Chapter 6 - One Way

Found this lurking about incomplete on my computer. Decided to complete it and upload it. Admittedly, it's not my finest, but it was spurred by an incident a few weeks ago where myself and my Peugeot 106 nearly ended up kissing a van at about60/70 mph. On one of the worst roads around here. >.o

So, out of boredom and lack of stuff to do, I decided to have a go at finishing it. And I think I failed. Especially with the ending. >_<
Anway, it's a short story to accompany a friend's short story series call Howl Of The Wolf.

Everything (c) me (Amy)
(except for the car models. They don't belong to me, but anyone with half a brain cell would know that. lol )
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Howl of the Wolf: One Way


Sirens split the evening silence with their obnoxiouseness, crying warnings to those in the area. The building was on fire, scorching, hungry flames eating away at the faceless brick and concrete structure like a fat man at a buffet. The Magpie stood on the opposite side of the street, the spray from the firemen's hoses dampening his feathers and further drowning his spirits. No one knew how the fire had started. The huddled employees who shared the same side of the street as he, were whispering and chattering exicetedly above the din. Some were saying it was the ageing fuse box in the cellar, others saying arson. Right now, the cause wasn't what was plaguing Nathan's mind. It was what he was going to do next, and if he and his fellow employees were going to get some kind of compensation for this. Work was scarce at the present moment in time. No one was employing. More so, they were laying people off, trying to save money to keep their businesses afloat. Nathan heaved a sigh. This had been his fourth job in a year. Laid off after fifteen years of loyal service to a car sale's room - cum - repair garage then laid off twice more, both times after a mere three months of service to the other companies. And now this. His latest job, one that seemed so promising, albeit intensely boring, gone up in flames. The Polar Bear next to him was ranting about out loud about something. But only being able to understand his mother tongue, Nathan hadn't the foggiest what the large man was on about. Though one thing was for sure, judging by the harsh tone of his ranting voice; It wasn't good, in a way making him glad he couldn't understand what the man was saying. Right now, there was only one thing anyone but the emergency services could do; Go home and wait for further news about the incident. Turning, Nathan pulled his suit jacket around him and wandered off in the direction of where he'd last seen his car. That was at least three blocks away, the business's own, private yet small car park being stuffed full of mechanical monstrosities and mechanical works of art.


Now sat in his chair that was situated next to the bay window in his badly and hastily decorated living room, Nathan sat with his feet up, TV remote in one hand, newspaper in the other which was turned to the advertising pages. It was wise to start looking for a job now, instead of leaving it until the last minute. He had a horrible feeling that the next few days wouldn't be pleasant. The past three years hadn't been pleasant. Personal problems had mounted into family problems and now he was out of a job. Again. The only things he was greatfull for was for his wife and her abundance of seemingly never ending patience and understanding; their son, Trent and the fact that he wasn't the one to have caused the rift in the family. That part was down to his youngest brother in - law and his perpetual drug habit. Putting down the newspaper, seeing nothing that required his expertise in the fields of pencil pushing for the local council or driving, he stared blankly at the TV.
This is ridiculous. He thought sourly. There's always need for a driver somewhere!
His wife walked into the living room from the kitchen, Trent trailing her like a puppy.
''I'm going to the shops to get something for tea. Need anything while I'm there?'' She asked, collecting her handbag and its various, mysterious contents together.
It took a moment for her husband to reply, but when he did, the words that left his beak sounded distant and lost.
''Nah. I'm good.'' He replied slowly.
His wife, Lidia, wrinkled her brow slightly, grabbed the car keys and approached him. Leaning down, she placed a gentle kiss on his forehead. Trent bounced up onto his lap, wrapped his little feathered arms around his father's neck and gave a squeezing hug, which Nathan readily returned. It was brief moment of bliss that he relished, taking him away from the gloomyness of the real world.
''If you remember anything you need, just give us call. Got me mobile on me.'' She said, having one last rummage through her well stuffed leather bag.
''Safe journey.'' Nathan said warmly through the downy feathers of his son's head that were tickling his nostrils.
''Only a few blocks away.'' She smiled. ''C'mon Trent. Let's go get you some tea.'' She reached a feathered hand out and the little boy took it, hopping from his father's lap and bouncing to the front door that was situated behind Nathan's chair.
Turning slightly in his chair, Nathan watched through the rain wet bay windows as the doors on the dark green estate closed, his eyes fixed on the vehicle as it rolled carefully backwards out of the red brick driveway. He also took note of the rain. It was heavy and didn't seem to be letting up anytime soon.


