Category: Fiction Factor

Minnie Milton fidgeted nervously on the couch, occasionally glancing up at the colorful, abstract artwork on the wall across from her – but rarely looking Dr. Nelson in the eyes.

It was her first time to attend couples therapy with this particular counselor, and she was having difficulty getting comfortable with a new face in a new space.

“Mrs. Milton, I realize we don’t know each other well, and I can certainly understand how it might be difficult to open up,” said Nelson, leaning back in his leather chair. “But listen … we have a full hour for this first session, so let’s just ease into things, OK? No pressure, no expectations.”

Minnie said her husband, Carl, refused to attend the first meeting, which was part of their problem.

“Any time I tell him we need to see someone about our issues, he always has an excuse,” she explained. “Usually it’s work, and he’ll tell me it’s something that’s time sensitive and has to be dealt with right then. When I say work can wait, he’ll say things like, ‘the car won’t pay for itself,’ or the ‘house won’t pay for itself,’ … things like that.”

Dr. Nelson scribbled on his notepad and nodded.

“Let’s put all that aside for a moment,” he said. “Just walk me through a typical day – a typical work day.”

“Well, we get up around 5 a.m., and neither one of us are much on breakfast so usually we just drink coffee. Whoever gets to the kitchen first makes the pot and we have two cups each. And then I’ll sit on one end of the couch and he’ll sit on the other, and we’ll play word games on our phones for, oh, about an hour or so. Then after that we both go to work. We’re both involved in acquisitions.”

The doctor added a few more notations.

“I see,” he said. “And I’m guessing since you two are in the same line of work there’s likely some competition, and competition sometimes causes friction in a marriage. When you get home from work, do you compare notes? And by that I mean, do you discuss what you accomplished? I’ll bet more times than not you find yourselves trying to one-up each other, even if you don’t realize it. Sometimes that can be fun, but over time it can become unhealthy.”

Minnie sighed.

“You know, you could be right. We’re both very focused on our jobs, and really that’s our main problem, I think. We both want to be successful in the working world that sometimes it affects our personal life. We don’t really argue much at all, it’s just that at the end of the day we find that we haven’t made enough time for each other.”

Minnie was feeling more comfortable with Dr. Nelson, and the rest of the session seemed to fly by. By the time the hour was done, she was laughing and thanking the counselor profusely for making her feel better.

“I think we made a lot of progress in a short period of time,” Dr. Nelson said. “But the key is to get your husband to come with you to one of these sessions. Any chance we could do that same time next week?”

Minnie thought for a moment and shrugged.

“I don’t know, doc,” she said. “I’m not sure he thinks there’s a problem. And truthfully, with our jobs, it’s hard for us to get things lined up at the same time. Just let me call your office and try to arrange the next meeting. I’m not sure it’ll be next week, but I’ll be in touch.”

The two shook hands and Minnie walked out of the office, waved at the receptionist and headed for the elevator.

Once she reached the ground floor and exited the office building, she called Carl on her cellphone.

“Hey, sweetie,” she said. “How did it go?”

“Really well,” said Carl, who was driving away from Dr. Nelson’s house. “Dude had a couple of nice paintings that I was able to get into the trunk, and I found a little jewelry and more than $600 in cash. Not the best haul I’ve ever gotten but it wasn’t bad for an hour’s work.”

“Excellent,” Minnie said. “Next week we’ll try a Dr. Phillips. She lives in the Brookside neighborhood, so she should have plenty of stuff worth taking. I’ll text you her number and you can make the appointment. But this time, you sit through the session while I rob the house. Sound good?”

“Sounds great, Minnie. Love you!”

“I love you more!”

The principal’s office at Albert Bacon Fall Middle School was quite welcoming, its mustard yellow walls decorated by pictures of smiling students, colorful world maps and red and gold pennants featuring the ABF Teapots’ short and stout mascot.

Even the chairs reserved for parents were a cheery blue, and situated in front of a modest, laminate desk covered with knickknacks. So, to see the school principal – Dewey Kankle – with a serious frown on his face certainly changed the vibe.

Michael and Mary Smith had been called to his office to discuss some artwork rendered by their son, Michael Jr., who everyone called Mike. The youngster had been a model student since joining the school at the start of the year, making straight A’s and managing to be well-liked among just about all of his classmates whether they were in the sixth, seventh or eighth grade.

His parents couldn’t imagine what prompted the meeting – and the principal’s concern.

“Mr. and Mrs. Smith, thank you so much for taking the time to meet with me today,” Kankle said while shuffling several drawing papers. “I’m sure you’re both busy, but I just felt it was important to address this now and head off a potential problem before it becomes a full blown crisis.”

Michael, with a confused look on his face, leaned over in his chair.

“I don’t understand, Mr. Kankle. From everything we hear from Mike, things are going great here. I mean, he’s never made anything less than an A, has he? Plus, he does a lot of extracurriculars and has quite a few friends.”

“Oh, he’s a magnificent student,” Kankle said. “Smart as a whip. And according to his science teacher, his knowledge in that particular discipline is off the charts – far beyond that of most 12-year-olds. But as upsetting as it might be, you need to look at these drawings.”

Kankle handed several sheets of paper to the couple, who looked at them one by one.

“Well,” Mary said. “this looks like a pretty representative sample of what Mike draws in his spare time. He really enjoys detailing the figures, and he prides himself on making freehanded circles. Is he doing this in other classes and causing a disruption? Do his teachers think he’s not paying attention?”

The figures had large, winding horns, long, black tails and cloven hooves. The circles encased a five-pointed star.

