GOODNIGHT AND GOODBYE
By Randy Romero
Robert Marsh was beyond
exhausted. He needed a hot shower, a cold drink, and a solid twelve hours of
sleep. But he still had enough time and energy to tuck his little angel into
bed that night.
“You brush your teeth?”
he asked as his daughter, Lily, crawled underneath the covers.
“Yes, daddy,” Lily
responded.
“And you did all your
homework when you got back from school today?”
“Mmhmm,” she said,
shaking her tiny head. With a little help from your mother, no doubt, Rob
thought. Emily was always on top of Lily and her schoolwork. Maybe a little too
on top of things. Most of the time, it was Emily who did the work or solved the
equations for her daughter. How is Lily going to learn anything like that? Rob
had pointed it out a dozen times. But Emily’s biggest fear was Lily failing or
falling behind.
He couldn’t fault Emily
though. He knew she only wanted the best for Lily. The best grades, the best
opportunities, the best career choices in the future. Still, Rob felt it was a
lot of pressure to put on a six-year-old. But Lily didn’t seem to mind. She was
incredibly sharp for her age, and she actually seemed to enjoy her schoolwork. And
Rob could rest assured that she had a bright future ahead of her.
“Did you say goodnight to
mommy?”
“Yes.”
“You need any money for
school?”
Lily didn’t offer a
verbal response. Just shook her head no.
“You want me to read you
a story? I think I have enough energy left for one bedtime story.”
“No thank you,” Lily
said, already looking sleepy. Rob envied her. He wished he could fall asleep
like he did when he was a kid. Just close your eyes and you’re out like a
light. No cares or worries. No fears or anxieties gnawing away at you, keeping
you awake all night.
As he tucked her in, Lily
leaned in and gave him a peck on the cheek.
“Goodbye, daddy,” she
said with nothing but love and innocence in her voice.
Rob Marsh chuckled.
“Thank you, sweet pea. But it’s proper to say goodnight, not goodbye.”
“Not tonight, daddy.
Tonight, it’s goodbye.”
Rob sighed, exasperated.
“Goodnight, sweet pea.” He turned off the light and quietly closed the door
behind him.
He was still wearing his
office attire. He loosened his burgundy tie and took a deep breath, made himself
a stiff drink. If there was one thing he needed after a long day at the office,
it was a strong, uncut beverage.
He sat quietly, sipped
his Scotch on the rocks, and thought about his daughter’s phrasing. Just an
innocuous mistake that any six-year-old could make. But there was something so
sincere, so genuine about her tone.
Goodbye, daddy.
However, it was her equally
strange follow-up that had really gotten under his skin.
Not tonight, daddy. Tonight,
it’s goodbye. It sounded almost menacing, sinister.
He finished his drink in
silent contemplation and deposited the glass in the kitchen sink, the melted
ice cubes clinking down the drain. Then he retired to his bedroom.
Emily was all rolled up
in the covers, her black sleep mask over her eyes, her ear plugs in. The eye
mask blocked out any unwanted light and the ear plugs were the only way she
could tolerate Rob’s snoring. She had once proposed sleeping in different
rooms, but in the end, she compromised with the ear plugs. She loved her
husband dearly and wanted to sleep next to him every night. But she didn’t want
to hear him sleeping. Rob couldn’t blame her. She had recorded his snores
once and he was shocked that those sounds were emanating from his own body.
He slipped into bed and
could tell she was already asleep. He was tempted to wake her, to ask her if
Lily had said or done anything strange while he was at work. But he didn’t want
to disturb her. He knew his wife wouldn’t appreciate it. And besides, if
anything out of the ordinary had occurred, Emily would have been sure to call
or text him. Best to let it be, he decided, and settled down to bed.
It was still pitch-black
outside when Rob woke up. It was even darker inside his bedroom without the red
glow of his alarm clock. He realized they must have lost power at some point
during the night, and he got up in a daze to check the analog clock in the
kitchen. He had an early meeting he couldn’t afford to miss.
His ears caught faint
whispers from the room next door. Lily was talking quietly, but to whom?
Emily was still sleeping,
and Rob and Lily were the only other people in the house. He crept out to the
hallway and saw his daughter’s door was slightly ajar. He inched around and
tried to peek inside to see who she was speaking to. That’s when he felt the
hand brush across his shoulder. He shivered at the touch. They had dry,
grizzled skin and wintery hands, cold to the touch.
He spun around and caught
a glimpse of the dark apparition. It reached out, one of its icy hands seizing
him. Ragged, uneven fingernails dug into the skin of his wrist, deep enough to
draw blood.
He gasped and stumbled
backwards, freeing himself from its grip. He grabbed his bloody wrist, wincing
in pain. The apparition drew closer, and he took a few more steps back. His
feet lost the ground beneath him as he edged past the landing of the switchback
staircase. He tumbled down the steps, crashing to the bottom at an awkward
angle, his neck snapping upon impact.
Lily stood at the top of the stairs and waved as the apparition loomed behind her. “Goodbye, daddy,” she whispered.
