Winds of Change - Chapter 2

I hit the bottom stair of the staircase, and looked up, hearing only the faint echo of my footsteps. Weird. What the hell was she eyeballing? I looked down. The scuff marks on my “black” dress shoes were evident, especially here, in this dimly lit corridor. I would need to replace those soon. I opened the final door; sucked in a nice lungful of night-time air. I looked up at the sky, almost startled by the distance between the horizon and the sun. I glanced at my watch, smirking as I noticed the date was off by five days. Hm. 6:00 P.M. I bet I could catch a good game if I hurried up.

I took off at a brisk walk, relishing the feel of the cooler night air, the almost soothing sound of the wind on the trees. If you’re not familiar with typical Kansas weather, let me be the first to inform you. It sucks. In the Winter, the temperatures can reach in the -30’s. In the Summer, they can reach in the lower 100’s. In between those two seasons resides a whole range of random weather, from 30’s one day, to 70’s the next. I hate it. Every once in a while though, you get those beautiful days, where the temperature is in the mid 70’s, the wind is blowing slightly, and all of nature’s natural shine begins to show through.

As I walked, my mind began to wonder. Who was that woman? Why was she there? And most importantly, What did she want from me? It was obvious that she had been staring at me, completely oblivious to the traffic weaving in, out, and around my floor. What did she want with me?

I stopped outside my house, taking it in with somewhere between disgust and sympathy. My house had stood for nearly 80 years before me and my wife bought it. Young, dumb, and looking to start a family, we purchased this house with the task list of fixing it up. Repainting, fixing the siding, staining the trim, etc… I look back now, and laugh. How naive of me. It has three bedrooms, two on the first floor, and one on the second. One bathroom on each floor, a kitchen on the first floor and, of course, a spare room. You know, one of those kinds of rooms that women usually say will turn into their “Crafts” room, or their “workout” room. Yeah, right. It just sits vacant now, save a few of my wife’s personal belongings, all bubble rapped and in cardboard boxes.

I managed the two steps, and opened my screen door, searching my pockets for the door key. Fumbling around with my keychain, I finally managed to open my door, swiftly returning my key to my pocket. I stepped inside. Everything was how I had left it, even my coffee pot had a faint burning smell emanating from it. I walked over to it, and flipped the switch off. It died without complaint, and I slowly sank into a chair at my “dining table”. It was odd thinking about my ordinary, everyday things in that manner. I can’t remember the last time I actually had made a meal and dined on this table. I actually can’t even remember the last time I had anything other than take-out Chinese, pizza, and my personal favorite, chopped ramen, but who’s counting?

I pulled off my crapiest tie, my dangerously worn out dress shoes, and my inarguably foul smelling socks. Those definitely needed to be washed. I looked at my fridge, unnecessarily searching for a phone number that I had memorized. Golden-China would be happy to deliver, I always made sure to tip the driver. Well, I actually think he rode a bicycle, but who cares, right? I picked up the phone, and begin to dial the number.

After placing my order, I rummaged around in my fridge for a beer. Now, don’t get me wrong, I am definitely not an alcoholic, anymore, I just prefer to have something to take the edge off of the day. I walked back into my, “living room”, although I guess I truly did live in here, and flipped on the tube. I began flipping channels, hoping to catch the last few minutes of the K.U. game. I was in luck. Somewhere between watching Chalmers sink a few threes, and my second and third beer, I began to nod off.

The dreams came brutally, beating down my subconscious. Damnit, I thought, I had fallen asleep. I struggled to wake myself up, but to no avail. I was sitting in the drivers seat of a four-door sedan, waiting impatiently, as all young men do, for the traffic light to turn green. I turned, to the most beautiful woman in the world, sitting in the passenger seat. Her eyes, so light blue that they seemed alive, and vibrant with electricity. I grabbed her hand, and kissed it, taking stock of just exactly how far along she was. I put my hand on her stomach, taking joy in the fact that in no more than 2 months, I would be a father, and her, a mother. It all seemed so surreal, and yet, it was the defining moment of my life. I looked up, just as the light changed, and eased the gas pedal down. The car gave a bit of a lurch, but hell, I was lucky it was running. As we eased into the intersection, I glanced to my right, a habit I had developed as a News Reporter. Always looking for the action. As I watched, not comprehending, a red sports car, top-down, driver groping a woman in one hand, and wildly flailing a bottle of booze in the other, came flying through the red light. I watched, my mind beginning to understand what was about to happen.

I awoke several days later, a broken nose, several broken ribs, and a dislocated shoulder. The only word I said was her name. I whispered it, upon waking, wondering if anyone could hear me. I had so much gauze over my face, I couldn’t make out the shapes moving around me. I tried to move, to rip these wires, and bandages, and restraints from my body, but I couldn’t do it. My arms would not obey, and my mind became foggy. I plummeted back into unconsciousness, all the while wondering, Where was my wife? Where was my Emily?


I awoke with a gasp, as my doorbell rang. My Golden-China had arrived.