SIMON
Summer of 91
The 1965 Mustang fastback convertible roared forward, speeding down the winding road. The weight of vines and briars tangled around the imposing trees, dragging the massive limbs to the ground. Punching the gas, he barreled past a sign that read: “Welcome to Briarcliff.” Dirt swirled out behind the fast-moving car and the smell of fresh-cut grass lingered in the balmy air.
Coming to the end of the road, he slowed his car and pulled through the once stately mortared columns that flanked the long driveway.
A sign no longer visible under the overgrowth of briars creaked in the wind. Shadows from the tall trees pushed down on the windshield and blurred the landscape. He threw his car into park and killed the engine. Taking a deep breath, he swiped his hands over his face and then gripped the steering wheel hard. “I can do this.”
Taking a few more reviving breaths, he let go of the steering wheel and lifted a small velvet box off the seat.
The buzzing sound of cicadas greeted him as he climbed out of the car onto the graveled drive. He shoved the box into his pocket, ran his hands through his hair, and then slammed the door shut. “It’s now or never.” He exhaled shakily.
Walking forward, he took another deep breath and ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time
Lifting his hand, he knocked on the worn wooden screen door.
Rap.
Rap.
Rap…
Staccato footsteps sounded in the hallway and made their way slowly toward the door.
“I can do this.” He took a breath and smoothed his shaking hand over his hair again.
The door creaked open.
“Ohm,” she slurred. “What do you want?” Ice cubes clinked against the glass she held. Dark spots of condensation marred the pristine fabric of her white silk blouse and exposed the lacy red bra she wore underneath.
“Ma’am,” he choked. “Is Lola home?”
“Who’s asking?” Her lip curled in displeasure.
“Ah.” He wiped his sweaty palms on the fronts of his ragged jeans. “I’m Simon, Ma’am, Lola’s ah…boyfriend.”
“WH—who…?” She lifted her hand to shield her eyes from the late afternoon sun.
“Simon,” he repeated and shoved his shaking hands in the fronts of his jean pockets. His fingers curled around the box.
“Lola doesn’t have a boyfriend.” She gave him a look filled with disdain. “Certainly not the likes of yooooou,” she slurred and fell against the door making it creak in protest.
“Ma’am…” He reached up to steady her.
She knocked his hands away. “Don’t you dare touch me!” She shuddered. “I know what you are…” she said with an accusing tone.
“Sorry, I was just trying…”
“Don’t bother,” she cut him off. “I can tell what type you are.”
His brow creased. “Type, Ma’am?” he asked, confused.
She tittered. “Yeah, you’re trash.”
“Trash?” he asked, recoiling.
“That’s Ma’am to you.” She gave him a scathing look. “You’re too late, anyway.” She wobbled. “Someone beat you to it.”
“Beat me to it?”
“Oh…” She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “You don’t know?”
“Know what?” His skin prickled.
“She’s gone.”
“Where did she go?” He didn’t understand.
“Some place you can’t go,” she taunted meanly.
“I don’t understand.” His chest tightened. A feeling of dread washed over him.
“You’re a stupid one, aren’t you?”
“Listen lady,” he gritted. “I mean Ma’am…” He clenched his jaw tightly. “I just want to talk to her for a minute. Can you please tell her I’m here?”
“Well,” she exhaled, her bitter breath smelled of liquor and cigarettes. “I guess you can visit her if you really want,” she said a little too enthusiastically.
“Thank you,” he exhaled. He stood there staring at her, waiting for her to move or to yell to Lola that he was there. But she didn’t. “Ma’am…”
Her glazed over eyes looked at some distant point he couldn’t see.
He waved his hand in front of her face. “Ma’am…”
“She’s at the cemetery,” she said. “The one in town.”
His brows creased. “Is she at a funeral?”
She laughed/sobbed. “Yeah, she is…her own.”
He staggered backward, like he was hit. “I don’t understand.”
