Griffin Holmes Story: Future

     Author's Note: I began this story knowing that I wanted to have a character discover that his death would be coming. I believe someone said "sounds generic" in class when I gave a basic summary. That was immediately concerning, so I worked hard to try and make a unique story with what I had committed to. Once I got rolling with the story, things began to fall together. I'm quite proud of the family dynamics that came out of this piece. I'm not quite sure how everyone else will feel about it, but I'm most proud of that. The struggle is real, and the choices this man is left with I think will hit a string with some people if I'm lucky. My biggest issue and overall weakness when it comes to writing in general is creating the backdrop. The world is not nearly descriptive as I think I would have liked it to be. That's where I'm hoping my classmates will give me some pointers. 

A small meteor hit, engraving me deeper into the depths of whatever it was I was laying on.

            “Bam! I’m a meteor!” the little meteor said, knocking the breath out of me as it continued to bounce up and down. Where was I? What just happened? I was in initially in darkness, warm and resting. Now I was conscious, restless, and under attack.

            “Wake up, Daddy,” the little meteor said. My thoughts were aligned now, and I smiled, despite the groggy state. I glanced at the alarm clock on the dresser beside my edge of bed. Six-thirty. About fifteen minutes off from when I needed to get up.

            “Come back in fifteen minutes, meteor. The dinosaurs still have some time to roam,” I said to her as I closed my eyes, and resumed a state of darkness. Yes, it was a her. I remembered now. She wasn’t a meteor either, she was my daughter. She stopped bouncing and crawled around to the edge of the bed I was facing. She stopped. Everything went silent again. Thank God, or whatever was responsible, I thought. Mildly warm air found its way across my face. It was in sync with my breathing, sucking air back when I exhaled and exhaling when I tried to breathe in. Her breath was neither awful nor lovely. It was a child’s breath. Neutral, though mildly irritating. I opened my eyes again, and met two little blue eyes meeting me.

            “Daddy, your breath smells funny.”

            “Then go breathe on Mommy,” I strained out of my tired and now gasping body. I threw the child, who exclaimed that she was a meteor once again, on top of my wife. She let out a moan of frustration. My needs would be taken away tonight, an unfair exchange for a lark.

            Once everyone was situated at the table for breakfast, all of the morning mood swings faded with the dark of night. The sun had been out for ages, second only to Wesley. She bounced as she chewed on her bacon, humming something from Sesame Street, or one of those other programs. Charlene was in a much better mood now, smiling at our daughter’s antics. Bright, curly red hair and blue eyes were just the tip of the iceberg. I truly felt lucky to have met her. She appreciated my goals, and was willing to walk with me on a rocky path. Her parents weren’t fond of my unconventional views, but they got used to it once Wesley came into our lives. They had to if they wished to see their grandchild. Bright red hair and blue-eyed like her mother. To this day I’m still amazed that she was the result of such a bond.

            “Has the doctor’s office called you back, yet?” Charlene was curious. So was I. Several times the family doctor had tried to get in touch with us, but I just hadn’t been able to respond yet.

            “Not yet, they probably need the latest insurance info. I’ll give them a shout soon.”

            “Can I have some chocolate milk?” Wesley asked. She was tactical in her approach to get such a treat. Charlene looked to me to make sure it was okay. I gave her the go ahead, and she got up to get the milk and syrup out.

            “Can you make one for me, to go?” Charlene gave me a look that said something along the line of “Really?” Not nearly as tactical in my execution to get what I want. I wasn’t six years old, and I wasn’t the one who contributed innocent, manipulative looks. Charlene rolled her eyes at me, and reached for another cup. Poor execution, but sometimes taking a trick from the pages of my daughter’s book worked.

            “How do you want it? Are you feeling more of a Jackson 5, or something closer to Thriller?” She held the syrup up, shaking it.

            “I’m feeling like more of a Thriller, maybe even a bit closer to Bad if you can pull it off,” I told her.

            “Ah, okay.” One thing we did share was a playful sense of humor. If it weren’t for that, I don’t think I would have had nearly as much luck getting to where I was. I considered myself beyond lucky, whatever that might be called. Family, finances, and a strong sense of fulfillment. Not without bumps in the past, but as a whole, I was well off.

