Unnamed novel: chapter 2

CHAPTER 2



​That’s how it went for a couple days. Hang with Becky by day. Nightmarish vision by night. Third day after the initial vision was when things started to happen. We sat around the dinner table, the three of us. My mom cooked another fabulous meal. Tuna steaks, tater tots and a side salad. As we ate, I looked over at my father, the look he had on his face. I studied it. It was a normal look, nothing special, but I remembered it. He was a handsome man, short dark hair and chocolate brown eyes. Couple of wrinkles by his eyes when he squinted. As I studied him, a thought occurred to me and it wasn’t a good one. There is an unwritten rule about nightmares, the rule of three. If you have a nightmare three nights in a row, it becomes true. I had had the nightmare for the third consecutive night. That is just a stupid rule, Kerri. How can the nightmare know I had it three times? I was scared for my dad.

​“You okay, Kerri?” mom asked me. My fear must have showed somewhat.

​“Yeah. Why?” I replied.

​“You were just staring off into space.”

​“I was just thinking about something. That’s all. Something Becky and I did.” I tried to smile, but it felt phony to me. Fooled them enough, though.

​“Great meal, hon,” my dad said, changing the subject. “Don’t forget. Tomorrow, I have my big meeting in Charleston. The annual budget committee meeting. I won’t be home for dinner. Won’t be home until late.”

​I wanted to spit the food out of my mouth, couldn’t swallow. My heart felt like it dropped into my stomach. I had forgotten about his meeting in West Virginia and his late arrival. Knew what that meant. That intersection from the vision. He had to drive past that intersection on his way home.

​I coughed, food flying from my mouth. Both of my parents looked at me for a second. Then my dad got up and started to clap my back. “You okay, Kerri? What happened?” he said.

​“I am okay,” I said. “It just…just went down the wrong way…or something.” Yeah, right.

​“You sure?” he asked.

​“Yeah. I am okay now. Thanks.” Didn’t know if I should tell him about my dream, my vision. He had to go, I knew. Maybe if I pleaded with him he would stay.

​That night, right after our nighttime ritual, I asked him to come into my room, which was unusual. I was shaken. Thought I would never see him again. I wanted him to last. Wanted to get as much of him as I could.

​“Do you have to go tomorrow?” I asked, hoping to change his mind.

​“Yes. You know I do, honey. It is very important.”

​“I know, but…” I was unsure how to finish.

​“But what? What is it, Kerri?”

​“It’s just that…I had this weird dream…more than a dream…and…anyway, you were in it and…there was this accident…and…and…” I tailed off. The images were fresh in my mind and they nearly sent me over the edge. Put an empty feeling in my stomach. I fought the tears. Did not want my dad to see me like that. But I thought I was never going to see him again. My vision blurred slightly because of the wetness in them.

​“Kerri. Those are just dreams,” he assured me. “Nightmares. Whatever you want to call them. I promise you I will be okay. All right?” Then he put a hand on either side of my head, bent forward and kissed me on the forehead. “I love you,” he whispered.

​“I love you, too.”

​He left the room, waved on his way out. I wanted to scream. Reached out for him like he was just beyond my reach, but he was gone. Forever. Never saw him alive again. Tears rolled down my cheeks. It was the worst day of my life.



​Next day was torture. Sure, Becky had me laughing, but my thoughts drifted. My father. The accident. I couldn’t clear them from my head, not even Becky could. Everything was becoming real and I did not know what to do. Tears were in my eyes, masked by the water in the lake and the scarce smiles Becky gave me. Wanted to tell her, but what could she have done? Same thing that I could have. Nothing. I let it go.

​That night as I lay in bed, a night without the ritual because my dad was not home, would never be again, I just stared at the ceiling. For hours I stared into the gray haze of my ceiling, my walls. Couldn’t bring myself to sleep. But I must have because the next thing I remembered was the phone ringing. Sounded like sirens. Glanced over at the clock on the night table next to my bed. It was one thirty seven in the morning. The phone call could only be one thing. Heard a shriek from down the hall, from my mother. I was lost. I didn’t know what to do. My father, the man I loved more than anyone in the world, was dead. I couldn’t move. Shock paralyzed me. The reality. The finality.

​“Beck. Where are you when I need you?” I whispered. Even thinking of her did not cheer me up, much. Heard three soft raps on my door, barely audible. Knew it was my mom. I can’t look sad. She can’t know I already know. Rubbed the sadness from my eyes as best I could. Hoped she would not notice. Slowly got out of bed, sniffed and shuffled across the room. When I opened my bedroom door, my mom was standing there. She looked a mess. Pink puffy lines circled around her eyes. Tears streaked down her face. Hair scraggly, flat.

