Hässlicher Geist der Nacht
(Hateful Spirit in the Night)
By BR Chitwood
Consuming Christmas Party libations beyond my good senses, a taxi took me home at 11:00 PM. Slightly inebriated and weary, I quickly undressed and went to bed. Sleep came before I could analyze any possible party behavioral glitches.
`Whether a ‘hateful ghost of night’ or not, Adolf Hitler was sitting on the edge of my bed as I turned to change positions, banging my hand on the headboard. As I bunched the bed covers around me on some obscure impulse, I could not turn my eyes away from the apparition on my bed.
Der deutsche Führer… (Okay, no more ‘showing off’ plus it takes time switching back and forth getting the translations.) The ruthless German leader, responsible for a war and executions of millions of good people in gas chambers, sat sullen staring at me fully dressed in his German uniform, knees crossed, his right hand holding a gun lazily on his lap, his eyes like daggers across the three feet of space between us.
The clock on the bedside table showed the time at 1:45 PM. I blinked a couple of times, and the German Bad-Ass was still there.
“Oh, now, I’m getting it. Which one of you apes at the office is it? Could it be you, Arnold? You have my only spare key – did your wife kick you out again?”
No reply, just the mean-looking eye movement and a sound similar to a weak whistling fart.
“Ah, C’mon, Arnold, I’m tired, man, still half-drunk, and the hangover will be brutal when I get up in the morning. Be gone, man, and sleep it off in the other bedroom. Arnold was a frequent visitor when he and his wife were spatting.”
He just sat there, same menacing pose, and, finally, he stood, the gun in his right hand, and loomed over me.
“Okay, I’m in a dream, and you are here to kill me for writing my Master’s Thesis about your mindless atrocities in the last century. I’m just curious, Adolf, libraries are filled with the history of your inhuman brutality and your unparalleled evil. Why, me? My ‘Masters paper’ was a simple thesis with echoes of your insane mass murders of the innocents.”
The shadowy figure took one step toward me, raised the gun, and pulled the trigger…
With my face soaked from the water pistol ammunition, Adolf-Arnold cocked his head to the right, put the toy gun in his pocket: “You forgot to take Mona’s Christmas present with you when you left the office Christmas party. Her flight arrives tomorrow, and I won’t be seeing you ‘til Christmas is over. Got to go, buddy, Brenda is waiting in the car.”
After a long adjustment period, I left the wet sheets, checked the entire house, put Mona’s present under the small tree, drank some warm milk, blow-dried the mattress, put clean dry sheets on the bed, and collapsed my naked body into a fresh and restful sleep. It took a while…
By BR Chitwood – December 2, 2020
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