Tap Tap

By Virginia A Trahan

This story deals with one of the most thought about subjects and talked about events in the universe. That is the fear of the unknown. No one really understands what it is like to die. Even worse; what if something went wrong and you were not really dead, but everyone thought you were? What if you were pronounced deceased by the medical communit

• Language: English
• Publisher: CVTrahan Publishing
• Release date: Jul 1, 2021
• ISBN: 9781736947340

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Also by V. A. Trahan

Graveyard of Metal

Tap Tap

V. A. Trahan

CVTrahan Publishing

Tioga, TX USA

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

Copyright © 2021 by

V. A. Trahan

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

ISBN: 978-1-7369473-3-3

This book was published in the U.S.A. by CVTrahan Publishing

To my sons,

Marc Macione and Frank Mastrangelo

Finnegan's Wake

(Irish Ballad circa 1860)

Tim Finnegan lived in Walkin Street

A gentle Irishman, mighty odd

He'd a beautiful brogue so rich and sweet

And to rise in the world he carried a hod

You see he'd a sort of the tipp' lin' way

With the love of the liquor, poor Tim was born

And to help him on with his work each day

He'd a drop of the craythur every morn

One mornin' Tim was rather full

His head felt heavy, which made him shake

He fell from the ladder and he broke his skull

And they carried him home his corpse to wake

They rolled him up in a nice clean sheet

And laid him out upon the bed

With a gallon of whiskey at his feet

And a barrel of porter at his head

His friends assembled at the wake

And Mrs. Finnegan called for lunch

First they brought in tay and cake

Then pipes, tobacco and whiskey punch

Biddy O'Brien began to cry

"Such a nice clean corpse did you ever see?

Tim Mavourneen why did you die?"

Arrah hold your gob said Paddy McGee

Then Maggie O'Connor took up the job

O Biddy, says she you're wrong I'm sure

Biddy gave her a belt in the gob

And left her sprawling on the floor

Then the war did soon engage

It was woman to woman and man to man

Shillelagh law was all the rage

And a row and a ruction soon began

Then Mickey Maloney raised his head

When a bucket of whiskey flew at him

It missed and falling on the bed

The liquor scattered over Tim

Tim revives; see how he rises

Timothy rising from the bed

Said "Whirl your whiskey around like blazes

Thundering Jesus, do you think I'm dead?"

Dead End

Blackness... Pure night

Dead end so bright

Alone I'll stay... Plagued with fright

Don't go away... Where is the light?

Blank space... Stay strong

Human race... Missed its song.

Don't go... Bestow to live and grow

Born and die... High and low.

Be still, don't cry... Dark as night

Low down deep... Lost my sight.

Don't fret... Don't weep

This fight's for life... Less time to keep

No time for strife.

Now try to sleep.

My rhythms gone? How will I know?

Time feels so long... Where will I go?

I'll stay for now. My spirit's low

Some way, somehow... I'll take it slow.

Please leave a sign for me today

Grant one more breadth, so I can pray.

PROLOGUE

Every breadth... I try... To take is heavy. It's like my chest has been sat on by an elephant. I can breathe out only. I'll cry softly to myself. Exhale... Inhale... Now this is scary. I'm totally blind. I can't see or hear anything... Well maybe some things. Let me try. I'll put all myself, my strength, my everything into this feeling of un-living. Is that even a word? Am I fading away? Now I'm going to try to live. For what it's worth, I feel like I'm floating and scared.

Is this the end? My fingers won't move on command. I have no self strength on any part of my being anymore. My arm feels like it's just dangling in air, and I can't change that no matter how hard I try. I feel like I'm in a marathon, not to run, but to live.

Am I still sitting at my dining room table? I'm not totally sitting anymore. I believe I am flopped over or am I hanging off a chair. I keep trying, but I can't move. Will someone find me? I can't see my own finger. But I can feel it. I think. I can feel the nail is gone. Or is it? That's pain I feel. Wait... My foot has a bit of feeling. It's a charley horse. Wait... It's gone now. Come back cramp. Wait... I have consciousness. I must be alive.

