The Forgotten Ones

So his doubt wasn’t as unfounded as he thought it was. There was something strange about this town and its endless cycle of misery. Arthur had believed so but he had never any real proof other than the nightmares he couldn’t escape or the ghosts of his failures haunting his waking moments. “Like a savior?” Arthur couldn’t help but scoff for a moment. He was a man who believed himself to be culturally Jewish and he was standing in the middle of a church. He was talking about a second coming and a savior with a nun. It was strange indeed. Yet Astrid called it politics rather than an interfaith discussion. “I came for clarity. Sounds more like a way to find clarity even if it takes me down the “eating chicken heads church revival” route. Much as I loathe to say it.” Clarity still couldn’t be found, he was certain. Far too much pain had turned him into an atheist. He wouldn’t dare show his face at the temple and he didn’t observe the holidays even out of obsessive comfort like he used to. Days ran together and nothing seemed remarkable. Everything felt like a terrible Monday that couldn’t be stopped. The doctor began to pull at his bowtie uncomfortably. “You’ve noticed it. This town is… There’s something here. It’s dark. It’s like reading Stephen King completely sober…” He paused. “You probably don’t read that. It’s horror novels about…well. It’s about Maine for the most part. But I can’t help but feel like Stephen King’s written all of this crap. I can’t help but feel like I’m in Salem’s Lot. Guy’s all the rage right now. I’ll drop you off his newest…” The doctor paused and pressed fingers against his forehead. What was the newest book, anyway? Was it Pet Sematary? Misery? Why did his head hurt? Was there a noise? “D-do you hear that…? That screeching…?”

Astrid supposed she had been talking about a savoir. It did sound silly now that she’d said it all out loud. What would a savior be able to do that they hadn’t already tried?

“I’m sorry Dr. Ein. I’m not sure I have much clarity. All I really know is that your doubts are well founded, and that hopefully we’ll all work to make a better world soon.” But they all had been working toward it. If only the mayor wasn’t so quick to strike new bills down. If only there was someone in power who cold institute real change.

Dr. Ein was right about her not reading Stephen King. Horror in Maine did sound a bit like their town. Maybe she should look into his books. She was about to say so, when Dr. Ein’s face went a bit pale.