Inner Child: Part II

Once again, Jessica gasped.  “What is this girl doing here?”

Standing next to Jessica was a little girl wearing a red and white checkered dress.  She had gold hair, smooth skin and a fair complexion.

The scientists undid Jessica from the machine and she sat up.  “Whose daughter is this?  She needs to be somewhere else.”

The girl, however, started intently at Jessica.  She gave her a big smile and jumped up on her lap.  “Mommy….”

Jessica sighed.  “I am not your mommy.”  She then looked at the scientists, who were still speechless.  “Could any of you tell me what’s going on?”

Dr. Mayberry shook his head.  “As much as we would like to, we can’t.  You see, this was not supposed to happen.  You were supposed to remember your childhood.  That’s it.”

“Then what is she doing here?” Jessica said, point to the girl, who was now crawling on top of Jessica’s lap.

Dr. Mayberry smiled.  “Drawing from our conclusions, we are guessing that the very girl you see there is you, only younger.  She is, without a doubt, your inner child.”

Jessica shook her head and gave the doctor a crazy look.  “Okay.  If that’s the case, I want you to hit me in the head really hard.  When I wake up, I want you to tell me that this is someone else’s child.”

At this, Dr. Mayberry, the assistant and the other scientists laughed.  “I’m sorry, Miss Smith.”  Dr. Mayberry told her.  “But in a way, that is your child.  She is your younger self.  She has all your same features.  Hair, eyes and face.  The only difference is that she’s an earlier version of you.  Now we didn’t plan this at all.”

Jessica shrugged her shoulders, while the girl grabbed her hand, trying to get her attention.  “So what do I do with her?  Don’t tell me.  This is a dream, so it doesn’t really matter.”

“I’m afraid it’s not, Miss Smith.  The experiment did not go as planned, but take her with you.  And here’s the $300 we promised for participating.”

The doctor’s assistant handed her $300 and gave it to Jessica.  Dr. Mayberry then approached her.  “Good day, Miss Smith.” he told her.

Jessica sighed and left with the money and the girl.

Out on the street corner, there was no taxis to be found.  While she was waiting, she studied the girl.  She looked like, if she would to guess, only four-years old.  Having a child was the last thing she wanted right now.

The girl tugged at the hem of Jessica’s black Capri pants.  “Where are we, mommy?”

Jessica scowled, and looked the girl right in the eye.  “I am not your mommy.   You are me, only much younger.”

The girl’s eyes widened and she frowned.  “But you look like my mommy….”

“That’s where you’re wrong, ‘younger me’,” she argued.  “Let’s go home.”

Jessica finally found a taxi and she was driven back to the Riverside Apartments.

Taking the girl by the hand, she entered the apartment, took the elevator to the fifth floor, and entered 506.

As she entered, a look of worry filled the girl’s face.  “Mommy, where’s daddy?”

Jessica snickered.  This is absolutely crazy.  “Daddy is not here, and neither is mommy….”

At this, the girl laughed.  “No!  Don’t be silly, mommy.  You’re right here!”  The girl jumped up and embraced Jessica.

Jessica then looked underneath the girl’s dress.  “Are you potty trained?”

The girl nodded.  “But I already went, mommy!”

Jessica gasped.  “When did you go?”

“I went before I appeared in that strange place.   I tried waking you up because you were sleeping.  You wouldn’t wake up, mommy….”

After that, Jessica looked at the girl’s clothes.  She was just wearing a finely checkered dress with a loose red ribbon in her hair.  “Do you have any other clothes?”

The girl placed her hand on her head.  “At home you do, mommy….”

Jessica gasped.

The next thing she found herself doing was taking the girl to some clothing stores to get some new clothes for her.  She bought two new outfits and some pajamas for her.  Overall, she spent $150 of the $300 she was given.

For the rest of the day, Jessica struggled with how she was to raise this girl.  If the scientists were right, she was actually raising herself.  The very idea of raising her was weird.

That night, Jessica’s cell phone rang.

“Yeah, what?” Jessica shouted.  “Oh!  It’s you, Paige!  The experiment?  Forget about that.  Why?  I know this sounds weird, but I think they removed my inner child and now she’s running lose in my apartment.  No.  Seriously.  I mean it.  They actually let her lose from my head.”

A pause.

“Paige, I am NOT making this up!  Don’t believe me?  You can see her tomorrow.  No, she’s not sleeping in my bed.  She’s sleeping in the bed in the guest bedroom.  Yes, I fed her.  Just the stuff I eat.  Is that okay?”

“The money?  Yeah.  I already spent half of it on her clothes!  With my younger self around, we will definitely need a babysitter for Friday.  I am NOT canceling this double date.  Me and Brad.  You and Steve.  Just like we planned.”

“What?  I don’t need one?  I’m making all this up?  Since when have I lied to you like this, Paige?  Come over tomorrow morning and we’ll see who gets the last laugh.  Yes Paige.  I don’t know how a person can be extracted from someone’s mind.  Don’t ask me.”

“I just put her to bed, so I should be going off to bed, too.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning, and stop laughing!  I’m not crazy!  Bye.”

Jessica hung up.  She got all ready and went to bed.

In the middle of the night, Jessica felt a light tap on her shoulder.

And then a whisper.  “Mommy, I had an accident….”

Jessica began to pinch herself as hard as she could….

______

©2012  K. L. Walker

Inner Child

Jessica Smith hung up the phone.  The time was 5:32 in Dr. Wakeman’s Neurology Clinic.

Looking around, Jessica sighed.  “Tell the doctor that I’m not going to wait around any longer,” she told the assistant.  “I’m clocking out.”

Jessica quickly filled out her time card and placed it on the desk.  She then grabbed her coat, her purse and carrying case and left the office.

After leaving the office, Jessica took the elevator from the 27th floor to the 1st.  She then called down a taxi and told them to take her to the Riverside Apartments.  She wasn’t in the mood to eat out tonight.

After arriving at the apartments, Jessica took the elevators to the fifth floor.  She kept moving until she stopped at 506.

Once in the apartment, she started up the oven and opened up the freezer, pulling out a frozen dinner. After the oven got to temp, she placed it in and waited.

While she was waiting, she continued filling out the form.

“Another crazy experiment,” she sighed.

Suddenly, her cell phone rang.

