Short story for a 500 word contest

Demonly Dreams









The night was dark. A thick blanket of fog draped the streets. I awoke from my two hour nap in a cold sweat. The room smelled fresh. The windows were open and the scents of rain poured over the house. I could hear the sounds of waters running the curbs on the street. The trees, those Chinese elms lining the lawns were losing their leaves in the late night autumn breeze.

The clock read 2:30. From the cupboard I pulled the bottle of Beam and a glass. I took the fresh elixir I had poured with me to the door by my smokes. Inhaling a long drag I gulped off the glass and bellowed smoke from my open warm mouth. All I could do was to try to get the memories from my mind's eye which woke me. I was another of the long set of dreams haunting my nights. Just the thought of the memory made me gulp down the rest of my soulful spirit and chase after slumber. I knew the boy would be up in a few hours and I did not want to be exhausted. This was one of the few days we get together alone, having the time to be free.

I quickly reset myself with another glass of bourbon. Tonight's memory was of Elise's suicide. It is as though it was yesterday, yet it was a lifetime ago. More than one. We were kids then. We were planning out way to conquer the world still. Yeah, like we really had some chance. Well, maybe she did. I was too busy rebelling against it. Shit, what do I mean was, most of me still is. And now I have spawned an ally in my fight against them all. The biggest problem is in all those years since her death I have come absolutely no closer to figuring out whom "them all" is.

The pristine image of her body lay limp in that chair. Her head slanted backward in the chair. The almost-black streaks were still running down the wall. And I had been outside the door talking to her before she pulled the trigger. It was now twenty years later and I had never shaken the feeling of futility which took over my body that night. The last portrait I was left with was that beautiful woman being lowered in her casket. I just stood there with not an answer to the questions that would plague me to this day, their number always increasing.

It was her time to be visiting. My demon memories haunt me in spells. They come in shifts taking over my nightly visions. I would say they creep in, but that is never the case at all. They hit more like sudden thunderstorms. You know they are coming because there are signs of them, only you are never sure of how severe they will truly be. Not to mention, you are never wholly sure whose turn it is to be present.

The liquor was finally having its way with me. Me being a willing victim. I closed the door and went back to bed. I crawled in and threw the blankets over me. I thought how comforting it would be to have a body in the bed with me, even if it were just a hollow and vacant one. Yet I knew there were more hassles there than it would ave been worth, really.

Morning came, and I was jerked awake by both the alarm and my son. He had run in when the alarm went off and jumped on the bed.

"What are we doing today daddy??

"Oh hell, I have not a clue. So you are sure it is morning already?"

"Yeah! Can we go to Tia Sophia's for breakfast?"

I had to think for a moment. Then I remembered Dannie was working today. "Sure. Go and get dressed hito. I have to get a cup of coffee in me before we go. Ok?"

" 'k daddy."

I never thought I would make it to thirty. Now here I was past it with a child. I had a new sense of life watching him grow. Those joyful and carefree steps of his as he bounded to his room to get dressed were a part of the cleansing I hoped was taking over my life.

We sat at a table over looking the street. We watched the people parading down the streets taking in the galleries and the nice day at the park in the plaza. Dannie brought my coffee and Kieranâs orange juice as we sat.

"Hey there, cutie."

"Hey there, doll. How is the morning?"

"I was talking to Kieran," a wry smile stamps her face. "But hey to you too."

"Hi Dannie thanks for the juice," he piped in shyly.

"Damn, what was I thinking? Only babies are cute."

"I am not a baby, daddy"

After out plates of huevos rancheros were brought, I remembered I had not even asked how he slept. Kieran had always been plagued by screaming fits in the night, even when he was an infant. For a while it had turned out to be something physically wrong with him. When that was treated and he still had the problem it just became a routine everyone dealt with.

"So you sleep well last night hito?"

"Yeah, I guess," he said taking a bite of tortilla.

"That is good to hear." He never really talked of what woke him up in the middle of the night though. There had always been a part of me feeling the futile guilt over it. Some sort of inherent sin I had passed on to him.

We ate more and he flirted shyly with Dannie and the other girls at the restaurant. I gazed our the window trying to come up with things to do. Bits and pieces of conversations of the passers by were over heard as I sat drinking my coffee.

"That astrologer woman told me that I had Mercury in retrograde, whatever the hell that meant, the middle-aged man told the woman he was with."

"Really, do you put so much stock in that?" she half snorted.

"Not really. . . . .But I guess it would help if I knew what it was supposed to mean."

"Then why did you ask?"

No shit, my thoughts exactly. Then again this was coming from a guy that only knows his sign because he can turn it into a sarcastic joke. I thought Kieran and I may just walk up to The Crosses this morning after brunch. It is such a stunning view of the city. There is solace to be found there to start a fun day.

"Daddy, who was the woman in the box that got lowered in the dirt?"

I got so shocked by the question I ignored it at first. Somehow I just knew he was asking about Elise. I knew the only death in the family he had seen or been anywhere near was that of his great-grandmother the year he was born. There was no way he could remember that. It was after the second time this wonderful little eight year old asked I could deny him no longer.

"What color was the box?"

"It was a long white box and it had bars on the sides."

"That is called a coffin. And her name was Elise. She was a good friend of your daddy"s, hito. She died a long time ago. Long before you were born."

"Oh. . . . . .Was she nice? She looked really pretty."

"Yes she was nice. And yes she was a beautiful woman." I sat there in silence for a minute. I tried to swallow what it was my son was asking without choking on my coffee. "Where did you see her?"

"I have seen her in my dreams. I saw her picture the other day when I got in the photo albums. You were upset I had made a mess, so I did not ask you then."

"She is in your dreams a lot then?"

"Only now though. She did not used to be I think. I can't remember."

"That is ok hito. She is nothing to be afraid of." My mind raced to the thought, was that all he had seen though?