by Paul Seiple
The festival was a blur. The music was nothing but a distorted hum. The art was a blank canvas. The only beauty Daniel saw was Jess. He spent the concert daydreaming about her. The sweltering heat had no effect on him. Jess’s body was built in way that would make Van Gogh gladly cut off his other ear just for the opportunity to paint her. A little heat couldn’t compare to the torture of dismemberment. Daniel watched her sway, inadvertently seducing him to the rhythm of the drums. Her smile outshone the stage lights as the sun gave way to the night. Daniel knew her every move. And Jess didn’t know he existed. His shyness was no match for the swagger of the lead singer. After saying his goodbyes, and Jess giving him a generic, “It was nice to meet you,” Daniel was in love. He laughed and hummed the chorus to Bon Jovi’s “She Don’t Know Me” as he walked to his car. She didn’t even know his name.
He spent the rest of the night picturing a future with a woman that spilled a beer on him and didn’t even acknowledge it. There is no way she could like me, he thought, fluffing his pillow beneath his weary head. Look at me; I’m just a scrawny guy with glasses. I saw how she stared at those long-haired tattooed guys. I don’t stand a chance.
For the next week, he couldn’t concentrate on anything other than Jess. He pestered Beth, begging her to set them up. Beth knew Jess well and Daniel wasn’t her type, but she also knew Daniel wouldn’t stop. The nagging paid off when David called to invite Daniel to a small dinner. Beth couldn’t promise anything other than having Jess there. The rest was up to Daniel.
On the night of the date, it was just a “dinner,” but Daniel had convinced himself it was to announce the engagement to the girl of his dreams, his nerves were a wrestling match between excitement and nausea. Between dry heaves, Daniel prayed for strength from Cupid himself to summon the confidence to pull off the unimaginable. The geek getting the girl. He only had one shot to make a first impression. Daniel was pretty sure she wouldn’t remember meeting him. His palms were sweaty; his stomach had the uneasy feeling a climbing a rollercoaster and racing down the other side. The thought of cancelling crossed his mind, but he wouldn’t get another chance. He sucked it up and managed not to make a fool of himself.
That great feat didn’t impress Jess. But she did remember his name. The geek didn’t get the girl that night, but he did do enough to get her phone number. He chased her the rest of the summer. His relentless pursuit finally won her over. By the end of the summer, Daniel and Jess were dating. Just in time for her to return to school.
Jess spent a few years after high school finding herself. She traveled the world. A free spirit, never setting roots in one place for too long. Eventually she grew tired of the gypsy lifestyle and decided to come home. She enrolled at Williams University and majored in psychology. She started dating Daniel the summer before her senior year.
The school was about three and half hours north of Boxley, the small town where she and Daniel grew up. Jess would come home one weekend a month, and Daniel would visit her every other month. With graduation nearing, Jess planned to attend graduate school closer to home so they could spend more time together. Things had been going well until recently. With each passing day, Jess grew more distant. Daniel attributed the coldness to a staleness that had seeped into the relationship. He wasn’t too worried. All couples hit a stalemate at some point in a relationship. Or at least that was what he learned watching afternoon talk shows during his summer vacation. He had no experience. Clocking in at a year, this was his longest relationship. Daniel had planned a romantic dinner in hopes that it would chip away at the ice forming between them.
With the house as close to spotless as possible, including the closet that Jess had not so politely nagged about, Daniel felt good about the evening. The setting, a snapshot of a fine Italian restaurant, would surely make Jess smile. The lights were dimmed, a fresh bouquet of lilies, Jess’s favorite flower, made for a colorful centerpiece on the table. Shadows from the flame of a cinnamon-scented candle danced along the light blue walls, intertwining only as lovers could. The lace-trimmed napkins that Daniel borrowed from his grandmother added the final touch. He ordered take-out from Jess’s favorite restaurant. This night was going to be perfect. Daniel wasn’t going to risk ruining it by cooking.
