Freddy was just a little boy when it happened.
It was a dark night, on a cold winter evening. Though he was only five, he could still recall it in his dreams, not the type of dreams that healthy boys have. Quite to the contrary, the unwanted dreams were nightmares. Waking from the dead of sleep was an ongoing turmoil, the kind that hurt his mind in ways untold. Before that night, when all came unraveled, the same evening his parents died, he could recollect with dimness at best. His memories felt hazed and skewed by his adoptive mother, Terra. He could not say why, it was something within, a warning, or a calling, and it told him not to trust her. Somehow, Terra was controlling his dreams, his wakefulness.
It was not easy to live the way he did, in constant turmoil between fantasy and reality. In time, he began to doubt his suspicions about his dreams. Fitful as they were, they felt darker than his reality. Terra was his mom now. Trusting her was not possible; though he could persevere. Some days like this one, she seemed a more viable option than the uncertainty he would face if he left home, the only place he had known for so long. Throughout all of it, the thirteen years he had spent under Terra’s roof, she still seemed a stranger, and stranger she grew.
Time had not been easy on her.
Theirs had been a life of simplicity. Nevertheless, it was an uneasy one. As he grew, Freddy began to suspect things of her, rotten things. It all started with the most innocent of acts, when he was eight, tall enough at last to operate the kitchen sink by himself. They had gone out berry picking, and the juice had stained his hands. He had gone to the sink to wash up. Not knowing, he reached for the odd grey lump of soap on the sill. Terra had a fit, one full of scorn.
“Never- don’t you ever touch that,” she screamed.
Confused, he dropped the cleansing bar into the sink. Terra had gone off in a tirade, until to her relief the bar came away undamaged. It was too confusing to bear, too easy to misread what was happening.
That night, the same as many before, he went to sleep recounting the horrid events that claimed his parents’ lives and the beast that slew them. He could still hear its grunts, like sounds from an ape. This was not how it appeared. He could never forget. The memory etched its way into his cortex like the lines of a marble statue, and it refused to go. Not that he had ever seen a statue. In fact, he had never seen anything but Terra’s world.
Since that night, he lived in an alternate world, away from all the terrible folks.
As he toiled day in and day out, he began to wonder about the things he dreamt. For each of his suspicions, none checked themselves. They all seemed warranted. So now, he began to wonder more with each coming day.
He wondered who or what Terra really was.
There was no way of knowing. Truthfully, he felt crazy. Whatever he thought- it could not be true- or could it? His dilemma grew in strength, until he was no longer himself. It seemed as if he was outside himself looking in.
He was almost a man now, and more confused than ever.
He sat there, at the breakfast nook, staring at the cleansing bar, unaltered throughout his entire stay. It had become more than a lump of soap. It was Terra’s not so secret, secret. Why was that thing so important to her? He was at a loss to explain it- the lump, (never used for cleansing to his knowledge) was actually hideous, so it was not its beauty… but what was it?
He had to know.
Every night he slept like the dead. There was no way to watch Terra, or to find out why she obsessed over that misshapen bar. Sleep was a drug. For his nightmares, willpower was of no use. What would it be like to see the moon? Such daydreams drove him, as did the shape and scent of the trees, the appeal of nature, its beauty, and wilderness…
Freddy thought that he would never know anything other than how he lived then. For every night before sundown, his eyes glued themselves shut, eager to replay the horrors once again. They would not surrender, if even for one evening. The dreams were changing, and he felt as if they were altering him.
“What are you dwelling on son?” Terra looked tired, wicked really. Her jetting tufts of knotted hair made her look bestial, and from the rings under her eyes, Freddy knew she had not slept again. She rarely rested well. Truthfully, he could not recall ever seeing her asleep at all.
“Nothing really.”
Somehow his response passed by Terra’s scrutiny. He wondered why, she was always attentive. Nothing got by her.
“Well instead of doing nothing, go get us a hen. Pluck it better this time.”
“Yes ma’am.” Another chicken, oh joy. He looked again at Terra, she looked worse than he originally had thought, her eyes shot red with a yellow tinge. Her skin seemed pasty, but thicker, rougher somehow…
Terra turned, seeming exhausted, and then moved slowly away. She almost dragged her left foot. Freddy trembled, and somehow, his eyes again found the lumpen bar. Then he discovered something he had not noticed before. A tiny knobby portion, no longer than a centimeter was missing. As if his brain was waking, curiosity took him over. His inquisitive mind drew him towards it like a magnet. There he stood shaking; he did not want to believe what he saw, a single hair, which matched neither Terra nor himself.