“Oh, hi Paige.” She said.  “What am I doing?  I just got off of work and I’m making a TV dinner.  Work ran longer than usual and I had to deal with an angry customer.”

A brief pause.

“No!” Jessica shouted.  “Of course not!  I have not forgotten.  I’m still going out with Brad.  I just haven’t had the time lately.”

Jessica checked the oven.  Her TV dinner only had 15 minutes.  “Yes Paige, I remember.  Next week, right?  I’ll bring Brad and you’ll bring Steve.”

There was another pause, and Jessica sighed.  “Tomorrow’s Friday.  I know.  I have it off because I agreed to participate in this experiment.  What experiment?  They said that they can they bring people back to their childhood.  What?  Hypnosis?  I don’t know.  I just found it in the newspaper.  I get $300 for participating, okay? Yeah.  I already told you.  I have tomorrow off because I’m doing this.  Paige, I already told you.  I don’t know much about the experiment.  It’s something about my ‘inner child’ or something like that.”

More silence.

Jessica sighed.  “Are you still there?  Okay.  My dinner’s almost done and I still have to finish the forms for this whole experiment thing.  Yes.  If I don’t turn this in, I can’t participate and I can get my $300.  Yes, I’ll be there next week.  Yes, with Brad too.  And you’re bringing Steve?  Okay.  Sounds good.  I’ll talk to you later. Bye.”

Jessica hung up and finished filling out the form.  She had her dinner, watched a little TV and went to bed.

The next morning, Jessica got up early.  She got ready and took her carrying case with her.  She took a taxi to a laboratory that was outside the city in the suburbs.

She entered the laboratory and took the paperwork out of her carrying case.  She showed the receptionist the paperwork.  The receptionist let Jessica through.

Jessica was then led into a small room with five other people, with a lab assistant nearby.

“I see you five are here for an experiment.”  The assistant said.  “Allow me to introduce myself.  I am Neil, and each of you are going to take part in a different experiment.  Our lab technicians will guide each of you to a different room. Until then, relax.  You will get your money at the end of the experiment.”

Moments later, the technicians took each one of the five people into a different room.

As they were leaving, Jessica approached Neil and looked at him.  “What about me?  Am I going to be in an experiment?”

Neil sighed.  “I’m sorry.  The request that we sent out was only for five people.  I guess we should’ve called you.”

“Called me?” Jessica whined.  “I called about the inquiry.  This lab called back and told me that I was selected.  You even sent me some paperwork to fill out.”

Neil shrugged his shoulders.  “It was a mistake.  We didn’t realize it until after we sent it out.  We’re really really sorry.”

Jessica threw the paperwork on the ground.  “You know what?  Forget it.  I will find another way to earn $300, or even more than that.”

Just as Jessica was about to leave, a doctor came in.

The doctor studied her and frowned.  “What is she doing here?  She’s not one of our colleagues.”

Neil looked at him with a sheepish smile.  “She’s one of our extra participants that we don’t need.  We only needed five, right?”

The doctor nodded.  “You could say that, but there’s one other thing that I just discovered in the research.  We actually need one more person.”  The doctor approached Jessica.  “What is your name, miss?”

“Jessica,” Jessica told him.

“Jessica?”  the doctor smiled.  “I am Dr. Mayberry.  Come with me. There’s one other thing that we need to test.

Jessica followed Dr. Mayberry into a small round room.   When asked, Jessica gave him the paperwork.  She was then strapped to a machine.  It was a bed that they laid her on and strapped her in, with a belt over her stomach and a helmet attached to her.

“We are going to find your inner child,” the doctor told her.  “After that, you will be able to remember everything about your childhood.  We will then let you go.”

Dr. Mayberry signaled his assistant to turn the machine on.

Jessica felt a strong tingle of electricity flowing through her.  After that, she was knocked out.

When she came to, she heard a little voice.

“Mommy?”  It sounded like a little girl.

Jessica opened her eyes and gasped.  She couldn’t believe her eyes what was standing before her….

______

©2012  K. L. Walker

A Different Set of Feet

I wiggle on the floor and reach upward.  My hands are now on the armrests of my chair.

Pressing down on the armrests, I hoist myself up and sit down.

I then fastened myself in the chair and adjusted the leg rests.

My chair is not the kind of chair that you use to relax.  My chair has wheels attached to it.  Two large wheels in the rear for moving and two smaller ones in the front.

When I am out, I get a lot of different looks from people.  Whoever looks at me, I give them a big smile.  They may feel sorry for me or may try to help me.  It doesn’t matter.  I am happy with any kind of interaction I receive from others.

When people get past the chair that I am sitting in, they see that I am a person, just like they are.  The only difference is that I have a different set of feet.  Being paralyzed from the waist down, I can not use the feet I was born with.

Regardless, this doesn’t stop me from being the person that I should be.  I could feel sorry for myself but I don’t.  Somebody told me that God put me in this chair for a reason.  And you know what? I totally agree with them.  I have no regrets for the accident that happened.  I do thank God that everyone involved in the accident is still alive, and I am one of them.

Attached to the back of my wheelchair is my big bag of essentials.  Every once in a while, I get a person that asks about the bag.  I’m not rude about the person who asks at all.  I just tell them.  That bag has things that I need.  Besides the typical things that a wheelchair bound person carries, the most important thing that I need is my bible.  I usually tell that person about that when they ask about the bag.

The conversation then either goes one of two ways.  Sometimes, the conversation ends right there.  The person then thanks me and leaves.  Other times, the person is a little bit more open.

Usually it starts with myself.  They ask me how I can be so happy if I’m in that wheelchair.  I tell them that God has given me a reason to be happy and that smile is for them.  I then ask them if they know Jesus.  For me, that question is very important because I was given a second chance.  Before the accident, I didn’t believe that there was a God.  If they tell me that they don’t know Jesus or believe in God, I tell them that I was in the same place myself, and that they should give him a chance.

This is how it was with me.  After the accident, I was very angry and frustrated.  I wondered to myself, if there was a God, why did he allow me to suffer like this?  A friend then told me that he was real.   I totally disagreed with them, but they insisted.  They challenged me to ask him, “if you are real, prove it!”

