Dark of Night - Flesh and Fire (23 page)

Inside the light, he saw his reflection. The figure reached a shimmering hand forward and pressed it against Todd's chest. The touch burned for a moment, before the spirit disintegrated into the night, and Todd knew he was marked.

~Todd~

Todd’s eyes snapped open. He touched the empty spot on the bed beside him, sighed and squeezed the satin top sheet. Where the hell was Anna?

He sat up and groaned, feeling aches in his bones that he could’ve sworn hadn’t been there a week ago. He got out of bed and checked his phone for a message from Anna. She’d been working late, but had she come home at all? He dialed her number, expecting nothing. After five rings, her voicemail picked up to tell him his expectations weren’t unreasonable.

He would’ve called the police if this hadn’t become somewhat normal for her lately. She’d been working a lot, well into the night. Since she worked in Philadelphia, which was a long commute, sometimes she got a hotel. Usually she called.

“Hey, where the hell are you?” he asked after the tone. “You said you’d let me know if you weren’t coming home.”

He hung up, slumped his shoulders and sighed. He tossed his phone down on the bed and staggered to the bathroom, stopping to grab the pressed suit that hung on the door.

Fuck. He remembered feeling like he wouldn’t have been caught dead wearing a suit.

In the bathroom mirror he shaved away the growth on his face from the past day and examined himself. Most of his hair had gone gray, even though his driver’s license still said it was brown. Laugh lines creased the corners of his mouth and eyes. He was old.

Fifty-two, to be exact. He remembered not being sure if he’d make it to fifty-two and living too much in the moment to give a damn. His father had died last year, at seventy-seven. Twenty-five years away from fifty-two. Didn’t seem so long at all now and that scared him. Too much of his life felt unresolved for death to loom so near in the future. Could he get his life together in another twenty-five years? What if he died sooner than that? How much would be left unfinished?

In his twenties, during those rare times when he did think about getting older, he certainly never saw himself
here
at fifty-two. With how much he and Anna worked and how little they saw each other, he had a hard time identifying as a married man. His son, Dale, had run off to join the Marine Corps and they no longer spoke. His daughter, Katie, still lived at home as she worked her way through nursing school, but it was only a matter of time before she left. He’d miss her.

Sometimes he thought about getting out of the house himself, perhaps even starting over completely.

While more stable than his family life, his job left much to be desired. He spent eight hours a day in a cubicle, the sort of thing he once swore he’d never do. He supposed it had gotten him far, by someone’s standards, his father’s, perhaps. An acre of land. A Cadillac. A big, three-story house with two-hundred thousand left on the mortgage. A newly remodeled kitchen that he wasn’t sure he could pay off if his marriage fell apart. A son that refused to talk to him. A daughter too sweet for her own good.

On the way to the kitchen, he saw that the door to his studio hung ajar. He stopped and stared into the crack, catching glimpses of the items inside. Forgetting that he had to be at work soon, he pushed the door all the way open.

The stacks of old notebooks, the in-home studio equipment, and the black Gibson that hung on his wall brought a wave of nostalgia. Stickers from local bands that hadn’t existed for decades covered the guitar. Todd sighed. He hadn’t entered that room in years.

“Dad?”

He closed the door quickly, as if ashamed of the room's contents, then turned and saw Katie standing in the foyer. She wore a too-short denim skirt and a bright yellow top. Open toed shoes revealed toenails painted bright pink. She smiled and it lit her entire face. It was summertime and she embodied the joy that it brought younger people. Since she was in school and summer still held some significance for her. For Todd, it just meant the days got longer and hotter.

“Want some breakfast?” she asked.

He caught the aromas of bacon and coffee. He checked his watch to make sure he had sufficient time to enjoy the food. He smiled at his daughter, nodded, and followed her into the kitchen. She moved with a spring in her step, seeming to dance as she walked. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had such energy.

“What are you so happy about at six thirty in the morning?”

“Can’t I be excited to cook my dad breakfast? I haven’t seen you in a while.”

