead man.
“Mommy, help!!!”
****
“Zachary!” Aton screamed as he barreled towards the boy. “Damn you, Dr. Colow! How did he get in here?!” Aton took him by the hand.
“I…I don’t know!” Dr. Colow stepped closer to them, entering the frosty chamber. “He did not receive the entrance code from me, Aton. I promise you!”
“You let him get in here by not being mindful! I asked you for simple assistance, to watch him, and you could not even do that effectively! Worse yet, he could have been hurt! The boy is crying!” Aton looked down at him pitifully. “He walks in on his great, great grandfather... This is not how it should have happened. It’s is not how we handle such matters. We’ve gone through great pains to ensure no one but authorized personnel would know about this!” Aton felt the vein on the side of his neck bulging. He could not recall the last time he’d been this enraged, and he sure as hell had never let anyone see it. The boy was doing something to him, to the point where he was a bit out of control, but he couldn’t rein himself in. “What a horrible thing you let happen! How will I explain this to his parents?”
“Aton, I —”
“Xzion is on his way here any moment. He is exhausted no doubt. He will find this inexcusable. The war with the Yuledrakes on Earth is taking all of his energy and n
ow I leave you with his son, whom he and his wife do not even wish to be here. I leave him with you for ten minutes, and this is what you do?! Incompetent!”
****
Aton went on and on, yelling at the man while Zachary stood there, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. He glanced back at the poor frozen fellow lying on his back in the shimmery box…
That’s my great, great grandpa?
A smile crept across his face. He felt much better now…
****
The room could have been spinning like the Wizard of Oz, the house painted in polka dots and hanging upside down at an angle, while inside a blue chicken flew across the place in reverse singing ‘Blue Suede Shoes’ by Elvis Presley. Those things Jayme would have related to much easier than what her own eyes focused on at that very odd second in time. She’d seen beasts, ghastly creatures, mammoth men and weapons that shot acid like a spitting tongue from a toad, but this right here took the prize. Her heart thumped as she gathered the cool sheets around her and the almost visible swirls of cool breeze encompassed her face, at times dulling her vision of the vivid apparition.
“It’s me, Jayme.” The woman smiled, still staring at her from the foot of the bed. Her dark mahogany almond shaped eyes shined bright as cityscape stars and her lips curved upward in the sweetest of coral-lipped grins. The old lady’s salt and pepper hair blew to and fro and a white glow emanated from her body, framing her like the Second Coming of Christ himself.
“Grandma!” Jayme cried out, cradling her knee to her chest, pushing back on the headboard as if it would somehow stabilize the rapid fire going on inside of her brain. “I can’t believe it.” She placed her trembling hand to her lips, running them down to the bottom of her chin, and didn’t dare blink.
“Believe it, baby.” She heard the slight Southern drawl from her dearly departed, and so sweetly beloved grandmother. Jayme’s most favorite woman in the world was standing right before her — as if she’d stepped right out of one of her old photographs and decided to surprise her granddaughter with a gift that was sure to please…or give her a heart attack. Jayme traced the woman’s form up and down, down and up, with a fixated gaze.
She relaxed a bit, a feeling of warmth consuming her and mixing with the cool air, seeming to usher it away so her bones were a tad bit less chilled.
“I know, baby. I wanted to let you know that everything will be all right, honey.” The old woman’s voice trembled like a radiator. “I just wanted to visit you in your dreams, and make you feel at peace.” She cocked her head to the side ever so slightly. Her eyes danced as she traced her shiny pearl necklace with her fingers. It was truly as if an angel had appeared before Jayme, the only thing missing a bright golden halo and validation from the Lord himself. Jayme shifted her body on the bed as fear snuck slowly into her. She leaned forward, closer, and closer, until she could no longer fix her face to smile.
“Wow…this is so amazing,” was all she could muster. She sniffed the air…
Wet dirt, like earthworms.
It was as if the woman had crawled fresh out of the ground and pushed her tombstone aside; only here she stood, with not one spec of dirt on her peach colored sweater with tiny white buttons, a wide midsection and gray slacks, pressed and creased so straight, it would make a ruler jealous.
“Nice clothes, Grandma…”
Jayme noticed the confused look on her grandmother’s face. She supposed it was what she said, or possibly just how she said it…she wasn’t sure. And she didn’t give it much forethought because time tiptoed away like the motherfucking tooth fairy with a snaggletoothed kid’s incisor and in its place was no damn quarter. Jayme leapt to her feet like a feral cat veering for a fight and grabbed the acid-bullet filled gun she kept by the side of her bed, just as suggested by her oh so helpful spouse. Keeping her hand steady, She pointed it directly at the salt and pepper haired cranium of the old lady. Jayme could hear her own breathing, but she didn’t dare lose her concentration.