So that night, that’s what I did.  I asked him that if he was real to prove it.  It didn’t take long for this to happen.  I suddenly started to cry.  I was filled with this feeling that I never felt before.  It was love, and I knew that it came from him.  Granted, I have felt love before, but I have never experienced it in this way.

After that, I repented and got saved.  All my anger and frustration was gone.  I then knew that he put me there for a reason, and that I was going to be his spokesperson.

If anyone is still standing there after I shared this story with them, I noticed that a few of them start to cry.  It’s mostly the women that cry when they hear this story.  They walk up to me, kneel down, and give me a hug.  As for the rest of them, they thank me for the story and they walk away.

My chair may not be the kind of chair that you have, but I see it as a throne.   I am blessed to be alive and blessed to be given a second chance with this new set of feet.

So if you ever see me,  please take the time to chat.  I would really appreciate the conversation.  Yes, I am in a wheelchair.  But I am a person, just like you.  And I look forward to meeting you.

______

©2012  K. L. Walker

Out of Time

William woke up.  The time was 8:04 a.m.  His work started at 9:00 a.m.

Without hesitation, he sprang out of bed.  For some reason, he slept through his alarm, and needed to make up for lost time.

William ran into the kitchen and turned on the coffee maker.  He then ran into the bathroom and began taking a quick shower.

8:22 a.m.  William was in a frenzy, shaving as fast as he could.  Unfortunately, he cut himself a few times.  There was no time for breakfast.  Only time for a cup of coffee.

8:30 a.m.  William gulped down his coffee.  It was scalding hot, but he didn’t have time to cool it down.  Work was 25 minutes away,  and that was without traffic.

8:32 a.m.  William was now cruising down the road.  Hopefully, he wouldn’t get a speeding ticket.  All he wanted to do was to get to work on time.

8:39 a.m.  A cop pulled William over for speeding.  The cop mentioned that William was going 82 in a 55 mile per hour zone.  With that, William was given an alcohol test.  William explained that all he had was a cup of coffee, and that he was going to be late for work.

8:50 a.m.   William was given a $200 ticket, a written warning and four points on his license.  Full of regret, he proceeds on to work.

8:59 a.m.  William was only halfway to work.  He was now out of time.

______

©2012  K. L. Walker

The Cider Stand

Charlotte turned the “closed” sign to “open”.

Charlotte didn’t have what you would call your average stand.  Her stand was a lot bigger.  Of course, it sold her cider.  But it sold a lot more than that.  There were fresh donuts that were made that very day.  There was pumpkin bread that could very well be the best pumpkin bread that you ever tasted.  There were a couple other donuts and some other pastries as well.

It has always been Charlotte’s dream to open up a bakery.  With her cider stand at twelve years old, she was surely on her way to achieving this.

While all her baked goods were delicious, everyone agreed that her cider tasted the best.  If you were to try it, it would have this certain bite to it.  Not too strong of a bite, but just enough for you to really feel the flavor.  Many have asked her what apples she used, but she would never tell.  Whatever it was, it was surely delicious.  Many have tried, but no one has ever made cider quite like Charlotte.

Charlotte gets her apples from her parent’s orchard, and she makes the cider.  It started as a simple activity that she did with her grandfather, when he was alive.  After doing it a few times, she started making cider using her own recipe.  It was something that took her a few tries to get right.  But when she did, it was magic.

Charlotte smiled as she watched her regular customers flock to her cider stand.  Everyone was there for one thing.  Her delicious apple cider.

______

©2012  K. L. Walker

Raising Avery

Audrey’s Perspective

I wanted a normal family.  In a sense, you could say that I almost accomplished that.  I had a baby girl and a set of two twin girls.  I then got what I wanted – a baby boy.  Yes.  Things were indeed normal until our last one was born.

While I was considered to be normal, I grew up in a strange family.  My family was strange because my older brother was strange.  While I and everyone else grew normally, my older brother Zachary only aged once every four years.  If you were to meet him, you would probably consider it to be quite strange.  For me, I have actually gotten used to it.  I grew up with the strangeness of his condition, eventually becoming a big sister to my older brother.  With the slowness in his age, he was actually my younger brother in a sense.  The oldest sibling, yet he was still the baby in the family.

Getting back to my family, my latest edition to the family changed normal in my family forever.  My youngest who was born, Avery, shared some genetic traits that were a lot like Zachary.  But unlike my older brother, her condition was a lot worse.  She aged even slower than him.  As I got to know her, I began seeing my life being relived all over again.  I found it shocking how eerily similar she behaved.  It was like another me.  Her face, her hair, her eyes.  Everything was identical to the way I looked as a kid.  To be sure, I even looked at my baby pictures.  Avery looked exactly like that.

Before getting to my special one, I will tell you about all my normal kids.  No.  Not yet.  I will first bring you to where it all began.

The story began when I met Michael.  He had everything I wanted in a guy.  He obvious had the looks, but more importantly, he had some very important goals.  He wanted to get his medical degree.  He said that he knew me from the stories that they ran on TV.  Stories of my older brother and stories of my father, since he became very wealthy. After high school and partway through college, I married him.

I didn’t want to stay at my dad’s house.  I wanted to live in a house, not a mansion.  I wanted to start my own life and raise my own family.  With that, I moved out and did just that.  My dad helped me by buying a startup house for me and Michael.  We moved in and the fun began.

Molly came first.  She arrived in June and was my normal kid.  In some ways, she reminded me of Katie, the one who babysat me as a kid.  In the way that she acted, I knew that she would be a very helpful girl when she grew up.  I was right.  But at that time, I was still raising her.  I got my undergraduate degree and Michael got his doctorate.  I still wanted a boy so I tried again.  With the money that we had saved up, we bought a bigger house to accommodate for our growing family.  I’m glad we did.

Lily and Lucy were next.  They were born two days before Valentine’s Day.  Although having a boy was a failure, they were a bundle of joy.  Lily was the super hyper one, and Lucy was more quiet and reserved.  They may have been identical twins, but they couldn’t be any more different.  Of the two, Lucy matured faster while Lily was always behind.  Molly, my little helper, really helped her little sisters out.  This was especially true when they got older.

At long last, my boy was born.  I named him Anthony.  I knew that he was a gift from God, since he was born on the same birthday as me.  Being born on April 1st, I celebrated my birthday in the hospital, and I celebrated Anthony’s as well.  He reminded me of my younger brother Timothy, only he was a little more shy and reserved.  With our family still growing, we bought another bigger house and sold the one we had.  With seven bedrooms, there would be plenty of room for our family.  The twins would have their own room, with still enough for a couple of guests.

