You are reader #

Chapter 16: Chain Letter by Stephen Simpson

Sometimes he feels at the rate they are going they will never have a child of their own, and when do you realize you have enough solidity and safety measures set in place to create a stable home.

He had given her an ultimatum and a period of grace to set up her advertising agency with Carl, and this morning she said if this presentation is successful, they could start making babies. So now, Stephen has hope and delight in his heart as he drives to his mom's house. He sees the sun rise over the mountains in the distance, the sky clear and blue. Already it feels like it is going to be a hot, sweltering day.

He stops in front of his mother's house. Everything is as it is every Tuesday, for the last eight months.

When he gets to the front door, he turns the handle and bumps into the door with his shoulder, so used to the fact that when he usually turned the knob, the door would give way and let him in. Not this Tuesday - the door stays firmly shut.

He considers maybe she had overslept. Normally he would just go in and smell the freshly brewed coffee all the way down the hall as he walked to the kitchen. Now he knocks and waits.

After a while, he knocks again. He hears Bobby and Beth on the other side of the door, their toenails clicking on the floor as they walk up and down the hall. He hears them lamenting softly and then one of them start to scratch on the door.

A sudden panic starts at the pit of his stomach and soon it feels as if that same feeling of dread is going to choke him. He feels his air passages squeezing closed slowly, as if he is having an asthma attack. Through the fogginess of fear now clouding his thoughts, he remembers he has a spare key for her door in his car.

He turns away from the door reluctantly, expecting her to open the door at any minute, her hair dripping wet, freshly dressed and making excuses, laughingly that she had overslept, perhaps saying, “Give an old woman a break, nice to sleep in once in a while.”

He knows how she hated going to work these days, how unhappy she was at work. How she found it difficult to motivate herself enough to get out of bed on a weekday, so that would be the reasonable explanation - she just overslept.

He walks to the car, takes the spare key for her door out of the cubbyhole and walks back to the front door, without even realizing that he had done so.

He unlocks the door, feeling appalled because he is intruding on his mom's privacy. Although he knows it is ridiculous and she would have no problem with him just coming in whenever he wanted to, but to him it still feels wrong.

Bobby immediately rushes towards him, moaning softly and then turning back towards the hall, wanting Stephen to follow him.

Beth waits at the end of the hall, in the entrance to his mom's room, looking at him suspiciously.

He speaks to them in a calming voice, terror intruding his thoughts. The dogs are behaving as if something is very, very wrong.

Stephen walks faster, almost falling over Bobby in the process. He stops himself from snapping at the dog.

Just outside his mom's door, he hesitates for the briefest moment and then looks around the door.

His mom is lying on the bed on her back, her eyes staring fixedly up at the ceiling. If not for the ghastly look on her face, the way her mouth contorted in a scream of terror and frozen this way for all of time, he would have thought she is just lying there, staring up at the ceiling.

He sinks down onto his knees, grief overcoming him swiftly and sweeping through him in one blow. The tears well up in his eyes and silently run down his cheeks.

He is the youngest and he is not ashamed to admit that his mother has always cosseted and protected him. Loving her with an unconditional love that was unmeasured by the number of stars in the evening sky. She was his confidant, his best friend from when he was only a little boy, even before his father just upped and left them one day.

Stephen knows now he left his family for another woman, but when he was young his mom never hinted or mentioned the reason for him leaving, always letting Stephen believe his father was a super-hero. Lisa told him when he was twelve, out of spite. His mom then sat with him, they spoke late into the night and she made Stephen realize and repeat after her, that his father leaving never had anything to do with a little boy of five. It was never Stephen's fault.

All these thoughts rush through his mind simultaneously and he has blanked off. It is as if he is somewhere else, not here in this room where one of the two most important people in his life is lying lifeless in her bed.

Some might think it is sad for a grown man to think of his mother as his best friend, an important factor in his life. A wife should have replaced her, but for Stephen it never worked out that way. He loves Adèle with a passion bordering on obsession and they can discuss things, they can talk for hours, they are married, share everything they do, know every irritating thing about each other, but they remain individuals. Stephen suddenly realizes in this room with the faint smell of death that Adèle has never been his friend.

With this thought still mulling in his mind, he takes his phone from his jacket pocket and phones Adèle.

After the second ring, she answers, “Hey, sweet lips,” and she laughs.

He is unable to say anything because he does not want to seem weak to her. He does not want to burst out crying over the phone, although afterwards he will think that he had a particularly good reason, most probably the best reason he would ever have.







Copyright © Stephen Simpson. All Rights Reserved. 
All work created and posted on this blog is the intellectual property of Stephen Simpson.

Comments