Saving Ben: sequel to What I can see

Strange Looks

It's a gorgeous summer morning in Palmerston Alaska.

I know you're probably thinking, "Alaska? Gorgeous and summer?! "

No, we do not live in igloos here.

We do not live off whale blubber and catch our own supper every night in the frozen wasteland known as Alaska.

We live like you do.

I promise.

I shop for meals at the corner grocery store where rice, soup, seafood, chips coffee and any thing else your heart desires is in generous supply.

I do not eat salmon. Nor do I munch on the blubber of whales or any other sea dwelling mammal.

I eat ramen noodles and suck down monster energy drinks by the truck full.

My town is quaint and quiet for the most part.

We have our share of troublemakers and fools.

Meth is not unheard of, nor is it glamorized.

Our schools practice a slightly tweaked version of "Just say no! " Thank you Nancy Reagen.

Yes Palmerston Alaska is a fine place to spend your days.

I tried to dig my heels in and make it work after what happened to us in California, but I just could not settle in like before and stay in the very house that evil touched.

I will update you briefly on the events that transpired and proved to be life altering at our home in the California hills.

Ben was only 4 then.

His father had left us just after Ben came shooting out of my vagina.

My sense of  or lack of  a sense of humor can be off-putting ,but usually only if your a stuck up jack ass. Bear with me.

Our home was the kind of place you could put your feet up in, jump on couches and beds, wear your rattiest bathrobe, and forgo brushing your teeth for an entire weekend kind of comfortable.

Love was abundant and shown on a daily basis.

Meals were cooked and occasionally burned which called for one thing, takeout.

Ben and I were the very picture of happiness. That was until the shadow things. Also known and now referred to as shadowlings if you can dig it.

The night they arrived unwelcomed and eager for our souls was a normal night.

Except that Ben was having some night terrors. These are more intense and frightening versions of night mares. You feel as if you are living these bad, bad dreams in which waking up is very difficult.

Bad ass nightmares.

One morning after a particularly bad one Ben mentioned this 'man' that he had begun talking with. And that 'man' was becoming angry with him for telling me he existed.

These were no dreams however. Nightly visits from this and another shadowling became routine in our once safe haven.

They were feeding off our fears, anxiety, negative thoughts and feelings, and basically growing into something resembling vile foul human beings. In truth these creatures would never fully be human.  But humans themselves would always be stalked by the wanna bees.

..

I stepped up, hired a team of demon slayers, went to war with evil and won our home and, I thought, our lives back.

The memories were too deeply imbedded in the walls and structure of our once beautiful home.

So I made the decision to start fresh somewhere that we'd never been.

And here we are, living a beautiful life once again  in the great state of Alaska.

Our home overlooks a bluff and the scenery is breathtaking.

The ocean roars and crashes beneath us.

The green trees are fragrant and full.

Moose make themselves at home in our backyard, eating from the garden and trees.

I love those huge beasts but respect them as well.

They can be dangerous creatures if sensing danger, and quickly ,without provocation  trample a human or pet that foolishly gets too close and invades their space.

Also in winter when the roads are glazed heavily with thick ice, these small brained animals walk non chelantly out in traffic, causing massive damage and often loss of life.

Our winters can be unforgiving and cruel but nevertheless beauty is everywhere during each season.

When Ben came home yesterday from day camp he dropped his gear in front of the door, grunted a greeting, I think it was a greeting, and headed straight to his room.

Very un Ben like in all aspects.

He is a tidy boy to begin with, he hangs his coat and backpack in the hall closet, without prompting, and always comes to hug and peck my cheek and ask me about dinner.

So the Ben that just walked through the door is an alien.

Something must be up.

I'll give him space for now and maybe inquire about his day over dinner.

Ben is 15 now, I remind myself.

Not a baby anymore Elle.

A prick of longing touches my heart.

'Let the boy grow up , for heaven's sake woman', I silently chastise myself.

The dinner dishes have been shoved haphazardly into the dishwasher and the litter has been swept away from the kitchen floor, so he's off again.

I am left in silence with a horror film playing out on my television.

Ick!  How tacky these newer horror movies seem.

I switch it off and head upstairs planning a nice hot bath to end the day with when I hear just the faintest of whispers, "Ella. Ellllaaaaa. Yes you. Ella, " it whispers with all the horror of the past I left behind.

I freeze. Barely breathing. Listening with well tuned ears.

Nothing. Just my imagination. "What a dummy you are tonight Elle." My inner voice chastises me.

The heat of the bath water has worked it's magic and I am drowsy and ready for my cool sheets and my  lavender infused pillow.

A cool breeze blows tantalizingly through an open window. Brushing my cheeks gently, kissing me good night.