Page 8 of Gator's Gambit
FANCY
The hall is long, and I can’t seem to make my feet move. I need to get away, but it’s like I’m trying to run through a pool of molasses. The sound of breathing is getting louder, and fear becomes an acrid taste in my mouth as I realize there’s no escaping. Whoever is chasing me will find me helpless in this spot. My heart beats harder, panic like a straitjacket, constricting my breathing.
Work, dammit, work, I silently shout at my feet. Nothing, nada, zip. No forward motion. Just stuck in place, praying for a miracle. And then it’s too late. I turn, and a scream is ripped from me as a hand materializes out of thin air to grab my arm. A maniacal laugh rings out, causing the hairs on the back of my neck to stand up.
“Time’s up. There’s nowhere to run,” an eerily familiar voice says. “You’ll pay for what you did.”
I can feel a hand shaking my arm as I come awake, the realization hitting that it’s all been nothing more than a terrifying nightmare.
“Sweetheart, wake up. You’re having a bad dream.”
“I’m awake, Mama. I’m awake.” I sit up so she can see I am, indeed, awake. Getting a good look at her face, my heartsqueezes with guilt. I can see how worried she is. Her face is pale beneath the makeup she has applied every day of my life. I’ve rarely seen her without it.
“Goodness, you gave Daddy and me quite the scare. Are you all right?”
No, not in the slightest, but I can’t tell Mama that without freaking her out further. “Yes, Mama, I’m okay. As you said, just a bad dream.”
“Why don’t you go splash some cold water on your face, while I go make you a cup of tea?”
“Thanks, Mama. I’ll be right there,” I reply, nodding in response to her suggestion.
I take my time, trying to restore my equilibrium before facing my parents. But I feel no better as I enter the kitchen.
“There’s my girl,” Daddy greets me with a smile. “Good morning, Pickle.”
“Morning, Daddy, Mama.”
Mama puts a steaming cup of tea down on the table as I take a seat. She bustles around the room making breakfast, and we make small talk all the while ignoring the elephant in the room. I’m not ready to tell them what happened back in San Francisco or the fact that I’m convinced I’m losing my mind. So, for now, we speak about unimportant things.
My stomach rolls at the sight of my loaded plate, but I make a valiant attempt to eat since Mama’s made my favorite – buttermilk pancakes with maple syrup and bacon. Thankfully, my cellphone offers me a distraction when it alerts me to a received message. Glancing down, I see the message is from an unknown number, and everything in me tightens with fear.
Putting my knife and fork down, I take a deep breath before opening the message and am pleasantly surprised, not to mention relieved, to find it’s from Godric.
Godric: Good morning. This is Godric. Hope you don’t mind I got your number from Em. I have some errands I need to run today and was wondering if you’d like to ride along.
Me: Morning. Depends on what time. I have a dr.’s appointment at 9.30. But I’m free after that, if that works for you?
Godric: Yep, that works. Let me know when you’re back home, and I’ll swing by to pick you up.
Me: Ok, great. Will do. Later.
Godric: Later.
Setting my phone aside, I continue to eat my breakfast. “That was Godric. He’s got some errands to run and is looking for company, so he’ll come pick me up after my doctor’s appointment.”
“Give the boy my best,” Daddy replies.
“He’s grown into such a lovely young man. A man his mama can be proud of, and had his Daddy lived, I’m sure he would be too,” Mama says.
My mouth full of food, I simply nod since there’s not much to add to her sentiments. When we’re done eating, mine only half eaten, Daddy says his goodbyes and heads out to work. I excuse myself to get ready for my appointment.
Memories of Godric play in my mind like a movie, seeing the progression of him changing from a boy to a man. The memories become spotty after high school when he left for the Navy. Visits home were sporadic, and once I moved to San Francisco I never got to see him.
He was such an integral part of my life growing up, yet I don’t think he knew just how important he was to me. I’ve loved him for so many years, but I’ve learned to accept the fact that I’ll never be more than his younger sister’s best friend. And it’s a secret I’ll go to my grave with. I’ve never confessed my love for Godric to anyone other than myself.
I’m just grateful we live far enough apart that I don’t have to watch him find the love of his life, get married, and have children with them. That, I think, would shatter my heart into a million pieces.
Thankfully, the doctor’s visit goes well and is over quickly. He reminds me of the usual drill – keep the wounds clean, change the dressings regularly, blah, blah, blah. I’ve been doing this long enough to know, thank you very much, good sir. I simply smile and thank him before leaving his rooms.
