NaNoWriMo Part Four

Here's the REAL fourth part.

It was quiet and dark, like that moment in Nepal oh so long ago. Light poured into Martin’s humble abode as soon as he had opened the door, and a meow welcomed him home. An orange tabby ran to greet his master, weaving in and out between his legs, rubbing all sorts of cat hair on his pressed pants.

“Hello, Joey.” Martin said plainly as he walked in, throwing the house keys on the kitchen counter. He was tired, and wanted to pack. He knew he’d be leaving tomorrow. He already made the decision but did not want to give off the impression to the old man that he would give up so easily. Martin took off his coat and threw it on a chair in the small living room. A somber portrait of Jesus hung above the old television set, surrounding by pictures of Martin’s immediate family, looking equally as somber. He looked at the black and white photograph of his mother and father, hand in hand, and sighed. He then looked to a picture of his baby daughter in her baptizing dress, a white gown overflowing, carried by her mother. She was so beautiful. She’d be around four years old today. It’s been way too long since he had last seen her joyous smile. He grimaced and went into his bedroom.

It was nothing like it used to be, back in Maine. They used to live in a big house together, with nice furniture, and delicate china. They. They they they they they they. They used to. That was over. That was over long ago, the thought loafed around in his brain. Martin stared at his single sized bed in contempt, sitting down on its rough, scratchy fabrics. Joey jumped up with him, purring and rubbing his sweetness on Martin’s arm. Martin brushed the cat’s head and looked at his alarm clock on the side table, next to a telephone and an answering machine. It was only a few minutes after three in the afternoon. That left him plenty of time to pack. He’ll let the old man know by tonight, he figured.

After shoving Joey off the bed, Martin noticed the answering machine was blinking its red light. He had a message. Curious, he thought; it was probably the men in black trying to contact him earlier. He pressed play, the tape whining through its data.

“You’ve reach Martin Vee. Please leave a message after the beep.” He sounded so dry. He thought he should really touch up on his recording message sometime and make it more cheerful and inventive. He got up and stretched after thinking briefly about it.

Beeeeeeeep.

“Hello Martin.”

He froze. It was his wife. Ex-wife, he corrected himself.

“We need to talk.” Her voice was soft and welcoming as it rang through Martin’s head, bouncing around his mind. “Call me back right away, will you? Please.” She hung up the phone. Beep. Beep. Beep.

That was the only message. Martin sat back down. Joey jumped onto the bed again and rolled around, showing his stomach. Martin rubbed it for luck and the cat purred. “I know Joey. I should probably call her back, eh?”

The cat meowed as if he had understood his master.

“Yeah. You’re right. She deserves it. How long as it been?” Martin muttered, his voice oddly quiet.

Joey didn’t reply, and rolled around instead, digging his claws into the bed covers and raising his tail.

“I know it’s been a long time. Maybe a year since we last talked? I’ll call her right now, actually. Before I forget. Do you think that’s a good idea Joey?”

The cat meowed, settling on top of the bed in a ball. He buried his face under his tail.

Martin picked up the phone and started to dial. He got to the last number before he pondered his action, but pushed it anyways, almost involuntary. As if the hand of God guided him. He held the phone between his head and shoulder, propping up his legs to begin untying his shoes as a means to divert the butterflies in his stomach. He heard several rings and had gotten through one shoe before someone answered the phone.

“Hello?” It was the voice of a gruff man. Martin was stunned for moment, coming to some horrible realization. His heart almost stopped.

“Yes, h-hello.” Martin replied. “Would Mary be around, please?”

“She sure is. Just a minute.” Martin could then hear the man yelling “Mary!” in the background, muffled by a hand clasping the mouthpiece. “She’ll be down in a sec.” He said clearly again.

“Thank you.” Martin said, but he was sure the man didn’t hear him. He waited a few seconds before he heard footsteps clapping against a hardwood floor, and his heart sank a bit more into some unknown dark crevice in his chest.

“Hello?” Her voice pierced his ears. “This is Mary.”

“Hi Mary.” Martin said plainly.

“Martin?” She replied. “You actually called! Oh, thank God you’re alright! These men came by the house yesterday and were asking about you. I had no choice but to tell—“

“It’s alright, I’m fine, I’m fine. They just wanted to talk to be about something.”

“They didn’t force you into anything did they? I told them you’d be interested but I wasn’t sure how they—“

“You were right. I was interested. I told them I’d call them back sometime tonight.” Martin got his other shoe off and grabbed the phone with a free hand. He stood up and began pacing around his bedroom. “How are you, anyways?”

“Oh,” she sounded surprised that he would ask that. “I’m doing fine. Really well actually.”

“And Lisa? How is she doing?”

“She’s doing great,” said Mary. Martin could sense she was smiling, and he was right. “We’ve been taking her to daycare. She’s really enjoying it, getting along with the other kids, you know how it is.”

“Can I talk to her?” Martin asked.

“Oh, well, she’s at a babysitter’s right now. John and I are…”

“John?” Martin interrupted. “Was that...”

Mary returned the favor. “John is my fiancé, Martin. We’re going out tonight, and I dropped Lisa off after church today at the babysitter’s. I’m sorry. Maybe tomorrow?”

“I’ll be gone tomorrow.” Martin said bitterly.

“I’m sorry.” She sounded burdened with grief. That was the last thing Martin wanted. “You know, you could come visit Lisa once in a while. She asks for you sometimes.”

“I’ve been busy. Tell her… tell her I’m sorry. Daddy will see her again some day.”

“Martin. You haven’t been very busy. Tell the truth. The only reason why I told those men, agents, warlocks or whatever is because I know you’re just sulking around your apartment all week thinking about how you’re going to wing your one hour service on Sundays.”

“Now that’s not true.” Martin denied. It was true. “I do plenty of things.”

“Like what?”

Martin stumbled for a second. “Uh, like, I go grocery shopping, and read a book. And sometimes I take Joey for a walk.”

“Very funny shit Martin. You know, this is why I left you. You’ve become… you’ve become so, so, so, so… so boring! Do something with your life, will you? Do something exciting again, like Siberia! Remember that? Remember how lovely that trip was?” She was almost hysterical at this point.

“How could I not? What a romantic trip that was…” Martin was unenthusiastic about it. That was such a nightmare trip, all those years back. He never wanted to relive it. “Listen, honey…”

“I’m not your honey anymore.”

“…sweetie?”

“I’m not your sweetie either, Martin. I’m not your anything but your child’s mother. I just thought you needed something in your life. That’s why I told those jerks where you were. That’s why I left you.” Martin could hear her frustration seething through her teeth. She quickly reverted back to a calm, cool voice. “Now, I have to go. John and I have a date.”

“Have fun.” Martin said, sardonically.

She hung up without so much as a goodbye.

Martin hung up his end of the phone after listening to the tone for a minute with a heavy heart. He laid on his back on his bed, and wondered where he went wrong. Siberia? Nepal? Egypt? South America? All these exotic places had caused nothing but trouble for him, but he still went, seeking the thrill and excitement of hunting down and studying the paranormal and the supernatural in the name of God. He made a small prayer, speaking softly to himself with his hands folded and his eyes closed.

“Dear God, please be a good God, and show me what I should do. Show me the way to a better life. Lead me out of this wretched cesspool of normality.”

He opened one eye and looked at Joey, who was peering back at him. The furry friend yawned.

“You’re right. He’s not going to answer that one.” Martin sat up and dug into his pants pocket and pulled out the note that the old man gave him. He took the phone in his hand again and began dialing.

When someone picked up the phone, Martin simply said: “I’m in.”