Falling Into Place (17 page)

“Yes, dear,” Sidney mumbled as he dropped his briefcase next to the coat rack just inside the door.

“Where did all that blood come from?” Helen asked. “What happened to you? What foolishness have you gotten yourself into this time? Are you listening to me, Sidney Rosenthal? What
is
wrong with you?” She peppered him with questions, not giving him a chance to answer even one of them. It didn’t register with Sidney that none of her questions included, “Are you all right?”

He absentmindedly walked to the end of the narrow hallway, making a right into the kitchen before sitting at the table, taking his familiar red vinyl chair across from the refrigerator. It was where he’d eaten more meals than he could remember; a place that should garner an air of familiarity and safety, but it seemed completely alien to him now. He placed the book on the table and stared out the window located over the kitchen sink to the right of the Frigidaire.

“What in God’s name is wrong with you, Sidney?” Helen yelled as she entered the kitchen. “Why don’t you answer me?”

The disoriented man slowly gazed up at his wife, but she seemed a stranger to him too.
How did I get here?
he wondered to himself.

Both Sidney and Helen Rosenthal were native New Yorkers, growing up in Forest Hills and Kew Gardens, Queens, respectively. Without knowing it, they’d spent their early twenties working just three blocks apart in Midtown Manhattan. Sidney toiled at the accounting firm of Weinstein and Goldman while Helen climbed the management ladder at Parkhurst National Bank. They’d been introduced one Sunday afternoon in October 1999. Sidney desperately wanted to watch his beloved N.Y. Yankees in the playoffs, but instead was dragged to Bergdorf-Goodman by his mother, Florence. To this day, he still believed that “bumping into” Helen was meticulously planned by both women, though neither would ever admit it. The truth was that Sidney and Helen’s entire courtship was probably orchestrated by the two of them, right down to the moment he proposed one fall evening, after a sumptuous meal at Tavern on the Green and a walk in Central Park. Having grown up with his overbearing and somewhat tyrannical mother as his sole parent, Sidney never gave it a second thought.

In fact, he felt he’d hit the jackpot by marrying Helen. After all, she was something of a prize catch: beautiful, intelligent, driven, and capable. Since their wedding, Helen had maintained her looks, standing at five foot, five inches tall with toned legs and dark wavy hair she wore to her narrow shoulders. Helen was buxom for a thin, petite woman, and the flair of her hips and shapely bottom caused many a man’s pulse to quicken. Her deep green eyes, full lips, and sharp tongue kept everyone’s attention at dinner parties. It was painfully obvious to anyone who knew her that she took great pride knowing that, at 41 years old, she still caught the eyes of passing men each day on her way to work.

Helen had absolute surety that her beauty and sex appeal still shined brightly. For Sidney, that reality was hallow succor since she’d become even more domineering than the elder Mrs. Rosenthal had ever been. She knew what she wanted out of life and pursued it with the tenacity of a pit bull on amphetamines. Over the years, Sidney began to feel like nothing more than a cog in her machine, a means to her end.

Sidney was now 43 years old but wasn’t holding up as well as his wife. His face was haggard, his hair thinning and the paunch around his waist was more prominent all the time. Most days, he wore a hangdog look. Any zest for life he’d once had was slowly sucked out of him by his mother, his wife and the miserable excuse for an existence he sloughed his way through on a daily basis. He sometimes envied the heart attack that killed his father when Sidney was just a boy.

The only relief from the drudgery of his daily reality came in the form of books, movies and TV. Each night after taking care of Helen’s ever- growing litany of demands, Sidney would park himself in his recliner, grab a cold beer and lose himself in the various adventures of the fictional characters he adored and fervently wished he could be.

“Sidney!” bellowed Helen. “Are you even listening to me?”

That final ear-shattering shout broke Sidney from his reverie. He looked at his wife and smiled half-heartedly. “Yes, of course, honey. I’m just a little shook up is all.”

“No shit,” his wife replied. “What the hell happened to you? Your clothes, the way you’re ignoring me, not to mention you’re almost 40 minutes late for dinner!” Before Sidney could respond, she added, “If you think I’m going to warm up the Chinese food for you, you’re out of your mind. It’s not my fault you can’t get home in time to eat like a normal human being. Honestly, I don’t know what goes through that head of yours sometimes!”