Kankle’s eyes widened as he looked at the parents.

“Do you … do you seriously not realize what your son is drawing?” he asked, incredulously.

“Yeah, I mean … sure,” Michael said. “He’s just drawing figures and geometric symbols. He’s been doing this for as long as we can remember, and he’s getting really good at it.”

“Figures? Geometric symbols? Mr. and Mrs. Smith,” Kankle said, his voice rising, “What your son is drawing are demons and pentagrams. Now, far be it from me to tell anyone how to raise their child, but once his art teacher saw these and passed them to me, it raised a huge red flag. To you, it might seem harmless – drawing figures and symbols, as you say. To me, however, it’s planting the seeds of Satanism. Today, he’s just drawing. But the next thing you know, he’s listening to Black Sabbath, disemboweling cats and sacrificing virgins.”

Mary and Michael burst out in laughter.

“Oh, my goodness, Mr. Kankle,” Mary said. “We don’t mean to laugh – or be disrespectful – but you’ve got it all wrong. That’s not what he’s drawing. At all. Of course, now that you mention it, I could see where you’d make the mistake.”

“There’s no mistake!” Kankle huffed. “Show this to any human, and they’ll tell you what’s on that paper are demons and pentagrams!”

“Fair point,” Michael said. “Look, we might as well be honest with you, Mr. Kankle. Humans might mistake these for demons and pentagrams, but to inhabitants of Fundor – I think your astronomers call it TOI-715 b – these images represent something else entirely. The creatures you say are demons are actually Corbin Beasts, which populate a large portion of our planet. They’re also great pets, similar to your dogs and cats. Here, this is the one we have at home, Goobus Boo.”

Michael raised his right hand, squeezed his seven fingers together and produced a hologram – one which showed an image of Mike and Goobus Boo throwing an orb back and forth.

Kankle sat in stunned silence as Michael opened his hand and the hologram disappeared. The Smiths then got up and moved toward the door.

“Oh, and about the pentagram thing …” Mary said. “That’s just what the underside of our spacecraft looks like. What you think signifies demons is just a transportation symbol to us. But you can see for yourself on Sunday night around, oh, 10 o’clock … that’s when the invasion begins, so a whole fleet will be filling the skies.

”Anyway, don’t worry about Mike. He’s a good kid.”

Duff and Lifesaver huddled at the bottom of the stairwell, which, Duff figured, was probably the safest place in the house.

A tornado warning had been issued, and all those in its path were urged to take immediate cover. The voice coming through the television was insistent.

Stay away from windows, go to a basement if you have one, or shelter in a hallway, closet or bathroom if those are your only options. This is a serious situation.

The stairwell leading to the garage at Duff’s house was 13 steps deep and covered by walls on either side. The bottom step was a favorite spot for Lifesaver, a small, ginger cat who was mostly fearless but always put aside his bravado during inclement weather. The first clap of thunder would send him slinking to his safe space, where he would curl into a ball and rhythmically twitch his ears.

When that happened, Duff would lean over the railing and talk to the cat in a calm, soothing voice.

“It’s OK, buddy,” he’d say. “We’ll take care of each other just like we always do.”

Duff’s wife had been gone for 10 years, and Lifesaver came along three years later. As the calendar kept flipping, Duff was less inclined to go out and socialize, and instead preferred the company of his feline. Once he became a “cat person,” he couldn’t imagine life without a furry friend.

And the kitty seemed to like the arrangement, too. He loved shadowing Duff as he went about his daily routine, and always snuggled beside him when the old man reclined in his easy chair, cracked open a cold one and watched baseball.

As the wind howled mercilessly and the hail pounded the metal roof, Duff gently stroked Lifesaver from head to tail.

Take immediate shelter. If you are in the counties of Douglas, Lincoln and Buchanan, you are under a tornado warning. Extensive damage has already been reported.

“I guess we should probably go to the garage, but I really don’t want to,” Duff said as Lifesaver looked up at him and slowly blinked. “Nah … we’re gonna stay right here unless we have no other choice.”

Duff had groceries delivered and used a ride-hailing service when he went out, so his 2009 CR-V had been sitting idle for several years. It most likely still ran just fine, but now it was simply 3,500 pounds of melancholy. When Duff looked at it, he thought of that spring day in 2018 when he grew so despondent he decided he didn’t want to see another day.

With the garage door closed, he planned to get in, crank it up, close his eyes and quietly slip away.

But as he opened the door and plopped down in the driver’s seat, he heard a noise coming from the corner where his tools were stored. He walked over to inspect, and saw the head of a small kitten peering at him from behind the mud-caked blade of a shovel.

Duff reached in and grabbed the puff of orange fur, who just barely spilled over the palm of his hand.

“Where did you come from, little one?” he said as the cat meekly mewed. “How did you even get in here?”

Duff pulled the kitten close to his chest, kissed it on the head, and then walked over to his car and closed the door.

Since then, the pair had been inseparable, and Duff figured this was the ninth or tenth time they had ridden out a tornado at the bottom of the stairwell.

Just as Lifesaver rolled over to get a belly rub, the hail stopped, and the roaring wind had settled into a whimper.

The tornado warnings for the counties of Douglas, Lincoln and Buchanan have been lifted. The tornadic activity has moved to the west and these counties are now under a severe thunderstorm watch. The dangerous weather should be moving out of the area within the hour.

Duff stood up and Lifesaver took a big stretch. Both headed up the stairs.

“We survived another one, buddy,” Duff said. “Why don’t we celebrate by watching some baseball.”