Shortly after dark the door knob turned. Late as usual, he thought, greeting a frazzled Jess. Her blonde hair matted, sticking to her forehead. Dark circles from running mascara under her eyes. Her radiant smile was lost behind clouds of distress that hinted at a brewing emotional storm. Two and half hours in wet clothes after getting caught in a downpour rained out Daniel’s surprise.
“Jesus Christ, that drive was horrible,” Jess said, pushing by Daniel. She tossed her pocketbook on the couch. “Can you get my bags out of the car?’ She tugged at her tangled hair, stopping when she saw the dining room. She smiled. “What’s this?”
“It’s our anniversary,” Daniel said.
Jess shook her head. He lip curled, giving the hint of a smile. “No, it’s not.”
“Oh, but you’re wrong, my love.” Daniel paused. “Ok, you’re right, but I just wanted to cheer you up.”
“You dork. I’m taking a shower.” Jess kissed Daniel on the cheek and headed for the bathroom.
Daniel laid out everything perfectly on the table while Jess showered. This had to brighten her mood. It was all of her favorites, a Caesar salad, chicken parmesan, and cheesecake. Daniel tried to block out the obvious, but he knew something was different with Jess. The kiss? On the cheek? It was forced, much like the kiss a kid gives his grandmother. It definitely wasn’t the kiss from a girlfriend who hadn’t seen the love of her life for two weeks. She’s just tired, Daniel thought, placing a knife and fork perfectly in the center of a triangularly-folded napkin.
After the shower Jess looked reenergized. Her wet hair was pulled back in a ponytail. She borrowed Daniel’s flannel robe, even though it was summer. The glowing smile returned when she saw the dinner.
“Aw, my favorites and I’m starving. You’re too sweet.”
She hugged Daniel before sitting down at the table. The hug lacked intimacy, but then again Jess’s favorite meal was waiting to be devoured. It was hard to compete with food when Jess was hungry, and she had to be starving after the drive. Her eyes widened as she dug a fork into the Caesar salad. Conversation was minimal and mainly centered on the perfection of the marinara sauce.
Gorged and satisfied, Daniel suggested they move to the living room to relax. The awkwardness of silence wouldn’t be as noticeable with the television blaring. Jess sat away from of Daniel, letting a couch cushion separate them. She used to get as close as possible. She would tell Daniel how much she loved his smell. That’s one of the silly things lovers did. But now she sat so far away that it gave the impression of something putrid nearby. She tucked her feet under her thighs and rested her head against the armrest.
While flipping through the channels, a program about the scariest places jarred Daniel’s memory. The Ouija board, he thought. That’ll surely be a conversation starter.
“I’ll be right back,” he said.
Jess didn’t acknowledge him.
He raced back into the room with the eagerness of a boy showing off a new toy. Jess never looked up. Daniel dropped the board on the coffee table, startling Jess from sleep. She jumped. Her eyes blurry, she focused on the dim glow from a lamp that shined on the worn Ouija board. Her eyes cleared. The sinful hue hovering over the board had her attention.
“Oh, a Ouija board. Let’s play.” Jess sat up and pulled the robe, covering her exposed thigh. She grabbed the oracle. “I love these things.”
Daniel was taken aback by Jess’s enthusiasm. He had hoped the board would spark an interaction between them, but figured it would be more of her jumping into his arms, begging him to put it away. He wanted to be the knight in shining armor. He never imagined that Jess would want to use the board. Knowing the history of what happened in his teen years weighed on him. The Ouija board provided a defi
nite connection to the other side, but Daniel rationalized there wasn’t much harm in toying around with the board. For it to work, everyone had to believe. That’s what John told him when they were younger. Daniel wasn’t serious about contacting the spirit world.
“You sure?” he asked.
Jess smiled. “Grab some candles and turn the light out.”
Daniel returned with two small candles. Jess sat in front of the coffee table, cross-legged. Anticipation dripped from her smile.
“Turn the TV off,” she said.
The room went pitch black. Daniel fumbled his way to the couch.
“Put the candles on either side of the board,” Jess said.
Daniel laughed. “Should I be worried? It seems like you’ve done this before.”
