The Harland Highway - GARDEN HOSE STORY - PART 2

Episode Date: September 30, 2016

This is the 2nd segment of Harland's short story about a man who travels back in time every time he drinks from a water hose. Enjoy PREMIUM MEMBERS! Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Later that night, Nathan and Kelly ran around the living room like monkeys escaped from their cages. They chased each other and laughed, bounding over couch cushions and throwing their stuffed animal toys at each other. Sherry tried to wrangle them in and get them to their bedrooms for bedtime. She was hardly in the mood after her confrontation with Brett earlier. Her energy was spent. Come on, kids, please! it's time for bad the children ignored her and kept on bounding around the room hey a loud clap filled the room and the children stopped in their tracks brett stood tall at the mouth of the hallway and spoke to the kids in a voice where there was no escaping his intentions you heard your mother bad now let's go the children were so unaccustomed to hearing their father tell them to do anything that his voice shot through them like a sniper's

bullet. They stared at him and could read the seriousness in his face. They didn't dare defy him. And almost like soldiers, they marched right past him toward the stairs and went up to their rooms. Daddy will be up in a minute to turn out the light. A faint giggle from Kelly drifted back in response. And then the night was at last silent. Sherry stared at Brett with a silent thank you in her eye. she shuffled over to him and sheepishly took his hand she was shorter than him and she looked up into his face gratefully thank you she half whispered a sigh of relief as she folded into brett's arms brett rested his face and the hair on the top of her head he squeezed her i'm sorry baby i'm sorry about today sherry pinched her eyes shut she needed to hear these words right now now the fight in the bedroom and scared her it was the closest they had ever come to really saying things out loud i'm sorry too baby i'm sorry that i raised my voice it's okay hon i probably needed to hear it what was i thinking my dad really i think you were right it was the beers maybe some heat stroke too

for good luck sherry smiled i tell you every time to wear your hat but you You never do. They hug tighter and shared a weak laugh. Sherry closed her eyes as Brett rocked her. Are we going to be okay, Brett? She asked hesitantly. Brett wasn't able to answer. The silence that hung in the air was worse than the shouting from earlier.

A moment later, they broke apart, and Sherry disappeared up the stairs. Brett stood there alone in the middle of his own house, unsure of what his life was anymore. His lower lips started to slightly tremble. He needed to get outside into the night air. He needed to take some deep breaths. On the back patio the summer air was flat and still. The crickets took advantage of the calmness

to call each other across streets and neighborhoods, chirping in their own secret language into the mysteries of the night. The air felt good around Brett. he liked warm summer nights. They felt romantic somehow. Brett looked up to the sky and could see a few stars twinkling above. The city was not good at revealing stars. Brett was grateful for any that he could lay his eyes on. As he scanned the sky, his eyes descended back to the yard, the far end, where he had foolishly thought he had seen his father. Maybe it was his marriage that had caused him to imagine his father, maybe the pressure of all the pent-up feelings and emotion that he and Shelley

had dared to reveal to each other. Maybe that's what caused his vision of his dad, or was it something else? For some strange reason, Brett's gaze was being drawn to the hose, lying on the ground, the same hose he had drunk from earlier. Perhaps it was this warm, dry summer night air, It was making him slightly parched. Maybe it was time for another drink from the hose. Brett looked behind him through the sliding glass door. For some reason, he felt the need to make sure the coast was clear. Why? He wasn't quite sure.

The wood under his feet creaked as he walked across the deck and stepped out onto the lawn. There was a slight coating of dew that had already formed on the grass as Brett moved quietly across the lawn. in seconds he stood over the hose that was lying on the ground he picked it up and looked at it in the darkness as he had done earlier he turned the nozzle and bent down to drink brett took in some small mouthfuls of clear cold water his thirst wasn't as ravenous as it had been during the heat of the day but still the night was humid and his body accepted the moisture wholeheartedly brett's eyes darted around in the darkness, wondering if anything was going to happen, wondering if his father would appear again. But after a few moments, nothing changed. His father did not appear. And in fact, Brett was almost a little relieved. He was so sure of what he had seen earlier that it scared

him. It was so real, but yet so impossible. At least now, Brett could chalk the event up as some kind of daydream or heat stroke or something. Brett felt his mind relax. He began to take in the hose water slowly, savoring it, feeling it slide down his throat, cooling the lining of his esophagus. He closed his eyes and drank. Hey, are you coming stupid or what?

Brett's eyes popped open. His head whipped around. He knew that voice. Come on, Brett, let's get a move on, man. there's going to be girls there. Brett slowly straightened up and turned. Scotty? Uh, yeah, were you expecting Elvis?

