“Whatever you’re looking for John,” Klementina said softly, “don’t let tonight push you away. We need you.”
John nodded slowly and then headed towards the elevators, only to stop again when he heard his name called. He turned back around he found Aaron standing tall with hand extended.
“We owe you one for tonight,” he said with a firm shake.
“Don’t mention it,” John replied, somewhat caught off guard.
“We’ll talk again soon.”
Aaron released his grip and walked back to Klementina, leaving John to step into the elevator and head back down to an emergency room even busier than before. Considering it was deep into the night when he stepped out onto the bustling street he flagged down a cab rather than wake up Vanessa, and on the journey back to the hotel he was forced to endure far too loud Cuban dance music that crackled through cheap speakers. The fact that he was covered in blood seemed to go completely unnoticed, or the driver simply didn’t care. Either way John was grateful when he handed over cash and slammed the door closed once they arrived at the hotel. He was exhausted and more than ready to switch off his brain.
Although nearly three in the morning the lobby was a hive of activity of late minute guests wanting to check in. He moved through them as quickly as he could and ignored the shocked look on faces that followed his every movement. How could they not be shocked? Stumbling in like he did he looked like he just came from a murder scene, a scenario he quickly realized was technically true. Whether they’d panic and call the cops or not, only time would tell.
When he finally eased his way into the hotel room the only light was a thin chrome lamp that caressed the walls with a golden glow. Draped across one of the sofas in a deep sleep, Vanessa twitched slightly at the sound of his entrance but didn’t stir. Bobbie was curled up on her stomach and lifted his head with a soft cry but wasn’t about to leave the comfort of his new bedding, so John kicked off his shoes and crept into the kitchen. The pills had barely enough time to land in his palm before they were tossed down the back of his throat and swallowed dry, with the familiar tingled rush of anticipation swift and rewarding. There was no point trying the think anymore. The demons didn’t care one way or the other if the night had been totally fucking crazy, and the more thoughts he carried to bed the more fuel they had to light the fires of hell.
He walked over to scratch Bobbie behind the ears then made his way to the bathroom where he peeled off his stained clothes. A shower would’ve been a good idea, but physical exhaustion shut it down. All he wanted was to lay back and switch his brain off. Besides, it wasn’t as if he hadn’t slept covered in blood before.
Chapter 16
The red of a sunset drenched sky was barely visible along the edges of the thick curtains that decorated the kitchen in the small bungalow. Built in the 1950’s it was one of the last remaining houses in the suburb by the water, the area having been transformed with apartments and offices over the years that left memories of innocent times buried beneath newly poured concrete. Thin cracks riddled the walls while polished wooden floors seemed out of place against green paint that was well overdue for a new coat. It had been on her to do list at one point, but Candice couldn’t bring herself to worry about décor anymore. She had bought the property less than a year ago and still had boxes in the laundry and spare bedroom that needed unpacking. Now that she knew what she knew, there was no point doing anything about it. The contents would almost certainly never see the light of day.
The sting of vodka seemed so much worse than she remembered, but then the bottle had been sitting beneath the sink untouched since the day she’d moved in. Seated at a small dining table she topped up her glass and looked around the room, trying to remember when she had last sat down to a cooked meal in her own kitchen. There was a time when she had loved to turn up the stereo and dive into a new recipe, sharpened blades slicing into carefully chosen vegetables and pans sizzling away. Now? Now she was drinking straight vodka due to the fact that the only thing that had been in the refrigerator was a wilted and blackened bag of carrots at the back of the bottom shelf. There was no point even keeping the damned thing turned on.
The crimson glow along the edges of the curtains was fading with every minute and she knew there was no point in putting the call off any longer. It had been weeks since she’d spoken with her mother and there were wounds that hadn’t quite healed yet, wounds that were both physical and emotional. For the moment though, there wasn’t much that could be done about it. Revealing the truth carried with it the risk of setting the city on fire at the worst possible time.
She swallowed a mouthful of liquid venom with a wince and tapped her mother’s number. Darkness began to settle around the curtains. The seconds ticked away and the possibility that there would be no answer began to offer a strange sense of relief. Maybe she was busy or, even more likely, maybe she didn’t want to answer. If that was the case, at least Candice could stumble to bed knowing she had tried. It wasn’t to be though, as the sound of her mother’s voice tumbled from the speaker and sent blood to rush from her stomach.
“I was beginning to think you lost my number.”
“Hi mom.”
The short silence that followed was enough to let Candice wonder if she had made a mistake, but her mom eventually continued with a simmering blend of surprise and anger that interrupted the growing thought.
“I don’t even bother trying to call you anymore because you won’t answer. Your father just went through another surgery and he’s laying the hospital wondering where the hell you are and all I can do is look him in the eyes and tell him I don’t know. How do you think that makes me feel? How do you think it makes him feel?”
“I’m sorry…”
“Maybe you are.” Her mom’s voice was shaking ever so slightly. “You know, I told myself that I wasn’t going to fight with you next time we talked and I meant it. I’m on edge because the last week or so has been difficult to say the least, what with running back and forth between the hospital and all, but… I’m glad you finally called.”