            As I waited on the subway, I blanked out for a bit. It was nice to not think about anything specific. Every now and again I’d wander into some kind of thought, but nothing stressful. Ten years now I had been an urbanite, the exact opposite of my beginnings. I grew up in what some would consider the “boonies”. Dirt roads, gravel, and open fields. I suppose that’s where my calm demeanor came from. When you grow up in a whole lot of nothing, you tend to focus a lot of your free thought on, well, nothing. I did spend my time wondering about the future. The past was insignificant. It happens, time allows you to get over it, and I did. That mentality is why I earned the nickname “Dusty” from my friends. I was born Daniel Rhodes, but everyone started calling me Dusty because of my outlook. Everything behind me was a dusty road. It was clever decades ago. Now it’s just every inch a part of me as my flesh and blood are.

            The stop came, and I left. I went for the stairs the led up to the stop just a few blocks of the University I taught at. Something crossed the corner of my sight. Across the subway gap, a man dropped down onto the opposite tracks. I stopped to watch. No one seemed to notice. How could that be? This man, who was bandaged up in this large trench coat and fedora just stood there. I observed around, but no one was looking. No one had noticed. I glanced up at the top where the arrival estimates for the transits were listed. The next one was less than a minute away. Oh God.

            “Hey, sir!” I called out to him. He turned to me, grinned, and look right back down at the tracks. What was he doing? I looked across the track where the transit would soon be darting in. I could hear the faint sound of it in the distance. The only other time I felt this tense were when I proposed, and when my wife told me she was pregnant. I had to act, now.

            I bolted with all of my long dormant might for this idiot that was about to die. I got down on the tracks, grabbed him, and pushed him back onto the gap. He didn't resist, but he didn't help either. The transit was seconds away from me. I leaped for the edge, and rolled myself over. The transit came. As I caught my breath, I looked at this man, who was laughing like he had just gotten off the best ride, ever. Who was this man? He found his hat and placed it back on his head. He had the audacity to smile like what just happened was nothing.

            “Why were you down there? What were you doing?”

            “I wished to get a better look at the tracks. This entire system is fascinating.” I’m unable to recall his facial features, with the exception of his giant, perfect, and unsettling grin.

            “You could have died, what were you thinking?”

            “I think of many things. As I told you, I was looking at the tracks. I had no idea I was in danger, I apologize for inconveniencing you.” His speech pattern was monotone, and calm. He also spoke very formally. It was strange, to say the least. This man had perfectly symmetrical teeth. I had never seen anything like it. It would be pornography to someone like a dentist.

            “However, since you prevented a complication, I have something to tell you.” The transit doors opened up, and people began flooding out onto the gap. No one had seen anything. It was baffling.

            “In six months’ time, the road will run short, with nowhere left to go. And everything that follows will be dust.”

            “What?”

            “Use your time wisely.” This man backed away, and went into the crowd. I thought about going after him, but the entire experience was so off-putting, that I decided to let him drift away. I got a pen out, and wrote down what he said on my arm so I wouldn't immediately forget. I left, and continued on to my work.

            I arrived a few minutes late to the University campus, but my class was still there. Thank God for that fifteen minute rule. Today was exclusively my trope studies class, an overview of plot tropes in fiction. I continued my lecture about some of the more odd tropes, such as athletic animal loopholes, strangers on a train, and wake up, go to school, save the world. I felt my phone vibrate, and took it out. The doc was calling again. I put it up, catching a glimpse at the hand note I made of what the man had told me. Thinking about it, I decided to ultimately take the call. I told the class I would return momentarily, and went out into the hall.

            “Hello?”

            “Mr. Rhodes?”

            “This is he.”

            “It’s Dr. Brunsvold, I was wondering if you’d come up to the office.”

            “Sure, I’ll try to make it in today.i I have the updated insurance-“

            “This isn’t about your insurance. I highly suggest you come in as soon as possible.”

            “Okay. . .”

            I hung up the phone, and finished up my lecturing for the day. It could wait, I thought. I took a detour to the office. It was a nice day, so why not? When I arrived, the air changed. I walked up to sign in, but the front desk woman stopped me.

