Life Rage

by L. L. Soares

  “I insist,” Jeremy said. “If you want to, I really want you to stay.”

  “I didn’t bring anything with me,” she said. “I don’t have any other clothes.”

  “Don’t worry. Viv might have something.”

  Viv? she wondered. Who is that? I thought he lived alone.

  “Did you notice if I brought my purse with me?” she asked. “Where are my clothes?”

  Just then, someone was outside the sliding glass doors, looking in.

  “Viv’s back,” Jeremy said. “Please stay and meet her.”

  She really didn’t want to go out into the night. It would take forever to get back to her apartment. And maybe Turney’s killer was looking for her. The buses ran so seldom at night. She wasn’t even sure what time it was.

  “Okay,” she said, as Viv opened the glass door and came inside.

  As the door opened, Colleen could hear the roar of the waves outside.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  The kid was very tense as he sat across from Sam. He looked like a cornered animal. There was an odd look in his eyes. Clearly, he wasn’t here because he wanted to be. Normally, Sam didn’t see patients so late in the day, it was already getting dark outside, but the boy’s mother had insisted it was urgent they start sessions right away.

  “So Charlie,” Sam said, debating the best way to start. “Your mother tells me you have a hard time controlling your temper.” Might as well get right to the point.

  “She’s a liar,” Charlie said. He adjusted his long hair, and it hid his eyes for a moment. His mouth was a scowl. “There’s no reason why I should be here.”

  “Well, I’ll tell you Charlie. You don’t seem real calm to me.”

  “I don’t want to be here, don’t you see? Who’s going to be calm somewhere they

  don’t wanna be?”

  “Makes sense,” Sam said. “I’d feel the same way.”

  “That bitch lied to you. We’ve been having problems, sure we have. But there ain’t nothing wrong with my head. I don’t need to see a shrink.”

  “So you really don’t see any point in being here?”

  “You got that right.”

  “Well, why do you think your mother would lie about that?”

  “Who the fuck knows? She’s the one who should be here.”

  “Do you think your mother’s crazy, Charlie? Do you think there’s something wrong with her?”

  “How the fuck do I know? I got some fancy degree?”

  “You can’t tell by the way she acts? The way she talks?”

  Charlie stared straight ahead. “I don’t want to talk about her. This is a fucking waste of time.”

  “You know, you might be right. But I have to at least pretend like I’m trying to help you, don’t I? Can’t go taking money for nothing, can I?”

  “Fuck I care.”

  “Stand up,” Sam said.

  Might as well stir things up, he thought.

  “What?”

  “You heard me. Stand up.”

  “What the fuck for?”

  Sam got up from his seat and went over to where Charlie was sitting. He looked down at him. “Stand the fuck up, Charlie.”

  “You fucking with me?”

  “You got that right.”

  Sam felt something crackling just under his skin. This was exhilarating.

  Charlie stood up, right in front of him. Their faces almost touched.

  “You wanna start something right here?” Charlie asked. Something in his voice told Sam he was waiting for a word. An excuse to strike out.

  Sam smiled. There was a tingling along the length of his spine. He wasn’t sure what to do next, but he didn’t want the feeling to end. The air was crackling around them and Charlie felt it, too.

  Charlie reached under his jacket, and pulled out a knife. “Get away from me, or I’ll cut you!”

  “Put it away,” Sam said, stepping back a bit. “And let’s talk about how you’re feeling right now.”

  “Fuck that. Don’t you dare put your hands on me.”

  “Calm down, Charlie, I’m not going to hurt you.”

  “You bet you’re not!”

  Charlie lunged at him. Sam first disarmed him of the knife, then he had Charlie in a tight hold. The kid was struggling.

  “I thought you didn’t have a bad temper?”

  “Fuck you!”

  “Calm down, Charlie,” Sam said. “And let’s talk about it.”

  There was an electric transference. Something was subtracted from Charlie and added to Sam. Sam felt Charlie go limp. It only lasted a moment, but it was enough to take the fight out of him. Sam put him back in his chair.

  He stood there, watching. Charlie seemed subdued, and a little dazed. Sam could feel a tingling throughout his body. He hesitated a moment before he went back to his own chair.

  “So we had our little confrontation,” Sam said. “You knew it was going to happen sooner or later. Better sooner, I say. Now that we have this bullshit out of the way, we can talk seriously about why you’re here.”

  “Fuck you.” Charlie said again, softly this time, his eyes looking glazed over.

  “You’ve got a temper, Charlie. It’s so obvious that it’s a joke to deny it. The first time I laid eyes on you, I saw it. The anger. The only way to get it under control is to learn to deal with it.”

  Sam felt a sudden rush of adrenaline wash over him. He tried to resist smiling, since it might antagonize Charlie more, but it felt so good. He tried to keep his face rigid.

  “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

  “I don’t care what you want, Charlie,” he said, finding it difficult to talk, to concentrate. “You’re here to learn how to control yourself, and I’m the guy to teach you.”

  Charlie stared at the wall, saying nothing.

