Boomer: In dreams
Dreams have a funny way of showing us what’s in the deepest parts of our minds and hearts. A feeling had been gnawing at the back of Serendipity’s mind. A feeling that she’d been pushing aside. Dreams would not allow her to push them aside any longer.
She traveled back... it was three years ago. They were in a shitty dive called - of all things - the Drunken Cowboy. It was somewhere in New Mexico. Real far south east. Next to Texas. They were traveling as Jacob Talic and Sandra Morris. It was a night to drink, and drink they did. Sure they were both, at a minimum, an Adept of Life, but sometimes you’ve got to let the poison do its work. Then again, these two Thyrsus firmly believed in enjoying life.
After hours of cheap liquor, cigarettes and the stink of that bar it was time to wander back to the motel room. They’d be moving on soon, but ‘Sandra’ wasn’t thinking about that tonight. She wasn’t nearly as drunk as she claimed to be and though the man she knew as Jacob Talic (or End) had saved her ass from a very long a painful recovery, he was still far too trusting in her. She kind of liked it, which made what she was about to do so much easier.
She’d been contacted by a client who was interested in more information on Mr. Talic. Her source said the Guardians were calling in a favor and they needed to follow up on an altercation somewhere in Texas. She didn’t usually ask for the background, but it was a safety issue that had brought it up. So far he seemed harmless enough. Then again, it’s always the quiet ones.
Something in Serendipity fought the dream then. She realized the inconsistency. At the time, she hadn’t known it was the Guardians. She found that out later. She didn’t know it had been in Texas. She’d gotten that from Jacob later on, too. And it was never the Guardians that wanted him. It was Banishers. Banishers she’d killed.
She had sudden flashes of their corpses. The blood on her hands. The exhaustion she felt as she searched the house. The acrid smell of hair burning. She woke in a cold sweat. Her eyes shot over to the baby. He was fine. Sleeping soundly. She walked over to his crib and picked him up.
On nights that she wasn’t feeling terribly sane it helped to have her son in bed with her. She built him a small fortress of pillows and leaned against one of them stroking his tiny arm. He never stirred. She thanked whoever would listen for her gift. She wasn’t much for Sleeper faiths, but if there was a God she would shake his hand. Her baby made her happy. She had never loved anyone with all her heart before. He was special though. Her thoughts dragged her back down into sleep. Little did she know, her dreams weren’t done with her yet.
She was back in New Mexico. In a feigned drunken stupor Sandra fumbled into the motel room that she and Jacob shared. Two double beds stood against the wall. There was also a small night stand between them with a bible and a pistol in the only drawer. The alarm clock said it was after four in the morning. Jacob wandered to the bathroom and Sandra found her bottle of Grey Goose. She’d replaced it’s original contents with 200 proof moonshine in it. She pulled off her boots, her jean shorts and her over shirt leaving her in nothing but a thin white tank top and her underwear. She lay down enticingly on Jacob’s bed and waited. The toilet flushed and she put up life sight. As he wandered out she realized his blood alcohol level wasn’t nearly as high as it needed to be. She reached her arm up and handed him the bottle.
“Drink!” She commanded.
He took the bottle and obliged. As she’d hoped he couldn’t tell anymore that it wasn’t Grey Goose. Hopefully he’d drink it like it was. He took a deep and swig handed the bottle back seconds before landing on the bed next to her. With effort he was able to pull his boots off and pull his feet on the bed behind him.
They drank for some time longer. It was nearly five before Sandra was ready to make her move. They’d already killed the majority of the bottle, or at least Jacob had, and wrestled around the bed. Jacob tossed his feet off the end of the bed.
“Need to piss.” He slurred and planted his feet on the floor. He managed to stay upright for seven full uninterrupted seconds before landing flat on his face. “I was wrong. I don’t need to piss. I need to lie on the carpet.” He corrected.
Sandra shambled over to him. This was her chance. She pulled him upright and tried to place him on the bed. She had his back to the side of the bed and was trying to get him to lie down on it correctly when she swept her foot out and they both tumbled onto the bed in a heap. She lay on top of him, their legs intertwined. She stared into his unfocusing eyes for a heartbeat and leaned in.
A chaste kiss passed between them and Sandra waited for him to react. To say no. To pull away. He did not. She leaned in a second time and he rose to meet her mouth. The kiss grew as they explored each other. They romped around the bed, but End would not initiate anything else.
Sandra took matters into her own hands. She started with his shirt and peeled it away from his body. She reached for his belt and wondered if he would pause. If he’d make her stop. He didn’t. She took his pants from him too and they continued their desperate affair as though the person in front of them were last person on earth they’d be allowed to touch.
