Terribly Twisted Tales

by RABE, JEAN

  “She’s working.” Dave gaped at her profile. “I wonder what she’s drinking? I wonder what she does? Maybe she’s a diplomat, or some sort of business negotiator. Wish she’d talk to me. Wish I could meet her.”

  He stared, drinking in the vision. Then a thought occurred to him.

  “This all seems so real. Wonder if I can just jump to where she is? That’s only about six feet away.”

  He gathered himself for a great leap. “If I can catch that lower edge, maybe I can swing my foot up and pull myself through—”

  Something yanked on his jacket, twisting Dave to the right. “Hey, stop!” he cried, losing sight of the lady. Something else caught him roughly by the collar and sleeve, dragged him to the concrete divider between north-and southbound traffic, and dropped him. He clenched his eyes shut as the skin on his left cheek hit the abrasive surface and tore.

  “Ow! What the—”

  A huge rush of air and noise passed inches from his shoes. Dave realized a truck horn was blaring. It had been blaring for long seconds. At him.

  “Shouldn’t look at birds when the light’s against you.”

  Dave opened his eyes and turned his head to regard the chin of the burly bald man who’d saved him. “Th-thank you,” he whispered, full of disappointment. His hands trembled.

  The man pulled him to his feet. “That Freightliner would’a made you a hood ornament in another second.”

  “Yeah,” Dave replied. Every bone in his body ached, and he also now owned a raging headache. His fatigue, chased away by the meal he’d eaten a short while ago, returned with double force. He stood on the divider, slumping and feeling stupid.

  “C’mon, buddy, light’s green.” The same burly man partnered him across the second part of the highway. “You okay?” he asked when they reached the curb.

  Dave forced himself to nod. “Sure. Sorry. Uh,” his mind groped for a plausible explanation. “I’m on a new prescription. It wipes me out sometimes.”

  “Bummer. My wife went through that with her heart condition.” His rescuer lifted a hand in farewell. “Watch yerself.”

  “Right,” Dave acknowledged, watching the man disappear among the people on the sidewalk. He wondered if he could function well enough on his own to reach his apartment. He had no choice.

  The few friends I have are all at work. I can’t disturb them for a ride in the middle of the day.

  Bennett’s Beds was just a few doors away on his right. If he could reach that, he’d be safe until he felt well enough to make the trip back to Cloud City.

  Maybe I’ll follow Sharron’s advice. I can call a cab to take me home. I’ll pick up my car in the parking lot at work some other time. He shook his head, noticing again how sore his muscles felt. I’m in no shape to drive. Or do much else right now.

  Enticing aromas from the coffee shop he was passing made him turn inside. At the counter he ordered a double hot chocolate and asked for two aspirin. The understanding manager dug two tablets from her own stash and presented them with Dave’s cup. After paying and thanking her, he took his chocolate to the bistro tables in the tiny trellised garden between buildings.

  Peaceful. No one else here, Dave thought, popping the aspirin into his mouth and chasing them with a mouthful of rich chocolate. Nothing at all to worry about. Except my future. What the blazes is happening to me?

  But he couldn’t keep his thoughts on himself. The lovely lady from his visions intruded. He remembered how intent she’d appeared seated behind her desk, working. Dave lost himself again while visualizing her.

  She looks so real. His tired eyes widened. Wait, that’s more than . . . she IS real!

  This vision, which opened along the upper back wall of the garden, showed Dave a worrisome view of the lady seated in a carved armchair. An angry man, much larger than she, confronted her. It seemed that the longer she kept her composure, the more disturbed her visitor became.

  Wish he wouldn’t throw his fists around like that, Dave thought. He’s going to hurt her. Despite his aches, his muscles were already tensed to help. But how can I get to her? Frustration bloomed in his mind.

  The substantial appearance of the vision intrigued him again. Maybe I CAN climb into it, Dave thought. Abandoning his chocolate, he chose the table closest to his vision. Stepping first on the chair, he set his other foot on the uneven wrought iron. The table wobbled as Dave reached up.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” The manager’s voice ripped Dave’s attention away from his goal. “I’m calling the cops!”

