Ahhhhhh. Friday night, away from the wife and kid. The damn kid that wasn't supposed to be there. . .one vasectomy too late.

I was supposed to be playing poker with the guys, according to what I'd told my wife. I wasn't. I was alone, enjoying my overtime money at a Japanese restaurant, in my own little booth, with my laptop in front of me, expecting around an $80.00 bill plus tip.

This time 'I' was gonna enjoy my hard earned money from my long hours. I sure as hell had to do enough of them. Guess who quit her job to stay at home with the brat after she gave birth.?

So much for the plans. 'Oh, I don't have time for a kid. I'm not going to throw my college education and $60,000 a year salary away. . .' Yeah, she used to make more than me, not that I cared. Actually, it was kind of nice. Just because I was a man, I had no compunction about insisting I be the main breadwinner.

Uh huh! I was making a little less than that base pay now, but with the overtime; about 50% more. Boy, but what a price. I hated doing the 60 hour workweeks, and sometimes more. Love these stupid obligations I had to face from misplaced trust. . .NOT!

Oh, that rice they served was beyond compare. Loved the miso before the meal, the killer salad with rice vinegar, the eel, the lobster tempura, the chili tofu, and I wasn't going to be able to eat for two days after this feast. It was about time I treated myself. I was so sick of sacrificing the core of my being for someone who betrayed me, and the 6 year old piece of garbage in my life I barely acknowledged that I could have prevented; if only. . .hindsight weren't the only thing that was 20/20.

I was exhausted beyond exhausted so much of the time, but I had to pretend I was still the ball of fire I was in my twenties. I used to be able to do it all, but it was taking its toll. It was getting harder and harder to keep up the act. I was only in my early 40's, but I was breaking down. The former athlete who broke all the college track records. I wasn't all gone, but being able to jog 3 miles after running a marathon every year for 13 years was a bit of a let-down. I only did the three miles maybe a couple of times a month, and for how much longer?

I'm history now. So little time for myself. I was even getting fat, perish the thought. Lawrence T. Collins was fading away. Not exactly what I'd envisioned for myself.

Dessert. Mint sherbert. I was so stuffed, I wondered if I could even eat this little tidbit. I checked my computer again for a news update. A real news update. An alternative news update. Not the government controlled media lies.

China had just launched, and it was more than one firing. It was 100 missiles. All nuclear. After all the U.S. had done, it was no surprise.

I didn't finish the sherbert. I closed the laptop, took $200.00 out of my wallet, walked to my waitress very quickly, gave it her, told her to keep the change, and ran to my car.

How long before everyone knew about this?

I raced home. I did 70 miles an hour in 35 mile an hour zones, but hey! I didn't hit anyone, if it even mattered now; and I wasn't caught.

I didn't know where in the country we would be hit, but I lived in a potential strike zone; and I didn't want to be in the middle of town when we were hit, if we were hit. I had a place to go. A peaceful place, where I could watch the destruction and die at my own leisure. If we weren't hit, I could go home again; though I not sure I would.

I killed the engine a couple houses down from where I (yeah, 'we') lived, and coasted home. Manual steering on a mint, rebuilt old 1966 Mustang was a dream. I pulled into the driveway, so it was no problem not having to re-start the car.

I got out of the garage, and opened the front door of it. I didn't have an electric opener. It was an old house, and I never had one installed. How lazy can we get? I pulled my Yamaha Star Raider bike out, and left it next to my car. Could I get into the house unnoticed? My wife, Tiffany would probably be watching her prime time, wasting time. Erika would be asleep.

It was an attached garage, and I was lucky the door to the kitchen was open. We had a cat, so it wasn't really luck, but an expected convenience.

I didn't make a sound as I crossed the kitchen tiles to the carpet of the hall. I made it to the bedroom, and went to the safe in the closet. I had to turn on the light, but I had no choice.

I was a nervous wreck over the idea of being caught, and it took me 3 times to open the safe. It took willpower not to swear out loud. I pulled my 45 magnum out, a couple of clips, and closed up the safe. I took off my jacket, put my holster on, put myself together, and got out; not bothering to turn off the light.

I made it back to the garage. Whew. For the first time in my life, I was glad my wife was so hooked on prime time TV. Heh-heh-heh.

I didn't even bother closing the garage. I just took off. Good-bye Tiffany, and good-bye you worthless little intruder that was the too high of a price of a half hour of fun, or so.

My destination was 15 miles away. It was a park that contained the tallest mountain in the county. I'd have to park away from the park, and that would add an extra mile to my journey, but that was OK. I could handle it. I'd jog, and hopefully I wouldn't get caught by anyone. My gun was registered, but I didn't have a permit to carry a concealed weapon.

This time, I was a little more conservative on my speed. I think I only went about 10 miles over the limit. I laughed as I thought of my wife going out front to find the car parked, the garage open, and the motorcycle gone.

The ride was fast and easy after I got out of town. The hills to one side, and walled condos to the other. I saw very little traffic, and I ran a couple of lights, but hey. This was pretty sparse territory. A historical neighbourhood that had seen its days long ago.

