by Mallory Hill
We didn’t end up getting much done that day. They reopened the shed eventually, but I had no desire to revisit that scene, cleaned up or not. Grant kept an eye on me, probably trying to be a little less noticeable about it than he was. And Mimi was always in sight, though she’d been forced to return to her habit of masking her feelings with a façade of false joy. Though it was definitely a little demeaning that they felt such an obligation to look out for my unstable wreck of a self, something about it did make me feel safer. I’d seen something horrible, a sight I would never forget no matter how hard I tried. But I hadn’t had to go through it alone.
Chapter 23
<<<
I didn’t tell Will what had happened that day. It wasn’t anything against him. I honestly just didn’t want to think about it anymore than I inevitably would for the rest of my life. We’d parted sort of uncertainly and I hated that. Unfortunately, I was a little too shaken up to do much about it when I got home that evening. We weren’t fighting or anything. I even got a goodnight kiss when all was said and done. But the unresolved unpleasantries of our earlier conversation, his opposition to the plan I was now more determined than ever to put into action, still lingered in the stagnant air of our dark little bedroom.
Getting back into the swing of things at work proved a formidable challenge. The whole farm had become filled with negative associations and constant reminders of all things terrible. Going into the shed, I could feel the exact spot where a soul had left its body. Donning a pair of gloves, I could see Will, tortured and confused, being pushed to the floor of his cage. And heading back into the cornfield, I was reminded of all the pent-up heartache Grant and Mimi had endured and how keeping all that at bay somehow hinged on my eventual success.
Yes, we were back to corn. That seemed like a pretty reliable outdoor task, just as indoors there was always something in need of potting. Mimi and I had gone out alone, Grant being occupied with his accident report paperwork. However, we were on much better terms with each other since our last corn adventure.
“So how are you doing?” she asked once we were safely immersed in the field.
I shrugged. “I’ve been better probably. You?”
She smiled, but it was a fortified smile that suited her much better. “Holding up just fine I think. At least the weather’s nice. I didn’t want to be cooped up with everyone just in case I let something slip. We have to be so careful around here. The slightest trigger will set these people off. The newer ones at least.” She glanced at me apologetically, realizing I was still relatively fresh off the train.
“Don’t I know it,” I acknowledged.
“Anyway, corn’s not so bad. It’s simple. And on a day like today, not a cloud in the sky, it might be good for us. Vitamin D and all that.” She grinned, in wildly better spirits than last time.
Of course, I instantly felt a little pang of homesickness. “My mom used to say stuff like that,” I said as we got to work.
“Everyone I knew said stuff like that,” Mimi sighed. “When Grant died, it was just remedy after remedy. Everyone thinks they have a cure for sadness, but sometimes you just have to grieve. I guess maybe you don’t necessarily have to kill yourself afterwards, but… Well, nothing they said ever did me much good.”
I knew literally nothing of Mimi’s intermediate period, the time between Grant’s death and her own. I was super curious, but I knew I couldn’t take more than she would willingly offer.
“What all did they say?” I asked as casually as possible.
“Oh, you know, the usual. I’m sure it was no different from your experience.”
My experience? The majority of my experience was my mom telling me I was being overdramatic, and she didn’t even know the whole truth.
“Actually, I never told anyone. Everybody still thinks I was selected for my ticket.”
She stopped working for a second and looked at me. “Oh… Well, there are a couple different schools of thought on the subject I guess. My chemist friends had complete confidence in medication, which obviously didn’t do the trick for me. My parents are the old-fashioned religious type, so every word out of their mouths was about God having a higher plan for my life and how it was all for a reason. Then there are the people who think the best thing to do is just get out there and live to the fullest, which for me, living to the fullest was having my family. My own little family with Grant and whoever else happened to come along. Trying to imagine having that life with anyone but him… I couldn’t do it. And when you’re denied your dream, everything else starts to lose its appeal. You get that part, don’t you?”
I nodded. “Yeah, that’s pretty universal… Do you still want kids then?” Now that she had Grant, maybe that dream wasn’t so unattainable anymore.
She laughed a little, but there was hardly any joy in it. “Um… That’s an excellent question. I guess the simple answer is no. It sort of has to be.” She was getting emotional. She took a deep breath and then returned to the corn.
Trying not to overstep my boundaries, I dug just a little deeper. “Is it cool if I ask why?”
She nodded, but I got the sense it really wasn’t. “Yeah, um… I have a single bedroom apartment. I work basically dawn to dusk and I earn a farm wage, which only covers bare necessities. It’s not really a question of what I want anymore.” Though I was certain she was on the brink of bursting out in tears, she held her composure remarkably well. Her dream was dead. Terminal B had killed it.
“That’s why you want to go back?” I guessed.
“Yes. Don’t tell Grant, but that’s part of the reason I was so hesitant to take him back. We don’t have a lot of control. It could happen all too easily, and I just don’t know how we’d survive. So I’m stuck. I don’t want to ignore him for the rest of my life, but being careful isn’t an option here, so… I mean, what can I do?”
