Chapter 1
I couldn’t run anymore. He, also, stopped and gasped for air, his narrow, concave chest heaving noisily. His voice, low and raspy, growled, ‘Wherever you go I’ll follow. You’ll never, never get rid of me.’
I backed up. ‘But why? What have I done now?’
‘You know and you’re glad of it. You disgust me.’
I was incredulous, ‘I disgust you?’
He reached out for me, his fingers long and gnarled, nails sharp and grimy. He hated me. But why? What had I done? I was sickened by him, sickened and terribly frightened. (What kind of a dream was this?) His mouth exuded a nauseous odor of the rotting flesh that was stuck between his sharp, yellow teeth. Despite my fear I leaned forward and squinted. Pus and black blood squeezed out of deep cracks in his wide, wrinkled lips. And just at that moment he burped up a greenish-brown, foul stench. I gagged and held my shaking hand over my nose and mouth. My large, empty stomach heaved and contracted.
The moonlight, previously hidden behind one black cloud, illuminated pustules, welts and scars on his thin, maggot-white body. I shivered in revulsion. He stood so close to me that if I just raised my hand I could touch him.
Just as I thought this, he touched me. His fingers caught on my thin dress and it fell to the moist earth. Oh God! I suddenly saw my fat, ugly body. I tried to cover my nakedness with my tiny hands, but they disappeared in the deep folds surrounding my stomach. He reached out to touch my body, his nail drawing a line from my breast to my maiden hair, and I exclaimed in revulsion, ‘Get away from me!’ for I knew that though I disgusted him he would, first, do to me what was absolutely abhorrent. And yes, he fell on me and pushed me to the ground. His cold and repulsive body wrapped itself around me like a python. The stench of him assailed my nostrils and the countless open sores dabbed thick pus on me. I was frantic to get away from him so, holding my breath, I opened my mouth and bit down on his puny biceps. He yelped and loosened his hold on me, enough so I could scramble up to run to the forest behind me, but my foot snagged a root and I fell on soft, musty soil. As I tried to stand the soil gave way and eager fingers from beneath clawed, grasped and pulled me under. With my remaining strength I pushed to the surface. Gasping for air, I screamed, for the thing - the horror – had crawled over to me. He sat back on his bony haunches, idly wiped away some pus that had oozed from his lips, crossed his wrinkled arms over his protruding ribs, and leaning forward, shouted something obscene, I’m sure. But the sucking and slapping sounds around me thankfully obscured his words.
Just as I took a large breath, the fingers pulled me back under. They dragged me down, down. I glanced up as the feeble moonlight began to fade and I could just make out his ugly face dipping beneath the ooze and mouthing ‘It’s not over!’
Just as I realized that I had to get some air or die, warmth engulfed me in its strong arms. It kissed every inch of me. I began to consider suffocating as long as this, this thing held me.
Just as I made the decision to drown, a gnarled hand grabbed my hair and pulled me back up, away from the warmth. I began to scream but I only inhaled mud. I began to die…
Chapter 2
The horror of the nightmare that had invaded her more harmless dreams two or three times a year began to subside, though with it, the delicious ending. The paralysis that had kept her head on her pillow, her body in the middle of the bed and tangled in her satin sheets, slowly weakened. She reached over her head and spread the thick curtains. The feeble morning light shot daggers through her brain. She closed her eyes and began to rub them but the inside of her lids were like sandpaper. Dragging her cottony tongue slowly over her lips, she tried to remember the night before but after a long moment she exclaimed anxiously, “I can’t remember!” She pushed herself up to a sitting position and immediately grabbed her head. A ‘shit’ escaped her. Slowly, she pushed her bare legs over the side of her bed. She looked down at her rose-colored, satin pillow – oh, how inviting. How she wanted to go back to sleep! But she rarely called in sick and now wasn’t one of those times. Besides, she would be the sole employee at the restaurant for at least an hour so whom would she call?
Her bare feet lowered to the soft nap of her carpet, and she shuffled toward the bathroom. She turned the light on but immediately turned it back off. Squinting in the dimness of the room, she attempted to examine herself in the large mirror over the sink but the bathroom was too dark. She hurried back out to her bedroom and approached the mirror above her dresser – “My eyes, they’re red… puffy and,” she stuck out tongue, “Oh God, it’s white! What happened last night?” Her almond eyes opened wide. “My God, did I do anything to be embarrassed about this morning?” She returned to the bathroom, stripped off her nightgown and put her long, mahogany hair up in a loose bun. She turned the knob of the shower to ‘cold,’ and squaring her shoulders and holding her breath, she stepped in. As the cold water hit her, she exclaimed, “Carol! I remember Carol and… some restaurant…and… being somewhere else and her walking out the door with a guy and…“
She felt better, less anxious, after the fog partially lifted from her brain. After drying her slim body and after dressing in a coral silk blouse, flowery blue cotton skirt and mismatched sandals she took the two steps up to the kitchen, made herself an espresso and sat at her oblong dining room table that was on the same level as the kitchen, the little cup to her lips. The caffeine from the cup of strong coffee rushed to her head. Everything became clearer. While sipping her coffee, she stood and gazed out appraisingly at her beautiful living room. “Cozy and at the same time elegant. I have my grandmother to thank for most of the furnishings. Of course a man sitting over there in his loosely-tied, silk dressing gown barely covering a ripped, naked body would make it even cozier and even more elegant.” She had to admit that she was lonely. Had been lonely everywhere she had gone. She hadn’t stayed in one place or given herself enough time to make friends, male or female. What was wrong with her?
Chapter 3
When she pulled into Fiore’s empty parking lot she turned off the engine of her Rav-4 and sat back, gazing at the restaurant fondly. The building was painted a soft apricot. Ivy crawled up the sides. Yellow and purple lantana and vivid crimson ice plants hugged the front of the restaurant. Two scarlet bougainvilleas grew up the sides of a white trellis that framed the front door while tall cypresses flanked either side of the building. In a short time she, as manager, had made so many changes inside and out that a previously unimpressed restaurant critic gave it another try and his delightful experience earned Fiore a mention in the Los Gatos Gazette.
She unlocked the side door. Before entering she looked up at the slightly cloudy sky. Well, cloudy or not, it’s probably going to be a scorcher. It was cool inside. She always felt that she had just entered a strange world where no human beings as yet existed but her. She tiptoed almost soundlessly down the dark hallway that led past her office, past the beautifully redone male and female bathrooms and out to the dark lounge and up the one step to the beautiful dining room.
Soon after she became manager at Fiore she had decided that it needed to be totally revamped. It wouldn’t be the Italian cafe of old so the first change she made inside was to paint over the cheesy frescoes on the ceiling and install recessed lighting. The walls, as well as the ceiling, had been repainted a light cinnamon and four wall sconces and four modern paintings decorated them. The cold, gray flagstones on the floor had been covered with a beige and mauve carpet. The red and white checked tablecloths went the way of the carpeting and were replaced with new, off-white tablecloths. The restaurant’s padded chairs were crimson, a color that reminded her of the two chairs and loveseat in her late grandmother’s beautiful condominium on San Francisco’s Nob Hill. Even the music was changed from modern Italian to classical. The new menus promoted exquisite, continental dishes for which their world-class chef was famous. Every day