“Maybe once or twice. No need to worry unless you have a secret.” Jess nudged Daniel. “Light the candles.”
The tiny flames danced across the woman’s face that was printed on the board. Her hair looked to be on fire.
“Ask it a question,” Jess said, placing her fingertips on the oracle.
Daniel took a deep breath and feigned concentration. “OK, here goes.” He placed his fingertips next to Jess’s. “Do I, Daniel Haley, love Jess Alderson?” He pushed the oracle toward “Yes.”
Jess pulled her hand away. “You’re moving it. Get serious.” She placed her fingers back on the pointer and said, “Is there anyone here that would like to speak with us?”
A chill gripped Daniel’s spine. The hairs on his arm stood up as if a jolt of electricity shot through his body. Memories of Mrs. Williamson appeared as ghosts ready to haunt. He started to move the oracle.
“Stop it,” Jess said, placing her other hand over Daniel’s to keep it still. “I’m curious. Stop messing around.”
Nothing happened. The planchette sat still on the piece of wood. Jess asked again, but no movement. “I’m going to bed,” she said, getting up.
“Do you want to try again?” Daniel asked. “I’ll be serious this time.”
Jess shook her head. “Maybe another time. I’m tired.”
Jess was nearly asleep when Daniel crawled into bed.
“I’m sorry,” he said, massaging her shoulders.
“It’s fine. The drive just drained me.”
Daniel leaned in and kissed Jess. As the kiss grew more passionate, Jess pushed away.
“I don’t feel well,” she said, holding her mouth and running to the bathroom.
Fifteen minutes later she returned. Her hair was stuck to her face again. She was sniffling. Her eyes were watery. She looked like she had lost a ten-round decision to Typhoid Mary.
“You ok?”
Jess moaned.
“Wow, who knew kissing me would make you sick.”
“Shut up. It had to be something I ate.” Jess held her stomach and sat on the side of the bed.
Daniel tried to blame the food. But he had eaten the same thing and felt fine. Something was wrong with Jess. He refused to see it.
Chapter III
Evil is done without effort, naturally, it is the working of fate; good is always the product of an art.
-Charles Baudelaire
Daniel’s internal alarm clock went off at seven as usual. He was wrapped tight in a blanket, which was rare for him even in the winter. In the summer he barely covered his body with a sheet. The old window unit sputtered and spit droplets of water to the floor, but yet the room was cold. He glanced at Jess. She slept peacefully with a glowing innocence of a child. There were no signs of the violent war that raged within her body hours before. It must have been the salad, Daniel thought, heading to the kitchen.
He stopped to get the morning paper. The staunch of humidity slapped him across the chin as he opened the door. The contrast from the chill that gripped the house nearly sent Daniel’s body into shock. He grabbed the paper and shut the door, locking the heat out. Thank you, Jesus, for a working air conditioner, he thought, throwing the paper on the kitchen table.
Daniel stepped over Rascal who was sprawled on the floor, blocking Daniel’s path to the refrigerator. It wasn’t unusual for him to have to alter his route around the cat. The solid white spitfire would often swat at Daniel’s heels in a playful plea for attention. But this morning Rascal lay lethargic. Daniel bent down to rub the cat. The hallway floor creaked, startling Rascal. The cat sprung up and took off toward the bathroom. Daniel shook his head.
“What the hell, Daniel?”
Daniel turned. Jess was standing in the doorway, shivering beneath his flannel robe.
“Last night you tried to poison me. And this morning you’re trying to freeze me to death.”
“It is chilly this morning.” Daniel laughed.
He walked toward the thermostat. To his surprise it read seventy-nine degrees. It felt more like sixty. The thermostat must be broken. He made his way back to the kitchen. Jess was sitting at the table, a smile on her face, waiting to be served breakfast.
“I take it you’re hungry.”
“Starving. Last night’s dinner didn’t stick with me.” Jess smirked.
“I’ll make some eggs.”
“Great. Over easy,” she said, picking up the paper. “So, what are we going to do today?”