During the day, this road was busy with commuters, but it was approaching 11:00 P.M., and there wasn't anything here. It was a thoroughfare, and nothing more.

When I was a mile away from the park, I parked the bike off road, well hidden by the bushes. It was my spot when I came up here. I'd hike this little mountain maybe once every month or two. . .by myself. Tiffany had lost interest in camping and hiking with the birth of her. . .I found it so hard to say 'our', kid.

I really hated Erika. I'd never laid a hand on her, but I did my best to have nothing to do with her. Tiffany and I had grown apart quite a bit because of this, but we stayed married for reasons of convenience. Cheaper to keep 'er. I had to admit, it was also nice not having to do half the housework anymore, coming home to dinner on the table a couple of times a week, and not having to run any of the errands. Tiffany insisted on doing all that, knowing it was fair.

Kind of. Her load was a hell of a lot lighter than mine.

'Daddy's tired. Leave him alone.' was music to my ears now. At least Tiffany knew a good thing when she had it. She used to do just as much overtime as me, we had a pretty equitable relationship in the period, and we shared way more than housework. We shared hobbies. We were quite well off in the old days. Now. . .yeah, my salary was good, the house was paid for, but I was supporting two other people in addition to myself in a faltering economy of high inflation, and it was all I could do. Resentmentville City had hit me hard, and everyone knew it.

And now. . .was there a way out of the life I'd grown to hate? Oh, I hoped so. Perhaps even if we weren't nuked, I'd shoot myself. Why not? The mess that had developed sure wasn't worth living.

Yeah, I would shoot myself. I just hoped I'd get to see what I was standing in right now, get burned to a toast.

I took off. It was like I forgot about the heavy dinner I'd eaten. It was late, my jeans were dark blue, my jacket was black, my hair was black, and I wasn't exactly pale. If I kept in the shadows, maybe I wouldn't be seen.

Good. No problems by the time I got to the park.

Of course I didn't run across the parking lot. I stuck with the trees, and worked my way to the trail up the mountain. With the cuts in funding, I was certain I wouldn't meet any rangers on night patrol. I'd slowed to a walk when I got onto the park property. I had to be alert and aware. As soon as I hit the trail, I took off again. I'd walk for the steeper parts of the trail, and run for the milder ones. The lighting wasn't the greatest, but I had a half moon; a few clouds to reflect some city lights, and I made it without twisting anything.

The trail was concrete down here, and pretty even. It would turn to dirt later. Then I'd walk. I also had to watch for critters. There were coyotes, cougars, skunks, and other hazards up here.

My progress was pretty fast.

When I hit the dirt, I ended up with one problem I hadn't thought about until now. It was cold. When I ran, I didn't notice it; but after I got to the unpaved part of the trail and it became foolhardy to run, I became quite aware of the elements. The destination altitude was almost 1 1/2 miles, it was late, and though it was late Summer, we were having a cold spell. Man, it was cold and windy up here during heat waves at high noon. And I was going to spend how long up here?

If this place got nuked via a land based missile, that might take place in another 6 hours or so, considering how long it took me to get to where I was since I heard the news. Or maybe a little less. I can't remember what time the launch took place. Oh well. I'd live. I'd been through worse. Too bad I didn't have any gloves, but hey.
It was less than a workshift. No problem.

How nice to die on a mountain top, I thought. I was hoping to high heaven we'd be nuked.

Yeah, I was taking my resentment out on society in general, but as far as I was concerned now; what else was it good for.

I was feeling absolutely paradoxical, and maybe a little psychopathic. I felt like a bullied child who was finally getting revenge in the worst possible way. I guess that was a good analogy.

I was feeling high over the fact that I was going to either get killed or kill myself. Escape. At the same time, I was feeling a lot of hate. I hated the wife who was once a partner and became a drain, I'd always hated Erika from the day she was conceived, I hated life, the world, everybody in it, and even myself for having allowed myself to be trapped in this way of living that I couldn't stand. And now I was going to kick it all in the face.

Can rage burn off the cold? As I got closer to the summit, it seemed like it. When I got to the summit, my anger got immediately flattened; kind of like Wile E. Coyote in one of those old 'toons.

There was a goddamn log cabin up there. Not only that, the door was open, there was light coming from the inside, and smoke was rising from the fireplace.

I was up here a month ago. The cabin hadn't been here. The park wouldn't have put it here, and it wouldn't have been allowed. This made no sense. It was all quite confusing.

Then again, the winds must have been going at about 30 miles an hour.

Should I draw my gun? Was there a threat?

No, I was the intruder. I left my jacket zipped up to hide the fact I was armed.

I approached the door. "Hello?"

"Come on in," said an Irish accent.

I looked inside. There was what looked like a late teenager sitting at a table in front of a fireplace in jeans, a long sleeved black shirt, and biker boots, with a tea pot, a couple of cups, and a plate of pastries in front of him. I was straighter than a ruler, but this kid was mighty cute for a guy. A pretty red head who you wouldn't have been able to tell was a guy, if he'd been in drag. "This place. It's not supposed to be here," I said.

