Dark Day Dreams, page 4
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When the deadline was two weeks away, the fighting in the targeted countries came to a stop for the most part. The Mideast would soon be gone and there was only time left to either leave the area or stay and prepare for the journey that would take one on to the life that lies beyond this one.
Alim was living in Malaysia at this point, spending most of his time working on getting his company’s factory up and running. on he would be leaving the targeted areas.
Ferran missed his friend but also understood. Not everyone who’s born in the Mideast ends up feeling strongly connected to that dry, dusty part of the world. Alim had always been primarily concerned with the here and now and making enough money to live in a reasonably comfortable manner.
Ferran was more philosophical, more confident there was an important spiritual story unfolding all the time. He had to admit he wasn’t so sure about things now. It felt like He’d never been a particularly devout Muslim and had decided early Allah was gone and he was tempted to call into question everything he’d learned from the Quran. But he still loved the physical place…the sand, the water, the palm trees and the warm breezes that caressed him at night. Those were things he was sure of…those were things his soul could hold on to.
He had tricked his family into leaving Mecca, sending them to visit relatives in Turkey. He promised them he would join them shortly, right after he wrapped up a few things. He and his wife had fought loudly about it one night but he finally convinced her everything was going to be okay.
But he never left. His connection to this place was just too strong and even though his faith had been shaken, deep down he believed Allah would only allow him to enter Paradise if he stayed and endured whatever the Troon had planned.
He hoped his family would be held to a less severe standard. He’d been conflicted for quite some time now about whether they should also stay but finally decided it would be better if he went through it alone.
He began spending much of his time just walking around the city, taking in the sights and sounds and smells that meant so much to him. Of course, it was much quieter than normal but he didn’t really mind…the calm made it easier for him to gather his thoughts and really appreciate everything that would soon be taken away from this world.
Ferran was glad his parents were already gone. He knew the current state of affairs would have absolutely broken their hearts.
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The day finally arrived. Ferran walked down the street and said hello to the other citizens of Mecca who had decided to stay. They all seemed surprisingly calm, ready to leave the woes of this world behind and begin spending time with Allah.
It was a very hot day and after a couple hours he returned home and sat down in his favorite chair. He drank some water and looked at a family photo album, marveling how fast the twenty years of his marriage had passed.
Suddenly, the room went dark. He felt no pain as the life force exited his body.
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Louise watched the television commentator announce the event had occurred. He said, “All the people who had remained in those countries are assumed to be dead or at least not in this physical reality any longer.”
She felt sick to her stomach. It outraged her that the Troon wouldn’t even say for sure what had happened to the people over there who had chosen to stay behind.
It felt like her whole world was falling apart. Based on what was happening today, she had to
admit God might not even exist. Or at least not the caring, involved God she had always believed she was having a relationship with. Maybe He was just a lazy, distant deity who created this messed up world and then floated off to some other part of the universe…an indifferent landlord, never there to answer the phone when you have a terminal disease or been told a huge chunk of the planet was about to be rezoned into oblivion.
Like most people, she’d stayed home from work that day. Unless you had a life or death occupation, it just didn’t feel right routinely going about your business when something so momentous was happening.
It all seemed so unreal. She’d been holding on to a tiny spark of hope there would be a last minute miracle and God would put things right, send those creepy gold bastards back to whatever outer space hellhole they came from. But there had been no miracle today, no cosmic winning basket at the buzzer.
How would the Biblical prophecies come to pass now? There would be no battle of Armageddon, no triumphant return of Jesus to Jerusalem. She picked up a dog shaped knick-
knack and threw it against a wall. Then she screamed, “It’s not like these things can happen in fucking Norway!”
She took a swig of bourbon straight out of the bottle. She knew there was a service currently going on at her church, a time for people to come together and comfort each other on this most desolate of days. But she had felt like being alone.
She took another large gulp. Tears flowed down her face as she thought about that word “alone” and how it had come to completely dominate her life the past few years. First her husband left her and now God. She looked out the window and thought about how no one should ever have to struggle with that kind of pain.
Louise kept drinking until the bottle was empty. Then she took an entire bottle of sleeping pills and lay down on her soft leather couch, feeling indifferent now about what kind of existence she was headed toward in the world beyond this one.
Beast in Show
My name is Karl Emerson. Well, at least that’s what I decided to call myself.
I arrived in southern California on a muggy August day in nineteen ninety-three. I stepped off a Greyhound bus and thought to myself, “So, this is Hollywood. The town where people make their dreams come true.”
Truth be told, it looked anything but glamorous…in my immediate vicinity there were a lot of crappy souvenir shops, a few marginal looking restaurants and some kind of lingerie store. Down the street, I could see people dressed up in costumes posing for pictures with tourists. Three dollars would get you a picture of Batman standing arm in arm with your mom or Aunt Trudy.
