Copyright 2009 Tom Fowler

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Nightmare

A short story by Tom Fowler

 

 

Ralph Justus heard a faint noise in his room – or thought he did. It did not matter, this had happened many times before. He looked over at the oversized digital clock on the nightstand that told him it was 2:17.

 

Even half asleep, Ralph took pleasure in his recent purchase. His eyesight had gotten worse and he could not see the numbers on a normal size clock, even though the bright red of the digits stood out in stark contrast to the blackness of the master bedroom.

 

Ralph thought he was dreaming. He saw in front of him a shadowy figure and the faint glint of something metallic. Foggily, he thought one of the other three persons in the house this night was there to strike him. For sure, they had reason to.

 

His wife of 25 years, Ann Justus, had recently been publicly humiliated by Ralph’s affair with a young intern at work.

 

His sister, Gloria Justus Caldwell, desperately needed the $25,000 she had loaned him a couple of years earlier, unknown to Ann.

 

Recently, Ralph found that his son Phillip had developed a drug habit. He refused his son’s plea for help.

 

Ralph was not a nice man and it was only fitting that his dreams were often unpleasant. He long ago had learned to live with the bad dreams that often escalated into full blown nightmares. It was the price he paid for a life of abusing others and foolish living. 

 

So, the shadowy figure that crept closer to his bed did not unduly frighten him as it would another person, for someone else would not realize it for what it is: simply a bad dream. Nothing more, nothing less and something his afternoon nap would make up for. Early afternoon was the only time that Ralph could sleep peacefully and not suffer the effects of his subconscious guilt.

 

As he drifted back into what, for him, was a deep sleep, Ralph faintly noticed again the menacing metallic object in the hand of the black, wispy dream visitor. In his half awake state, it appeared to be a knife, but he wasn’t sure. What he was certain of, however, was the glitter of the watch on the intruder’s wrist. The thought passed through his troubled mind that only one of the three persons in the house this morning wore a wristwatch.

 

Ralph realized the truth too late. Before he could scream out to Ann, who was still sleeping in the same bed with him even though she had only recently learned of his infidelity, the long knife pierced the temple of his brain, causing both the nightmares and his waking awareness to disappear forever.

 

Epilogue

 

Later, but still very early in the morning, the three of them finalized their story. Ralph had been a bad person, but the people around him were, ultimately, no better than he.

 

Over coffee, it was decided not to call the police right away. The blame was to be placed on the Justus’ handyman, Olen Taylor, a kind but dimwitted man who had been observed violently arguing with Ralph a few days before. The three needed to discuss what they would tell the police one last time.

 

After finalizing their plans, Ann said, “It’s done.”

 

Phillip said, “I better be going before the rest of the neighborhood wakes up.”

 

Gloria smiled at Ann, causing the new widow to ask, “So what are you smiling at?

 

“Darling, I was just noticing how nice that new diamond wristwatch looks on you.”