            “Don’t worry about that Mr. Rhodes. Just head on back to Mr. Brunsvold’s office.” Now, I wasn’t a regular at the office. I took care of myself and my family. Nor had I seen the woman at the desk before. How’d she know exactly who I was? I found my way to the office of a man I hardly know. Not a friend. Not exactly a stranger, either. He was my doctor, which was a sub-section in itself. No one really knows what to classify their doctor as. You have a casual conversation while this person stick things in you, or looks at your testicles. It never made me tense to be here, it was an odd, neutral feeling. Except today.

            The office was covered in a ton of framed certifications, photos of some successfully recovered patients, and family photos. It was stereotypical. I spaced out until the Doctor Brunsvold came in. He walked in with a folder and sat down. Typed a bit on his computer before even saying one word to me. A friend would have said hello. Like I said though, we weren’t friends.

            “Sorry about that, it’s been a long day. Very busy, I hope you understand.”

            “That’s fine, what’s this about?” I asked. He slid the folder over to me, tapping it as an indication that I should open it. I did exactly that, and read over the documents. The rest of the meeting was short. We said a few more things to each other, but there wasn’t too much to say. I began my walk straight home after that short meeting.

            When I arrived home, Wesley roped herself around my legs, and began shaking.

            “I’m an earthquake!” she said. I smiled at her, swaying the opposite direction to counterbalance. Charlene found us at the door. I quickly hid the folder between some of the school belongings I was holding.

            “Why is she obsessed with disasters?” the wife asked.

            “It’s not my fault,” I responded, pointing to our little earthquake.

            “That was incredibly corny, but I loved it.” She walked to me and gave me a kiss.

            “I learned about them in school.” Wesley said in a voice that swayed as much as she did. I scooped her up, and kissed her little head. The tenseness faded away again as I looked right into Charlene’s eyes. Without realizing what I was doing, I had already placed my hand on her cheek, stroking it with my thumb. I was lost; locked up in her beauty.

            “Are you okay?” she asked.

            “Yeah. I’m good. Sorry,” I put Wesley down, and put my arms around my wife, “Have we decided what we’re doing for dinner?”

            “I was looking at some recipes, do you have any preferences?”

            “Why don’t we order a pizza? Let’s watch a movie too.”

            “Pizza, yes!” Wesley exclaimed as she jumped around the room.

            “Well, we can’t disappoint her now by not ordering pizza. What about the movie?”

            “Doesn’t matter to me.” She was shocked.

            “Really? You’re usually Mr. Film Nazi about what we should watch. In that case, we’re watching one of my favorites, and if you make any kind of remark-“

            “I know.” I took the hint. Otherwise, needs would be off limits. Although my needs between now and then had significantly changed.

            After the pizza had arrived, we got on Amazon Prime and rented some kind of romance movie. Nicholas Sparks garbage of some sort. I watched because my wife wanted to though. She snuggled up to me, which made the viewing worth it. Wesley asked a lot of questions about why characters said or did certain things. I tried to explain to her that people like those in the movie make choices like that because they’re in love, and love makes you do spontaneous, wondrous, often clumsy things.

            “Don’t talk during my movie.” Charlene wasn’t happy about that. Wesley and I kept our mouths shut after that. Wesley fell asleep close to the end of the movie. She didn’t miss anything. The couple end up together, the ending is happy, and my wife is happy.

            “Will you take Wesley to bed?” The wife asked.

            “Of course.” I replied. While Charlene shut everything down for the night, I picked up Wesley and took her up the stairs. It was nice change of pace to hold a calm and collected little girl. I kept looking down at her with each step, hoping she hadn’t awakened. She looked so much like her mother, it was surreal. It comes with the territory though. You get married, you have kids, and they look at least fifty percent like you whether you realize it or not. I took her into her room. It wasn’t a girly room by any means. There was a lot of scientific toys lying around. Space stuff, too. She was going to be brilliant, I could really tell. I placed her in bed, and tucked her in. She snuggled in, and I kissed her on the cheek. As I began my first attempt to leave the room, she snagged my arm, and wouldn’t let go.

            “What are you doing now, sweetie?”

            “I’m a black hole. I’m gonna pull you in so you never leave.”

            “I never will. You have me, no matter what scientific thing you try to kill me with. I promise.”

            “Okay.” Wesley closed her eyes, and loosened her grip.  I slipped away and went to the bedroom.

            When I walked in, Charlene was nowhere to be found.

