A Father's Love

P.A NIghtmares

A Fathers Love

Watching, I saw Martha and Aaron walk into the run-down motel. The once white building, now tinged yellow from the age, is not complemented by the rust-covered metal railing. This railing is the only thing that separates its occupants from a nasty fall. This place is such a shit hole. Having to spend any amount of time in this place makes my skin crawl. I can only imagine what the inside looks like.

Hours passed by, and the couple had not exited the motel. “God damn it! Of course, these two would make my life fucking difficult.”

Sighing, I got up and out of the car. I grabbed my supplies and made my way to the mote,l if it could be called that. Stepping foot in the building, calling it that was being nice. The floor was sticky, the building emanated a stench something akin to semen, piss; and something I could only describe the way it smells when a cat took a shit, another cat ate it, then hacked up a hairball. Sitting at the counter was a greasy teenager with the stereotypical nerd glasses. I mean, this kid was a walking cliche pockmark and all. His voice even made you want to punch him in the face.

“Can I help you, sir? You don't seem like our ah… Typical clientele, “ The kid said in a nasally tone. God, I mean, if I could shoot hi,m I would, but this is not why I was here.

“I am looking for a couple that came in here a few hours ago.”

“Sir you know I can't give you that information.”

“Listen! I am being polite here. We both know what goes on here, and you can tell me what I want to know, or I can just call the cops. He is my son. I just want to make sure he and his wife are safe.” I put on my best; I am a concerned father act while slapping a fifty-dollar bill on the desk. “Please,” I begged.

“Look, mister! I could get fired if I tell you where they are, but I need to go into the back room. Please be gone when I get back.” He said as he pushed the logbook over to me with all of tonight's check-in.

Room 213... hmm should have guessed his lucky number. Leaving then, I made my way outside. The cool spring air was refreshing after the pungent odors my nostrils were just assaulted with. Heading for the metal staircase, “ Fuck, even the stairs are rusted.” I put my hand on the railing, and of course, it was sticky. I was just praying that it was not bodily fluids; yuck, please, god.

Getting up the stairs and to their room, it occurred to me that I had never grabbed the key. “Here is to hoping the door is unlocked,” I grimly thought to myself. Grabbing the door handle, “jackpot, it's unlocked.”

Opening the door once again, I was assaulted by a smell that would make most get sick and abandon their objective; however, I needed to do this! So, I slowly walked into the darkroom, and nothing could be heard at first. The longer I listened, the more I could hear the slow rhythmic breathing of two people that were fast asleep, probably sleeping off whatever poisoning they had injected into their veins.

Turning the light on, fully knowing it would not wake them up, “fuck, at this point, a herd of stampeding elephants would not wake them up,” I spoke to myself. Examining the room, “God, what a bunch of animals.. bottles and needles everywhere! It makes sense they have been here for weeks. It took me a while to find them. “Time to take you home, son,” I whispered into his ear as I brushed his hair out of his eyes.

Lifting him off the bed and taking him down to my vehicle, I put him in the back seat. Then I did the same with his wife; however, I was not quite so gentle with her. Leaning against the vehicle, I was breathing heavily. The cool night air felt good on my sweaty skin. I may still be in remarkable shape for a man my age, but even for me carrying two strung-out junkies that barely weigh a buck twenty each down a flight of stairs took a toll on me.

Getting into the vehicle, turning the radio on to my favorite station. A pastor was doing a sermon on the sons of the bible and how God made Abraham almost sacrifice his son on the altar as proof of his devotion. Then, moving on to the prodigal son and how the father’s love outweighed the wrong his son had done. How upon the son's return, he clothed him, held a feast for him, and welcomed him back with open arms.

The drive took a few hours. I drove on listening to the radio to keep me awake. The dangers of the road when you were sleep-deprived were many. None was more dangerous than the trance the passing lights could put you in; however, we were outside our destination before I knew it.

I pulled my vehicle as close as I could to reduce the effort I would need to move these two into the building. I went down the stairs and opened the basement door. Few people used this room, so not only would I have the privacy I needed, but it made it easy to get what I needed set up with no one seeing or asking unwanted questions.

Walking down the concrete stairs and opening up the old wooden door; it had not been opened in years. The hinges were squeaking loudly in the quiet of the night. Looking around; thankful there was no one at the church at this hour.

We had just recently moved our congregation here, so the basement was not fully furnished yet. We planned to pour the concrete for the floor this week, which was perfect, if I was honest—the strong earthy smell from the dirt floor. The vegetation growing on the wall was pleasant after the motel. In the middle of the room sat two metal poles with IV bags of morphine, as well as two chairs attached to each pole were a control for the iv pumps; however, they controlled the opposite pump.

Next, I got my son strapped to the first chair, gently placed the needle into his arm, and then did the same to my daughter-in-law. I strapped them down. I can't have them escaping, at least not until the lesson is over. I was walking back up the vehicle to retrieve my bag. There was not much time to do what I had to do, but it would be done regardless. All the prep work had already been done, after all.

