Karen paid for her selections as they talked and continued to move outside the store. Phil followed close by.
“Sounds like you’re doing okay," she said. She couldn't imagine what it would be like to own two houses.
“Well, I work hard and play hard. What’s the point of success if you don’t enjoy it?" He winked again.
“And your wife; does she like living in both ends of the country?”
“Sure. We both have our own ideas about enjoying life.”
“How does she like all the traveling and not being together?” She wished she hadn’t asked that question. The conversation was going in a uncomfortable direction for her.
“Oh, Sheila has her fun too. What about your husband, Karen, what does he do? Does he keep a tight rein on his beautiful wife?"
The wink was becoming tiring, irritating, to her. Having completed checkout, they now stood just outside the store entrance.
“Stan works hard— computers; and we have a great marriage. And we have a wonderful little girl, Jenny. We live not far from here.”
“But does he ever let you out to play?" She felt intruded upon. She didn’t invite this direction of the conversation and she didn’t know whether to ignore the question or just turn and walk away. She reluctantly opted for the former.
“What brings you to town?" she asked in a polite disinterested tone.
“We’re looking at opening a store in this center. I might be in this area fairly often if we do." The innuendo and smile were still there but at least there was no wink this time.
“Oh, I see. Well listen Phil, I really need to be going. It was nice to see you again." It was a half-truth.
“Well it’s been great seeing you too Karen. God, just look at you! You are really hot. And it needn’t be so long next time. Here, take my card. It's my private number. Call me sometime. Anytime. Day or night." The wink returned. His intent was completely unmasked.
As Karen fastened her seat-belt, she saw Phil speed past in a expensive sports car. She looked at herself in her rear view mirror. Call me sometime? Hot? she thought. She brushed her hair with her fingers and studied her eyes. She hadn't liked his unwelcome advance, but something about the encounter and being made to feel attractive was uplifting to her. She looked at his business card briefly, then shoved it above her visor.
Chapter 5
On Easter Sunday, the Bronskys walked to the West Brook Christian Church. Jenny was dressed in her new outfit and carried her stuffed bunny. Karen wore a light blue dress with three-quarter sleeves and Stan wore a beige suit. His tie matched the color of Karen‘s dress.
Birds sang as if welcoming the warm spring sunshine. It was unusually warm for an Easter. Here and there Daffodils and Jonquils strained their budding flowers toward the morning sun.
Soon the church was filled and a couple of hymns were sung by a small choir. Pastor Weecham stepped to the lectern and cleared his throat.
“Good morning and welcome to our Easter program,” he began. “Who is Jesus Christ?" the elderly pastor asked. Then he smiled and repeated the question a bit louder. “Who is Jesus Christ? That is one of the most important questions that anyone has ever asked, or ever will ask. The answer that each and every one of us gives to that question, will determine where we spend eternity."
He paused to allow the significance of his statement to penetrate the minds of his audience.
“Who is Jesus Christ? Friends, if you’ve never come to grips with that question, I pray that you will do so today because eternity is a long, long time.
“Jesus once asked a question to some of his closest followers, ‘Who do the people say that I am?' His disciples gave him various opinions that their contemporaries held. Some thought he was a prophet. Others thought he was a resurrected John The Baptist. Then Jesus asked, 'And who do you say that I am?’ Peter replied, ‘You are the anointed son of the living God.’ Jesus said to him, ‘Peter, you’re blessed because God has revealed that to you’.
“Now, what did Peter mean when he said that Jesus was ‘the anointed’?
“Well, at one time, the Jewish people were a majestic nation. They were great in wealth and in military power. More than that, they were a nation of people selected by almighty God to be his priestly representatives to the whole world. Alone, they were given the very words of God to carry with them. But because of their disobedience, God allowed them to become a captive nation. First they were captive to Babylon, and then a few centuries later, captive to Rome. But Jewish people of Peter’s time eagerly expected a man to rise up from among the captive nation, who would restore their nation to independence and to it‘s once magnificent status. This man, often referred to as the Anointed One or Messiah was promised by God. Jewish prophets predicted the arrival of the Messiah, hundreds of years before Jesus was born.