​“K…K….Kerri. I…” she said, sobbing.

​“What is it?” Tried to feign strength. Tried to hide my knowledge. Don’t think I pulled it off, but I was oblivious to her. Her world was shattered and I was not part of her world.

​She stood there, silent. After a few seconds, she gathered up enough strength to continue. “It’s your father. There was an accident and…your father he…”

​“He what?” I knew already. Did not want to hear it. Hearing it would make it real. Make it true. Didn’t want it to be truth, I wanted my father back.

​She lost control, her emotions took over. Put her hands up to cup her face and just fell to her knees and sobbed. Incomprehensible mumbles came from her mouth. She sounded like a dying cat.

​Had I not known what happened, I am sure her reaction would have led me on enough to figure it out, so I blurted it out. “He’s dead.” It wasn’t a question. She took it as one and I saw her head nod slightly up and down to confirm. She never looked up at me, kept her hands covering her face. I closed the door, leaving her on the floor in the hallway outside my door. I ran to my bed, jumped in and sorrow overcame me. I did not need to hide it anymore, so I let it all out. My pillowcase was soaked my morning.



​I did not even go over to Becky’s the next day. Couldn’t. Hurt too much. Spent the day in my room with the door closed. No idea what time it was when I heard a voice outside my door. Becky. My mother must have let her inside. I stood her up. Could picture her standing in her back yard, leaning on her back porch waiting for me. Realized I wasn’t coming, and I always came over, never missed a day, never stood her up without her prior knowledge. Felt bad about it, but she figured there was a reason and she showed up to see what it was.

​“Kare, you in there, girl? It’s me.” No knock, only her voice. She knew I was in there.

​“Beck!” I ran to the door, opened it. Clad in her yellow bathing suit and jean shorts, she stood there with eyes opened wider than normal, fingernails in her mouth. She saw my pink puffy eyes and knew something bad happened. I told her. Could see the dampness in her eyes when I finished.

​“Oh Kare, I…I…I don’t even know what to say. I am so sorry.” She hugged me. We stood in the doorway for what seemed to be hours. My tears soaked her face, my sniffles filled her ears.

​“I am here for you. Kay. I love you, Kare.” Perfect thing for her to say there. She always said the perfect thing.

​“I love you, too, Beck.”

​She told me that when I was ready she would be there. I could come over. Hang. Go to the lake. Cry. Whatever I wanted. I told her thanks, but I just wanted to be alone for a while. She understood. Told me she just wanted me to know she was there for me. That she would be ready when I needed her.



​I did not see her again until the Funeral. Three days later. My mom and my Uncle Rex, who was my dad’s oldest brother, set up all the Funeral arrangements. It was at St. Marie of the Incarnacion, the Church we attended every Sunday in Crestmont Heights, the town neighboring to the south. It was not a pretty church, it was very modern. Metal and cement, which was painted beige, made up the interior. Stained glass windows were random mosaics of color. Red-brown pews circled around the raised gray stone altar. Painting of Virgin Mary and Baby Jesus hung on the wall behind the altar, surrounded by statues of baby angels with wings, like cupids. Colorful silk banners that draped from the ceiling gave it the feel of a church, or a circus. The ceremony was beautiful and heartwarming regardless of how the church looked.

​Dressed in a flowing black sleeveless dress that went down to her mid-calf, my mother sat next to me in the first pew. She looked beautiful that day. Most days. Honey-blond hair that curled to an end just above her petite shoulders was tucked behind her small ears. Looked like a crown of gold adorned her head. She had a narrow mouth with thin lips that sat perfectly on her triangular face. Smooth skin. People said I got my looks from my mother. Certainly got my blue eyes from her, though hers are more like dawn. Not one feature stood out on her face more than the others, they worked harmoniously. Minimal make-up, she had no need for it. Even with sorrow drawn on her face, she was still the most beautiful woman in the church. Or anywhere.

​Next to her was my Aunt Nancy, my mom’s sister. Behind us sat my father’s side of the family: My Uncle Rex, Uncle Michael, who was the youngest Harris, his wife Julia and their children John and Sandra. Sandra was eleven and adored me. Every family get together she would always try hang out with me. I did not hate her, but I was thirteen and that seemed light years older than her, so I was more annoyed with the things she did. But not the things she did that day.

​I felt a gentle tap on my shoulder and turned to see Sandra smiling at me. She was a cute girl, with big round brown eyes and chestnut hair. Three braided strands on her left side. Button nose dotted with fading freckles. I tried to return the smile as best I could, but under the circumstances, it was difficult.

​“Sorry ‘bout your dad, Kerri,” she said in her sweet little girl voice, so tiny and innocent.