The night gave way to morning. The dark gave way to light. That was the cycle. That was the way of life. Jacob had fallen asleep in her arms. She snuck out of the bed and took all this clothing into the bathroom. She dumped them on the floor, bathed quickly, and soaked his clothes in cold water and left them in the tub. Then changed and went to sleep. She’d make the call later. When Jacob finally awoke he seemed not to remember anything.
When asked why he was in nothing the next morning Sandra made a joke about him almost vomiting on himself. She’d chucked him in the shower and run the water on him for a while until he stopped dry heaving. His clothes were still in the tub. They were on the road again in a few short hours and when they pulled over at the first rest stop Sandra wandered off to make the call.
She dialed a number she knew by heart and waited for the machine to pick up. “Zane, I’ve got sympathetic connection. I’m still working on the information you need, but now he can’t disappear for a while. You know how to contact me if you need to. I’ll call you again in a couple of weeks.” She hung up. She never did make that second call. She never called that number back again. She would eventually change her mind. A short while later she also learned that she was pregnant and that the father was not such a bad person. It was the first time in seven years she’d checked out of a job for personal reasons.
She’d just turned back to the car when the phone behind her started ringing. She looked back at it. This wasn’t right. The phone had never rung. She had walked away and never looked back. The ringing was persistent. She picked up the phone but it continued to ring.
Serendipity stirred. He eyes fluttered open. Her cell phone was sitting on the bed next to her. She picked it up. It was a wrong number. She got a lot of those with her 800 number. Her head fell back on her pillow. It was morning out. Seven thirty. The baby probably wouldn’t wake for a while longer.
She thought about her dreams. About the night she’d conceived her baby. She thought about the lovemaking. Relived it again in vivid detail. Why now? Why had he resurfaced? What did he really know about the baby or her for that matter? Could she tell him? She didn’t know. What was bugging her the most was seeing his face every day. Living in the same house like college roommates. Two strangers put in the same place and trying to make the best of it. She realized something else. Something she hadn’t been able to put her finger on until just then. He had become so cold. No, not cold, detached from everyone and everything. Maybe she’d have to take matters into her own hands again. God knew she wasn’t ready. All she knew for certain was at that moment she felt very frustrated and the best thing for frustration was to beat the hell out of something. She wondered if End was awake. She wanted to kick the shit out of him.
She traveled back... it was three years ago. They were in a shitty dive called - of all things - the Drunken Cowboy. It was somewhere in New Mexico. Real far south east. Next to Texas. They were traveling as Jacob Talic and Sandra Morris. It was a night to drink, and drink they did. Sure they were both, at a minimum, an Adept of Life, but sometimes you’ve got to let the poison do its work. Then again, these two Thyrsus firmly believed in enjoying life.
After hours of cheap liquor, cigarettes and the stink of that bar it was time to wander back to the motel room. They’d be moving on soon, but ‘Sandra’ wasn’t thinking about that tonight. She wasn’t nearly as drunk as she claimed to be and though the man she knew as Jacob Talic (or End) had saved her ass from a very long a painful recovery, he was still far too trusting in her. She kind of liked it, which made what she was about to do so much easier.
She’d been contacted by a client who was interested in more information on Mr. Talic. Her source said the Guardians were calling in a favor and they needed to follow up on an altercation somewhere in Texas. She didn’t usually ask for the background, but it was a safety issue that had brought it up. So far he seemed harmless enough. Then again, it’s always the quiet ones.
Something in Serendipity fought the dream then. She realized the inconsistency. At the time, she hadn’t known it was the Guardians. She found that out later. She didn’t know it had been in Texas. She’d gotten that from Jacob later on, too. And it was never the Guardians that wanted him. It was Banishers. Banishers she’d killed.
She had sudden flashes of their corpses. The blood on her hands. The exhaustion she felt as she searched the house. The acrid smell of hair burning. She woke in a cold sweat. Her eyes shot over to the baby. He was fine. Sleeping soundly. She walked over to his crib and picked him up.
On nights that she wasn’t feeling terribly sane it helped to have her son in bed with her. She built him a small fortress of pillows and leaned against one of them stroking his tiny arm. He never stirred. She thanked whoever would listen for her gift. She wasn’t much for Sleeper faiths, but if there was a God she would shake his hand. Her baby made her happy. She had never loved anyone with all her heart before. He was special though. Her thoughts dragged her back down into sleep. Little did she know, her dreams weren’t done with her yet.