Three hours had passed. Lidia and Trent were nowhere to be seen. And after trying to get ahold of his wife several times after remembering they needed washing powder, he started to worry. She shouldn't be taking this long to get the shopping done. The supermarket was only around the corner. It was also on a main road, the car park's junction notorious for accidents. He'd had several dented wings and whiplash due to that particular junction before. And there'd been more HGVs comming through the town lately, too....
He shook the thought from his head and put the grim thoughts down to his run of bad luck. He settled back down into his chair after pacing around the house in a restless state and picked up another newspaper, this one the national paper. Desperate times call for desperate measures. His boss hadn't phoned him since the day of the incident at the offices, and neither had any of the man's secrataries to let him know what was going on. The fire had been on the news several times, but nothing was said on what was going to happen to the employees who worked there. As soon as his long tail feathers fanned in a state of partial relaxation, the phone rang, making him jump, the feathers around his neck fluffing up. Plucking the cordless receiver from its cradle on the table beside him, he pressed the green button and held it to a hidden ear with his free hand. The voice on the other end of the line was unfamiliar and had a stern undertone to it. In the background, there was the sound of sirens and people shouting. His gut went cold. Quickly checking the number on the face of the phone he sank into his seat, newspaper dropping from his hand. Indeed, the voice on the other end of the line delivered bad news. News that he never wanted to hear. News that no one should hear, especially from a stranger using a spouse's mobile phone. Nathan's eyes became wet and tears streaked down his cheeks. He needed to get to the accident site, and he needed to get there immediately. Hanging up and tossing the phone to one side, he slipped his trainers on and swung the front door open, house keys in hand. The rain was still pouring. But he was in too much of a hurry to grab a coat. He ran outside, into the downpour, his black and white feathers soaked in seconds. He splashed through puddles, wiped the damp from his face so he could see through the wet haze and rounded the final corner, lungs burning, heart pounding and eyes stinging. It was amazing how fast one could cover three blocks on foot when in a state of near blind panic. Nathan slid to a halt as the scene presented itself to him. The battered old tow truck, sturdy and steadily rusting away, had the mini bus's rear wheels hefted off the ground. He circled around the hastily erected yellow tape and police officers as much as he could, trying to get a better view of what was going on. Wedged between the mini bus and a large, fully loaded articulated lorry, was the family car. The once well built vehicle had crumpled under the pressure of both HGVs, reducing it to the width of a cracker. Both bus and lorry were facing each other. Two large vehicles travelling the opposite directions on a busy one way system never boded well.

Nathan's blood ran cold when he caught a glimpse of a thick, oblong black bag laying on the floor beside the crumpled mini bus. He started toward it, ignoring the swarming police officers, paramedics and firemen, hearing nothing now, but the pounding of his own heart in his ears. Just about to cross the line, a Rottweiler in a black and white officer's uniform caught his arm firmly, swinging the Magpie back around.
''Sorry, sir, but I'm gonna have to ask you to stay here.'' He said sternly.
''But, that's my car!'' He protested. ''My wife and son were in there!''
The copper seemed to stay impassive. After a moment, he reached for the radio that was secured to the top left of his stab proof vest and murmered something into it. There was a static filled reply, that sounded more like a garbled mumble than anything else, and the heavily built copper gave a solemn nod and pointed to the nearest ambulance. Nathan quickly hurried over to said vehicle and pried for information. Upon flashing a small picture of his wife and son that had been secluded away in his wallet for some years, the paramedic's shoulders slumped slightly and his lips worked around words that refused to be said. Eventually, the Feline just settled for placing a paw on Nathan's shoulder and giving a solemn shake of his head when the feathered index finger jabbed at his wife's image.
''What about my son?'' He near shouted over the din.
''Fire fighters're still trynna cut him from the car!'' The paramedic replied, equally as loudly, just to be heard over the din of sirens and metal being forced open by high powered metal cutters.
The Rottweiler approached him, and Nathan spun around, eyes wide and tear filled.
''What happened?!'' He demanded feebly.
''Driver of the bus weren't paying attention to his surroundings and turned up the one way. The artic' was doing thirty. I was in the area.'' He said softly, with a hint of regret. ''It weren't pretty.''
Anger suddenly erupted inside Nathan and he found himself searching his immediate surroundings for the bus driver.
''Too late,'' The copper said reading the Magpie's reaction perfectly, ''he's been taken to the hospital under police escort.''
Nathan gaped, held his tongue and turned around at the sound of metal parting from metal. The roof of the severely battered estate was peeled off and soon as it was on the floor, paramedics swarmed in to help the firemen try to free the child. His child; an eight year old boy who would be turning nine in two days time. For long, arduous moments, where time seemed to slow to a stop, Nathan looked on helplessly as the vairous bodies flocked the car from all angles.

