Behind the Shower Curtain: A Short Story Read online

  BEHIND THE SHOWER CURTAIN

  A Short Story by

  James Dark

  OTHER SHORT STORIES BY JAMES DARK

  Scream Studs

  Read This and Die

  Santa F*cks Up

  Mad Dog

  Nature’s Assassins

  Behind the Shower Curtain

  Rearview Mirror

  JAMES DARK COLLECTIONS

  Weird: Short Stories

  BEHIND THE SHOWER CURTAIN

  Published by James Dark

  Copyright © 2011 by James Dark

  All rights reserved.

  Ebook Edition, License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to your favorite ebookstore and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  BEHIND THE SHOWER CURTAIN

  “J-J-Just whatever you decide, God, please don’t blame Jacob.”

  OH, I WON’T.

  “I-I mean, it’s not his fault.”

  I KNOW THAT.

  “I guess it’s all my fault that this has happened. I really can’t believe this is how it has ended for me.”

  IT DEFINITELY RANKS WITH THE BEST OF THEM.

  “It was suppose to be funny, you know? A gag.”

  LOOK AT HIM.

  “Where?”

  LOOK DOWN BETWEEN YOUR FEET, YOU SHOULD HAVE A CLEAR SHOT OF WHAT’S HAPPENING BELOW AT THIS VERY MOMENT. NOW, DOES HE LOOK HAPPY?

  “No.”

  DO YOU LOOK HAPPY?

  “Yuck! No. All that blood....”

  SO WHAT WENT WRONG?

  “It didn’t turn out very funny.”

  OBVIOUSLY.

  “I didn’t know he was so terrified of the shower curtain.”

  YOU’RE NOT TELLING THE COMPLETE TRUTH.

  “Okay, so he was terrified of it, but I didn’t know it was to the point where he carried a baseball bat each night when he pissed—peed—um, sorry.”

  POTTIED.

  “When he pottied.”

  HE’S EIGHT YEARS OLD AND HE’S NOW KILLED HIS SISTER. DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH THERAPY IT’S GOING TO TAKE TO STRAIGHTEN HIM OUT?

  “...sorry.”

  OBVIOUSLY THAT IS MY PROBLEM NOW, AND NOT YOURS. YOU HAVE YOUR OWN CONCERNS. TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED.

  “Er, well, Jacob”

  GREAT NAME.

  “I agree. Er, Jacob and I, I guess, had a pretty average brother and sister relationship. We could hate each other one moment and the next moment beat-up a friend for saying something bad about the other. He’s two years younger than me, and, uh, sometimes I take advantage of that because I’m still bigger than he is. He’s not afraid of me anymore, though, and lately he was putting up a better fight! But do I need to say this? Don’t you already know all of this?”

  ALL OF IT.

  “Then why do I have to tell you what happened?”

  YOU ARE BORDERLINE, CYNTHIA. THAT IS ALL YOU NEED TO KNOW. I OBVIOUSLY DO THINGS THAT YOU CAN’T POSSIBLY UNDERSTAND.

  “But what if I just told you I know it was all my fault and that I’m really sorry for doing it?”

  THEN I WOULD SAY APOLOGY EXCEPTED, AND TO PLEASE CONTINUE.

  “Damn, I mean darn! Shoot. Okay, okay...let’s see...oh yeah. We play—used to play—gags on each other all the time. One of his favorites lately was to put a cup of water on top of a door and wait for we to open it. He never did the joke right and it used to fall on the wrong side of the door; but still, he had me to the point where I was walking around the house staring up as if I looking for the Second Coming. Sorry, bad choice of words. By the way, when is it coming?”

  DECEMBER 21ST, 2012.

  “Really? Wow. I thought no one was supposed to know that, not even your son.”

  AS OF RIGHT NOW YOU ARE NO ONE.

  “Oh. A technicality. Interesting.”

  CONTINUE!

  “Yes, Sir. Now, Jacob’s never told anyone just how much he’s afraid of the shower curtain, or, rather, what’s behind the shower curtain. It’s just that I happen to know. I used to wonder why every time Jacob went to the bathroom I’d hear the shower curtain scrape open—thrown open, actually. Then I caught-on finally that he was looking behind the curtain, making sure that nothing was going to jump out at him while he was going potty.

  “The first thought that entered my head was that this would be the perfect gag. I was going to scare the...marbles out of him.

