Deep in the mind of all humans lies a singular point, this point defines reality from the void.
Many years ago, longer than I care to admit I found myself in the company of one Albert Fitsimmons a preeminent psychologist at the time. The circumstances of our meeting were purely happenstance, a late night drink at local establishment and an overheard conversation…
“These dreams are getting worse Hap, at first I’m floating and then I’m pulled in 20 directions at once, every part of me stretched”
“Too much drink before bed time I think Mr O’Farrel”
“Nonsense Hap, this is the only way I can sooth myself to sleep”
“Well, maybe its the weather then, I’ve not seen storms like this for years, the waves crashing against the lighthouse seem to be getting bigger every day”
“Aye, just maybe it is. Another round Hap”
The bar keeper reached below and grabbed a cracked bottle of brown liquor and poured it into the cup, spilling some across what looked to be a freshly varnished table.
“Ah, shit” he groaned and grabbed the closest rag to wipe it up.
“There you go Mr O’Farrel”
As I looked down into my glass a face suddenly appeared - a reflection.
“An who might you be?”
I turned my head to see a small sheepish man who had settled onto the stool next to me.
“I am sorry to be interrupting you sir but I accidentally overheard your conversation”
“So? And whats that to you?”
“Well my name is Albert Fitsimmons, you see I am a doctor of sorts, a psychologist.”
“A psychologist? What the hell are you doing in a town like Blackpoint? There is nothing here for you”
“Be that as it may, I find dreams to be fascinating and would love to hear more about the dreams you are having. Barkeep - I would like to pay for all of Mr O’Farrel’s drinks tonight, anything he wants’
“That your loss, Mr O’Farrel knows how to drink” smirked Hap.
“Well, I guess there is no harm in talking about dreams and I do appreciate an offer of free drink”
As the night progressed I regaled the content of my dreams to Mr Fitsimmons leaving no detail out as the drinks flowed freely.
*Ding, Ding, Ding - Thats it, everyone out” yelled Hap.
“Fascinating, fascinating, fascinating dreams Mr O’Farrel. Would you be interested in exploring these dreams further with me?”
I pushed back on the hind legs of my stool.
“Fasi… What arree…, I…, maybe… Sure I’m here most nights” I said - slurring heavily.
“A quieter more private location might be preferable. Here take one of my cards”
Albert handed his card over to me and I clumsily stuffed it in my to pocket.
“We will see, time for me to leave - Thanks Hap’
“Goodnight Mr O’Farrel safe journeys’
I slid off my stool and stumbled my way past the empty tables, through the door and out onto the street.
It was around midnight and the rain had not let up, if anything it had gotten worse.
“Rain…” I mumbled pulling my coat up over my head. It was a 30 minute walk to my apartment and in close to pitch black. The lanterns that lined the street had mostly been snuffed out.
Turning left I made my way along the cobbled path, most reputable businesses were already closed, it was only a certain type of person who stayed out this late. People like me I thought, someone who works to keep these people safe.
“Ugh” I groaned, too much to drink tonight, definitely too much to drink.
crack…
Lightning forked across the sky.
Hap was right, these storms do seem to be getting worse.
I quickened my pace hoping to make it home before the rain go any heavier’
snap
An uneven patch of ground and for a second the entire world felt like it was heaving.
My face was the first thing to hit, then the rest of my body in a belly flop like motion.
I rolled over wincing in pain, my ears were ringing and blood had started running from my nose.
“God damn it, of all the the things tonight…”
I pushed myself up onto my knees and clasped my face in both hands waiting for my vision to come back and hoping to smother some of the pain.
As I steadied myself on both legs I noticed that the rain had completely stopped, finally a break.
I made my way along the remanding path back to my apartment, fumbling with my keys whilst trying to unlock my door.
“Another big night Mr O’Farrel?” a shrill voice squawked.
“None of your business Mrs Kennedy” I snapped back
“Alright, alright no need to get hot headed, are you sure your are okay? You look pale”
“All is well Mrs Kennedy, I would remind you to mind your own business”
slam
The door to Mrs Kennedy's house slammed shut and I finally had some peace and quiet.
