by Mike Kilroy
Mar followed behind him and every once in awhile he would glance back at her and catch a glimpse of the palpable concern in her strange and beautiful eyes and in her very body language.
“Where we going now?” She finally asked, her voice strained with hesitation and uncertainty of the answer.
“To the hospital. Tom said the answers are there.”
That did little to allay her fears. Solo could always sense the unease of people around him. It was easy to detect because people around him always seemed to have unease in ample supply.
This was a bit different. This was genuine concern.
Perhaps Tom was wrong about her.
Finally, Solo thought, she had summoned enough resolve to pose another question. “You still talk to Tom?”
“Unfortunately.”
Tom scoffed. “Hey, remember what I do for you. I’ve never steered you wrong.”
Oh, but he has. His definition of wrong differs from mine.
Mar hurried her steps to match Solo’s brisk pace. Uno galloped to keep up with Mar. “So, Tom is sort of like your alter ego?”
“Something like that. He was always with me and now I know why. He literally is a part of me.”
Tom smiled. “Damn right. Always will be, too. No riddin’ ya of the Tomster.”
Mar let out a nervous chortle, her words soaked in sarcasm. “Well, that’s not creepy or anything.”
“Tom wants me to go to the hospital. So, that’s where we are going.”
“Well, before we indulge your dead brother, it’s dark and Uno is tired. I think we should probably stop and rest for the night, no?”
Solo wanted to press on, but Mar was correct. He looked at Tom out of the corners of his eyes and he nodded. “Okay. First shelter we see, we stop.”
***
Solo sat on the soft carpet, rooted through his bag and pulled out bottle after bottle, reading the labels in the faint light of the moon that spilled in through the uncovered window of the quaint little house they had found.
Finally, Solo found the bottle he was looking for and cracked a half smile as he read the label: “Mephobarbital.”
“Don’t you dare!” Tom bellowed. What little of his face Solo could see illuminated in the shard of moonlight that hit it was flushed red with anger.
Solo peered down at the pills he had shaken from the bottle and then back up at Tom, who scowled and looked at him through slit eyes.
Solo felt the urge to swallow them all.
That would do it, certainly. No more bouncing back and forth between the Before and the After. No more uncertainty of what was to come and what had been. No more pain.
“Bless the man who invented sleep,” Solo whispered. “A cloak over all human thought.”
Solo grabbed one pill and popped it into his mouth and swallowed. “Sorry, Tom. I need a break.”
He put the rest of the pills back into the bottle and closed the lid.
He wasn’t quite ready for The End.
Mar swung the door open with an arm full of branches and twigs and kindling. The door creaked and Solo wondered how it stayed on its rusted hinges, but it did, and a happy Uno raced inside and jumped on Solo’s lap, licking at his face. That prompted another subdued smile from Solo.
“Are you okay?” Mar asked, setting the wood down by the fireplace and taking a seat on the carpet next to him. She leaned a shoulder into his and asked again, “Solo, you okay?” She was asking that a lot. Are you okay? had always been a popular query posed to him, it seemed.
Solo needed a break from that as well. “No. And quit asking me that.”
“Sorry.” She peered down at the floor and then reached for the bottle, squinting as she read. “Did you take these?”
“Yes.”
“You know how strong these are?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I need some peace.”
Solo peered up at Tom, who waved his hands angrily at him, and then at Mar, who bit her lower lip. “Tell me you didn’t take a handful. Please tell me you only took one.”
“I only took one. One is enough.” Solo looked back to where Tom was standing a second ago.
He was gone.
Mar grabbed Solo and helped him to his feet. “You better get to the couch. You don’t have long before you’re dead to the world.”
To this world, at least.
The room had already begun to spin and Solo already began to feel his brain shutting down. All the thoughts rattling around inside were fading away like the last note of a song fading into silence.
***
The boots, one tied, one untied, disappeared through the door and around the corner.