Eventually the boy was pulled free, limp and lifeless. The din of shouting quietened, all eyes downcast. Nathan fell to the floor, sobbing, pleading to every god he could think of. There was a hush in the crowd of onlookers and spectators. Even the last of the sirens had been silenced. Nathan slammed his fists into the wet tarmac, water splashing up and into his face. So much had been taken away from him. What next? His home, too? He had no idea what to do next. He didn't want to go home. Didn't want to return to an empty house of old and recent memories. His thoughts died down, mind emptying of everything. Blankness reigned supreme in his over stressed mind. Unsteadily forcing himself to his feet, he turned and walked away numbly, not questioning where his feet were taking him. Streets were navigated, roads crossed and street signs read. Eventually he found himself sat on a bench in the park, under a tree, hands in his lap, eyes fixed on some point across the wide expanse of green and the smattering of ancient oaks. In his pocket, his phone vibrated, then screamed at him for attention, that most annoying of sounds boaring right through his skull. He absently pulled the small device from his pocket and checked the screen.
Mabel
It was his mother in-law. He looked up at the now rainless sky. The sun had almost set. He still didn't want to go home. Still didn't want to talk to anyone. He wasn't sure what to do about the rest of his family. He had two sides to tackle. How does one go about telling a woman that her only daughter and grandson has died? It was an impossible feat. One that he couldn't avoid for long, but it wasn't something he was prepared to do at this present moment in time. He placed the irritable little piece of technology back in his pocket and curled up on the bench, making himself as comfortable as possible. Home could wait until later. It wasn't as if he was going to get into trouble for being late. His eyes slowly closed, blotting out the sight of the park and the raucous sounds of bored and boisterous teenagers as they meandered aimlessly through the park. Sleep claimed him quick and mercilessly, wrapping him in blissful, all consuming darkness.


Awaking to the sound of cheerful birds chattering away to each in the branches above his head, Nathan sat up, feeling worse than he'd ever felt before. He felt ill, sick to his stomach, cold and empty. He pulled his phone from his pocket, pressing the OK button beneath the large, scarred screen to review his missed calls. He had seventy of them, all from various people, some numbers he knew very well, others he didn't recognise at all. I should go home... He thought miserably. My answering machine's probably stuffed full to the point of exploding....
Hauling himself to his feet, he shambled off in the direction of his house at his own pace, dreading walking through the door to be greeted by no one but emptiness. He looked up to the sky, shielding his eyes from the all too bright sun. The world over his head was a clear, bright blue. The clouds had finally buggered off and left him to dampen his spirits further of his own accord. He stepped off the curb and into an unusually clean street. Council workers've been busy... He thought numbly. He wanted to think of anything but what had gone on yesterday. Though he knew he couldn't avoid it for much longer, he still tasked his fuzzy feeling mind with the most mundane of tasks. He started off with counting to one hundred. Then he went through every name he could think of before settling upon listing all the films he'd ever seen and trying to name all the characters within them. His eyes still downcast, staring at the floor as his feet moved him along the familiar streets, he came to his road. He stopped at the junction and looked around. All the driveways to every house he could see were occupied. Some had vehicles parked in them that he'd never seen on this street before. Surely there wasn't a half price car sale in town... He muttered to himself. Where there was a yellow Fiat before, now stood a sleek and expensive Jaguar in a traditional green. Nathan wrinkled his brow. Something was definately wrong. He proceeded slowly to his house, eyeing up the changes in the residence's gardens and choices of transport. When he came to his own house, he stopped dead, mouth hanging open. There, sat in the red bricked drive were two cars, both very familiar. An old Morris Miner and an old deep green Mondeo estate. He rubbed at his sleep ridden eyes and slowly walked up the drive. The last he recalled, both cars were write-offs. The Morris had been the first to go in the late eighties when his aunt had lost control on a patch of black ice, putting the vehicle into a ditch. And the estate. His estate... He tried shaking the thought from his mind, but it wouldn't leave, refusing to go away like a never ending itch.

