The Last World (4 page)

Outside the room
, Doctor Doug asked everyone that had contact with Franklin if they told him anything about his condition. Doing so was against hospital policy and, after allaying any of their fears, every nurse and orderly said the same thing. No one said anything to the patient about his treatment and possible causes. Doug wasn’t sure he made the right choice asking them, as it created more doubts in his own mind but what else could he do?

Chapter 5

Steve came to a stop in front of Janice’s apartment house. The ride had proven to be good for Steve. “Behave yourself, bud. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t.”

Horace smiled
. “Good thing for me that’s a short list.”

Laughter burst from Steve
. “You got that right. Call me later.”

Horace closed the door and raised his hand in a farewell salute. He doubted Steve noticed
, because he tore off down the street doing sixty. Good old Steve.

During the ten minute drive from the hospital, Horace witnessed one of the things that made Stephen Drake such a good man and friend
: his strength of character. Life wasn’t easy, but his friend bounced back from any impending hazard stronger than he was before. Where ever he got it, Horace knew Steve would need it for when he got home.

“About time you showed up.”

And now it was time to turn his attention to better, more enjoyable things. He turned to see Janice standing a few feet away trying to look upset.

Janice
ran from the second floor apartment when she saw them pull up in Steve’s F-150. Trying to even her breathing, she focused on being the “mean” girlfriend. “I can’t wait to hear this excuse.”

Horace made a point to look at his watch… ten minutes early. “You’re right. The only excuse I have is my watch stopped.”

“Asshole.” The curse came out with a mouthful of laughter as she hurried over and kissed him. When they separated, she couldn’t have stopped smiling to save her life. “I like it when you’re early.”

“So do I.” He held her with his hands resting on her hips. Nothing could’ve felt more real to him than that moment they shared.

They stood there for a minute or two looking in each other’s eyes before Janice led him toward her apartment and the waiting dinner. When he stepped through the door, he couldn‘t help but smile. Waiting for them was a microwave lasagna dinner and buttered bread he assumed she put garlic salt on. After growing up on good, home-cooked meals, he wondered if he was looking at his future.

“What’s so funny?” She caught the amused look in his eyes.

Horace shrugged, there wasn’t anything more he could do. “I didn’t expect it to be so elaborate.”

Janice watched him for a few seconds before she caught on. “You don’t think I can cook. You expected take out.” She glared at him, daring Horace to say something.

The look on her face was priceless and he forgot any lingering thoughts or concerns from earlier that day. “Or sandwiches. OW!” He rubbed his shoulder where she punched him. She didn’t have a bad punch for only being a buck twenty-five.

“There anything else you want to say?”

A bark saved Horace from the wiseass remark he planned on using. Off to the side and locked in the narrow hallway with his newspapers and toys, was Buster. “Hey, Buster! How you doing, boy?” Horace went over and knelt in front of the child gate and rubbed the puppy’s ears. Propped against the gate, Buster rested his chin on the gate’s top, eating up the attention.

Horace noticed the gate for the first time. “When did you do this? I didn’t see it before.”

Janice smiled as she stood leaning against the wall with her arms crossed. “Mr. Stevens installed it for me yesterday. I only use it like now, when I was leaving the food to see you. It’s not permanent.”

I’d hope so
, he thought. In another month, maybe two, Buster would be able to jump over the gate without a second’s thought. He didn’t have the heart to tell her that, but he thought she already knew. “So, we’re letting him out?”

Janice shrugged. “That’s the plan.”

Buster seemed to know what they were planning, so he tried to help Horace with the latch. His tongue and saliva only made the latch slippery and harder to undo, but Horace succeeded after a couple of tries.

*****

As he suspected, the buttered bread had been sprinkled with garlic salt. While not the most artistic in nature, the effect blended well with the lasagna. While the meal wouldn’t pass the scrutiny of a typical Italian lover, it was far better than he could’ve done on his own. Horace pushed his plate away after three helpings

“Finished already?” Janice watched him
with a smile. “Good thing I bought the family size.” There were two things about men she learned over the last couple of years. The first being, if a man is allowed to, he’d eat like a pig. And second, he’d eat one out of house and home. Knowing those facts and seeing them in operation, she couldn’t help but wonder how Horace stayed so thin. If she ate half of what he did, she’d buy stock in one of those diet companies.

Horace patted his flat stomach and smiled. Being proud of himself was one thing but to help Janice feel good about her meal, even if store bought, went unparalleled. “I couldn’t eat another bite.” He responded after
stifling a belch.

Shaking her head, she put the empty cardboard container on the floor for Buster. She knew it wasn’t healthy or smart to feed a dog table scraps
, but she couldn’t stop pampering her little boy. When she looked up, she changed that to her boys. Watching Horace go about clearing the table in preparation for that night’s movie,
Caddyshack
, she could only smile and shake her head. At least Horace was housebroken.

*****

Franklin remained unmoving except for the gentle rise and fall of his chest. Even his eyes barely moved as he counted the black spots in the drop ceiling tiles. It was something he started doing to keep his mind active. He exhausted the line of thought based on figuring out what the tiles were made of earlier and settled on them being made of some sort of cardboard or fiberglass threads.

Asking the nurses
hadn’t helped as they didn’t know and only smiled at him, asking, “Can we get you anything?” Each time he shook his head or said no, but he was curious as to how they’d react if he asked for a fifth of scotch or a line of cocaine. He never touched either of them, he was a beer drinker, but it was hard for him to not imagine the looks he’d get.

