by John Rector
I’d never had a blackout so total, and it scared me. In the past I’d always been able to piece together my actions, but this time there was only emptiness.
A skip in my memory.
I passed through the grove and back into the ravine. My tractor was still where I’d left it. I walked over and leaned against it and tried to think.
The idea of going back on my pills didn’t seem quite so bad anymore.
I was in over my head, and it was obvious.
I wanted to find the people responsible for Jessica’s death, and I wanted to show Liz she could trust me again, but without my pills I wouldn’t be able to do either.
I had to stop kidding myself.
I climbed out of the ravine and walked through the break in the cornfield toward home. As I walked, I heard Jessica’s voice in my mind. Not strong like before, but just as clear.
“It never used to fit. They’ll know.”
I stopped walking and looked down at the crumple of tape in my hand, then back toward the grove.
When they found the body, they’d know I’d been out there. I wouldn’t be able to hide it anymore, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.
They’d know.
Everyone would know.
The cornfield seemed to spin, and for a moment my vision darkened. I thought I heard someone’s footsteps coming down the path in the corn behind me. I turned. There was a shadow, and for a moment I thought I saw—
Nothing.
I closed my eyes and focused on my breathing and the beat of my heart. When I opened them again, everything was back to normal.
I scanned the path and the rows of corn around me. Then, when I was sure I was alone, I turned and kept walking toward home.
CHAPTER 12
“Hello, you’ve reached the Rowe residence. Please leave a message and I’ll call you back.”
I waited for the beep.
“Liz, call me as soon as you get this. We need to talk about a few things.” I spoke slow and tried to sound casual. “Nothing big, just some things I’ve been thinking about.”
I paused, then said, “Mostly I wanted to tell you I’m sorry for the other night. Everything came to the surface and I wasn’t myself. You know that’s not me, Liz. You know I’d never hurt you, I was just confused and angry, I didn’t know what—”
The machine beeped and cut me off.
I held the phone against my ear for a moment then redialed Liz’s mother’s house. It rang five times before the machine picked up.
“Me again,” I said after the beep. “I can tell you all this when you call me back, but if you don’t plan on doing that, I need to say one more thing.”
I looked up at the kitchen window and saw the afternoon sun reflecting in from the outside world. I heard Jessica’s voice tell me there were other options, that I didn’t have to say anything.
I ignored her.
“I’m going to start my medication again.”
Jessica’s voice faded, and I felt completely alone.
“I know I should start the pills and then tell you, but I wanted you to know right away. Tomorrow I’m going into town to fill my prescription. It’s been a while, but I shouldn’t have any problems. If I do, I’ll have them call Dr. Conner up at Archway. He’ll take care of it over the phone.”
I crossed to the refrigerator and grabbed a beer. Something moved outside the window, but I didn’t look up, didn’t want to. Instead, I set the bottle on the table and paced the room while I spoke.
“I want you to know you don’t have to be scared of me and you don’t have to leave.” I paused. “I mean, I’m not saying you should come home tonight or anything, I just—”
The machine beeped and clicked off.
“Shit.”
I hung up and redialed and waited for the beep again, then said, “Tell Ellen I’m sorry. I shouldn’t leave all of this on her machine, so I’ll make this one short. I’d like you to come home when you feel better about us, OK? We can work through this together, and I’m willing to do whatever it takes because I love you.”
Jessica’s voice came again, stronger this time, bouncing through my mind in a little girl’s singsong tone.
“But she doesn’t love you.”
I sat at the table and picked at the label on the bottle, then took a drink. Jessica’s voice was getting louder, closer, repeating over and over.
“But she doesn’t love you. She doesn’t love you.”
I closed my eyes and bit the insides of my cheeks and whispered, “Stop it.”
I didn’t think I’d said it loud enough for it to come through on the message, but just in case I thought it might be a good idea to hang up. The last thing I wanted was to sound crazy.
“Call me please, Liz,” I said. “I lov—”
The machine clicked off.
I let the phone drop. It bounced off my lap, hit the floor, and slid toward the wall, pulled by the cord.
I sat for a while, breathing slow, trying to silence Jessica’s voice in my head.
Eventually it faded.
I finished my beer, then took a bottle of Johnny Walker from the cabinet and went outside. I sat on the porch steps and stared out at the field.
I wondered if Liz would return my call.
Part of me didn’t think she would.
I sat and drank for a long time. After a while, I eased back on the porch, closed my eyes, and slept.
I didn’t dream.
When I woke, the shadows had stretched long toward the east. The wind had picked up, and the cottonwoods in the grove swayed like false gods, holding dominion over their flock.
I looked down at the bottle. It was almost gone, and I considered getting up and grabbing another. Instead, I stayed where I was and closed my eyes again, imagining Liz was there with me.
I pictured her dark hair pulled back and tied into a loose bun just above her neck, the way she’d worn it every summer since we’d met. She was sitting in her chair, her legs tucked under her, a book open on her lap.