“I meant to call you earlier mom, really I did.” Candice felt the ripples of emotion beginning to rise and did her best to keep them at bay. “Work’s been insane. Hell,” she attempted to laugh, “most nights I’ve been sleeping in my office and I’m lucky if I can work out what day it is. But I’m talking to you now though, okay?” Damnit don’t start crying now, she thought. “How is dad?”
“They had to replace one of the plates in his hip that hadn’t set the way it was supposed to. He’s battered and bruised, but you know the effect he has on people. The way they treat him there you’d think he was some sort of movie star or something.”
This time Candice actually did manage to laugh, and it had been so long that the sound was strange and almost foreign.
“He did always love the attention.”
“And he’s getting it, believe me. There isn’t a nurse in the place that he doesn’t know by first name. He’s coming home tomorrow and I’m starting to think he’d rather stay.” An audible sigh whispered through the speaker. “It sure would be great if you could meet us at the hospital. It would mean the world to him.”
“I’ll try mom, really I will.” It wasn’t just a lie to smooth out the conversation. This time she would make an attempt to get away from the lab, even though the chances of success were slim. “So I know we haven’t talked much lately, but I really need you to listen now okay? It’s important.”
“I knew there was something wrong,” her mom said with a hint of worry.
“There’s nothing wrong,” Candice lied. “God knows you and dad have been through enough with all the crap I put you through, so I want to try to balance things out a little.”
“Honey, there’s nothing that needs balancing. I wish you could understand that your father and I just want things to be more like they used to.”
“Just hear me out okay?”
“I’ll listen, but I don’t want to
hear you blaming yourself for what happened to him. And if it has anything to do with this court bullshit, I hope you’re going to tell me you’ve changed your mind.”
Candice swigged some more vodka and clenched her teeth. This was what she had been worried about, the dredging up of the bombshell she’d dropped that caused so much anger and frustration. The best thing to do, she knew, was ignore the barb and get straight to the point of the call.
“The both of you have been talking about doing this for a long time now, but I know you’ve always found an excuse not to do it as well. And before you say anything, yes, my fucked up marriage didn’t help either, and I wish none of it ever happened but it did. It’s not what this call is about anyway.” She drew a deep breath in search of a little confidence. “I wanted to call tonight to tell you I’ve arranged a cruise for you and dad down to New Zealand and then to Antarctica, just like you’ve always dreamed.”
Silence greeted the announcement. Still, Candice figured it was better than a barrage of instant push back that she had been sure would come. Even though her parents had dreamed of making the journey for years now, they could also be stubborn for all the wrong reasons.
“I’m serious mom,” she continued, “it’s already booked and paid for. You leave in two weeks.”
“You must be joking,” her mom finally managed. “I hardly ever hear from you anymore and then you suddenly ring and tell me you’ve got tickets to some cruise?”
“You’ve been wanting to go for as long I can remember.”
“That was before.”
“And this is now. Everything has been arranged. All you and dad need to do is pack a suitcase.”
“If you had have visited him in hospital this time around you would have seen for yourself that he can hardly walk. How the hell do you expect him to get half way across the world?”
“Don’t worry, there’s dedicated medical staff on board and he can spend most of the trip sitting down, which is all he’ll be doing at home anyway.”
“Oh baby,” her mom said with resignation, “it’s a beautiful thought, really it is, but if you’re trying to make up for dropping the charges I’d much rather you make more of an effort to be around. You know, like a daughter should be.”
“I don’t know how many more times I can tell you that I’m not avoiding you, it’s just that work is nonstop right now.” Candice leaned down onto her elbows as guilt flushed her skin. “And maybe you’re right, maybe I am trying to make up for a few things, but it doesn’t change the fact that you and dad deserve it and so now you’re doing it. Please mom, for me.”
Although doing her best to hide it, Candice could tell her mom was struggling to hold back tears as the traces of anger in her voice fell away.
“It’s not too late you know. The lawyers said there’s still a chance to appeal the decision. Your father won’t admit it but I know deep down he’s waiting for you to change your mind.”
“Please mom, don’t.”
“He should be rotting in a filthy prison cell for what he did and you know it.”
“I don’t want to think about…”
“I know honey, but your father and I do think about it, every morning and every night. How do you think it makes us feel to know there’s nothing stopping him trying again?”
Candice reached down and gripped the glass as tightly as she could. The razor wrapped memories that had taken so painfully long to be forced kicking and screaming into the dark corner of her mind where all bad things were kept began to shift and slither through the shadows. She didn’t need a blood soaked trip down memory lane but it was coming for her regardless.
Nothing stopping him trying again.
Her mother’s bluntly stated fact helped the walls of her kitchen melt away as thoughts of the night grew strong and sharp, tearing away at the moment so that there was no defence against the snapping teeth of the past.