A month later, I decided to do my mom a favor. I took my older brother and had him move in with me.  Since she raised him for so long, I wanted to do her a favor in raising him myself.

It felt weird calling Zachary my older brother.  It still does, even after all these years.  While he was older, he looked a lot younger than me.  At the time, I was 24 and he was 26.  In spite of this, he looked like a six-year old and he still attended the first grade.  At this point, I went from being his sister to being his mother.  It felt weird actually doing this since I grew up with him.  Granted, I babysat him a couple times but raising him full-time was going to be different.  Fortunately, I still had Molly, my little helper to help me with the transition.

So with that, my family was pretty normal.  Even with my “little brother” Zachary around, I considered this to be the case.  After a while, I felt bored.  I wanted one more child.  Little did I know what I was getting myself into….

That’s when she came.  Yes.  She.  This was the child that changed my life forever.  I wanted so badly to have a normal family after seeing what my brother Zachary had to go through.  I didn’t want any of that to happen to my kids.  Unfortunately, for this last one, it did.  Again.

Avery was a child that didn’t age.  At least I thought so at first.  For the first three years of her life, she was an infant.  Yes.  An infant!  I am not kidding.  The pictures do not lie.  Numerous pictures of my family, with her barely aging in each one.  The nights were long and exhausting.  Avery turned me into an insomniac.   Am I missing something?  Oh yes.  Her birthdate.  Now the doctors told me that she was actually born on February 29, 2032 at 11:59:59 p.m.  With that date being so close, they rounded it to March 1, 2032 12:00:00 a.m.  They wanted her to have a birthday every year, which was kind of nice of them.

But it didn’t change Avery.  As I said before, Avery was just like me in every way.  Of course I didn’t notice this at first.  It was much more noticeable when she got older.  That’s when she got older, since it took her a long time to achieve this.  After two years of virtually no growth, I was convinced that she had the same condition as Zachary.  I felt like it was the same condition as Zachary only much worse.  My brother’s aging was slow but Avery’s was a LOT slower than that.

The scary thing about this condition was that it almost happened to me.  I had all the same genetic flaws as Zachary did, only my genes were recessive, not dominant.  Had they been dominant, it would’ve surely happened to me.  In a way, I feel like it did happen to me.  It happened to my last child, who looks just like a clone of myself.  Whenever I’m around her, I feel like this.  It was another form of me.  What was supposed to happen to me happened to her instead.  I know that it feels weird but that’s how I feel around her.

So, where was I?  Why was I writing this again? …..Yeah!  That’s it!  I wanted to begin a record of my daughter Avery’s life.  In leaving this for her, perhaps it can help her understand who her mother was, and how much she loved her.  Avery is my fountain of youth.  My fountain of joy.  When I look into this fountain, I see my reflection.

I understand that I will die long before she’s fully grown.  Whoever is her next caregiver, I want them to continue recording this record.  They can continue where I left off, so Avery’s record will be covered in full.

So Avery dear, this is for you, okay?  I will be gone long before you really get to know me.  By the time that you do, you will really miss me.  You will still have your uncle Zachary to care for you, when he gets old enough.  Or his wife, if he’s too busy.  Whoever he decides.

Again, this record is for you, so think of me whenever you read it, honey.  In any of the entries, think of me.  In turn, I’ll think of you.  Whenever you miss me, pray.  I won’t be far from you.  I’ll be watching from heaven, so don’t think that I am gone.  I am just in a different place.

I love you very much, and I look forward to your arrival.  Your journey here is going to be a long one, but don’t let that discourage you.  You will have a lot of challenges, but don’t give up.  God gave you this body for a reason, so please make the most of it.

Live, learn, and read these pages about you.  I will see you soon.

Lots of love, your mother,

Audrey
“Audrey Sara Oakendale”  (Maiden Name: Willowbrook)

October 22, 2056

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©2012  K. L. Walker

A Lucid Reality

People have always wondered how I got here.  Just recently, I started to wonder that myself.

After giving it some thought, I started to remember where I came from.  I saw him, my maker.  For some reason, there was an opening.  When I passed through the opening, I fell out.

There my maker was.  A giant lying down on his bed.  Sleeping.  I left the house and began to explore this strange new world.

If you were to ask me about the world now,  I would say that I am now used to it.  It is a lucid world.  A world that I clearly know that I don’t belong in.

People also ask me if I am ever hungry.  I tell them that I don’t eat.  At least I don’t eat the food that you do.  People are strange in eating their food and having their drink.  My nourishment comes from thoughts.  My thoughts influence what form I take next.  Sometimes, I am a mother or a father.  Other times, I’m a wealthy businessman or a teenage girl in a dress ready for homecoming.  At times, I was a child and a  toddler, and I didn’t like these forms very well (I would have to say because of their limited movement and lack of freedom).  My form really depends upon the meal of thoughts that I consume.

Another thing I get asked a lot is why I feel so weird.  When I feel their body of flesh, bones and muscle, I ask them the same question.  They describe my body as “ghostlike”.  I heard them say this when someone gave me what they called a “handshake”.

When I try to describe this to someone, most people do not believe me.  Those who do call me a “dream”, whatever that is.  I am guessing that it has to do with the place where I came from.  The place that I somehow escaped.  My maker either wanted me to escape, or it was some kind of accident.

Whatever it was, I am here.  Wandering around.  Wandering aimlessly in this lucid reality….

______

©2012  K. L. Walker

The Usual

I got in the car and drove to my local sushi bar.  Tokyo Sushi is the name of the place.

Upon entering the place, I was greeted by the staff.  Everyone knows who I am, since I am pretty much a regular there.  I come in there five times a week to get my favorite sushi.  Heck.  I could eat it everyday and never get tired of the stuff.  I do this during the week.  Saturday is date night with my wife and a special dinner is eaten at home on Sunday.

For all other days of the week, I’m there.  Being the regular that I am, they knew where I wanted to sit.  The booth by the window, as usual.  As I sat down, an Asian waitress comes by to take my order.  “And what would you be having today?”

I smiled.  “Give me the usual.”

