Heather saw what she was looking for and her violent heart stopped beating altogether. The gun was laying beside the telephone on the nightstand by his bed.
She ran past him, planning to pick it up and hide it. She visualized smashing the evil weapon to pieces or setting it afl ame until it no longer existed but she couldn’t even lift it. Like a clumsy ghost trying unsuccessfully to haunt a family, she discovered she had no power over the gun or over anything else in the room.
Heather looked at Benny and tears fi lled her eyes. She reached her hand out toward him, wanting desperately to feel the heat of his skin as it penetrated through his sleeve but felt nothing but pain exploding inside. She dropped her head into her hands but looked up again quickly when she heard a long snorting sound.
Benny was leaning over the coke with a carelessly cut straw held to his nose. He snorted two lines and held his head back to sniff it all in. He put his hand to his nose to assist the process and picked up a glass of wine that she hadn’t noticed on the corner of the dresser.
Benny walked to his bed and sat on the edge. He lifted the cell phone from its position beside the gun. As he dialed, Heather said a prayer. God must not have heard 349
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her because her cell phone started to ring and when she looked at the caller ID, she saw Benny’s name displayed.
“Oh, no,” she said. Her heart widened in anticipation of more guilt.
She tried to answer the phone but it wouldn’t work.
“No, no, no,” she said desperately as she pressed repeatedly on her talk button. Finally, the ringing stopped and she saw Benny’s head fall a little as he listened to the familiar sound of her voicemail.
“Hey Heather, what’s up?” he said into the phone.
She had only heard the words in the past and had never known what he was doing at the time. He left her the message that she had listened to so many times. She had never experienced the call from this side before and she decided that it was even worse, much worse. Heather mouthed the words as he spoke them.
“You haven’t called me back,” he continued. “I thought maybe you could come over tonight and we could grill some food and hang out. I miss you, girl, give me a call.”
Benny hung up and shook his head. Heather heard a small noise escape him and she realized he was crying.
The grief started to grab hold of her and she tried to fi ght it. She couldn’t let herself get carried away by depression before she even got the chance to discover which lesson she was there to learn.
She had felt such guilt after Benny’s suicide and now she tried to reconcile what she had always known. The truth had gotten lost amid her sadness. Now it swam at 350
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the edges of her awareness but Heather couldn’t quite touch the answer. She looked around again.
She wanted to search the room until she saw something that made sense and knew she didn’t have much time. Benny had already picked up the telephone.
Heather whipped her attention over to the clock that she knew sat on his table. It read 11:09 and she wasn’t any closer to the answer than she had been when she walked in. Two more minutes would be too late.
She went to his bed and noticed something on the comforter and picked it up. A picture of her, Benny and Angie stared back at her, reminding her how close they had all been once. She glanced over at Benny and watched as he placed his hand on the gun. The cell phone was already up to his left ear and he was starting to position the weapon at his right temple.
She felt the tears as they soaked her face. Heather looked at the clock, and saw that it had clicked another minute away. It read 11:10, only a minute before the Grim Reaper of self-loathing showed up.
Heather had professed her friendship to Benny. She had told him she would always be there for him but she hadn’t been. Benny thought he was all alone and he couldn’t talk to his friends because they didn’t always respond. The guys told him to get over it and the girls coddled him until they burned out and felt the need to start avoiding him.
Benny wanted to talk about his pending divorce and his fear of losing his mind, topics too heavy at times for 351
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her to delve into. He wanted to wonder aloud if a future would ever be possible without his family and Heather had told him it was. Then when the time came and he reached out to her for help, she had ignored him.
It hadn’t been because she was terribly busy as she had told everyone else. It wasn’t because she wanted to spare him the tedious details of her chaotic life as she had told herself. It was because she had been greedy. Heather offered herself to others and then withheld herself once they were hooked. She was like a drug dealer, giving away free samples of her time and her love before charging ridiculous prices. She did it to everyone she knew.
Heather had been so busy patting herself on the back for having never fallen prey to the monetary world that she hadn’t seen the bigger picture. Greed wasn’t always about money or possessions. Withholding her attention from those she loved had been the ultimate greed. It was her own, personalized form of selfi sh withholding and it hurt people worse – much worse. It caused resentment in her relationships and eventually led her down a road that ended in her friend’s suicide.
Heather allowed others to tell her that Benny would have done killed himself anyway but she’d never really been convinced. She knew it may have just been a passing moment and that her response, or anyone’s for that matter, could have changed everything.
Heather heard Benny’s voice and looked up with only her eyes. They darted back to the clock and she both saw and heard another minute click away. It was 11:11 and 352
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she tried to numb out her senses before the shot rang out.
Unable to dampen even one sensation, Heather had no choice but to watch and listen.
“Angie,” he whispered in a strained voice.
She pictured her petite friend on the other end, rolling her eyes at the pathetic call just the way she had. Heather thought about how badly Angie would want to rewind time and redo the phone call. Benny’s fi nger started to wiggle on the trigger.