Eye Lyds crawled out from under the bed. She straightened the footed pajamas that made her look like a leopard—the onesie had bunched up at her waist. She breathed heavily and whimpered.
“Shhh, Eye Lyds,” Solo said, hugging her. “He’s gone now.”
“He’ll be back,” Eye Lyds said, sniffling. “He always comes back.”
“But we’re safe now. I promise.”
“Make sure he’s gone,” Eye Lyds whined.
“Okay. You stay here, Eye Lyds. See you later, alligator.”
Solo crept down the hallway, the skids on his footed pajamas, which made him look like a lion, digging into the carpet. He looked back to see Eye Lyds peeking around the corner at him, her thumb squeezed between her lips.
He heard sobbing coming from his parents' room, long, agonizing cries. Disturbing cries. They were the caterwauls of a female—his mother.
As he drew closer, he heard the words that fell softly from her lips between sorrowful sobs.
“Keep my girl safe. Please, God, don’t ruin them both.”
She repeated that over and over again, a tissue pressed to her nose as she sat facing away on her bed. Finally, she noticed Solo standing in the doorway.
Her eyes got big and she wiped the tears from her face as she slid across the quilt to face him.
“What are you doing up, Morey?” She tried to put on a good face, but Solo knew when his mother was in despair. She was in despair a great deal. Her lips quivered even though she tried to turn them up into a smile and her hands shook like the leaves on the oak tree he watched rustle in the wind outside his window.
“I saw him again, momma,” Solo said as he ran toward his mother and threw his arms around her waist. She didn't hug him back. Instead, she gently pushed him away.
“I know, Morey. It’s okay.” Tears streamed down her red cheeks. “We'll get you help so the man will go away. Now go back to bed.”
***
Solo’s eyes opened and he found himself lying in a hospital bed. Dr. Hu stood over him with that comforting smile of his that had lost its luster—it was no longer very comforting. Solo’s head throbbed, his mouth was dry and his throat was raw.
“It’s okay, Morris.” Dr. Hu said.
Solo reached for his head and ran his fingers through his greasy hair. He came to a matted part near the crown and felt a row of stitches that ran like train tracks.
Dr. Hu smiled as he spoke. “It took a lot of stitches to seal up that wound. You have a terrible concussion, but you’ll be okay.”
I’ll never be okay.
“Where’s Lydia? I need to talk to her.”
“She’s here, but it’s late and you need your rest.”
“No. I need to talk to her. It’s important.”
“Morris, you have suffered a serious injury. Whatever you have to say to her can wait, can’t it?”
Solo tried to sit up, but the room spun violently. His head began to throb and he lay his head back down gently on the pillow.
“But I have to see her. Make sure she doesn’t leave. Please.”
Dr. Hu smiled. He patted Solo on the shoulder and shook his head. “I will. Now get some rest. I’ll see to it that you see Lydia in the morning.”
Solo nodded, sighed and smiled. He shut his eyes.
***
Eye Lyds sat next to Solo on the edge of dock, their bare feet dangling over the edge. The wind was refreshing on their sweaty faces. Her hair was wet and matted to her forehead and the perspiration on her sinewy arms glistened in the light from the full moon.
Light danced on the churning water of the lake.
The water was choppy and pissed, as if it were angry at them for what they had given it just moments before.
“Maybe no one will go looking for him?” Eye Lyds said, her voice rising with optimism and excitement.
“No one is that alone. Not even us,” Solo said softly, picking at his fingers. “Everyone has someone who will go looking for them when they disappear. Everyone, even him.”
“Well, they’ll never find him. He was bad man anyway.”
“He was. But no one deserves this.”
Eye Lyds turned her head to gaze at the water. She bit her lower lip and rubbed her forearm across her sticky forehead. “Maybe I do.”
Solo’s head snapped to peer at her. He stared at her until she turned her eyes to his. “No, you don’t. You’ve always been there for me. Always looked out for me. Never kept secrets from me.”
Eye Lyds smiled. “I’m your big sister. That’s what I’m supposed to do, right?”