She was back in New Mexico. In a feigned drunken stupor Sandra fumbled into the motel room that she and Jacob shared. Two double beds stood against the wall. There was also a small night stand between them with a bible and a pistol in the only drawer. The alarm clock said it was after four in the morning. Jacob wandered to the bathroom and Sandra found her bottle of Grey Goose. She’d replaced it’s original contents with 200 proof moonshine in it. She pulled off her boots, her jean shorts and her over shirt leaving her in nothing but a thin white tank top and her underwear. She lay down enticingly on Jacob’s bed and waited. The toilet flushed and she put up life sight. As he wandered out she realized his blood alcohol level wasn’t nearly as high as it needed to be. She reached her arm up and handed him the bottle.
“Drink!” She commanded.
He took the bottle and obliged. As she’d hoped he couldn’t tell anymore that it wasn’t Grey Goose. Hopefully he’d drink it like it was. He took a deep and swig handed the bottle back seconds before landing on the bed next to her. With effort he was able to pull his boots off and pull his feet on the bed behind him.
They drank for some time longer. It was nearly five before Sandra was ready to make her move. They’d already killed the majority of the bottle, or at least Jacob had, and wrestled around the bed. Jacob tossed his feet off the end of the bed.
“Need to piss.” He slurred and planted his feet on the floor. He managed to stay upright for seven full uninterrupted seconds before landing flat on his face. “I was wrong. I don’t need to piss. I need to lie on the carpet.” He corrected.
Sandra shambled over to him. This was her chance. She pulled him upright and tried to place him on the bed. She had his back to the side of the bed and was trying to get him to lie down on it correctly when she swept her foot out and they both tumbled onto the bed in a heap. She lay on top of him, their legs intertwined. She stared into his unfocusing eyes for a heartbeat and leaned in.
A chaste kiss passed between them and Sandra waited for him to react. To say no. To pull away. He did not. She leaned in a second time and he rose to meet her mouth. The kiss grew as they explored each other. They romped around the bed, but End would not initiate anything else.
Sandra took matters into her own hands. She started with his shirt and peeled it away from his body. She reached for his belt and wondered if he would pause. If he’d make her stop. He didn’t. She took his pants from him too and they continued their desperate affair as though the person in front of them were last person on earth they’d be allowed to touch.
The night gave way to morning. The dark gave way to light. That was the cycle. That was the way of life. Jacob had fallen asleep in her arms. She snuck out of the bed and took all this clothing into the bathroom. She dumped them on the floor, bathed quickly, and soaked his clothes in cold water and left them in the tub. Then changed and went to sleep. She’d make the call later. When Jacob finally awoke he seemed not to remember anything.
When asked why he was in nothing the next morning Sandra made a joke about him almost vomiting on himself. She’d chucked him in the shower and run the water on him for a while until he stopped dry heaving. His clothes were still in the tub. They were on the road again in a few short hours and when they pulled over at the first rest stop Sandra wandered off to make the call.
She dialed a number she knew by heart and waited for the machine to pick up. “Zane, I’ve got sympathetic connection. I’m still working on the information you need, but now he can’t disappear for a while. You know how to contact me if you need to. I’ll call you again in a couple of weeks.” She hung up. She never did make that second call. She never called that number back again. She would eventually change her mind. A short while later she also learned that she was pregnant and that the father was not such a bad person. It was the first time in seven years she’d checked out of a job for personal reasons.
She’d just turned back to the car when the phone behind her started ringing. She looked back at it. This wasn’t right. The phone had never rung. She had walked away and never looked back. The ringing was persistent. She picked up the phone but it continued to ring.
Serendipity stirred. He eyes fluttered open. Her cell phone was sitting on the bed next to her. She picked it up. It was a wrong number. She got a lot of those with her 800 number. Her head fell back on her pillow. It was morning out. Seven thirty. The baby probably wouldn’t wake for a while longer.
She thought about her dreams. About the night she’d conceived her baby. She thought about the lovemaking. Relived it again in vivid detail. Why now? Why had he resurfaced? What did he really know about the baby or her for that matter? Could she tell him? She didn’t know. What was bugging her the most was seeing his face every day. Living in the same house like college roommates. Two strangers put in the same place and trying to make the best of it. She realized something else. Something she hadn’t been able to put her finger on until just then. He had become so cold. No, not cold, detached from everyone and everything. Maybe she’d have to take matters into her own hands again. God knew she wasn’t ready. All she knew for certain was at that moment she felt very frustrated and the best thing for frustration was to beat the hell out of something. She wondered if End was awake. She wanted to kick the shit out of him.