Dreams of Shadows, Patrick Sean Lee [best historical fiction books of all time TXT] 📗

I very, very sick? Why was that needle in my hand? Where’s Ash?”

If this was a ploy of some sort, it was a good one. Even so, I began to doubt my own suspicions. What could I look for in the Mari standing there hugging Cynthia that would entirely dash that initial feeling of differentness we’d both experienced a second or two ago? And then a thought exploded into my head. Ash was somewhere outside playing. The creatures…

Lashawna broke the spell. “Ash is fine. He’s outside playing. Are you hungry? Do you think you can walk?”

I dashed back to the window. The creatures were gone. Ash was halfway down the drive throwing rocks into the orchard branches. They had left him alone. I thanked them. Who else could I thank, after all?

Mari released her grip on Cynthia, and stepped away from her to face Lashawna. “Why would you think I couldn’t?” That un-childlike voice again. The tone slightly different, lower, but nearly undetectably so, and the coy half-smile following the rhetorical question. Lashawna didn’t seem to notice, and I could only surmise that it was because of the weight lifted off her at seeing life back in Mari.

“Because you’ve been bedridden for nearly two weeks!”

Mari showed no reaction, instead took hold of Lashawna’s hand and walked past Cynthia and me in the direction of the door.

“See?” she said. “I can walk, and I am hungry. I’m starving!”

“Well then, I’ll fix you something delicious! If you don’t mind having canned meat. The guys have found vegetables…” She went on about the daily trips our men had taken as they left the bedroom and walked gingerly down the hall. I lingered inside, placing a hand on Cynthia’s arm when she began to move.

“She’s not right. Something happened. You saw it too, didn't you?”

The momentary confusion reappeared on her face, but then she shrugged her shoulders. “Maybe it’s just part of regaining consciousness. Her thoughts are still rattled. Come on.”

We left to join them, but something told me she’d reached the easy conclusion, and I didn’t think it was the right one.

 

Mari ate as though there were three of her. She laughed at Lashawna’s comments between bites, and generally acted in the old-Mari way. Her eyes were clear and bright. Inquisitive. Filled with laughter. I watched to see if there would suddenly be a change, but nothing.

Ten minutes later a high-pitched roar and the sound of gravel being thrown aside burst into the house through the open front door. They were home, and in a hurry. I left the kitchen at a run, Cynthia right on my heels. We burst through the entryway onto the porch, and my eyes opened wide in a kind of I-didn't-expect-this surprise when I saw it.

 I should have known it would eventually happen, though. I mean, it was inevitable. The red sportscar rocketed up the drive and came to a screeching halt at the apex of the circle below the steps. A half-second later the door opened, and Munster jumped out.

Ash was on the grass fifteen away, the stick in his hand drooping at the interruption of whatever game he’d been consumed with seconds ago. Behind him and to his right, the dark cylinder stood solidly locked to the earth beneath it, watching all of this, reporting the entire scene to the mother ship somewhere, I was certain.

Munster paid no attention to Ash, who dropped the stick immediately and sprinted on stubby legs toward the gorgeously sleek vehicle. My rebellious friend was at the steps in a heartbeat, and he nearly stumbled up them in an effort to begin throwing the questions at us. Lashawna and Jack, now beside us with Mari between them, quickly added to the mix of gawkers, dismissing Munster in favor of his latest toy.

“Wow!”

“Holy-shit-howdy…you’re back!”

“Where did you find that?” Lashawna exclaimed, releasing her hand from Mari’s arm and dashing down the steps.

Munster managed only a few words, glancing distractedly at her, and then back again to little Mari. “Uhh…car lot. Up the coast…Mari!”

To Cynthia and me, “What happened?”

"We’ve no idea! She just woke up. Jack was with her upstairs…Munster! It’s beautiful!” Cynthia blurted. Suddenly, Mari’s reappearance among the living seemed secondary in everyone’s mind, except Munster's and mine. For her part, Mari hopped onboard the awestruck train exiting the porch to pour their affections all over the sportscar. At first they walked around it, touching its polished surface as if it were something holy. It was Mari who first opened the passenger side door and popped inside. On finally noticing Mari, little Ash stumbled a step, and then began screaming in joy. Lashawna quickly rounded the car and then climbed into the driver’s seat, rubbing her hands around the steering wheel reverently.

“Where are the others?” I asked.

“Dunno’. Comin’ I guess. I left first. Jesus, what happened? She’s really back!”

I took hold of his hand, and we sat down on the top step, watching the congregation oohing and ahhing over the car. Wherever the men had been when Cynthia broke the news to them, I could just imagine seeing the streak of rubber and cloud of smoke when Munster shot off the lot to return home.

“Munster, there’s something strange about Mari now.”

“Huh?”

“Just keep an eye on her. Oh, I mean, just watch. Don’t say a word, but…Munster, sometimes she’s the old Mari, but at other times…it’s just strange.”

