Short Story #2

I.

The explosion is so loud my body reacts more quickly than my mind can grasp the implications. Under my desk with my hands clenched tightly around the back of my neck I breathe into the neck of my shirt.
“Jesus... what the hell… Jesus…. Jesus…”

Then an intense thrill of panic courses through my body.

“Oh Jesus… Gavin…!”

I jump up and crack my head against the edge of the desk. I race toward the door of my office, freeze and jump back to grab my purse out of my drawer. The drawer is locked.

I scream in frustration as I slam my key into the lock and again as I tug on my purse to loosen it’s wedged form from the drawer.

As I speed down the corridors to get to the doors leading outside, I hear people yelling, trying to get information from others who know as little as they do. My high heels aren’t letting me get where I need to be quickly enough. I yank them off and throw them behind me as I keep running.

Down the stairs and into the main lobby of the building, I freeze in horror, jostled from behind by others who don’t yet see the crowd of people standing in front of the doors. The doors are blocked. The man standing in front of the doors is yelling into the crowd.

“No one can leave! Please step away from the doors! Please -- go back to your offices --- you can’t leave!”

I crane my neck to look through the glass doors, past the man standing in everyone’s path, and see a body. There is a body lying halfway across the street just outside the doors. I can’t go out. I can’t leave.

“No! How am I going to find out where Gavin is? Oh Jesus… what if he was outside. Oh God…. Zack!”

I pull my cell phone out of my purse and mash the 2 button down.
“Dammit. He won’t have his cell on him at work”

I hit END and dial his work #. Lines are too busy… or down. Nothing will go through. In my head I am screaming in frustration. What am I going to do!? There’s no where to go. No way to check on my son and my husband. I feel like pulling my hair out of my skull; like a wild animal, ready to pounce or flail or grab anything in my way.

There are sirens. I feel a jolt of hope.

“Maybe they’ll take me to Gavin!”

Then reality sets in.

“Of course they won’t. Of course. Stupid. Dammit.”

The weight of the realization that I will have to wait to find out what had happened to my family starts to sink in on me and I sit on the floor. I can’t cry. It is too much. I am shutting down. Unblinking, I stare at the body in the road. I wonder if I knew that person. Were they one of my co-workers? I hope not. That person’s poor family. I wonder if he… she… was rushing to get to them. I wonder if their family was still alive. Or, maybe he… she… was outside when the… whatever it was… happened. I try my cell phone again. Still nothing.

My computer!

I walk back upstairs and through the corridor. Why waste my energy moving quickly? Who knows how long I will be in this building. I think about food. I wonder if we will have enough food if we are stuck here for a while. Then the pang of not knowing. Not knowing how my son is doing. Not knowing how my husband is doing. The pang is so strong I can’t breathe.

The tears come. They trickle down my face as I walk.

The corridors are empty.

I walk through the door of my office and stare out my window.

“I wonder why the glass didn’t shatter.”

I sit at my desk to see if my computer will work. It doesn’t. Not enough power. I should have realized that. We must be running off of generators. Yeah. I knew that. That’s why most of the lights are off. I stare out the window again.

I look at my phone. No power. I pick the phone up. No dial tone.

I sigh and stand up and walk to the door of my office.

“I wonder if anyone else is still up here.”

I walk around the office and look in the doors. No one else is here. I should go back down. They are probably doing the emergency roll call. I better walk back down.

As I return to the front lobby, I realize that everyone is there achieving some level of comfort from being around other people. I feel no comfort. I won’t get comfortable. I refuse. I won’t be comfortable until I know.

I sit down on the floor to wait.

II.

Every hour or so, someone brings food up from the employee cafeteria. I take a small bag of chips, but my mouth is too dry to eat them. The next time the food cart is brought around; I take a bottle of water and try to force myself to eat.

My mind goes through stages of complete despondency knowing there is nothing I can do but wait. Then I get angry. The moments of anger seem to last for shorter and shorter time periods as the hours pass. In some moments, I make the move to get up and just leave, but my rational side knows that there is a chance to take twenty steps and die. It will do me no more good than waiting.

A phone rings. Everyone jumps, and I snatch my phone from my purse to dial. A second phone rings, and then others, and then I hear mine ringing. I pick it up and put it to my ear.

“Hel…”

“This is a recording. The following cities are not yet safe for moving out of doors. Arlington, Culpeper, Fredericksburg…”

I stop listening.

Night falls.

I return to my office and doze fitfully on an old cot rescued from the old hospital’s storage in the basement.

My mind wanders.

I wonder if someone died on the cot I am using.

Working in the building of what was the old hospital had never struck home before now. At least we are equipped with the basic resources. I wondered how many people out there were struggling with the choice of leaving their homes to face death, or going without food or water or heat for who knows how long.