Solo chuckled. “My big sister? Yeah, by eight minutes.”
“That’s long enough.”
***
Solo rubbed his head again, tracing the stitches and feeling the throb pulse through his body as he stared at Eye Lyds with a scowl.
She stood in the doorway, hesitant to approach. It was as if she knew he was cross with her, as if she were six again and knew she had done something bad.
Maybe she did.
She swiftly approached and took a seat next to his bed. She reached out for his hand but he pulled it quickly away.
Eye Lyds looked at him sullenly. “What’s wrong?”
She asked it as if she already knew the reason.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
She paused and held her breath for several beats before letting it out in a gush. “Tell you what?”
“About mom and dad. You’ve never kept things from me, and for good reason. You need to tell me. Tell me everything.”
Eye Lyds lowered her head and stared at her hands. “Dr. Hu said—”
Solo interrupted. “Dr. Hu doesn’t get to decide that anymore. I have gaps, huge fucking chasms, in my memory and I need them filled in. I need to know.”
Her eyes scanned the room, resting on everything but him until he barked, “Look at me!”
She finally looked into his eyes. Hers were wet with forming tears. “Oh, Morris. I don’t know what to do.”
“What happened to our parents?”
Solo felt the hot, rancid breath of Tom in his ear. “I killed them,” Tom whispered.
Solo shut his eyes tightly and shook his head, mumbling “no, no, no,” repeatedly. He felt Eye Lyds’ grab him and ask what was wrong but his “nos” became louder and louder until they were screams.
His arms wailed and he began punching himself in the head. He felt a warm liquid running down over his closed eyes.
He heard Eye Lyds’ frantic cries. “You ripped your stitches! Oh my God, you ripped your stitches! Someone, help!”
Solo felt the room spin and felt vomit rise up into his throat and slip out between his lips. Then, everything faded away.
***
Fiona and Finn giggled as they shot their imaginary arrows into Solo’s chest.
Solo grabbed at his white T-shirt, a silver towel wrapped around his neck as a makeshift cape, his floppy fedora snug on his head.
He dramatically fell to the grass.
“Truly I was born to be an example of misfortune, and a target at which the arrows of adversity are aimed!” Solo said with the flare of an actor, and Fiona and Finn, both with stark black hair and big, round eyes, jumped on him.
“Okay,” Eye Lyds said. She didn’t smile until Solo shot her a glance. “Leave Uncle Morris alone and go get ready for dinner.”
“Okay, Mom,” they said in unison as they peeled themselves off Solo and sprinted to the door.
Solo propped his head up in the palm of his hand, his elbow stuck in the grass, and looked at Eye Lyds with a somber expression.
Eye Lyds plopped onto the turf next to him and sat Indian style, plucking blades of grass with her fingers. “I know what you’re going to say.”
“Then I don’t need to say it. Smile. Everything is okay.”
“Is it?”
“Yes. I promise.”
“I just need everything to be all right … for the twins.”
“It is.”
Eye Lyds smiled. It was a large one. Solo was relieved to see it again.
It didn’t last long. It melted away quickly as she peered over his head to the driveway.
Solo craned his neck to see what knocked that smile off her face. It was a police cruiser.
Two officers, one stocky, one spindly, got out and walked slowly toward them.
“Good afternoon,” the stocky one said. “Can we ask you some questions about your neighbor, Gordon Lyons?”
Eye Lyds and Solo shared a look. It was a subtle look, one sure not to be noticed by the officers. They had developed that skill well.
“Sure,” Solo said, pushing himself up off the ground. The spindly officer looked at him curiously, cocking his head while examining his hat and towel. “Oh, I was playing with my niece and nephew just a minute ago. They’re twins and they love to play.”
The spindly officer nodded. “We’re just canvassing the neighborhood. When was the last time you saw Mr. Lyons?”
“Well, I don’t live here. My sister does. But I visit often. I don’t think I’ve seen him for weeks. What about you, Lydia?”
