Muddled Eyes

“I don’t know why they decided to do this open casket.” Jack thought to himself as he stared down at Erica’s pale and gaunt body. Jack hadn’t seen his sister for several months. He had taken a construction job and was too tired at the end of each day to call or visit her. He turned to his father, who stood on Jack’s right with tears in his eyes.

Jack hesitated, but eventually asked “How did this happen?”

His father’s tears began to stream down his face. “I already told you son.” Jack suddenly remembered the conversation they’d had while planning Erica’s funeral.

Erica had traveled to Senegal with a Christian nonprofit. Her intent was to help people get access to food and education, but after only three days she had caught tuberculosis. Her father had flown her back to the United States in the hopes she would get better medical treatment, but it didn’t seem to help as her condition only got worse, and four months after landing in the United States, she passed quietly in her sleep.

Jack racked his brain to understand how his sister had died, but somehow, this moment in which he stood over Erica’s casket, simply didn’t feel real. He returned to his seat, and began to cry quietly as they closed the casket. He could hear the pastor’s remarks, but they grew quieter, the more he cried. When he opened his eyes he was no longer at the funeral.

Jack stared at the bedroom ceiling. “That’s right” he thought to himself. Erica’s funeral had been several months ago. It had been a dream. He wiped the tears from his eyes, sat up and placed his feet on the hard wood floor. Jack had no bed frame, so the box spring and mattress sat directly on the floor.

A knock came from the closed bedroom door. Jack stared at the door for a moment, baffled. He thought that he was home alone. He stood up and carefully approached the door.

When he opened the door, standing on the other side with her hands on her hips was Erica.

“Come on out, I made pancakes, and you need to eat.” Erica said before walking into the kitchen.

“Am I dreaming?” Jack silently thought to himself. He felt as if he had stood over Erica’s corpse a mere moment ago, but here she was.

Jack slowly meandered into the kitchen as Erica turned around and handed him a plate of pancakes with strawberry preserves on top. Jack quietly sat down and took a bite. They were real pancakes, and they were delicious.

After two more large bites Jack looked up at Erica. “Are you a ghost?” he asked her.

“Very funny mister.” She quipped, “Now eat your breakfast.” And so Jack did.

Erica left after a few minutes to go to her job as an accountant. She returned late in the afternoon. Jack had stayed in his room all day.

Erica made a simple spaghetti and meatballs with a pre-made jar of sauce, a store-bought box of spaghetti, and frozen meatballs. She knocked on Jack’s door.

Jack came out, ate dinner, returned to his room, and then fell asleep.

“I don’t know why they decided to do this open casket.” Jack thought to himself. Erica’s face was deformed, and it was difficult to look at. He turned to his right and saw his father crying silently over Erica’s body. Jack began to cry too.

Jack hesitated, but eventually asked “How did this happen?”

His father’s tears began to stream down his face. “I already told you son.” Jack suddenly remembered the conversation they’d had while planning Erica’s funeral.

Erica had traveled to Sierra Leone with a Christian nonprofit. Her intent was to help people get access to food and education, but after only three days she had caught measles. Her father had flown her back to the United States to get better medical care, but it took over a month and by the time she arrived, the measles had consumed a large portion of her body. She had passed away in her sleep three days after arriving at an American hospital.

Jacks tears felt overwhelming as he rushed back to his seat. He sat and stared at his knees. His jacket was two sizes too big, and he felt helplessly small in that moment. He closed his eyes as he heard the pastor deliver his remarks. The pastor grew quieter as Jack eventually opened his eyes once more.

Jack was back in his bedroom, lying in his bed and staring at the ceiling. “That’s right” he thought to himself. Erica’s funeral had been several months ago. It had been a dream. He wiped the tears from his eyes, sat up and placed his feet on the hard wood floor.

A knock came from the bedroom door.

Jack stood up and walked to the door, but he hesitated before opening it. He remembered the pancakes. “Is this Erica’s ghost?” he thought to himself. He opened the door.

“Come on out, I made pancakes, and you need to eat.” Erica said before walking into the kitchen.

Jack slowly meandered into the kitchen as Erica turned around and handed him a plate of pancakes with blueberry preserves on top. Jack quietly sat down and took a bite. They were real pancakes, and they were delicious.

After two more large bites Jack looked up at Erica. “Are you a ghost?” he asked her.

“What’s with this ghost stuff from you all of a sudden?” She asked. “You know we’re nowhere close to Halloween right now right?” Erica seemed healthy.

Erica left after a few minutes to go to her job as an accountant. She returned late in the afternoon. Jack had stayed in his room all day, wondering if he was being haunted. Erica made lasagna with pre-made sauce, noodles from a box, and pre-shredded cheese and after eating dinner he returned to his room and went to sleep

“I don’t know why they decided to do this open casket.” Jack thought to himself. Erica somehow looked like herself, if not slightly yellow somehow. He turned to his right and saw his father staring at Erica’s body. His eyes were red, as though he’d been crying. They both looked at her quietly. It was as if Jack couldn’t feel anything.

Jack hesitated, but eventually asked “How did this happen?”

His father’s tears began to stream down his face. “I already told you son.” Jack suddenly remembered the conversation they’d had while planning Erica’s funeral.

Erica had traveled to Morocco with a Christian non-profit. Her intent was to help people get access to food and education, but after only four days she had caught malaria. Her father had her flown back to the United States as soon as he’d heard so that she could get better medical care, but she died while the plane was enroute.

Jack felt a shiver run down his spine. He returned to his seat and felt hot tears begin to well in his eyes as he stared at his knees. He closed his eyes in a vain attempt to make the tears go away but it only caused them to stream down his face. He heard the pastor delivering his sermon but the pastors voice slowly grew quieter, until the pastor couldn’t be heard at all. Jack had struggled to breath in and out without hiccuping gasps, but he suddenly felt calm. The rhythm of his inhales and exhales steadied, and he opened his eyes.

Jack was back in his room. He was relaxed and felt a clarity he hadn’t felt for days. There had been no funeral. Erica never left the country, never caught any disease, and never died. Jack breathed a sigh of relief and almost laughed louder than he ever had before. It had all been a dream. A terrible, long, horrific dream.

Jack was about to get up, looking forward to pancakes with fruit preserves on top like he’d had for breakfast before.

There was no knock at Derek’s door that morning.