A distinct suspicion began to cross my mind that I was being buttered up, or beef stewed up, as it were. Continuing to eat, I kept the corner of my eye on Charlene. I don’t think she’ll come at me with a knife, but I wanted no surprises either. After I finished my stew, Char asked if I wanted seconds. It was tempting, but I wanted to address whatever Char wanted to talk about.
Charlene returned to the table and announced, “Nathan, there has been something looming over me since the doctor gave me the all-clear,” she coughed and blushed. “To return to all activity.” She fell silent for a few moments; finally, she said, “You have been pressuring me to make love. I need you to stop.”
“I have stopped. It has been some time since I’ve tried to make love with you. I don’t understand.”
“Nathan, I need you to stop asking at all. It hurts when I have to refuse you.”
Confusion clouded my mind, after a moment, it became all so clear. Charlene no longer loves me. My failure to protect both her and Moiraine at that “f-in” corner has severed her love for me. I hung my head down and asked, “Do you want a divorce?”
“Divorce? I said nothing of divorce. I don’t want to make love anymore, Nathan.” She sounded as if she was trying to be gentle about her assertion. At least, she still cares for me.
“I don’t understand. Your sex drive has always been as strong as mine, stronger sometimes.” I forced myself not to remember any of the numerous occasions my statement brought to mind. “Charlene, I love you. Do you still love me?”
“Love has nothing to do with it. I don’t want to engage in sex anymore. That part of my life is over.”
“You mean our life.”
“Nathan, if you can’t redirect your sex drive to other pursuits, I will understand if you take on a lover.”
My voice became heated as I screamed, “Liar!” Sarcastically I added, “Aren’t we trying to be the modern woman? While by nature, you are not a jealous woman, but every time another woman even innocently flirted with me in front of you, you would do two things. First, you would act miffed at me for the rest of the day. Second, you would boff my brains out that night.”
Charlene said, sounding indignant, “I said I would understand if you took a lover, not that I would want to know it.” Char picked-up my bowl and took it into the kitchen.
I went into the kitchen to face her, and in a softer voice, I pleaded, “Charlene, I don’t want to take a lover. I want you, but I understand how you feel. How could you want a man in your bed who couldn’t protect his family?”
“Nathan, you saved my life.”
“I didn’t save your life. Moiraine saved your life. I only stopped the bleeding.”
“This isn’t about you and Moiraine. This is about me. And why do you think you didn’t protect your family? Don’t you remember what happened? I think your reasoning has been colored by your ridiculous idea of what a hero is.”
“You say this is about you. What has changed you if not what happened at the corner?”
Frustration sang out in her words as she yelled at me, “This,” Charlene pulled off her shirt. “This is what happened.” She started crying. “This is what happened.” There on her chest, running long and wide, was a scar. It is the most hideous scar I have ever seen. It is easily an inch wide and raised about the same amount. It meandered between her breasts, stopping a couple of inches above her navel. “I’m ugly. My body is ugly. How can a woman feel like making love with this repulsive thing on her body?”
“It doesn’t matter to me.” Trying to console her, I started to place my arms around her, and she slapped them away.
“You don’t understand. It matters to me!”
“What I don’t understand is why didn’t you tell me about the scar? There must be something we can do. If it is so important to you, we can take you to the best plastic surgeon there is. I’ll work harder than ever to pay for it.”
“Men and their trying to fix everything. Somethings you can’t fix. This is a keloid scar, Nathan. If a doctor tries to remove it, it will come back, maybe even worse. I can’t take that outcome. I would be even more repugnant, if that’s even possible.” She took a breath and glared at me. “The worst thing of all, the cruelest thing you have ever done to me is lie.”
“Char, what do you mean? I haven’t lied to you.”
“It was a lie of omission. Perhaps the worst kind of lie.” In a quieter and sinister voice, she asked, “Why didn’t you tell me of the baby we lost on that corner? Why, Nathan, why?”
“Damn doctor! I told him to keep that from you.”
