Extinguishing Dreams ch 32

32.1

He awoke the next morning and his head felt like it had been gang-banged by a party of drugged up bikers. Once again he had wet himself, only this time; his dream had not been the cause. He was actually quite impressed that he was still breathing and had not succumbed to alcohol poisoning; just give it time he thought.2

As he sat up and realised where he was and that it was pitch black outside, he tried to piece the previous days events together. It was not long before he recalled, his wife – in name only – had snatched their child along with the last traces of hope for their relationship. He wondered if she had returned, a quick glance at the wall mounted clock informed him it was now three AM, if she had not returned there were only a few places she could be.3

Making his way towards the stairs he slipped on something and came crashing down to the floor. Luckily his elbows took most of the strain and he was able to avoid cracking his head on the kitchen floor tiles. As he lay there slightly dazed and rubbing his bruised elbows he felt something thick and sticky against his neck. In a panic he realised he must have hit an artery, there was so much of it. Strangely he only felt pain from his elbows which were throbbing incessantly. The shock of his injury almost caused him to black out. He must get something to wrap tightly around the wound and if his energy levels permitted, he needed to get to the phone and call for help. 4

Matt’s eyes surveyed the kitchen from his angle on the floor for a tea towel or something he could use to ebb the flow of blood from his neck. He wondered how tight he would have to tie the makeshift tourniquet to prevent the life-blood flowing from his body. What if he ended up asphyxiating himself, the thought amused him. Here he was lying on the floor about to meet his maker unless he could somehow stop the flow of blood spewing forth from his carotid artery and he was laughing.5

That would be just his luck, he could see the coroner’s report in his mind’s eye, body found with severe laceration to Superior thyroid and Ascending pharyngeal artery – cause of death: self-induced strangulation. Now he was laughing again, a faint laugh that was soon replaced by a gentle sobbing as he thought of the fact he may never see his beautiful daughter again. Of all the times his harridan-devil-bitch-wife had to leave, it would be the bloody time he slipped on something and punctured his own neck – she always was one for timing he thought. 6

Ten minutes of so had past since his slip and he now lay unmoving. With a shaky hand, he traced his fingers back to the wound. It appeared to have clotted. Strange he thought, surely such a thing would not clot by itself? He could feel a flap of skin loosely attached; it felt wrinkly and hard; unlike human skin that he had even felt. He brushed his index finger against it cautiously, afraid that if he removed it, the torrent of blood would be released. Curiosity got the better of him however and he gave the bit of skin a slight tug. It came free from his neck with ease and suddenly he was terrified.7

Using all of the strength left in his near lifeless vessel. Matt made a bolt for the telephone, he had to dial the emergency services; get an ambulance sent over immediately. It was stood by the phone, with the receiver in one hand that he realised what had happened. There was no one around for Matt to feel shame in front of but his face grew immediately red. His ‘wound,’ was nothing more than bean juice from the discarded breakfast he had launched against the wall earlier on. The ‘flap of flesh,’ the coagulated scab that had self healed and prevented him from bleeding to death, was nothing more than a piece of bacon – Wiltshire, dry cure, oak smoked, maple, finest. 8

Soon his embarrassment was replaced by laughter and he wiped the tomato juice from his neck with a j-cloth. He then ate the bacon; he almost felt cannibalistic and this notion increased the intensity of his laughter. 9

It was some time before he retrieved his AWOL composure and remembered he was on his way to see if Hailey and Laura had returned whilst he slept. As his composure returned, Matt felt the hangover come back with it. It seemed to come in waves; it had been this way ever since he had left University. He did not graduate but always thought of his hangovers as some sort of ironic graduation present – you get out of your education what you put in.10

Examination of the house found nothing. They had not returned and Matt found himself thinking back to the strange answer phone messages Laura had recorded on her mobile. He racked his brains, trying desperately to recollect their message, or at least the rough contents of them. He recalled something about truth disappearing and was it just the drink, or did she mention something about humanity being replaced by insects? That sounded a bit obscure when he thought about it, but something told him that was what he had heard. Matt was just about to call her again when he remembered she had left him a voice message. He checked his phone and sure enough there was one message sent at the time he remembered Laura calling. He listened carefully to the message but this time all he could here was static. He phone must be on the blink – he had fallen hard on the kitchen floor with it in his pocket – bloody typical.11

