Divided Minds
A Midnight Vault story
Welcome to Damsel’s Snuggery of Storytelling!
Normally you can find me reviewing books, movies and tv shows, but occasionally I share my own fiction.
Today’s story is a bit different from my family dinners, birds falling in love, and missing blood merchants, but I like to challenge myself. So here is my contribution to The Midnight Vault II, a Substack community event celebrating the weird, unexplained, and The Twilight Zone.
Don’t forget to like, comment, share and subscribe! And have fun perusing the other entries in the Vault:
Now come in and sit by the fire. It’s cold out there.
Divided Minds
Melody snuck away from Burt’s birthday party to check her messages.
“Burt’s the best!” someone cheered.
She stooped under a swaying crape myrtle branch, its melon pink petals dusting the ground all around her. Pausing to smell the sweet flowers, she read the messages.
DaveisnotLost: Guacamole isn’t that good. It’s a crafty way to eat greens.
I saw the sad duck again. Named him Carl. Guy needs a hot chick.
Melody grinned at the picture of Carl. The fowl was standing on one leg, a soggy crust of bread near his lowered bill.
The partiers whistled and clapped, but Melody focused on tapping out her reply.
4wingdings: guac is obvs what aliens eat, so i must be alien. and female ducks are hens.
Five seconds later Dave started typing.
DaveisnotLost: You could never be an alien.
Hens for Carl’s harem :)
Aren’t you at the party?
Melody nibbled her lip and glanced back at the crowd. The cake had arrived and she watched as the glowing dessert bobbed across the patio to where Burt was sitting, dressed in his plaid shirt and floppy fisherman’s hat. He’d retired, and next week he was heading for a cabin up north to fly fish and hike mountains. This was his dream, he’d told her.
She sighed wistfully and went back to the messages.
4wingdings: yeah. but they can spare me for a few minutes.
DaveisnotLost: Tell me what you see. Sights. Sounds. Sticky residue on the only good chair. I want to hear it all.
4wingdings: haven’t u been to plenty of parties? he’s retiring, it’s his birthday and there’s cake.
DaveisnotLost: Give me the details. And cake.
Melody shook her head and grinned. Dave often asked her to describe her surroundings, praising her writing as something that could bring the crowds. Tapping the phone against her thigh, she stared at the party-goers.
4wingdings: it’s a glowing cocoon against the trees. fireflies dance in the air. perhaps they wish burt a happy retirement, though their goodwill goes unheard.
the wind chimes tinkle in the breeze and in moments of silence, i hear the soft snick of the cat’s claws as it prowls along the pool’s edge.
the grass is firm and verdant. the staccato hiss of burt’s sprinklers will be a backdrop to my coffee maker’s gurgles.
everyone is delighted to be here. colleagues, friends, a few family members, even the garbagemen were invited. the red plastic cups don’t lessen the specialness of this day. burt has achieved things and all these people are here to support him.
the cake is being cut. chocolate on chocolate, the only flavor burt says is worth having.
Melody moved in closer and took a cake slice. She hastily sent a picture of it before taking a bite and slowly pulling the fork free, a thin smear of frosting still coating the tines as she chewed.
4wingdings: divine
DaveisnotLost: I’m telling you, you’d bring in a lot of readers.
4wingdings: u don’t know what ur talking about. but thanks.
DaveisnotLost: I have consulted the oracle. You have a great career in writing ahead of you.
4wingdings: and my lucky numbers are?
DaveisnotLost: Too numerous to count. My boss is calling. Have sweet, chocolate-y dreams.
“This is the kind of party I want to have someday,” an older lady’s voice broke through Melody’s thoughts and she tucked her phone in her back pocket.
“And I’m sure it’ll happen, Grace,” Melody replied, leaning in to give her neighbor a quick hug.
“You won’t notice when I’m gone,” Grace swatted Melody’ shoulder. “You’re too wrapped up in everything else.” She waved in the general direction of the world.
“Of course I’d notice.” Melody snuck in another hug despite Grace’s half-hearted protest.
Grace’s wrinkled face softened for a moment. “Well, you’d be the only one. My son can’t seem to come over and check my blasted phone. He keeps going on about the new coding program driving people crazy. He’s one of those tech people, you know.”
Melody laughed quietly and took another bite of cake. “Businesses are expanding all the time. I’m sure he’ll be over as soon as he can.”
“Humph,” Grace said with feeling, and Melody watched her totter toward the cake.
