Musings From A Demented Mind

  MUSINGS FROM A DEMENTED MIND

  BY

  DEREK AILES & JAMES COOM

  Copyright 2015 Derek Ailes

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  YES, MOTHER!

  GOLDEN AGE RETIREMENT HOME

  SIRENS OF LAKE STATION

  ALIEN TOWN

  HAUNTED ATTRACTIONS

  LITTLE TOWN FLIRT

  MASTER OF DISCONTENT

  THE KICK

  GAMES

  WHERE EVIL SHALL DWELL

  THE DOGS

  TRAVELERS

  BUZZ KILL

  A HORROR STORY

  LUMPS OF COAL

  ELVIS HAS LEFT THE DEAD

  TWISTED TWINS

  MARRIAGE ZQUALITY

  IN THE HOLLIES STYLE

  CLAWS VS MECHA CAT

  RASTUS, A WARRIOR’S QUEST

  SHELANA’S QUEST

  STORIES BEHIND THE DEMENTED MIND

  Dedicated to the memory of James Coon

  (July 5, 1952 – March 28, 2015)

  Musings From J.C.’s Mind

  Yes, Mother!

  Willis sat at his desk looking at the photo album filled with pictures of his mother who had passed away several days before. He finally, after several days of dealing with contacting all his relatives, planning the funeral, and burying her body, had a chance to think about how his life would be without her. He was fifty-two years old and for the first time in his life, he would have to live alone in his mother’s house. He had lived with his mother for the past twenty years. He had an ex-wife and two kids living in Nevada he hadn’t seen since the divorce, but kept in contact with them through Facebook and Skype. He stared at the stacks of comic books sitting by his bed. Behind them were several stacks of paperback books ranging from horror and science fiction to nonfiction dealing with alien abductions and haunted houses and graveyards. Next to those were years’ worth of magazines dealing with the unexplained and ghostly encounters.

  “Clean up this mess. You’re in your fifties. This isn’t a junk yard,” he could still hear his mother complain.

  “Yes, mother,” Willis responded like he did every time. This time there wasn’t anyone there to respond.

  He stared at the picture of his parents on their wedding day. He tried to hold back his tears realizing both of his parents were now reunited in the afterlife. The only family who lived close by was his sister, Gabby, who he barely spoke to. He turned to the page where his high school graduation pictures with his mother were. He was handsome back then with a clean shaven face and thin glasses. Now he had a large, unkempt, greying beard with thick glasses. He looked like he was a family member of the Duck Dynasty.

  “You should shave! You’re not a hobo!”

  “Yes, mother!”

  He looked toward the hallway expecting to see her staring at him, but there was nothing. All he could see was the large bookcase filled with all of her favorite romance novels. His sister wanted to take the books away, but he wouldn’t have it. All of his mother’s possessions were precious and there was no way anyone was going to take them away from the house. Those items were his mom’s treasures which made them his treasures.

  He closed the photo album and placed it to the left of his computer. He opened the writing program on the computer and worked on his science fiction novel he had been working on for several years. He wanted to finish it and get it published, but he could never keep his mind focused long enough to write more than a couple of pages a day.

  “Willis, are you on the computer again? Being naughty aren’t you? You should get a girlfriend! That’s what a normal person would do!”

  “Yes, mother!”

  He looked at the bookcase again wondering why he was hearing her voice when she no longer was there. He tried writing some more of his novel, but he couldn’t get the voice of his mother out of his head. He slowly stood up and walked out of his bedroom toward the kitchen. He grabbed a potato off of the kitchen table, which was filled with cans of food he had bought at the dollar store the other day, and put it in the microwave. As he waited for it to cook, he read the morning’s newspaper. As he heard the beeping from the microwave, he put the paper down.

  “Put the paper in the recycling bin when you’re done!”

  “Yes, mother!”

  After eating the potato, he walked back into his bedroom and grabbed a paperback off the stack of books he hadn’t read yet. He read several chapters and put the book down as he heard someone pounding on his wall. He slowly got up and walked into the living room, but no one was there. He heard the pounding coming from his bedroom and when he walked into it no one was there. He could hear the pounding again coming from the living room, but no one was there.

  “Who is knocking on the walls?”

  No one answered.

  He sat down on his chair in the living room and turned on the television. He watched the news station until he dozed off. When he awoke, he could see sunlight through the faded blue curtains. He had slept the whole night through on his chair. He slowly pulled himself out of the chair and walked toward the bathroom. All the romance novels were scattered on the floor in front of the bookcase. He kneeled down and placed them neatly back onto the bookcase. All of his other stacks of books in his bedroom were still standing. He stared at the bookcase trying to figure out how those books fell off it.

  He slowly walked up the stairs leading to his mother’s bedroom. On her bed was one of her romance books with her favorite bookmark of a cat hanging from a rope. He looked in shock since there wasn’t anything on her bed the day before.

  “Mother?” he said, slowly stuttering.

  No answer.

  He walked out of her bedroom and into the bathroom hoping a soothing bath would clear his head. He tried to reassure himself he was imagining things and the book had been on the bed, and he just hadn’t noticed it before.

