Loose Ends And What Knots Page 2

  “Why are you being punished? What did you do, which warrants being put inside someone’s head from birth only to witness their lives?” His story began to intrigue me. Maybe there is a novel in it. I could use the extra cash.

  “I challenged the universe.” His head hung down low, and his gaze fell to the floor. “What greater enterprise is there for a man than war was my question. The universe heard my taunt and answered. As a spear pierced my chest, I realized the folly of my question, but all too late. Creation itself passed judgment upon me. As our last outpost was overrun, I died. In the bodies of men doomed to fight and die, I have dwelled until now. I have been a witness to great battles from inside. When the first Spartan fell at Thermopylae, I was there behind his eyes. As the first British soldier fell at New Orleans, I felt the rifle bullet rip through our body. My host was the first to die of Boudica’s army at Watling Street. In so many battles, I was a spectator. I have seen more than my share of death.”

  The song Highwayman began playing in my mind. “I was a highwayman along the coach roads I did ride with sword and pistol by my side,” I hushed the music in my mind. “That’s a bitch,” I agreed with this unnamed man in my living room. “How long have you been trapped so?”

  “Since before your history tells. Man has been on Earth far longer than the 200,000 years your so-called science says. Exactly how long have I been trapped by my arrogance? Who knows?”

  “This lesson in history and vindictive magic has been interesting, but I am dead on my feet, and I need to sleep. If you will forgive me, I will be off to my bed. Please fade into the ether like you spirits do.” I requested as I shuffled toward my bed.

  “How do I fade?” asked the man with no name.

  “Sorry I don’t know. It’s not in my skill set. Let me call someone who may be able to help. She is usually close by.” I brought up Marlene’s image to my mind and called her. True to form she coalesced before the span of three heartbeats. The stranger in my living room stood and bowed to the vision which is my mother-in-law, “Hey, Marlene, sorry for the late call. I am wondering if you could help me out?”

  Marlene wore her nurse’s uniform. It is the outfit she wore when she died and is cursed to wear for all eternity. She couldn’t even have it dry cleaned. She smiled at me as she materialized and asked, “Who is this?” pointing to the man with no name.

  “Oh, quite right. Sorry, my manners have been a little lax of late,” gesturing to the stranger, “Marlene Gustafson, may I introduce the man with no name.”

  The stranger stood and bowed deeply. “Pleased to make your acquaintance. You are even more lovely in person.”

  Marlene smiled, blushed, and dropped her gaze momentarily as Charlene does when I praise her beauty. “I don’t understand. What do you mean in person?”

  “This gentleman has been living rent-free in my mind since my birth. He has no experience at being a ghost. I’m hoping you could show him some of the tricks of the trade. Teaching him how to fade would do for now.”

  “I don’t know how I would teach him. I don’t know how I answer your call. I just do.” Marlene expressed with a little frustration in her voice.

  “That’s a little disappointing. Maybe it is a skill you acquire with time. Oh well, thank you, Marlene. Char is asleep in our bedroom, but I’m sure she won’t mind if you wake her to catch up on recent events.”

  “No, let her sleep. I know what happened and let me tell you I’m proud of you.” Marlene affirmed as she crossed over to me and kissed me on the cheek. She gently faded from view.

  “I don’t know what to do now. I thought Marlene would be of some help considering how long she has been a ghost.” I started walking back to my bed and sleep, “Try not to make too much noise. Goodnight.”

  “What am I supposed to do? Haunt this place,” asked the man who had shared my brain.

  “Sounds fine, but don’t use chains and the moaning bit is a little cliché,” I commented as I closed the door to my bedroom, climbed into bed, and finally joined my wife in slumber. Before I slipped into sleep, I wondered what strange things are in store for me in the future.

