Peter Grist - Flashback

“Hello Princess, I have missed you so much, but Daddy’s here now and we gonna go home to see your Momma, yes we are.” He lifted his head up and looked at the faces surrounding the grave and came to rest on a space where no one stood. He smiled and tilted his head as if listening, then nodded and searched the faces until he saw Ed’s. “We all three would like to thank you for what you’s done for us, you made our family complete once more,” he caught his breath, “and Esta says you paid your debt, no more bad dreams for you, no sir!” He coughed heavily and a thin spray of crimson was caught in the many beams of light shining across the grave. “Thank you, thank you all.” He smiled, stroked his daughter’s face and said “I love you baby.” then fell to the side. Linda, John and George jumped into the hole, mindful not to step on anyone. With Ed’s help from above, they pulled the giant out and to the side of the grave, his head resting on the mound of freshly excavated earth. Linda put her fingers to his neck then put her ear to his chest. Through the tears she couldn’t speak, she simply shook her head then sobbed even harder. Ed pulled her up and they hugged each other tightly.

When the heaving sobs became small sniffs, Ed lead Linda to the side of the clearing and sat her down on a fallen log. There they sat in silence until the noise of the woods began to re-enter their consciousness. For Ed Saunders, the first thing he was aware of was the noise the cricket was making that had jumped up onto the log next to him. It seemed to be looking directly at him and played his tune music vigorously with his back legs. Ed thought once again about that heart-breaking day in Vietnam, the last day he had ever fired a gun in anger, the sound of the crickets bringing it all back, so fresh and clear in his mind. But only briefly did he have time to dwell on that as the headache returned and his mind went white. It was Linda’s turn to hold onto Ed this time as she felt his body suddenly stiffen then go completely limp. She held him tight to stop him from toppling backwards off the log. “Now what the hell do I do?!” she thought to herself.

As Ed came to he immediately recognized where he was, he was at the Mountain View Motel and he was standing just outside of his room, room 14, but it clearly wasn’t 2010. Just the myriad of finned cars in the parking lot told him that he was back in 1962 once more. Two and three-toned cars almost filled the parking lot, sitting outside of a motel that had fresh pastel primrose paint on the walls and primary colour doors for the rooms. He looked around and spotted the sign to say the place was authorized by AAA and even a sign for a swimming pool, he was pretty sure that didn’t still exist in 2010 and had probably been filled in and built on. The big black shiny DeSoto sat in front of where he stood, looking low and menacing, a veritable rocket ship. As he stood there he could almost taste the smoldering electricity that filled the air, hinting of a thunderstorm not too far off in the hills. He looked to the sky but it was still clear blue, the sun still beating down the last of its heat for a late afternoon. But a storm was coming, oh yes, a big storm was just over the horizon.

He knew instinctively what he should do. He put his right hand into the pocket of his pants and pulled out a leather key fob that held the key to the DeSoto. He unlocked the door and climbed in. As soon as he turned on the ignition the radio came to life, blasting loud music at him. He quickly switched off the radio cutting Del Shannon’s Runaway off in mid wine.

“God I’m starting to hate Rock ‘N’ Roll!” he spat at the now quiet car radio. He turned the car key again and the engine rumbled into life. He knew exactly where he had to go. With a sense of urgency, he pushed the Drive button, let out the handbrake and hit the gas, with a spin of the rear tires the big Mopar car shot forwards and out on to the street narrowly missing a silver double-decked greyhound bus that honked his horn at Ed. Even driving at speed it still took him the best part of forty minutes to get where he wanted to be, on the lane leading past the sheriff’s land. As he slowed the car to a stop he could just make out the roof of the barn through the tops of the trees about one hundred and fifty yards to the left. The clock at the center of the steering wheel read ten off seven, and looking through the windscreen he guessed that was in the PM and not morning. There was still plenty of summer sun but it was low in the sky out to the west. He looked further and saw dark clouds rolling quickly towards him, obliterating the distant mountain range from view, the static electricity in the air smelled like burning plastic. Yep, there was definitely going to be a storm, and it was going to be a doozy!

He removed his right foot from the brake pedal and the car instantly started to trickle forward. He let the car idle up to the entrance to Rosen’s drive and swung the big wheel to the left. The car bumped in and out of the rutted tracks as it crossed onto the well-worn driveway. For a big V-8, the car hardly made a sound, just a soft burble from its twin exhausts as it swept stealthily nearer the ranch house. The trees and brush fell back as Ed entered the wide frontage of Rosen’s home. A black and white 1957 Ford four-door Police car was parked lengthways outside the main house and to the left, the beat up old Dodge pick-up truck that he had encountered on his first flashback was tail into the barn. Ed pushed the actuator button for neutral on the dash and the car rolled to a silent stop as he turned the ignition off. He pulled up the chrome door lever and eased out of the car. The only noise now was the slow ticking from the car as the engine cooled, and the screeching high above in the early evening deep blue sky as a bird of prey stalked its next victim. There was a small click as Ed pushed the door gently closed. He didn’t think there was much need for being covert as the black DeSoto was in plain view of anyone that walked out of the house or barn, so he quickly made his way towards the side of the barn nearest to him. As he neared he could hear the rhythmic crunch as a spade entered the earth and a grunt of exertion as it was pulled out. He made his way along the side of the wood panelling towards the front of the building and poked his head around the front. The left barn door was closed but the right was pulled wide open and the back of the old pick-up was just inside the structure with its tailgate down. He peeked over the side and into the bed to find to his relief it was empty. The shovelling noise stopped abruptly so Ed jumped back out of view with his back to the closed door. There was some more distant grunting then the digging continued. Ed crouched down and slipped around and into the barn. Long shadows stretched across the hard-packed earth. Three bare light bulbs hanging at intervals along the main roof beam struggled to spread light into the long disused stalls on either side. He could smell and almost taste the fading aroma of old leather, hay and lubricating oil of the old wooden structure. In the backs of the stalls, loose pieces of hay lay in small clumps, vying for space with the cobwebs and spiders, but other than a rusty oil can and the odd blunt farming tool, the stalls all seemed empty. Working his way stealthily from stall to stall, he made his way towards where the noise was coming from, the very back of the barn. He was very glad to see there was no velvet curtain hanging from the back wall and no wooden stage or alter. Ed was in the second to last stall on the left but still couldn’t see anything except the workbench at the back and to the right. There was no digging going on over there so he swiftly ran to the other side of the barn and crouched down into the opposite stall he had come from. This gave him a clear view of the back left-hand side of the building. The last stall was double width and in the center was a sturdy wooden trap door that measured some four-foot square. The clean, new pine contrasted with the darkened old wood of the barn wall that it lent upon. Stacked upright in the very corner was half a dozen hessian sacks full with what Ed could only imagine was the contents of the hole. A flickering light emanated from the access that the trap door covered, along with the grunts and sounds of earthworks. Slowly, he tiptoed towards the opening in the ground until he could just about see into the cavity. It looked to go about twelve foot down but seeing nothing, he came a little closer to the edge and looked down to see a youthful Johnny Rosen looking straight up at him.