DREAM SMASHERS

Dream Smashers - Chapter Four

Dream Smashers

FOUR

Of all the times in my life I have been scared this is probably one of the top three scariest—that I can remember anyway.

            One of the first scariest times happened when I was seven. Jacinda had told Grams we were going bowling. Instead she left me alone in a dark alley while she met with a guy with long greasy hair and a lightning bolt tattoo on his left temple. 

            The night air still hadn’t cooled from the sweltering summer day. I remember the sharp smell of rotting garbage and urine. She said she would only be a minute. She left me behind a dumpster, counting the seconds until the longest minute of my life would be over. A rat scurried past, whipping its tail against my bare legs. I screamed and then cried when no one came to rescue me. Jacinda had told me to not move an inch, else someone might kidnap me. When the rat disappeared into the darkness, I kept on counting until I fell asleep on the pavement.

            Another scary time had been when my grandpa lay in a hospital bed, dying from lung cancer. Gramps dying didn’t scare me. What scared me happened after he died. Grams sat at his side, holding his hand, while Jacinda paced the floor and mumbled under her breath, anxious. I sat in the far corner to witness his death from as far away as I could. He had been sedated because of the unbearable pain. His yellow skin clung to his bones, exposing his deepest skeletal features. The body that lay there, sleeping with labored breath, hadn’t been Gramps, but the skeleton from science lab, painted yellow.

            His last breath came and went. The entire room grew silent, as if we were waiting for him to breathe again, except he never did. Gramps’ pale blue eyes somehow opened, his mouth fell agape, and his shell stared right at me.

            The quickness of it frightened me the most. One second, Gramps had life, and another second he became nothing, a discarded empty box after a long journey. The box had wrinkles and tears and crumpled corners and writing and scribbles all over it, but no evidence of where it had traveled or what it had seen. The box that once meant and held everything now meant absolutely nothing in the span of a single second.

            And now, this scary time, probably the scariest of them all, I’m about ready to pee myself.

            The man smiles, but it isn’t a friendly smile. Dishonesty lingers on his lips—his eyes reveal a dark heart. He slides the glass door open. The broken floor crackles under his black cowboy boots.

            “Mornin’ gals.” His voice is smooth, rich, like the coffee Grams drinks. “What’re ya’ll doing here?” He scans behind us with equally dark eyes, shifting right to left. “What? You don’t speak?”

            “Sure we do. We’re just hangin’ out. What do you want?” Rainy says, calmer than I have ever seen her. “You’re that guy I’ve seen with my brother. Are you Ace?”

            Figures. Rainy knows everyone. Even the creepy guys.

            Ace smiles. “Yeah. Who’s your brother?”

            Rainy pops her gum. “James. Dude, and what’s up with that dumb knife? Are you playing Rambo or something?”

            I can’t believe she actually just said that.

            Ace glances at the knife in his hand. “Oh!” His laugh exposes a mouth full of gleaming white teeth. At least we know he’s not a tweaker. “I forgot I had this.” He snaps the pocket knife closed, shoving it into the front of his black Levi’s. “No wonder you gals look like you just saw a ghost. Shoot, I’d be pretty scared too if some stranger walked in on me with a knife.