coming-- it struck instant terror into his heart and Hans played it off without anyone knowing what had happened. Now ten years after that the voice had returned, but it was not just an occasional visit; it had become a nightly visit for the past year and Hans knew he had to do something about or it was going to drive him crazy.
He found himself distracted and unable to work, what Margie earned as a nurse was enough to pay the bills and have a little left over, but it didn’t help his ego at all; Hans knew that he should be bringing the majority of the income into the house. It had been six months since he had written even a single word on his new novel, “Involved.” His publisher was calling him wanting to know when the first draft would be ready for review and he kept putting him off with a number of excuses and the publisher replied with a warning that if there was not something in written form on his desk by the end of the month that they would be forced to shelve him as a writer for their company. Hans had to do something about this voice that he was hearing; and it was not a voice that was in his head, but it was an audible voice that came from somewhere in the room as if spoken by an invisible man. Sometimes Hans would see a form move along very quickly in the area where the voice came from and sometime that shape would get close to him as it had the night that Margie was in the bathroom brushing her teeth; Hans just knew that was going to be the night that it would get him.
The idea came flooding out of his brain like a stream that had been blocked up for ages; why not use the voice to his advantage. That would make a wonderful chapter in his book, suppose the main character had been plagued by a voice from his past and it was driving him crazy. What had caused the voice? Was it the voice of someone that he knew, a friend, or perhaps a foe? What lengths would the character go to in order to make the voice stop? Could the voice be stopped?
For the past year Hans had been running scared from a voice that was driving him crazy and now his strategy had changed; this time the voice would know that Hans MacDonald was a real man and that he was in charge.
Margie MacDonald arrived home at 02:00 am to a darkened house and wondered what was wrong; Hans always left all of the lights on and would be found in a chair sitting upright fighting off the sleep that tried to overcome him. When she would ask, “Hans, why are you still up?” He would always reply, “I just couldn’t sleep without you, my darling wife.” Margie had gotten used to this routine and was really looking forward to it. “Perhaps Hans just couldn’t fight it off any more,” she thought to herself and made her way upstairs. There he was curled up in the bed sound asleep, so Margie went into the bathroom to shower and get ready for bed.
Two things brought Hans MacDonald to the state of light consciousness, the sound of the shower coming on; which meant that Margie was home and would be joining him in the bed, giving him comfort and security. The second thing was not as pleasant to think about, but was there none the less; that voice from his past, --I told you that I would get you one day Hans and that day is coming-- “Well what are you waiting for? Come get me, I’m tired of this game you play. Either you come get me or I am getting out of this bed and I will come get you.” There was silence in the room and Hans; who was fully awake now waited for a response from the voice.
The water in the bathroom stopped and a few minutes later Margie MacDonald appeared in the bedroom and found her husband sitting on the end of the bed wide awake. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” “No, dear it wasn’t you that woke me it was… Never mind that’s not important, you, and I are together and that is what counts.” The rest of the night was peaceful and after the couple enjoyed some “alone time” they both drifted off to sleep. This seemed to be the pattern that was going to continue on and on; and at first Hans welcomed it.
However, even on the nights that Margie was working late and Hans went to bed early the voice was beginning to be a no show in his life. You see that from the first time that Hans had showed “the voice” that he was the man in the house it started to come less frequent. Hans had come to depend on the voice for ideas to put into his novel and they had been working very well; the publisher had been so excited about the first draft that they had issued Hans an advance on the book to the amount of $25,000. Hans MacDonald was very upset at “the voice “because for years it had been there irritating him, scaring him, and causing him great misery and now when Hans needed “the voice” it was nowhere to be found. It had come to the point where Hans could not fall asleep because he was waiting to see if the voice would return. “I must hear the Voice again, please come back to me, I beg you, I need you more than I need my darling wife; please come back and never leave me again.”
Take two of these and they will help you sleep, those were the instructions on the bottle of sleeping pills. Hans took two and waited for the results to take place, an hour later he took two more, and an hour later he took two more; still he could not fall asleep. “These must be sugar pills, they don’t work” thought Hans to himself. He knew of a man down the street that sold real medications and so he called him and told him what he needed. “Meet me at the old cemetery in River Run, that’s where I am at and I will get you what you need.” River Run was more than an hour from where Hans lived and he almost decided to forget the idea but the desire to hear “the Voice” was intolerable and Hans would do anything to hear his beloved friend again.
Highway 68 was a straight shot between Rubble Junction and River Run and Hans loved to drive along the seaside looking at the view of the ocean below. The whole route was a series of curves and tunnels that went around and through the mountains; if you looked over the side of the rails at Lookout Point you could see the rocky base 500 yards below and then spreading out from the rocks was the sandy beach that lead to the salty water of the ocean. This is where he and Margie had their first romantic encounter, and it was the same place that he had proposed marriage to her three days later which she obviously accepted.
Hans sped past Lookout Point at about 100mph heading for the cemetery to meet the man that had the solution to his problem. The man was not a shady sort of character as one might expect the appearance of a provider of this sort to be; this man was a professional, a doctor by profession that provided a service to patients that could not receive medication in the usual manner. Hans took the trio of tablets from him and gave him $100.00 for his troubles then he found his comfortable place behind the steering wheel of the 2011 Corvette and put his plan into action. He would leave the cemetery and head back towards Lookout Point, once there Hans would take the tablets and wait for sleep to overtake him.
This would be a deep sleep a level that he had never before been to; there would be nothing hindering him from meeting his new love. Margie was special and Hans loved her very much and would not do anything to harm her. The love that Hans had developed for the Voice--I told you that I would get you one day Hans and that day is coming-- was beyond any physical love that could be, it was a deep love that filled his entire mind, and the Voice had changed over the two years since Hans had put his foot down. It had been the voice of a man; a threatening voice that wanted to do him harm, but now the Voice was that of a sweet female, a voice that through its soft tones promised peace, and love and satisfaction. If he were to truly enjoy life Hans knew that he must once again connect with his beloved Voice.
“Do I dare meet with my beloved in the place where Margie and I met?” “Yes, I must because if I cannot have this peace in my mind then things will continue to break down at home.” With that thought Hans pushed the accelerator to the floor and watched with great excitement as the Corvette quickly climbed from 80mph, 100 mph, and 120mph. Lookout Point was approaching very quickly and Hans knew that he should begin to slow down; somewhere between this thought and Lookout Point the pills took effect; all nine of them. The metal guard rail at Lookout Point was no deterrence to the yellow Corvette that smashed through it in excess of 160mph. The birds in the sky saw what happened and the animals that were in the wooded area saw what h
appened, but Hans MacDonald had not a clue as to what was happening; he was fast asleep and in his state of sleep just before the final crunch of metal, and fiberglass upon the rocks below Lookout Point he heard these manly, terrifying words; --I told you that I would get you one day Hans and that day is come.--
Broken Hero
The old wooden blind covered the small window in my study. It was a great help in keeping out the afternoon sun that always tried to blind me when I was at the task of lettering a blank page. A solitary beam of light struck me with the speeding force of rocket. A missing slat was the doorkeeper that allowed the intruder into my room. With excruciating, stabbing pain I went to the window to draw the curtain, when I noticed something strange in my garbage can. There were two porcelain dolls sitting on the top of the bags underneath. What was strange about those two dolls is that I do not own any dolls; porcelain or otherwise. Anyhow, I went outside to retrieve them from amongst the garbage and what I discovered shocked me even more. There was nothing wrong with either of the dolls, no chips in their