Dreams of a Better Place - Part 5

Trevor watched Mister Bumbles, and his old friend watched him back, its huge black eye worse than the dark that lay in his closet at night time. His new friend called to him but he couldn’t answer. He was trying his best not to cry or scream, to be a good boy. He didn’t want the nice man to hit him like his daddy did when he made too much noise.

But he was just a little tyke and he couldn’t control the flood of emotion that was welling up behind the dam of his lips. He let out a scream of desperation, and the giant bear and the not-so-giant man echoed it, like a chorus in a bizarre church where the pews were Lego and the floor was a bouncy castle. The building shook and rumbled, like a giant tummy growling, and the bear moved away and replaced it’s endlessly black eye with a reaching and grasping hand.

It shouldn’t have fit, but Mister Bumbles made it, and the wall began to crumble around it. Trevor was frozen to the spot as he wailed, and the hand wrapped around him, ready to squeeze him, but not in the nice way that he had once squeezed the bear. Not in that way at all…

****

Mark saw the bear’s paw curl around Trevor like a python, and he looked around frantically for something to hit it with. All he saw was a few toys and stuffed animals. Was there anything in this world that was dangerous apart from this damn giant bear? He took a chance and jumped onto the paw, sinking his teeth and fingernails in as deep as he could and praying that the bear could feel pain too. Bracing his feet on the ground, he ripped out a chunk of brown fur and flesh with his mouth and spat it across the room, trying not to taste it.

The bear howled in pain and indignation, pulling its hand back out the window, making the hole bigger and making the building tremble further, with white fluff and stuffing spewing from the wound in a geyser. It would have been comical if the bear wasn’t so huge and murderous. Mark scooped up the crying child, and carried him gently and quickly towards the door and down the stair case, using his body to shield Trevor without even thinking. He reached the top of the winding staircase and before he could begin his descent, a massive paw crashed through the wall behind him with the force of a wrecking ball.

Debris tumbled around him and the force of the blow sent him toppling head over heels down the staircase. He curled his body into a ball to protect Trevor but he hardly needed to bother. The staircase was entirely made of pillows and if they weren’t being hunted by a giant killer stuffed toy, the journey probably would have been fun.

At least Trevor seemed to think it was, he was laughing his little head off. The bear retracted its paw quickly, probably fearing another bite, and began to frantically punch at the building like it was Rocky Balboa, causing more and more destruction but never managing to catch Mark and little Trevor with its cataclysmic blows.

When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Mark was flung into the wall by the force of his descent, and smacked his head off the wall with a crack that seemed to make his bones shake. Even though they were only Lego bricks, stars danced in front of his eyes and the colour began to fade from the world.

He felt warmth spreading down his back and was able to dismally think that he was going to get destroyed by that bear while he lay here, unconscious and useless. Lil Trevor looked up at his new friend with curiosity, giggled, and then promptly tugged what was left of Mark’s dangling earlobe off and then discarded it.

Mark scream in agony and a fresh flow of blood began to run down his neck, but the colour came back to the world and he felt the pain anchoring him to consciousness. He looked down at Trevor and muttered through gritted teeth,
“You’re either a damn smart kid, or a sadist.”
Trevor laughed and babbled, and then they both seemed to remember at once that the building they were sitting in was caving in all around them and they should probably haul ass out of it.

Mark once again got to his feet and cradled Trev protectively in his arms, and headed for the door as each floor of the building collapsed downwards like it was folding in on itself. The bright light outside temporarily blinded him, and it felt like the ground was still quaking and shifting beneath his feet. His head, ear, and just about everything else throbbed with agony and he rain aimlessly through the haze of light and dust and hoped that he would manage to make it away from the building, and even further away from the bear.

He heard a roar, and there was no way of telling if it was Mr. Bumbles or just the building tumbling to the ground like a felled beast. The dust stung his eyes but he didn’t shield them, both of them were occupied keeping Trevor steady and keeping his eyes covered. Suddenly, he ran face first into a wall that felt solid as rock, but was also surprisingly furry. His nose busted and fresh warm blood ran down over his mouth.

He shielded Trevor from the impact with his arms and fell back on the ground, gasping and choking through blood and pain. The baby looked up at the towering monster and began to bawl. Mark felt like bawling too. Mr. Bumbles absent-mindedly scratched his leg where they had made impact and roared with glee, his giant black eyes curving like entrances to dark caves. Mark decided to give up. He was probably already dead anyway.

Mark didn’t look up; he just cradled Trevor tighter and rocked him gently,
“Ssh, it’s okay kid, I’m here, I won’t let him hurt you.”
Trevor cried louder and harder, his face going red like a beetroot. The bear took one step closer, wondering why his prey wasn’t trying to flee.
Mark turned Trevor around to face him and began to pull stupid faces. The blood didn’t scare the child; it probably just made the faces look even funnier. The child stopped mid cry and began to giggle and clap his hands.
“Silly! Silly face!” Trevor observed.
“Hey! You have a silly face!” He shouted in mock indignation, stretching Trevor’s cheeks out and letting them snap back into place. The child laughed even harder.