She tapped her head, hard. “Not too bright, are you?” Her drink sloshed over the sides of her glass and spilled onto the porch.
“What are you saying?”
“She’s dead!”
“How?” He felt like his insides were going to explode.
“Some lowlife knocked her up. Got her pregnant and she died giving birth. That’s how.”
Simon stood there, barely breathing. “What about the baby?”
“Not that it is any of your business…the baby died too.”
“No!” He shook his head. “When did she…I mean…?” He couldn’t finish.
“About a month ago,” she said. “Where you been, boy?” She leveled her gaze on him. “If you were her boyfriend…why weren’t you…?” She narrowed her eyes. “Was it you then?”
“What?”
“You’re the one that knocked her up, aren’t you?” Her face turned red. “And then you ran off just like all men do!” she scathed. “You left her to fend for herself.”
“I didn’t know.” His chest constricted.
“You killed her!”
“What?”
“You are just like all men!” She continued her tirade. “If you kept your dick in your pants my baby would still be alive. You killed MY BABY!” She slapped him across the face.
55-WAKING NIGHTMARES
Simon shuddered as his mind came back to the present. The ache of loss, fresh and new, clung to him—suffocating him. He couldn’t breathe. He gasped for air and leaned over. The pain squeezed the life from his body just like it had done so long ago. “I didn’t know.” Tears blurred his vision. Breathing hard, bitter rage unfurled in him. He clenched hold of his hair and jerked it outward. “I didn’t know!” he yelled, the misery in his voice tore through the cavernous room.
“Simon.” Adriane stepped forward. “It wasn’t your fault.”
Simon looked up, his face contorted in pain. “I can’t stop the fucking pain. Why can’t I stop the fucking pain, Adriane?” His body rippled and shuddered.
“Simon, breathe, it will fade soon.”
“No, it won’t.” Simon shook his head. “It won’t ever go away.” He wrapped his arms around his stomach. “Don’t you see, Adriane, I have to feed a different hunger, something other than the pain.”
“It will pass,” Adriane tried to reassure him.
Simon shook his head. “No, it won’t.”
“You have to fight the urge, Simon.”
“I can’t.” Simon wavered and pressed his hands to his head. “I have this overwhelming desire to rip you to shreds.”
“I know,” Adriane said. “I have the same urge, but don’t you see? Something or someone is pitting us against one another.” He tried to make him see. “We are all in this together…remember?”
“I want her…” Simon turned and looked at me. “I ache for her…” he inhaled deeply, his nostrils flared and his eyes locked on mine.
I looked over my shoulder. Surely, someone else had to be standing behind me. I looked to the left, right, and behind. Nope. He was talking about me. What the…?
“Evie, get out of here!”
I wanted to do what Adriane said but I couldn’t see a way out. “Where?”
“Anywhere,” he yelled, his voice had a hard edge.
I flinched from his tone.
“Sorry, Adriane,” said Simon. He lunged so fast his body was a blur.
“Adriane!�
� I screamed out a warning just in time.
Adriane twisted his body to the left. Simon missed and his body slammed into one of the columns so hard the room shook.
In an instant, Simon was back on his feet.
“Simon,” Adriane reasoned. “You don’t want to do this.”
“Oh, yes I do.” He dug in his feet, barreled forward, and rammed his head into Adriane’s gut as he tackled him. Their bodies flew backward and collided against the wall. The room shuddered. Limbs entangled, they slid to the ground as they battled against one another.
“Simon!” Adriane blocked his punch.
“I’m a little surprised you’re still so strong, Adriane,” Simon grunted and swung again.
Adriane blocked him again.
“Not bad,” Simon huffed. “At least you’re not a complete weakling.” He lifted his fist. “I would have felt bad if you had to bend to my will.” He slammed his fist into his face and the flesh gave beneath his hand.
I flinched from the sound. They were a blur of tangled limbs as they beat the shit out of each other and I couldn’t tell who was winning, let alone see them very clearly. Holding my belt tightly, I wanted to help but was afraid I would hit Adriane and not Simon.