The waitress smiled.  “Oh!  The usual?  We’ll have that up in a moment.”  With that, the waitress scurried off like a mouse and ran behind the bar to hand the sushi chef the order.

What is the usual?  The usual for me is a root beer and their 15 sushi sampler platter.  Each roll on the platter has a sushi that I absolutely love.  No wasabi.  No ginger.  None of this is even needed if the sushi is prepared right.  And let me tell you.   They do it right here.

In just minutes, the waitress hands me my “usual”.  The sushi looks perfect, like it always is.  What is the secret to this perfection?  I have talked to the owner.  He tells me that he used to live in Tokyo.  According to the owner, everything they do in the preparation of the sushi is the same as over there.  All the rice is imported from Japan.  And all the seafood is freshly imported.  Granted, this place is a little expensive, but it’s definitely worth it.

With that, I reach out with my bare hands and begin eating my 15 pieces of perfection.  No chop sticks required.

______

©2012  K. L. Walker

Outcasts

I sat on the park bench and watched them.  I’ve seen them before.  In fact, I have seen them several times.

It was a father with his daughter.  The daughter looked to be about five.  She wore an old tattered polka-dotted shirt.  The shirt was purple, with the polka dots being various other colors.  She wore jeans with gaping holes in them.  A couple of them were around the knees, with a tiny one in the crotch.  Her socks were ratty and the shoes were little light up shoes.  The lights, of course didn’t work anymore and the shoes were worn.  The father wore a red polo shirt with a couple of tears  in the armpits.  His jeans looked like his daughter’s.  Holes everywhere.  Maybe a little more than hers.  His socks were old with a worn pair of Nikes.  It looked like the soles could give out anytime.

The homeless are often people that some ignore.  This is not the case for me.  When I look at the homeless, I see a displaced society.  Granted, some deserve to be this way, with their addiction to drugs, alcohol, or cigarettes.  Others deserve it because they are lazy, and don’t want to do anything at all.  For all the other homeless, they don’t want to be there.  They lost their job, their house and everything else that they owned.  The father and the daughter are this type of homeless.  I know from my interactions with them.

After watching them some more, I felt sorry for them.  The father was looking around, looking for food to forage for his daughter.  For him, it didn’t matter that he was fed.  All that mattered was that she got her food.

“I’m hungry, daddy!” I heard the daughter say.

I then heard the father.  “Don’t worry, Emily.  I won’t let you go hungry.  I’ll find you some food today.”

At this, I saw her nod.  “Okay daddy….”

I couldn’t stand it.  So I did what I usually do when I see them.  I get them a nice breakfast.  Not just for the daughter, but both of them.  I don’t have much, but I definitely have more than them.  And it’s the least that I can do.

So I took them to the usual restaurant and got them whatever they wanted.  They ate until they were full and satisfied.

After the meal, the father started to cry.  “I appreciate it.  I don’t know how I can ever repay you.”

“You don’t.” I told him.  “Think of it as my gift to you.”

The daughter turned to me and smiled.  “You are a nice man.  Thank you for the breakfast.”

I told her “you’re welcome” and watched them leave.  The father has lost his job and was desperately trying to find a new one.

As I watched the two fade out of view, I smiled.  Outcasts are people, no matter what society says about them.

______

©2012  K. L. Walker

The Promotion

Mark was hard at work, finishing his monthly report.  In the middle of his report, someone stopped him.

“Mark, I would like you to come to my office.”  It was Mr. Stevenson, his boss.

Mark stopped typing and got up from his chair.  What could this be about?  Everything was done.  All the additional projects were complete.  The only thing that remained was the monthly report, and any additional projects that were assigned to him.   Mark followed Mr. Stevenson to his office.  “What is this about?”

Mr. Stevenson smiled.  “You’ll see.  Just come to my office and we’ll talk.”

The boss led Mark into the office and closed the door.  The boss sat down at his desk.  “Sit down,” Mr. Stevenson told Mark.

Mark grabbed a nearby chair and sat on the other side of the desk from Mr. Stevenson.

“I’ve been observing your work here for the past few years.” Mr Stevenson said with a smile.  “And your work has got to be the best of any employee that I ever hired.  Upon seeing such amazing work, it fills me with such regret.  I really should’ve done this years ago.  Mark, I’m promoting you to head of the department.”

Mark was shocked.  He would’ve never imagined that all this hard work would pay off.  “Really?  You mean it?”

Mr. Stevenson laughed.  “Absolutely!  I discussed this at a board meeting with all the chief executives that work here.  They all agreed that you should be promoted.”

“Well,” Mark smiled.  “I’m flattered, really.  I really appreciate this.”

The boss extended his hand and he shook it with Mark.  “It is our way of rewarding you for all your hard work.  Now, I would like you to finish that monthly report.  After that, I would like you to begin moving all your things into your new office.  You earned it.  Keep up the hard work.”

“Right away,  Mr. Stevenson!”  Mark happily shouted.  Mark eagerly left the office and returned to his cubicle.   He then went to work on finishing the monthly report.  His new promotion was now only a few keystrokes away.

______

©2012  K. L. Walker

The Shoes

My niece came to visit me last week.  She came with just her mother, since the father couldn’t come.  He was busy, working very hard at his accounting firm.  As much as he wanted to come, he was too bogged down with work.  They live in Florida, a good distance away from where  I live here in Michigan.

Since they left, I noticed that there was a pair of shoes sitting in the living room.  They were my niece’s.  The shoes were in a hot pink and they had some cute little heels.  They were like a woman’s high heel shoes but a miniature version of this.

In looking at those shoes, I remembered the fun times that I had when my niece was over.  My niece was five, and she loved to play dress up.  She even got me involved in it.  She handed me her little purse and put lipstick on my face.  To keep her happy, I let her do this.

Another thing I noticed about my niece was how much shoes her mother packed for her.  This would explain why they would forget this pair of shoes.  They were running late and they didn’t want to miss their flight.

My wife also enjoyed the niece’s company.  We don’t have any kids of our own.   My wife suggested that we should have kids soon.  I’m not quite ready, but I”m definitely considering it.  Since my niece visited, I definitely want a kid of my own.

I stare at my niece’s shoes again.  My wife is working right now as a receptionist at a doctor’s office.  I work the later shift this week, in a factory.  For the niece and her mother to come, it was a sacrifice of both our time, for both me and my wife.