  The Funeral

  After the smell of breakfast cooking woke me, I dragged myself out of bed and promptly followed my nose. Char and Moiraine are busy in the kitchen. “How long until breakfast?” The sweet sound of my beautiful wife’s voice informed me it will be a few minutes still. Looking around my living room, it surprised me how quickly things had gotten back in order. If you didn’t know how our house looked before the struggle, you would not have known a fight for life and death had taken place. Blossom’s body still laid where she fell. I decided to start this dourest of tasks. As I Carried her outside, though she weighed only a few pounds, I felt I lacked the strength. Running a time-lapse movie in my head of our backyard through the years, I wanted to see how the shadows fell over time. A restful spot for her grave stood out as it has shade which lasts most of the year. Putting shovel to earth, I started to dig a grave under the oak tree. Before too long, I finished my task. It surprised me how easy my labor had been. There were no rocks or pipes to impede me. Also, there were no roots from the oak tree. It felt like the Earth on its own accord opened to cradle our fallen pet.

  Lifting her shroud covered body, I placed it gently in her new bed. Choking up, I thought, “Be strong. There will be time enough for tears later.” I placed the shovel back in the bin. Char and Mo didn’t need to see the grim reminder when we perform the funeral. It is time for breakfast, so I went back into the house to wash up.

  As I came back in and walked to the kitchen, Char told Moiraine, “Call your father to breakfast.” She turned and saw me, “Oh, there you are. Go ahead and sit down and I’ll dish up. Moiraine, did you set the table?”

  “Yes, Mom.” I could hear Mo’s eyes roll as she answered. Oh, snap! If she has already started rolling her eyes now, what does she have in store for us during her teenage years? We all sat down to our meal. All remained quiet until the bomb dropped. “Where is Blossom?” Moiraine asked. “She likes it when I give her some of my eggies.”

  Char and I locked eyes. Char motioned for me to tell Mo. Gathering my courage for the info dump, I paused a moment. As I opened my mouth, Charlene started. She put her fork down and turned in her chair to face Mo. “Moiraine,” Charlene took a deep breath, “Blossom died last night.”

  Moiraine’s chin started to quiver as she prepared to blow. “No! No! She can’t be dead!” Tears started streaming freely from her eyes. Moiraine rushed from the table and ran to her room. She returned in short order with the teddy bear in her arms. She plopped down on the couch and started rocking back and forth. Charlene and I both left the table and sat down with her between us. We embraced her there on our couch, trying to comfort her. First, Mo had to deal with her mother’s near death, and now she must deal with the death of her dog. I wish I could reach into her mind and pull out the bad memories. We talked with Mo about Blossom’s death. Char started talking about how Blossom died in her sleep. I stopped her short because life is not full of pretty little lies. Life can be cold and hard, but I believe the truth, though harsh, is the best course. The truth gives you armor. It is a shield. It is the outer candy coating for the chocolate of your being. The glare Charlene shot me shouted volumes, but she didn’t stop me.

  “Moiraine, Blossom sacrificed her life to save ours. She made sure the mean man is never coming back.” It’s a hard thing to tell your daughter you’re not her hero. “Moiraine, daddy was wrong to send you, mommy, and grandpa away. Daddy thought he could be stronger, but the truth is we are all stronger when we’re together. Daddy lost sight of the truth.” I gave Mo a big kiss and told her we would be having a funeral for Blossom later.

  “Nathan, I need to talk with you in the kitchen,” Charlene commanded me as she stood and started clearing the morning dishes off the table. Grabbing some dishes too, I followed her into the kitchen. As soon as we were alone, she spun on me and got in my face. “You had no rig
ht interrupting me. Moiraine didn’t need to hear the gritty truth. She needs to feel safe.”

  Answering, “I agree she does need to feel safe, but feeling safe does not come from ignorance. It comes from seeing a threat and knowing you can deal with it. Our little girl has faced a great many horrors lately. We’re flying blind here. It could be I am wrong, but I would have her faced the threats rather than bury her head in the sand and hope they don’t appear.” After a moment, in an unheated voice, “Sorry for interrupting you.”

