Remembering Demons by J. Cornelius

Author:J. Cornelius [Cornelius, J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Fourier Publishing
Published: 2024-05-09T00:00:00+00:00

chapter 27

“There’s someone here to see you,” Susan said.

Daryl looked up from where he had been trying to read the electronic newspaper, using his mouth to leaf through the content. It was amazing how quickly your mind adjusted to new ways of doing things. He spit out the pointer.

Susan was speaking quietly to someone outside Daryl’s field of view. He was about to suggest that he would be right there when Werner stepped into the room.

Daryl’s mind froze. His friend looked good. Great, even.

“Hi Daryl,” Werner said, smiling uncertainly. “Mind if I come in?”

“Go ahead,” Daryl said, the words catching slightly in his suddenly dry throat.

“I’ll leave you two to talk,” Susan said, and she gently closed the door.

“Geez Daryl, I’m really sorry about what happened to you,” Werner said, a pained expression on his usually jovial face.

“Not your fault really,” Daryl said, pushing back hard against the bitterness that was trying to hijack his emotions.

“Fuck that,” Werner said. “You were trying to help me. You didn’t deserve that.”

“Thanks,” Daryl said. He looked away briefly. Unable to keep the emotion out of his voice he said, “I’m really glad you’re alright.”

“Yeah.” Werner said, taking a seat next to Daryl. The silence stretched for a bit. Finally, Werner leaned in.

“So, what did I miss?”

***

Werner had been holed up with a female relative and had spent the time getting reacquainted with his love of painting. Daryl had heard him speak of it before but had never seen any of his work. Werner had not painted while at the asylum, and he had not brought any of his prior works with him.

When she learned that he was not officially checked out of the clinic, she had reported his whereabouts to the local police, and they had come by and picked him up.

They skirted around Daryl’s experiences in the basement. Whether because Werner was embarrassed about his part in Daryl’s injury, or if he simply did not care that much about the particulars, Daryl could not tell. The latter was very much out of character for Werner, but on the whole he seemed . . . different. More at ease, less obsessive.

***

Susan sat in her customary place. Neither of them had spoken for several minutes. She seemed lost in thought, and Daryl had a hard time remembering what they had been discussing the last time they met.

Finally, she spoke. “Do you really believe that Hubble is real? Truly?”

“Susan . . .” he began, ready to defend his visions for the hundredth time.

“No Daryl,” she interrupted with an unusually stern look. “An invisible gnome with a pet chicken? Come on!”

Daryl looked down slightly embarrassed, a familiar doubt creeping across his brain.

“Actually,” he ventured, “the chicken died.”

Susan chortled while raising a hand to rub the skin between her eyebrows.

“Well, it’s elaborate. I’ll give you that.”

With that she bent over to reach for her briefcase, which she always deposited on the small table by his bed. Daryl heard the two muffled clicks as she opened the clasps to retrieve something from within.

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