My room was sufficient, a rack for my coat and hat, a small sturdy desk with two candle holders currently overflowing with various paperwork and a small, hard yet decently comfortable bed with a simple side table holding one of my notebook.
The drink had finally caught up with me and with a thump I fell face first and fully clothed onto the bed.
Now you see my dreams are not like normal dreams, my dreams pulse like the second hand of a clock, they flash, burn and seethe between different visions most not making sense. Then there are the pauses - the blackness, the feeling of being held and squeezed by something, tighter and tighter until… I wake up.
I was stuck.
My eyes were open, I was looking directly at the ceiling of my room but I couldn’t move.
I tried to talk but my words came out as a mumble.
“Wh… Wh… Wh… Wha… What..”
Mustering every bit of energy my body could provide I heaved my left leg over and managed to tip myself out of bed onto the floor.
As I lay on the ground my breathing labored the malaise that seemed to be restricting my movement past and I was left drenched in sweat on the cold damp timber floor.
My eyes scanned the room, everything seemed to be in it’s assumed place, the window located on the far wall was open and rain had started to pool on the floor. Was that open when I came in? Not that I would have noticed when I in last night - I don’t recall how many drinks I had ‘enjoyed’ but it was more than usual.
I made my way over to the window and slammed it shut.
I looked down at the water that had pooled on the floor and noticed the splashes of blood on my shirt.
“What happened last night” I groaned.
I walked over to my desk to find my pocket watch, 5:47 AM.
“Not bad, maybe I wont be late for work today”
I grabbed my clothes and ventured out into the communal apartment showers. 20 minutes later feeling a little fresher than before I packed my bag and head out onto Pike Street.
Mornings in Blackpoint were livelier than you would expect form such a small town. Bakers, butchers and local store owners were getting things ready for their days trade.
“Hello, Mr O’Farrel”
“Henry” I nodded.
“Looks like the rain has let up, a good omen for sure”
“An Omen” I scoffed, “Lets just hope we get more than a few hours, constant rain doesn't make for a great writing partner”
“You just need to have a little more faith James” Henry said sighing.
“One day Henry, but for now I just need to make sure I am not late again. Good Day”
“Good Day Mr O’Farrel”
I made my way along Pike Street turning left down St Names and right onto Main and up the stairs into work.
The “Blackpoint Herald” a bastion of riveting reporting with major focus on cats stuck in trees and Mrs Eaglemonts famous blackberry pies.
“How did I end up here” I thought.
Making my way to my desk I noticed a grubby note written on what looked like the back of a candy wrapper.
… O’Farrel
… The bosses want to speak with you as soon as you get in’
‘Just great, what now’
The Blackpoint Herald was owned by twin brothers incompetence and bluster I’d like to call them but Chester and Montague some how fell into the ownership of the god forsaken rag after their father past away, leaving them a fleet of small fishing vessels. Selling the fishing boats and buying the Herald might have been one of the stupidest things they had done but the list was just so very long.
I pushed my way into their office
“O’Farrel we heard you had a few too many drinks last night” said Chester
“Yeah, telling a few tall tails were you” Montague parroted.
“I’m not quite sure what you mean gentlemen”
“There are no gentlemen here O’Farrel who were you yapping too and what was his name”
“Indeed” I muttered under my breath.
“Well, the man in question was a psychologist seemingly from out of town. He overheard me speaking with Hap and decided it would be worth investing some gold into the quenching of my thirst”
“The quenching of your thirst you say? Well it may pain you to know that Albert, that was his name yes? Was found dead this morning”
“Dead?” I reeled in shock. “Are you sure?”
“As dead as out dear daddy” Montague chuckled spit spraying from the corner of his mouth.
“How? I parted ways with him just after last call before making my way back home” I stammered.
“Strangled they say”
“Yeah the old geezer was found face down in a puddle of mud”
“The police will want to question you but seeing you already spoke with him we want you to cover the story. Always good to have someone with a little insider knowledge. You’ve got till the end of the week”
Chester turned to Montague licking his lips.
“This just may be what we need to sell a few extra papers brother”
“Oh it will” he smiled. “And… O’Farrel make it juicy, I want suspense, I was gore, I want all of the details, I want everything”
His fist hammered into the desk.
“Now GO!”
I stumbled back out of their office my head spinning.