I grabbed the smelling salts, first waking up my son and then my daughter-in-law. They woke up at first, but they had no idea what was going on! Quickly, my son’s mind started to clear! He began to recognize his unfamiliar surroundings, and he struggled against his bonds. Moments later, his wife began to do the same.

They started to scream for help. “Gaging them! That’s what I forgot. Oh well! Like I said earlier, no one was around to hear them,” I smugly thought to myself.

Stepping out of the shadows, I spoke their names “Martha! Aaron! Come on now! No need to act like a couple of heathens. Well more than you have already.” My voice was sharp, and they both stopped to listen.

“Da-da-dad is that you,” he whimpered pathetically.

“Yes, my son, it is me. I have come to bring you home and back into the loving embrace of God’s love” I stepped closer to him, placing my hand on his shoulder.

“What are you doing, dad? You can't do this! let us go, please, dad.” He begged me, and it broke my heart.

“When did my son become the pail excuse for a man? You used to be a strong shining example of a good Christian man. What would your mother think if she were still around? Would she be disappointed? But don’t worry, my son. God gives second chances, and so do I, but you must earn it.”

“You sick fuck! What are you planning on doing to us? How will we earn your so-called gods’ forgiveness?” She shouted at me from across the room.

I spun on my heels and approached her. “Well, you see, my dear, that's where the fun part comes in. I am tired of watching you two slowly killing yourself. See suicide is one of the unforgivable sins; however, murder with a repentant heart can be forgiven. So this is how the lesson works. I have a timer set to both of these machines; if the timer goes off, you both die; however, if one of you can make the ultimate sacrifice and press the button, killing the one you love, the other gets to walk out of here and change their life for the better.” Speaking the words calmly and slowly, so even she could understand. I stopped right in front of her.

“Your god does not exist! You pathetic excess for a father! What kind of man abducts his own family and asks them to kill each other.” After she was finished, a hacking noise could be heard, and she spits into my face. I slapped her in the face!

“Now, is that any way to speak and treat you father-in-law, my dear. After all, I am only trying to help you. Well, regardless, here we are. The only thing you can decide, my dear, is who lives. Because at the end of the night, one will live, and the other will die. Or is it truly to death do you part?”

Walking to the other end of the room. I began to dig a hole in the soil as they discussed what to do.

“Your father is insane, Aaron; convince him to let us go. He will listen to you,” she bagged.

“Father, please don’t do this. What would God think if you killed your son or daughter-in-law? Murder is a sin, but the murder of your family is an act against God himself. Let us go, and we will act like this never happened.”

“My son, my dear boy, a sin against God,'' you say. It was he who told me to do this. He told me to trust in him, and he brought you back into my life. There is no way out of this. Like, I said earlier, one lives, and one dies, or you both die, so he has spoken.” After he was finished, I went back to digging.

“I am sorry he has never listened to me. He's always thought of me as a disappointment. Even marrying you, he told me he would disown me if I went through with it. Why the hell do you think I have not spoken to him in the five years we have been married?”

“So you’re telling me once again you’re useless. You can't hold a job! You can’t get us the good stuff, and you can't even please me anymore? I have only stayed with you this long because I figured at least if you die, I could get life insurance money. I would be better without you.” Martha looked back over to the timer. It was getting very close to running out.

“I will not die for you. I love you, sure. But I love living more. I would say I am sorry, but it will be nice to be free from you at the end of the day.” She grabbed the switch and pressed the button. The machine came to life, and the sound of the medication being pumped through the IV could be heard; however, much to her horror, it was not her husband’s bag that started to empty itself, but hers. Struggling against the binds, but it was to no avail. Moments later, the morphine entered her system, and she faded quickly! Just like that, she was gone.

Walking over to my son, I spoke to him softly. “See my son, just like when God spared Abraham’s son on the mountain, he has spared you. Just like the prodigal son, you can now come back home and regain what is yours by birthright. Our God is a merciful God, as long as you come back with a repentant heart.” Cutting him free and removing his IV, I embarrassed him in a hug. “Welcome home, my son.”

“Dad, how the fuck did you know I would not press the button?” He shouted angrily at me.

“Son, I had faith in God. With just a little faith, you can move a mountain, and besides, if you had pressed the button, it would have just killed her. You were always meant to live. Sadly had she just had a little faith and let the clock run out, she would have lived! Oh well, she made her choice. Let’s get her into this hole, my son. It is time for you to start your new life.”

After we finished burying her body, I drove my son to a rehab facility. The police did come by, looking for Martha shortly afterward. It didn’t take much to lead them to believe she just skipped town, leaving her husband behind. She was a druggy, and everyone knows they do odd things after all.

But I like to visit the basement often to give thanks to her! For her sacrifice and for finally giving me my boy back.