Jess liked to ask seemingly easy yet hard to answer questions. Her pickiness made it a daunting task to answer correctly the first time.
“Well, I was thinking, maybe a hike on the riverfront and then a picnic,” Daniel said. He already had a backup planned in his mind.
“Sounds great. I’ll shower while you make my breakfast.”
Jess put the paper down. Before Daniel could turn around, she was gone. Her shadow scaled the hallway wall as she walked into the bathroom. Jess was still as beautiful as the day they met to Daniel. He didn’t feel she looked at him the same way. Relationships mature, people grow more comfortable, and sometimes intimacy takes a backseat. That was the case with Daniel and Jess. In the beginning they couldn’t keep their hands off each other. Daniel still longed to touch her, but she made excuses. His touch didn’t provide comfort. From the facial expressions Jess made when she thought Daniel wasn’t looking, his touch seemed to bring pain. He pretended not to see them.
Daniel was about fifteen pounds heavier than when they met. He didn’t think that was the problem. He was still on the skinny side. Besides, Jess wasn’t the shallow type. She was more of an intellectual. Conversation stimulated her. That had been the high point of their relationship. But conversations had dwindled to one word replies from Jess. The storm cloud that loomed above was about to burst. Daniel knew it. And he thought Jess knew it. She had taken a few days off of work before school started, a last stay of freedom before serving the rest of her time as a senior. And she decided to spend it with Daniel. He hoped that would be all they needed to get things back to normal. But normal was becoming a thing of the past. A relic waiting to take its place in the graveyard of dying romances.
Cheesy seventies music dominated the ride to the riverfront. Daniel attempted to spark conversation, but it was like trying to start a fire with wet matches. Jess would answer questions with a head nod or one word if Daniel was lucky. The hike wasn’t much better. Daniel’s questions were replaced with gasps for air. He had let himself go over the last year. It was almost embarrassing, but Jess used his struggle for her amusement. She would give him sarcastic words of encouragement. “Come on, Tubby. You can do it. I think I can. I think I can.” But at least it was conversation.
After the hike, they settled on a remote stretch of open field overlooking a pond. A perfect backdrop for a picnic. The sun glistened on the ripples of water, giving the effect of shattered glass. The wind picked up as clouds rolled in. A precursor to the downpour that started just as Daniel sat out the cheese and wine.
“Shit.”
The dime-sized raindrops started to wash out the picnic spread. Jess laughed, watching Daniel rush to save the food. Thunder and lightning weren’t fair behind.
“Screw it,” Daniel said, jerking the blanket out from under the food like a magician attempting his first stunt. Crackers and cheese flew in all directions.
“You’re such a dork.” Jess shook her wet head. “Let’s get out of here before we get fried.”
Laughter replaced music on the ride home. Jess made fun of Daniel for being an idiot over the picnic. She couldn’t understand why he was so determined to save grocery-store brand block cheese. Daniel didn’t care that he was the brunt of her jokes. It felt like they were connecting again. He would take a bullet to his self-esteem to steer the relationship in the right direction.
“I’m sorry I’ve been so distant lately,” Jess said. “It really isn’t you. School is getting harder, and those bitches at work put me in such a bad mood.”
Daniel climbed the imaginary wall that never existed between them. It all made sense. Jess was about to enter her senior year — the toughest year for a psych major. She always complained about her job and the incompetent employees. Daniel started to worry that he hadn’t been paying enough attention to Jess’s needs. It was always something. He was an emotional wreck. The fear of losing Jess strangled his thoughts. Even with her opening up about her emotional change. She was assuring him that the relationship was stable. He still felt that anxiety.
At home, Rascal greeted Daniel and Jess at the door, rubbing against their legs, making sure no one entered without giving him the proper greeting of head rubs. Exhausted from the hike, they decided crash on the couch for an evening of pizza and horror movies. Jess loved horror, but had to watch between the small gaps in her fingers covering her eyes. Daniel dimmed the lights, put on a slasher flick, and prepped his arm for the pain that would soon come from Jess’s nails digging into his flesh.