The Awakening - Short Story

Dry leaves float to the ground and crunch under his feet. He stares at them - shriveled patches of brown and yellow. The wheels of the chair squeak on the cobbled stones. He parks the chair by an old Oak tree, pushing it close to the painted wooden bench, pulling up the brake and tucking in the blanket around Sammy's legs. Early morning breath mists over his glasses as he sits down and stares into the rest of the park.

Few people are about and only one boy stands glaring at his mother, tossing a ball from one hand to the other while the first frost of the season slowly melts under his booted feet. Further on a girl with a green sweater tugs at the leash restraining her Labrador, her rhythmic footfall only disturbed by the sharp barks of the dog.

Brian sighs and fingers the book in his hands. Sammy's diary. Two years of marriage and he didn't even know she kept one. Guilt makes him stare at Sammy. Her blond hair hangs limp around her angelic face, the blue eyes dull with what he hopes is incomprehension. To assume she understands what is happening to her is too painful. The darkness inside his mind creeps closer, casting gray shadows over the memories he treasures - keeping tune with the clouds above.

The leather is rough beneath his fingertips as he opens the diary. Yellow patches litter the first page. Sammy's diary. He turns to the first entry

'June 10, 2006

Today is my wedding day'

He tears his eyes away from the page and looks at Sammy. She cocks her head to the side and her eyes remain fixed on him.

"How much do you understand of this, my love?"

He folds the blanket over her shoulders and strokes her hair. She is still the most beautiful woman he has ever seen. Sitting back down he reads the sentence again. The letters blur into one another as the memories flood in.

He walks up the steps of the chapel, inhaling the scent of roses and freshly cut grass. Summer buzzes around him and a trickle of sweat runs down his back. Magnolias pour their sweetness into the gentle breeze. Heat waves dance on the tarred road behind, changing the shape of the parked cars. No one ventures outside without good reason. Those not in the chapel, and they are but a handful, hide inside their homes.

The bell chimes three times and Brian jumps at the sudden sound. He crushes the cigarette under his shoe adding to the pile already littering the steps. Sammy is fashionably late. Hank, his brother, promised to call him as soon as the bridal car comes round the bend on the other side of the church. He pushes his hand into the pocket of his jacket and clenches his fingers around the small velvet box.

Three years worth of savings sat in this little box, of working voluntary shifts to get the money for the ring. The mobile phone shrieks in the afternoon silence. Brian gropes inside his pants pocket and answers the call. It is time.

Sammy walks towards him down the aisle and everything else fades into nothingness. The vision in white was soon to be his bride. Her father lifts the veil and Brian inhales sharply. Her blue eyes are alive with love and wonder. And it's all for him. His heart wants to jump out of his chest. After today, Sammy is his forever. Nothing would separate them again - their happiness guaranteed.

A leaf resting precariously on the tip of his nose brings him back to the park He giggles and the sound shocks him into silence. Only the grass and the trees witness the tear sliding down his cheek. Sammy frets in the wheelchair and he pulls the chair closer to him.

"Oh, Sammy, we were so happy. I still love you, you know. No matter what happens, I will never leave you."

A groan from the wheelchair startles him. He peers into the blue depths, trying to find any sign of comprehension. It was the first time she reacted to anything he did or said. He covers the cold white hand with his and drops his eyes to the diary.

He reads on. Their first candlelight dinner, the buying of their first small car, their first fight - Sammy cataloged every event in vivid detail. Nothing new, nothing to help explain her illness.

The wind gushes through the trees, picking up leaves and tossing them down further into the park. Discarded, useless to anyone but Mother Nature. Brian snaps the diary shut and releases the brake on Sammy's chair. They had better get inside before she catches a cold. More people stroll through the park now, encouraged by the sliver of sunlight occasionally filtering through the clouds.

"Come on, Sweetheart, we need to go."

The wheels shriek their protest at the cobbled surface when he pushes it towards the gate of the park. He turns onto the grass as an old man leaning heavily on his cane, approaches from the front. The man stops next to them, resting a hand on Sammy's arm. Brian shifts his weight to the other foot. Still the old man stares. Brian tries to push the wheelchair further onto the grass, but the man's grip is firm.

"It's almost over. Only hours to go now, Sammy."

The old man straightens and walks by, leaving Brian gaping. How the hell did he know her name? Brian swings around to call the man back and his mouth remains open, failing to form the words. The path is empty. He shakes his head. Did he imagine the old man? Is he finally losing his mind? The rest of the park is curiously empty - and quiet.

He pushes the wheelchair back to the path and stretches his stride. Chills run down his spine and he glances over his shoulder. White fog moved in while he walked away and the trees are black arms fighting through the mist. He shivers and runs out the gate, steering the chair into the busy street. Pedestrians grumble as he bumps into them, but he hardly hears them.