“I love you and I’m sorry.” Heather listened to her friend’s last words and she tried to hold onto his voice.
Benny sucked in a deep breath and Heather knew it was the sound Angie would later try to describe to her. She watched as his pointer fi nger pulled back on the trigger and her eyes snapped shut at the sound of the gunshot.
It was short and loud and Benny’s lifeless body slumped to the fl oor. Heather stared down at her dead friend and stopped the tears in the middle of their trek. She replaced them with a scream.
Heather kneeled by her friend’s body and dropped her head to his chest. She heard a rattle where his heart was and imagined it was the sound of its fi nal break. A teardrop landed on her bottom lip and she didn’t wipe it away. Benny deserved her tears and she wouldn’t begrudge him that. She’d already taken enough from him by not answering his call. She knew she couldn’t have changed his ultimate decision to die but she also knew that answering the telephone would have created a different 353
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path for her. The one she had traversed was paved with a sense of guilt that had made healthy grieving impossible.
Heather pulled his hands into her own and realized she could still feel his warmth.
“I’m sorry, Benny,” she cried, kissing the back of his bloody hand. “I should have been there. So many times, so many people,” she stopped.
She cut herself off because the truth was overwhelming.
“I should have been there and I wasn’t and I’m sorry.”
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Chapter 29
Sex and Candy
Heather walked up to the new door and was suddenly struck with paralysis. She didn’t want to go in; she had had enough already. She wondered what would happe
n if she ran across to the other side and shuddered at the image of falling into a never-ending hole along the way.
Heather diverted herself with other thoughts as she took one step into the room. She thought about her death in the real world and wondered how the medical examiner’s offi ce would write it up. She knew it wouldn’t be a massive coronary as suggested by the dream team.
She had intentionally swallowed a lethal amount of medication and would be written up as an overdose. She didn’t want to leave the world like that.
She imagined what was happening to Jade as she gave birth beside her dying sister. Squeezing tears back into the ducts from which they escaped, Heather told herself she could cry later and then a cold realization made her nerves jump and her body shake. There probably wouldn’t be a later – not for her anyway.
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Heather took another step inside and realized she had actually walked back into the hallway with the long red carpet. She had met each of the four doors on one side and now had to brave the last three on the other side. Heather walked up to the fi rst of the three remaining doors and opened it without hesitation. She just wanted to get it over with and then crawl into her own comfy grave for a very long nap.
As she walked through, Heather realized she was outdoors. The weather was perfect. She was refreshed by a cool wind and tiny sprinkles of rain that gently pelted off of her skin. Ever since her father sat her on the front porch as a child to watch a bad storm, she’d loved the feeling of the wild breeze and the sound of angry thunder.
Heather was inexplicably drawn further outside. She feared the lesson that awaited her but allowed an unseen, seductive force to pull her in. The temptation that grew inside her was stronger than her sense of control and she couldn’t resist venturing in deeper. She started to whistle and then thought it sounded funny when it seemed to get entangled and then lost in the wind.
A huge fi g tree towered over everything in this new room outside. Heather walked slowly around the massive trunk in a steady circle. She pulled a loose piece of bark off the tree and delighted in the fresh, moist lump of dirt left in its wake in the middle of her palm. It was nature at its fi nest and its scent and sight reminded of Heather of a time when she cared about the environment. She drew strength from its mere existence.
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“I guess you found me,” she heard.
Billy voice drifted to her from the other side of the tree but she didn’t jump when she heard him. She felt his presence the moment she walked through the door.
He was the only one who could be responsible for the suddenly quivering libido.
Heather wanted for him to believe she was unaffected by his presence and took her time walking in his direction.
She walked a slow walk and whistled like a young girl, stopping only when she stood an inch from his face. They grinned at one another.
“Hi,” she said seductively and cocked her head to the side. “You’re here.”
“Always,” Billy answered.
His eyes smiled more than his mouth as he leaned his back against the tree and crossed his arms. He still wore the red bandana and its presence teased her even more than usual. She looked down and realized his body was almost fully exposed behind nothing but a fi g leaf. A memory rushed back at her and Heather shooed it away.
When she looked down at herself, she noticed her own attire was made from only the leaves of the tree and were only designed to cover her most private parts.
Heather felt something in her right hand and brought it up into her line of vision. It was an apple, red and crisp and inviting. She offered it to Billy and he put a hand up to say no.
“Why do you keep following me?” she asked teasingly.
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They were close but their bodies didn’t touch. There seemed to be an invisible line keeping him on one side and her on another. Her knees felt rubbery and her eyes forgot to blink but her lower half was screaming for attention.
“You keep inviting me,” he fi nally answered as he eyed the apple she still held out to him.
She wanted to touch him, despite her hatred for him. She fought the urge to both kiss him and to break his nose. Heather was having a diffi cult time adjusting to the fact that Billy had never been a real man and she tried to remember who he was to her before her lifetime as Heather.
