THE LIGHT

A SHORT STORY BY DAN JIRE

The icy road tugged. Adam knew he should’ve tapped the brakes, but his foot held out of habit. He wasn’t stopping. Then a thump. Thud. Ssssccrrrrr. The sleet and snow covered curb caught him and bounced him back into his lane. The light ahead turned green and the SUV in front of Adam’s compact car jutted forward. The accident had been avoided.

Adam sighed.

His wheels caught slush and provided some kind of traction as he inched forward. He should’ve called out today. He had seen the weather report, but nothing had fallen from the sky when he left his house at 5 A.M. By the time he reached work, it still hadn’t. Then, within an hour the whole Richmond landscape had turned to mess and if he didn’t leave work right then and there then he would never make it through the back roads of Goochland County.

Of course, now he might not make it out of Richmond at all. 

An unpleasant rattle practiced percussion like a novice fan of Lars Ulrich.  Something was wrong with his car. He must’ve done some real damage when he bumped the curb.  If he didn’t stop now, he might be stranded somewhere on Interstate 64 or worse.   Adam did the responsible thing for a twenty-three year old and pulled over to inspect his car.

His dress shoes invited the cold wet snow in as he walked around his car at a gas station.  Within a few seconds, he was staring dumbly at a missing hubcap and no sign of damage, though clumps of frozen sleet crammed themselves in his wheel wells. He fought the dirty snow out with his hands, freezing them in the process. The plastic mud flap had been yanked down inside. He could see it was torn to shreds, dangling beneath the car. Probably causing all kinds of problems. He tugged it but it wouldn’t budge. He had to get it out before he resumed driving. He could only imagine there was something dangerous about having it dragging through sleet for the next twenty miles.  He yanked again. Some plastic black buttons popped, but the rest of the flimsy black plastic was still attached beneath the car somewhere and it wouldn’t tear.

Adam unwillingly lay down on the cold snow and stuck his head beneath the wheel. He could almost see what was holding the piece still. But it was too dark. He crawled back to his feet and shook the sleet from his shoulders.

“Car trouble?”

Adam turned to see a woman a bit older than he. He smiled and nodded.

“They don’t make these cars for this kind of weather,” Adam said. “Richmond doesn’t normally get this much of a winter.”

“You’re telling me. Seems like it’s the end of the world when it’s sixty degrees one day and fifteen the next.”

Adam laughed. “That’s Virginia for you. If you don’t like the weather wait a day.”

The woman smiled and extended her hand. She held a small black flashlight.

“You need a light?”

Adam nodded. “Thank you.”

He didn’t want to inconvenience the woman any so he immediately dropped back down beneath his car. He saw the final piece obstructing him and broke it off. He arose from the brown slush triumphantly with the black plastic and the flashlight.

The woman was gone.

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Adam arrived home an hour later. Traffic was slow, but steady while the radio rattled off accident after accident. Adam hadn’t seen a car stopped on the side of the interstate. No one acted obnoxiously and as he counted down the sketchy turns in the remainder of his drive he couldn’t help but think the storm had turned out to be less than he had feared.

He looked at the side of his car one more time as he left it at the end of his driveway. He was happy there was no visual damage. He couldn’t afford that. Then his eyes looked to his house and he knew before he even tried a switch.

He had lost power.

“Thank you, lady,” he said to himself as he leaned back into his car and grabbed the flashlight. The whole drive, he wondered if he had just missed where the woman was standing and she was currently cursing him because he drove off with her flashlight.

Or maybe she was a guardian angel.

She was almost pretty enough to be.

Adam skated along the now ice-layered snow and sleet and dared to go further than his front door if only to check to see if it was just the circuit breakers that had been tripped by the storm. But he could see that the neighbors’ houses through the trees were dark. The sky above was just too dark not warrant a light on in the kitchen or the glow of a news report on television.

The circuit breaker was tried again and again, but to no avail. Adam was going to be without power until Rappahannock Cooperative’s trucks braved the nasty roads to give him back his Internet, television, and microwave.  He just hoped his house had retained some of the heat.

He kicked off his ice caked shoes and the house was easily warmer than outside. He removed his dirt-covered coat and pants and sought out layers and blankets in the darkness—just the soft glow of the white snow through the windows and the woman’s black flashlight poking holes in the darkness.

His cellphone chimed and buzzed at the same time. He fumbled it until he could read the name of the caller. And answered with a forced chipper.

“Good Morning, Tasha.”

“Daddy, they cancelled school again.”

“I know, what’s that make the total? 2 weeks?”

“The teachers said it means we won’t get Memorial Day off, but who cares, at least I don’t have to go today.”

“Yeah. Is your mom there?”

“No, she had to work. Ray is here.”

Ray was supposed to be Tasha’s dad now. He was a lawyer and almost twice Adam’s ex’s age. But he was able to support them enough that Adam was waived any child support payments. Along with that, he waived visitation rights. It was calls like these that meant a damn. She was only five, but Tasha still wanted to speak with her real father. Adam would drop everything for these calls.

“Are you going to have a snowball fight?”

“Nah, it’s too cold. All the snow is ice. Are you home?”