“This brief conversation between Jesus and his closest followers can be found in the sixteenth chapter of the book of Matthew in our Bibles. It tells us several important things. First, it tells us that Jesus knew exactly who he was; that he was indeed the promised Messiah, which means, the Anointed. The Greek word for Messiah is Christos, from which we get the English word Christ. Christ is not Jesus’ last name as some people seem to think. Christ is who Jesus is— the anointed son of the living God. And this conversation tells us that God somehow revealed that fact to Peter.”
The pastor cleared his throat and sipped from a glass of water.
“Jesus then keynoted the conversation with his disciples by telling Peter and the others, that he, Jesus, would soon die on the cross and would be resurrected three days later. His sacrificial death would be to atone for all sin. It would allow a restored relationship between humans and God.
“Many of the Jews of his time rejected Jesus because they expected an earthly king, not a humble savior, who would allow himself to be nailed to a cross for their sins. In short, they were looking for the wrong kind of Messiah. There is still much debate in the world, about who Jesus was and is. Many people fail to believe the truth today, just as his fellow Jews did when they demanded his crucifixion.
“The people who saw Jesus in person were eye witnesses of many miracles that he did, including the healing of many from diseases and birth defects. Many even saw Jesus resurrect a dead man named Lazarus shortly before he was crucified. Can you imagine seeing someone, who had been dead for three days, resurrected to life? So, the Jews knew that Jesus was someone very much out of the ordinary. And some wanted to make him king of Israel. Yet, some still rejected him because he was not what they expected or wanted in a Messiah. And that‘s true of a lot of people today.”
Pastor Weecham continued to explain that Jesus did many miracles in order to prove his identity, and that today, while we are no longer eye witnesses to Jesus and his miracles, we have the external witness of the Bible and the internal witness of the Holy Spirit, to lead us to the truth about Jesus. Then he stated several proofs of Jesus’ historic life and resurrection, including the willingness of many of his followers to be martyred rather than deny their belief in Jesus.
The pastor continued, “God has promised, that if we truly seek him, we will find him, and that he stands at the door of our heart and knocks. That means, that if you have never believed in Jesus for your salvation, then God is challenging you right now, to open yourself to his love and mercy. He wants to reveal truth to you, and establish a relationship with you. I urge you to entrust your life to Jesus. If you want to do that, I‘d like to talk to you about your decision.”
The pastor gently closed his Bible and stepped away from the lectern.
The choir sung a hymn, He Lives, then the congregation filed quietly out of the old church.
Stan and Karen walked to their home in silence and reflective thought. Jenny was half asleep in Stan’s arms, with her head resting on his shoulder. In the distance, through sleepy eyes, she saw a torn kite in the top of a tall tree. I
t bore the tattered image of a Dalmatian.
*****
“Eeeeeee!" Jenny’s scream pierced the night stillness.
The scream found Karen’s ears. Her eyes popped open. She shook her head, trying to clear her groggy mind. Her head felt like someone must have hit her with a baseball bat. In spite of intense pain, she managed to focus on her little girl's frantic scream.
“Noooohh! Mummieeeee!"
Karen struggled to free her hands. They felt like they were bound so tightly, that she couldn’t move even a finger. Any attempt to move her hands brought searing pain to the flesh of her wrists. Her senses told her that something was wound equally tightly around her upper body and head so that she couldn't turn it. She could only look straight ahead, at her bed, in the opposite direction of the bedroom door. She felt completely immobilized. She couldn’t be sure, but it seemed that she was sitting on her ladder-back chair. She felt so tightly laced to the chair that it was like a integral part of her struggling torso.
“Mmmmm! Mmmmmh! Karen tried hopelessly to scream but the words could not escape her mouth. Her eyes darted furtively. She tried to jerk her head in a sharp painful twist so that she could look toward the hallway that led to Jenny’s room.