He stopped smiling and Heather wished he hadn’t.
She preferred his fake laughter to the glare that threatened to burn a hole through her corneas.
“It’s not my fault,” she said. Though her mouth continued smiling, tears fell from her eyes.
She was ashamed to hear the whine and the lack of accountability in her voice but she couldn’t control either.
A terrible wail bounced off of the walls and echoed menacingly. Although she was looking directly at him and she hadn’t seen him scream, Heather knew the terrible sound had come from Billy.
He shook his head back and forth with an expression of pity. His laughter echoed though the room though he was no longer laughing. Heather felt her own deliriousness try to transform itself into giggles but held it back with everything she had lest she and the devil fall into an eternal laughing contest.
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It had always been easier to blame Billy in order to justify the affair. As long as it was his fault, it didn’t have to be Heather’s. The realization pushed her into a deeper awareness she’d never known.
A thought occurred to her.
“Wait. Why are you here? Lust was my biggest sin but there are still rooms left.”
His expression was blank and he had no reaction at all. His eyes were still sharp but gave no hint of what he was thinking or feeling, or if he were even capable of emotion.
Her heart banged against her chest so heavily, she feared he would hear it and know her terror. Her knees weakened under the stress and the small wobble caused a loss of balance, forcing her to a painful fall on her shins.
The tumble only worsened with inertia and before she knew what was happening, she lay with her cheek on the cold pavement. She stayed very still and envisioned the scratches and the gravel she knew were imprinted on her face.
Billy reached down and offered his hand but she recoiled. Unconcerned by things such as permission, he grabbed her by her clenched fi st and pulled her up. His hand was hot and strong and his grip tightened around her small fi st. He pried open her fi ngers painfully to kiss the inside of her hand.
Billy’s lip touched hers roughly. She made only small attempts to pull away from the harsh kiss and felt a burn 359
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as his fi ve o’clock shadow scratched a path across her lips, cheeks and chin.
She didn’t struggle when he picked her up and carried her to the base of the tree. He laid her on a soft bed of dirt at the foot of the trunk and Heather didn’t fi ght him.
Her breathlessness was only a by-product of the new realizations seeping in. She knew her past decisions had led her to this room and would have opted for comfortable deceit over the truth if given the choice.
Billy kissed her again and she responded. She kissed down his neck and then let her lips linger at his chest.
He had the familiar scent of musk and soap and his hair tickled her nostrils. She licked a spot below his nipple and smiled when his body jerked at the feel of her tongue.
Heather pulled herself back up and put her mouth on his but only teased a kiss. She brushed her lips across his and kissed the fl esh all the way up to his ear.
Psychology would offer her the justifi cation of an abused childhood but Heather wouldn’t be persuaded to look elsewhere for fault. Entwining her fi ngers tightly into Billy’s, she pulled her face back far enough to look into his eyes.
She took him in with all of her senses and her subconscious launched its own private investigation.
Heather thoug
ht about the power of the human eye. Each part depended upon the other in order for it to work as a whole and it amazed Heather how everyone took their sight for granted. She hoped that if she looked deep 360
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enough, Billy’s eyes would serve as windows to the next room.
The deep brown of his irises faded as Heather’s focus pushed passed the surface level. She looked deep and saw more than she wanted. In his eyes, Heather saw the truth. The faces of people she had cheated, lied to and hurt swarmed around her vision. She saw the men she had chosen and the wives they had ignored to be with her. She felt her guilt bringing them into existence and wanted to close her eyes to them so they would disappear forever.
Heather worried the images would materialize and a mob of angry women would stand before her, hands on their hips and vengeance in their hearts. She considered closing her eyes but knew her deepest problems lay in her ability to turn away from the truth. She wondered why it was Billy who had served as her object of the seductive sin for so long.
“Who are you?” she asked.
“I was here fi rst,” he said fi rmly.
Though she didn’t understand his words on a conscious level, a part of her comprehended exactly what he was saying to her. She remembered the perfection and the peace they had lived in together once but couldn’t yet remember the circumstances. She wondered if perhaps he had been a deceived husband from a past life who had never forgiven Heather her betrayals.
“Are you fi nally remembering?” he asked.
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She closed her eyes and saw herself coming out of a beautiful blue lake with long red curls. The water was crystal clear and the sky above her was the sweetest baby blue she had ever seen. Heather watched the memory unfold and saw herself walking from the water toward a man under a tree. It was the same tree they were lying under.
Heather had languished in the purity and freshness of the fat drops of water that covered her body. In the memory, she watched herself walk from the water toward the tree but she still couldn’t make out the man who waited for her.
Heather squeezed her already closed eyes as she strained for clarity. She had been completely naked and completely comfortable in her nakedness. She held a hand toward him as she approached him under the same tree so long ago, just as she held the apple to Billy moments before. As she neared the man, his face became clearer and she saw that it was Billy who waited for her under the branches of the perfect tree.
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