prologue

     

                                                                  Prologue

                                                  THE NIGHT THAT CHANGED


Looking around the dimly lit trailer the dinner dishes are patiently waiting for me in the sink, they need washed, dried, and put away. Strong bittersweet aroma is filling the night air with the smell of fresh coffee. Turning my head, I listen for the kids. All is quiet so they must finally be sleeping after the day of pure chaos that pushed the boundary.

“Lisa, will you remind me to check on Kris tonight. She still had a headache when she went to bed and I’m worried about her.” I ask Lisa, my best friend of eight-teen years.

“Of course I will Jenn. Don’t worry she will be fine. She probably has a headache from you asking her all those questions about her picture.” She responds with her slight southern twang.

“What was that all about?” David my youngest brother frowns at me with lines burrowed deep between his eyebrows. “I thought you were going to drive Kristen crazy with all those questions.”

“I didn't ask that many questions did I? She drew this picture of her Dads family in school, and on the Grandpas face she left out the nose. I know that means something” I explain

“Sooo what does that mean?” David asked.

“I don’t know, but it means something. I need to figure it out” I said.

“Oh my God! Jenn stop that psychology shit!” David shakes his head and runs his calloused hand through his blond hair.

“It does mean something David.” Lisa backs me up.

“Jimmy had a headache too didn’t he? Did he draw a picture too?”
.
“Very funny David. The picture doesn’t have anything to do with the headaches. Jimmy said he couldn’t get off the couch, it was really a bad headache.” I insist.

“For Jimmy not to get up and do something on his birthday it must have been a bad one.” Lisa said.

“Did you have Josh call him and wish him a happy birthday?” David asked with a hint of suspicion.

“Stop looking at me like that David. It is Joshes Dad you know.”

“Whatever it’s your life. Have either one of you guys noticed that the first thing I can lay down is six, six, six, every time.” David always was quick to change a subject.

Focusing back to the tiring game of rummy, we have been playing for two hours now.

“What are you saying?” I ask.

“The first thing I can lay down is six, six, six.” his grim stare, nearly makes me laugh.

“Oh David that’s just crazy. And stop looking so serious! ”

David is staring at the cards that are lying on the kitchen table.

“No it’s not crazy, Jenn,” Lisa said, “I noticed it but didn’t want to say anything.”

“You guys stop it! I don’t believe it, that would be to weird! I'm starting to feel creepy don't talk about that stuff."

“You know what I heard once. I heard that the devil is as powerful as God!” David’s piercing blue eyes, stare into me.

“Oh no David, Please don’t ever say that. God has so much more power!. David you know God has more power right?”

“I know Jenn.” He looks at me and grins.

Jumping to the rescue Lisa whispered. “Let’s change spots David, maybe that will help.”

Taking the deck of cards, I begin to shuffle. What bothered me the most was that my hair was standing on end and chills began to run threw my body. I never had chills before, not like this.
“Ok a couple more hands but that's it.” I say, while passing seven cards to each one of us. I watch closely to see which cards David laid down first. It was true; the first play, David put down, the six of clubs, the six of spades, and the six of diamonds.

He looks at me with half a grin on his lips. “I told you Jenn, it’s been this way every hand.”
“No way, David it can’t be every time.” I say glancing down at my cards on the table, the four of hearts, four of clubs, and the four of diamonds, now seem magnified under the dim light. I deal two more hands the same result each time. David’s eyes are showing a trace of fear. The wooden clock above the kitchen sinks chimes twice.

“Do you guys realize how late it’s getting.” I look at Lisa for help.

Lisa looks at me with her hazel eyes, dark skin, and long brown hair, and stretches,
“I am getting tired of playing this funky old game.” Lisa yawns, and throws her cards in the middle of the table. Collecting all the cards from the table I return them to there case, not knowing that would be the last time I ever played rummy.

David now standing in the small paneled living room, hands in his tan khaki pants, with one of those, we have to talk, looks on his face.
“You know what Jenn, I have woken up at 4:44 for the last three nights,” David stares intensely at me.

“Really, so have I. I just wake up for no reason and look at the clock its 4:44 every time.” I begin to wonder if maybe David noticed the fours in the card game.