Would anyone care if they both vanished?
That thought bounced around her head and only diminished once Burt’s sprinklers clicked to life.
~ ~ ~
Meetings, phone calls, broken nails, coworkers popping their heads around doorframes for one last clarification…the work day trailed on in another mindless blur. Melody flicked off her light switch at 5pm on the dot and meandered down the white hallway, nodding once to the janitor as she scrolled through her messages.
She exited the building and a gust of warm air blasted her hair across her eyes. Summer had entered a steady decline, but fought all the way down with occasional blazing afternoons and balmy, humid nights.
She tossed her phone in her purse and rooted around for something to tie her hair, turning up a crumpled napkin and two tubes of lipstick before finding an old hairband.
“Too loose and too tight,” she muttered to herself, tossing the band into a nearby trashcan. She held her hair aloft with one hand and started down the sun-dappled street, desperately fanning herself.
Several people waited at the bus stop, each preoccupied with their personal electric world. Melody joined the waiting passengers, letting her hair fall as she leaned against the outside of the bus stop and reached for her phone.
DaveisnotLost: I was thinking about your writing last night. You should come in for an interview with my boss. Our company always needs fresh talent. Or so the brochure says :)
“Sounds like a scam,” a deep voice said from behind her.
Melody yelped and spun around.
A man, slightly taller than her, with dark swept-back hair, wearing khaki shorts and a loud Hawaiian shirt, watched her with a hint of amusement.
Melody narrowed her eyes. “Do you have a habit of sneaking up behind women?”
He made a show of looking around the gathered crowd. “How could I sneak here? Not like these people would notice though.”
Melody almost protested, but hadn’t she made the same observation moments ago? It was an even starker divide now: everyone but her and the mystery man had their head bowed over their phone. And earbuds in, if they were particularly detached.
She put her phone away and lifted her chin. “That doesn’t mean you can get away with startling me like that. It was rude. And an invasion of my privacy.”
The man held up his hands in surrender. “Won’t happen again.” He turned his attention to the graffitied board of fliers attached to the side of the bus stop.
The bus was still several minutes away. She wanted to return to her phone, but decided she could prove this man wrong. Not everyone was lost in their phones, oblivious to their surroundings except when the bus arrived. She ambled over to the fliers and took up position beside the man.
Half the fliers were covered by other fliers and most were painted over and ripped too much for easy reading. But from what she could see, it was the usual mix of life insurance, missing animals, “we buy homes,” suicide and gambling help lines, and an assortment of pharmaceuticals.
“Depressing, isn’t it?” the man sighed, his garish shirt billowing in the wind. “If they’re not taking your possessions, they’re trying to squeeze protection money out of you or drugging you into oblivion. So many are lost.”
“These people need help,” she tapped a suicide flier, all and but one of its phone number tabs taken. “Don’t you care?”
The man scoffed softly. “Care? I’ve witnessed too many cry out in suffering as they willingly feed the very things that are killing them.” He ran a hand through his hair and the frustration disappeared. “I care for those who want a different life. I can help them. I can’t help anyone else, though it hurts all over again when I see someone else fall down that dark path.” He pulled an obscured flier free, this one for a missing teenaged girl, and stowed it in his shorts’ pocket.
“Oh,” she murmured, unsure what else to say.
The bus rolled to a stop, its breaks squealing and puffs of air wafting littered scraps of paper into the air. The doors swung open and without a murmur, the crowd shuffled forward, swaying and weaving to let the previous passengers disembark.
Melody fiddled with her purse’s strap and wondered how she might leave without making it awkward.
The man noticed her hesitancy. He withdrew a pencil from his pocket and offered it to her. “Don’t let the big guys take you down. There’s always an exit.”
“I-I don’t need a pencil,” she replied. It was painted emerald and said “Divided Minds,” with a phone number.
“For your hair,” he pointed at the top of her head. “My sister used to put her hair in a bun and secure it with a pencil. Swore by it.”
“Oh. Thank you,” she wound her hair into a sloppy bun, took the pencil and shoved it through. The bun stayed in place and her mood lifted at feeling the warm breeze on her neck.
The man nodded. “Perfect. Well, have a good evening.” He gave her a two-fingered salute and disappeared down the street before she could say anything else.
Confused, but strangely enlivened, she took her seat on the bus as her phone pinged.
DaveisnotLost: Interviews are happening day after tomorrow. Can you confirm your interest?