Where am I? Am I still in my dining room? Did I eat my peanut butter sandwich? I'm not in pain at all. At least if I'm dying I guess I am just leaving. Where will I go? But I don't want to leave yet. Wait. This is really scary. I suddenly feel so out of control, and extremely out of sorts.

What if I just try harder? Maybe I should will myself and push my life back inside. I think it's trying to leave. So... Let me try. I don't want my life to end like this. Maybe I can squeeze just a bit of life back... Just a bit... Just enough.

Let me just review what I know right now... Mark was here, we kissed, we laughed, and we walked into the laundry room and talked.

He asked for a glass of water. I asked, 'Wouldn't you like coffee?'. What did he say? I think he said, 'No, water'. I walked into the kitchen and felt a bit dizzy. I sat down. I think he helped himself. He said I looked peaked and maybe I should have a glass of water myself. He was being kind. He brought me a glass of water and the newspaper.

We both sat at the kitchen table. I felt better. Or did I? He made me a peanut butter sandwich. Did I eat any of it? I wasn't dizzy anymore, or was I?

Sooo... Let me run through this one more time... After that, we both walked into the dining room. I brought my paper and sat and we chit chatted for a moment. But then I felt a bit light headed, again. I don't know for sure if I moved into the dining room or not. I believe I did. I think at that point I brought the sandwich with me. Or did Mark bring the sandwich? It doesn't matter, but I think I talked with confusion about a crossword puzzle word. What was a four letter word for dead? I think... I believed the answer was 'late'. Mark didn't know. I don't think Mark joined me in the dining room. I believe he was standing. I think he just stood there and looked at me with concern.

Mark said it would be better if he left and came back tomorrow, same time. Couldn't he tell something was wrong? There must have been signs. Didn't I look sick? But what did I say. I don't remember. What if there is no tomorrow. He left so quick... I think. Was he even here? I can't be sure of anything anymore.

So, then did I take a bite of my sandwich? There should be a lingering taste of peanut butter in my mouth. But it's not there. I think I drank my water. My mouth is so dry. Maybe I didn't. Wait... I wanted to drink my water... That's it, something was bothering me. I couldn't figure out how to get the glass up to my mouth... Maybe I just changed my mind?

Why did Mark leave? When did he leave? Was I so confused and maybe he didn't realize how serious my situation was?

There goes that charley horse again. My foot is still alive. I feel it. I'm not dead. I'm alive. Thank God. But I need to be taken to the hospital. They'll find out what's wrong with me there. I hate hospitals.

I can't feel my foot anymore now. I can't get a deep breath either. Why can't I inhale? Maybe I'm having a stroke. What in God's name is a stroke anyway? I think I read something about not having enough oxygen to the brain. Brain cells start to die without oxygen. So have some of my brain cells died? God, I hope not.

Maybe I'm dead and this is the way it feels to die. You don't really go unconscious; you just go into another dimension. And you don't have any jurisdiction of your being. Okay then no control, but I feel alive. I must be in that other dimension where I can't control myself anymore. I believe my brain is still percolating though. I don't think I want to float around aimlessly like a balloon. I don't think, but I can think. I can't talk.

But... Oh no... What about love? I won't have that warmth anymore either. Oh God. I've had a sharp tongue in the past. I don't know how to change that. What will happen now? I'm so sorry. I know, I know... I should have apologized to them. You know those that maybe I belittled or criticized in the past. I now will atone for any bad behavior if you give me one more chance.

This is getting too scary. This time I'm going to ask you to help me figure out what's going on. I know I have an oxygen deprived brain. That's not good. I need plenty of oxygen. Please give me... Just enough. I know some of my brain cells are functional. Give me a sign. Let me know if I'm gone. Anything, just a token maybe... Give me my sight back. Or let me scream something or just a small amount of sound...

My foot had feeling... Maybe give me back that charley horse. It hurt but pain can be a good thing. It will let me know I'm alive and not dead. If I can hear, I think that would be good.