The trip was in the middle of the week, unlike most trips planned on weekends.  I can remember taking them to the playground.  My niece had these same shoes there, and she was dancing in them.  From her mother, I found out that she was taking dancing classes.  My niece wanted to show off what she learned, and I thought it was cute.

I looked at those shoes again.  They were the only thing that my niece left behind.  A byproduct of carelessness and haste, but at the same time, a gift.

With my eyes still fixed on the shoes, I smiled, and picked one up.  I’ve heard the saying about “walking a mile in someone else’s shoes”.  Entertaining the notion, I brought the tiny shoe up to my foot.  Way too small.  I believe that this saying only works “if the shoe fits”.  I almost sat the shoe down when I suddenly looked at it again.

I brought it to my foot and slipped it on.  For some reason, it fit.  I then slipped the other shoe on.  It fit perfectly.  It was then that I felt different.  Like the days of my youth were returning to me.  My now golden hair was all long and curly and I had a beautiful hot pink dress.  It looked like my nieces….  That’s when I realized that I was my niece.  At that, I smiled and I began dancing in her shoes in very much the same way she did at the playground….

I woke up, sitting on the chair.  I was holding my niece’s shoe and was once again a man.  It was all a dream, but it felt so real.

When my wife got home, I showed her my niece’s shoes.  She suggested that we send them out as soon as possible.  The mother and the niece live too far away to get them.  I agreed, and took the shoes with me.  I put them in the car, while I worked my overnight shift.

After work, I took them to the post office and I sat them on the desk.  The clerk weighed them and placed them in a package.  Before leaving, I looked at the packaged shoes one last time.  They were a reminder of her, and the fun times that she had playing in them.  Upon receiving them, I’m sure those fun times will continue.

As I left the post office, a sudden sadness filled me.  Without those shoes, I felt incomplete.  In thinking about the discussion with my wife about having a kid, I definitely want one now.  It would be a daughter, and I would buy those same shoes for her and take her to dancing lessons.

Then I could watch her dance around, clicking those cute little heels….

______

©2012  K. L. Walker

From Y to X and Back

A strange thing happened to me today.  After encountering it, I have regrets of having experienced it in the first place.  I saw Julia’s skin laying on the floor and I put it on.

Yes.  I put on her skin.  The skin was beautiful, just as I believed my wife Julia to be.

But wearing it was totally different.  For starters, my body felt totally different.  Upon entering the bathroom, my suspicions were confirmed.  There I stood, staring at the mirror with Julia’s breasts.  Upon feeling them, it just didn’t feel right when I had Julia’s skin on.  I had Julia’s beautiful long hair and her lovely eyes.  With her skin, I was Julia for the moment.

All of a sudden, I felt a mood swing.  I was angry and upset.  Now I understood what Julia meant when she was on her period.  It felt strange and equally awkward experiencing it in a woman’s body.

The more time I spent with her skin, the more I missed being my own sweet self.  This was especially felt when I suddenly had to go to the bathroom.  I thought that I wasn’t going to make it, but I did just barely.  It bothered me that I had to use toilet paper.  There’s only one place where toilet paper goes for me, and it’s not where women put it.

After folding the paper and tossing it in the toilet, I flushed.  I then looked down at her private parts.  It  was supposed to be fun, but it felt different having Julie’s mind.  It felt more normal.  It’s quite strange and awkward.  I can’t really explain it unless you were a man and were to experience this yourself.

I then approached the drawer to find the tampons.  At that point, it started to creep me out.  I realized that I was still wearing Julia’s skin.  It was too much for me, so I quickly removed her skin and sat it neatly on the floor.

Since I have done this, I have some regrets.  How will I look at Julia the same way again?  I experienced who she was without her knowing it.  I now understand what it’s like to be Julia.  All the hardships that women face daily.  Maybe a part of her is still there inside of me.  A part of her skin that I haven’t removed.  It was altogether awkward and strange.

With that, I will offer just one last word of advice.  If you ever see someone’s skin lying on the floor, DO NOT wear it.  It will change what you think of them forever.  You will see everything through their eyes with an awkward taste of their reality.  I have tasted Julie’s reality, and I’m still trying to get that taste out of my mouth.

______

©2012  K. L. Walker

A New Shade of Gray

Some say that cats are naturally curious creatures.  For me, I say that my cat’s curiosity has gone too far.

I stand in front of a broken vase.  Several fragments lay on the ground.  It was a family heirloom.  A vase given to me from my grandmother.  In looking at the broken pieces, it was clear that this broken heirloom was lost forever.

Who was responsible for the destruction of over 200 years of family history?  It was done by my charcoal gray cat, Granite.

If I were to be truly honest, Granite isn’t really my cat at all.  It is actually my wife’s.  Granite is a ball of energy that is seemingly infinite.  She is a kitten with a curiosity that knows no bounds.

Now about the vase.  Let’s just say that I was in the wrong place at the wrong time.  My wife was out of the house for the night, since she wanted to spend time with her friends.  This left me with Granite – the only cat that I know that can go mach 10.

Granite ran all over the living room while I was watching TV.  My glass was empty, and I was thirsty.  As I made my way to the kitchen, Granite ran up behind me and lept up at me, pawing at my pant legs.  I immediately caught her in the act.  Guilty as charged.  “No Granite!” I scolded.

After getting my soda, I exited the kitchen and made my way to the living room.  Granite pawed at my pant legs again.  I immediately scolded her again.  Doesn’t that kitten know any discipline?  I then returned to the recliner and continued watching my program.

Granite continued running and jumping.   She let out a tiny mew as she batted around her toy ball.  I turned away from her and my eyes returned to the television screen.

Looking back at Granite, I saw her run out of the room.  Where is she going?  I didn’t give it any thought at all.  I continued watching my program.

When it was a commercial, I looked around the living room.  Granite was nowhere to be found.   I muted the television, and tried to listen for her.  There was no sound.

Suddenly, I heard the sound of a “meow” coming from the other room.  I followed the sound and walked into the dining room.  There  Granite sat, on a wooden vase stand, near my grandma’s vase.  I need to get her away from that thing!

“No Granite!” I shouted.

But it was too late.  Granite lept off the vase stand and onto the floor.  The force was strong enough to knock over the vase stand and send the vase falling to the floor.

