Anomaly

DREAMS

CHAPTER 3

Dreams

         A dark haired man sits quietly with his arms outstretched. They span across a small wood table. His large forearms are riddled with curly hairs and small speckles of wood shavings. His grey eyes focused intently at the small children across the table. The children sit solemn with their faces pointed towards their feet that dangle lifelessly off the tall chairs. The light in the room almost reflects the sadness that seems to coat the small room like a thick smog. Single lamp light illuminates faint tears that flow relentlessly down the children's faces. The girl, older than the boy allows herself to meet her father's gaze. He is gaunt and pale but there is still comfort in those kind eyes. A comfort and strength only children can see in their parent's eyes. The true belief that no problem is too large or task too daunting. A belief that parents can fix anything, even death.

         His eyes begin to glisten in the damp light at the small girl's stare. He knows despite the power of the children's belief; he cannot offer a solution. Pain wheals in his chest and stomach and for a moment he thinks he might lose it all. Tears threaten intensely, peaking over the edge of his eyelids ready to spill. He knows he can't allow them to. He knows that there is power in their belief in him, that he may not be able to solve death but he could be the thing that stays steady in its wake. Like a light house he would offer sight and security to his children that would surely drown without him.

         "Dad" the small girl says in-between sniffles. The man hesitates, feeling the large lump forming in his throat at the sound of her meek voice. He swallows hard and tries to steady himself.

         "Yes baby"

         "Where did she go?" Her eyes do not avert his, as if looking for hidden answers or hope within them. He thinks for a short moment, knowing this question would have come, but how do you answer something you do not know. Where was she? Death is a strange thing. For something so final why does it allow so many prodding questions.

         "Well, honey you see your mom" he stops catching his voice again, trying with small success to continue his steady tone.

         "Your mom is" his mind searches for something, any hint of an answer, "in a new place now, not gone, just different" He moves his hands slowly over the small fragile palms of his children.

         "What is different about mom?" The small girl says tears flowing faster now. He looks at her deeper now feeling the strength again take control over his shaky body.

         "Do you know how I get the wood I build with honey?" He reaches out and grabs both her and her brothers hands now.

         "The trees?" she says slowly, unsure of what any of this meant.

         "Yes baby the trees" He is not sure what the right answer is, but he knows what he feels. Somewhere behind the thoughts and words he thinks he can remember an old idea. Something an elder told him when he was a young boy. The idea was called God. The elder described god to him as meaning and purpose for everything in the universe. "Everything?" He remembers asking "Even the bad?" the elder simply replied "everything" and made him promise to never speak of this, and he didn't. Not until now.

         "The trees are beautiful aren't they?" He questions in a warm tone.

         "Yeah, I guess" she replies through heavy breathing.

         "The trees aren't just trees, the trees where once small seeds, then sprouts, and grew into the tall towers you see now. Every season those beautiful leaves change colors and fall to the ground creating good food for the next trees" He says trying to reassure her confused look. "I take some of those trees and create things, big and small, this house was made from those very trees. In a sense it will always be a tree but it is also now a table that you can draw on, a chair that you can sit in, a room that you can sleep and dream in. Do you see what I mean?"

         "Mom is changed?" She says slightly less confused. Her dark eyes marble with more tears.

         "Yes, but like the tree, she is not gone just because she is not the same anymore. She is still here in a way; she is with us." He says beginning to truly believe himself. 

         "Where is she then?"

         "She is with you now" and points to her chest almost confused by this seemingly instinctual feeling. "And she always will be, no matter what, no one can take that away now" The small girl allows herself a small smile through the tears. She does not understand fully what her father was saying but she felt the warmth. The warmth of his certainty and the warmth of believing her mother was still with her.

         Suddenly the girl feels a great pull and her chair seems to be sliding back in fast jerks. The table that once gaped her and her father disappears. The room seems to flow like water past her. The warm yellow tones mix with the wood and the white walls in strips of color getting progressively faster and more mudded. Her father's expression is no longer warmth but fear. The panic in his eyes is more terrifying than anything else. Her father couldn't be scared of anything; it just wasn't possible. Yet there he was, reaching for her, and screaming her name. His shrill screams made her cry harder. She tries to yell back at her father but she is muted. She can feel hands on her small shoulders now holding her firmly down on the seat. The large hands are cold, sending chills up and down her already shaking body. She can see hands on her father too. More cold claws grasping his chest, hands, and throat. He fights hard trying to reach her but the hands pull evermore tighter. His chair is taken out from under him by the hands that seem to belong to the now black vastness. The rooms boundaries melted away into the blackness creating the deception of infinity. She looks to her brother but he is no longer beside her. She allows her gaze to aim momentarily at her feet, they are now ankle deep in shallow water, black water. There is a shine of a full moon that dances along the small ripples. The oppressing girth of the moon encases a silhouette of her father pulling further away towards something. The hands that once held her so tight are gone now, and she can see her father in plain sight. Abruptly the pulling ceases and he no longer moves away. Something is around his throat. A snake slithers into a noose around his neck and attaches itself to a tall wood structure that she recognizes from the cities center. The pale hands reach for the lever that she knows all too well. The lever that she has seen countless times before. The lever that ruthlessly erases people.

         "Dad" she screams now aware that her voice has changed. She is no longer the small girl; she is now 17 again screaming for her dad. "Dad!" She runs pushing her legs as hard as she can through the dark water. She sprints quickly but only achieves the illusion of movement. Her dad stays the same distance, his panic is gone, there is a thin grin that is on his face now. He meets her eyes.

         "It's okay baby" He says in a voice so sweetly familiar.

         "No dad! Wait, please wait" She screams franticly. "Please dad I'm not ready! I can't lose you now, please dad!" she can feel the sweat and tears mixing on her face, her skin felt hot and uncomfortable.

         "I will be with you again baby, remember that" His voice reassuring, calm, and out of place for this situation. His smile turns toward the ground and the pale hand grasps the wood lever. Her heart beats fast in her chest. Faster she thinks, move faster! But she is not getting any closer. The hopelessness burns like a flame in her stomach. The hand lurches the lever back and she can see her father fall quickly for a moment, then the harsh whiplash of his body. His feet twitch for a moment then subside joining the lifelessness of his hands and shoulders. She screams louder feeling her throat burn, "No please dad! No! No! No!" she falls to her knees hyperventilating and wishes for death. "I can't do this without you dad! Please I can't, I can't, I ca..."