The warmth of the apartment welcomes him inside. He tosses the diary on the kitchen table and picks Sammy up. For several long moments he hugs her close. Her thin frame no strain on his muscles. He buries his face in her hair and tries to capture her scent, which has been curiously absent for the last six months and gently lays her on the bed.

A gust of icy wind whirls through the apartment. Checking the windows and door, he finds them all secure. Turning around his eyes fall on the table. Pages are scattered over the surface and the diary lies open.

"What the hell is going on here?"

Brian takes a step closer. The papers remain motionless. He moistens his dry lips with a flick of his tongue. Three steps more. Nothing happens. He hovers over the pages strewn on the surface, but his eyes keep straying to the open diary. The words seem to jump out at him.

'April 18, 2008

The old man found me today. I hoped he would forget our agreement. Guess I should've known better. I'm scared... Not for myself, but for Brian and my family. Will they pass the test? Will I be able to live with it if they don't? Oh, why did I make the deal in the first place?"

Brian flips the page and reads on.

'April 25, 2008

He said it was time. Tomorrow I have to fulfill my end of the deal. I already feel the darkness closing in, its smothering presence sucking the life out of me. My limbs are heavy and I can't concentrate. I don't know if I can go through with it. Looks like I don't have a choice. It has begun.'

Brian exhales sharply. The last entry was the day before she got sick. Sammy never warned him. She could have, but she didn't. He gathers the stray pages and piles them in a heap with shaky fingers. Despite the central heating, he shivers.

The chair scrapes on the wooden floor as he wills his legs to support his weight. He opens the window wide to let in some fresh air. The sun has disappeared behind gray clouds leaving the world clad in deep shadows. Brian turns back to the room and the gloom of outside appeared to have seeped inside. He strides to the bed. Sammy is sleeping peacefully for the first time in weeks.

"What have you done, my love?" His whisper is harsh in the silence of the room.

He sits down at the table again and sorts the pages into date order. Slowly but surely a picture emerges of Sammy's secret life, her passion and burning ambition to become a mother. All the entries for over a year evolve around her trying to conceive. Brian remembers it as a tiresome period in their marriage. Sammy spent days reading flyers of why woman can't fall pregnant and tried every advice she could lay her hands on. When she finally stopped talking about it, he thought she made peace with the thought that if it were meant to be she would have a baby. The entries in the diary shatter that belief.

She found a way to ensure conception. Three months before her illness she met an old man who offered a solution to her problem. She seemed exited, but also apprehensive. After the initial entries about the old man, she never mentions him again until the entry on April 18. Still no closer to solving the mystery, he shoves the loose pages back into the diary and fastens the buckle on the leather cover.

He lowers his head in his hands, raking his fingers through his long black hair. Exhaustion draws his eyelids together and he folds his arms on the table. He'll just rest for a while before taking Sammy for her bath. His eyes drift shut.

"Wake up sleepyhead."

A cool hand briefly shakes his arm. Brian forces his eyelids apart. His muscles refuse to obey his brain as he tries to get up. The voice seemed so real. Sammy's voice - Sammy's touch.

"Come on love, you need to get up. Grant will be here soon to pick you up for work."

Brian bolts upright. The room spins and he crashes back on the pillow. His eyes dart through the room. He finds her in the kitchen, pouring black coffee from a percolator jug into a mug. Her blond hair still tousled from sleep. An apron protects her pink satin nightgown. Sammy glances over her shoulder and the coffee misses the mug. She blinks twice and slowly puts the pot down, never taking her eyes off him. Cautiously she approaches the bed.

"Brian?" Her whisper caresses his ears. He clears his dry throat.

"Yes."

"You finally woke up. Baby, I thought I'd lost your forever." She traces the outline of his face with her fingers.

Her touch is as he remembers it - gentle, cool and loving. He closes his eyes and lets the familiar sensation flow over him. Her sweet scent drifts up his nostrils. Oh, how he missed that smell for the last six months. Opening his eyes, he stares into the blue ones brimming with tears.

"Hi Sweetheart. When did you wake up? Are you all right?" His voice seems rough as if he'd not used it for a long time. He tries to sit up and the world tilts on its axis... Clutching his head, he falls back against the pillows. Pillows? He fell asleep at the table. How did he get to the bed?

The room stops turning and Brian carefully peers through half closed eyelids. The room seems different, strangely sunny. A chrome and glass table sits in the middle of a round Persian rug. Daffodils scream their yellow joy at the world from a painted ceramic pot. Bright yellow light filters through the kitchen window and the whole apartment reeks of cooked bacon and toast. He frowns.

"Brian, honey, what do you mean when did I wake up?"

He squeezes her hand.

"Sweetheart, you were sick for nearly six months and now suddenly I wake up and you are bright and sunny and look healthy, acting as if nothing is wrong."