“Mummieeeee! Mummieeeee!"
Karen’s feet would not budge. They seemed to be bound to the legs of the chair. She desperately wanted to turn her head or twist her body enough to see out of her bedroom door and down the hallway in the direction of her screaming child. Karen was beyond hysterical. Tears flooded her eyes and streamed down her cheeks. She could feel mucus bubble uncontrollably from her nose.
God help me! Help Jenny! How can you let this happen!
She began to rock herself as violently as she could using every muscle of her body. Suddenly her rocking caused the floor to slide beneath her and the ceiling to spin sickeningly above. She felt the back of her head slam against the floor and everything began to turn black as her eyes desperately sought a last fading look at the doorway toward Jenny‘s room.
Karen felt strong arms yank her straight up and then sharply backwards. She strained her eyes upward, looking beyond her brow, trying to see the face of her captor. She saw only a stubby beard and the bill of a baseball cap above the face. Through her frantic tear filled eyes she saw a sinister hand just before it smashed into her face. She felt it crush her lips against her teeth. She felt warm blood ooze onto her chin from beneath the grip and tasted blood as it trickled down into her throat. The taste of blood and saliva caused her to gag and choke.
She heard a voice shouting, “You can‘t save her! You‘ll die if you even try!”
Time seemed to stand still. Then Karen heard footsteps move away. It sounded like the noise of heavy shoes stumping on hardwood flooring.
He’s going toward the kitchen. Maybe he's leaving.
Then she heard cabinet doors and drawers being jerked open and banged shut. She heard the unmistakable clanging of kitchen utensils.
Oh God, no! He’s after a knife! The footsteps were returning. He’s got a knife! This time the footsteps were less hurried, more deliberate. She felt a hand press against her mouth.
Stan! Oh God, Stan where are you! She strained her jaw muscles with all her might to free her mouth from the constraining hand so that she could scream. Her entire body writhed and twisted. The skin of her wrists felt on fire from her struggle against their bonds. Through the corner of her eye she saw a glint of light flash. It looked to be the shiny blade of a large knife.
“Mmmmmm!" Karen shrieked a muffled scream through restrained lips and nose.
“Shh, shh." Stan admonished and comforted, as he gently but firmly covered her mouth with his quieting hand. “Ouch! Ouch! Ouch!” he stammered, as he struggled to pry his fingers from her teeth. “Shh, Kare. You’re having a nightmare!" he said louder. “It’s just a dream. Shhh!"
Karen bolted upright.
“Jenny? Jenny?” she gasped.
“Jenny’s okay Kare. I don’t think you woke her. Wow! You must have had a real nail biter. And a finger biter too." He flipped his stinging finger in the air.
“Oh Stan! God, that was awful. I’ve got to go check on Jenny." Karen hurried from bed to Jenny’s room. After a few minutes, she trudged back to bed perplexed and exhausted. She sat down fatigued on the edge of the bed.
“You okay now?" Stan asked. He gently wrapped his arm around her shoulder.
“I guess so." She shook her head. “But, Stan it was so real! So real." She ran her fingers over her quivering lower lip and carefully checked for blood. She examined her wrists for rope burns and felt for a bump on her head.
“What happened? What on earth did you dream?" he asked, gently stroking her back.
They both slowly laid back down on their pillows facing each other.
“Stan, I think it was more than just a dream. I’ve never had a dream that was so real. Maybe it was a premonition or something. Do you believe in things like that?”
“I guess anything’s possible. But it was probably just a silly nightmare." Stan yawned and adjusted his pillow. “Anyhow," he yawned again, “what was it about?”
Karen began to recount what she had experienced until she noticed with disappointment, that Stan’s eyes were closed and his breathing was slow and steady. Going back to sleep any time soon was impossible for her. She got up and checked Jenny again. When she laid back down, she continued to replay the experience in her mind.
*****
Stan glanced out of his bedroom window at a clear morning sky, before dressing for work at CTC.