He slowly approached the porch and inserted his key into the lock, turning and gently pushing the door open. He peered inside and was instantly greeted by the rich scent of freshly baked banana bread. His salival glands instantly reacted and he pushed the door open a little further. He recognised that smell. Knew it from when he was younger. His aunt's banana bread, as he once put it, rocked his world. And it still did. As nostalgia quickly filled his mind and senses he stepped into the living room. Everything was as he'd left it yesterday. Except the newspaper was back on the arm of the chair, the phone was in its cradle and the TV was off. Closing the door behind him with a gentle click, he replaced his keys on the small hooks that he'd screwed into the wall next to the coat hooks.
''Hello...?'' He ventured.
There was the distinct sound of small feet running about excitedly upstairs. He cast his eyes towards the badly artexed ceiling and followed the footsteps across the landing and down the stairs.
''Dad!'' Came the small and excitable voice.
''Oh my god...'' Nathan muttered as Trent lept at him, throwing his arms around his father's waist.
Nathan sank to his knees and instantly returned the hug, burying his face into his son's downy feathers.
''Hurry up! I need a taste tester!'' Came the familiar demanding voice of his aunt.
Trent quickly peeled away from his father and scurried into the kitchen. Nathan followed, but at a slower pace. He had no idea what was going on. Stepping through the kitchen door, he looked around. Again, the kitchen was as he'd left it. With the exception that his wife was sat at the end of the table in her usual place, nose buried so deep into a newspaper, that she didn't notice him. Pulling a tray out of the oven, was a plump female Magpie with curlers in her hair. Nathan's aunt, supposedly long since dead, plucked a cooling lump of sweet smelling banana bread from the rest of the loaf and carefully handed it to Trent. She looked over at Nathan and beamed.
''And it's about time you joined us.'' She smiled and dumped the loaf on a cooling tray.

''But you're...'' Nathan began uncertainly.
''Dead.'' His wife finished abruptly.
''What?'' Nathan said abruptly.
Oh how he wanted to sweep that woman out of her chair right now... But there were other eyes present. That thought could wait until that night. She dumped the paper on the table, folded open to the page she was reading and shoved it towards him. Nathan took the paper and read it. It was open to the obituaries and a cold shiver ran the length of his spine. Their names were there. Two listing a car accident and one, his, listing a stabbing. He read it repeatedly, letting it sink in.
''I didn't even see the bus...'' She muttered almost to herself. ''It just appeared out of nowhere. I swear!''
Nathan's aunt sat down beside her and patted her hand reassuringly.
''I know, I know.'' She crooned softly. ''It's all over now, so don't you worry you pretty little head, 'kay?''
Nathan ignored the on-going conversation, his eyes locked on his family obituary, reading it again and again. Then a thought occured to him.
''Those bloody teenagers!'' He snarled acidicly, scrunching the paper up in a hand. He looked down at his son who was munching the warm banana bread. ''Sorry son. Random outburst...''
He then sat down heavily on a kitchen chair, chucking the paper into the middle of the table. He looked over at his still mildly dazed wife and gave an unethusiastic smile.
''Thought it weren't gonna past its next MOT after yesterday.'' He muttered half heartedly.
It was a very bad attempt at dark humour, but his wife still gave a small smile after a moment when she realised he was on about the car.
''Was it really that bad?'' She asked.
Nathan nodded.
''Were there fire engines there?!'' Trent asked, climbing into the chair beside Nathan, who looked stunned by his son's sudden question.
Surely boy should be shaken after the incident..? But then, young minds are always more malleable and forgiving than the older ones.

Nathan really couldn't see a way out it, so he sighed and nodded.
''At least three.'' He said, ruffling the boy's head feathers lightly.
''Your son is quite the morbid little beast.'' His aunt said lightly and with a smile.
They sat in silence for a few moments, taking in the new situation. Nathan finally came to a conclusion. If this was the afterlife, then he'd just have to go with the flow, like he'd done so many times before. He was good at adjusting to new things, and he was always willing to accept whatever challenge life threw at him. To him, this was just another challenge.
''So, uh. What's for dinner?'' He asked.
''What?'' His wife all but exclaimed.
His aunt gave a hearty laugh.
''Yeah, I'm hungry!'' Trent said, following his father's almost absent minded query.
''Okay, I'll make us all some sandwiches, then while we're eating them, I can fill you in on your new lease of life.'' The big woman smiled and pushed away from the table.
''Sounds good to me.'' Nathan said.
His wife gave him a sharp look. Nathan shrugged helplessly. He was feeling as bad as she was, but he was doing his best not to show it. He'd deal with it later, away from prying eyes. But right now, it wouldn't do to have two upset parents hanging around a young boy. It'd bring his spirits down. So to speak...

You are not authorized to comment here. Your must be registered and logged in to comment