Todd tried to recall the last time he’d sat down to a meal with his family and couldn’t.

“Besides, I had a long and crazy night, and I’m running on my second wind.”

He sat down at the granite island in the center of the kitchen. “You didn’t sleep?”

Katie giggled. “Nope. Summer’s officially here. No more finals, no more early classes. I’m looking forward to three months of enjoying myself.”

“Well, if pulling all-nighters is your idea of enjoying yourself…Did you see your Mom?”

“I actually just got home.”

Jesus
. He cringed against the idea of her being up all night doing God knew what. Funny; he’d probably done much of the same things she was experiencing now, but it was different for him to know she behaved this way. She was his
daughter
. He’d been wild at her age. The thought didn’t come with as much regret or disdain as he expected.

Katie cracked an egg and let it fall into the frying pan. She looked over her shoulder.

“Did you not see her last night?”

“She said she was working late, but she wasn’t here when I woke up this morning.”

Katie cocked an eyebrow. “How long’s that been going on?”

“What do you mean?” He played dumb. No sense in letting Katie in on their marital problems, at least not until they directly affected her.
If
there were marital problems. She’d probably just forgotten to call. She’d get his voicemail and apologize. Then they could talk their issues out.

“Never mind, I guess.” She turned back to the pan, pushing the eggs around with the spatula. “Anyway, my friends and I were driving around listening to your album. You really used to rock.”

Used to
.

Todd sipped his coffee and remembered the door to his studio hanging open, the glimpse of his past he’d allowed himself. “Thanks. I think.”

“No, really, we all enjoyed it. Jake always thought you were kind of a square, but he’s changed his opinion of you.”

“Who’s Jake and why does he think I’m a square?”

Katie set a mug of steaming black coffee down in front of him. “You met Jake a few months ago one night when he picked me up. Anyway, you’re always wearing suits and stuff. He didn’t mean anything by it.”

Todd recalled dressing in front of the mirror this morning and thinking how much he’d transformed over the years. He couldn’t get offended if someone from his daughter’s generation thought he was a square. Had he met his future self at her age, he would’ve thought the same thing.

Katie put a plate with eggs, bacon, and strawberries in front of him.

“Looks good.”

“It wasn’t difficult to make, honest.”

She crossed the kitchen and fished into her purse. She pulled out a CD case with an image of a much younger Todd on the front holding a guitar, the same instrument that hung in his study. She set it down next to him.

“It’s like looking in a mirror isn’t it?” Katie said.

“Not quite.”

“Do you want me to put it back? I didn’t get a chance to last night.”

She started to pull it away, but Todd reached out and pinned the case to the surface. He remembered writing the eight songs that made up the entirety of the album with the confidence that they would resonate with everyone who heard them. He remembered recording them during his first year of marriage with a certain desperation and hope that they wouldn’t disappear forever, that someone, somewhere would hear them, that they would outlive him. In a strange way, having his daughter hear and enjoy them made it feel like they had.

That he’d started to record them the day after Chloe died hit him like a punch in the gut.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Food’s a little spicy, that’s all. Spicy, but good.”

“Just like Mom used to make.” She sat down across from him. “So what’s really going on between you two?”

“I’m sure everything’s fine, Katie.”

He said it without believing it and it hurt to lie to her.

“If you say so,” she said. “I just worry, Dad.”

“If I’m not worried, you shouldn’t be. I think work’s been keeping her really busy.” More bullshit, but what else could he say?

Katie tensed her jaw. Her eyes burned with a determination to know more. She opened her mouth, and then closed it. She sighed. “If you say so…”

He gave her hand a light squeeze. “I say so. You know, I think I’m going to take this CD to work today. Maybe I’ll give it a listen, see if these songs hold up.”

She took her hand away and smiled. “You may surprise yourself.”

“Not all surprises are pleasant.”

~Chloe~

Thirty years, a blink in eternity.

Thirty years that felt like thirty thousand had passed.

Thirty years she had suffered in that horrible place.

