Read Online Worlds Apart by Daniel Kelley - Free Book Online
Authors: Daniel Kelley
Tags: General Fiction
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begun was another World War II scene, Hitler’s Praetorian Guard at a Nazi party rally. Lots of action, tons of detail work, exactly what he needed to distract his thoughts. There were Wehrmacht officers on horseback along with marching Wehrmacht drummers and riflemen, an SS standard bearer to lead the black-clad, white-belted soldiers, and even miniatures of Hermann G ö ring and Heinrich Himmler to view the parade. Berlin, 1938: what a time that must have been!
Kurt flipped on the light switch before closing the basement door behind him and treading downwards. Why had this tragedy hit his family? His nearly perfect, reasonably tight-knit clan that, until this incident, had always managed to escape such bad fortune. If some cataclysm really had to occur, why couldn’t it have happened to Kurt or Elyse instead of an innocent child?
He sat on his stool before his worktable, where tools and paints and the basic ingredients of scenery making were laid out with precise organization.
Until this point, Kurt’s life had almost had a narrated quality to it, things had gone so smoothly. He had married the girl of his dreams, raised two beautiful, happy children with her, and enjoyed a long, satisfying career as a teacher. He had his dioramas and his classic Maybach to drive as hobbies; he had plenty of buds if not close friends with whom to drink a beer or pass the time. His life was as ideal as anyone could hope for, and he’d always felt that this was a just reward for all the years of hard work, strong parenting, and exemplary conduct he had put in.
Kurt lifted the miniature Himmler and knew immediately which shade of black paint would be best for his sleek uniform. It was time to lose himself and his gloom to creating a masterpiece.
Two
Kurt opened his eyes and carefully took several deep breaths. He was awake now, awake!
He glanced over at Elyse, but she was snoring lightly; whatever thrashing he might have done must have been on his side of the bed only.
What a vivid one that had been! Another nightmare, of course, and Kurt wondered if maybe he was spending just a little too much time in the basement. He’d been in a uniform of some sort, as always, and there were terrible things going on all around him, but then it seemed as if he was nonchalantly wandering around while all of it was happening, and then after that he was having incredible sex, but not with Elyse. And now that he was trying to recall those details it was all starting to go fuzzy already.
Damn! Kurt grinned to himself. It figured that the remnants of his dream would start to slip away when he was trying to extract the only good part.
He rose, and padded to the bathroom. He was going to shave first today, unlike yesterday, when midway through lunch he realized that he’d never completed his morning ritual. “It’s fine, you’re retired anyway!” Elyse had said as she’d set his meal before him, but no, it wasn’t fine at all. First it would be one morning forgotten, then two, then a week out of a month, and he’d end up one of those geriatric fools wandering the park feeding breadcrumbs to the birds.
Never! Never! He’d rather die!
Kurt posed for his mirror image: still handsome at 65, still reasonably wiry, with only partial gray streaking through his dark black hair. He cocked his head, chin up, a proud expression on his stern face.
Not bad at all for an older guy. He could still control a classroom, no problem!
Kurt looked down and found the tube of shaving cream. He wet the brush, prepared the cream, and began to lather up.
* * * *~
The doorbell rang around two o’clock. Elyse was out; Kurt put the magazine he was reading on the seat of his armchair and moved toward the front door.
“Sonya!”
No “Papa,” no greeting at all. Sonya was a mess, eye makeup smeared down her cheeks, shivering, mouth hanging open with what looked like spittle or snot clotted on both lips.
“Where’s your coat? You can’t be out here like
Kurt flipped on the light switch before closing the basement door behind him and treading downwards. Why had this tragedy hit his family? His nearly perfect, reasonably tight-knit clan that, until this incident, had always managed to escape such bad fortune. If some cataclysm really had to occur, why couldn’t it have happened to Kurt or Elyse instead of an innocent child?
He sat on his stool before his worktable, where tools and paints and the basic ingredients of scenery making were laid out with precise organization.
Until this point, Kurt’s life had almost had a narrated quality to it, things had gone so smoothly. He had married the girl of his dreams, raised two beautiful, happy children with her, and enjoyed a long, satisfying career as a teacher. He had his dioramas and his classic Maybach to drive as hobbies; he had plenty of buds if not close friends with whom to drink a beer or pass the time. His life was as ideal as anyone could hope for, and he’d always felt that this was a just reward for all the years of hard work, strong parenting, and exemplary conduct he had put in.
Kurt lifted the miniature Himmler and knew immediately which shade of black paint would be best for his sleek uniform. It was time to lose himself and his gloom to creating a masterpiece.
Two
Kurt opened his eyes and carefully took several deep breaths. He was awake now, awake!
He glanced over at Elyse, but she was snoring lightly; whatever thrashing he might have done must have been on his side of the bed only.
What a vivid one that had been! Another nightmare, of course, and Kurt wondered if maybe he was spending just a little too much time in the basement. He’d been in a uniform of some sort, as always, and there were terrible things going on all around him, but then it seemed as if he was nonchalantly wandering around while all of it was happening, and then after that he was having incredible sex, but not with Elyse. And now that he was trying to recall those details it was all starting to go fuzzy already.
Damn! Kurt grinned to himself. It figured that the remnants of his dream would start to slip away when he was trying to extract the only good part.
He rose, and padded to the bathroom. He was going to shave first today, unlike yesterday, when midway through lunch he realized that he’d never completed his morning ritual. “It’s fine, you’re retired anyway!” Elyse had said as she’d set his meal before him, but no, it wasn’t fine at all. First it would be one morning forgotten, then two, then a week out of a month, and he’d end up one of those geriatric fools wandering the park feeding breadcrumbs to the birds.
Never! Never! He’d rather die!
Kurt posed for his mirror image: still handsome at 65, still reasonably wiry, with only partial gray streaking through his dark black hair. He cocked his head, chin up, a proud expression on his stern face.
Not bad at all for an older guy. He could still control a classroom, no problem!
Kurt looked down and found the tube of shaving cream. He wet the brush, prepared the cream, and began to lather up.
* * * *~
The doorbell rang around two o’clock. Elyse was out; Kurt put the magazine he was reading on the seat of his armchair and moved toward the front door.
“Sonya!”
No “Papa,” no greeting at all. Sonya was a mess, eye makeup smeared down her cheeks, shivering, mouth hanging open with what looked like spittle or snot clotted on both lips.
“Where’s your coat? You can’t be out here like
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