I was the wrong person to ask, what with my days-old, first ever relationship and its totally asexual nature. “I…don’t know,” I stammered uncertainly.
She softened a little. “No, of course not. I’m just worried. There are so many unknowns. Well, that’s quite enough out of me. Here we were trying to have ourselves a good day, and I’ve gone and ruined it.”
“No,” I said impulsively. “I like this. I want you to be real with me. It’s like,” I shrugged, “I don’t know, it’s like we’re friends or something.”
It may be hard to believe given my vibrant personality and flawless social graces, but I was not good at making friends. Usually, I didn’t want them, but it was nice hearing someone else complain for a change. I didn’t feel as whiny when there was someone to commiserate.
She smiled but went on working without giving any real indication of her thoughts on the subject. I got the feeling I now had the floor and racked my brain for something to contribute to the conversation.
“Will and I are sort of… Well, we’re not the best of friends right now. He thinks my plan is stupid or dangerous or something.”
He was working today. I hoped he wasn’t still upset with me. It was bad enough he’d be electrocuted; the last thing I wanted was to add to his suffering.
“Is it?” Mimi asked. “Stupid or dangerous or something?”
“Well, I don’t know. I haven’t really figured out what to do just yet. I mean, I’ll sneak down and take a train I guess, but after that I’m not sure.”
I’d never tried to get a message out before. I was guessing I’d need a little more than just word of mouth if I wanted my return from the dead to be universally known.
“It won’t be easy,” Mimi said. “You’ll have to be very cautious, only talk to the right people. Can you imagine how surprised they’ll be? Everyone you left behind seeing you’re alive. When I first saw Grant here, it was… not pretty. Word of advice, be very gentle. Disillusionment is a delicate art.”
I hadn’t even considered how
I’d break it to my mom. Just showing up out of the blue would probably give her a heart attack, but I didn’t have many other options.
“Art’s never really been my strongest suit.” I pulled at more corn tops in frustration as my doubts started to accumulate.
I couldn’t let myself dwell on it. Mom would just have to suck it up and help me get the word out, and, if not, I’d do it myself. One way or another, this was happening. I was running out of time.
Will was a little sloppy that evening. He understood that I was trying to take him home, but he kept stumbling over himself on the way to the truck. I essentially dragged him most of the way while he grumbled incoherently.
We drove home in silence, and I couldn’t help wondering if he was upset with me or just tired. I knew we needed to have a talk eventually, but he needed to be in his right mind for that. So we just went on being awkward, even as I all but carried him into the apartment.
He flopped down in exhaustion, and I wasn’t far behind. I wasn’t particularly well equipped for supporting almost his entire body weight. But before I could even think about getting a quick nap in before dinner, he sat up clutching his forehead.
“Hey, are you okay?” I asked, trying my best to be attentive despite my lack of energy.
He shook his head and held up a hand so I’d stay back. He leaned against the wall with his eyes squeezed shut and took several long breaths. All I could do was watch. He was trying so hard. Why wouldn’t he just let me help him? I could get him out of here. I could really, actually save his life, but he wouldn’t let me.
Finally, he sighed, relaxing a little but staying upright. “I’m okay,” he mumbled unconvincingly.
I moved to sit next to him. “Really?”
He nodded without looking at me. “I just got dizzy.” He offered me a dopey grin, but I didn’t buy it.
“I hate seeing you hurt,” I said gently. “It kills me.”
His smile vanished and I saw a little glimmer of guilt in his eyes. “I know.”
“But that doesn’t mean you have to hide it from me. Will, I want to help you.”
“You are helping me.”
“I want to do more.”
He turned away from me, pressing his face against the wall. I was only making things worse. I sighed and tried to keep it together.
“You know, I get it,” I said. “I really do. You don’t want to seem weak. You don’t want to be a burden on me. You think you’re doing me a favor by not letting me in, but you’re not. You’re just pushing me away… I told my mom I got selected. I lied to her not because I didn’t love her but because I didn’t want to disappoint her. Will, if you’re hurting, I want you to tell me. I want you to believe I’ll be here for you no matter what. And whatever sacrifices I make to help you, that’s my choice. You’re not forcing me to put myself at risk. I would gladly do anything for you because I really, genuinely care about you.”
He didn’t respond. He sat perfectly still except for a little shaking. I knew I couldn’t expect anything right away. He had to work through this, whatever it was. He had to learn to trust me on his own. And much as it pained me, I had to let him take as much time as he needed.
I leaned in and kissed his forehead, hoping it wasn’t still sensitive or anything. He suddenly wrapped his arms around me and held me there for a long time. I could feel him crying as he kissed my face over and over again. I longed for a way to fix everything, a way he’d approve of that wouldn’t terrify him so much. But everything in the world was wrong. There was no easy solution.
I shut my eyes, let him cry himself to sleep, and hoped for a miracle.