Transfixed, he stood staring. His eyelids twitched excitedly, even as his throat and stomach plummeted spiritually. Sinking sensations took him to the depths of dread. His eyes burned, his cheeks went cold. The stiffness of his frame went unchecked. He did not notice the swelling pain. Tensions were there nonetheless. He felt these. A racing brain, awakening now, was trying to tell him something. He could not hear it. Despite the lack of blood flow to his skin, or its coolness to the touch, he began to perspire.
He thought his bowels would let loose.
No matter his will, the thing drew his unblinking gaze. The stinging in his eyes grew, and wells of tears began pooling from them, their trails only slightly evident because of his cold sweat. The thing could not cease to be evil, that unfamiliar thread. Frayed it was. Then his eyes found something worse, upon the wounded cleansing bar, a single scarlet drop…
Terra was there, in the hall. He did not hear her. He heard nothing, not even himself. His vision narrowed, not caring what was good for his brain. Locked in a scowl, she stood, seeing what would inevitably come. Delightful. Sublime… revolting… life charged such bitter tolls.
“Freddy!”
Terra’s voice ripped his attention away from the scarlet strand, its reddish, entrancing call… shoving his mind from one twisted sight to the other. Ringed eyes rent with fever. Burning anger. Locked in a torture zone, with horrid tension, silence thick, he felt fear as he never knew before. Her hair seemed gnarled and nappy, more than when she had gone out.
It had not been that long, had it?
Truth was, Freddy could not say. Terra would punish him. Anger blossomed, staining her countenance. Cold hatred showed plainly in her pupils. Racing, reckless adrenaline coursed through him, until his hands splayed spasmodically at his sides. A revolution had occurred. His nerves betrayed him. Emotionally naked before Terra, he shook as if he was riding winds of a maelstrom.
Terra stayed away. Shadows played tricks with his viewpoint. She seemed to change temperament almost immediately. Her rigid stance relaxed.
“Son, go get the chicken. Pick a fat one. I am not feeling well. I’m going to lie down. Wake me before supper if I fall asleep.”
Right away, he did not believe it. It was impossible. She was being kind to him… then he saw her tell revealed. A sharp sparkle in her sentient eyes, speaking of desolation and bloody death. For the span of a blink, it gave him the one clue that might save him.
For that was when he knew he was doomed…
“Yes ma’am,” Freddy said normally, though he wanted to run… not knowing what to do. Only craving to get somewhere, anywhere, but there. Shock came then, but not with horror. Terra’s demeanor softened. Edginess vacated her eyes. They were no long
er cold. She stood there for a time, not speaking. As he took the sight of her in, Freddy still felt trepidation, his heart fluttered as it did previously… a warning.
“I apologize child. I have not been feeling well.”
“I haven’t been myself lately. Although I despise having to do so, I fear I need to make a trip. There is a doctor over the hill. I am going to visit him. Perhaps he can patch me up… You are going to have to stay here alone tonight. The trip is too long to take in a day. Do you think you will be alright without me?”
Now, Freddy worried. Terra had never left him by himself overnight. Never. He hoped he was concealing his fears well enough to fool her. He doubted it, even as he replied, his voice betrayed him, quivering slightly, exposing his dread…
“I think so. Do you have anything you need me to do?”
God, he hated himself. You would think that throughout a lifetime of secrecy, he would be better at deception. He was not. He watched Terra’s eyes, somehow understanding that when a woman lies, her eyes still reveal the truth…
“Well, I could not sleep at all again last night, so I spent some time in the shed. It is unruly, quite the mess. You can steer clear of that… and the turnips in the first two rows are ready to be harvested, could you be a dear and pick them for me?”
It was there, briefly, that hard spark of cruelty in her lying eyes. He pretended not to notice, feigning concern.
“Yes ma’am.”
“I sure do wish you felt better. I’m going to miss you… Picking the turnips won’t take long- it leaves me with a lot of time. Is there anything else?”
“Go ahead and do some weeding, but leave the shed be. I will handle it when I return. If you still have too much time on your hands, read the Bible.”
“Okay. When are you going?”
He hoped it was soon. Freddy had no idea what he would do while she was away. He wanted to run, but the truth was, he had no idea where to go.
“Good. I am going to wash up. After I am done, I will cook you some breakfast. The trader was by before dawn, I bought us some fresh bacon. How does that sound?”
“Delicious. Thanks!”
He meant it. He loved the trader’s bacon. It had never occurred to him that the vendor and he had never met. An early riser, he supposed.
“You are welcome, Freddy dear. Now be a good boy and get that chicken. I will put it in broth before I leave. There is some dough in that bowl over there, you can make the noodles.”