            “Charlene?’ I whispered. From behind, a fearsome creature pounced on me.

            “Hello,” she said. She pointed to the bed.

            “Acknowledged,” I said, and took her to the bed. We shared our needs, our commitment, and our love. Afterwards, we laid for a long time in silence. She snuggled up to me, wrapping her arms around me.

            “What are you thinking about?” she asked.

            “It’s not nothing, as surprising as that might sound.” She turned her head to me, and opened her eyes.

            “Really? You mean to tell me that you’re not like every other guy on this planet, constantly thinking about nothing?”

            “Nope.” She kissed me, long and slow.

            “You realize you have to tell me.” The way she looked at me with that combination of playfulness and sleep deprivation was one of my favorite expressions from her.

            “I was thinking about the moment I knew that I was in love with you.”

            “Do tell, please.”

            “It was when we were still working together at the Burger Joint. Remember when you had those game nights and invited every co-worker?”

            “Why wouldn’t I remember that?”

            “You asked, so I’m establishing. Familiar details and all.”

            “Very well.”

            “We all drove out to your parents’ house deep in the back roads and were waiting on you. That was so awkward sitting there with your parents. Had I known how difficult . . . anyways, you were out for a ride on your horse.”

            “Aw, Russell. I miss that horse.”

            “You came down a dirt road from the woods. The sun was setting behind you, your hair was so long. You would give Lady Godiva a run for her money.”

            “Hopefully to get some clothes. You make it sounds like I was prancing around naked on my horse.”

            “I meant that you looked absolutely beautiful, and I knew at that exact moment that I needed you in my life.”

            “I was just a girl riding a horse who worked a fast food restaurant part time.”

            “I was just a boy struggling through college, living paycheck to paycheck. I wondered if I could ever bring everything together. Hopes, dreams, and a future with you.”

            “You did just fine. You got past my parents. That was impressive in itself.”

            “I’m still trying to get past your parents.”

            “They like you just fine. We’ll be exactly the same when Wesley reaches that same age we were.”

            “Yeah.”

            She took my hand and smeared it across the side of her face. I took control and stroked her cheek. When I did that, she noticed the note I had left on my arm. She grabbed my arm and looked at it.

            “Dusty, what is that?”

            “It’s just a quote I made note of from one of the books I’m reading through. I liked it, and didn’t have any paper nearby, so I wrote it on my arm.”

            “Everything that follows will be dust. Use your time wisely. Interesting.”

            “Yeah. Let’s go to bed.”

            “Yes sir!” Charlene saluted, then rolled over and hit the off switch on the lamp. It didn’t take long for her to fall asleep, but that was an entirely different story for me. I didn’t move, but my eyes were wide open. I continued to think about what the man at the subway had said. How could he have known? Who was he? The shocking part was that he was trivial in comparison to the rest of the day. He didn’t matter. He was an issue of the past. The future was all that mattered, and he warned me.

            After attempting to sleep, I gave up. I crept out of bed, down the stairs and into my office. I moved my university work and picked up the folder Dr. Brunsvold had left me. I read through it several times. I weighed my options. The truth was that my options were limited. I couldn’t put them through that pain. Everything that was to follow was mine, and mine alone.

            I collected the papers that originated from the folders, and placed them back in said folder. I went out on to the back porch, placing the folder into the fire pit. I found some lighter fluid and a box of matches, returning outside. I emptied the remaining lighter fluid into the pit. The folder found its way into the pit as well. With one strike, the first and only match was lit. It dropped flickering, then rose as a mighty flame. I remained outside so long as the fire burned, then went back inside.

            I crawled back into bed. Charlene, as far as I know, had no idea I was up. I hoped to keep it that way. The same goes for Wesley. I looked outside, observing the last of the smoke fluttering away in the moonlight. Dawn was beginning to break, and soon one of them would be up. Maybe if I were lucky, I’d get about 15 minutes of sleep. I thought of the man’s big grin, and tried to copy it. I hardly ever made a full on smile that showed teeth. It was interesting. I drifted off to sleep, despite knowing I would most likely be pounced on soon by the offspring that loved to take form of some kind of scientific anomaly. I was okay with that, though. Soon, I would fall into the greatest sleep, and she won’t be there to wake me up.