He decided to call her phone again and double check what the message was. As he dialled the number, fragments of his wife’s message came back to him. He could hear her voice in his mind, it sounded strange – distant, he could hear the words ‘and so disappears the most beautiful, the most immediate breath of life,’ what did that mean? It sounded somehow finite, was she intimating she was going to kill herself? He was aware she had been out of sorts recently, but surely depression had not hit her that hard? Suddenly he got a lump in his throat, if that was her intention, why had she taken Hailey with her? Would she make her watch? Did she want someone to enter the other side with? He cursed himself for thinking such thoughts and set his mind back to calling her.12

The phone rang straight through to answer phone and Matt prepared to deconstruct the cryptic message. “Hello, this is Laura’s phone, sorry but I am unavailable at the moment, but if you would like to leave your name and number, I will get back to you as soon as possible.” What the F? Where was the previous message? Surely he had not imagined it, but then he recalled the message he had received, the one with a Descartes quote - ‘Whatever I have accepted until now as most true has come to me through my senses. But occasionally I have found that they have deceived me, and it is unwise to trust completely those who have deceived us even once.’13

Could his senses be at it again? Matt was genuinely struggling to differentiate reality from fallacy; waking life from dreamscape. Just to be sure he was awake now he pinched himself, and it hurt, to be doubly sure he knocked his bruised elbows together – yes he was definitely awake. As Matt returned to the kitchen he noticed something on the table, something that was definitely not there before he left to make the phone call. It was a card, the ones made by the strange gentleman he had met in the park. The thought that he had entered Matt’s house once more and without permission made his blood boil. Grasping the card in his hand he bolted outside and scoured the garden for traces of this unwelcome visitor. He could find no sign; the old man was obviously quicker than he looked to have escaped unnoticed in a matter of minutes. 14

Matt cursed loudly, vowing that if he ever caught the man, he would wish he were dead, he had fucked with the wrong man etc. Matt realised he had been screaming these obscenities in his garden and it was nearly four in the morning. He was alerted to this fact when he noticed the lights from his neighbours coming and quickly retreated back into house – unwilling to face their questioning at present.15

Once back in the kitchen, Matt examined the card. The thought hit him that perhaps the old man had something to do with his wife and child’s disappearance, but that was unlikely. The two events, despite overlapping were unrelated and besides, what could a geriatric old coot do to overpower his athletic wife – the answer was nothing. Nevertheless, Matt wondered if it would be possible to run a fingerprint check on the card to see if he could find out the source of its origin. Of course he thought this after he had spread his own prints all over the card probably disguising the old man’s. In any event, the police would probably be uninterested in someone who aside from breaking and entry, only crime was to leave elegantly designed cards with cryptic messages from dead philosophers. Undoubtedly, the police would simply believe Matt was crazy and in fairness, they would have a good case.16

Matt opened the card and read the message out loud “I am accustomed to sleep and in my dreams to imagine the same things that lunatics imagine when awake.” He could not be sure unless he checked online, but this message seemed to fit the bill of yet another Rene Descartes quote. This message seemed to be mocking him, insinuating he was a lunatic, perhaps he was but who was this man to pass judgment; what right did he have to involve himself in Matt’s personal affairs?17

As hard as it was, Matt had to put this to one side. It was only four-thirty in the morning but there was no way he could relax unless he felt he was doing something to locate the whereabouts of his daughter. He decided to call his mother-in-law. She would no doubt be pissed at being disturbed so early, but Matt needed to know if she had seen or heard from Laura and his daughter.18

After a few rings a sleepy and evidently cranky old voice answered “Do you have any idea what time it is? This had better be important!” Matt gulped back his nerves, Laura’s mother had always had a soft spot for him, she was eternally in his debt for reuniting her with her daughter, but Matt had always had the feeling that this tough women of the world, could snap and make his life a misery if she so wished. “Mum…erm…it’s me, Matt…sorry to call at this unearthly hour, it is just…well not just…just implies this is nothing…I can assure you I would not disturb you at this hour…or any hour for nothing…” Matt knew he was rambling, but somehow could not get the words out in a succinct fashion, “It’s Laura, have you seen her? She left...took Hailey with her…” Matt glanced at the clock before adding “yesterday morning…it must have been whilst I was sleeping as they were gone by the time I woke…I suppose she is trying to get back at me…is she with you?” His mother-in-law was silent for a few seconds, probably trying to will her mind out of its nightly hibernation that had been cut short “No Matt, I have not seen her, I have not even heard from her since I left your place. She has probably checked into a hotel or something, she always was a stubborn one, don’t hold it against her, she just needs some thinking time. Try to get some sleep, she’ll be home in the morning and you two can sort things out.” With that she hung up the phone and Matt decided to drink himself to sleep, that seemed to be the only option.19