  “Nathan, I don’t like the way you have been acting lately. You have been a bit of a brute. Pushing us to do things your way like no one else could possibly know better. You don’t talk to me anymore; you act on your own. Where is the old Nathan? Where is the man I married?”

  Turning away from Char, I said, “Maybe the old Nathan died at the corner. Maybe a new harder and harsher Nathan has risen like a phoenix from the ashes of my old life.”

  “Now that’s more like the man I fell in love with using over flowery words when plain talk will do.”

  “Charlene, your lifeblood was on my hands. I planned the murder of a man,” those words hung in the air for a moment, “I have an evil Entity living in my brain which I must contain or kill before it does the same to me,” with a little bitterness in my voice, “How could I not be a different man?”

  “Nathan, look at me.” I turned back around to look into my wife’s eyes. Char continued, “I’ve heard God gives no one a burden their shoulders cannot bear. You have strong shoulders.” She leaned into me and rested her head on my chest. “As soon as you find a way to deal with the creature in your head, our lives will be back to normal.”

  Her words are a comfort to me, but somehow, I knew our lives would never return to the happy boredom we enjoyed.

  Charlene made a call to her father and asked him for a favor and to attend Blossom’s funeral. It is a quiet morning of sadness as we waited for John to arrive. It had been a few hours when the doorbell rang.

  “John, I’m glad you came,” I stretched out my hand to shake his.

  Before John stepped into the house, he patted the door-jam and prayed out loud, “God bless this house and all who live here.” John came into the house. He carried the item Char asked him to bring. “Nathan, my boy, you were beaten to a pulp last night, but today you can hardly tell it.”

  “Yes. I have always been a fast healer. The bruises you can’t see still hurt like a son-of-a-bitch though.” John made his way to the door, which opens on our backyard. “Let me know when everything is set.” He disappeared into the backyard to set about his task. I told Char and Mo it would only be a few minutes. We all sat quietly on the couch, waiting for John to give the word.

  John stuck his head inside the house and informed us, “All is ready.” We filed out to the backyard. We each took up a place near Blossom’s open grave. At the head of her grave, John had placed a marker he had constructed of wood with an epitaph carved in it. The marker is simple and elegant. It reads, “Here Rests Blossom Beloved Pet and Hero.”

  After I cleared my throat, “We are all gathered here to say goodbye to Blossom. She is our pet, but more than that, she is a member of our family. Would anyone like to say a few words?”

  John took a small step forward and spoke, “I will miss you, old girl. You lived in my house for only a few short years before you followed Charlene to her home, but you brought joy and love while you lived there. Rest well.” John pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, wiped away a couple of tears, blew his nose, and took a small step back.

  “Daddy, can I say something?” Moiraine asked. I nodded and gestured for her to step forward. “I will miss you, Blossom. I love you very much. Daddy said you helped kick the mean man’s ass.”

  Trying to hide a half laugh Charlene admonished, “Moiraine, no potty-mouth. Say something else instead.”

  “Okay, Mommy, I’m sorry.” Mo turned back to Blossom’s grave and spoke again, “Thank you, Blossom, for helping kick the mean man’s butt.”

  Char mumbled, “Not exactly what I had in mind.”

  Whispering back to Char, “I don’t know. I liked ‘kick the mean man’s ass’ myself.”

  Mo stepped back as she wiped away the tears rolling down her cheeks. She leaned into her mother. Charlene wrapped an arm around Moiraine and bent her head down, so her cheek rested on the top of our daughter’s head.

  Since Char is consoling Moiraine, I stepped up. “Blossom, near the end, we spent the nights curled up together on the recliner. You were a comfort for me at a time I didn’t think I could be comforted. I will miss you. Know your sacrifice will not be forgotten. Without your courage, I don’t believe we could have won the day without losing more or maybe even all. Naysayers allege animals have no soul. They are wrong. Blossom, you have a soul of your own. How could such a sweet and gentle friend not? I say we each here have given you a piece of our own souls. Goodbye is too harsh and final a word to speak, so I will say until we meet again in the life to come.” As I finished, I stepped back to my place.