Come on, let's do this. It's going to be hot. Brett looked around in the darkness. His house was gone. He was now in a park. The park he knew as a kid. The park from his neighborhood. The hose he was drinking from was now a stone drinking fountain.

And standing in front of him, his best childhood friend, Scotty Dorfman, Scotty, is that you? Come on, buddy, stop clowning. I stole a Mickey of Scotch from the old man's liquor cabinet. Let's do this. Brett looked all around. The park sprawled on for what seemed in eternity.

Giant beech-nut trees reaching up towards the night sky with their thick, sturdy branches, their leaves creating a canopy that the night breeze ruffled with its gentle rush. Scotty standing there anxious and excited. tipping the flask of scotch back into his grinning mouth. Here, take a shot, he demanded as he held the silver container out to Brett. Where are we going, Scotty? Buddy, are you okay? To the bonfire, man.

We've all been talking about it for the last three weeks. Wait, Cal Davidson's bonfire? Yeah, dipshit, come on, take a sip and let's go. Brett suddenly became dazed at the same time he was a chance. even clarity. He had been here before. He knew what was about to happen. Debbie Patterson and Tanya Reese are supposed to be there. Oh man, Tanya has the biggest tits in school, man. Brett took the flask out of Scotty's hand and quickly tilted it back into his mouth. The scotch burned slightly, but also felt smooth as it coated his throat and dropped down into his insides. How does a girl even

get tits that big. How is it possible? I just want to lay my head on one of them and fall asleep. As Brett handed the flask back to Scotty, he took a moment to look down at his clothes. He was a little taken aback to see that he wasn't in the clothes he had been wearing just moments earlier. Now he was in his blue jeans and red sneakers, a black v-neck t-shirt. Brett touched his chest and his thigh at the same time. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. and further he could feel his body through the fabric. It had changed too.

Brett could feel muscle and tightness. His body was firm and strong and young. Brett was completely disoriented. Scotty, how old am I? You're same as me, 16, idiot. But you're acting like a retarded three-year-old. Come on, let's get going. Scotty thumped Brett in the arm with a fist.

Brett flinched not prepared for how. real the punch would be, but he felt it. He felt it all. How could he be feeling this if it was just a dream, Brett thought? Come on, Brett, let's go, man! The call of Scotty's voice from 20 feet down the walking path snapped Brett out of his confused thoughts. He turned and saw his best childhood friend, Scotty Dorfman, walking happily into the shadows of the towering trees. Brett blinked his eyes quickly several times, inhaled a deep breath, and a deep breath, and somewhat unsure, ran after Scotty. There must have been 60 people or more gathered around the raging bonfire. People were sitting in a large circle on logs or standing, some staring into the mesmerizing

flames, others ignoring the fire altogether, too caught up in their own conversations. Brett approached cautiously, still unsure of the dream reality he was enveloped by. He scanned the large gathering. recognized many of the faces. There were a lot of the kids he went to school with. Dale Cruthers, Kathy Macon, Buzzy Smith. Brett's heart started beating faster as he muzzled up to Scotty. Hey, give me that flask again, Scotty. Scotty reached under his windbreaker and handed it to Brett blindly. His eyes were focused on a sort of good-looking girl on the other side of the fire. Oh man, I told you she'd be here, buddy shit tanya reese i told you her tiddies were monsters brett wasn't paying attention this time he was guzzling the scotch from scotty's flask it went straight down his throat strong and hard hey easy man that's gonna lask us all night scotty looked irritated as he yanked the flask away from brett what's wrong with you slow down but there was no slowing down brett needed that alcohol he could feel a slight comfort buzz coming on. Come on, let's head over towards Tanya. Scotty grabbed Brett's arm and tugged him.

Brett cracked a slight smile. As freaked out as he was, he was also starting to feel that this time that he was in, this place, was completely awesome. Scotty sat on a log next to Tanya Reese, talking a mile a minute and staring down at her tits just as much. Brett needed a little break and decided to stray off on his own. Silently, he slipped away and moved to an area that was less populated with exuberant high school kids laughing, talking, enjoying life. Brett was a bit unsure of what to do, whom to talk to. How could he face some of his friends already knowing how their lives turned out?

Tom Davidson was going to be an architect. Polly Mason moved to Australia and started an aviation company. Darlene Sanders would marry and divorce three times. times, and Kevin Raleigh, he'd be dead at 25. Suicide. The scotch swirled in Brett's head and away the sparks from the fire danced up into the dark night sky. Brett followed them spiral upwards and fade into the stars. In his head, he wondered how this could all be happening. How was he here, somehow back in time in his own life? Before he could answer any of those questions, stopped. He could feel something, an energy. It was that feeling you get when someone is staring at

you. Brett circled the bonfire with his eyes. He could feel someone watching him. And as he passed by all the happy faces, he saw almost a shadow of a figure, blending into the trees. Her fair white skin, the only thing giving her away. Her face was framed by the darkness and was illuminated by the the fires glow. Her eyes wide and blue, staring straight at Brett, straight into his eyes. He knew who it was immediately. Of course, this was the place they talked for the very first time. It was his future wife, Sherry. Their eyes locked like two wolves staring through the forest at one another. It was a strong, powerful, deep stare that went beyond just sight. This was the type of stare that burned its way into the chest and seared the heart.