“What are you reading?” I asked.
She looked up and smiled, then went back to her book.
Behind her the sunlight dripped soft and golden across the field. I watched her for a while, then said, “You didn’t have to leave. We could’ve worked things out.”
She ignored me, but I didn’t care. I needed to talk to someone, anyone, real or not.
I stared out at the field and the wide break in the rows further down.
“I think I might’ve done something really bad,” I said. “The night you were here.”
No answer.
“I had a blackout. The first one since Tony Quinn.”
Liz and I hadn’t discussed Tony since before we were married, and I knew if anything would get her attention, it was the mention of his name. But she still didn’t look up from her book.
“I think it happened again, but I’m not sure.”
Somewhere far off, I heard someone laugh. It was a girl’s voice; then it was gone.
I thought about Tony and the night downtown and how the blood had looked black under the streetlight. I remembered the small chip of bone they’d found in my pocket after I’d been arrested, how it’d been perfectly clean and smooth and white. I remember hoping they’d let me keep it, but they didn’t.
“I feel like things are spinning away from me again,” I felt tears behind my eyes, but I pushed them back. “God, I wish you hadn’t left. I wish you’d stayed here with me.”
I looked over at Liz, but she’d changed. Her hair hung down over her shoulders, shielding her face. The book was gone and she was staring at her lap, absently tracing the thin gold hem of her black dress with her thumb.
I stared at her. “Where did you get that dress?”
She didn’t answer. I asked again.
She looked up and smiled. Her teeth were mossy and gray, and when she spoke her voice sounded thick and wet.
“I thought you’d like it.”
I o
pened my eyes and sat up fast.
I felt the whiskey climb toward my throat and I swallowed hard to keep it down.
“Dexter?”
Jessica’s voice.
I closed my eyes and tried to push it out of my head. I couldn’t shake the image of Liz in the Riverside Café uniform or the sound of her voice, like she’d been talking through gravel.
“Dexter?”
I heard something shift on the porch to my right, and when I looked up I had to force myself not to cry out. Instead, I jerked away, sliding back across the porch.
“Are you OK?”
I didn’t say anything, just stared.
Jessica was sitting in Liz’s chair with her elbows on her knees, her chin resting on one upturned palm.
“I didn’t mean to scare you.”
She smiled, and her skin looked pink and clean and smooth in the afternoon light.
I didn’t smile back, and I didn’t look away.
“Say something, please,” she said.
She was right next to me. I couldn’t convince myself she wasn’t, even though I knew better.
“Dex, please.”
She looked so young, so untouched. Seeing her there drained everything else away. Listening to her speak made the world seem sane.
“What the hell is this?” I asked.
Jessica bit her lower lip. Her eyes moved back and forth between mine. I saw her chest rise and fall with each breath.
“Are you mad?” she asked.
I didn’t answer right away. Instead, I turned and stared out at the field, green and gold and endless in the evening light.
PART II
TUESDAY
CHAPTER 13
“Did you talk to your doctor about this?”
“The prescription should still be good.”
The pharmacist typed something into his computer and said, “That’s not the problem. You say you stopped taking these pills how long ago?”
I told him.
“Any dizziness or headaches?”
I nodded
“Shakes or tremors?”
“Sure.”
He frowned and stepped away from the computer. “You can’t just quit taking this medication like that.”
“Why not?”
“It’s dangerous for one. You’re having withdrawal symptoms already, but beyond that, you could do serious damage to your nervous system.”
“It doesn’t matter now,” I said. “I’m going to start them again today.”
The pharmacist shook his head. “Mr. McCray, you can’t just start them again, either. You need to build to a level that works for you, and you shouldn’t do that on your own. Have you talked to your doctor?” He looked back at the computer screen. “Dr. Conner?”
“Not yet.”
“I’m afraid I can’t fill this prescription without assurance that he is aware of the situation.”
“I’ve been taking these pills for years. I know what works and what doesn’t.”
He shook his head. “I’m sorry.”
“Call him,” I said. “He’ll tell you.”
The pharmacist moved back to the computer and started typing. “I can call his office,” he said. “Would you like to wait? It might take a while.”
“No,” I said. “I’ll come back.”
The pharmacist nodded then went back to his screen.
I walked out of the store and into the morning.
“Her mother is absolutely losing her mind.”
“Well, what’d you expect?”
The woman behind the counter turned away from the cook’s window and shook her head. “Breaks your heart, to be a mother.”
The man in the kitchen said something I didn’t catch and was gone. The woman grabbed the coffee pot off the burner and made her rounds.
When she got to me, she filled my cup and said, “Couldn’t stay away, could you?”
I glanced down at what was left of the omelet. “Best I’ve ever had, I told you.”
She smiled, but there was nothing behind it.
“Megan not working today?”