Is that my dog? Do I hear you Finnegan? Are you crying? I feel you're close... Finnegan! You're here with me, aren't you boy? Am I right? Help your mommy. I can't see you. I can't talk. I sense you're here though. I love you... Wait... Is this a sign? Maybe it is. You're the best dog. I still have love. Do something to let me know I'm alive. Lick my face or bark... Just something. But don't leave. Please help me Finney. Come here boy. Wait... I can't feel or sense you're here... I'm alive aren't I? Is that all there is? That's okay then, that's just enough. Wait... What's happening?

April 13, 8:30 a.m.

It was a crisp, sunny, spring morning in Bucks County, Pennsylvania. Buds and blooms were on the trees and shrubs everywhere. The road workers were filling pot holes with pea gravel. This was a time for rebirth, a promise of a new day. The temperature was expected to be warming up for the next two days. New flowers were popping up in the fields, like wild day lilies and daffodils. Folks were ready to be out and about at the parks and walking on the sidewalks again, getting fresh air, after a long exceptionally cold winter.

Carol Rose was heading to the Christmas sale at the Peddler's Village in Bucks County. It was April thirteenth and nobody was thinking of Christmas in April. Or at least most people don't. Especially when the weather was particularly warm, but those clever bargain hunters do. That was why an early annual sale was always a big deal. It was advertized in the local County Messenger, in Krum, PA. The sale was to continue through June first, but by two p.m. April thirteenth all the great buys were usually gone, done, and kaput. Sure there would still be sale items, but not like the first five hours.

She was focusing on specific antique toys for her granddaughter Kellie. Carol used to bring Kellie when she was younger because they had a train set there that went from the first booth of the flea market display, through to the other end of the building. The display ended with a silly clown that gave out taffies and candy canes. The kids all loved it. Carol never liked the looks of the clown though. She thought he was hideous and wouldn't let Kellie sit on his lap. Instead Carol would buy a treat for Kellie in lieu of the candy the clown gave out.

Carol lived next door to the cemetery and across the street from Pat. She had a clear view of Pat's comings and goings. She'd been thinking of reconciling with her once best friend.

She noticed this morning there was a pile of building material on the side of Pat's driveway. She also remembered seeing Mark's white truck leave an hour ago. It had been there for no more than a half hour. She knew Mark was an expert carpenter and he was considered one of the finer craftsmen/handymen in town and wondered what construction, what changes, were going on at Pat's house.

She was anxious to find out the answer to the question; was Pat really having work done?

She noticed that Pat was slimmer than ever and her once sandy brown hair was now more of a ash blonde color. She had lost some weight and was looking very pretty in recent days, ever since she had been having all her carpentry work completed. She also seemed to be seeing quite a bit more of Mark on a more social setting. Carol's curiosity was getting the best of her.

Blink... Blink! A light bulb lit in Carol's brain and she said out loud as she was driving down her road, Pat you would love this sale.

As she turned her car around at the cemetery driveway to backtrack over to Pat Faros' house, she noticed all the buds on the trees. This should be a sign of new beginnings, she whispered. She was tired of having bad karma with her special 'across the street neighbor'. Even though they haven't spoken for almost a year now she was hoping that time had worn away the kink in their relationship. She was hoping this would put the brakes on their previous disagreements.

She said out loud, I always meant well Pat.

She found herself feeling strangely nervous for some reason as she parked her car on Pat's newly paved driveway. Carol scouted the walkway and carefully watched her step due to a recent injury to her left knee that had caused her to use a cane to get around easier. She paced herself slowly until she reached Pat's front door.

At first she found herself standing in a cowering position. I'm going to jump in with both feet, although one might be a bit sore, she said softly to herself. What am I going to say to her?

Pat's Antique blue door grabbed her attention, it had been freshly painted. She thought, How lovely. She knocked a bit timidly. No answer. She then used her car key to knock on the small peek-a-boo window on top of the door, hoping not to lose her balance. Pat didn't answer. She hadn't seen Pat leave today.

Hmmm...

Carol knew her comings and goings and she believed she should be home. Living across the street offered Carol great spying advantage.

Finnegan the