III.

At 6am the next day, I wander down to the lobby, hoping to find something edible waiting. As I near the stairs heading into the main hall, I hear people shouting.

“How much longer until we can get out of here?!”

“I need to see my son!”

“What happened?!”

“How…”

“Why…”

“Who…”

I can’t make out much of what is being said, but as I walk into the lobby, I see a man in a chemical suit. He’s holding his hands up as if to say “I know… give me a moment…”

He must have just arrived.

I stand in the back of the crowd to wait for him to speak. People are getting angry. Some are angry at the man for not answering, others at the people getting angry. There are multiple calls for silence.

Furious, I put my fingers in my mouth and whistle as loudly as I can.

Angry stares and glares turn my way, but the room grows quiet.

The man speaks. He looks haggard.

“There have been attacks across the country. We aren’t sure who or what or why… all we know is that we’re taking steps to try and keep everyone informed and supplied with the basic necessities. We’re hoping to have some semblance of phone service up soon for those of you with families to try and get in touch with them. However, it will be a waiting list. So, I need you to all please put your names and phone numbers down here” He held up a clipboard with a list of names “to get on the list for a phone.”

I am surprised at the orderliness of people who got in line to put their names on the list. Ironically, my first thought is “they never would have been this organized in Europe”.

I wait in line and put my name on the clipboard, trying to quickly scan and see if there is any other information to be gleaned from the many names listed.

There isn’t.

I sit back against the wall in the same spot I have been sitting for days.


IV.

Two days pass before I finally get my call.

“I am connecting you to Zack Loesche” says an automated voice.

“Hello?” It’s Zack’s voice. He sounds tired, as I am sure I must.

“Hi hon, I miss you. Have you heard anything about Gavin?”

“I miss you to. Yeah. I talked to the daycare. They’re ok.”

A thrill goes up my spine. He’s ok!

“You have 30 seconds” the automated voice commands.

“Ok, I love you.”

“I love you too.”

The phone goes dead.

V.

That night, I am lying in my cot with the few pictures of Gavin and Zack I had thought to bring with me to the new office sitting beside me.

For the 1,000th time since this started I think that I must bring more pictures to the office.

Another explosion rocks the building.

I jolt upright.

“No… no! Not again!”

This time, I feel the building really shake. I start to hear screaming in the other offices as pieces of the ceiling start coming down. I jump up, desperately trying to figure out where to go.

As I reach the door of my office, the floor starts to sway, and I lose my balance and slam into the doorway.

The floor gives way and I feel myself falling, sliding, smashing into beams and rubble.

Everything is dark.

I feel bruised, and am pretty sure my arm is broken.

There is no room to maneuver. I am shut in tight by the debris.
I am crying hysterically.

I hear, and feel, a third and then a fourth explosion.

I don’t know if it is the building continuing to crumble, or more of… whatever is happening.

I clench my fists and scream.

There is no response. Just silence.

VI.

I quickly lose track of time in my dungeon. The hunger gnaws at me.

“Stupid stubborn fool.” I keep reprimanding myself for not eating more when I had the chance.

When not thinking of food, my thoughts were on my son and husband. I would never see them again. That was the most terrible thought I could have. But it was the truth. As … who knows how many… days passed, I knew it for fact.

VII.

Eventually the hunger pains went away. Replaced by an almost constant barrage of tormented thoughts about my husband and son.

Eventually, the thoughts subsided.

Eventually, I rested.

"Home" - Chapter III

III.

It took us a few weeks to get everything unpacked and settled. We didn’t really talk about the incident with Eli. I felt like it was a bad omen, and had a hard time getting comfortable in the house. I kept thinking about how Micah wasn’t going to be able to play in the yard with that weirdo in the house behind us.

We bought curtains for the kitchen window and a shade for the back door so that we couldn’t see Eli’s house – and so that he couldn’t see in. I checked the locks more carefully than I had done in past homes, and we kept all of the blinds and curtains closed most of the time.

-----------------------------------------

I could hear the Eli’s dogs fighting nearly every day. I called animal control three times, but each time I was told that they didn’t find anything out of the ordinary.

The last time I called, I was told to not call again, the neighbor had threatened harassment charges.

-----------------------------------------

Gradually, the moving incident became less prominent in my mind. I focused on trying to get a handle on my new job, while Micah got used to his new daycare and Adam became busier and busier at work.

In October, Adam got the news that he was going to be promoted, and that he would have to start traveling about 25% of his time. I wasn’t happy about it, but kept telling myself that it was important to make sacrifices in order to get to our ultimate goal, which was to be debt free and back in Colorado. I was hoping we would be at a place to do that within the following two years, and the promotion and travel pay would make it that much easier to get there.