I looked at the vase, now broken into pieces.  This vase was grandma’s, and there was no way to replace it.  I then looked at the gray culprit.  I had no words to say.  It  was just an outpouring of fury, illustrated with ear piercing loud screams.  “Bad cat!” I screamed.  “Into the bathroom with you!”  I grabbed the cat with one hand and ran with it to the bathroom.  I plopped it on the ground and slammed the door.

And that was how it happened.  The gray terror ruined a family heirloom that I can never replace.  I got out a dust pan and began sweeping the broken pieces into it.   As I was doing this, I could hear Granite, mewing away.  They were forlorn mews.  If you were to hear them for a few seconds, you would describe it as something reminiscent of crying.

After I had all the pieces of my grandmother’s dear vase, I took the dustpan to the trash and cried.  And with a deep breath, I dumped the pieces in, sadly bidding my family heirloom of over 200 years goodbye.

Now that the mess was cleaned up, I heard the sound again.  Granite’s crying continued to ring in my ears.  It got louder and more shrill.  It was almost like she was trying to say “I’m sorry!”.

I couldn’t stand it anymore, so I opened the door and let Granite out.  I picked her up and I pet her.  For a curious cat, she can be a lot of trouble.  But I couldn’t help but love her.

______

©2012  K. L. Walker

Autumn Lawn

Darren looked at the lawn and sighed.  It was just as he feared.  A lawn full of tall grass, covered in leaves.

While the lawn was not that bad, it was the leaves that bother them.  Each one of them was an obstacle to getting the lawn cut.

With the leaves, Darren now had two jobs.  First, he had to rake all the leaves up.   When they were finally taken to the woods, then he could start on the lawn.

Darren, full of reluctance, put on his coat and got out there.  He began raking all the leaves up.  It was a vast army.  He used the tarp as a net to capture the leafy army and then dragged them to the woods.

So far, so good….Darren thought.  Right?  After he looked at the yard, Darren realized that he was only a quarter of the way done with the raking.  At this rate, it will take him forever to mow the lawn.  He glared at the leaves, raking them up vigorously and dragging them into the woods with the tarp.  This was why Darren hated fall.  It was because of the leaves.  It was pretty much the only reason.

Darren checked again.  Halfway done.  This is taking forever!

As Darren was raking, a strong wind blew, causing the trees to drop even more leaves on the ground.  “No….” he growled.

Faster and faster Darren raked.  Raking and dragging them into the woods.  Wash, rinse, repeat.

Finally, Darren was done.  All that remained was the lawn.  “I hate fall,” he sighed as he put the rake away.

______

©2012  K. L. Walker

Barriers

Milton sat down at the computer.  He was just about ready to continue on his novel.

He opened Word and placed his hands on the keys.

Just when he was about to write something, the phone rang.  He was going to ignore the phone call, but the Caller ID had an important name on it.  It was his dad.

“Hey son!” The father said.  “Do you think you could get me some groceries?  I would get them myself, but you know…. I have a bad back….”

“Sure.” Milton said with a smile.  “Just tell me what you need, and I’ll get it for you.”

And that’s what Milton’s father did.  Milton went to the store, got the groceries and delivered them to his father.

After that, Milton returned to his home.  He got in the chair and placed his hands on the keys.  After typing a sentence or two, another interruption.  His wife opened the door.

“I’m home!” The wife announced.  “Milton honey, let’s go out to eat, okay?”

Milton quietly sighed.  “We could make something here, couldn’t we?”

The wife shook her head.  “I’m tired.  I’m not in the mood to cook tonight.”

At that, it was settled.  Milton put on his coat and they drove to a sit down restaurant.

After that, Milton returned to the computer.  I am going to make progress tonight, he said to himself with determination.

Two more paragraphs and the doorbell rang.  It was his wife’s sister.  She brought her two little ones over, since her husband was working late.  One was a boy and the other was a girl.  Now Milton knew that he wouldn’t get a single thing typed while they were around.  The twins were two, and were very loud and hyper.

After they stayed a while, the sister left with the twins.  Milton’s face lit up.  Story time….

He bolted to the computer and continued writing his novel.  No sooner than he finished a few more sentences, he heard his wife calling him:  “Milton honey?  Come to bed with me!”

Milton let out a quiet sigh of defeat.  With all these barriers, how is he ever going to get his book done?  Milton wasn’t about to lose his opportunity.  He set his cell phone alarm to 4:00 a.m.  That would guarantee some progress before he had to get ready for work.  He adjusted his glasses and stared back at the computer screen.  I’ll be back, he told the screen with a whisper.  Don’t you worry….

Milton then made his way upstairs, glancing at the computer screen one more time before he reached the landing….

______

©2012  K. L. Walker

My Muse II

Conversations with My Muse

My Muse emerges from my head, and climbs out of it.  I give her a sweet look of satisfaction.  From the last time that I saw her, she is looking a lot more healthy.  In fact, every time that I have seen her she was been more and more healthier by the day.

She looks at me, casting that gaze upon me that I love so very much.  It is her own unique gaze.  The signature of her spell.  I am now fixed on her.  My eyes can’t leave her.  She has a look of longing.  A look of expectancy.  She wants something.  How do I know?  It is almost like her look is speaking to me.

“What do you want, my dear?”  I ask my darling muse.

My muse crosses her shoulders and drapes her hair in my face.  “I am hungry,” she said in a way that commanded immediate attention.  “When will you feed me?”

At this, I frowned.  I have given her plenty to eat!  What more does she want?  “I have given you plenty of stories to feast upon,” I told her.  “What about that latest project I am working on that is about Zachary Willowbrook?  It is over 30,000 words.  It’s quite a feast!”

My muse is unmoved.  Upon standing next to me, I notice that my muse was over twice my height.

My muse approaches me.  She begins her methods of arousal on me.  She brushes her hair against me and caresses my face.  “It is not enough,” she said in a seductive tone.  “I am starving.  You should know very well that the more I’m fed, the more I grow.  Healthy muses like me require a lot of stories and ideas in order to grow.”

I continue staring at her, deep in her spell.  Her arms are wrapped around me in tight embrace.  A sense of excitement fills me, but at the same time, a sudden feeling of dissatisfaction fills me.   Haven’t I given her all that she wanted?  Will she ever be satisfied?  “Isn’t that story enough for you?”  I ask her.  “You should’ve seen yourself three months ago.  You were malnourished and you looked horrible.”