“I wonder who will be the victor.”
I swung my head around. “Hanna?”
“That’s my name.” Hanna’s eyes flashed.
Instinctively, I stepped backward. Hanna looked different. “What are you doing here?”
Hanna shrugged and nodded her head in the direction of the blurred bodies. “I’m watching the fight, silly.” She propped one foot behind her and leaned back against the wall. Her fishnet stockings were ripped at the knee and one of her lace-up combat boots had come untied. She was still wearing her Mulder t-shirt, knotted in the back with her ragged jean shorts. Against the gloomy backdrop of the room, her bright blue hair seemed even more vibrant.
Hanna looked over at me and laughed.
“What’s so funny?” I fisted my hands.
“You, silly,” Hanna giggled harder.
“What?” My mouth dropped open stupidly.
“See,” said Hanna. She pointed at my face. “That’s what I’m talking about.”
“What are you talking about?” I felt my face.
“Your face,” she laughed. She sounded demented.
“Please shut your mouth.” Hanna laughed harder. “No, stop!” she wheezed. “I can’t take it.”
My skin prickled as I took another reflexive step back.
“Your face…you look just like a simpleton. Gosh, I wish I had a bone.” She pointed at my mouth. “I would shove it right there.”
I closed my mouth and tightened my hold on my belt.
“That’s better.” Hanna wiped her tearing eyes.
“Why are you here?” I was done listening to her physco babble.
“I already told you,” Hanna said. “I’m watching them.” She pointed into the room where Simon and Adriane were still fighting.
I didn’t know what to think. Nothing made sense. “Hanna, what are you saying?”
“Gawd, Evie, what’s the big deal?” Hanna rolled her heavily lined eyes. “Why should you be the only one allowed to watch?” she asked. “Well…besides, it’s your fault they are fighting in the first place.” Hanna turned back towards the fight and cupped her hands around her mouth. “Come on boys, is that all you got?”
I was pretty sure that I must be seeing things. Or ….I rubbed my eyes and dropped my hands again as the movie The Invasion of the Body Snatchers, popped into my mind. The person next to me looked like Hanna, and sounded like Hanna, but was it really Hanna? For some reason I didn’t think so. “What the hell?”
Hanna wagged her finger in my face. “You know you should really watch that foul mouth of yours.” She lifted her brow. “What will the boys think?”
“Are you out of your ever-loving mind?” My patience was at the end.
“Geez, Evie.” Hanna lifted her brows in mock horror. “Calm down. It doesn’t look like they’re going to kill each other.” She made a face, seemingly upset by the prospect.
“Hanna!”
“What?” Hanna widened her eyes and then pointed back into the room.
When I turned back around, the room was empty. “Where did they go?”
“Got me.” Hanna shrugged her shoulders.
“What the hell is going on?” I stomped my foot.
Hanna yawned and stretched her arms as though she didn’t even hear me.
“We have to find them.”
“Why?” Hanna looked around like she was admiring the architectural detail of the room.
“Adriane might need me.”
Hanna rolled her eyes. “You are such a drama queen, Evie. Obviously he doesn’t or he would still be here…right?”
“What is wrong with you?”
Hanna lifted her brow. “Hello…” She tapped the side of her head. “That seems to be the logical explanation, don’t you think?” Hanna sighed. “Gosh Evie, I always thought you were at least a few steps above stupid. Was I wrong in that assumption?”
I twisted my belt tighter.
Hanna sighed audibly and unhitched her body from the wall. She dragged her fingers over the column and looked upward.
Reflexively, I looked up, too, but didn’t see anything other than a dark smear where the ceiling should be. Frustrated, I looked around the room for the hole all my friends had disappeared through. It had to be here. Except no matter how hard I looked, I couldn’t see the hole. It had to be here. Lifting my hands, I ran them over the wall thinking maybe there was a hidden lever like the one Adriane used to open the bookcase earlier. Or maybe it was an optical illusion. Just like the wall with all the empty alcoves that moved further away every time I tried to get closer.