I walk to the old brown couch that is worn, but still so comfortable, and sit down for that last cigarette of the day. My six-month-old orange and white kitten jumps up on the arm of the couch her green eyes bulging at me, her ears laying flat against her skull.
“David give me a minute I have to put her outside she is acting crazy. I think she will be okay. What is wrong with her she never acted this way?”

“You know Jenn, I don’t remember much of our childhood.” David yells as the ice-cold wind blows against my face. 

“I know David, I don’t either. Maybe we just don’t want to remember.” I shout.  Slamming the door shut, closing out the cold winter night. Returning to the couch I wonder why I am beginning to feel so lightheaded. I sit on the edge next to Lisa.

“I remember Moms’ voice, but I can’t see her face.” Was that David’s voice? I slowly look in the direction of the voice.

Swirling around and around in the middle of the living room, was a white mist. I feel myself drifting away. A younger David is standing in the middle of the mist. His blond hair is pure white. He is staring out of a small window. White thin curtains are blowing softly inward. Clear deep blue sky is all that is outside. Behind David moving slowly towards him, are two lightning bolts of gold. Behind the golden bolts, are two white eyes? The wind is constantly blowing. The mist is evaporating. Lisa begins pulling frantically at my arm she is saying,
“Jenn that’s it, that’s it!” I try to focus on her face but she seems so far away. Our eyes meet, but only for a brief moment.
                             

                    Chaos is a voyage that thrust us over the interface of coherent judgment
                 
                                                                January 21 1990

I roll over and look at the clock it is 9:30 am. I drag the warm blankets over my head and listen to the wind howling outside my bedroom window. I hear soft pattering on the window. It must be snowing. I feel so drained.
Josh my two year old is screaming, Josie is telling him to shut up and eat. Kristen will soon be knocking at my bedroom door to tell me every thing is in chaos. I sit on the edge of the bed, put my head in my hands, and begin to remember last night.

“MOM!” I hear the expected knock on the bedroom door.

“I’m up honey.” I groan.

The bedroom door burst open, and in runs, my special blue eyed girl with faint freckles covering her nose and cheeks. Placing her hands on her hips.

“Mom, Josie is being mean again and Josh keeps screaming. Will you please get up and get Josie in trouble! I mean for real this time.” So typical of my nine year old.

Grabbing my red fuzzy bathrobe, I put it on hoping to stop the shaking inside of my body. A quick glace in the mirror shows the black circles under my brown eyes. My curly reddish blond hair plastered against my forehead is a sign I must have been sweating.

“Is your headache better?” I ruffle Kirsten’s thick brown hair.

“My head don’t hurt at all.” Kristen said, and runs off to look for any unsuitable behaviors.

I shuffle out to the kitchen. The linoleum floor is cold beneath my feet. 
Josie, my 10-year-old Mother Hubbard, blond hair still messed from her night of sleep. Her brown eyes glaring at me.

“Do not even think about yelling at me.” She warns me.

Brushing her hair back from her forehead, I lean down and whisper,
“I love you Josie. Thank you for helping.”

Her face softens “I Love you too Mom. Want some oatmeal?” She asked.
“No thanks baby, I need some of Uncle David’s coffee first.” I hug her tightly, hoping they all slept through the night.

Picking Josh up from his highchair, I wrinkle my nose. His diaper is saturated, and hanging to his bony knees.

“Well no wonder he is crying” David giggles.
Laying his head back in the brown recliner, feet raised, hands crossed over his stomach. Distinct dark circles under his eyes. Obviously, he did not get much sleep. More then likely he did not get any sleep.

“Could you please make some coffee,” I ask.

Carrying Josh back to his bedroom, the hair on my body stands on end. Telling my self, ‘everything is ok, there’s nothing here.’ I keep walking, one forced footstep at a time. The bedroom looks as it always does. The books are scattered across the brown-carpeted floor. Strange things are protruding out from underneath the beds. Once again, I wonder how many clothes, missing socks, and toys lay hidden. Yes, everything looks the same.

However, nothing feels the same.  It is hard to focus. What happens next? How do I continue going on in this world? Last night wasn’t real was it? What do I do?  Are there other people who have gone threw something like this? Never will I be the same, knowing that there is something like this in creation.
Noise in the doorway frightens me. Whirling around, David is standing in the doorway. Uncontrollable tears are rolling down his cheeks. Confirming that last night was real.

“Coffee is done Jenn.” He murmurs.