“Yeah, just got in.”

“Are the roads as bad as they say on TV?”

“It’s the other drivers you’ve got to look out for,” Adam said.

“Why do I hear crackling?”

“Power is out maybe the cellphone towers are having issues too.”

“Your power is out? Are you going to freeze to death?”

“No, I’ll be fine.”

“Good. Wanted to say I love you. Okay, Bye now.”

“Love you too, bye now.”

If Adam’s heart were outside it would be springtime.  He loved his little girl. The older she got the cooler she became. She had cares and interests and by some luck she still called him Daddy and still called him if not every other day about once a week at the very least.

Adam flicked the flashlight along the wall.

He jumped.

For a moment he swore he saw his ex standing there, glaring at him. It was such a familiar face. They’d tried to make it as a couple, but thankfully never married.

This was almost their home.

Tasha was better off now.

Adam was glad Tasha was safe and warm today.

He walked over and should’ve guessed that the thermostat didn’t work. He wondered just how cold it was in the house. It was warmer than outside, but the chill on his nose hadn’t disappeared since coming in and the initial warmth he felt was dissipating.

He went into the bedroom and found himself some extra layers of clothing. He thought of just laying in bed all day.

He picked the flashlight back up. In a flash of light, he was almost certain he heard Tasha’s voice.

He dug his cellphone out of his pocket. He expected her to be on the line still, but she wasn’t.  It had been his imagination. He saw that his phone battery was about dead. Panic did not set in. He wouldn’t mind it if his phone died and gave him peace and quiet.

But Adam didn’t know how he’d spend the day. Maybe he would read for a change. He was sure he had a book somewhere in the house. Probably one his ex had left. She left plenty. She didn’t want anything that reminded her of him. Sometimes he was surprised that she had taken Tasha with her.  If he’d had a better job maybe he would’ve fought for custody. But there’s no way he could have afforded her. Tasha deserved better.

Adam plopped down on his recliner and kicked his feet up. For now, the blank wall was his source of entertainment. He swung the flashlight over it again. It was his eyes playing trick on him—had to be—the pictures that used to be there were hung again. He pulled the light away and stared at the darkened blank wall. Then he moved the flashlight back over it.

“No way,” he gasped.

The pictures were there again.

He jumped from his recliner and walked towards the wall. The pictures waited for him. He looked at the coastal scene. His ex had taken that one, then the picture of a newborn Tasha.  She had taken that as well. There was even the picture from their prom, but Adam was certain that one had been burned or trashed.

He took the flashlight off the wall and felt the empty space. The wall was bare, painted drywall.

Something felt wrong, the hairs on the back of his neck jerked to attention.

It felt as if someone was in the house with him.

He twisted and flashed the light across the living room. Something small darted behind the couch. An animal?

Adam walked up on top of the couch and peered over. There was Tasha. She giggled and ran out of the light. He flicked it across the room again.

He was alone.

Adam had never heard of a bad pot of coffee before, but maybe there was something in it and the three cups he’d had that morning. He couldn’t believe what he saw wasn’t real. But it didn’t make any sense at all.

He ran the flashlight over the windows. The face was like anger, glaring in at him. He held the flashlight as the man’s wrinkled and tense face muttered through the glass.

“Who are you? What do you want?” Adam screamed.

The mouth continued to move but Adam had never learned to read lips. He could read eyes and he knew the man in the window was angry.

Adam lowered the flashlight out of the man’s eyes.

And he, like everything else he’d shone the light on, had vanished.

Or was it that simple?

Adam turned the light off and checked his windows, hoping to see the man’s footprints in the snow, but there was nothing to indicate a man had ever stood there.

The liquor cabinet was almost empty. Adam wasn’t a big drinker, but he’d had one ever since he was eighteen years old and some of the gin actually dated back that far. It was his only hope now. He could drink enough and sleep through the delusions he was suffering from too much caffeine.

He downed a glass and remembered why he hadn’t needed to buy more gin.

He wished he had some cough medicine instead.

But he stumbled instantly. He had always been a lightweight and the alcohol had struck him faster than he could’ve imagined. He stumbled into his bedroom hoping to pass out once and for all.

“Better use the light,” he blurted as he turned on the flashlight and shone it towards his bed. He could feel his gait crumbling from lightheadedness.

The moans were soft. The covers shifted and veered back, dropping off a man’s shoulders.  They were all at once familiar and foreign.  Two female hands pulled them back down, digging nails into his shoulder blades.

He knew those hands anywhere. He’d tried too hard to forget them.

“What the hell are you doing? You’re supposed to be at work!” Adam yelled at the couple making love on his bed. “Hey!”

Adam darted around the bed to get their attention.

“Get out of my—”

Adam slammed into the nightstand. He stumbled against the wall and his hand found the curtain. He twisted it so hard that it snapped the rod. The back of his head snapped against the glass.

At least the blood was warm.

Adam was soaked in sleet as if it had found the one opening in the window and rushed through like a broken levee.  He knew he had been lying there for more than a minute. It might’ve been longer. He had blacked out. All the clocks he could normally count on were still off. It was dark in his house except for the little black flashlight that was causing all his hallucinations.

