Rick McQuiston
Copyright © 2006
Simon and Julie looked at their bundle of joy. The newborn only occupied about half of the crib which in its loving parents eyes made it even more precious. Above the baby’s smooth, soft head dangled a mobile of various cartoon animals. The baby enjoyed looking at the colorful, plastic characters as they gently swayed back and forth to a lullaby.
Every corner of the room was filled with baby paraphernalia. A snow white changing table, well stocked with wipes and diapers, sat in one corner and an enormous, multi-colored baby swing was positioned in another. The walls were covered with murals of animals and angels frolicking restlessly to silent music. Being an amateur artist, Simon had painted them himself.
He looked at his wife. She was still sore and fatigued and it showed on her face; sixteen hours of labor had undoubtedly taken a toll on her.
“Honey,” he whispered, “I’ll button things up tonight. You look like you need some sleep.”
Julie looked at her husband and smiled. “I am tired,” she replied. “Let me know if you need help.” She then kissed the baby and her husband goodnight. Simon watched his wife exit the room and looked back at the baby in the crib. He reached in to tuck it in again and gently rubbed its tiny, bald head. So soft and void
of memories or emotions, it would be his job to fill it with knowledge and love and nurture its growth into a successful person in society.
The baby suddenly jerked forward before settling back down into a peaceful slumber which caused Simon to hold his breath. But in a few seconds it was sound asleep, completely unaware of its father standing over it.
Confident it was comfortable and safe; Simon pulled the side of the crib up until it clicked into place. He grimaced at the noise of the latch hoping it would not wake the baby.
The window offered its view of the neighborhood to him. He walked over to the glass and solemnly gazed out at the world. Rows of houses lined either side of the street huddled next to one another in generic order as a perfect, circular moon hung in the sky bathing the street in its glow and creating shadows everywhere.
He took a deep breath and thought about the day. It had begun like so many before it, mundane but comfortable in its familiarity. He had woken up, tended to the baby, eaten his breakfast and kissed his wife before heading off to work. All had seemed normal at least until two fifteen that morning. Two fifteen was when he had parked his hi-lo and made his way to the men’s room. The burrito he had for lunch was strongly disagreeing with him so he was in somewhat of a hurry which was certainly noticed by some of his co-workers much to his embarrassment.
He was standing at the sink washing his hands when Darryl walked in. Darryl was a portly man who worked up in sales and was always immaculately dressed. Simon had known him vaguely for years and had even been invited to his wife’s surprise birthday party on one occasion.
“Morning Simon,” he quipped as he strutted to one of the stalls. His cream colored Armani suit and highly polished beige loafers looked particularly expensive and Simon found himself wondering how he could afford to dress like that.
“Morning Darryl,” Simon responded more out of politeness than friendship.
“Been busy today?” The words came from behind the stall door accompanied by the sound of toilet paper rustling.
Not caring to talk to someone while they were taking a crap Simon began to speed up the business of washing his hands.
“You could say that.”
“Good, good. It’s always a good thing to be busy,” the unseen salesman said. “Been kinda slow for me today. Not many customers. But it’s still early.”
Feeling obligated to respond Simon answered, “Ahh yeah, that’s right.”
Darryl flung open the stall door so quickly then it startled Simon. He briskly walked up to the sink and began to wash his hands. Simon felt uncomfortable although he was not sure why. It was only Darryl. He finished drying his hands and walked to the door. For some reason unclear to him he glanced over his shoulder back at Darryl. Darryl looked up into the mirror and into Simon’s reflection. The evil visage he displayed was beyond comprehension and it froze Simon where he stood. Hatred, jealously, cruelty were all generously represented, each a portal to inner despair and chaos.
The fact that someone he had worked with for years could suddenly and unexpectingly show such malevolence for no reason whatsoever shocked Simon and challenged his perception of reality and sanity.
“Something the matter Simon?” Darryl asked. “You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.” His expression had changed back to a normal and more benign one which had Simon wondering if he had imagined the whole thing.
“No…no I’m fine,” he stuttered.
Darryl finished drying his hands and smiled. “Well, good to see you again. Don’t be such a stranger.” He extended his hand out to Simon who hesitated to shake it. Darryl then grabbed his hand and shook it vigorously. The smile on his face faded quickly, further exaggerating the look of curious malevolence that punctuated his features. The shadows bred from the warm lighting overhead added additional horrible characteristics to his face causing Simon to recoil instinctively. He pulled his hand away and cuddled it to his chest. It felt strange, like it had fallen asleep only much more pronounced in its severity.
“I’m taking out the boat this weekend, you and Julie should come out with us. You guys can get a sitter right? We’re going to Gull Island.”
Simon’s mind was completely preoccupied with his hand. Although the unusual feeling had subsided it still alarmed him.
“Ahh, yeah that’s sounds good. I …I’ll check with Julie.” He knew he had to get away from Darryl and quickly. The disturbing aura that had settled on the scene
was frightening to say the least; it covered the room like a wet blanket, choking the comfort of normalcy.
Simon moved towards the door. He sensed Darryl watching him and did his best to avoid looking back but much like gawkers at an accident scene he couldn’t resist looking.
It was a mistake.
