Read Online Uncollected Blood by Daniel J. Kirk - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Daniel J. Kirk
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too much to bear. He hated taking the drugs the doctor’s gave him. It made his mind all fuzzy and just like that another day of his last days would whimper away without producing so much as a memory of what he had for breakfast.
Jeff refused to go down that easy. He cursed the linoleum and used the counter to pull himself back to up to his feet, they felt numb and offered no support so he twisted himself into a chair at the table. His eyes fell on the table and spotted one of the few bones that had not been flung across the room. He reached for it.
><><
Jeff stared back at the kitchen table. He was on the floor again holding a different bone than the one he swore he had just picked up on the table. Only Jeff could see clear as day the bone he had grabbed remained on the table. He tried to search his memory for a sign that he only imagined sitting down in the chair.
But his memory was angry that he no longer trusted it.
Dammit, I just sat down. I know it.
Jeff dropped the bone in his hand and reached for a nearby doorknob to aid him. He stood up for less than a second before his knees buckled again and he landed face down on the linoleum floors. The smell of antiseptics still fresh from when he last cleaned it. He couldn’t remember that either.
His mind felt like it had slipped a gear. How could he be in the wrong place? He knew he wasn’t on this side of the kitchen a second ago. He clutched the bone he had dropped and his mind flipped again. He felt nauseous as suddenly he stared from the opposite side the kitchen, and he was sure this time that he was holding a different bone and the one he had picked up by the door was still lying on the floor.
><><
Jeff laughed.
He tried to toss one of the bones as far as he could but it landed in the middle of the street, like some prepubescent girl had thrown it. He was grateful all of his fellow Little Leaguers were not present or at least too dead to have commented on his throw.
Then Jeff walked back into his house, grabbed another bone and continued his laugh out in the middle of the street.
He’d read of this kind of thing in his science fiction magazines as a kid. It was called teleportation. And some how the six bones could transfer Jeff from one to the next like playing connect-the-dots. And he knew their path worked like that of whatever structure the bones once formed. As he collected them he found as long as he had all of them he wouldn’t jump to the next and so soon he was laying them out on the table and from his frail memory he knew they had once formed a human finger.
In all his years Jeff didn’t remember believing more in magic than he did just then. Figures, that beautiful woman was a witch.
But here he was with the answer to so many of his problems. He started small and taped one of the bones to the mailbox just outside his door. He practiced a few times and thought he might scare the postman one day just for a laugh. The next of the bones he took to just outside the grocery store and placed it where he figured it wouldn’t be spotted in some badly hedged boxwood. He was delighted to find that he would no longer need the bus. And that he could carry his grocery bags directly into his kitchen in the speed of a snapped finger.
Convenient.
He then addressed an envelope to his grandchild and mailed him a bone.
><><
“I got your letter grandpa,” His grandson, Will said over the phone.
“Do you have the bone?”
“Yeah, that’s cool is it like a dog bone?”
“No, it’s a wish bone! Go ahead and wish that I was there?”
Before the six-year old could finish hesitating, Jeff was standing next to him.
“How did you? Grandpa you’re being silly you were hiding in the closet,” Will said.
“Was I now? Did you check that closet?”
“No.”
“But you’re glad to see me?”
“Yeah. Want to push me on the swings?”
Jeff smiled and wondered if he could mail a bone to China so he could finally see The Great
Jeff refused to go down that easy. He cursed the linoleum and used the counter to pull himself back to up to his feet, they felt numb and offered no support so he twisted himself into a chair at the table. His eyes fell on the table and spotted one of the few bones that had not been flung across the room. He reached for it.
><><
Jeff stared back at the kitchen table. He was on the floor again holding a different bone than the one he swore he had just picked up on the table. Only Jeff could see clear as day the bone he had grabbed remained on the table. He tried to search his memory for a sign that he only imagined sitting down in the chair.
But his memory was angry that he no longer trusted it.
Dammit, I just sat down. I know it.
Jeff dropped the bone in his hand and reached for a nearby doorknob to aid him. He stood up for less than a second before his knees buckled again and he landed face down on the linoleum floors. The smell of antiseptics still fresh from when he last cleaned it. He couldn’t remember that either.
His mind felt like it had slipped a gear. How could he be in the wrong place? He knew he wasn’t on this side of the kitchen a second ago. He clutched the bone he had dropped and his mind flipped again. He felt nauseous as suddenly he stared from the opposite side the kitchen, and he was sure this time that he was holding a different bone and the one he had picked up by the door was still lying on the floor.
><><
Jeff laughed.
He tried to toss one of the bones as far as he could but it landed in the middle of the street, like some prepubescent girl had thrown it. He was grateful all of his fellow Little Leaguers were not present or at least too dead to have commented on his throw.
Then Jeff walked back into his house, grabbed another bone and continued his laugh out in the middle of the street.
He’d read of this kind of thing in his science fiction magazines as a kid. It was called teleportation. And some how the six bones could transfer Jeff from one to the next like playing connect-the-dots. And he knew their path worked like that of whatever structure the bones once formed. As he collected them he found as long as he had all of them he wouldn’t jump to the next and so soon he was laying them out on the table and from his frail memory he knew they had once formed a human finger.
In all his years Jeff didn’t remember believing more in magic than he did just then. Figures, that beautiful woman was a witch.
But here he was with the answer to so many of his problems. He started small and taped one of the bones to the mailbox just outside his door. He practiced a few times and thought he might scare the postman one day just for a laugh. The next of the bones he took to just outside the grocery store and placed it where he figured it wouldn’t be spotted in some badly hedged boxwood. He was delighted to find that he would no longer need the bus. And that he could carry his grocery bags directly into his kitchen in the speed of a snapped finger.
Convenient.
He then addressed an envelope to his grandchild and mailed him a bone.
><><
“I got your letter grandpa,” His grandson, Will said over the phone.
“Do you have the bone?”
“Yeah, that’s cool is it like a dog bone?”
“No, it’s a wish bone! Go ahead and wish that I was there?”
Before the six-year old could finish hesitating, Jeff was standing next to him.
“How did you? Grandpa you’re being silly you were hiding in the closet,” Will said.
“Was I now? Did you check that closet?”
“No.”
“But you’re glad to see me?”
“Yeah. Want to push me on the swings?”
Jeff smiled and wondered if he could mail a bone to China so he could finally see The Great
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