"Neither are you. It's past curfew."

I smiled. "I'll tell you what. I won't tell anyone about you or this house, if you don't tell anyone about me."

He smiled back. "Works for me. It's cold out there. Come on in and have some tea and scones. You can close the door if you like."

I accepted his invitation. "Thanks." I walked in, and did close the door. It was a one room cabin, and all there was, was the table and the two chairs. "What is this place?"

"A way station. You came up here to watch the city destroyed from afar?"

"You know about the attack?"

He poured me some tea, and pushed the plate in my direction. The pastries were scones. They were cut in half, and buttered. I grabbed what looked like a blueberry scone. "Yes, Larry. I know about the attack. I also know you snuck out on your wife and child to experience this little dream of your life alone, as well as the fact you are wearing one mean retired police pistol given to you by a friend you lost touch with about ten years ago."

"And how do you know this, you who I have never seen before." If I wasn't so sure of myself, I may have felt threatened and blown him away; but circumstances just didn't seem to warrent that.

"I am a telepath, Mr. Collins. Now would you like to talk about all you just did so you can maybe come to terms with yourself, your life, and maybe get over it?"

"If you can read my mind, why bother? You already know everything about me, don't you?"

"Yes. From a more detached perspective than what you know about yourself. The discussion would be for your sake. Not mine. And pardon me for being so impolite. My name is Donn."

I bit into the scone, which tasted even better to me than the Japanese dinner I'd had a few hours ago. The tea was creamed, and fruity. Also delicious. "This is quite good, but what is it that I must face? I got stuck with responsibilities 5 years into a marriage that I thought I wouldn't be stuck with because that Tiffany bitch got her ass preggers."

"Uh. . .it wasn't her ass that got pregnant, and she didn't exactly get herself in that position. You did."

"I should have killed my fertility the day I turned 18. But still! She said. . .Donn, can you tell me if she did that on purpose?"

"It was an irresponsible moment."

"She should have gotten an abortion. I asked her a few times, but she refused. I guess Tiffany changed her mind to my chagrin, at the expense of my happiness, my discretionary time, no financial stress and getting enough sleep until that crotch dropping called Erika was out of the house."

"My, you are going to have fun when you see your Akashic Records; dude."

"What?" I asked with a scowl.

"You know what I'm talking about. You read everything there was to read about Edgar Cayce."

"But why did you say that?"

Donn had a sip of his tea, and put the cup down. "Lawrence, this place was hit one hour ago, five miles southwest, by a sea based ICBM. By Earth standards, you are dead. What you are experiencing now is an illusion created by me. Would you also like to know something else? You asked to experience all you experienced in life BEFORE you were born, as is the case with everyone else. Now what have you to say for yourself?"

"You mean I was stupid enough to ASK to be a father?"

"You wanted to experience the other side of being betrayed, to find out personally what it means to be in the so called favoured section of society living in a 'man's world', and by the way; Tiffany was your husband in your last life, and she. . .I mean he sure as hell treated your children better than you treated Erika."

"Erika wasn't supposed to have existed."

"You sure as hell made her know that. You rubbed it in, every opportunity you had. Looked right through her as if she wasn't there, and treating her like an errant box of cereal that fell of the grocery shelf and had to be stepped over. You seem to have gotten a Masters Degree in making people feel worthless. What if you'd been treated like that for no fault of your own, except the irresponsibility of one of your parents?"

Ouch. "I was. . .and still am an asshole. No, what I did wasn't very nice; but the expense to myself was pretty high, and I didn't appreciate it. Can I ask a question?"

"Yes, we can go outside, and you can see what is happening in the lowlands." A pair of binoculars appeared in his hand from thin air. He handed them to me. "These are night vision."

When I went outside, the air seemed still, and the moon was full. OK. I guess that proved what I was experiencing was an illusion.

There were fires raging in the south, and to the west. The fires were spreading north, and where I lived would be engulfed soon enough. This was a good time to be nuked. Late Summer, after several years of drought. The conflagration was pretty impressive to look at.

Donn asked me, "Would you like to see it up close? We can be there in less than a second, and being you're no longer a member of this realm of existence; you wouldn't feel anything. No pain. You could just see the results of the destruction and the pain from where it happened. The skeletal remains of those who were toasted in their beds, the night drivers in their burnt out cars, the remains of the staff of a restaurant, and a charred, collapsed customer over his or her last cup of coffee?"

"Maybe not."

"Would you like to hang around the next few days to see the wife you once conditionally loved so much die of radiation poisoning, along with your unwanted 18 year jail sentence. . .I mean daughter?"

"Donn?"

"I'm ripping you to shreds, huh?"

"Yeah."

"Good. So maybe you won't have to do this again. Come on. I don't think there's anything left for you here. Let me take you to my place and you can get yourself resolved there."

I actually felt a tear fall down my face. I extended a hand to the timeless one. "Thanks."

Donn smiled as he took my hand, and shook it. "Part of the job, dude."

AND BEFORE I FORGET AGAIN, HERE'S THE LINK TO THE REST:
http://allmyshortstories.blogspot.com/