“What are you doing?” Hanna called out. She sounded very far away suddenly.
I ignored her and kept looking. There were bits of clothing and flesh on the floor. I walked around it and tried not to think about what it actually was. The torches on the walls flickered.
“Wait.” I stopped as a thought formed in my mind. If the torches were moving then it would indicate air was moving from somewhere, but I couldn’t figure out where it was coming from. I wanted out of the room, away from Hanna, who didn’t seem like Hanna at all. No, she was some weird look-alike Hanna, and she smelled odd too. “Who’s at the coffee house?” I looked over my shoulder to where Hanna had been standing but she wasn’t there. I spun around in the other direction but she wasn’t there either. And then the barest breath blew against my neck. I spun around again but there still wasn’t anyone there.
“Hanna?”
“Looking for me?” Hanna suddenly materialized at my side.
I fell backward. “What the …”
Hanna laughed maniacally.
I stepped away. “Where’s Scully, Hanna?”
“Oh, he’s around somewhere.” Hanna snapped her neck.
I heard the crack. Shit! “Y—you aren’t Hanna.”
“Why would you say that?” Hanna’s lips curved up into an eerie smile.
And it was not a normal smile, no—it scared the living crap out of me as fear gripped me hard. If this thing wasn’t Hanna, just what exactly was it? Every eff-ed up movie I had ever watched popped into my mind at once. The Thing, Alien, Communion, Fire in the Sky, and the list grew. Was this thing that looked like Hanna an alien? Did it eat Hanna and take over her body? Shit! Shit! Shit!
“You’re not going to find it, you know.” Hanna cracked her knuckles.
The sound echoed sharp, like a gunshot, and I flinched. “Why aren’t you answering my questions?” I spun around to see where weirdo Hanna was, but she was gone. Oh, hell no!
“Looking for me?”
Jerking around, I nearly collided with Hanna. “How did you do that?”
“Do what?” Hanna widened her eyes innocently.
“How did you get over here so fast?”
Ha
nna shrugged.
“Fine. Here’s one. How do you know what I’m looking for?” I asked just to see if she really did.
“Duh!” Hanna tapped her head, hard. It made a strange hollow sound. “You told me a couple minutes ago.”
“Reeeally?” My voice shook, in spite of the brave front I was putting up. “What am I looking for?”
Hanna crossed her arms. “A way out,” she stated smugly, with a bitchy ‘I-told-you-so’ look on her face.
Of course, pod-Hanna was right. A column seemed to pop up from nowhere and I ran into it. “Shit!” I rubbed my sore shoulder.
“Watch out, Evie?” called Hanna, once again sounding far away.
“What the hell is going on?” I threw my hands up in frustration. This was the second time I had run into a column, one I couldn’t see until I face-planted into it. Walking around in circles, I looked for a way out but couldn’t find one. As I looked around the room I had an epiphany.
Maybe it was all an illusion.
Going on a hunch, I closed my eyes and tried to feel with my body, instead of see with my eyes. Once I shut my eyes, everything came into focus. The room, what it looked like before when my friends had been here. Seeing with my mind, I moved slowly. A breeze pushed against my skin, ruffling my hair. I used it as a guide.
Luckily, I was good at finding things in the dark. When the lights went out, I would visualize my room in the dark, and I would ultimately find my phone or a flashlight. Of course, I never thought it would come into play in a real scenario, but apparently, it was a good skill to master.
So, I used that ability now, to see without seeing. It was kooky, crazy even, but I was glad for it. Reaching out my hand, I felt the smooth surface of stone and then my hand felt nothing.
I opened my eyes.
There was still a wall in front of me but I could still feel the breeze. Inhaling deeply, I could smell a hint of something different resonating in the air.
“Stop!” Hanna rushed unnaturally fast toward me.
Briarcliff Page 24