“What…are you doing, baby?” The woman’s eyes fixated on the gun as she took a slow step back. “This is your grandmother, sweetie. I’ve passed on…you can’t kill a ghost, Jayme ... Poor child.” The woman smiled sweetly once again, but this time, her voice had a different edge to it.
Jayme didn’t miss the tremble in the old sack of shit’s declaration.
She slowly clicked the gun, catching her reflection in the mirror behind the son of the bitch that she knew was playing a cruel ass, heartless trick on her.
“No, you got that right, Granny. You can’t kill a ghost. But I can blow a Morphitian clear the fuck away!”
In that instant, the lying fiend let out a shrill scream and dashed towards Jayme, clamoring clumsily on top of the bed, tugging on the sheets and yanking them away with brute force. Jayme let out a scream that came from deep within as she lost balance. She tumbled down, knocked flat on her back. In all the commotion and delirium, the damn thing started to turn, to morph into what it really was and she hoped against hope she didn’t have to look the creature in the damned eye.
But suddenly, the room filled with a stench so vile, it made her head spin. It growled and wrestled, tossing her to and fro, and then she looked the demon in the eyes. As she stared at the monster, it smiled at her, seeming to suck in the air and feast off her emotions as though they were fragrant perfume. In her terror, she held on with all of her might, but it was no use. The Morphitian grabbed at the nose of the gun and tried to wrench it free from her hand. She lost her grip on the weapon as a struggle ensued until she heard the thing thud to the floor.
“Shit!” The demonic animal slashed and clawed into her exposed neck, the scratches it made deep and burning. She could feel her blood trickle, and that only made her more determined to get control of the damned situation.
“Ahhhh!” She couldn’t see heads or tails of the room, only fast shadows and glimpses of light. Every time she attempted to crawl away, it pulled her back but inch by inch, she fought as hard as she could! Screaming all the way… until she reached her pillow. Sliding her hand deep within it, she removed the circular object she so desperately needed and prayed she wouldn’t freeze this time. The monster snatched at her body once more, flinging her roughly onto her back.
It was strong and visually alarming, all the things her husband had warned her about — here was that very situation staring her in the face. She had to make it; she had to see her way out of this.
With all of her might, Jayme turned the fucker on its back and flung a sheet partially over its face, blinding its vision.
“Ahhhh! Damn it!” She screamed as it fought in its disorientation.
Grunting, she straddled it while it bucked about. It spoke in a language she didn’t understand, ugly words all the same based on the tone and all the spitting and soiling of the fabrics above its face. It somehow got its damn mouth free, and its breath rolled out like a tar covered tarp, catching everything and burning it up in its pungent path. Jayme gripped the fucker’s mouth, pushed hard on the bastard’s tongue, causing a gag; then, she pushed into the side with her thumb to activate her weapon and tossed the damn specialty grenade inside without one second of vacillation. She closed the lips and tilted the head back, forcing a swallow, then jumped off the bed and ran to the opposite corner of the room. She didn’t dare take her eyes off the thing as it screamed out. The voice was so shrill and penetrating, she wanted to cover her ears, but was too panicked to move one damned muscle.
The ugliness of the bastard was sufficient to stop her in her tracks; the odor it exuded was enough to make her pass out and vomit in her own mouth. But the greatest offense of all was that the motherfucker wore pearls…
“Grandma never wore pearls! She hated ’em!” The monster reared up, spitting and seemingly trying to choke itself to death — anything to remove to object now pushing down its throat. It turned towards her, but just like that, it combusted, blowing up from the inside out. Jayme cowered upon the explosion but as she removed
her arm from her eyes and got to her feet, she confirmed what Xzion had told her would happen. Only the monster ignited, not the area around it. Yet still, pieces of the beast were all over the damned place.
“Fuck this shit!” She grabbed the fallen gun and stormed out of the bedroom, her back erect, her face hurting from the twisted expression she wore. She briefly paused to catch her damn breath, hitting the wall with her fist and still gripping her gun tighter with the other. The halls lit with the surreal shades of cerebellum blue as she continued to make her trek towards the exit. Each step she took, more light bathed her. Motion detection was in full effect. She had no idea how the damned thing got past the security system, but what she did know was that she wasn’t in the mood for any more uninvited guests. Sweat streamed down her face like a waterfall as she made her way to the front door, not sure if more were in the house and not trying to stick around to find out. The cold air should have knocked her to her knees; instead, it felt like a breath of fresh air, giving her new, rejuvenated life. Her hair whipped around in angry black, twisted strands, beating about her face, and her pajamas seemed to be pulled by invisible hands from the gusty wind. She looked down, surprised she didn’t initially feel that she was standing in at least two feet of snow with only her socks on. Afraid she’d get frost bitten, she moved from the spot back towards the door. Creeping along, she peered into the windows of her home. She did not notice anything unusual.
The Tale of the Blood Diamond Page 25