Mr. Bumbles stood with his head titled, looking absolutely bewildered. He shook his head, and roared once again, stamping his feet but going completely ignored. He raised one paw threateningly, and swiped it down, the sharp claws cutting through the air like knives, making faint whirring sounds. Mark looked into Trevor’s eyes then, and something in his head clicked. He remembered the crash, every detail about it.

He remembered Trevor’s bewildered face as they careened towards the back of the car. He remembered the screams and he remembered the pain, most of all he remembered, as if in slow motion, the teddy bear flying from the child’s hands as the car skidded right into their path. Mr. Bumbles’ claw came down, he closed his eyes tight and there was no pain, only a brilliant flash of white.

****

He opened his eyes again and saw the icy road stretch out in front of them. He saw Steve in the seat behind him, screaming about Bigfoot. His body still blazed with pain, and his head made a sticky sound as he lifted it off the headrest of the passenger seat. He screamed in surprise, and Steve screamed too.
“Christ on a bike, Mark! Don’t scare me like that, I’m driving!”
Mark looked at him blankly, Steve seemed to take in his nose, his ear, and his eyes darted to the bloody stain on the head rest.
“Christ on a bike! What the-“
“Shut up Steve, you’re high, pull over.” He commanded, feeling detached and weak. He was pretty sure he was dying.
“Christ on a-“
“Stop saying that, stop the damn car!”

Steve made no effort to stop; he just looked at the road again and rambled about Bigfoot a bit more. His eyes were glazed and unfocused and Mark knew that appealing to his common sense was no longer an option. Not that Steve had any common sense anyway. Mark saw a flashy sports car cutting through a red light and heading right down the road towards them, going dangerously fast. He could barely make out a massive patch of black ice between the two cars, and he didn’t need to have lived (or dreamed?) this before to see what was probably going to happen.

He grabbed the wheel and tried to wrench it to the side, Steve screamed and wrenched his hand away, then proceeded to pull out a tiny yet dangerously sharp flick knife.
“Get the fuck away you space monster, you’re not making me kill Bigfoot, me and him went to school together!” He was irate, foam bubbling from his mouth like sherbet, this was one seriously bad trip.
“Steve, it’s me!” He had to try one last time.
“You bastard, you stole Mark’s skin!” he held his knife closer, as if he meant to skin Mark and take it back. He was no longer paying any attention to the road. The car began to veer towards the middle of the road.

A horn blared, and they both looked to see a sports car bearing down on them, the man behind the wheel looking absolutely vivid and not scared in the slightest. Behind the man, in the back seat, Mark barely made out a small head covered with soft blonde hair. The reason for all of this suddenly became obvious. He turned to Steve and jumped on his knife. It sunk into his chest and found its way between two of his ribs, piercing one of his lungs. The pain was intense and his body blazed all over like his skin was made of shards of hot glass.

He grabbed the wheel and wrenched it to the left, feeling the car turn then skid on the ice, and it began to spin on the ice like a figure skater. Steve screamed and covered his eyes, Mark screamed in pain and wrenched the wheel further, feeling the knife dig deeper.

The man in the car finally expressed fear as the rear end of Steve’s rust bucket crumpled the front of his car like it was made of paper and crushed his wheel against him, snapping his ribs like twigs and turning his heart into a pincushion before caving his chest in as easily as the front of his car had done.

Steve’s car continued to skid across the ice, it’s rear end looking a lot less worse for wear and oil spilling all over the road. The sports car skidded to a halt, leaving the back end relatively untouched. The seat Trev’s father was in had relocated t the back seat, but Trev was sitting at the opposite side, hugging his favourite bear tight and closing his eyes even tighter. The other car moved off the ice and flipped over on its side, then turned over and over like it was performing an elaborate gymnastics routine, before coming to rest wrapped nicely around a lamp post.

By this point, Mark had passed away. If a coroner got to his body they would say it was a mix of blood loss, a fractured skull, and lung collapse, as well as obviously any injuries sustained when the car flipped through the air like it was made of nothing. They probably wouldn’t have noted the slight smile on his face.

As it stood however, they saw none of these things because the car promptly burst into flames, and Steve died howling in agony, twisted and trapped before anyone could reach him, inside the metal cage and coffin he had made with his own bare hands and dirty needles. It would be a lie to say Mark’s last thought was of redemption. It was of cheeseburgers. He was starving, it seemed like he hadn’t eaten in a life time.

A brave bystander ran to Trevor’s car and smashed the window with a covered elbow, before unbuckling the child from his booster seat through the window and lifting him quickly out of the destroyed car, along with Mr. Bumbles, both safe and sound. People would think that the child was in shock because it wasn’t crying, but this wasn’t the case.

Trevor was day dreaming, thinking about the land of toys, the scary giant bear, and the strange man who came from nowhere and saved him. The strange man who treated him better than his daddy ever did, and seemed to love him more than his daddy ever would.