ONE
LYDIA
December 1989
The imponent thunder caused by lightning disrupts my sleep and my ribcage can barely stop my heart when it bumps against it. The bright light of a second lightening dazzles my eyes and blackspots on my sight are the aftermath. My muscles clench and my eyes squint while my teeth grind against each other anticipating the thunder but there is none. A few seconds later it is back to complete darkness.
As I try to calm my breathing, I turn to see Colt and as I should have suspected he didn’t hear the thunder that almost stopped my heart. His snoring can be louder.
After a few seconds, I hear nothing. Not rain, not wind, just silence. And if I remember correctly, the weather channel didn’t forecast a storm tonight.
What is going on?
With some incredulity, I get off the bed and I bimble dubiously towards the window with my arms crossed. It is a chilly night.
The streetlights are bright enough to see that the pavement is dry. The trees are completely still, and the sky is strangely crystal clear.
I must of be dreaming.
But… wait a second…is that… Raguel?
And wait… who is he talking to?
What the…? What is that silhouette with surrounding dim light near him?
This is bringing back memories of when I gave birth to Raguel. When I was by myself in the hospital room, the room went dark, and all the light flickered so fast it dazzled me. Raguel started to move sort of violently inside my belly and after a while everything stopped and went back to normal. Something is trying to take my son.
Without thinking twice, I rush downstairs, and the stairs seem to elongate forever. The glossy wood floors, that would usually feel cold, melt under my feet. I skip a few steps at a time and hold the star-railing intermittently. I dash towards the front door crashing against it, grabbing, and turning the knob while my whole-body trembles. As soon as it opens, I sprint outside.
“Raguel!” I almost burst my lungs out. “Raguel, where are you?”
No one is out here.
I scan my whole surroundings rapidly and after a few moments I hurry back inside, towards Raguel’s room.
“Raguel!” I say while I try to calm my transient rapid breathing.
He doesn’t wake up, but he is there, sleeping.
What the hell is happening?
A couple years ago, he gave me one of the worst scares of my life when on a Saturday morning, I couldn’t find him for what it seemed and eternity. He went down chasing our Pomeranian dog, Krypto for blocks. At the time he was only four years old. I’m not sure if he was being brave, or just oblivious to the dangers of the street.
Pensive, and with my breathing slowing down I make my way back to bed. And yes, colt is still sleeping.
I’m certain of what I saw. But would it be propitious to tell Colt about it?
To be honest, I’m confident that I know him well enough to anticipate his reaction, however, this is something very abnormal, leaning into the bizarre.
While thinking about the situation, I can’t contain a big yawn and expectedly, my eyes start to weigh more than one thousand pounds.
The Next Morning
The luscious smell of waffles, and the succulent scent of bacon travels through the house permeating the walls and making its way upstairs and under my bedroom’s door to my nostrils. The aroma stimulates my sleeping brain and suggests I open my eyes. It is Saturday morning, and Colt is making breakfast.
I stretch and yawn under my covers and then yank them to the side, I get off the bed and half asleep I make my way to Raguel’s room.
I knock the door twice, “Dear, it’s time to get up, your father is making some waffles for breakfast. Your favorite.” I turn the knob and slowly open the door an inch. “Honey…?”
I amble towards his twin bed and softly sit down next to him. His white nightstand is a landing pad for his helicopter made of Legos.
“Baby,” I whisper, while I caress his face. “Come on, wake up.” Just like his father, he can be a very heavy sleeper.
“Mom…” He says while fighting the snuggles of Morpheus.
“Yes, dear, it is mom. Come on, breakfast is ready. Your father is making your favorite. Can you smell it?” I smile.
He takes a deep breath. “Oh yes,” his eyes widen. “I can smell them.” He yawns. “I need to go potty.”
I chuckle, “Okay, but before you go, may you answer a question for mom?”
“Yes.”
I take a breath. “Last night…do you remember being outside at all?”
“Mm, no mom, I was in my bed the whole night.”
“Are you sure? You wouldn’t lie to mommy, would you?”
“Of course, no, mom. Although…”
“Although, what?”
“I had a weird dream.”
“What kind of dream, dear?”
“Breakfast is almost ready!” Colt interrupts Raguel’s answer.
“We will be down in a second!” I yell back.
“Mom, I gotta go potty.”
“Raguel, do you remember commandment number nine?
“Yes, mom…?”
“And...?”
“Thou shall not bear false witness.”
“And do you remember what that means?”
“Yes mum. It means I shouldn’t lie.”
“Good boy. Remember that God is always watching and knows all. You wouldn’t lie to God, would you?”
“I am not lying, I swear.”
“Lydia, are you coming?” Colt insists.
“Yes, just a second!”
“Mom, I really need to go potty.”
“Ok, ok, to be continued?” I smile.
“Yeah.”
Raguel hurries to the restroom and I walk downstairs towards the kitchen and see Colt flipping some eggs across the kitchen island while Krypto watches him carefully.
“Have I told you how sexy you look putting those culinary skills to practice?”
Colt turns around for a second and smiles.
I throw him a libidinous look.
Then he turns around once more and reciprocates the look. “Yahtzee! Mrs. Cloos, Have I told you how sexy you look with those tiny pink short’s pajama?” He sets the stove’s burner low for a second and walks towards me, grabs me by the waist and kisses me.
Oh, his kisses and the way he touches me have always drove me crazy, and every time he does it, it’s as he is doing it for the first time. It stills manages to give me goosebumps. His kisses always bring me back to the first time I met him. And it always feels as if it was the first time. I was nineteen when I first saw him while walking at the mall with a couple of friends. Two lost looks that found each other produced the perfect chemical mixture to spark the love needed to create what I most desired, my son.
“Dad, what are you doing to mommy? Raguel interrupts us and Krypto barks at us.
Colt stops kissing me, “Good grief. You scared me, Raguel. I am just spreading some love, son.” He looks at me and blows a kiss. Then his attention turns to Krypto. “Hey, stop the barking if you want some foods.”
“Are the waffles ready?” Raguel says.
“They are ready,” Colt replies, messes with Raguel’s hair and he walks towards to stove. “Just need to wait for the eggs and bacon to be done and we are gonna enjoy a delicious breakfast.”
The scent of coffee entices me to grab a cup and pour some in it. And it almost makes me forget about last night.
Raguel wouldn’t lie to me, or us for that matter. He is certain that it was a dream, however, I am not. I know what I saw, and I know I wasn’t asleep.
I’m perturbed by the silhouette. Although, I didn’t feel it to be an evil presence, I can’t just rely on my feelings and instincts. I have seen plenty of horror movies in which the spirit isn’t what it seems or what it says.
And I am still baffled by Colt sleeping through everything.
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