Part of the game

“I'm tellin' you, I feel somethin's about to happen,” said the elderly man on the bench to the younger man beside him. They were waiting for a bus, and twice a minute the old man would say, “duh bus is comin'.” He got these feelings, you see.

The bus was due any moment. So, the old man would be proved right when it pulled up, but until then they would sit. Nephew would listen to his uncle's chatter.

“Uncle,” said the younger man. “Something is always about to happen. That's how the world turns. Now, stop going on like it's the end of the world again. I don't know what those doctors give you, but every time I bring you here, you're jumping out of your skin.”

Nearly noon, the rays of the sun shown down glinting off parked cars. The bus stop was in an odd place, being so close to the emergency entrance. Nephew figured they knew what they were doing when they built the place. Good thing he wasn't in charge of building this hospital. The bus stop would be well away from any emergency vehicles.

The bus came into view, but it stopped to the flashing lights. Police cars pulled out in front to block traffic. More flashing light came around and over the median. From the other direction fire trucks, ambulance, and unmarked cars started to fill the street.

“Damn, hehe,” Uncle giggling that old laugh that old timers do so well. “I tol' ya. Din't I? I tol' ya.”

“Wonder what's going on?” Nephew asked.

“Yourn mama had them feelins' too. Ain't cha feelin' it?”

“Yes, Uncle. I do.” Nephew did feel it. In fact, he knew the feeling very well. “Mamma done told you. Now, hush,” he said, starting to sound like his uncle. That was unsettling enough. He reached into his shirt and pulled out a charm. He recited a few words. Slowly, in his mind he could see trouble. Perhaps bodies on the ground? He was just about to get a clear picture.

“Damn, boy!” Uncle yelled in his nephew's ear. “You practicing that hoodoo?”

The image was blown. Nephew wheeled on his uncle and wanted nothing better than to throw fury at him, but the old coot was smiling, and it was hard to smack him down down when he smiled. Instead he settled for a less violent way and socked Uncle in the arm playfully, “what'd you go and do that for?”

Before the old man could smart off something equally rude as the time he farted loudly in the library, a calm chill wind blew in over them. Made them cold and tired and had the creeps all at once.

Nephew tried one of his mamma's spells. An incantation to ward off evil. He started it, but never finished. He'd forgotten the words about halfway through. His thoughts muffled when two demon or angel spirits talked in his head.

The first disembodied voice poked fun at him, “look my son. This one thinks he is casting spells.”

A younger disembodied voice laughed gleefully, “is that real magic, Mr. Shark?”

Mr. Shark replied, “maybe, but it looks like he's psychic and doesn't know it. Here is another lesson for you. Dig out his thoughts and tell me what you find. Is it really magic?”

The son was apprehensive, “but will it hurt?”

“No, it's only a game. Like a video game. You will be fine. No one important gets hurt in our games.”

That settled Son, and what happened next was more painful than anything Nephew had ever felt in his entire life. His memories were ripped out one by one. He had remembered a time when... and then it was gone.

After explaining each memory to Mr. Shark, Nephew could not remember which memories were missing. Son paid no attention to Nephew's screams. “Those aren't real screams. It's part of the game,” Son told Nephew. Nephew was very close to believing him, but each time the pain would rip him a new one.

Another voice intruded into his thoughts, “the pain is real, Tony. You're hurting a real person.”

The last thing Nephew remembered was a fight ensuing. He wasn't sure what kind of fight, but he knew he had lost.