“The doctor never said a word to me. I felt the signs. I already knew there was a life growing inside my womb. I planned to tell you and Moiraine that night.”
“Forgive me. I was so scared, Charlene. I was afraid the news would reverse your recovery.”
“Nathan, you can’t live your life being afraid. You denied me the chance to grieve with my husband the loss of my baby, of our baby! I needed your strength, and you pretended everything was back to normal. Every day you stayed your tongue was like pushing that bullet further into my heart. I began to hate you. The thought of being intimate with you made me sick to my stomach.” The waterworks began again. She stormed out of the kitchen and to our bedroom.
The full breadth of my failure was now complete and laid out bare to the world. What could I do? What can I say? There was nothing I could do, and there was nothing I could say. My marriage was destroyed. I had struck a blow to Char far more painful than any my fist could ever deliver. After a few minutes, Charlene returned to the living room. She immediately picked-up her crafting and started working with it. I paid it no mind. Returning to my place at the table, I sat and dwelled on our plight. Until it was time to go to bed, we remained silent. We went to bed and laid there in the dark until I spoke. “There is no way I can atone for what I did, but perhaps I can finally give you what I should have the moment you woke from the coma.” I lifted myself up into the astral plane. The room, even in its darkened state, has a strange light all around and emanating from nowhere.
Turning to my wife, I called out to her, “Char, will you join me here?” She began to lift out of her body. Stretching out my hand, “Please. I want to show you something.” She placed her hand in mine, then in the span of three heartbeats, we arrived at our destination. We stood at the grave of our son. It had a simple gravestone that read ‘Baby Embers Son.’
Char looked at the grave, then back to me and back to the grave. “You buried our son?”
“Of course, I did. We didn’t know him yet, but he was loved. He was created by love.” Charlene dropped to her knees. Reached out and brushed her hands across the chiseled letters of the marker. She wailed for a few moments. My instincts told me to reach out and hold her; to give her comfort, but my instincts seem to be betraying of late, so I stayed my embrace. Char’s crying slowed to weeping. She took to caressing her belly with one hand the same as she had stroked it when Moiraine was gently cradled in there. I will never know the agony of a mother’s empty womb. I can only know the pain a father feels at the loss of the child. She reached out with a hand. “Do you need help up?”
“No, you ass. I need you to hold me,” she snapped, then the wailing began anew.
Without hesitation, I kneeled next to Char and placed my arm around her. She leaned into me, still wailing. The sorrow of the day I buried my son flooded over me along with the memory. As I cried with my wife, I made cooing and comforting sounds, then spoke, “I am sorry I failed our family.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Char put a hand on my shoulder to leverage herself up. It is strange how, on the astral plane, some rules apply both here and on the material plane, and others don’t. Rules like gravity. I feel just as heavy, yet I can travel to any place or person with but a thought. I rose beside my wife. We stood there a few moments more looking down at our son’s grave. I spoke, “I’m sorry, my son. I failed.” A wave of melancholy threatened to wash me into a
full-blown depression from which I was not sure I would recover.
Char scrubbed a hand across her face to wipe away the tears. She turned and faced me, then wiped my tears away. She shook and straightened a bit as if to brace herself. “You need to get over your ridiculous idea you failed us somehow. I will prove you did not fail.”
“How?”
“With your own memory. Take me in your dreams and replay the scene at the corner.”
“I don’t want to remember it. The pain of it is so great.”
“If you can see what I know, the pain will vanish. I would not ask you to go through it again if I didn’t see relief in it for you. Trust me, Husband mine.”
I took hold of her hand, “Are you ready?” Char nodded. I threw us into my dreams. I placed us outside my memory of the corner. The scene was frozen at the moment after Moiraine yelled “Daddy.”
“Nathan, I don’t see Moiraine and me. Why aren’t we in this dream?”
“I am only showing my memory. I didn’t see either of you until after my fight with the entity.”