Chapter 24
<<<
I went to work feeling absolutely awful. Every bit of me ached and my brain felt like a heavy, syrupy goo. I wasn’t sick though. No, it was a familiar feeling, one that had been a staple of my life not long ago. It was life caving in all around me, pushing me ever nearer to the edge. I started thinking about the future. Will would die, then I’d die, then everyone else would die. Honestly, that was where we were heading anyway. I wondered why our lives had to be so prolonged when every waking hour was filled with utter misery. It seemed simpler to just leave it all behind, skip all the difficult, gut-wrenching stuff, and cut right to the part where we die. The happy ending.
I envied that man in the shed. His suffering was over. He didn’t have to deal with all the ridiculous costs of living anymore, the worry, the heartache, grinning and bearing it so your coworkers won’t see you’re about to snap. I knew we had an honesty thing going for us now, but they were counting on me to put a plan in action. I couldn’t let them down. I couldn’t let them know I was on the brink of giving up.
Grant was back out with us, and he assured me he’d have the train information for me just as soon as he could. He mostly only talked to Mimi the rest of the day, and I was grateful for it. I didn’t want to talk about myself. There were too many problems involved.
Of course, ever the dutiful supervisor, he did feel the need to ask me how I felt about our friend in the shed.
“I hope it didn’t scare you too much,” he said with his sweet, nice-guy smile.
“No, not really. Not at all actually.” I hadn’t been afraid. Not then, not now or anytime in between. I’d certainly felt a lot of other things, but somehow fear hadn’t been in the mix.
“Really?” he asked. “You took it pretty hard.”
I recalled crying in his office for a shamefully long time.
“I was mad. He was a regular guy, and this stupid system made him one of us crazies.”
Grant shrugged. “It happens. The clean-up crew said they get a couple cases a month from all over. The plant, factories, even management sometimes, so I guess we’re not that crazy. If everyone’s doing it, it must just be, I don’t know, part of life.”
I looked at him sharply. “And you’re okay with that?”
“No, but I think it’s avoidable. If you have the right people with you, if you build a solid support network—”
“Grant, support groups aren’t going to cure suicide.”
He got defensive. “Yeah, well, neither is your little rescue mission so…” He fell silent, probably trying not to offend me.
Mimi glanced back and forth between us. “We’re not looking for a cure,” she ventured quietly. “We just need help, anyway we can get it. We’re all on the same team. Let’s not forget that.”
She was right, much as I hated to admit it. Grant and I just had a thing for bickering, and it was easier to get into a fight than deal with what I had going on in my head.
We went back to work silently, but that didn’t last long either.
“Laura, how’s Will doing?” Mimi asked, just making casual conversation.
For some reason, my body decided the best way to respond was to laugh. “Oh, God, you really want to know? Okay, well, last night we drew some really interesting parallels between our conditions, which was super fun. And now I’m kind of freaking out because he won’t talk to me, and I’m pretty sure he’s getting depressed, and our relationship really can’t handle any more of that so… Not great.”
I really needed to keep it together. I couldn’t keep breaking down like that, especially when there was nothing anyone could do about it.
“I’m sorry,” I continued. “It’s just—”
“No,” Mimi stopped me. “That’s the truth. I get it.”
I nodded. “I’m really worried about him.”
Mimi hugged me as a single, insubordinate tear fought its way out of me. “I know,” she said. “Believe me, I understand.”
But she didn’t. Sure, she’d lost Grant for a while, but there he was, good as new, right before our eyes. I was dealing with a much more certain death. A death that could be seen and felt and that no amount of train rides could overturn.
Still, I was
able to compose myself. “Thanks.”
Grant muttered something under his breath.
“You got something to say?” I asked, always ready to get into it with him.
He shrugged. “Support groups. Pretty useless, right?” He smirked at me. I hated his stupid guts.
I don’t know, I guess maybe they got through to me or whatever. I didn’t go to their support group after work, but I was determined to clear things up with Will once and for all. I had to show him I would be there for him and do my best to see things his way. I absolutely wasn’t going to give in. I refused to watch him die if there was anything at all I could do about it, but I could let him feel heard.
I never knocked. The door was never locked, and it was my apartment technically. But maybe I’d have to start knocking.
Will was in a towel when I barged in ready to crush him with compassion. He paused and stared at me, boxers in hand, not really embarrassed but fully aware that I’d been seconds away from witnessing the total package.
“Oh!” I said after instinctively looking him up and down. Just flawless! “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you showered this late.”
He quickly pulled his underwear on under the towel. “I don’t typically. I just felt a little dirtier today.”
That didn’t seem right.
“Okay. I can wait while you change.”
He pulled the towel off. “You’ve seen my panties like a hundred times. I’m kind of over it.” He smiled, and I was a little more at ease.
“If you say so.” I came inside and shut the door.
“So how was work?” he asked, hanging the towel over the bathroom door.
“Not bad. I only had one fit of obnoxious sarcasm, so that’s an improvement.” I smiled, doing my best to put him in a good mood.
He nodded. “Good.”
I wasn’t sure why, but I felt like something was up. He wasn’t acting right.
“How was your day?” I asked.