When the knife had punctured her stomach her initial thought had been the bastard had punched her, considering she hadn’t actually felt the blade cut through the skin and muscle. If anything there was just a moment of sheer shock at the sudden explosion of violence from the man she had promised her life to just a year or so earlier, followed by the sickening sensation of something hot and wet running down her waist and thighs.
Then there was the look that had possessed Calvin’s eyes as his hot breath had washed across her face. It was a look that delivered a morbid and twisted sense of curiosity, the kind she could imagine would grace a haunted child disembowelling their first animal kill. There’d been nothing in those blue eyes to hint at any sudden regret, nothing to try to reason with. He was her husband, and yet she had no idea or understanding of the man who quickly slid the knife out of her belly and slashed at her face. He was damage. He was confusion. He was rage.
It had been her second trip to the apartment that day to gather the last of her things. Her father had insisted on helping, his toned body still stronger than most men his age. When he had emerged from the bottom of the stairs and stepped out into the fading evening light with three heavy boxes balanced on taught arms he’d found his daughter stumbling back along the concrete path, hands held against her face with a muffled scream struggling to burst free. Looking through those blood soaked fingers, Candice had watched her father drop the boxes and react like only a father could.
First he had screamed with a rage she’d never imagined possible. Then he had charged for Calvin with arms and fists prepared to strike. For just a brief second Calvin had seemed surprised, but it didn’t last. The same morbid look was quick to enflame his eyes as he had reached out and beckoned with the blade. Her father was a brave man and was full of rage, but he was also no fool. She could remember the jolt of the concrete against her knees when she fell to the ground, and could only watch as he had made a frantic dash to the car, grabbed the revolver that was always beneath the driver’s seat, took two heavy steps and fired at the man with whom she’d vowed a life of love.
The bullet has missed, bouncing off of the path with an orange flash before shattering a car window parked along the street. Knowing his knife was now completely useless, Calvin had shaken his head as though mocking the bad shot, then spat on the ground and walked defiantly to his own car and revving the engine to life. Candice had called out to her father, had begged him to put the gun away, but there had been no negotiating with primal rage.
Shaking from the agonizing pain in her stomach and vision blurred with her own blood, there was nothing she could do as her father jumped in front of the car and took aim before the heavy metal of the vehicle smashed into him with a sickening thud, shattering his leg and hip and heaving his frame onto the street as though he had fallen from the sky. From that moment on the sound of squealing tires on asphalt would always ignite the blood red memory.
“…sometimes I wonder if you even bother listening to anything I have to say.”
Her mom’s voice came rushing back from the edge of time, suddenly loud and urgent in her ear. Candice glanced down and saw that the pressure of her hand had cracked the glass.
“Sorry mom. I’m listening.”
“I hope so, because what I’ve been trying to tell you is that we’re not in a good place just right now to think about dropping everything and taking off to another country. Surely you can understand.”
Candice reached up and rubbed the side of her temple. More than anything she wanted to break down, to drop the bullshit façade of strength of mind and be a little girl again so that the truth could simply bumble its way out, but she couldn’t. She’d grown up to believe there was integrity in truth and that honesty was the mark of compassion and intelligence, and yet ironically, the truth was that the truth was dangerous. To try to be honest now would be no different to reaching through the phone and punching a hole through her mother’s heart.
“I understand, really I do okay?” The call was never going to be easy, but it was time to at least bring it to an early finish so there was less oppo
rtunity to push back. “You and dad both know it almost killed me to have to reduce the charges, and you also know I only did it to secure a job I’ve wanted for as long as I can remember. And seriously, did you ever think it was going to be easy taking on a whole fucking family of lawyers? It would have been a nightmare and you know it.” Frustration and vodka fuelled the rise in her voice. “If anything worthwhile has come out of all of this it’s that putting things off isn’t always the best option. It’s a fucked up world out there mom, and it doesn’t have to promise anything for tomorrow.” She desperately tried to soften the edges of her words. “Your trip is already booked so please, not just for me but for dad as well, take a moment to look forward to something instead of stewing over things that we need to put behind us. I love you mom, and this is really important to me, and that’s all there is to know. I’ll see you both in the next couple of days, I promise.”
Despite the surge of guilt that promised to keep her company for the night she terminated the call before the conversation could stumble any further. At least she had finished on a truth. She would make sure to visit them in the next day or so, unless of course her brief respite from the lab was revoked. A three day grace to recharge while checking to see if her letter got through was hardly a reason to dance, but at least she could spend some time in her own bed again, even if it came with sweat soaked nightmares.
She filled up the cracked glass and stepped into the small living room, flicking on the light now that the dark of night had descended. Small piles of unwashed clothes were strewn across the two seater sofa to the point that it was almost impossible to spot the red leather. With balance slightly compromised she shuffled across the wooden floor to the antique bookcase against the wall that held a collection of her favourite science writers in no particular order, small picture frames nestled amongst the volumes. There were photos of her parents of course, as well as a photo taken on the day of her graduation with eyes wide and proud, but it was the small silver frame shaped like a tear drop on the top shelf that brought a sting to her eyes and a strange yearning to avenge her friend.
The Hallucigenia Project Page 24