  Charlene kissed the top of Moiraine’s head and stepped up to Blossom’s grave. Char knelt at the open grave and reached out to her pet. Char stroked the shrouded Blossom with great tenderness. “We have been through many adventures together from pup to an old matron. Well, you weren’t a pup when Nathan brought you to me, but you acted like a puppy. You gave me joy and happiness. It is now time to say our goodbyes. I agree with Nathan. You do have a soul. So, until we can play together again.” Char placed Blossom’s favorite toy next to her. Char stroked her beloved pet one last time, then retreated to her place by Mo.

  “Unless someone wants to say something more,” after waiting a few moments, no one spoke up, “I hereby close this service.” Everyone started to file back into the house. “There are a few things to finish out here. I will join you inside in a few minutes.” As soon as I finished filling Blossom’s grave, I thought a heard a distinctive bark, but I am sure it is my damn memory playing tricks on me. After putting the shovel back in the tool shed, I closed the door, and there stood Blossom. She is in the peak of health and frisky as hell. She rolled over on her back and begged to have her belly rubbed. I indulged her thoroughly. She spun back on her feet and lick my face despite my protests. She turned and looked behind her and gave a little whimper. She took a step then turned back to me. “No, it’s okay girl. You deserve whatever reward awaits you.” She jumped back into my arms, gave me a few more licks. Blossom jumped back down. She turned back to the direction which drew her attention and trotted off. She vanished after three strides. “So, there is a place pets go to in the afterlife,” I thought.

  As I went back inside, I saw John quietly talking with his daughter. Moiraine sat at the table, trying to color, but they were only some doodles. “Everyone, I have something to tell you. Moiraine, take a seat on the couch with your mom and grandpa.” Mo dragged her feet as she moved to the couch. “Mo, Char, John there is a story called ‘The Rainbow Bridge’ I found it when I was mourning the loss of my first dog, Strider. It helped me through a bad time. I think this story will help all of us.” I began reciting the poem hoping it would bring some comfort to my family.

  The Package

  It is early in the morning, and no one else is up. I let my ladies sleep in as they needed the rest. Yesterday had been difficult for the whole family. There is always a price to pay for victory. The bill for my family’s safety this time was paid with the life of Blossom. However, life must and does move on. We cannot dwell in the house of sorrow for too long. It would be a disservice to those who sacrifice life and limb for us. Our job is to soldier on and live our lives in a manner which equals the price they paid.

  Looking at the coffee-can holding the remains of Mark Galos, I set my mind to work out a way to place him in police hands. They will determine it is him and return his remains to his family. It will also allow the police to call off the huge manhunt and give the families of the officers killed by his possessed c
orpse some closure. Little enough comfort for what the creature, trapped in my mind, did to them. How do I put his remains into police hands without them learning I am the one who killed the walking corpse?

  First, I retrieved a rag and some rubber gloves. I wiped down the can to remove any fingerprints I may have left on it. Next, I found a box the urn could fit in and wiped it down too. I should write a note to Detective Hawkins. After all, it’s the least I can do. I need to make it look like one of those ransom notes from a cheesy kidnapping movie where a slightly deranged madman uses all manner of cut-up text material to convey his demands. I gathered up the newspaper, Charlene’s gossip magazines, and even dug out some food cardboard packaging out of the trash. I wiped everything down before I composed my letter. I wondered which of the nine muses inspired my writing this day. The note reads: Detective Hawkins, in this box, you will find the remains of Mark Galos. I have dealt with this murderer of police and civilians. Please see to the proper disposition of his body. Tell who remains of his family he was sick. Tell them an inner demon was to blame, and Mark is now in a place of peace. I went into the kitchen to moisten a sponge to seal the envelope. I didn’t want to leave any DNA from my saliva on the nasty tasting glue. Before I started to seal the envelope, the doorbell rang. “Doesn’t anybody wait until a decent hour before they come a knocking. I mean, ringing.”