Yet
, on some level of consciousness he knew what they’d say or do if he asked, thus he decided to entertain himself with counting the black marks on the surface of the tiles.
What caused those marks?
He wondered, but didn’t lose count. If he did, then he’d have to start over and he didn’t want that to happen. The longer he could keep his mind active, the longer he hoped to keep the images away. Not yet sure he was insane, he felt himself slipping.

“Why do you resist so? Are you that ungrateful?”

Franklin’s eyes flew open and he slammed his hands on the mattress at his sides. He was sure he hadn’t fallen asleep. Although he didn’t look, he could sense Tanok to his left. “Leave me alone.” His voice was low and his anger was beginning to boil.

“It is not up to you or me. I helped you, will make you a hero and all you do is fight against me.”

Tanok didn’t move, Franklin was sure of that, but somehow his face became clear and unhindered by the shadows.

Franklin pushed himself into a sitting position. “
You
helped me? My life’s been turned upside down since you appeared. Anyway… you don’t exist.”

Tanok gazed at him with a mixture of kindness and impatience.
“You have been through much and I cannot help that. I am here to help you. If you do not accept that, then you will be erased. I must not fail because of your sensibilities.”

Franklin stared at him
; the manor Tanok spoke to him was calm and without any emotion. Nothing different from their other conversation except for the threat. “What… do you mean erased?”

Tanok remained motionless, giving no hint at whatever thoughts passed through his mind. After a moment
, he spoke with sorrow in his black eyes, but his voice remained the usual monotone.
“You will cease to be.”

Franklin swung his legs off the side of the bed and gasped for breath. The anxiety attack should’ve
caused him to remain still but he made himself move as perspiration dotted his forehead. Through an inner strength he didn’t have before, Franklin forced himself to calm down. After a minute of rapid heartbeats, a tight chest, dizziness, and an unbridled fear he never experienced before, he regained control. His fear came from the feeling his attack was caused by Tanok.

When he was certain he could trust his voice
, Franklin spoke three words. “Am I crazy?”

This time
, the emotion in Tanok’s eyes carried in his voice.
“No, you are not.”

A flash of light snapped Franklin from his sleep.
Was it really sleep?
At first he wanted to discredit what he experienced but he couldn’t bring himself to do so. Something about this dream felt more real than the others. The one part he did notice was he didn’t feel an unbearable pain in his back this time and he hadn’t bit his tongue. At least something positive came from the experience. He was tired of the taste of his blood, but he did have another question that seemed trivial to him at the moment. Why was it his tongue was always healed when he came to his senses?

He remained in his bed thinking about what Tanok told him. He wasn’t crazy, or so the illusion told him. Common sense told him to ignore Tanok, but the feeling of what happened when he was told he wouldn’t exist any more wouldn‘t leave him. Could you really die in a dream? He found himself believing he could… if it was indeed a dream.

*****

Close to eight o’clock
, Doctor Doug Townsend spent the final few minutes in his office finishing any loose ends before he left for the day. The last file was on the new admission, Franklin Bowen. He paused with his pen in his hand and stared at the file. The man unnerved him unlike anyone he ever met. Why was that? Because he knew a portion of his brain was swollen? It was easy enough for him to have heard someone say something, but no one had.

Despite what was said, he thought
how
it was said bothered him the most. The young man sounded so… matter of fact. As though he were reading from a text or answering a question in class.
It was like he was reading my mind
. The thought chilled him to the bone and his hand began to shake.

He took a deep breath to try to relax. He’d been doing this job for over twenty years and his imagination was playing tricks on him. That was the only thing he could bring himself to accept. He was a man of science and spent his life studying the human mind and head. He read hundreds of articles claiming such a thing was possible under certain adverse conditions. As a man of science
, he preferred to believe in what he could see, touch, and taste. His belief didn’t avert any of his fears.

He jumped when his office phone rang. Grateful for the inter
ruption he picked up the receiver. “Doctor Townsend.” His face relaxed into a smile when he heard the voice. “Janice. This is a wonderful surprise.”

*****

With their dinner and movie over, Janice and Horace did what couples do from time to time. They began chatting. It took less than a handful of minutes for Janice to start ribbing her boyfriend about how he reacted to her father. The pair reminded her of a young man trying to get a recommendation for a scholarship.

“What’s your issue? Dad likes you.” It was an age old debate between the two. Over the course of their time together
, Horace’s insecurities have driven her to points of anger and the wondrous realms of laughter. Out of the choices, she preferred the latter, and so forced herself to laugh at his shortcoming. This time, however, she found it hilarious.

Horace could only shrug
. He didn’t have a clue as to why Doug Townsend made him so nervous. “If I knew…” He shrugged once more to finish his answer.

Janice shook her head as she watched her boyfriend. What was she going to do with him? Struck by inspiration
, she went to the wall phone and dialed the number for her father’s office. She smiled at the questioning look on Horace’s face while she waited for the ringing on the other end to stop. She felt a tiny pang of guilt. Maybe she was being too sadistic. She shook her head; it was time to put an end to this.

At first, she thought her plan was defeated by dumb luck as the phone service took longer than usual to connect them.
He’ll be home by the time I get through
. A click signaled her call made it through the hospital switchboard. When she heard her father’s voice, her smile widened. “Hi, Daddy.” The look on Horace’s face was priceless, far better than she dreamed. “I just wanted to call and say hi.”

Horace watched her
, intent on not allowing his anxiety to get the better of him. He knew she wouldn’t really call her father just to torture him. A minute earlier, he would’ve bet his small bank account on his belief and he would now be poorer than dirt. As much as he wanted to be angry, he found he couldn’t be. She was trying to help, in a twisted sort of way.