Welcome to another Wednesday and another edition of the Silver Flasher's weekly flash fiction! In last week's episode, there was some seriously weird stuff going on, now this week continues with Sonny and Tim trapped in the house behind the motel - see what's up with that. The prompt which I used was "The difference is that I lie for a reason!" Then visit the other Silver Flashers for their offerings. Thanks for stopping by, I now give you
I open my eyes to a blackness so thick I feel like I’m looking into the eye of a chocolate cupcake. But a moan beside me, and a shooting pain that surges through my body like the most wicked electric current imaginable brings me back to reality, and it all comes rushing back.
The last thing I remember is watching Sonny reach for the bell pull. He yanks on the damn thing while I frantically scream no—to no avail, obviously, as the next thing I know the world opens up beneath our feet and we shoot down, down, down, in what seems like the longest freefall since Alice took a tumble down the rabbit’s hole. And then merciful nothingness, during which time I hallucinate like a mofo – something weird about Frank-N-Furter, Scarlett O’Hara and Laura Palmer. What I imagine a bad acid trip would be like, if I’d ever taken acid.
The truth, as I’m beginning to piece it out, is that we have fallen into the cellar. As my eyes begin to adjust to the dim light, I begin to discern shapes, one of which is Sonny. I pull myself together, and kneel beside him, my hands roaming over his body, trying to assess his condition— vis-à-vis broken bones, blood, or anything else that might require immediate medical attention. I find none of the above, for which I am grateful, as I gingerly fold Sonny into my arms, soothing his tears away.
So now what? Now we gotta get the hell out of here, ‘cause I think we’ve just fallen out of the frying pan and into the fire. I mean seriously, unless the floor of the porch just happened to give way while we were standing there—and I consider that idea highly unlikely—then this was most certainly premeditated on someone’s part. Who, I don’t know as I never saw whoever was on the other side of the door before it was lights out.
I shakily rise to my feet, pulling Sonny with me. We stand there for a moment, clinging together. I am way past tired of this shit, and beginning to wonder if we’ll ever have a normal life again. I’m looking around us, at our environment, calculating the best way out.
“C’mon, baby,” I whisper. My entire body aches, but I suspect it’s most likely a bunch of bruised muscles and tomorrow I’ll feel even worse. Gives me something to look forward to, right? He whimpers but he doesn’t object. I have my arm around his waist, his head is burrowed into my chest, and I’m doing the leading—as usual.
There’s a lot of furniture in this space, we have to maneuver around it. Most of it seems to have covers on it, as if it’s not seen the light of day for many a year. It smells like an old lady’s underwear drawer. If that isn’t creepy….
We stumble over a few of the smaller pieces, hassocks, I think, and chests. I’m trying to make no noise, but it isn’t easy when it’s the blind leading the blind. Suddenly, Sonny screams, pointing to something ahead of us in the darkness, something with a pointed silhouette. “It’s gonna get me!” he wails, “Don’t let it get me, Tim!”
I attempt to calm him, but he’s shaking like a leaf, so I tell him to stay put and I’ll check it out, but that won’t do either. So now he’s clinging to me even tighter, and I’m dragging him against my leg, as I try to sort this out. It’s got a weird shape, like a sinister multi-handed knife wielding maniac, but on closer inspection it turns out to be a mounted deer head, one with a rather large rack.
Both of us collapse onto a nearby sofa, letting the frights pass away. Sonny is sobbing in my arms, and he’s mumbling something into my bosom, while I stroke his hair. I think it’s the moose that’s got him spooked, but then his words come to my ear, a little bit clearer.
“I’m sorry for all the times I lied to you, and all the times I cheated on you, and all the times I was bad to you, Tim-tim.” Anything else he may be attempting to say gets lost in the tears which threaten to choke him. I pat his back, tell him to please calm down. I can’t decide if his ill-timed confession is disturbing on its own merit, or if the location lends a macabre eeriness to the words I’d rather not hear.
“Shhh, shhh,” I soothe him, “don’t worry about it, it’s all in the past. We have the future now. And we’re going to be together forever.” Okay, maybe I don’t know this for sure, and maybe it’s a lie. But there’s a difference between my lies and someone else’s. The difference is that I lie for a reason. A very good reason. To help keep Sonny sane.
He sobs himself out, as I rock him back and forth, and when he’s done, we venture forth again.
I follow what seems to be a logical path of progression, probably the same way the furniture was left here originally. By this method we find ourselves at the base of a flight of stairs. No way to go but up, so let’s do it to it. Slowly and carefully we make our way up the flimsy-feeling wooden stairs. Every creak of the dry-rotted wood makes me wince, thinking we’re about to be discovered and then what? I shudder to think.
We reach the top without incident and I slowly open the door, into the house itself, half expecting a knife-wielding cross-dresser to bear down on us. Or even a crazed detective. Or a busty embezzler. It’s none of the above.
It’s Carlo the kidnapper and his brainless sidekick. Good Lord, I think we’ve gone full circle now.
Sonny takes one look at them and faints dead away into my arms.
Holy COW! this story keeps having so many twists and turns. I gotta remember to buckle my seatbelt.
ReplyDeletecan't wait for next week's
This is what I call doing a Bobby Ewing :)
ReplyDeleteGlad you're enjoying it, it's a rather bumpy ride lol