8. 2
“Caspian! Over here!” Bess was waving frantically at me from the trees.
I tried to concentrate and used all of my strength to escape.
All of a sudden, I fell to my knees, wincing as the gravelly ground dug through my pajamas into my kneecaps.
The children were no longer there and now I was at some train tracks, on a disused stretch of line.
Rusty dilapidated carriages were abandoned on the disused sidings, left to rot.
I shivered. The place felt ominous and unwelcoming.
I heard shouting and screaming in front of me and there, like I was watching a forbidden movie was Savannah laying in the dirt, being raped, spat on and degraded by my parents and several other members of our prestigious community.
I spotted Briar’s parents and also several other parents from kids in my class.
Fuck! Now I knew who they all were. I was rooted to the spot in shock for a moment.
Then I blundered into the fray, but my hands passed through them like they were holograms. I tried and tried to pull them off of Savannah, but it was no good.
All I could do was watch her being raped and stabbed.
When it was over, I crouched down, staring at the semi-conscious bloodied girl and gently touched her face, even though my hand passed right through it.
Then I became angry, pounding the ground with my fists until my knuckles were scuffed and bleeding. Bess wriggled out from under one of the old carriages, sniffling and trembling like a terrified child. I picked her up and rocked her, trying not to baulk at the stench of her singed hair.
I woke up trembling and freaked out when I discovered that I wasn’t in bed, but laying in the dirt next to the train tracks, Bess nestled into my chest.
“Fuck!” I said in anguish, as I staggered around trying to get my bearings, wincing as I stood on sharp stones in my bare feet.
I saw my Land Rover parked just ahead and realized that I’d driven there.
It was a wonder I wasn’t dead. I could hear the ghost giggling and wailing of dead children coupled with Savannah’s screams for mercy.
I put my hands over my ears and screwed my eyes shut.
“Leave me alone! Get out of my head!” I howled.
Overtaken by a rush of guilt, I got into my car and drove to the police station, getting several concerned glances as I wandered in dressed in my pajamas, looking disheveled and wired.
I approached the thin, pockmark skinned officer in the creased uniform, who was slumped over his desk that was littered with files.
“I’ve come to turn myself in,” I said defiantly.
“What for?” he said, in a bored tone.
“I set fire to the bus that killed all those school kids.”
“Haha, no you didn’t,” he said in a vicious tone, “if this is a prank it’s not fucking funny.”
“But I did officer!” I exclaimed.
“Look, get your ass out of here. We know who did it. They’ve been charged,” he snarled, getting up, scraping his chair across the floor and gripping my arm to lead me out.
“But who was it?”
“Check the papers. It will be front page news.” Perplexed, I left the station and drove home. My mom came running out of the door when I parked up.
“Caspian! Thank goodness! I was worried! Come on come inside and let Florian fix you some breakfast.” Why the fuck was my mom so uncharacteristically worried about me lately?
“I don’t want any breakfast mom, I just want to grab a shower,” I said, walking upstairs and turning my back on her. She was up to something; I was sure of it.
“Nevertheless, you shouldn’t be wandering around at night in your pjs barefoot. I will ring Doctor Phelps and get some sleeping tablets for you.”
“OK, whatever,” I said as I reached the top of the stairs.
* * *
Later that day, I went and grabbed the daily paper.
The headline jumped out at me, Jilted Lover Massacres Innocent Children…
According to the article, the bus driver was having an affair and when he ended it, she went psycho and decided to murder him and the bus full of kids.
They found her wandering around, her clothes soaked in vodka and the blood of Miguel the driver.
Man, that was all bullshit. I didn’t know what occult forces were in play to get me off the hook, but I believed that I had killed those kids, well, the weasel had.
But had I just dreamt it? Feeling as always, totally confused and at the brink of mental collapse, I went back home.
* * *
“Your mom gives great head,” Sawyer Pellegrino said, as he lit a cigar.
He was sitting smugly at my dad’s old desk.
He had called me into the office at the top of a glittering glass skyscraper in Hartford.
I hated being in the city. There was too much noise and activity.
I much preferred the leisurely pace of the suburbs and the coast.
“Huh?” I said, feeling appalled.
