Get out of my dreams by Fernando Trujillo Sanz

Author:Fernando Trujillo Sanz
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2014-07-09T04:00:00+00:00

I found my mother crying, sitting on the sofa with her head in her hands and her elbows resting on her knees. She tried to get hold of herself when she heard me come in the living room by quickly wiping her eyes on her sleeve, but it was too late to hide the obvious.

“Mom, are you all right?”

I set my backpack on the floor, sat down next to her and hugged her tightly. She continued to cry as I held her. I desperately hoped it was just an attack of raging hormones from the pregnancy like what my father had explained to me. I noticed a strange smell in the room as I was hugging my mother and waiting for her to regain her composure. It was a horrible stench that buried the typical flowery aroma of the plants that filled the room.

“Oh, Son. It was terrible . . .” she said in a trembling voice.

“What was, Mom?”

“The canary . . .”

It was one of the few birds I could identify from my mother’s vast collection. I didn’t really like any of them, but especially not the canary—that annoying little feathered lemon never shut up. The stupid creature liked his version of singing. And he liked it a lot. Unfortunately, he never lost his voice no matter how much his tiny beak whistled.

I glanced at his cage and noticed it was covered, but I assumed it was so the bird would think it was nighttime. I discovered the real reason when I pulled off the sheet to look at the canary.

The stench immediately intensified, permeating the air around me. The canary was gone; in his place was a small pile of smoking flesh and a few scorched feathers. It was disgusting. I covered the cage back up.

“Mom, you didn’t get burned, did you?”

I had no idea what had happened, but I was alarmed, and worried about my mother’s burns.

She shook her head. “No. I found him like that.”

“Where’s Dad?”

“Working.”

“And you don’t know what happened to the canary?”

She shook her head again and wiped a tear as it ran down the deformed skin on her cheek. It took me a long time to calm her down. I promised her we’d buy another canary, then got her settled down enough to watch some TV until she fell asleep.

I had to plug my nose when I dealt with the mess in the cage. My intention had been to clean it, but I was so grossed out by it I decided to just chuck it all. I put it in a huge garbage bag and left it in the garage.

Afterward, I stretched out on my bed to think, my pulse racing from an electrifying curiosity. The incident with the bird had flipped a switch in my mind and I now had a hunch I was close to making sense of all this craziness. I breathed deeply, concentrated, and grabbed a pen and a notebook. I reviewed my dreams about the twins and made notes about the “gifts” I’d brought out of each one.

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