DANTE’S FUGUE
Mel Waldman
They lived in an old country house in upstate New York, the perfect family of five. Dante was a young, blond detective standing six-feet-six, married to Maria, only five feet tall, long jet-black hair flowing down her small torso. They had two sons and one daughter ages 3, 5, and 8, named John, Michael, and Elizabeth. John and Michael had his azure eyes. Elizabeth had her mother’s dark brown eyes.
Every night he hid his guns in the attic, on the top shelf of the creaky closet, in the dark crevices. All his guns were there, including his throw-away. The children were never allowed in the attic. And if they entered surreptitiously, they were too small to reach the inaccessible weapons. The old country house was a safe place for Dante’s family.
But one day in June 2006, Dante vanished after leaving the police station, wearing his gun and his throw-away hidden on his body. It was the first Tuesday of the month. And it was Elizabeth’s birthday. But he never made it home.
After a few days passed, Maria filed a missing persons report.
A week later, in the middle of the night, he returned, reeking of liquor, and suffering from amnesia. The week that had passed was dead-a corpse of emptiness lying in a black coffin abandoned in a wasteland he could not find. He was dead too-for it seemed his soul had been sucked out of his being by evil spirits.
Before climbing the stairs, he made the sign of the cross. Then his mind went blank again, drifting off to a soulless wilderness.
He visited Maria first, followed by Elizabeth, and then the boys. The explosions were rapid and relentless-fierce, furious, and final, occurring in less than a minute as he rushed from room to room with absolute madness and intoxication.
Afterwards, he staggered down the stairs, drifted into the kitchen and drank Scotch. A lot of Scotch.
Lost in his wasteland of alcoholism, his depraved mind believed his daughter Elizabeth, still alive in his bleak desert, was the devil. Her birthday was on June 6, 2006. And although he never saw the 3-6’s on her body, he knew they were there. For one drunken night, he found them on Maria’s body-or so he thought. Maria was the devil! And she gave birth to Elizabeth, Michael, and John. So they were the devil too.
This alcoholic wasteland was Dante’s Inferno. And he was burning in Hell. His mind and body were on fire. There was no escape, until he pulled the trigger, eating his gun and releasing himself from the devil named SCOTCH and the horrific images of his beloved family.