Thirty years ago, she had died and learned that true death, an eternal sleep, a peaceful rest, didn’t exist.

The familiar voice and chord progression of the song "Blissfully Damaged" rose among the sounds of suffering as she knelt in the muck of Samael's chamber. The demon that had helped her die stood over her as her mutilated flesh healed and grew back over her bones. Over the past thirty years this destruction of her body had become a ritual. Samael tore her apart and put her back together, unmaking and remaking her every day.

The notes of the song paralyzed him and awoke in her a long-buried will to escape. She ran towards the sound through eruptions of flame and the grasping claws of the damned, the notes getting louder with every step. The music projected from a yawning chasm that had opened in the ground. She closed her eyes, jumped in, and landed in these woods.

Behind her a fiery tear in space closed up. The chirping of birds, the scurrying of squirrels, and the gentle rustling of leaves replaced the song. The smells of ashes and burning hair faded with every moment, replaced by damp and lively smells of mud and foliage. She saw that she wore a short black dress, identical to the one she’d worn the day she died. In the other world, she’d always been naked and vulnerable.

Thinking of the place from which she’d escaped sprung her into action. Without knowing where to go, the frantic need not to get caught carried her forward. She didn’t know how much more pain Samael could inflict upon her, but she was confident that if he caught her, he’d think of something.

Fog parted below Chloe’s bare feet as they struck the forest floor. She brushed aside low-hanging branches and strived not to slow her pace. Her leg muscles burned as she ran. Her heart rate quickened. Wind whipped against her face, blowing back her hair and stinging her eyes. She hadn’t felt with the senses of this body since dying, and she’d been dead nearly a decade longer than she’d been alive. All these new sensations held meanings for her. The crunch of dry leaves under her feet meant freedom. A breath of cool morning air meant she was alive again, truly alive. Maybe now there was hope.

Downhill momentum carried her to the shoulder of a road. The cool pavement beneath her feet brought calm. She stopped to risk a look back and listened. If Samael was after her, he wasn’t too close behind.

Slight vibrations in the ground and the hum of a motor heralded an oncoming car. With it she caught ear of the familiar song that had reached her in that other world. She stood on the side of the road and awaited the right moment.

~Todd~

Todd sang along with his younger voice as it carried through his Cadillac’s sound system. Much out of practice, he’d even forgotten some of the words and how to hit certain notes, but it felt good anyway. Like his twenty-two-year-old self still lived somewhere inside his middle-aged body.

The route to work cut through heavily wooded hills, farmland, and at one glorious moment overlooked the valley that cased the serene Willow Lake. Though an unbearably tedious job awaited him at the end, these forty minutes, with the gorgeous scenery and the rolling rhythm of movement brought peace to his thoughts. Hearing his own music today brought an even more special vibe to his commute.

The realization that the songs still held up brought the best feelings and the music gave way to images. A crowded bar full of people that he looked upon from the stage. Bright spotlights and neon signs. The images awakened something within him. Singing to these songs, remembering the stories they told, brought clarity to dreams that he forgot upon waking and phantom smells that pulled him into depths of melancholy.

Todd pressed the gas pedal to the floor and watched the speedometer climb. His car glided over the asphalt, carried by energy not of this world. The music pounded the atmosphere. His young, strong voice soared through it. His words told of the tragedy at the forefront of his heart back when he’d recorded them. Now the words stung and exhilarated him.

He remembered Chloe. Though he’d written some of the songs before meeting her, they seemed to serve as prophecies for the fate that would befall her. They’d loved each other, but he had left her. He’d thought it for the best, or at least he’d heard it enough times to believe it. After trying normal life for a while, moving in with Anna and giving up music to focus on his banking job, he changed his mind. He'd intended to go back to Chloe before tragedy had claimed her.

He could feel her in his arms now, smell her, taste her. Drifting farther away, he remembered her greeting him with a kiss as he got off the stage, and sang louder. Something like a weight belt tightened across his diaphragm. Back then those words brought purpose, like he stood out from the rest of the herd, like he mattered.