Char moved to a spot in my dream out of my line-of-sight during the fight. Char’s hand went unconsciously to her chest for a brief moment. Her own memory of the moment must be tormenting her. Char spoke up, “This is where I was standing at the corner. Can you put a dream image of Moiraine standing directly in front of me?” I imagined Mo as instructed. “Good. Is this an accurate image of Moiraine?”
“As accurate as my memory affords. It is my memory of her from that day.”
“Perfect. Start your memory playing but stay outside of it and watch.”
I began the memory.
Mark Galos’ head turned in Moiraine’s direction, and a smile of realization came to his face. Time slowed down. Time stopped as he swung his arm around to aim. As the end of the barrel passed my head, I reached out and grabbed his wrist. I pushed his arm up as I heard a shot ring out. A part of me prayed the bullet would miss its mark as we wrestled for the gun.
“That’s enough, Nathan. Freeze it!” I complied.
Pain from this memory started to grab hold of me, and I bellowed my anguish with a primal sound. Stay in the here and now. It is only a memory, nothing more, I thought, trying to convince myself. I pushed most of the pain aside, but some always remains when I remember a tragedy in my life. The tender touch of my wife came to my face.
“Nathan, I am sorry. I never imagined it from your point of view. I am so proud of you. You responded braver than anyone I know.”
Turning to look in my wife’s eyes, “I only did what had to be done. The entity would have kept shooting and maybe killed Mo; maybe other children.”
“I want you to see this. Take us back to the instant before the gun went off.” Everything in this dream blurred and reformed back to the moment. “Excellent.” Char ran back to where she was standing with Mo directly in front of her. “Okay, look where the barrel is pointing. Follow the path the bullet will take from the moment before he fires. Draw a line in the dream. I know you can do it. You have an amazing mind, Nathan.”
Doing as instructed, I painted in a laser beam between the end of the gun barrel going straight and true. “Done.”
“I can’t see the line.”
“Wait for it.” A can of aerosol Lysol materialized in my hand, and I started spraying it across the beam. The mist revealed the path of the laser.
“Now, you’re just showing off.”
I smiled as I showed the beam. Reaching Moiraine’s stand-in, the terminus of the beam was squarely in the middle of Mo’s forehead. My heart skipped several beats at seeing where his pistol was aimed.
After a moment, Char said, “Now, play the instant the gun fired.” Doing as she asked, I played the memory for a heartbeat longer and froze it. The flash of the muzzle was as I remembered, only frozen in time. “Nathan, use the laser beam again. Tell me, where is the beam hitting?”
Looking to the end of the beam, Charlene was standing where she had been. The dot of the beam painted a spot on my wife’s chest. “It’s right where the bullet hit you.”
“That’s right. In the slice of time between before the shot, and when the gun fired, you had ruined his aim enough to miss our daughter! You saved her life. You save the life of our precious Moiraine.”
“But the bullet still hit you. I didn’t save you.”
Anger flared in her voice, “Do you think for one minute I would not have thrown myself in front of any bullet to save Moiraine?”
“No, you would not have hesitated one iota.”
“This is no different, Nathan,” she paused a moment to let all this sink into my incredibly thick head. Then in a tender voice, “Are we done finally with all this foolishness about you failing?” I nodded.
It felt like the weight of the world has been lifted from my shoulders. No more would I lament about my actions at the corner. “Dobby is free!” I yelled in my best impression of Dobby.
Char shook her head at my outburst but laughed too. “Can we go back to bed? I’m bushed.” As fast as the speed of thought, we returned our bed exactly as we had left it. Charlene stated, “After all the dream and astral travel, I bet you are starving.”
Laying there for a moment, I wasn’t shaking or feeling ravenous. “A snack would be nice, but I can go without.” Char retrieved some Circus cookies and half a glass of milk for me from the kitchen. She had also grabbed some chocolate from her stash but didn’t share any of it. She does love her chocolate. I pondered where she hides it.
My mind was buzzing with thoughts of what must still be done. I cannot dally; too many people are counting on me. I have a plan as to how to handle Mr. Squidman, formerly known as Mr. Shadowman. I need help to do what I have planned. The sound of Charlene’s gentle sleeping could be heard. Not wanting to disturb her sleep, I eased myself out of bed and proceeded to the couch in the living room with my cell phone in hand.
