Heat Stroke
A woman's long day takes a strange turn...
Laura was finally home after a long day at the office and she was exhausted. She struggled with the bag of groceries in her hands while rummaging through her purse for the keys. It was just that type of day she was having: of course her car wouldn’t start. She looked at her car and she decided to walk home, regretting it now with the Texas summer heat beating down on her. Halfway home she was drenched with sweat. All she wanted to do was get home and get inside. She unlocked the door and kicked it closed behind her. She set the bag down on the kitchen table. Laura took a deep breath and fell out in the chair taking great pleasure in the cool breeze from the AC. The house was extremely quiet with the exception of the ceiling fan chords clanging together from the vibration of the blades spinning at the highest speed possible.
“Laura.” A voice whispered throughout the house. “Laura, I am outside. Laura?”
Laura at this point was on edge with the mysterious yet somehow familiar voice. She looked out the peephole but was unable to see anything. Before she opened the door, she grabbed the bat behind the door; the best home defense system that she had ever invested in. As she opened the door, she was prepared to swing. As she flung the door open, no one was there. She looked down both sides of the street. When she started to close the door she looked down to see a brown paper package. Laura noticed that all that was printed on the address was just her first name. The postmark was normal but how could it get delivered if there was no address on the package. Picking up the package she looked one more time down each side of the street. She backed into the house and closed the door. She placed the bat back in its rightful place. She sat the package on the counter and realized that she had still not put the groceries up. With everything going on, she completely forgot. As she started to take everything out of the grocery bag, she caught something moving in the corner of her eye. When she turned to look, all that was there was that mysterious box in the brown paper. Laura convinced herself that her mind was playing tricks on her because of being out in the Texas heat. As she continues to put things away, she had an odd feeling that she was being watched. Then, once again, she saw something move out of the corner of her eye. Laura stared at the package as she put the lettuce in the crisper. Laura did not take her eyes off of the package. Then the package moved. Laura startled at the sight of this package coming to life. She slammed the fridge door with a hard thud. Laura slowly backed away while the box slowly seemed to be trying to get to the edge of the counter. She calmly opened the drawer by the sink and grabbed a big chef’s knife. Her mind was racing at the possibilities of what was in the package. She then started to think what if someone put an animal in there. But the box didn’t seem to have any holes for any animal to be able to breathe.
As Laura approached the package to cut it open, it started to tremble as if it was scared of Laura and the knife. Laura tried to grab the box but the box decided it wasn’t going to stick around. The little package jumped off the counter and onto the floor and started to run. Laura chased the oddly running box. The pursuit was as crazy as a Scooby-Doo cartoon chasing the bad guys. Out of breath, she cornered the package and it once again started to tremble.
“Ok, box look. I am putting the knife down.” Laura said as she slowly set the knife on the floor. The box sat there still now that the assumed threat was eliminated. Laura approached the box little by little, waiting for the box to move but it was as lifeless as it should be. She picked it up and sat down at the kitchen table. There wasn’t anything special about the package. It was as ordinary as any brown paper-wrapped package could be. She decided to go ahead and open the package. “I am going to go ahead and open you. Are you going to give me any problems?” The box slowly shook left to right.
Laura began unwrapping the package. She peeled off layer after layer of brown paper. The kitchen floor was covered. She again heard her name called. At this point, she knew it was the package that was calling to her. As she tore off the last piece of brown paper, there seemed to be a scent in the air of soft vanilla. As she began to remove the tape, there was a glow starting to shine through the cracks in the box. She opened the box and a brilliant bright light filled the room. “Lauraaaaa” the box called. The box opened up and started to pull all the light and all the paper back inside. And then it just disappeared, along with Laura.
~By Tia Dalu Souhrada
07/26/2021
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RePEARing The Past
There it was. The pear tree. The first gift that was given in the famous Christmas song, “The Twelve Days of Christmas.” But the last gift my father ever gave me was pears from the pear tree that grew in the backyard of the family home. I hadn’t been home in over twenty years. Hundreds of miles between us were not the only distance that was between us. It also was a very strained relationship. But they were still my family. I stood outside the beaten-down house and thought back to the very first days our family moved into this small town and stepped foot into this house. This place was no longer home. Just a haunted symbol of my past. After my parents died the house was taken by foreclosure. It took years to find the new owner and purchase back the property. I thought I could let it go. I thought that it was for the best. I hated that town. I hated the people in it that made my life hell. That made me feel ashamed of who I was and how I looked. They bullied me in so many ways. It is not even conceivable why. You would never once think that an entire town was capable of being a bully. It was what it was. Don’t get me wrong, there were some great people in that town. But most of them were treated the same way as I was. Just because we weren’t from there or looked different, didn’t have any relations with anyone there. Just a bunch of outsiders that moved in and were trying to make a life. I held on to this resentment that I had because my parents moved us there. It was a town that was my jail. No wonder the first chance I got, I escaped and never once came back. Over the years, I kept thinking of the house, more of the moments that were spent as a family. It wasn’t the house itself that kept me focused on the property. It was the pear tree that my dad had planted. The rose bushes. The apple trees. His passion was to grow things. He put a little bit of his life into planting and growing these. It was a part of him. It was a part of us as a family. It was a part of me. It had been seven years that had gone by. I had won the lottery and the first thing that came to mind was this place. Which for some reason still had a hold of me. It was then I decided that I was going to buy back the place and turn it into a memorial park. There in the center was the two pear trees that to me represented my parents. Because you can’t just have one to produce fruit. You have to have two. And that was what represented my mother and father. Because without them there wouldn’t have been us. I had a bench with their name engraved in it built to put in the front. My parents would not go unknown. I stood there and looked at the house and the property. There had been no upkeep done at all. Everything was overgrown and the years had not been kind. I jingled the keys in my hand and walked up the steps and unlocked the door. As the door opened, I was overtaken by nostalgia. I walked through the house to every room. As the remembrance of memories flooded my mind of what once was. Touching the little things that only I knew once were. The last thing I looked at was the wall in the dining room. There was an imprint of where the family portrait once was hung. I touched the wall and left my hand there for a brief moment. Wishing that things could have been different. Wishing that time could erase the hurt I was feeling and the regret that I wasn’t there in the end. Tears began to surface in my eyes. I removed my hand. This was my final chance for closure. I fought back the tears as I heard machinery outside. And with that. I said my final goodbye. The bulldozer was there and the rest of the construction crew. “Please wait for me to leave before you begin,” I said with a very shaky voice. I got in my car and looked back one last time. That is when I saw the sign. “PAIR TREE FAMILY PARK”. Below it stated, "a place where you will never be alone." I took in a deep breath and started the car. And with that, I finally put the past to rest.
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