“I’m sorry, dear,” Sidney said dejectedly. “I don’t mean to upset you. It’s just...you see...well, there was an incident on the bus. I – I – didn’t know –”

Helen sighed dramatically, went to the refrigerator, retrieved a bottle of spring water and slowly sat in the chair opposite her husband. She looked at him as if he was a puppy who’d just peed on her new shoes. She took a sip of water, then said sternly, “Out with it. What did you do
this
time?”

Sidney stared into the eyes of the women he’d vowed to spend the rest of his life with and saw nothing but contempt. He couldn’t help but wonder if she’d ever loved him, if she ever liked him even a little bit. All he wanted was some time to calm down, maybe drink a beer and gather his thoughts before explaining, but he knew better than to delay any longer. His wife was never patient with him and it was always better to get it over with. For an instant, he thought about making up a false story just to avoid her inevitable haranguing, but he knew from bitter experience that lying only made things worse. Helen somehow always knew when he wasn’t telling her the whole truth.

“Well, it all started out normal enough. The 5:15 bus was jam- packed, like it usually is on Monday, so much so that I couldn’t even get on,” Sidney began, as Helen rolled her eyes at his failings. She had urged him for years to be more aggressive during his daily commute. “Anyway, as luck would have it, there was another bus immediately after that one. It was pretty cool because me and the other six or seven people who couldn’t get on the 5:15 were the only ones on it. We had it all to ourselves. I even got to sit by the window in the back row all by myself.” Sidney grinned slightly at the memory of that simple victory.

“Is there a point coming anytime soon?” Helen said, her upper lip curling in disgust.

“Yes, dear,” Sidney responded, losing the grin. “So I’m sitting there reading my book, looking forward to getting home and having dinner with you. We were a couple of miles past the 59
^th
Street Bridge when all of a sudden there is this loud scream at the front of the bus. I look up and this guy is standing in the aisle and he’s shaking, well, convulsing really. I thought he was having some kind of seizure, but then – then...I – then...,” Sidney looked down at his stomach as his voice trailed off.

“Then
what?!”
Helen yelled, causing Sidney to jump. “Spit it out already! I don’t have all night!”

“He changed,” Sidney said dispassionately.

“Changed? What do you mean changed? Changed how?” Helen responded, still annoyed.

“He changed. He changed into something else...some kind of creature,” Sidney said in an even tone. Helen ran her fingers through her hair and made the face she always made when she thought he was lying to her. “I’m serious, Helen. This guy turned into something that looked like part crocodile, part man.”

“Are you drunk? Is that it?” Helen said, starting to get up.

“No!” Sidney shouted, startling her with his forcefulness. She reflexively sat back down. “Listen to me, honey. I know how it sounds, but it happened. It did. This guy changed right there in the bus, growing and, I don’t know...I guess morphing into something else.” Sidney put his hands flat on the table and breathed deeply, searching for the courage to continue.

After a few moments, he said in a low voice, “Afterwards, he was at least seven feet tall with scaly skin, big dark eyes, razor-sharp claws and a crocodile snout with large, sharp teeth like the creatures in those
Alien
movies. There was some kind of thick, yellow liquid dripping from its mouth, I don’t know what it was. Venom maybe? Everyone on the bus was freaking out, screaming and panicking, trying to get away, but the guy – he – he –” Sidney swallowed hard before continuing, “he killed them all, Helen. Tore them apart. He killed everyone...everyone but me.” His hands were shaking now, his lips trembling as he closed his eyes tightly, trying to erase the images from his mind.

Helen Rosenthal stared at her husband for a long time. She pursed her lips and furrowed her brow condescendingly. “What kind of a moron do you take me for, Sidney?” she screamed. “Of all the absurd, idiotic, harebrained stories you’ve ever told,
this
has to take the cake!”

“It’s true! It’s true, I tell you!” Sidney responded, his voice rising. “Turn on the news. I’m sure there’s something about it on there! For God’s sake, Helen, seven people died! Why would I lie about something like that?”

