I punched into work the next morning. The wet, dirty, smell of old memories under the pavement reached my nose as I walked the parking lot. I heard the “chunk” sound of the punch card machine as I punched my card. I put the card back in my slot. I walked to the lockers to stow away my lunch.
“Hey Tom, I got your request. You’re good to take off early today.”
“Thanks, John.” I said in passing. John was my boss, my leading man on my route. The truck was already loaded with the light brown boxes awaiting their delivery, I hopped in. A large “thunk” hit the side of the parked truck. I turned quickly toward the sound on my side.
“Hey buddy, how are you?” Simon said. I didn’t know he was working today.
“Oh, I’m good. Just trying to,” I stumbled on my words, “just starting, man. You?”
“Oh, good. Just checking on you since you seemed a bit out of it the other day after fishing. You okay?”
“Yeah, yeah. I’m good.”
“John said you asked to take today off, just wondering if was from that.” Simon was being more curious than usual.
“Yeah, just I think I have a rash is all. Going to get it looked at.” I scratched the spot again. It was starting to glow with pain.
“Yeah? let me see.”
I rolled up my sleeve, and showed him my arm. I really hadn’t looked at it recently either, honestly. The skin was bright red, it had small pulses of liquid-filled blisters running down the length of the arm. My head was pounding at the site. My skin was screaming in pain at me. Just like the girl I had seen. Her face, her long strung, sticky hair running down her slimy, disintegrating face. The smell. I remember the smell.
“Hey!” Simon yelled. I jumped.
“What?”
“I said, that looks fucking nasty dude, good luck. You’re probably going to get a scar from that shit. You okay?”
“Yeah, yeah. Just…need to get it checked.” The warehouse door had already shut, my truck door was sealed. I started up the truck, said goodbye to Simon, and drove off.
After five hours of drop-offs. I checked in with my replacement driver so she could finish my route. I went to my truck and drove to the local urgent care center. The physician’s assistant walked into the room, and looked me in the eyes.
“You look like shit, man.” He said. His white-gray hair was curled to the side in a neat part. His long, but stubby nose stood out in front of his face. He looked tan. Obviously this PA got out of the office from time to time. He gave me a toothful smile with crinkled eyes to hide his real side behind his face.
“Well, I mean…” I said.
“Nah, don’t get me wrong. You’re fine, but you do look like you need some sleep. Are you sleeping okay?” He asked.
“Well, I just came to get my arm checked. It itches pretty crazy.
“Have you gone exploring in the woods lately, hiking?” He asked, narrowing his eyes on my arm. It was a darker color or red than before with blisters waiting to explode covered its surface.
“Yeah…I was fishing with buddies and..” Her scream. Her absolutely creamy-skin, hollow mouthed scream, it was deafening. The breath erupting from her mouth filled my nostrils with the death of dreams. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t move. It was as if she were yelling at me to help her. Help her get away from that hold on her. But I couldn’t, I couldn’t do it.
“Aaah!” I screamed as I sat up on the floor. The doctor and a woman were over my head, helping me sit up.
“Tom, when was the last time you ate something? When did you sleep last?” The doctor said.
“I uh…I’m having trouble with that right now.” I said. “Go home, get some rest. I’m going to prescribe you a gel for that arm, I suspect you found some poison ivy, and I’m also going to give you a sleeping aid. It won’t knock you out instantly, but will help you get solid sleep.” He said.