4wingdings: how about lunch tomorrow? there’s a Hawaiian place downtown.
DaveisnotLost: Great. Then I can remind you of all the company’s perks.
4wingdings: i do like it when you sweet talk me about billing and corner offices.
DaveisnotLost: That’s the kind of permission I like to hear. See you tomorrow.
4wingdings: can’t wait :)
~ ~ ~
The first time Melody met Dave, she wasn’t impressed.
“He’s fine,” Melody told her friends when they interrogated her. “Just a corporate guy who likes beer and weekends. There’s nothing between us.”
And there hadn’t been, until they…clicked. Like gears perfectly aligned. They wanted the same things: good jobs, nice house, stability, and maybe a trip to the mountains. It seemed like every day, they were closer to taking that direction as one.
Her roommates cooed as she gave a performative twirl in the pink floral dress she’d picked for the lunch date.
“A winter wedding would be sooooo photogenic,” one roommate called to Melody as she dashed back into her room.
“Yeah yeah,” Melody grinned as she grabbed her purse.
Something caught her attention. On her desk, amidst the collection of creams, ointments and other neutral tubes of cosmetics, sat the emerald pencil. She picked it up, rolled it between her fingers, read the number again, then slipped it into her updo and hurried out the door.
~ ~ ~
Melody met Dave outside the restaurant. As she approached, she admired him in his gray slacks and navy button-down shirt. She was lucky to have found him.
“You look nice.” He kissed her on the cheek and pointed at the restaurant’s gaudy sign of leis and coconuts. “This is unusual. What made you think of it?”
Melody shrugged and smiled fleetingly. Telling Dave about the man yesterday didn’t seem important. “Thought I’d test drive some spontaneity. Never know where it might lead. You ready?” she jerked her thumb at the entrance and caught a whiff of roasted meat.
His arm snapped up for her to grab ahold. “Let us walk. I must speak.”
“Alright,” she ducked her head to hide her foolish grin as she slipped her hand around his forearm.
The two walked down the sidewalk and Melody kept an eye out for potential romantic corners. They were close to the public garden and she remembered its hidden arbors. Were the roses blooming?
“My boss promoted me this morning.”
Melody beamed up at Dave’s passive face and threw her arms around him. “Congratulations! You’ve worked so hard for this, I knew you’d get there.”
Dave was impassive. His arms stayed locked to his side.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” she raised a hand toward his cheek, but stopped.
He said, “My boss is interviewing you. Today.”
“Um, okay. You can take me after lunch.” She clasped her hands together, feeling almost ashamed.
“No. You are coming now,” Dave set his jaw and reached forward, a sudden anger clouding his face.
Melody scrambled backwards and bumped into a trashcan. She quickly circled it to place it between her and Dave. “W-what’s going on? Why are you acting like this?”
“Come with me, Melody,” he glared at her, hands like claws and eyes twitching. He looked like a different person.
“No. No!”
Fear crawled through her and she sprinted away, crashing through bushes to escape into the garden, and not stopping until she’d found a stone bench to hide behind.
Birds twittered and children laughed, nearby and yet a world removed. She felt cold. Her hands gripped her knees and spasms ricocheted along her limbs. Her lips trembled.
What had happened? Dave never acted that way. He was a kind man, unfazed by the most frustrating troubles. He even tolerated telemarketers.
Her phone pinged and she scrabbled for her purse.
DaveisLost: Sorry. I am stressed and I do not know what came over me. Can you come to the office?
4wingdings: i’m only seeing you in public. you scared me. i don’t understand what’s happening.
DaveisLost: I will explain. But I must see you.
4wingdings: the plaza fountain. ten minutes.
Melody leaned her forehead against the bench. Should she call someone? But who?
The pencil. She snatched it out of her hair and turned it to catch the number. Standing up, she edged out of her hiding place, dialing as she sat on the bench.
It rang three times.
“Divided Minds. Felix speaking.”
“Hello? Is this the guy from the bus stop yesterday?” she screwed her eyes shut.
“Flier girl?”
“Yes! It’s me,” her eyes flew open. “Are you anywhere near the Plaza Fountain? My boyfriend threatened me but I’m meeting him soon and I can’t call the police because what do I tell them? I’m really worried something has happened to Dave, but I don’t know what, and no one else is close and I had your pencil and I just thought that…that…” she almost wept at being able to share this burden.
