Spending Dinner

     The table furnished with a gold tapestry of covers. On top of those covers are glass souffle pans with green bean casserole filled to brim. The turkey sits as a golden baked beacon in the center of the set. A large bowl of mashed potatoes sits, with a large wooden spoon stuck in it, like a stake. Stuffing is flowing out the turkey, with gravy caressing the skin of the bird, running down it's sides with such grace. Candles sporadically placed upon the set, lit, and burning hot. The chairs around the table remain empty.

Kayla walked into the kitchen, with her cellphone hanging from her extended arm. “Kyle just called, he’s on his way. I could hear Marsha yelling about the sweet potatoes in the background.”

“Sweet potatoes? Holy shit, with marshmallows?”

“Don’t swear, hun. My mother is going to be here shortly, might as well curb your tongue now.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll be decent”

John walked into the dining room, setting down a tray of lightly singed dinner rolls onto the dinner table.

A feeling of acid wash spread beneath his feet. The burn was enough to make John’s muscles twitch uncontrollably. A look of intense discomfort flooded his face.

Kayla walked over to John, placing her hand on John’s back.

“Are you okay?” Kayla said, leaning in towards John.

“Yeah.” John said, shaking off the violent.

People sat, gathered around the dinner table. Kayla’s Mother, and Brother along with his wife. Her Father next to her, while John sat down in the chair next to Kayla. John’s folks told him before the holiday’s;

‘we’re not going to make it this time, John. I don’t think your father can take the drive anymore. He’s getting older you know?’

John snapped back to attention, Kyle had been snapping orders towards John, making motions at the mashed potatoes and back at his plate. John grabbed the bowl, apologizing promptly.

“Sorry, Kyle! I was spacing.” John said, taking a heap of the starch mashed into a paste, spreading a dollop onto Kyles plate.

“No sweat, man. So, how’s the new job!? I heard they were able to make you editor! That’s gotta be better than writing those crack pot stories, right?”

Marsha snapped at Kyle after he said crack pot. John gave a light hearted chuckle and nodded back at Kyle, putting the spoon back into the mashed potatoes.

“No, no, no. It’s alright Marsha. It is better though, by a long shot. I was done living in that bubble anyways.”

Kayla chimed in, “Whatever he is doing now, it’s better than what he had been doing. One tour was enough, for a whole life time.”

John nodded. He felt something strange wash over him again. He looked over at Kayla’s mother who was staring at her plate, moving food left and right from the center of the plate outwards. It was almost entrancing. John looked up her arms, then to her lips which were moving. He couldn’t hear anything though, it was as if she was trying to say something to him, but the sound just wasn’t coming.

“wha-” John started, but Kayla’s Mother started to move her lips faster, then light sound could be discerned.

“hit him a-”

“hit him again”

“hit him”

John fixated on her lips. He slowly moved his eyes up to hers. She was staring straight through him, like he was a transparent piece of glass standing between her and an unknown abyss.

“what!?” John said finally.

Kayla’s Mother was staring at John with an odd look on her face.

“What is it dear!?” She said, sounding genuinely concerned. John’s face just became abashed with confusion.

“Uh, I, uh… N- nothing.” John said, shaking his head.

Kayla looked over to John.

“Are you okay, honey?”

John nodded, “Yeah. Just tired.” He stated, pulling another piece of the turkey onto his place. He felt a sudden pang against his chest, then a burning sensation behind his eyes. He was wincing from the pain, staring onto the table. The Turkey was covered in maggots, crawling, inching across the dead bird, while the potatoes grew a thick coven of mold on top of them. The stuffing flashed, revealing what looked like flesh pulsating, a long intestinal culmination of sweet potatoes, and gravy slowly moved inching back and forth against the table, reaching out of the bowls with an almost sentience like sense.

John choked on his food, spitting it out onto the table. His brother in-law looked over in concern.

“you okay there, champ!?” he asked, with a milky yet bloody substance flowing from the corners of his mouth.

John felt a pang in his stomach shock him back again.

He was sitting comfortably in the chair at the dining room table.

“Uggghh” John muttered. Kayla was still looking at John with pure concern.

“Hun, do you need to lay down?” Kayla said, reaching over to John to check his forehead.

“No, no, I’m fine. I’m just tired.”

“…”

“It’s more than tired, John”

“Everything is shutting down, John.”

Both Kyle and Marsha said in unison, looking straight into John’s eyes. Their eyes were not breaking.

“Wha-?”

Kayla’s mother was staring across the table again like she was earlier.

“This journey is over. We wanted to grace you with something familiar before the fever dreams sat in. These things, they never go the way you think they are going to. If it was only two more inches to the left, the story would have been written differently. Alas, this is the story, the narrative we are given to tell. To know your family. To know love, loss, and heart break. We don’t know these things. We don’t know many things about what your kind knows about. We attempt to understand, but we never fully grasp. Understand. This is such a strange word. To understand something. That whole concept of word usage always fascinated us. When you say Understand, are you standing underneath something? Why would this be a significant symbol of congruent thinking!? It’s silly. But it is from you John, it is a part of you.”

John felt his feet going numb, confused.

“I don’t understa-”

“There it is again, so eager, a place for everything and everything in its place. I am afraid this is the end of the ride. We could only keep the toxins spreading for so long. It was vital that you had this last experience. All so vital that you break from the experience as well. In this moment, before your death, we picked you up. We hoisted your strength. We placed trust into your desires, and watched you experience these parting gifts. Even if the gift was stale at the end. You still earned your gift”

…

An operating table, a hand laid over the side. Blood dripped down, slowly pooling beneath his hand. Stomach organs bulging from a cut across his stomach. The men standing around the now dead corpse started removing their gloves. “We tried, we even tried the crash cart. He was just too far gone. The bullets had penetrated through his vital organs. He was going into severe toxic shock. You did what you could.” The assisting doctor said.

This thanksgiving, enjoy time with your loved ones. Tell those who you rarely get a chance to speak to, that you enjoyed their company. Spend time with one another, and learn to love one another.