"Honey, you were in a coma for the last five months." He tries to place the strange quality in her voice.

"I've been in a coma? Why?"

"A drunken driver knocked you over on your way to night shift. With no external injuries, the doctors couldn't understand why you wouldn't wake up. Three months ago, they sent you home, saying there was nothing they could do. Baby, you were the one asleep, not me."

She pauses. Brian can't form the words on his tongue.

"I'm just glad you're awake. I missed you."

Brian slowly sits up and waits for the dizziness to pass. He swings his feet off the bed and stands up. His legs gives way at the same time as Sammy grabs him by the shoulders. They hit the floor with a thud, Sammy landing on top of him. His muscles react predictably to the weight on top.

"Looks like everything else is working fine." Sammy's eyes twinkle down into his. He shifts his body and turns on his side, taking her with him.

"Sammy, do you keep a diary?" Her body goes rigid.

"Whoa, where does that come from?"

"Well, do you? A red leather bound one with some loose pages?" Her heart races against his palm.

"Yes. Why?"

"You kept the diary hidden, taped to the top drawer of your dresser. Why did you hide it from me?"

"Now you're freaking me out. When did you find it?"

"Yesterday."

Sammy rises to her knees, dragging Brian with her. She shoulders his weight and a few steps further he stands on his own, muscles shaking with the strain. The silence stretches until he is safely back on the bed. Sammy takes his hand in hers and wipes the sweat of his forehead with a cloth.

"Baby, yesterday you were in a coma. You couldn't have found it yesterday."

"Sammy, yesterday you were in vegetative state. I took you to the park and we met an old man saying it's almost over. What deal did you make with the old man?"

Sammy's body stiffens. She pulls her hand out of Brian's and walks to the window, keeping her back to him. She folds her arms protectively around her stomach. He can hear her rapid breathing.

"Sammy?"

The silence stretches. Sammy stands motionless hugging herself. Darkness rolls into the room as the sun disappears behind the clouds. Cold air filters in through the open windows. Still she remains silent.

"Sammy, talk to me."

She hangs her head and the blond hair cascade down her shoulders. When she starts to speak, a chill freezes his limbs, rendering him impotent against the wave of emotion whirling through the room.

"I want a baby. Nobody was willing to help, nothing worked. I went to a woman at the pier, a gypsy. She said I will have my baby, but the child will be accompanied by a terrible darkness, a time of mourning."

Sammy turns around from the window and sits down on the bed beside Brian. Her guilt darkens her eyes, flushes her face. He pushes on, he wants more.

"What did you do? Where does the old man come into the picture?"

Sammy compresses her lips in a straight line. She shakes her head and averts her eyes.

"If I tell you, this would all be for nothing. He said nobody must know the truth." Brian opens his mouth in protest and closes it again. Questions whirl through his mind, confusing his thoughts. He waits for the storm to calm.

"How did the gypsy explain the darkness?"

Sammy clasps her hands together in her lap. Her face contorted in a frown. She inhales, but a knock on the door stops her from speaking. Relief floods over her face as she runs to the door.

Brian can't see the visitor, but Sammy's stiff body reveals an unwelcome one. The visitor whispers something to Sammy and she stands back to allow him access. He walks towards Brian lying on the bed.

Brian takes a few seconds to recognize the old man from the park. He is much younger now and his gait is upright, but he is undoubtedly the same man.

"I don't' think we need introductions." The man perches on the edge of the bed.

"No, you're the man from the park." The man nods.

"What is going on here?"

"Sammy is now pregnant and I have twenty more years to live inside this body. A favorable agreement, don't you think?"

Brian frowns.

"How, if I've been in a coma for five months?"

"Ten years of each of your lives. You're young and could live another fifty, but this body had days to go."

"Could?" Brian screams. "What do you mean by could?"

"Who knows what the Good Lord plans for you? Might be today, might be tomorrow, might be in fifty years." The man rises from the bed and walks to the door. Sammy leans against the frame, hugging her stomach - a satisfied smile on her lips. Brian's mind refuses to compute the sudden bulge.

"Wait." Brian calls. "Who are you?"

The man turns around and stares at Brian for a long moment before he answers. The temperature inside the room drops and Brian shivers.

"You won't be able to handle the truth if you hear it." He continues towards the door.

"Try me." The words chatter against Brian's teeth as the man stops. Icicles cling to the overhead light and steam rises from the blankets. Sammy stands rooted to the spot at the door, motionless, waiting.

The man slowly turns around.

Brian's scream shatters the ice crystals in the room. In the sudden silence, the man walks out the door, a smile on his face.

Sammy hugs her now protruding stomach as she stares down at Brian. "It's just you and me now, my precious. Daddy won't be around to bother us anymore."