In November, Adam started his new position. He was gone for two weeks to promote his company’s software package. If the firm to which he was promoting it chose his company’s package, it could mean even bigger things for him, and us. But, I hated him being gone. I missed him, and I felt even more trapped in the house because I didn’t feel safe going out after dark. Which, being November meant Micah and I only left the house to go to work and daycare, and on weekends.

-----------------------------------------

Right as Adam’s work started ramping up, I began having intense nightmares. They were so frequent and vivid that I became petrified of even taking a nap in the middle of the day. Every nightmare revolved around the same thing – the dog with the glowing eyes. I was being chased, or attacked, or watched. The same thing, over and over and over.

I was up at all hours of the night, with no sleep during the day.

Micah began getting more and more restless with me. I could tell that he could sense my fear. I tried to put on a serene façade, but the dreams were constantly over-riding all other thoughts. I was at the back window peering through the curtains constantly.

--------------------------------------------

One night in early December, I was sitting in the living room watching TV after Micah had gone down for the night. The blinds were closed most of the way, with just a small slit to try and lessen the closed-in feeling that was starting to make me feel claustrophobic; but not enough of a gap for those outside to be able to see in.

I kept getting the tingling feeling on the back of my neck as if I were being watched from the street.

Finally giving in to the intense feeling of not being alone, I crouched on the couch and opened a small gap in the blinds to look out onto the street.

Eli waved at me from his leaning pose underneath the street light. His dog with the green eyes just stared at me.

--------------------------------------------

Panicking, I called Adam.

“Eli is sitting outside under our streetlamp! He just waved at me when I peeked, and I mean peeked out of the blinds! His dog is with him, too! I don’t even know how he saw the blinds move! I barely touched them!” I felt like I was going to vomit. “Oh my God! I have to make sure all the doors are locked!” Even though I knew in my mind that I had already double and triple-checked all of the locks, front and back.

“Honey? Honey, hon - just calm down, ok? Can you call the police?”

“What are they going to do? It’s a public street!”

“Maybe call them to come by so you can file a report? At least, even if they can’t do anything, he will see that the police have come by and that you are talking to them.”

“Ok. Ok. I will do that.”

“Call me after you talk to them.”

“I will. Bye.”

--------------------------------------------

The police came about forty-five minutes after I called. They told me there was nothing they could do about Eli. He wasn’t breaking any laws, nor was he technically harassing me since he didn’t make any contact.

--------------------------------------------

After that night, I bought motion sensing lights and a nanny cam that I put in the front window.

"Home" - Chapter II

II.

“What were you doing out there?” Adam asked as I came in the door.

“I saw a dog out there that looked like he was caught in the fence. Apparently not, though, because he went back to that house just as I was getting close.”

I didn’t mention the dog’s eyes; I figured it had been a trick of the light.

“Did you see the guy talking to me?”

“No, but I thought I heard you talking to someone. Who was it?”

“I think he lives in that house back there. He made some comment about his dogs being loud because they fight.”

I gave Adam a disgusted look.

“He’s pretty gross.”

“Hm. Your sandwich is on the counter. I am going to get back to unloading.” Adam said.

“Ok, I’ll be out in a second.”

As I stood in the kitchen eating my sandwich, my eyes wandered through the back window to examine the house behind us again. It was pretty run down, from what I could see of it. Most of the house was blocked by trees on both sides of the fence, but the balcony that the man had been standing on was visible from our kitchen window. It was slightly bowed with chipped white paint. The rest of the house was light grey with rust and mold stains trailing down from the balcony and the eves, and had mildew around the windows.

I thought about whether or not I had noticed it when we were looking at this one to rent. I didn’t remember seeing it, but I wasn’t surprised since I was focused on the one we were going to live in.

-----------------------------------------

I finished my sandwich and threw away the paper towel that it had been sitting on. I was walking toward the front door when I heard Adam talking to someone.

I couldn’t make out what they were saying, but I could tell by his tone that Adam was a little annoyed.

“No, that’s fine – we’re fine… thanks though” I heard him say.

“Well, just wanted to come by and see if you all needed any help.”

I walked out the front door and saw that he was talking to the guy from the balcony. He had changed into what should have been a white T-Shirt that said “F.B.I – Free Boobie Inspection” across the front.

“Lovely.” I thought.

I walked up to the pair of them just as Adam was saying

“Ok, thanks, but we’ve got it, really.”

“Ok, then.” The man said as he turned and looked at me. “Hello again.”

“Hi.” I replied, as I suppressed a shudder and proceeded toward the moving van.

Adam followed me, and left the man standing on the sidewalk.