Brett almost choked on his own breath as he took her in. She was stunning. All the love that Brett had ever known for his wife came flooding into his heart in that moment. He felt so alive. Cautiously, Brett stood and wandered past all the people who were there. Scotty's still talking and gawking with a half-drunk Tonyer Reese. everyone else engaged in the innocence of being young and unknowing. It seemed to take forever for Brett to arrive in front of Sherry,

but at last he did, and she was even more stunning up close. Brett just stood and looked at her, absorbed her. Sherry was bashful and finally forced herself to look away from Brett and stare down at the ground. Sorry, I laughed at you. Her voice was soft and whispered. like a summer breeze passing through the woods laughing at me brett asked naively at football practice when you were walking like an ostrich remember sort of sideways sherry looked slightly embarrassed and guilty at the same time an ostrich brett thought deeply or as deeply as he could at this juncture oh my cleat my broken cleat sherry giggled and tried to cover her mouth with her hand. You were one of the girls in the bleachers, right?

The one with the... Brett suddenly stopped. Sherry slowly looked back up at him, the orange glow of the fire dancing in her sky-blue irises. Beautiful blue eyes. Sherry looked away again, but just as quickly looked back. They were locked in their stare again.

All they could see now is each other. The rest of the world faded away. It was just them and the night, the whisper of the leaves and the dancing fire burning long and hot, the flames licking at the darkness. Brett couldn't speak anymore, neither could Sherry. Everything they would ever need to say was contained in their stare. Everything they would ever need to know about each other was there, revealed in their longing eyes. Sherry gently bit into her soft lower lip as Brett slowly. moved his face closer to hers.

Their eyes were so close, their mouths like magnets pulling for each other. And before another enchanted second could pass, their mouths came together like soft clouds colliding in the sky. They sealed their lips together and kissed like it was the end of time, like the world had stopped spinning, and they had found the only thing that would ever matter in life, each other. For what seemed in eternity, they remained locked in their kiss. The fire crackling, and their hunger for each other deeper than the beginning or end of the Milky Way, far, far above.

When at last Brett opened his eyes, Sherry was gone. A trail of water slid down the side of his mouth, and the hose that he held down at his side splashed across his shoes. Oh, man! He jumped back to avoid letting them get any more soaked on the face. already were. Brett looked around, slightly disoriented, but still aware of his surroundings. Quickly he reached for the hose and turned it off. The splashing sound of water stopped, and once again the night was quiet. Brett stared at the hose in his hand, dazed. Without thinking, he dropped it, turned and slowly walked to the porch and into the house. On his way to his own

bedroom, Brett stopped at the door of his children's bedroom. He hesitated, but then gently opened the door a crack. He could see his son Nathan sprawled all over the bed, hardly any blankets at all covering his body. Kelly, on the other hand, was snuggled tightly under her favorite pink blanket, her trusty stuffed bumblebee sharing the pillow with her head. Brett stared at them for a moment, just watching them, knowing they wouldn't move. knowing they were fast asleep he wondered why he hadn't been closer to them been a better father to them

what struck him as unusual in that moment was not that he was thinking these things but why he had never thought these things before until now Brett couldn't tear himself away from staring at their tiny innocent bodies just lying there unaware of the complexities the world would eventually throw at them Brett's eyes started to glisten.

He knew he was getting emotional. Softly, he pulled the door shut and continued down the hall. In bed, Sherry was fast asleep. He knew her body language so well. He knew her breathing habits. She was out. As he had with his children, just moments ago, Brett propped himself up on one elbow and just stared at his wife.

Perhaps something he had. hadn't done in the last 15 years. He must have stared for a good ten minutes. She was soft and quiet, in contrast to the anger she had displayed earlier that day. Brett realized that the sensational, time-stopping kiss he had just shared with the girl by the bonfire was the same woman laying beside him now. What had happened, he wondered. When was the last time he had kissed her like that. A wave of guilt and sadness washed over Brett. He reached out to touch her, but then, for some reason, stopped himself. Maybe somewhere in the back of his mind, he believed he didn't have the right to touch her anymore. Again, moisture began to collect in his eyes. He had to pull

away, stop thinking about all of this so hard. He stared for maybe a minute longer, until at last he laid down on his back, shut his eyes, and went to sleep.