  “Make sure you clean the soap scum out of the tub when you’re done!”

  “Yes, mother!”

  After his bath, he scrubbed the tub and walked into his bedroom. He got on the internet and checked his Facebook page. It was filled with condolences from some of his friends who had recently learned of his mother’s passing. He checked on the statuses of his children and then went on a website dealing with hauntings of loved ones. According to the website, it was common for loved one’s spirits to linger around their homes after death, but only a few people possessed the ESP ability to sense their presence. He always felt a strange presence when he visited someone’s house like there was someone else there besides those he could see. It was worse when he visited cemeteries. He always sensed there was something paranormal haunting them which was one of the reasons why he became obsessed with books about ghosts and haunted houses.

  He was startled by the sound of someone knocking on the front door. He slowly pulled himself out of the chair and walked into the living room. He looked out the window and saw his sister standing on the porch. He stood there debating if he should answer the door for fear she was going to try to take some of his mother’s belongings.

  “She’s your sister! Answer the door!”

  “Yes, mother!” he said as he opened the door.

  His sister stared at him for a few seconds and spoke, “I thought you were going to leave me standing out here all day.”

  “I thought about it. What do you want?”

  “I was in the neighborhood, and I stopped by to check on you.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Can I come in?”

  He turned around.

  “Is there someone in here with you?”

  He turned back around. “No, why do you ask?”

  “It looked like y
ou were waiting for someone to give you permission.”

  “Sorry, habit. I’m used to making sure mother was decent for company. Come in.” He walked over to his chair and sat down.

  “I met with our lawyer about mom’s will. As we all expected, she left you the house. She left me all of her collectibles in the display cases.”

  “Gabby, those are mom’s collectibles,” he said in shock. “They belong in her house.”

  “I want them. You get everything else in the house. I want those. I want something to remember her by.”

  “No, you’re probably going to sell them for money!” He quickly jumped out of his chair like he had the strength from when he was in his teens. Gabby sat back in fear. His hands were shaking like he could attack her in his present mindset.

  “I don’t need any money. Mom left both of us plenty of money. See for yourself.” She handed him a copy of their mother’s will. “She took care of us.”

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said, regaining his composure. “I’m just afraid if her things leave this house, I’ll begin to forget her.” He put his hands over his face trying to stop himself from crying. “Just take them now.”

  “I brought some egg boxes from the grocery store. I’ll go get them.” Gabby walked out of the house to her car.

  “You made the right decision.”

  “Yes, mother,” he said softly, staring at the display cases.

  Several hours after Gabby left with all the collectibles from the display cases, Willis sat at the kitchen table eating a bowl of beef stew and listening to a soundtrack score to one of his favorite horror movies. Once he was finished eating, he walked to his bedroom to read until it was time to go to bed. As he was dozing off, he placed the book on his nightstand and turned off the light. As he was sleeping, he began to feel like something heavy was pushing down on his chest. He snapped awake. Above him was a large, black apparition with glowing red eyes. He tried to move, but he was paralyzed. The paralysis was not from fear. He was not frightened by the apparition. Something was keeping him from moving, as if an invisible force was holding him down. Even in the darkness, he recognized the apparition’s face. It was the face of his mother. The apparition stared down at him for several minutes before vanishing. As it vanished, he could feel the pressure lessening on his body. He slowly crawled out of bed and turned on the light. He grabbed the towel he kept by the side of the bed just in case he got sick and couldn’t make it to the bathroom at night, and wiped the sweat off his forehead. He knew he hadn’t dreamed about the apparition. It was real.

  He sat down in front of his computer. He felt all of his sadness leave his body, replaced with a sense of happiness knowing he was being haunted, not by some evil spirit, but by his mother. He sat down and for two days straight he wrote, only stopping to eat and go to the bathroom, and continued writing his science fiction novel until it was finally completed. Once he was satisfied the book was the best he could write it, he wrote one final sentence. I dedicate this novel to my loving mother. I know she will be with me always. I will never forget her.

  With his dedication finished, he emailed his novel to his friend who worked at a publishing company and who had promised his novel would make it to print once he finally completed it. He lay down on his bed and closed his eyes. A couple of hours later he felt a sharp pain in his chest and when he opened his eyes, his mother was standing next to his bed all dressed in white with a bright light behind her.

  “Willis, it is time to take you home,” she said with a smile and helped him out of the bed.

  With his hand in her’s, he said, “yes, mother,” and followed her into the light.

  Golden Age Retirement and Rehabilitation Center

  Evan stared at the tiny television screen attached to the wall across from him at the Golden Age Retirement and Rehabilitation Center, watching the William Shatner episode of the Twilight Zone where the creature was on the wing of the plane. Four weeks prior, he had his left leg amputated a few inches below his knee. His doctor warned him if he didn’t have the amputation, he would be dead within the month. He was staying in the rehabilitation wing of the retirement home waiting for his leg to heal so his doctor could fit him for an artificial leg. The only thing he felt like doing besides watching television was reading several murder mysteries.

