Chapter Four

Abigail Arcane Cable pushed open the door to her husband's room. Matt was sitting up in bed, looking directly at her as she walked in. He wore a faint smile. "Hi... Abby."

"Hello, Matt," she said as she looked into his tired eyes and felt completely nauseous. No guilt, she reminded herself once more. "You... look good." She placed her purse on the ground next to the door and walked over to his bed, stopping at a respectable distance.

Matt simply looked at her, smiling a half-smile which was only a glimmer of the broad smile she remembered. "I've seen myself, Abby. I look terrible."

"Yeah," Abby said, smiling, "you do. You really do." She sat down on the chair next to his bed, a familiar place for her this past year.

"I... had this dream, Abby," Matt said as he laid his head back and looked up at the ceiling. "I dreamed about my father." Abby remained quiet and listened to him, the two avoiding eye contact. "My father came home in my dream, and I was so happy to see him. Y'know, all the kids had teased me so much growing up without a father. I fought every single one of them until they were black and blue, though, because I knew my father had been a decorated soldier. A hero. And when my father finally came home it was like a hero from the story books I read as a kid was walking into our lives. He was bigger than life, he really was. But in my dream I remembered what happened after he came home.

"It was dark. I must have been seven or eight. And I woke up in the middle of the night. There was this awful sound, like the dog whining or something. So I got out of bed and walked downstairs. And there was the dog, whining and whimpering. He... he had tracked mud all over the floor. I thought to myself, 'Mom's gonna be really mad when she sees this.'

"But... but when I walked over to the dog, I realized that he wasn't moving. He was just lying there. I nudged him a couple of times, but he didn't wake up, he was just snoring. That's when I noticed that all the mud the dog had tracked through the kitchen wasn't brown, like you'd expect mud to be. It was red. And even though the dog was asleep I could still hear that whimpering sound.

"I went around the corner and saw... it was my father, sitting with his back to me on the steps leading to the basement. My father. He was crying. My father, the hero. The lieutenant. The three-time decorated war hero was sobbing like a little boy. Suddenly I felt hot tears going down my cheeks, not because I was sad, but because I was confused and terrified. What could possibly make my father cry? And then I saw something shiny move up and down in front of him. I was too scared to look at what it was then, but I caught a glimpse of this hideous creature with sharp teeth and red eyes. I ran.

"I could feel the thing running after me as I ran outside, and when I turned to take a peek behind me all I could see were these huge spidery legs like knives thrusting at me. I thought I was going to die. The thing that had made daddy cry was going to kill me. That was when my dream changed, and I was back in bed, just sweating and crying.

"I remember having that recurring dream was I was little. It scared the bejeezuz out of me back then. It was strange. My father went away again, and things were never the same. One time my mother brought us to see him in this big, white house. He didn't look the same as before. His hair was cut in this messy crewcut and he hadn't shaved. And he had these bandages around both of his wrists. He couldn't even look us in the eye. It was the last time my mother brought us to see him.

"A few years later, after I'd begun my military service, I was on leave to visit my mother back home, and I stopped into this bar for a pick-me-up. I took a seat right at the bar and looked over... and there was my father. I recognized him, plain as day, even though he looked so much older. He didn't look at me, and wouldn't have recognized me if he had, but just sat there downing drink after drink, staring into space, flinching repeatedly as if there was something coming at him. He didn't have any bandages any longer, but he looked awful. I... I remember feeling ashamed of him. Disappointed. He was so small. Not the hero who had come home from the war when I was a kid. And I walked right out of that bar and never looked back. Of course I never mentioned anything about it to my mother; I didn't want to see her cry again. But a few days afterwards when I got back to base I received this notice. My father was dead."

Tears were already streaming down Abby's face as she quietly listened.

"I remember holding that notice in my hands for a moment, and then just crumpling it up and tossing it away, as if I could toss away his memory as well. It's strange. I never really thought of him much after that. And my mother and I never spoke of him. Ever. I just went on with my life and my career. I'd be the hero my father couldn't be.

"But... things didn't work out the way I thought they would. And I-I think I understand my father now. Finally understand him." Matt looked at his wife. "I don't blame you, Abby, for seeing me as a disappointment. A failure. I finally understand what can drive a man to the brink. And I... I know about you and... and Alec." Abby was sobbing by now. "No, it's okay. It's all right. I remember the last few months of our marriage, and I can only feel regret at what I've done to you. To us. I don't blame you if you walk out that door and never look back. Not after everything you've been put through. You deserve to be... with the one you love."

Abby just continued to cry.