A gang of long-haired street punks stood twenty feet away, wearing matching black t-shirts and Levi jackets advertising their favorite bands. They smoked, spat and stared at me. I chuckled under my breath and thought about how much fun it would be to show them what real anarchy looked like. You know, the kind where your limbs can no longer follow the orders your brain is sending down the line.
I took a deep breath and did my mental calming exercise. I pictured the mountains and a clear stream of icy water surging downward and splashing against large rocks. It was like a liquid fist, constantly polishing the ones that were heavy enough to sit there year in and year out, decade after decade. I suppose it was a bit ironic that I accessed such a kinetic memory in order to clamp down on some of my more violent tendencies.
There were a lot of tourists on the street. I wondered what they were thinking. The name Hollywood conjures up so many thoughts, memories and images for most people. I mean, I was excited and I only learned about the place fairly recently.
I picked up my one suitcase and walked away from the bus stop. It was a hot day and the air was heavy with exhaust fumes. I coughed a bit when a big diesel truck drove by, spewing a dark cloud into the air…pollution would take a little getting used to, up until now I’d spent most of my life breathing air so pure I was surprised people hadn’t tried to bottle it and resell it in stores.
I passed an attractive, dark haired woman who had stopped to look for something in her purse. She was giving off several scents simultaneously. Perfume masked the smell of her makeup, skin and vagina. And on an even deeper level, there were slight hints her period would arrive soon.
But that was okay, I was prepared. I’d spent most of the past year hanging out in a small town called Flettsville, a place that existed down in the valley below the mountain that I grew up on. I knew how to mentally manage the constant wave of odors only I could smell. It was harder here with so many more people around, but still doable. It took some effort but the alternative was quite possibly going insane.
The woman looked up from what she was doing and gave me a smile. It was obvious she found me attractive. My eyes are a striking light blue color. I’m a little over six feet tall and possess thick blonde hair, wide shoulders, a strong build and a mouth full of white, straight teeth. I don’t mean to brag but it also seems silly to be overly humble.
And I knew (even if she didn’t) my body was always sending out waves of pheromones that advised females within a certain distance they would never encounter a more virile lovemaking partner.
I smiled back out of courtesy but then began walking forward again. There would be plenty of time for breeding later and according to what I’d heard about Los Angeles, plenty of opportunities as well.
I thought about how strange this would seem to my kin up in the mountains. I had purposely not told many of them about my plans. Old Rachel was always going on about how lucky the family was to be so far away from what she called “the filth and decadence” of pure humanity. And mind you, that attitude was based more or less on how she felt about the town down in the valley, a place that probably held less than a thousand souls. I figured she would just about lose her mind if she knew I was currently walking through a city teeming with millions of beings she despised.
She also never knew about the frequent trips I’m made down to Flettsville the past few years. The first few times I just looked around but eventually I worked up the nerve to walk into a tavern. Amazingly, I ended up becoming friends with the bartender, Jerry Krause.
I wore pure human clothes when I went into town. The family kept a decent supply on hand just in case the need ever arose. Some of the stuff had been stolen from cabins up on the mountain and a few things had been taken off hunters who’d been unfortunate enough to wander into the wrong part of the forest. Zeke and Pierre could be pretty territorial at times…but at least they were mindful about not shedding a lot of blood when they took down their prey. More often than not, they would just drop down out of a tree and break the pure human’s neck.
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I walked through Hollywood and drank in the sights, sounds and smells of a far denser level of civilization than I had ever previously experienced. I’d spent time on Jerry’s computer reading about the history of Hollywood. Once upon a time, there had been a single adobe hut. Then an agricultural community sprang up. And eventually, movie makers began moving out West to set up shop in areas where Thomas Edison’s film patents couldn’t be easily enforced. Hollywood ended up being the center of the surging American cinema business.
Of course, now it was more of a symbol than a place where the work really got done. But that didn’t bother me, I liked symbols and traditions. I thought they were an important part of any culture, whether it was the immense one that the pure humans had built or the tiny one my family created high up in the mountains.
Symbols and traditions served as an anchor in a world where the storms and waves of change seemed a bit more violent with each passing year.
I checked into a midlevel motel. I had a good deal of cash due to the fact I’d sold some fairly large gold nuggets in the next town over from Flettsville. I brought some money with me and left the rest with Jerry, who agreed to send more funds via Western Union whenever the need arose. Of course, I planned on getting a checking account after I found employment.
The room wasn’t too bad. It had that disinfectant smell that comes automatically with any lodging that costs less than a hundred bucks a night but the bed was comfortable and they actually provided reasonably soft
towels instead of those paper thin rags that have been laundered so many times a cosmetologist could actually use them to remove dead skin.