Helen stood up. “Okay, Sidney. I’ll play your little game. Let’s see if there’s anything on the news.” She strode purposefully into the living room, grabbed the remote and clicked on the 42-inch flat screen sitting atop the entertainment center. The voice of Channel 2 news anchor Ernie Aquilar could be heard as the screen came into focus.

“– bizarre happenings tonight in Queens where police say a wild animal climbed on board a city bus and attacked seven people. Chad Williams is on the scene. Chad?”

“Thank you, Ernie. Bizarre happenings indeed as details are still coming in at this hour. Seven people dead tonight as an unknown feral animal attacks them on a Q60 Queens-bound bus. At this time, authorities aren’t releasing the names of the victims or what type of animal caused the incident. They are, however, saying that whatever it was that climbed aboard this city bus and attacked these people was killed at the scene. Officers have assured me that there is no need for panic as the situation is well in hand here in Sunnyside. I will continue my investigation and have a full report on the 11 o’clock news this evening. Back to you, Ernie.”

“All of us here at Channel 2 Action News send our condolences out to the families of the victims. We’ll be right back with the latest Paragon sighting after these messages –” Helen clicked off the TV. She stood there motionless for a few moments before slowly turning back towards her husband.

“That proves nothing!” she said, eyes full of fury. “In fact, all it does prove is that there’s no way you could’ve been on that bus! This is an all-time low, Sidney! How could you use that tragedy to make yourself look good? What kind of a man are you? It’s despicable!”

“Make myself look good? How in the world am I doing that?” Sidney said, clearly frustrated.

“What, like you’re not trying to imply that you saved the day on that bus? That you’re the only survivor because, what, you somehow managed to kill that animal with your bare hands or better yet, with your briefcase?” Helen chided him, her voice rising in a mocking fashion.

“Absolutely not! I’m saying no such thing! I don’t know what happened, but I know I was scared shitless and I was sure I was going to die, too!” Sidney shouted, his voice cracking with emotion. He looked away from his wife’s damning gaze, his body shaking. He once again stared out the window, breathing deeply in an effort to calm himself. After a few moments, he said quietly, “I didn’t do a damn thing, Helen. I sat in that seat and watched all those people die. I didn’t do anything. I’m a coward, a useless coward, not a hero.” Tears filled his eyes and he turned his body away from his wife so she wouldn’t see.

“Then how did you manage to survive?” Helen asked, softer but still accusatory.

“I don’t know. Luck?” Sidney said, shrugging without turning around. “But I saw it all, Helen. Every bit of it. I had a ringside seat to that slaughter.” Sidney finally turned back towards his wife, picked up the bottle of spring water she’d left on the kitchen table and, with shaking hands, took a long drink. His hands were trembling so badly that water spilled down his cheeks. After wiping his mouth with his sleeve, he continued, “After he...changed, he attacked the woman sitting two rows from the front. That thing ripped her right arm completely off and started gnawing on it like it was an ear of corn. It was the most disgusting thing I’ve ever seen. Her screams were horrible, but they were almost drowned out by the sounds of that thing eating her arm.”

“The bus driver came at him with a baseball bat. I guess he used it for protection on his route or something. He swung it right into the side of the creature’s head, but it just broke like a toothpick.

Before the poor driver could move, the monster ripped out his throat. Oh god, the blood was everywhere.” Sidney’s eyes glazed over as he remembered every horrifying moment. “Three other passengers ran to the rear door and tried to pry it open, but the creature moved so fast. It attacked them, ripping their bodies apart. One of the passengers was thrown toward the back and I could see his entire torso had been ripped open...his intestines were flying behind him like the tail on a kite. The body landed right next to me in the back row with a sickening thud. His eyes were still open and I just stared at him, frozen in my seat. I might have been in shock, I – I really don’t know.”

Sidney took another swig of water and swallowed hard. “By the time I looked up again, the monster had already killed an elderly man who’d tried to run to the front of the bus. I could see his mutilated body lying across a row of seats. His eyes were still open and he looked terrified. The creature started walking toward me, but stopped when it noticed a young girl a few rows up who was trying to hide on the floor under the seats. He reached down and...and...and ripped her head completely off, sucking the blood out of the skull like a kid eating the cream from a Twinkie. She was so young...couldn’t have been more than 21.”