“She’s sick. Told her to stay away.”
She started to move on and I said, “Has anyone heard anything? About the other girl?”
She shook her head. “Sheriff Nash was here this morning, asking questions. Said he’d been all over town, but nobody seems to know a thing. I mentioned the boyfriend, said maybe they’d eloped or something, but he said the boyfriend was still around.”
“Well, there goes that theory.” I sipped my coffee. “Did he have any ideas?”
“If he did, he didn’t mention them to me.” She shifted the coffee pot from one hand to the other. “I sure hope she’s OK. Maybe the boyfriend can tell him something that’ll help.”
“He hadn’t talked to him?”
“Going there after he left here, he said.”
I frowned, and the woman must’ve noticed. “Something wrong?”
“No,” I said, cutting into the last of my omelet. “Just thought the boyfriend would’ve been his first stop.”
“Why’s that?”
I took a bite. “You always hear whenever someone is murdered the most likely killer is either the boyfriend or the husband, so I figured—”
The woman’s mouth seemed to come unhinged, and I stopped talking. At first I didn’t know what I’d said, then it came clear.
“Why in the world would you think she’s been murdered?”
“I’m just saying—”
“That girl ran off, that’s what happened. There’s no reason to think anything else.” The woman turned away so fast that some coffee splashed out of the pot and hit the floor. She didn’t notice.
“I didn’t mean anything by it,” I said.
“I don’t see why people have to jump to the worst so fast.” She poured coffee for the couple at the next booth then looked back at me. “There are ten million other possibilities, you know that?”
“Yes ma’am, I do.”
She came back to my table. “You watch a lot of those cop shows on TV, don’t you?”
“Every chance I get,” I lied. The truth was I didn’t even own a TV. The last thing I wanted in my house was a twenty-four-hour electronic salesman.
“It shows,” she said. “Let me tell you, they ain’t real. People don’t just wind up dead like that in real life, especially not around here.”
“No, you’re right.” I tried to smile. “I need to lay off those shows.”
“Damn right you do.” She thumbed through the pocket of her apron, pulled out my bill, and slapped it on the table. “Murdered,” she said, and walked away.
I picked up the bill, dropped a ten on the table, and left.
Crossing the parking lot, I cursed myself for being so stupid. I’d come back to see if I could learn more from Megan, but all I’d done was make myself look suspicious.
I sat in my truck for a while, wondering how much damage I’d just done, then started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot.
CHAPTER 14
When I got to the pharmacy I went to the back of the store and rang the service bell at the window. The pharmacist was on the phone. When he saw me he raised one finger and continued his conversation.
After he hung up he came over and said, “You have good timing. That was Dr. Conner up at Archway.”
“And?”
“He said it was OK to refill the prescription, so that’s what I’ll do.” He paused. “He did give specific dosing instructions, and I can go over those with you when I have it filled.”
“How long will that be?”
“Not long,” he said. “I’ll call your name when it’s ready.”
While I waited, I paced through the aisles, eventually stopping at the magazine rack. I grabbed the thickest one I saw and flipped through pages that smelled acidic and flowery. I put it back and reached for another.
A collage of makeup and clothing advertisements, meaningless articles about sex and lo
ve. Nothing in any of them made sense.
I flipped through the magazine faster, then put it down and tried another. Then another. They were all exactly the same, and the pages blurred.
I heard someone whisper, and turned around.
The kid behind me had pomegranate red hair that spun off his head in ringlets. He had his mother’s coat sleeve in his hand and he was whispering to her and staring at me. She looked down at him, then up at me, her eyes wide.
“Good morning, Dex.”
Her name was Theresa Hall, and she’d been a year behind me in high school. We’d rarely spoken in those days, even less since then, and I didn’t have much to say to her now. I nodded my greeting.
The boy kept staring until she put one hand on the back of his neck and led him around the corner, away from me.
I wondered about his father.
If Theresa was the same kind of girl she’d been in high school, the possibilities were endless.
I was glad she was gone.
I looked down at the magazine in my hand. It was open to a page that showed a close-up of a woman’s eyes. There were no words on the page, just those two green eyes.
The pharmacist’s voice came over the speaker, calling my name. I closed the magazine, slid it into the rack, and walked back to the window.
The pharmacist watched me approach. When I got there he said, “Are you doing OK?”
I told him I was and reached for the bag.
He pulled it away. “Let’s go over Dr. Conner’s instructions.”
I listened to him run down his list and then held out my hand again.
For a moment the pharmacist didn’t move; then he dropped the bag on the counter and said, “You can pay for these back here if you’d like.”
I told him I would, and that’s what I did.
I sat in my truck and read the instructions on the label, then opened the bottle and tapped one of the pills into my palm. It was small and red, the size of a ladybug.
I picked it up and dropped it in my mouth, but I didn’t swallow. Something held me back.
Was it really what I wanted?