As we continued to unload the remaining furniture from the back of the moving van, the man lingered on the sidewalk, leaning against a utility pole and remarking whenever a heavier piece of furniture came out of the back that he was more than willing to assist. We continued to smile half-heartedly at him and tell him we had it covered.

As we lifted the last piece of furniture, the wooden coffee table, I saw the man move closer to the truck. We moved toward the opening, and just as I was getting ready to step on the ramp, my foot slipped and I fell to one knee, dropping my end of the coffee table.

The man sprung up and grabbed the side of the table.

“I’ve got it.” He said.

Adam looked at me, slightly worried, but continued to move down the ramp and into the house with the coffee table.

-----------------------------------------

I got up and limped after them into the house.

As I crossed the porch towards the entryway, I heard a small scuffle.

“It’s alright man, I’ve got it now… thanks… really.” I heard Adam say.

I walked into the living room to see what was going on.

The man was in our living room, pushing our coffee table toward one of the walls, off the area rug on which I could tell it had been initially placed.

I was confused.

“What’s up?” I asked Adam, concern making my voice tight.

“Oh… I was just telling Eli here that we're good to go.”

Turning back to Eli “Ok, man, that’s all we need, thanks…”

Eli continued to push the coffee table from its place. He didn’t say anything. Didn’t look up at my entrance or the conversation with Adam.

Adam moved to stand on one side of the table to halt its movement.

“Just trying to help” Eli said, and looked up to stare at Adam. “You all certainly have a lot of nice things.”

Grinning, he put his hand out.

“Look, I don’t have any cash. I appreciate your helping me move the coffee table into the house, but we’ve got it now, so if you wouldn’t mind?” Adam gestured toward the front door.

Eli looked at Adam and crossed his arms, planted his feet, and then looked to me, still grinning.

I pulled my phone out of my pocket and dialed 9-1-1. “I’m calling the police” I said.

“&@#$% you then, you little $#&*@." He said, and walked out the door.

The dispatcher answered my call, and I told her that there had been a situation, but that the man had left. She asked if we wanted to talk to the police anyway.

I told her no.

Short Story: "Home" - Chapter I

I.

My layoff was the catalyst. But, not in the way you would think – not financially. It had been expected with our small lending company being bought by a conglomerate. Of course, I had hoped that I would be able to stay on longer, but in the end, I was one of the “lucky” ones. We had scrimped and saved for over a year in preparation for it, and then I was able to find a job that I could transition into without missing any work time.

Of course, it meant moving… again. The second time in 8 months. I hate moving. But, financially, it just made more sense. Why stay in Richmond when both Adam and I would be working up north?

-----------------------------------------

The house was downtown; two stories with a separate basement and fenced yard. It was built in the 1920s, and had the Victorian character I loved; wood floors, wide moldings, windows with cylinder glass, and my favorite part – a claw foot tub in the main floor bathroom. It was also in a great location - a short walk to a corner coffee shop where we could go on Sunday mornings and watch the morning runners from the college down the street, and from the large library where local musicians would perform on Friday nights. There were old, beautiful homes surrounding ours, and a tea shop right across the street. It was everything I was hoping to find.

-----------------------------------------

We moved into the house over Labor Day weekend, hiring moving assistance to get everything into the truck, but doing the remainder of the work ourselves. We had sold or donated most of our furniture 8 months prior and had little left to move.

We began unloading the furniture and boxes early that morning after we dropped Micah off at daycare. It was going pretty well, and we quickly emptied most of the truck. Around one o’clock, we decided to take time to eat some lunch, so the back of the truck was locked and we went inside the house. Adam started making the sandwiches and I walked to the door at the end of the kitchen, which led into the backyard.

As I looked out into the yard, a movement near the rear of the property caught my eye. There was a mid-size black dog that seemed to be caught in the gap between our neighbor’s fence and ours.

“Oh poor thing”, I thought, and went out to try to help it. As I neared the back of the yard, the dog looked up at me and I saw a flash of green. His eyes appeared to glow.

Although I found this strange, I continued to carefully approach the dog to see if I could help. Shortly before reaching the animal, I heard someone speak from the house on the other side of the fence.

“That’s my dog.”

As I looked up to find the speaker, the dog squirmed free and darted away.

A man was standing on a second floor balcony. I speculated that he was in his late-thirties, and probably nearing 300 pounds, unshaven, with close-cropped hair and a dirty wife beater and grease-stained cut-offs.

“I was going to try and help him out of the fence.” I replied.

“He’s fine. Also… you might hear my dogs sometimes. They fight.” The man said.

I didn’t reply.

“You guys just moving in?”

“Yeah…” I said as I started to turn toward the house.

“Nice to meet you.” he said.

“You too…” I mumbled as I turned and walked back to the house.