Century Twenty-one Cybernetics, a leading information technology company recently moved into a new bronze and glass building in the rapidly developing Hudson Parke area thirty miles southwest of the city. It was only a twenty minute drive from their new home to work. He looked forward to the short commute this morning. He had been working long hours lately and this morning he planned to ask his manager for a few days off.
A pleasant April morning was developing. The rising sun was producing a pink glow on a few puffs of clouds in the eastern sky. Stan listened to the morning news on his car radio. He lowered his window and then touched an overhead button that opened the sun-roof. He wanted to savor the fresh fragrances of spring flowers and trees. Flowering shrubs decorated the median islands of Parke Drive with billows of reds, pinks, yellows, and white. The sounds of song birds mingled with the hum of traffic and the chatter from his radio.
Suddenly, a jarring stab of pain exploded up through the back of Stan’s head. His right hand jerked from the sun-roof control to his head. His left hand followed. The pain seemed to reverberate for a second and then moved deeper into his head where it would later leave diminishing aftershocks of pain.
"Christ almighty!" he yelled and continued to groan through clinched teeth and grimaced lips. His pulse leaped into high gear. His breathing hesitated for several seconds. Then he took short rapid breaths of air.
The blaring sound of another car’s horn pierced the air. His hands and feet struggled to regain control of his car which had drifted left into the adjacent traffic lane. A driver’s warning horn was immediately followed by an menacing hand gesture and loud expletives as he swerved to miss Stan's car by mere inches. The offended driver sped past Stan still yelling and waving a menacing fist.
A few minutes later, Stan eased his car into a parking space in the CTC parking lot. He slumped forward cupping his face in his hands. His hands still trembled and he felt cool clammy sweat on his forehead.
What the devil was that? How long did it last? Was it Minutes? Seconds? he wondered. Stan had lost track of time. He tried to remember where he was when the pain struck? He remembered passing the shopping center, the restaurant, and Dover Lane.
Gradually his breathing and pulse returned to near normal. He suddenly became self conscious and realized that another employee might be watching h
im. He glanced anxiously around the parking lot. No one else was in sight. "Thank God." he whispered, allowing his head to sag again.
His right thumb and index finger unconsciously pressed against his eyelids, massaging his eyes with soothing circular motion. Then, he became aware of his actions and jerked his hand away. He raised his head quickly to survey the parking lot again. He took a deep breath and brought his shoulders back, trying to appear normal.
Take a deep breath, he silently commanded himself. Hold it. Ease it out slow. Color began to return to his face.
He recalled other recent pain attacks. This was worse than the one two weeks ago.
That episode happened while he was taking out the garbage. And that one was worse than the one two months ago. That one happened while he was watching a game on television. Now, this one occurred while he was driving.
There’s no pattern. This could have been really bad. Suppose, I had hit the other car head on. He thought of Jenny; imagined she and Karen learning of his death in a car wreck. Then he thought of them being in the car with him in a head-on collision. He realized that he had to find out what was causing the attacks. He had concluded the last couple of times, that it was just the stress of his work on the Compton project. Now he wasn't so sure. He hadn't felt pain this bad since the explosion, when he was in the army.
"Morning, Stan. You going to sit there and daydream all day?" Bob Steen inquired as he passed by Stan's car.
Stan hadn't noticed that his manager had just parked his car nearby. Bob was already, with briefcase in hand, out of his car and turning in the direction of the CTC building entrance.
"Morning Bob," Stan responded, as he closed the sun-roof.
He tried to appear normal. He felt a warm flush replace the clammy coolness on his forehead. His knees felt weak as he swung out of the car and hurried to overtake his boss.
"Say Bob, I should have the final software for the Compton project finished by the end of the week. If you don't mind, I think I'll take a few days of vacation and do some relaxing, maybe a little spring fishing." Stan sought some sign of approval from Bob Steen‘s face. He still felt shaky. His throat felt dry. He hoped that his manager didn't detect the tremble he felt in his voice.