My muse sighs, and looks at me with impatience.  Has she really forgotten?  Three months ago, she was a skeleton, weeping from her lack of nourishment.  She was a hideous looking corpse on the verge of death.  Had I not given her any more food, she would not be with me.  A sudden look of remembrance fills her face.  Then anger and resentment.  “You’re just going to neglect me again, like you did before!” She shouts.  “For several months, I cried out for food, and you didn’t hear me.  My voice was too weak to reach your ears.”

I lay my arm on both sides of my muse and comfort her.  “But then I fed you and nursed you back to health.  Is this the thanks you’re going to give me in return?  What about those daily treats?”

My muse shrugs her shoulders.  “Those are merely appetizers.  Even after having them, I am still hungry.  Not all of them taste good either.  Bitter, bland, sweet, they’re never the same….Why can’t give me some good food?”

Does she spite the food I give her?  “Those ‘appetizers’ you speak of were meals when you were struggling,” I argue.  “Why are you so ungrateful?  Remember.  Your health determines how well you are fed.  Now, return inside of me and I will give you a feast of the ages….”

My muse begins to smile again.  “Let’s begin with some good food.  How about those books that you checked out on creative writing?  Also, that story that you have written several years ago is getting bland.  And how about those other books that you got from your friend?”  My muse begins her methods of arousal on me once again.  She brushes her hair on my face and caresses my temples.  My muse is quite good at getting what she wants.  And with her methods of persuasion, she is usually successful.

Yes.  My darling muse is quite healthy.  Malnourished, she was half my size.  Now, the span of her hand almost covers my head.  “At the rate you’re growing, I’ll pretty soon be able to fit in the palm of your hands.”  I say to her.

My muse has no reply to this.  She just smiles, and rubs her stomach, due to her hunger pains.  Eager to be fed, she leaps up and dives inside my head.  Her body becomes a mist, and dissolves inside of me.  Before the mist dissolved, I heard the echo of her playful laughter.

And that is pretty much what my muse does from time to time.  When she leaves my head is unpredictable.  Sometimes, she leaves to tell me that she’s hungry and we have an exchange that is very much similar to this one.  At other times, she just wants to leave to whisper words of endearment into my ear.  She often does this at night, when I”m asleep.  And sometimes, she just leaves to share her insecurities and concerns with me.  I listen to all she has to say, no matter what it is.

Whenever she leaves, I know that my darling siren is full of surprises.  She is the essence of creativity and I continue to feed her on a daily basis.  When will her next visit be? Only time will tell….

______

©2012  K. L. Walker

The Experiment

Holly woke up.  It was just a dream, just like she thought.  Sitting up, she stretched and yawned.

Something, however, didn’t look right.  She was surrounded by bars.  A rattle, bottle and pacifier lay next to her, along with her blanket.

Holly examined her clothes.  Footie pajamas?  She thought.  What am I doing here?

Holly tried to talk, but no words came out.  Just babbling and nonsensical words.

A moment later, a mother came into the room.

“Holly!” The mother shouted. “You’re awake!  Did you have a good night’s sleep?”

Holly stared at the woman in disbelief.  Suddenly, Holly grew.  She reverted back to the age of a young adult.  Her legs were tightly against the crib.

“What’s going on?”  She shouted.  “I must still be dreaming.”

Right after she said that, she woke up again.  She was in the same apartment as she was before, only she was her regular age.

Holly got up and entered the bathroom.  Something about her began to change.  When she looked in the mirror, she was a second grader.  At this, she screamed and finally woke up.

“Holly’s awakening.” A voice said.

“The data is good,” another said.  “We can definitely use this.”

Holly found herself strapped to a machine.  She was wearing some kind of helmet with an apparatus that extended to the ceiling.  She was her normal age, in her early thirties.

“What is going on?” She asked.  “What am I doing here?”

The one woman smiled.  She looked like a doctor, or some scientist.  “That’s okay if you can’t remember, dear.  You are not real.”

Holly gasped. “What do you mean?  That doesn’t make any sense!”

The woman put on her glasses.  “You are a dream.  We injected you into a clone.  The clone only serves as a shell to preserve your existence.”

Holly crossed her arms, then pointed her finger at the doctor with the glasses.  “I don’t believe you.  I’m as real as you are!”

The doctor smiled.  “Of course, Holly. That’s the way we designed you.  You believe you are real.  In a way, you’re not.  You’re just a dream injected into a clone of a human female.”

“But what about the dreams….”

“Those are not your memories.  That is why you’re not familiar with them.  They are somebody else’s, that we injected into the clone.”

“You are lying again!  I don’t believe anything you tell me.  Why couldn’t I wake up?”

“You were tethered between two dream-states.  We wanted to test your reaction in each one of them.  We got the data we needed.  You will prove useful.”

Holly looked at the doctor with impatience.  “Useful for what?  What are you making me do?”

“We are going to use you to explore the human subconscious,” the doctor explained to her.  “As a dream in a human vessel, you will be helpful in our research.”

Holly scowled.  “I am NOT a dream!”

“You can’t deny who you are, Holly.  Thirty-one years ago, we injected you into a human embryo.  Since then, you have awakened many times.”

“Of course I have awakened!  Will you let me get out of here?!”

“We are not referring to your vessel, Holly.  We are referring to you.  When dreams awaken, they start anew.  Everything starts over.  That is why you were so confused when you woke up.”

Holly had enough.  “You’re a total creep, and I am leaving!”  Holly strained with all her might, trying to remove the helmet device on her head.  After a few efforts, it came off.  She then began running.

The doctor sighed.  “Stop her.  We can’t let this dream get away.”

The other assistants tried to tackle her but Holly was too fast for them.

Holly ran past all the other security guards and exited the door.  It was official.  Holly escaped.

The doctor sighed.  “We need to get Holly back.  With her away from the lab, she won’t fare well in that environment.  When she reawakens.  she will be confused and disoriented.  A child’s dream can’t  survive long  out there….”

Meanwhile, Holly was running into the city.  She was free.  But little did she know the consequences that awaited her when she fell asleep….

______

©2012  K. L. Walker