  His vision winked out. Sighing, Dave returned to his feet to the patterned brick beneath the tables of the coffee garden.

  “No need. I’m going, I’m going.” Feeling as if something very precious had been torn from his grasp, he again joined the other pedestrians on the sidewalk.

  Pushing through the door into the air-conditioned atmosphere of Bennet’s Beds a few minutes later offered Dave a sense of something familiar he welcomed. The brands of the ideal posture bed, the one called “perfect sleeper,” and the new space-age springless foam mattress felt like old friends.

  Dave stopped, startled. If these are my friends, maybe Sharron was right—perhaps I DO need analysis and a new job.

  He glanced around the trendy place, hoping he looked the part of a customer who’d entered the store for the first time. Like Cloud City, the store was built on the outlot property of a group of medium-sized stores forming a small mall. Bennet’s had the room to stock a few lamps, duvets, quilts, and comforters in addition to mattresses. The walls were all hard dark surfaces in purples, greens, and granites, which contrasted against the pale mattresses. Woven sisal covered the floor. The lighting was modern and upscale, with a background of wordless rock music.

  “Help you?” A chunky young woman with a gold bolt through one thick black eyebrow and a ring with a black bead in her lower lip approached him. Part of the dark blue and green jewelry around her neck was tattooed there. She wore a scooped neckline to show it off.

  “No, thanks,” Dave replied. “Just looking.”

  “You’re the fifth one ‘just lookin’ today. Well, if you need anything, my name’s Brandie.” She’d already begun to sway back to the office area, her thick black boots thumping on the carpet. “It’s from some old song. My parents are the ultimate hippies.”

  “Thanks,” Dave said, turning toward the main display. Suddenly his fingers itched to grab a mattress and drag it into a corner. The far corner.

  What is it about that corner? Dave thought, studying it. He clenched his hands and shoved them into his jacket pockets, hoping to keep them still. They wanted to slap the invisible gnats he could barely see in his peripheral vision.

  Spotlit, the area contained the store’s primary display of a reproduction antique sleigh bed covered by a beautiful cream and gold quilt with matching shams and a dust ruffle.

  Easy, Dave cautioned himself. I’m here to comparison shop. Brandie doesn’t have to know I’m from the competition down the street.

  He felt suddenly odd, odder than he had all day. No, Dave corrected himself. This is more odd than I’ve felt in a month or more. His hand tremors turned into uncontrollable tics. His feet wanted to run, but his knees felt like water. Muscles throughout his body cramped.

  Can’t have been dinner, Dave reasoned as that and wilder possibilities chased one another through his mind. Too soon for food poisoning to kick in. Can it be something in Bennet’s air conditioner? Maybe I’ve got an allergy.

  Then he saw her. His mouth opened in amazement. The willowy form, the dark hair, and the wine-colored eyes—no mistake, it was the poised beauty again. This vision hung in the upper back corner of the shop, above the expensive sleigh bed.

  This is the fourth time I’ve seen her today. And this time she’s looking straight at me!

  Dave gasped as a man in blue robes with long pulled-back hair stepped into view beside her. That’s got to be a weapon, he shuddered, looking at the thing clamped to
the man’s left forearm. It looked like a cross between a Star Trek phaser and an overlarge pea shooter. When the man raised that arm, Dave reacted.

  “Attack!” Dave screamed, suddenly diving behind the nearest mattress, willing his mind to think fast. “We’re being attacked! She’s being attacked! Got to save her—she’s in danger!”

  “What?” Brandie trotted into the display area, bending in half to peer at Dave behind the bed. “You’re yelling.”

  “Get down, they’re firing at us! Mattresses—the mattresses will help protect us. Grab one. We’ve got to pile them all in that corner. It’s the best place, the safest place. I’ll be able to get to her from there.” Dave looked at Brandie, eyes blazing. The knowledge of what he needed to do consumed him. He no longer felt worn out or peculiar. “We have to get to that corner without them seeing us.”

  Brandie didn’t move. She stood still, gaping, pale blue eyes expressionless with shock.