​“Thanks, Sandra. That was very sweet of you,” I said back and meant every word of it. What she said was so simple, yet it touched my heart profoundly.

​When I turned back around, my Uncle Rex was walking towards the podium. He was a large man, not fat, but muscle. Star football player at Steubenville High in his youth. Still owned the record for most sacks in a season. Youngstown State after that, on a football scholarship. Law school at The Ohio State University, graduated magna cum laude. Opened his own law firm after five years with a medium sized personal injury firm in Steubenville. That was three years previously. Rex had a squared jaw under a thick muscular face. Boxy nose between his strong chocolate eyes. Short wavy brown hair, perfectly groomed. Like looking at an older, meatier version of my dad.

​He stepped up behind the podium, which was small compared to his stature. A freshly pressed black pinstriped suit fitted him nicely. So did the gray and black striped tie. Both of his big hands grabbed the podium as he swayed forwards and backwards.

​“Daniel Robert Harris,” he began the eulogy dry-eyed, “was a wonderful and caring man. He was a perfectionist at everything he did. He was the perfect brother. A brother who was always willing to play hoops with either myself or Michael, even though he knew he was going to lose.” I heard people trying to chuckle, the joke easing tension. “It wasn’t about winning and losing. It was about brothers. About family. He would always help us with our math homework. He had such a knack for numbers. Loved them.” He paused for a moment. After clearing his throat, he continued, “A perfect father.” He looked directly at me and his wide mouth curled into tight smile. “Every time I spoke with Daniel, he never failed to mention Kerri. How she had made honor roll. How she beat him in some game or another. He was so very proud of his little angel. Daddy’s little girl.”

​I wiped my eyes, tried to form a smile, couldn’t, so I nodded instead. Then I looked at my feet and thought of the accident. All the blood. His big pleading eyes.

​“A perfect husband,” he continued. “Judith was a lucky woman to have a husband like Daniel. And Daniel was a luckier man to have a wife like Judith. He loved her with everything that he had.”

​I looked up, tried to concentrate on his words, hoping they would remove the images from my mind. Looked at my mom and she was smiling and crying at the same time. Mascara streaked down her face and she wiped at it with a tissue.

​“I know that one of the happiest days of his life was the day he first saw Judith,” Rex continued. “He didn’t think he could get any happier than he was, but he did. She made him whole. She completed the circle of his life. Never before in my life have I witnessed such love and tenderness as Daniel felt towards Judith. Kerri, too. He was a lucky man to have such love in his life.

​“And a perfect accountant,” he paused, fighting his emotions. “God will finally have his checkbook balanced. Daniel,” Rex then raised both arms into the air, slightly bent at the elbow. Like a referee signaling touchdown. Both hands pointed to heaven. To my father. “I will miss you, brother. I love you. We all do.” With that, he hunched down and let his emotions take over. He walked back to his seat and put his hands on my shoulders when he sat down. I turned, returned his glance and smiled a bit. He nodded.

​Outside it started to pour. Rain pattered onto the stained glass windows. In the distance, I could hear the rumblings of thunder. I did not count. Did not care how far away it was. I wanted it to go away. Every clap of thunder brought the images back into my head. The bass thumping. Boom! Thump! Boom! Thump! The horrific collision. And the blood. Everywhere blood. Pools of blood. Tiny pieces of glass swam in them. The wind howled. Sounded like it was calling for me.

​When the Funeral ended, everyone was invited to Pienelli’s Italian Restaurant in Steubenville for the Mercy Dinner. It was my dad’s favorite restaurant and they served, in his opinion, the best veal Paramgiana money could buy. I walked in with my mom, but we didn’t stay together long. Spotted Becky as soon as I walked in and she stopped me. Almost didn’t recognize her, never seen her all dressed up. She wore a black knee-length skirt with, which I knew she hated, and a white short-sleeved blouse. Black nylons and black flats. So opposite of Becky. We stood face to face in the front room of the restaurant.

​“Kare. Again. I can’t say it enough. I am truly sorry. Wish I could bring him back, I do. I know how much he meant to ya.” Droplets of water covered her eyelashes.

​“Thanks, Beck. I’ve missed you.” And I did. Even though it was only a couple of days.

​“And I missed you, too, girlfriend.”

​I just looked at her, didn’t know what to do. Death was something I had never experienced before, so I did not know how to react. Should I cry? Should I laugh? Every emotion was right there on the surface. After a few seconds, Becky grabbed me and hugged me tight. I hugged her back.

​“Thanks, Beck. I needed that.” I felt wetness on my cheek, not sure if it was mine or hers, probably both. We hugged for a moment and I let it all out. The visions still shook me. So, when Becky hugged me, it released all those negative things for a moment and I was able to really cry. And she let me. That was the Becky I knew and loved, not that skirt wearing imposter.