Eye Lyds shook her head and slouched. Solo shot her another look and she straightened her posture and made eye contact. “Mr. Lyons? He keeps to himself. I don’t think I’ve seen him in weeks, either. What’s wrong? Is he in trouble?”
The stocky cop scribbled something into his notepad and didn’t look up before he spoke. “He’s been missing for several days.”
Solo made a tsking sound. “That’s terrible. I’ve seen on the news that there have been a lot of people gone missing around here lately.”
The spindly cop furled his brow. “Yes. Disappearances have increased. Very strange.”
“Sorry we couldn’t be of more help.”
The officers nodded and walked back to their car. It wasn’t until they had pulled away that Eye Lyds threw her face into the palms of her hands.
“They know!” She cried.
“They don’t know anything.”
She lowered her hands and looked at Solo with a gaze he had rarely seen from her. That look always scared him.
Then her eyes darted away from him, focusing on something behind him. “It was you, wasn’t it?”
***
Mar’s head rested on Solo’s chest as his eyes shot open. He thought his heavy breaths would have awoken her, but they didn’t.
She slept soundly. He wondered how she could.
Uno slept soundly, too, curled up between his legs.
Solo reached for his head, to where those stitches were in the Before, and rubbed his scalp. He couldn’t feel the scar, but knew it was there.
That’s how scars are. Sometimes they are there even if they can’t be seen or felt.
Finally, Mar stirred. “Hey, you” she purred, her eyes mere slits.
“Hey, you,” Solo responded. “We should get going.”
Mar peeled herself off Solo. Uno jumped off the couch quickly and Solo pushed himself up and to his feet. Mar put out the smoldering fire in the hearth, gathered her stuff and fed Uno scraps of jerky she had stuffed in her pocket.
“What do you think we’re going to find there at the hospital?” Mar asked.
Solo had no idea, but he could tell Tom did. His alter ego had returned, ba
ck pressed against the wall near the door, untied boot crossed over tied boot, and arms folded on his wide chest. He was scowling.
As usual.
“I don’t know,” Solo answered. “Hopefully some answers.”
Mar scoffed. “Or more questions.”
She slung her backpack and guitar over her shoulders, called Uno, who obediently followed, and pushed through the door into the chilly air. The door finally flew off the hinges and tumbled onto the deck. It gave Uno quite a fright and the pup growled and barked at the door.
Solo gathered his stuff and walked toward the door frame. Tom still stood there, glowering. “You’re as unhinged as that door if you bring her along.”
Solo merely chuckled as he passed outside, into the sunshine that felt warm on his face.
“C’mon,” Mar waved a hand. “We have a lot of ground to cover.”
There was little wind to speak of as they walked. Everything was still, eerily so. The trees, their limbs now bare, did not move.
Nothing stirred.
As they walked down an old road, as cracked and worn in the Before as it was now in the After, Solo stopped, eyeing dark shadows set against the light sky on the horizon.
Mar saw it, too. “What is it?”
Solo hoped he was wrong. “Animals. A pack for dogs probably. Looks like three of them.”
Uno growled. Mar shushed her.
Dogs had reverted to their undomesticated states. They traveled in packs, hunted together, were vicious and unyielding. Many were diseased.
The dogs stalked toward them. Even at this distance, Solo could tell they were not healthy and most likely either hungry or rabid or both. “We should cut into the brush and hopefully they won’t come in after us.”
Solo heard a cackle from Tom. “Really? Didn’t I teach you anything? They aren’t going to pass up dinner. You’re dinner.”
They pushed their way through the bramble and into thick, brown weeds before reaching a small clearing with tall, wilted grass, felled tree branches and stumps.
“This is far enough,” Solo said, kneeling like a catcher.
Mar followed his lead and kept a firm hold on Uno. Mar held her breath, worry on her face. They both listened and tried to peer through the thick cover to see if the dogs had passed.
Finally, Mar let her frustration and fear spill from her lips in an angry whisper. “I can’t see shit.”