  “Why don’t you understand?” Dave hissed. “We’re in danger here. Help me!”

  “Uh, yeah,” Brandie replied, looking at him like he was a refugee from a loony academy. “Sure.” Reaching into her skirt pocket, she flipped her cell phone open and began punching buttons with both thumbs.

  “Don’t do that! They can triangulate on those things and find us instantly!” Dave surged forward, backhanding Brandie’s cell phone into the air. It landed, skittering across the carpet beneath a bed on the far side of the display. Dave grabbed Brandie’s wrist and dragged her behind his shelter.

  “Hey, that hurts! Now I’m in trouble,” the girl whimpered. “I’m gonna end up as a statistic on ‘Cold Case Files’.”

  “Get down!” Dave pulled on her arm, making Brandie crouch beside him, and whispered, “Hey, look. I’ll bet these things flying by my head are what her enemies use to watch her. That means they’ve been watching me!”

  “Oh, you believe in all those conspiracy theories.” Brandie’s voice wavered as she tugged against his hand. “I really think you ought to calm down. There’s nobody here but you and me.”

  “No, see? She’s right there.” He pointed over the top of the mattress, and then took a quick look around the shop before hunkering down again. “We’ve got to save her!”

  “Save who?”

  “The woman with wine-colored eyes in the corner!”

  “I’m the only woman here, Mister.”

  There wasn’t time to explain. Launching himself from a kneeling position was hard, but somehow Dave rolled across the display bed and landed with both feet squarely beneath him. He still gripped Brandie’s wrist. She bounced along behind.

  “Mister, I don’t—ooowwww!” She hit the floor on one hip, her boots adding thunder to her landing.

  “We’ve got to get over there,” panted Dave, nodding to the far side of the room. “But how do we get there without them seeing us? Without them firing at us?”

  “I thought this was gonna be a no-brainer cush job,” whimpered Brandie. “I quit! Yeowwwwww!”

  Dave scrambled up, ducked his head, and tumbled across the next bed. This time, his rotations broke his hold on Brandie’s arm. She managed a lopsided somersault that angled away from him and scuttled crablike across the aisle between and under the displays, aiming for her cell phone.

  “Yeuch,” Brandie’s voice sounded muffled from beneath a thick mattress and box spring set. “Dust bunnies!”

  Something within Dave’s mind allowed no hesitation during his assault. “Come on, come on, we’ve got to make it to the portal and save her!” he cried, diving over another bed. “Help me—give me a diversion, anything.”

  “You’re the worst nightmare ever!” Brandie screamed. Dave heard her scuffling as she worked her way beneath the next bed. “Go away. My karma’s low on beauty, and I—I must be asleep. This is definitely my worst nightmare ever!”

  “That did it!” Dave was only two beds from his goal. He could see the beautiful lady more clearly now. She was bracketed by two men as tall as she. They were wearing dark blue robes. The second carried what looked like a small notebook, and wrote on it with a metal stylus. All three watched Dave with an intensity he found uncomfortable. Only the lady’s eyes showed sympathy.

  Sympathy? Why should she be sympathetic? It’s her I’m trying to save!

  Dave abandoned caution. Roaring defiance at his lady’s captors, he rose to his full height, grabbed a mattress in both hands, and threw it into the corner atop the store’s expensive sleigh bed. The bed creaked and bounced, but it held together. Dave followed the first mattress with another, and another, and another.

  Brandie howled her delight as she reached her cell phone and activated it. “Yeah, 911,” she yelled. “This is Brandie Carter. I’m at Bennet’s Beds at the corner of Westmere and Highway 87. I work here. Send someone fast—there’s a crazy man in here throwing things.”

  Brandie’s call did not divert Dave’s concentration. “No one else will help you, but I’m going to,” panted Dave to the woman in his vision, tossing another mattress onto the pile. They formed an unstable jumble reaching halfway up the wall. He didn’t feel the sweat running down his face and body. He also didn’t notice his arm muscles straining, didn’t notice when his jacket seams split, didn’t notice when his favorite shirt caught a sleeve against something and tore its whole length. The rags followed every movement he made, tattered flags accompanying his crusade.

