Chapter 2

As the light snaked its way through our venetian blinds, I awoke to the second most beautiful face on this Earth. Tasha, my love, my life, my soul mate, was still comfortably asleep even with the invasion of the sunlight. Leaning in, I kissed on the tip of her nose, as was our custom, and tried to slither my way out from underneath the designer bedspread she had ordered specifically to match the paint of the room, a light blue with a hint of hint of white tracing the boundaries.

With the slowest of movements, I was able to escape the bed, even though I desperately wanted to stay in it just to have those few extra seconds with Tasha. Success was mine. Or was it, "Not so fast handsome. Get over here."

The jig was up, with her gorgeous caramel arms spread wide and her halter pajama top clinging for dear life, I reentered the bed that had made our lovely jellybean Arianna. The warmth enveloped me, not just physically but emotionally. Tasha's arms pulled me in tight as we quickly pecked each other with a kiss, morning breath and all, "I love you Sargent. Have a good appointment and do not hold back. Spill the beans. Secrets kept are burdens on the soul."

With a blow of a kiss, the sound of rumbling feet could be heard. Louder and louder, faster and faster, we were the target. No one could predict what is coming when the steps grow louder and faster. The four-panel white door burst open and there she was, Arianna Whitaker, the number one love of my life, "Daddy! Mommy! Peek-a-boo! I see you!" The giggle that expelled from her was intoxicating. Arianna and her little, tiny body had the excitement of a puppy when its owner came home from a hard day's work and the personality of a loving house tabby. It was the best of both worlds.

Arianna embraced my thigh with the strength of one hundred grown body builders, "Why aren't you in your police uniform daddy? Are you staying home today?" Her green eyes melted my heart, but I had to break hers.

I shook my head, "No my love, I have to go talk to my friend. I will be back to put on my uniform and eat lunch with you and then it's the big ceremony for Ms. Edith. Remember?" Her face crinkled up into the epitome of disappointment. Nothing would fix it but that's life. Shit happens and you deal with it, even when you are six years old.

With a wave and a wink, "Goodbye my ladies, Arianna, you're in charge. Don't let mommy get into any funny business, deal?" She giggled again and melted my anxiously beating heart for a second time. Off to see Doc McFarland. The good doctor had been practicing medicine in Newport well before I was conceived. My visit was not for anything physical, I take pride in the treatment of my body, only cheating on Fridays with a delicious double decker with cheese and bacon from Saul's Chicken and Burgers. His restaurant was a right side of the dirt road building.

The drive was just as monotonous as I had expected. The further I rolled into town the higher the excitement buzz gnawed at my insides. I am not a big fan of events that recognize an individual for doing the right thing. There was something off with Edith, I could sense it, I just could not pin it down with any of my ten digits. Everyone was waiting for this day though; the day Edith Wailings would be recognized for growing this town into what it is now. The atmosphere was equivalent to what I imagined the second coming of Christ himself would be like. Kinda silly if you ask me but Edith was well overdue for a thank you from all of us, whether everyone agreed or not, she had earned it.

"Well Doc, I've got something for you today. I need your guidance." Doc McFarland leaned back and readied his weapon of choice, a black Bic pen. Adjusting his black shaded glasses and sipping from his chipped yellow smiley face mug, the Doc was as ready as he thought he needed to be.

Closing my eyes and digging deep to remember all the details from the dream the night before, it was all I could do to get started but once I did, it flowed like a river running downhill, "The beast came to visit me again last night. Its eyes shone a blood red, laser red, burning into my weathered skin. My hands reached for my trusty black service weapon, a pristine Glock 19, just inches away on the piecemeal side dresser I ordered from Amazon covered with random shit I was too lazy to put where it belonged."

I could hear the Doc's pen ferociously dancing across his yellow legal pad in a feeble attempt to keep up with my mutterings.

With a deep breath, I continued, "The beast's fur shown with a merciless damnation as it pawed closer to my immovable body. With the strength of one thousand Greek Gods I released a heinous shriek, a cry for help that failed to ring out through my tattered bedroom. Hell, the Wal-Mart sheets that covered my terrified face did not even flutter. My fight or flight instincts had been twiddled down to a mere flight, one of which I could not accomplish. Tasha was asleep and unaware of what was happening the entire time."

More scribbles and sounds of acknowledgement. Hmm, ok, mmhmm.

Retelling this was giving me a case of the shivers, "A low rumble vibrated from the red eyed beast's throat, it's mouth sharp and pulled back, ready to devour every inch of shivering skin that encapsulated my beaten flesh and abused skeleton. Teeth gnashing together with a hunger that could only be curbed with the taste of my being, the beast continued towards me with the delicacy of an elite ballet dancer. Each step, each paw progression in my direction resulted in a thick, slimy swash of malicious saliva raining down in snaky streaks to the splintered hardwood floor I had walked hundreds of times before. I could see something in the distance, back in the dark corner where the beast had come from. It was my sweet Arianna, throat ripped from her neck. Her eyes were grey and lifeless but her mouth, that was the fucked-up part, her mouth was wide open as if she were screaming and just froze there. My sweet baby girl."

A more noticeable sound resonated from Doc McFarland, a sound of shock I suppose.

Fighting back tears at the revisualization of my daughter being torn to shreds when I'm the one that was supposed to protect her, I proceeded with the rest of the dream, "The hunger in its eyes, in its brain, was giving me hunger pains. My chest tightened like I had consumed a novelty rubber band ball in one bite and it excruciatingly rested in the center of my body, wedged between my rapid-fire heart and the two lungs I never subjected to Marlboro consumption. The beast's nails clicked with each terrifying step, an unsettling anxious click that bounced through my ears directly targeting my amygdalae triggering an overflowing amount of fear. My surroundings were trapped in a time warp of slow motion, the fan set to high was barely creating a hint of a breeze, the seconds on my clock ticked by at an hour's pace. Everything around me was seemingly paused as was I, everything except for the beast. Its movements were deliberately slow and calculated."

The flood of sadness had outlined my eyes. My attempt to speak was nothing more than a murmur of sorrow followed by a heavy dose of agonizing heartache. My faded boots scraped back and forth, a dance between uneasiness and anger. My own mind was fighting me, waging a war within itself. I am the next Sheriff and need to be able to hold my mustard, or so the saying goes.

Doc McFarland adjusted his glasses, making them more crooked on his button, pitted nose. I could not help but notice the forest flourishing from each flared nostril, it was rather impressive. Doc had more hair growing from his nose and pressed ears than he had populating his spit shined head. Contemplating my information, my trauma, "Well, there is definitely something here that we need to discover. We are going to have to push harder into this and see where the root is. For now, I am going to write you a prescription for trazodone to help you sleep, hopefully this will…"

At the sound of the word prescription, as the first syllable exited the doc's mouth, "No sir. No meds. I appreciate it. My goal is to understand why this is happening, not put a bandage on it." Standing with a groan and a significant pop from my left knee, I ended the meeting. Hand outstretched, the Doc rose to his feet (better than I did) and shook. Peering at me with his lopsided glasses clinging on for dear life, Doc seemed disappointed in a way. It was on his face, the way it rested and drooped with dissatisfaction.

My free hand wrapped over Doc McFarland's as we shook, "I'll be alright Doc, promise." Both of us knowing this was a terrible lie, I left before my bluff was called. Onward to patrol the town I was going to soon be the head lawman.