My thumbs flew over the too-small keyboard on my phone. The group text I sent to the cast and crew explained what I needed from them. Enough of the cast agreed to help me. I hope it’s enough. They were tired of being the victims of a monster from a lower plane. Truth be told, all it has ever done to the cast and crew is scare them. It would feed off the terror they felt. The real danger is to me. The wounds I suffered from Mr. Squidman are still there. The missing pieces of my astral body still ooze with my essence. Will they ever heal? The song “Unstoppable” by Rascal Flatts began playing in my mind. “You find your faith has been lost and shaken…” I let the music play out.
I texted Lizzy asking for her help. I told her what I needed. She agreed to help, but she took a few minutes to text back with her answer. I’m sure she thought hard on my request.
My plans for dealing with Mr. Squidman were all set. It was all a little complicated, which scared me. Helmuth Von Moltke wrote, “No battle plans survive contact with the enemy.” True words. I could plan and plan again, but it can all fall apart the moment I confront the enemy. If I do not win the day, I surely will die, or if I live, I may be but a soulless husk. Shivering at that last thought, I steadied myself then went to bed. As I closed my eyes, I thought, It is a good plan, but is it good enough?
New day, new worries. The theater was brightly lit. Every bulb must be burning. My headquarters for this action was my dressing room. Group texting everyone involved, I went over my plans again. My final text to the group read, “Next time you hear from me will be the start of everything. Once everyone is in position, signal me.” My stomach was doing flip flops. I hadn't been this nervous since I asked Char’s father for his blessing to propose to her. It felt like I was on the cusp of a battle too.
I received the signal. Everyone was in position. Where is Lizzy? She said she would be here. I thought. I can’t wait for her. If another cast member gets cold feet, all is lost.
Trying to calm my nerves, I stood before the mirror in my dressing room. The man who was reflected there was Don Quixote. I was in full make-up and costume. I spok
e out loud to no one, “It’s showtime.” Looking over my shoulder in the mirror, there stood Lizzy. I smiled, “Lizzy, you showed! Thank you.”
“Nathan, I think you are a fool for trying this. It would be far better to leave it alone and unpestered.”
“If only I could. Too many people are counting on me. This production is the livelihood for dozens of people. I can’t perform if I am always looking over my shoulder, waiting to be attacked.”
“No, I suppose you can’t. Well, at least you have the necklace. Perhaps it will help a little.” Lizzy looked right at me, and her expression changed. “You’re not wearing it, are you?”
“I thought it would clash with my costume.”
“That is not funny! How did you ever attract a wife? It wasn’t based on your brains; I can tell you that.” She huffed, then asked, “I suppose you can’t postpone the fireworks, can you?” I shook my head. “Where is it? On your dresser, no doubt.”
In a cold, steely voice, I stated, “It is around my daughter's neck, and there it will stay.” Lizzy averted her eyes. With softness, “Can I still count on you? If not, I will adjust my plan.”
“You can count on me. I don’t understand why I agreed to all this.” Lizzy announced.
“I know. Even if you are not conscious of why, you heard the need in my words and my voice. Words have great power most of us dismiss. The universe was created with but a single word. All things which have power are but single words. Love, hate, and friendship are a few which come to mind.”
“I thought I was supposed to be the teacher,” Lizzy challenged.
“We can all learn from someone else. Even if all we learn is what not to do. Who knows, you may learn this whole endeavor is a huge mistake. In which case, you’ll never do this again.”
“If we live through all this.”
“If we live.” The air was silent for a moment, then I asked, “Are you ready?” Lizzy nodded.
Pressing the send button on my phone, the single word “Begin” was sent. Not two seconds later, everything became dark. I could only see the lights in the hallway. Following the lights brought Lizzy and me to the stage where the lights there took over the duty. We took our places. I gave the hand signal; I was ready. All the lights winked out, except for the one pool of light I was standing in.
The Calling Page 23