  “Right, right,” Brandie’s voice floated to his ears, but Dave paid no attention to what she was doing. “I’ll hang on as long as I can. I don’t want to be alone with this nut. He’s tearing up the whole display, tossing mattresses right and left, know what I mean? No, I’m all right for now, I’m under a bed. He’s not yanking me down on the floor any more. Sexual attack? No, he hollered something about seeing a woman, and that she was being attacked. So he’s trying to save her, I guess. No, I’m the only person in the store, other than him.”

  Dave flung the last two mattresses. The final one teetered on the top of the pile, the other slipped halfway down and stopped. “Doesn’t matter,” he panted. “I can reach her now. To the mattresses!”

  He began toiling up the slope. It was more slippery than he’d imagined. Frustrated at having to waste a few more seconds, he sat and tore off his shoes and socks.

  “I can do this.” He attacked the pile of mattresses like a rock climber. “I can do this, I can save her!”

  “Stop right there.”

  Dave hadn’t heard police car sirens, nor seen their lights. Surprised, he glanced over one shoulder toward the door and saw an officer in black leveling a gun at him.

  “Thanks.” Brandie emerged from beneath a bed, streaked with dust and an occasional ball of pale fluff. She snapped her cell phone closed, and ran as fast as her stocky frame and thick boots would allow to the protection of three additional uniformed people squeezing through the door.

  “I’m Officer Peterson.” The gun pointed at Dave didn’t waver. “Come down nice and peaceful.”

  Dave’s pile of mattresses shuddered. His mind handed him an uncomfortable thought. If I go down, I get arrested. There’s no other direction to go. He looked over his shoulder again. Unless my visions are real.

  The policeman’s cold eyes confronted his. “Come on, buddy,” Officer Peterson said. “Back down real quiet, and you won’t get hurt. Nobody needs to get hurt here.”

  For a moment, the ludicrous situation overwhelmed Dave.

  Another nasty thought washed a wave of despair through him. Everything I’ve ever worked for is in ruins: my job, my good standing as a citizen, and the respect of my friends. To think it’s all been brought about by a few weeks without much sleep and visions of a beautiful woman.

  He almost wanted to die right then and there. But there was a little steel still left in his psyche.

  “Dave.”

  The breath of a voice with a foreign lilt tickled his ears. He looked up. The man with pulled-back white hair had put away his strange weapon, and wa
s now gesturing for him. The lady beside him nodded encouragement.

  “Da-ve.”

  She spoke for the first time. It sounded like “Davih.” Her voice was pure velvet.

  The first word I hear out of her mouth is my name! Elation overcame Dave’s fear and despair. He forgot the police and gaped at the lady’s lovely face.

  The officer’s voice held little patience now. “I’ve tried to make this easy for you, buddy. If you don’t come down from there now, I’m gonna have to use tear gas. Pass me my mask, Finnegan.”

  The tall man still beckoned, and now even the lady held out her hand, urging him closer.

  “Da-ve.”

  He moved before he knew he’d made a decision, surging up with the last strength in his trembling legs.

  In that instant the lady’s hand vanished. She vanished, and so did both men in blue robes. As he passed the edge of his vision, icy cold and blackness beyond any he’d experienced in his life enveloped him. Dave felt an odd, sickening rotation, twirling headfirst down a bottomless well where an occasional star winked.

  It was too much. Freezing, disoriented, he blacked out.

  Dave’s first conscious thought was that he wanted the beautiful lady to come back and say his name again.

  But she won’t be here, he reasoned, slitting one eye, and then closing it in despair. This place is cold, dark, and musty, and I’m lying on a hard surface. I’ve got to be in jail. I’ve failed.

  Disappointment clouded his mind and made his heart stutter. A tear leaked across the bridge of his nose, leaving a trail that cooled rapidly. It was hard to think; wads of cotton seemed to absorb each thought. His throat was as dry as the Sahara, and his muscles bunched as he pulled himself into a fetal position.