“I’ll help,” his voice remained calm. “Do you have the pencil with you?”
“What?” she looked at the innocuous pencil still gripped in her hand. “Yeah.”
“I know this sounds strange. Just humor me and put the pencil on the ground. Not under any low branches,” he added.
“I…okay,” she frowned, but placed the pencil on the ground a foot in front of her. “It’s down.”
He hung up.
Melody huffed out a breath and replaced her phone. “So much for that.” She bowed her head.
The air before her swirled, fluttering her skirt. Something cracked—it sounded like a carrot being broken—and she felt a presence. Raising her head slowly, she gaped up at Felix. He still wore his ridiculously loud outfit.
“Let’s go to the fountain,” he stated, and hauled her upright.
Only a few phrases penetrated her mind as they strode to the fountain, things like “organic coding,” “subconscious alteration,” “rewiring the masses,” and “fractured minds.” Felix seemed to think Dave had become a stooge for some company and he was trying to recruit her. It was absurd. Impossible.
“When was the last time Dave did anything unique? Noticeable?” The two of them waited for the crosswalk symbol to change. “Has he ever wanted something different from you?”
“Of course he has,” Melody retorted. “He wants to…to…he doesn’t like guacamole and I do.” She folded her arms defiantly.
Felix repeatedly pressed the crosswalk button. “Hardly a case for the human soul. If I’m right, he’s been programmed to bring you into the fold so you can then influence others to join. And then they’ll influence others, and on and on until everyone has been rewired or driven into hiding. If I’m not right, you should still probably find a new boyfriend.”
The light changed.
“You talk like Dave is some robot,” she said, jogging to keep pace with Felix. “He’s not. He’s a good, kind man. He’ll explain everything and it’ll make sense, unlike your crazy ideas.”
A memory from the other night resurfaced: Grace complaining about her son, and the coding program driving people crazy. Could it be true? Had Dave been…altered?
“Don’t ever lose your optimism. But there’s a reason you called me. I’ve jumped the tracks and you noticed. You want that different life. You don’t want to consume the electronic feed.” Felix held up a hand to stop her and pointed. “Is that him?”
They’d arrived at the top of a wide stone staircase bordered by squat evergreen bushes. Opposite the terminus of the stairs rose a tiered fountain, its jaunty spray catching the afternoon sunlight. Beside the fountain stood Dave and three other men in black clothes and sunglasses.
Melody partially hid behind Felix.
“You go and get your answers. At the first sign of trouble, I’ll get us out,” Felix gently pushed her forward.
Melody grabbed fistfuls of her skirt as she gingerly descended.
It was fine. Dave was fine. Everything was fine.
A few people were scattered across the plaza, but would they react if she screamed?
Felix would. She heard his flip-flops behind her and she forced her hands to let go of the skirt as she came within speaking distance of Dave.
“Melody. I am glad you are here. We must talk.” Dave stared at her, through her.
“Who is your boss? What does he want with me?” Melody’s attention jumped between the four men but none of them seemed intent on moving. That was good. Right?
“He wants you to be happy. Safe. To have whatever you want and to bring your friends,” Dave’s smile, normally soft and easy, was now rigid and grotesque, as if fingers pulled his lips back without his consent.
Melody shuddered. Things were not fine. “I don’t want to come with you,” she said, and straightened her back. They’d taken Dave away from her. “I won’t.”
Dave’s face rippled. Then one eye closed halfway, like those dolls from her childhood.
“You will come with me,” Dave took a step forward. “It will be safe. We will be together.” An arm swung up and stopped at a ninety degree angle. His wrist rotated so the palm faced up. His fingers urged her to come closer. The eye remained half open.
Melody struggled to breathe. Dave’s fingers were the only part of him that moved.
An instant later, Dave’s face morphed into horror. The eyes rolled back and the head jerked to one side. His jaw fell open and sound burst forth. “Run. Run. Run. Run. Run.”
Melody screamed.
Felix pulled her back up the stairs, away from the nightmare. Dave’s monotone voice still rung in the quiet air.
Something cracked. Then only four humanoids, a plaza of oblivious people, and a single emerald pencil remained.
Want to read more of my fiction? Go here. Looking for some book reviews, or movie reviews? How about a list of authors I’ve given up on?
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Oh, Dave. Too bad! A good man is hard to find.
Aaaaa this is too cool for a short story hahaha I’d read a whole novel about this premise 😍😍