  He looked toward the window trying to see if the sun was shining, but the only thing he could see was the damn concrete fountain outside. He wanted to go outside and breathe some fresh air and go to the store and gets some real snacks. The type that would cause his sugar to spike high. He was diabetic and the diabetes was out of control. He took multiple pills to keep his sugar lowered. Hell, his whole tote bag was one giant medicine cabinet. He had a taste for some lemon ice tea and a candy bar. Maybe some microwave popcorn would do the trick. The snacks he was provided there were as tasteless as cardboard. Plain rice cakes probably tasted better.

  He heard a rasping noise from the bed adjacent to his. Melvin, who recently suffered a stroke, was gasping for air. Evan pressed the call button for the nurse and a minute later Breanne, the heavyset African American nurse, walked in. He pointed over at the other bed and the nurse, hearing him gasping, rushed over to him. She quickly ran out of the room and a few seconds later, two other nurses along with one of the doctors ran in.

  “I think he’s having another stroke,” Evan said as she pulled his curtain around blocking his view of them working on Melvin.

  After a few minutes, he heard the doctor say he was stabilized. He felt a sigh of relief. The last thing he wanted was to stay in the same room where another patient had died. He recalled the night when he felt chest pains and managed to drive himself to the hospital. It was there his doctor decided he needed the amputation done urgently.

  The nurse pulled his curtain back.

  “He’s ok.”

  “I knew something didn’t sound right.”

  “I’m glad you paged me or he may have died,” Breanne said. “Now I think it’s time for you to take your meds.”

  “You might as well bring me a gallon of water to wash them down.”

  “It’s not that many.”

  “Then why do I tell the pharmacist to give me one of everything each time I go Walgreens?”

  “It’s good to have a sense of humor. It helps with the recovery.” With a smile, she handed him a cup with all his medications.

  “Bottoms up,” he said and began to swallow each of the pills followed by plenty of water. “Do I need to lift my tongue up and prove I swallowed them?”

  “This isn’t a psych ward.”

  “Can you bring me some microwave popcorn?” he asked as she was walking out of the room. “I guess that would be a no.”

  The next couple of hours were uneventful and he felt really bored. After eating dinner, he slid off the bed into his wheelchair and wandered into the hallway. He saw Kenner, another patient, sitting outside his room having a conversation with himself about the Vietnam War and how he avoided being drafted.

  “Kenner, Vietnam ended decades ago.”

  “What!”

  Evan shook his head as he wheeled past him. He passed the dining area and headed for the Pepsi machine past the kitchen. He put a dollar in and pressed the button for a Pepsi. He looked around making sure no nurses were around to witness him drinking a sugary soda. As he was about to finish the soda, he heard a buzzing noise coming from the back hallway where his room was located. He threw the can into the garbage and quickly pushed his wheelchair forward to see what was happening. As he rounded the corner, he saw a nurse bringing Kenner back in through the glass door at the end of the hallway.

  “Who forgot to lock the door?” the head nurse asked angrily.

  “I must have,” Shelly, the short and petite brunette nurse who Evan had passionate dreams about each night, said. “I went out for a smoke and apparently forgot to lock it.”

  “Shelly, I can’t allow this to go unpunished. You are suspended for a week. F
rom now on, nobody uses this door for any reason. It will remain locked.”

  Shelly tried to hide her face as she passed by Evan. He stared at her cute, tight behind as she disappeared down the hallway.

  “Great, one less thing to look at for a week.”

  He wheeled himself back toward his room.

  “I almost got away,” Kenner laughed as a nurse pushed him past Evan.

  “Almost.” Evan said as he returned to his room to read another book.

  The next morning, Breanne brought him a plate of turkey and mashed potatoes. He lifted up his plate and, trying to sound like Oliver Twist, said “Please sir, I want some more.”

  With a laugh she said. “You try that bit on me every morning.”

  “I could really use some more potatoes.”

  “That’s one serving exactly. Remember, your strict diet.”

  “My pills are more filling than this.”

  “And less calories,” she said as she left.

  He looked over at the daily newspaper and thought about adding some fiber to his meal. He looked up at the television and the channel was still in the middle of a Twilight Zone marathon. They were showing the episode where Roddy McDowall crash lands on Mars, which was one of his favorites.

  After watching several more episodes, he climbed into his wheelchair and went for a stroll of the facility. Kenner was down the hall having a conversation with the Invisible Man or a ghost possibly. As he got closer, he could hear him talk about some secret experiment going on over at the retirement wing of the building. Kenner nodded repeatedly as if someone was talking back. Evan shook his head as he wheeled past him.

  In the dining area, a priest was leading the morning sermon to a group of the elderly residents of the retirement wing. He stopped and listened and after the closing prayer, he continued on with the stroll. Every doctor and nurse said hello to him as they passed. Once he was to the front, he asked if he could go outside. As one of the nurses pressed the button, the automatic doors opened outward and he rolled outside. The nurse followed him outside and walked to the end of the sidewalk to have a smoke. The sky was cloudy and it looked like a thunderstorm was on the way. There was a refreshing chill to the air and he was happy to be outside enjoying it. He had been experiencing cabin fever and the chill was somewhat of a temporary cure.