The Big Show: Climbing Mountains
You can learn more from climbing the same mountain one hundred times than climbing one hundred different mountains.
Sitting at her kitchen table, Murphy played with the label of her beer, peeling off the corner as she went. She couldn’t sleep, which wasn’t uncommon for her these days. She could take one of the pills Dr. Hendricks had prescribed, but she needed to think. There was too much going on in her head, a lot of conflicting emotions bouncing around and she just needed some time to think. She leaned back in her chair, putting her feet up on the corner of the table.
Her dad was alive. Not a completely startling revelation, except he had died too. She wasn’t a doctor, sure, but she had been giving him CPR when her dad died. She had felt his heart stop, felt him stop breathing and felt him… leave. She reached up and wiped at her eyes, thinking about it was still hard. Her dad had died and then he had come back without a defibrillator, without a medical team. It had been her, Harry, and Munzer in that restaurant and Harry had been the one to bring her pop back.
She took a long drink of her beer, set it on the table and stared at the ceiling. She had seen a lot of weird things working with Harry. There was that guy who jumped out the window who vanished, the writing in the air that had fallen through her fingers like sand, and his uncle’s strange death. He’d told her about black magic so many times. She’d never believed him. Magic didn’t work, magic wasn’t real. Except, her father was alive, Harry had led her to that apartment and she’d seen all these things. How could her dad come back?
Oh, the doctor’s had their explanations, something about a half-heart attack. Her father hadn’t really been dead, he’d been unconscious. Except she knew, she knew he had died. She didn’t cry over unconscious. Her dad had died and then he had come back. Harry brought him back with that branding iron of Munzer’s. Murphy sat forward and put her head in her hands, staring now at her kitchen floor. Could she really believe in… magic?
What if she did? What if it was all real and all these years, all the things Harry had told her really, actually existed? How did she deal with that? There were days when she couldn’t even deal with the world she was in right now. If she actually started to believe, if she accepted Harry’s world, how much would she have to change to deal with it? She growled in frustrated and got up with an angry shove at the table. She started to pace because it was hard as hell to face this. For the first time since she was a kid, she could believe. If she could face that, she could believe it. She didn’t want to. She really didn’t want to look deeper into the shadows and have something staring back at her…
…but she wanted answers. She needed answers on what happened to her and what happened to her dad. She needed to know what she was up against so she could stop it. She had to protect people from it, especially the people she loved. God, if something… weird… got her daughter, she could never forgive herself, but could she believe? She couldn’t even believe in God, how was she supposed to believe in magic?
She didn’t know, she didn’t have an answer, but she needed one and needed a reason to believe.
Sitting at her kitchen table, Murphy played with the label of her beer, peeling off the corner as she went. She couldn’t sleep, which wasn’t uncommon for her these days. She could take one of the pills Dr. Hendricks had prescribed, but she needed to think. There was too much going on in her head, a lot of conflicting emotions bouncing around and she just needed some time to think. She leaned back in her chair, putting her feet up on the corner of the table.
Her dad was alive. Not a completely startling revelation, except he had died too. She wasn’t a doctor, sure, but she had been giving him CPR when her dad died. She had felt his heart stop, felt him stop breathing and felt him… leave. She reached up and wiped at her eyes, thinking about it was still hard. Her dad had died and then he had come back without a defibrillator, without a medical team. It had been her, Harry, and Munzer in that restaurant and Harry had been the one to bring her pop back.
She took a long drink of her beer, set it on the table and stared at the ceiling. She had seen a lot of weird things working with Harry. There was that guy who jumped out the window who vanished, the writing in the air that had fallen through her fingers like sand, and his uncle’s strange death. He’d told her about black magic so many times. She’d never believed him. Magic didn’t work, magic wasn’t real. Except, her father was alive, Harry had led her to that apartment and she’d seen all these things. How could her dad come back?
Oh, the doctor’s had their explanations, something about a half-heart attack. Her father hadn’t really been dead, he’d been unconscious. Except she knew, she knew he had died. She didn’t cry over unconscious. Her dad had died and then he had come back. Harry brought him back with that branding iron of Munzer’s. Murphy sat forward and put her head in her hands, staring now at her kitchen floor. Could she really believe in… magic?
What if she did? What if it was all real and all these years, all the things Harry had told her really, actually existed? How did she deal with that? There were days when she couldn’t even deal with the world she was in right now. If she actually started to believe, if she accepted Harry’s world, how much would she have to change to deal with it? She growled in frustrated and got up with an angry shove at the table. She started to pace because it was hard as hell to face this. For the first time since she was a kid, she could believe. If she could face that, she could believe it. She didn’t want to. She really didn’t want to look deeper into the shadows and have something staring back at her…
…but she wanted answers. She needed answers on what happened to her and what happened to her dad. She needed to know what she was up against so she could stop it. She had to protect people from it, especially the people she loved. God, if something… weird… got her daughter, she could never forgive herself, but could she believe? She couldn’t even believe in God, how was she supposed to believe in magic?
She didn’t know, she didn’t have an answer, but she needed one and needed a reason to believe.