I lay down on the bed to take a nap. I remember looking up at the ceiling and thinking about how good it felt to have made it this far on my journey. There wasn’t much I was going to miss about where I grew up…maybe the fresh air and certainly the thrill of occasionally chasing down an elk or deer and killing it with my bare hands. As far as relationships, there was just Jerry and the female from my family named Sasha. She and I had mated several times but I never publicly claimed her as my own. When I told her I was leaving to go live in the pure human world, she displayed a variety of emotions, everything from weeping to slapping and biting. The prospect of losing me definitely seemed to amplify her non-human tendencies.
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It turned out my timing was good. The economy was starting to recover from the most recent recession and I found work in construction. A few days after I started, the foreman called me over and said, “Careful not to lift too much, Karl. I appreciate the effort but I don’t want you to hurt your back.”
I replied, “Sure, thanks for your concern.” I chuckled to myself as I walked away…the work on the site barely caused me to break a sweat. I wished my boss could have been there the day I saved Sasha from the mountain lion. Now that took some effort.
I eventually got a studio apartment. I didn’t have much stuff and really didn’t need a lot of room. I spent quite a bit of my free time at the library. I had so much to learn about the pure human world and felt like you never know what piece of knowledge might be valuable in any given situation. One thing I knew was that I didn’t want to work construction the rest of my life.
Occasionally I would call Jerry to see what was going on back home…or at least in Flettsville. Of course I knew I was completely cut off from my family until the day I decided to go back and visit them in person.
The bartender never had much big news to share. It was usually just some older person passing away or the arrival of a new baby. But I still felt good connecting with my friend for a few minutes and talking about the part of the country where we both grew up.
I felt a little guilty about all the lies I’d told Jerry about my past. But I also knew there was no way he could accept the fact I came from a family that could take on either the form of a human or a beast. So I just made up a story about a kid who grew up in a cabin in the woods, worked as a logger for a few years and then finally decided he wanted to get out and see the rest of the world a bit.
Jerry was such a seriously mellow guy he just seemed to accept my story without question. I suppose it was partially because he’d known quite a few mountain folks who seemed odd from the get-go…especially some of the old-timers who liked to throw back a few drinks and share tall tales about the area. I really enjoyed sitting in the bar, listening to them try to describe large wolves they’d glimpsed walking around on two legs in the shadows of the forest.
I was surprised how much pure humans liked alcohol. It made them feel good. They raised a glass in celebration and they raised a glass to wipe away the memory of a bad day. It was their good friend, always willing to help. It took a while but I too eventually figured out how to pace myself when imbibing.
I occasionally met a woman at a club and ended up sleeping with her. I was surprised how the pure human females would meet a stranger and so quickly put themselves in a dangerously vulnerable situation. Truth be told, I sometimes took them up on their tipsy offer simply so I could make sure they made it home all right. Sure, I’m a beast but I still have a moral code of sorts.
One night in nineteen ninety-seven, I was at a place called The Brave Lion and a cute redhead named Janet asked me to dance.
We tried to carry on a conversation but after a while mutually decided the music was just too loud. She asked me if I wanted to go get a cup of coffee somewhere and talk. I decided that might be fun… I was definitely getting bored with the usual routine of dancing, trading basic information, dancing some more, going back to the woman’s apartment, having sex and showing myself out.
We went to a diner just up the street. She asked me where I was from and I told her about Flettsville. She said, “Wow, you took quite a leap moving from a place like that to Babylon here. What was your inspiration?”
I poured cream into my cup and replied, “I just got tired of looking at the same faces and hearing the same stories every day. And I also got infected with this crazy idea about wanting to take a shot at getting into show business.”
“Oh, yeah? Are you an actor? Singer?”
“I’m not sure what I want to do yet. Might even try my hand at being a stunt man…”
I was suddenly feeling a little embarrassed. I hadn’t even really told Jerry the specific reason I was moving out to southern California. But for whatever reason, I found myself instantly feeling comfortable with this pure human female. It felt so good to let my guard down a little and open up with somebody else about all these plans that had been swimming around in my head for so long.
I asked her what she did for a living. She said she worked at an insurance company during the day but had always dreamed about becoming a standup comedian. She took a sip of her coffee and shook her head. Then she smiled and said, “I know it sounds silly.”
“No, I think it’s great. I love comedians, watch them all the time on the late night shows. What kind of material do you do?”
She blushed a little. “Oh, stuff about dating and how crazy it is being a single woman these days.”
“Have you gone up onstage anywhere yet?”
“Yeah, I’ve done a few open mic nights but haven’t been paid for it yet.”
I softly tapped my right index finger and said,“Well, that is very cool. I’d love to come see you perform some time.”
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We didn’t sleep together that night. But we did sit in the diner and talk for a couple of hours,sharing stories about our lives. She had grown up in Flagstaff, was the youngest of five kids and had moved to the Los Angeles area seven years ago. She’d always loved watching comedians perform on the late night shows, especially Carson’s. She said she was always writing jokes and even came up with five minutes’ worth of material when she was a senior in high school and performed at a talent show. I liked how her face lit up when she reminisced about that experience.