“She came in a couple of days ago, angling to get me to convince you to sign the company over to her once you hit eighteen,” he said, clearly enjoying the drama of it all the prick.
“Did you tell her about our deal?” I asked, realizing why my mom had been so motherly to me lately, to butter me up.
“No of course not. I thought I‘d give you the honor. Anyway, you just have this last document to sign and then the money can begin the process of being transferred to your bank. What a great birthday gift!” Sawyer chuckled.
I grinned, saccharine like, fighting the urge to let the weasel out to cut the smarmy smile off of his face.
“There’s no way I’d ever sell dad’s company to my mom.
She would never give me a deal like you have; she’d expect it at a discount.
Plus, I would never let her have that sort of success.
My dad left her everything, she’s not having his company too,” I said as I signed my name with a flourish.
I didn’t love either of my parents, but I hated my mom more.
There was no way I was going to let her and Youri turn the sports network into some pompous channel to chatter about “feelings.” Oh well, another reason that when the time came I wouldn’t give a fuck about making my mom pay.
* * *
It was the eve before my birthday, and I got dressed for dinner with my dad, opting for a pair of black jeans and a loose shirt, my blonde hair looking suave after a fresh cut.
He was waiting for me at the restaurant, looking so much healthier than when I last saw him.
He got several glances from people entering, who recognized him from the TV.
He smiled, used to the adulation by now.
He was dressed in a pair of loose black pants and a light blue shirt with the top buttons open.
I could see he’d been sunbathing since his skin had that lovely golden glow.
In spite of it all, I smiled. He was still my dad after all.
“Looking great Caspian,” he beamed as he took me in a bear hug.
The smartly dressed waiter took us to our pod, right at the edge of the bluff.
The view as the sun set was breath-taking.
The ocean was calm and glittered like a precious jewel.
Dad spoiled me and we ordered a magnum of Cristal, lobster, oysters and chateaubriand.
I came clean about selling the company and about how mom wanted to get her claws into it. Surprisingly, my dad wasn’t angry.
“I must admit, I’m a little sad that you won’t be following in my footsteps son.
But my attitude has changed with everything that has happened.
You must make your own life and do what makes you happy.
I’ve made so many mistakes, but you weren’t one of them.
Now I want to be happy for the time I have left.
Sawyer will continue my legacy and I’m happy he is running the network, not your mother.
She’s had enough of my wealth, and I’d be damned if I let that fruitcake she’s with benefit from my success.
” We laughed as the waiter topped up our champagne glasses and I felt more than a little tipsy. Dad lit a cigar and ordered a brandy.
“So, are you looking forward to college?” he asked blowing a smoke ring.
“Yes,” I admitted, “I just want to get away and strike out on my own. I know I’ve done enough to get into Cornell.”
“I’m proud of you son. I know you were skeptical about Angel, but she makes me happy. Life is just simpler with her around.”
The ambient light from the lamps in the pod reflected my face in the glass.
But it didn’t look like me. The eyes were burning and when I smiled, I swore my teeth appeared fang-like.
I looked altogether evil. I turned away quickly and took a big gulp of my drink hearing the learned tune getting louder.
“Do you think you deserve to be happy after what you did to Savannah?” the weasel said.
“Damn it Caspian!” dad said, slamming his fist on the table making the glasses rattle, “I told you never to mention that name to me!”
“Caspian’s not here, it’s just me. Hahaha!” I couldn’t speak; the weasel was in control. He began to sing, and my dad looked fucking terrified and even though I was supposed to be getting revenge for Savannah, seeing my dad look like that made me feel bad.
Your child’s body is mine to host, it won’t be long till slaughter. Savannah’s vengeance will come to pass; pop goes the weasel!!
“Stop! Stop it Caspian!” my dad pleaded as the weasel sang the song over and over.
I fought to regain control of myself, but it was like I was locked in a room in my mind, with no way out, until the weasel allowed me to come out.
But I didn’t give up, I kept trying and my poor body began to convulse.
It fell to its knees and began to vomit, and I could feel myself slipping away, lost and afraid in the darkness.
* * *
I opened my eyes, and I was on the floor of the glass pod, my dad looking worriedly at me. I was me again. And I had a headache.