He tried to touch the back of his head, but pain shot through his shoulder. There was glass there. He couldn’t believe it. He had made it safely home and now he would bleed to death. It sounded so stupid that he laughed.

He grasped for the flashlight. At least his fingers still worked.  He dragged himself inch-by-inch, knowing he was ruining the carpet with bloodstains that would be so hard to explain.

That’s when his phone gave a chirp. More good news. The battery was on its way out.

This time his scream echoed through his empty and cold house.  He dug into his pocket. He had to make one more call.

His thumb worked like a heel as he battled to scroll though the list of contacts on his phone. In retrospect, he wished he’d just picked the first one. But he called Ray instead.

The phone rang and rang.

Another chirp.

“Come on, Ray, pick up.”

He should’ve called 911. They’d never get here in time. They would be busy with all the accidents on the interstate and back roads.

Another chirp.

The call went to Ray’s voice mail.

“Ray, Ray, please get this, I’m bleeding bad. I’m hurt. At house. Come on, Ray, battery is—

Adam could feel the lack of a glow from his cellphone’s screen. He didn’t know when it had cut off, maybe at the last chirp.  He started desperate pep talks.

You’re going to be okay.

He should’ve had a landline. Nobody has a landline these days.

He should’ve gone to bed. He was just seeing things. He was sick, tired. Now he was probably going to die.

You’re not going to die!

He was convinced it wasn’t as bad as it seemed. He was incapacitated from the alcohol. It had thinned his blood so he bled out a little more and all he needed to do was sober up, drag his phone out to his car and use the cellphone charger.

Get up.

“Daddy, daddy!”

At the edge of the light, he could see Tasha’s black buckled shoes and white stockings. His face found a smile and held it until it hurt.

“What, Tasha? Go get help, Daddy’s hurt.”

“Daddy, Santa Claus did come!”

“What are you talking about? It’s February.”

“He must’ve come when me and Mommy were at church!”

“Oh?”

The look on his daughter’s face was so excited. She dashed out of the light and then she was back into frame, a man lurched out with her.

Adam recognized the pants immediately.  They were his torn red and green flannel ones that he used to wear on Christmas morning. He remembered this. He shot the light out of his bedroom and could just catch the living room where he thought he could see the lights of the Christmas tree, a tree that hadn’t been there since his ex left.

“Tasha?” he called.

He could hear her laughing and begging to unwrap the presents.

His ex had wanted them not to buy anything that year.  Adam remembered that. His little girl cried that morning when she woke up to the three presents Adam’s mom had left under the tree two weeks before. Adam’s ex had the brilliant idea to tell their daughter that she needed to pray. Christmas wasn’t about presents.

But Adam didn’t go to mass that morning. Tucked away in the trunk of his car he’d ravaged a thrift store. He could almost taste the gasoline he had to siphon that week. But while his ex stormed out to church, Adam worked hard to wrap each present. Marking each one from Santa.

Tasha screeched with joy.

“Santa was just late,” Adam heard himself say. “There’s way more kids these days than when I was a kid.”

“Adam.” His ex’s voice was cold and bitter.

“It’s Christmas,” he said.

“We can’t afford this. Now you have to take them back. Get your money back. You kept the receipts didn’t you?”

Tasha erupted. “A playhouse, this is the one I always wanted!”

Adam smiled from the bloodstained carpet. He knew it wasn’t. It was close enough. He’d spent a good bit of elbow grease cleaning it.

“Open the next one,” Adam said.

A door slammed. Adam remembered his ex had stormed off into the bathroom.

Screw her.

The light met Tasha’s face. It was as if she was looking back at him, straight through the crack in the door into the bedroom.

“I love you, Daddy,” she said. She always knew when they fought.

It was then that Adam knew he would die. Was this what they meant by your life flashing between your eyes? Was this flashlight magical? Had it allow him to see his smiling daughter’s face one last time?

Adam tried to keep his eyes open as the cold bit him. He hoped the batteries in the flashlight would last longer than he would. He wanted Tasha to be the last thing he saw.

Tasha smiled at him. And the memory played over.

“I love you, Daddy.”

I love you.

Daddy.

“Daddy.”

Adam winced. Something chirped beside him, it wasn’t his cellphone battery.  Beep. There it was again and Adam knew it was timed with his heart because he could feel that thumping in his chest.

Tasha smiled at him, her eyes losing all concern and ability to fake a smile. This smile was genuine.

“Blue wasn’t a good color on you, by the way,” she said.

“I’m alive?”

“Yeah, Ray got your message. It cut off so I made him check up on you. When your phone kept going to voicemail, we came after you.”

“You did?”

“Yeah, Mom’s in the lobby they won’t let her smoke and she’s angry. We got to you just in time is what the doctor said. Good thing you got a lot of blood? They said cause it was so cold, it kept you from bleeding to death”

Adam winced from the pain of the stitches. “Ray still here?”

Tasha shook her head.  “Next time you call me, Daddy. I’ll always answer.”

THE END.

© 2022 DAN JIRE, ALL RIGHTS RESERVED