Before he had time to plunge more deeply into questioning, I noticed Mari suddenly turn her attention to us, her eyes knitted, a tiny smile growing on her face. The look sent chills up my spine.

 

Books and Games

 I covered my mouth with a hand, and tried to explain the series of events in the bedroom after Cynthia, Lashawna and I entered to find Mari awake.

“She had this glazed look in her eyes, Munster.”

“You would too if you’d been out for two weeks.”

“No, no, different than that. Almost as if she could see right through me. Into me.”

“I dunno’. Maybe the stress of all this last-of-the-humans crap. Makes you imagine…”

Cynthia popped her head out of the window and called to Munster. “How do you start it?”

“Red button on the steering wheel.” A second or two passed, and then the low roar of the engine.

“What kind of car is it?” I asked leaving the subject of Mari’s strange condition for the moment.

“Ferrari. Latest model. Cool, huh?”

“It’s pretty. Maybe later you can take me for a ride.” On second thought, probably not a good idea. Listening to Cynthia revving the engine, I could just see Munster losing control.

“It’s fast, I’m guessing?”

He looked at me with a huge grin on his face. “You can’t imagine.”

“Expensive?”

“Hell no! It was free.”

“Well, yes, but I mean when…before all this happened.”

“Not sure, but Charlie said it was worth a couple hundred grand. There weren’t no sticker on it at the dealership. If you had to ask how much it cost, you prob'ly couldn’t afford it.”

We could afford anything we wanted in those days, even a mansion way up in Beverly Hills. If any of us was inclined to leave our modest farmhouse and move to Los Angeles. Out of the question—the stench would be horrific. Perhaps in a few years. Perhaps never. I couldn’t say what our separate futures here would be by then. If Peter’s attitude toward impetuous Munster would worsen over time and they would wind up wanting to literally kill one another. A thousand different scenarios could present themselves as time passed, and the true reality of living alone settled in. For the time being we could bring home anything our hearts desired…if we could load it into the truck, drag it, or in Munster’s case, drive it.

Peter and Jerrick wheeled onto the drive in the BMW, followed by Charles, all by himself in the truck a few seconds later. They slammed on the brakes when they neared the Ferrari, and like Munster had done, flew out. Jerrick’s fingers guided him along the body of the car, and even though his eyes were vacant, I could feel the excitement overwhelming him.

Cynthia continued to rev the powerful engine. Mari had heard the two vehicles skidding to a stop on the gravel. She opened the passenger door and swung her legs out to greet them. Munster and I leapt off the porch and joined the elated men.

“Hi, kid!” Peter exclaimed.

Charles ran directly to Mari and hugged her. “I knew you’d pull through, Mari. Tell me all about it,” he said releasing her little body and holding it at arms length with his bandaged hands. “Do you remember anything?”

How lovingly he uttered the words. Father Charles. The only one of our small group who might retain sanity and guide us through the difficult times ahead. Who might, on the other hand, be one of them, along with Mari. The thought was terrifying. I pressed myself to believe otherwise.

The rejoicing continued for quite a while, Peter in particular was ecstatic, plying her with a hundred questions, remarking over and over how good she looked. Mari merely said it had all been strange. There had been dreams, she recalled vaguely, but nothing else that she could remember. A deep, empty sleep. After a time, Charles crossed around the front of the car to the driver’s side, reached in through the open door, and pressed a button on the steering wheel. The engine purred to a stop.

“Help us bring the things we gathered into the house, Cyn.”

She reacted with, “Isn’t it just the coolest car you’ve ever seen?”

“Yes, it’s very nice. Time for a little work, however.” He lifted his head and spoke to the rest of us. “Okay, let’s get the things in the truck into the house and put away. We need to talk. Peter, give Mari a hand. Let’s go.”

“I can walk just fine. I’m ok.”

Peter took hold of her hand anyway, and led her into the house as if she might collapse at any second. With Ash at their side, she began to babble and giggle in the old Mari way. I watched for a second or two, and then joined Munster, Lashawna, and Charles at the rear of the now very plain-looking truck. There were several boxes of vegetables among the array of sundry items wrapped and sealed in colorful boxes. At the front beneath the cab window, half a dozen large bags of soil, and what I guessed must be seeds in burlap bags in front of them. Our adult was going to make good his comment from days ago to begin growing food. In time the produce in the farms in the outlying areas would wither and die. We’d be left with only Spam and crackers. If we could only plant a cow or a goat or a pig, how lovely our life would be.

“We’ll leave the fertilizer and seed for the time being. Here, Lashawna, take this toaster that caught young Munster’s eye. What in God’s name we need another toaster for is beyond me, but he wanted it.”

“Amelia’s gonna’ make bread. We ain’t got no butter, but toast’ll be nice in the morning. Lots of it.”

“You can make bread, and while I’m thinking about it, you can take your turn at vacuuming the floors and washing the bed sheets. You can scrub the toilets