  “Now, I knew that Jacob always got up and pottied in the middle of the night because I would have to clean the urine off seat off in the morning. He was probably so scared in the middle of the night that he just opened the flood gates in the vicinity of the toilet and then flew back to bed and under his covers.

  “And so last night—or was it just a couple hours ago?—I left my bed around eleven-thirty and crawled into the bathtub with a blanket, closing the shower curtain behind me.

  “Let me tell you about cold! My skin was so numb I was getting sick, I think. It was also impossible getting comfortable in that thing. Why my mother loves to lay for hours at a time in it I’ll never know. Anyway, I somehow managed to fall asleep, and was literally shocked awake when the light turned on suddenly.

  “From the back of the tub, I peeked through the curtain and saw him standing in the doorway. He was looking down the hall, not in the bathroom at all, probably making sure that nothing was going to come and get him from that direction. From my angle, all I could see was from his stomach and up. I decided then that I’d better get up and get ready to scare the bejesus out of him.

  “And then he looked at me. Well, not at me, but at the shower. And I saw the fear in his eyes. The poor guy was really spooked. I couldn’t believe it but I actually felt bad for him. Heck, even I couldn’t kick a man when he’s down, especially my own brother. I realized it would definitely not be funny to scare him in his condition, so I decided right then and there that I wasn’t going to do it. And that’s the honest truth.

  “And then I knew I was stuck. How was I going to not scare him? If I said or did anything, he’d hit the ceiling. I felt horrible knowing he was going to get scared and there was really no way to stop it. Even if I whispered his name and told him it was me—from the instant of the first whisper he’d be off to the races, as my grandpa used to say.

  “I got to my feet as quietly as I could, and I don’t think he heard me. I peeked out the back of the curtain again and saw the that he was studying the front of the shower curtain where the spout was. Something was going on with his right hip (I could only see his left side).

  “And when he began reaching for the curtain, I saw what he was doing; he was gripping a baseball bat.

  “And then....well, and then I got scared for myself. The way his eyes looked I knew he was going to swing away no matter who he found, and that who would just so happen to be me. That look in his eyes was a deep fear—the kind of look I imagine most people have just after they pull themselves out of a nightmare.

  “And so Jacob reached for the curtain and raised the bat to his shoulders—

  “And I shouted his name—

  “He yanked the curtain open—

  “And screamed like a monkey. That’s what I remember most. I don’t think he even recognized me. His eyes were glassy and huge. Heck, I barely recognized him. I guess that’s what happens when your worst nightmare comes true.

  “Th
e next instant the bat jumped off his shoulders—at me! I raised my hands to ward off the blow, and managed to block that first swing—but he smashed my fingers good. Real good, and it hurt like hell...heck! The worst pain in my life. But what scared the crap out of me—sorry, but I think that’s what really happened—was that I knew that the pain was going to get even worse—because he was going to swing again, automatically, reflexively, instictively....

  “Jacob was still screaming like a baboon. He had to have awakened the entire house, the whole neighborhood. It was the worst sound...a sound I would never forget.

  “And swing he did. Down the bat went again, and before it hit me, I screamed myself, and the last thought I remember having was that I sounded just like him.

  “Like a terrified baboon.”

  “And it was lights out. I really don’t remember much pain from that second swing. I felt myself floating (which gave me a weird feeling because I knew I was hurt real bad and had no business floating), and I saw myself lying in the tub...saw a steady stream of blood going down the drain straight from my head....

  “Then I saw a bright light before me, and here I am.”

  * * *

  “God?”

  I’M HERE.

  “What’s this?”

  A SORT OF DVD OF YOUR LIFE.

  “What do I do with it?”

  YOU COUNT EVERY TIME YOU’VE CURSED IN YOUR LIFE AND WRITE A PARAGRAPH DESCRIBING THE SCENE. THEN I WANT YOU TO WRITE ANOTHER SCENE DEPICTING THE PROPER WAY YOU SHOULD HAVE HANDLED IT—AND NO FAST FORWARDING.

  “So I made it!?”

  * * *

  “God?”

  BARELY.

  The End

  And be sure to check out:

  Nature’s Assassins

  Available now!

  Order on Kindle

  Order on Nook

  About James Dark

  James Dark lives in Alaska where he’s at work on his next thrilling story.

 

 

  James Dark, Behind the Shower Curtain: A Short Story

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