Terra walked away, but he felt no relief. He tried not to think about that hair, the scarlet drop. Going outside, he went to the henhouse, and chose the fattest hen. He winced as he put its head on the chopping block, and watched in fascination as its headless body ran amuck for the brief time it took for death to override its nerves. If he lived a thousand years, he thought he would never understand why chickens did that. Goats did not. Neither did deer. Spasms in death seemed normal. Running did not. Busying himself with plucking and cleaning the hen did nothing to remove the nagging memory of the hair, or the drop.
By the time he went inside, he was deeply troubled. Even the bright morning sun had failed to make him feel better. Usually it did. Somehow feeling its warmth had always helped, until that day.
He found Terra seated at the nook when he entered the kitchen, hen in tow. Her hair, combed and damp, her eyes less ringed. Her voice tired, but kind.
“Could you bring that here? I would like to see how well you did…”
Normally, he would have been frightened further, but he doubted that was possible. Without a word, he brought the hen to Terra for inspection.
“See? I knew you had it in you.”
A compliment? Hair raised on the nape of his neck, telling him to beware. In all his years with her, Terra was not complimentary; she was often the opposite, trite, unfair… Her eyes kept striking Freddy- in places he could not fathom… but just then, they seemed sad.
“Thanks,” he said offhandedly, sounding awkward, his voice shaking, while uttering only a single syllable.
“Put it in the sink. I will get started with breakfast in a second. Before I start, come and have a seat.”
His heart hammered, his guts flipped. A cold stream of sweat rolled down his back. Speaking again, he was surprised he sounded normal.
“Yes ma’am.”
Attempting to appear nonchalant, Freddy went to the sink, doing as Terra told him. Nothing could have prepared him for what came next. The cleansing bar was gone… his knees buckled, and he lost his balance, rapping his chin on the edge of the counter smartly. It all came quickly, his returning to his feet, attempting to regain his composure.
“Are you alright?”
A tense silence followed Terra’s remark, seemingly an hour; realistically it lasted merely a couple seconds…
“Uh yeah. I just slipped, that’s all.” He rubbed his chin as he replied, feeling it already swelling, making his sore jaw feel taut.
“You should watch where you’re going. Come and sit down.”
Terra’s voice was clipped, and to Freddy, uncaring.
“Yeah.”
He seated himself beside her. Uncharacteristically, she took his hand. His pulse accelerated, racing once again. The sweat returned, warmer this time, dampness soaking his palms, streams rolling down his spine, under his pits.
“I wasn’t going to tell you this, but there is a chance my trip might take longer than I hope. There is something wrong with me Freddy, frightfully wrong.”
No kidding, he thought, as she pressed on.
“You might have to stay alone for a while. I am unsure. If that’s the case, eat as you see fit, I will not trouble you over it. A growing boy needs nourishment. If I am not back within a day or two, kill a goat. It should keep you fed for longer than the hens. It would be best if you saved them for last, eat the ones who do not lay eggs first. I hate doing this, but it is better I take care of myself. I am of no use to anyone in this sorry condition. I hope you understand.”
Freddy sat silently. She was lying for sure. He could not run. She would know… The sweat stopped, going dry. He forced himself to answer, fearing her response. Again, he pretended to be concerned…
“What is wrong?”
As soon as he asked, he knew he should not have.
“If I knew that, I would not need to visit a doctor!”
Terra did not raise her voice, but her response was grating. Then, as quickly as her anger showed itself, it vanished, as if in thin air.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay boy. I am just agitated.”
“I understand. I am worried too.”
A genuine response, he was concerned, only it was for himself.
“I will be leaving soon after we eat. Leave the shed alone. It is chaotic, but I have a plan. I will sort it out. If you get restless, dig a pit. I will bring us a hog to roast after the doctor fixes me.”
Boy? Dig a pit? Now his concern was not concern at all. Panicked, his palms began to itch, as fat beads of sweat clung to his brow, until they rolled uncaringly into his eyes.
“Yes ma’am. Please get well. I don’t want to live without you long.”
Terra searched his eyes, as he made a conscious effort to relax them.
“Very well,” she replied, dropping his hand dismissively.
“Now, about breakfast.”
It turned out to be the finest meal they had ever shared. Freddy’s favorites- fat strips of bacon, eight each, laid out beside three eggs, sunny side up, four fluffy buttermilk biscuits and boysenberry jelly. Terra said little else, and if she did speak, her words were pleasant. She prattled about scripture, recommending passages from the dog-eared bible she kept at her side.
Before she left, bearing a backpack, a walking stick, and two jugs of water, Freddy had looked in her eyes. They were not flinty, not unkind, reflecting love and a virtue he had not known in th
em. Watching her walk away, Freddy felt remorse and a foreboding that riveted him there, gazing after Terra as she disappeared in the dense trees.
When at last he could see her no more, he sighed, feeling a fright he had not thought he could have- uncertainty.
The Indie Collaboration Presents: Tales From Darker Places Page 6