Darryl was looking at him…hard. His expression was one of cunning and malicious guile, a bloodthirsty serial killer following his next victim. And there was another anomaly that caught Simon’s attention, something that wrapped its presence around his mind like a vise…Darryl’s left eye was green. A very deep shade of green. A green that was unlike anything he had ever seen before, unlike anything on Earth. It was not a variation of hazel or blue but something totally unique in its strangeness. It contrasted strongly with his right eye which was light blue.
“See ya around,” Darryl said. “Let me know about the boat trip.” The eye that was green was already changing back to its normal color right before Simon further testing his grip on reality. He left the restroom quickly and headed straight to the lunchroom. He needed something to drink to calm his nerves.
The remainder of the day flew by for Simon. His boss complimented him on doing a fine job and he was very much looking forward to seeing Julie and the baby when he got home. The earlier incident in the bathroom seemed more and more to be his imagination so he tried hard to simply put it in the back of his mind.
“Did you hear about the bug going around?” Matt asked. He was a co-worker and good friend who had shown up late that day. Simon whirled around to face his friend.
“What’s going around,” he asked afraid of the answer he knew was coming.
Matt looked at him like he was a stranger.
“Six people up in the sales department and two more in the front office have caught it. Word is the Bulldog is thinking about shutting down early. He’s probably worried about catching something himself.” Bulldog was the nickname they had fastened to the boss, Mr. Buldol. The reason was obvious to anyone who met him why they called him that.
“What kind of bug?”
“Kinda like the flu I guess. I heard you feel this weird tingling sensation before…”
Simon was heading for Buldol’s office in a flash leaving Matt standing there wearing a puzzled look which bordered on irritation.
“I’m sorry,” Ms. Tinne said in a robotic tone. “Mr. Buldol left for the day, he was not feeling well.”
Simon felt compelled to pursue the issue.
“When did he leave? What was the matter with him? Please, I need to know.”
Ms. Tinne looked up from behind her computer monitor. Simon felt relieved that both her eyes were brown. The amount of annoyance on her face could have filled a football stadium.
“I believe he was feeling unwell. Something about an unusual tingling feeling and a bad headache. He just left about ten minutes ago.” She then resumed her tapping on the keyboard as if signing him to leave.
Images from science fiction movies he’d seen as a kid swirled in his head. Invasion of the Body Snatchers, Forbidden Planet, The Day the Earth Stood Still, they each offered their disturbing ideas to his already frightened mind.
He weighed the option of telling someone about what he thought he saw with Darryl in the restroom but promptly dismissed it due to the obvious fact that no one would believe him. So what could he do?
He decided to simply feign being sick and ask to leave early. He needed to see Julie and the baby; he was confident that would allow him to clear his head and figure out what to do.
Because other people were being affected by the unusual malady he had little trouble in securing permission to go home early. Mr. Faser, Bulldog’s assistant as well as his eyes and ears, told Simon he could leave. He too, wasn’t feeling well and even commented that he was going to leave early himself.
The walk to the car was hindered by the strange tingling sensations which were returning in force. Panic was also increasing its grip which further complicated his situation.
He reached his car, started it and slammed the gears into drive leaving rising dust clouds behind him in the parking lot. He left as fast as he could, eager to get away from the place in which so many anomalies had scarred his day, if not his life. But in his rush to leave and retreat to the sanctuary of his home and family he failed to notice the badly decomposed body which lay amid rubbage near a dumpster not more than thirty feet from where his car was parked.
The body, decimated almost to the point of oblivion, was clad in a cream colored suit and beige loafers. Curiously, they were nowhere near as decayed as the body.
Once home Simon tried his best to subdue his worries and carry on like it was any other day. He did not want to scare Julie much less have her think he was crazy. His conscience bothered him considerably about not telling her but he fought it with logic and common sense. Perhaps he was overworked and coupled with the stress of the new baby his imagination just got a little carried away. His father had always said he had an overactive imagination, conjuring up fantastic scenarios to supplement the daily grind of real life.
But why? Why such unpleasant and downright frightening situations? Could it be his childhood love of anything science fiction related? He’d read Starship Troopers many times and his favorite movies were Day the Earth Stood Still and War of the Worlds. Aliens, spaceships, outer space he had loved all of it.
A smile formed on his face which immediately transformed into a frown. The smile represented all the whimsical and carefree loves of childhood and the frown reflected all those same loves being replaced by the responsibilities and burdens of adulthood. Never again would he be able to view the world with the same glowing wonder as he had as a child. His innocence was lost consoled only by the fact that he was not alone in his feelings.
He walked back over to the crib just to make sure the baby was still breathing. New parents do that often and he was no exception. Content that his child was sound asleep he left the room being sure to leave the door open and the monitor turned all the way up.
The baby rolled over on to its side. It caressed the white cotton blanket with silk trim with its tiny fingers finding comfort in the strange, soft material. It looked up at the mobile above its crib and wondered how it managed to hang in midair like it did.
And then its left eye began to throb as it turned from baby blue to a very deep shade of green unlike anything on Earth. Totally unique in its strangeness, it contrasted strongly with its right eye.
BACKGROUND
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Rick McQuiston is a 39 year-old father of two who loves to read,write and play drums. He has had 87 publications so far and is currently working on his second horror novella.
