The Devil's Dream: Waking Up Read Online Free
Author: David Beers
kept his eyes on the television.
"Good. Now that we got the un-pleasantries out of the way, it's time for the really bad shit to begin. You ready to go find Brand?"
Joe affirmed that he was, indeed, ready.
* * *
" L arry ?" Joe said into the phone. He knew it was his brother, had heard him say hello, but it was like he wanted confirmation. He wanted to make sure his ears were relaying the truth to him, because for so long—he was now realizing—he shouldn't have trusted himself. For years his mind had been, if not lying to him, certainly not showing him the truth—not showing him reality. His mind somehow tricked him into thinking cocaine was reality and everything else extraneous bullshit. None of that was true though; Larry had been right. It was all garbage.
"Yeah, Joe. It's Larry. Who else would it be?"
Joe felt tears in his eyes. Had he cried over the last few days? He didn't remember, but he was close now. Sitting here using this drug dealer's phone, listening to his brother's voice, sober for the first time in years, he thought he might.
"I, um...I'm clean, Larry," he said into the phone, having no idea he would say it or what would come next.
"You're what?"
"I'm clean. I'm sober. I kicked it."
Silence came across the airwaves and Joe didn't interrupt it. He just waited.
"Are you lying to me?" Larry asked finally.
"No. I woke up today, finally through all the withdrawals."
Joe heard a whoosh of air come through the telephone, like his brother had been holding in a sigh for two years and was finally releasing it. "Oh, thank God. Are you okay?"
Joe looked down at the ground and the tears in his eyes fell. Dripping first to his face and then to the floor as gravity had its way with them. "Yeah, I'm okay, Larry. I'm exhausted, but I'm okay."
"Where are you? I'll come get you right now and bring you home."
The tears flowed faster as all the pain held inside over the past year rushed to the surface, ready to explode, ready to cast away the chains that he shackled it with inside his head. Joe closed his eyes. "I can't come home."
"What? Why not? If you're sober, why in the hell wouldn't you come home?"
And there it was, something he had missed because of the drug. His brother thought all of this stemmed from the drug, thought the whole thing, his entire search had been inspired and propelled forward by cocaine. He didn't understand that the cocaine only freed him to begin searching, had allowed him to escape the depression so that he could leave Larry's basement and start looking for Brand.
"I sobered up so that I could finish this, Larry. I'm going to find Brand. In the next week or so, I'm going to be face to face with him."
"Jesus Christ," Larry said. The relief that had owned his voice deadened, turning to the same tired expression Joe had grown used to. "You're not serious. You're not still going after him."
"I am. I...I just wanted to call you and let you know that I'm seeing things clearly now, for the first time in a long time. I wanted you to know, in case I don't make it out of what comes next, that I'm sober."
"Are you happy, though?" His brother asked.
That was a word Joe hadn't considered since he woke up. Joe didn't think himself capable of feeling happiness anymore, even now, with his mind as close to normal as he could get it. "I'm not looking for happiness, I don't think. I'm just trying to find justice."
More silence came over the line and again, Joe didn't break it.
"I hope you find it. Goodbye, Joe," he said.
Joe listened as his brother hung up the phone, thinking that he might have been dead to Larry long before this phone call.
4
M atthew grabbed the body from the back of the van. A few weeks ago he would have been able to carry one on each shoulder, but those days were gone. Now he could only carry one at a time, which was fine. He would get the job either way, even if a bit slower now.
Getting the job done. That was the important part.
He walked across the gravel, the
"Good. Now that we got the un-pleasantries out of the way, it's time for the really bad shit to begin. You ready to go find Brand?"
Joe affirmed that he was, indeed, ready.
* * *
" L arry ?" Joe said into the phone. He knew it was his brother, had heard him say hello, but it was like he wanted confirmation. He wanted to make sure his ears were relaying the truth to him, because for so long—he was now realizing—he shouldn't have trusted himself. For years his mind had been, if not lying to him, certainly not showing him the truth—not showing him reality. His mind somehow tricked him into thinking cocaine was reality and everything else extraneous bullshit. None of that was true though; Larry had been right. It was all garbage.
"Yeah, Joe. It's Larry. Who else would it be?"
Joe felt tears in his eyes. Had he cried over the last few days? He didn't remember, but he was close now. Sitting here using this drug dealer's phone, listening to his brother's voice, sober for the first time in years, he thought he might.
"I, um...I'm clean, Larry," he said into the phone, having no idea he would say it or what would come next.
"You're what?"
"I'm clean. I'm sober. I kicked it."
Silence came across the airwaves and Joe didn't interrupt it. He just waited.
"Are you lying to me?" Larry asked finally.
"No. I woke up today, finally through all the withdrawals."
Joe heard a whoosh of air come through the telephone, like his brother had been holding in a sigh for two years and was finally releasing it. "Oh, thank God. Are you okay?"
Joe looked down at the ground and the tears in his eyes fell. Dripping first to his face and then to the floor as gravity had its way with them. "Yeah, I'm okay, Larry. I'm exhausted, but I'm okay."
"Where are you? I'll come get you right now and bring you home."
The tears flowed faster as all the pain held inside over the past year rushed to the surface, ready to explode, ready to cast away the chains that he shackled it with inside his head. Joe closed his eyes. "I can't come home."
"What? Why not? If you're sober, why in the hell wouldn't you come home?"
And there it was, something he had missed because of the drug. His brother thought all of this stemmed from the drug, thought the whole thing, his entire search had been inspired and propelled forward by cocaine. He didn't understand that the cocaine only freed him to begin searching, had allowed him to escape the depression so that he could leave Larry's basement and start looking for Brand.
"I sobered up so that I could finish this, Larry. I'm going to find Brand. In the next week or so, I'm going to be face to face with him."
"Jesus Christ," Larry said. The relief that had owned his voice deadened, turning to the same tired expression Joe had grown used to. "You're not serious. You're not still going after him."
"I am. I...I just wanted to call you and let you know that I'm seeing things clearly now, for the first time in a long time. I wanted you to know, in case I don't make it out of what comes next, that I'm sober."
"Are you happy, though?" His brother asked.
That was a word Joe hadn't considered since he woke up. Joe didn't think himself capable of feeling happiness anymore, even now, with his mind as close to normal as he could get it. "I'm not looking for happiness, I don't think. I'm just trying to find justice."
More silence came over the line and again, Joe didn't break it.
"I hope you find it. Goodbye, Joe," he said.
Joe listened as his brother hung up the phone, thinking that he might have been dead to Larry long before this phone call.
4
M atthew grabbed the body from the back of the van. A few weeks ago he would have been able to carry one on each shoulder, but those days were gone. Now he could only carry one at a time, which was fine. He would get the job either way, even if a bit slower now.
Getting the job done. That was the important part.
He walked across the gravel, the
Readers choose
Tim Harper, Christopher Bayly
dakota cassidy
Priscilla Cummings
David Solomons
Olivia Starke
Lucius Shepard
Sierra Cartwright
Elizabeth Nelson
Rex Stout
B.L Wilde