​When we released the hug, my face was dry again, but not my eyes. Becky handed me a tissue and I wiped my face. Walked into the dining room with her. She grabbed my hand along the way. I could feel my heart try to smile. She sat at a different table as me, so I walked her over to hers. Her mother, Connie, was already seated at the round table.

​“Kerri. We are deeply sorry about your father. He was such a good man,” Connie said to me. I knew Mrs. Stanton, but not very well. She was Becky’s mom, but they did not really look alike. Connie had a pudgy face and narrow brown eyes. The pounds she gained from birthing Becky showed on her hips and thighs, but she was far from fat. Her husband left her when Becky was two, Becky never knew him. Neither did I.

​“Thanks Mrs. Stanton. That is very nice of you to say.” I smiled as best I could.

​Then she smiled and Becky sat down next to her. Told them I had to go to my table and walked over there. As I neared the rectangular table, I could see my mom and Uncle Rex standing behind it, talking. Overheard my mother, “it’s okay, for Kerri.”

​“What’s okay for me, mom?” I asked. Curious. They were talking about me. Walked over to their side of the table and stood between them.

​“Oh, nothing much. Just that your Uncle Rex wants to help us out a little bit. You know. With the finances and with your college education.”

​Rex chimed in, “Yes. We were just discussing how I would like to set up a bank account for you to use, both of you, for whatever you need. Until Judith gets a job, at least. I know times are tough. I know Daniel set up his finances well. He did mine, too. He was a genius with that. But every dime counts.”

​He looked me in the eye and said, “Kerri, if you ever need anything, please call me. As your Godfather I’d feel obligated, and honored, to give you that guidance. To be your father figure. Don’t get me wrong, I would never want to replace Daniel. Ever. I couldn’t. But I know he would want me to be there for you.”

​“Thanks, Unc,” I said. “That is very nice of you.” Must have been in a hugging mood that day because I grabbed him and gave him a hug. I only came up to his chest, though. Felt safe in his big strong arms.

​A few minutes later, a loud clap of thunder rocked the restaurant. It shook. So did I. All I could think of was the images. They flooded my brain, washed out all other thoughts. All I could see was the blood, with tiny pieces of glass scattered around the pool. And his face, his broken and bleeding face.

​As the Mercy Dinner went on, the storms outside began to subside, but the rain lingered. By the time the dinner ended, it was a steady rain. Nearly everyone had gone home and the restaurant staff was cleaning up. Only my mother and Rex remained and myself. Overheard them gently debate about who would pay the bill. Don’t know who won. Didn’t care. Just stared at the wall until it was time to go home, which thankfully happened shortly after that. It was silent drive home. Not an awkward silence, nor was it a comfortable silence. Just silence. The swishing of the wipers was the only real noise. When we got home, we both went our bedrooms. I had notions of walking down the hall, going to talk to her, but I never did. When I went out into the hallway to go to the bathroom, or downstairs, I could hear her crying, calling out my father’s name. Mostly, I thought about Becky. I really had missed her, her antics, her quirks. Everything. Also thought about Uncle Rex, how safe I felt in his arms. Thoughts never went to my mother, not once.

​I laid in bed thinking about my dad. It had been a few days, but for some reason it was that night that I missed him for the first time. Maybe it was because of the Funeral. The closure. Kept waiting for him to poke his head around my bedroom door. He never did. Kept waiting for him to catch the kiss I’d blown to him. He never did. Never will again.

​When I woke up the next morning, my head ached, but not nearly as much as my heart. There are many things that could cure the headache, but only a few that could help my heartache. Becky was one of those things. I needed to see her again, to spend real time with her at the lake. Like always.

​Becky was outside, waiting, smiling, wringing her hands, biting her lip when I got to her house.

​“Hey, Kare,” she said, smiling widely.

​“Hey, Beck,” I returned with the same smile on my face. Felt good to smile. Almost hurt it had been a while. “How did you know I was coming?”

​She shrugged her shoulders. “I didn’t. Jus’ hopin’ you were, I guess. Ready?”

​And we ran and ran.

​The lake was perfect that day.

​And Becky was perfect, too. She knew I was ready and did one her favorites. “Girl, I got one thing to say to you,” she said. Then she paused, put her hands on her hips and shifted her weight. She was fighting a smile, but it still showed on her face. Then, staring dead at me, straight-faced, she said, “a-a-a-choooooo!” Becky always thought that the sound of a sneeze was funny, especially when exaggerated like she said it, so she used this on me whenever she thought I needed a good laugh. And I needed one then. Both laughed so hard I thought we would have stomach aches for weeks.



"Unnamed novel: chapter 3"