  “Why all the anger?” Sam asked. “What do you have to be angry about?”

  Charlie laughed. “What do I have to be angry about?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Man, I got so much anger inside of me, I can’t even get away from it in my sleep. It’s like I’m always wound up tight. I don’t know how to fucking turn it off.” The dazed look in his eyes was gone now, replaced by the fire. He was himself again. A match always on the verge of being struck.

  “Tell me more, Charlie.”

  “I hear all this bullshit about road rage, air rage, black rage, white rage, male rage, female rage, kid rage. Fuck, man, I got fucking life rage. Just being alive makes me pissed off all the fucking time.”

  “How long have you felt like this?”

  “All the fucking time I can remember. When I was a little kid, I was mad all the fucking time. They gave me some bullshit pills to mellow me out, but it never changed anything. It just kept me dopey. Then I get older and they say I’m too old for those pills, time to grow up. But the rage, it’s still there, you know? It didn’t just go away.”

  “You must get in a lot of fights.”

  “Fuck, yeah. People get in my face; I make them wish they hadn’t. I’ve even been arrested a few times.”

  “Are all these fights justified? Do these people always do something to you, asking for it? Or do you ever attack anyone for minor offenses? Petty shit?”

  “What’s petty shit? Someone fucks with me, that ain’t petty. Someone gets in my face, that’s enough to justify my actions.”

  “I hear you attacked an old woman once. What did she do to you that deserved you putting your hands on her?”

  “She was yelling at me. Waving her arms like she was going to touch me or

  something. I didn’t give her the chance, the fucking bitch.”

  “Sounds scary,” Sam said. “Some old woman. Lucky she didn’t kill you.”

  Charlie looked at him. “Shut the fuck up.”

  “You always so fucking articulate?” Sam asked. “This the way you talk to people in day to day life? Your teachers, your mother?”

  “I talk to people how they deserve to be talked to.”


  “Well, that’s all going to change, Charlie. You just need some guidance, that’s all. It’s a good thing your mother brought you here. I’m an expert in these things. She told me you almost went to jail for a few years. Somehow, you got out of it. But I don’t see that lasting. You’ll have another run in with the law soon enough. If you keep up like this, they’ll lock you away for a very long time.”

  “What the fuck do you care?”

  “I’m here to help you, Charlie. And that’s what I’m going to do.”

  Charlie said nothing. Sam sat there, watching him. Neither of them said a word for a while.

  Then Sam looked at his watch. “The session’s over. You can go now.”

  “That’s it?”

  “Well, it’s just the first visit. It’s just an introduction, that’s all. We’ll do some real work next time.”

  “There won’t be a next time.”

  “You’ll be back. If you don’t come back, you won’t have a chance in hell. You’ll end up in prison or dead. This is your only other choice.”

  “I’ll take my chances,” Charlie said and stood up. Sam stood as well. Charlie hesitated, like he wasn’t sure if Sam would push him back down again.

  “Where’s my knife?” Charlie asked.

  “I’ll hold on to it. You come again, you’ll get it back.”

  “Fuck that.”

  “Good bye, Charlie. We’re through for today. You won’t be needing that knife today.”

  “It’s mine.”

  “So go buy another one. You come in here from now on, you leave any weapons outside. I don’t want that shit in here.”

  Charlie looked around, on the floor, and then shrugged and went to the door. He opened it and turned around. Sam was standing where he had been. He hadn’t moved.

  Charlie scowled and left the room. Sam watched the door close.

  Then he actually jumped up and down. He had never felt so energized in his life.

  This is going to be good, he thought.

  * * *

  “Colleen,” Jeremy said. “This is Viv.”

  Viv removed her hat, and, right away, Colleen noticed something strange about her. A glow. It was similar to the glow that surrounded the killer who had torn off Turney’s head, but instead of filling her with fear, this glow was less threatening. And yet, it was there. It wasn’t like she saw such things every day. In all her life, she had only seen two. First, Turney’s murderer, and now, Viv.

  For a moment, deep in the glow, there was a vision. A pattern. Like strands of ivy entwined upon her brow, and then the pattern was gone. The glow remained, but it was fainter now. Colleen could see Viv’s face clearly. She was very pretty; possibly she’d been a model at one time. With short, blonde hair.

  “Is something wrong?” Viv asked.

  “Colleen,” Jeremy said. “Are you okay?”

  “Sorry,” she said, realizing she had been staring intently. “I thought you looked familiar for a moment.”

  “Hmm,” Viv said. “Sorry. I don’t remember you.”

  “No, it’s my mistake,” Colleen said.

  Viv turned to Jeremy. “Well, nice to meet you and all, but I’ve really got to get some rest. I haven’t slept in days.” She moved past them and down the corridor.

  At the end of the hall, a door closed, almost a slam.

  “I’m so sorry,” Colleen said. “I didn’t mean to stare.”

  “It was kind of an uncomfortable moment,” Jeremy said. “Is something wrong?”

  “No, not really.” Colleen said. “I don’t want to talk about it. You’ll think I’m nuts.”

  “No I won’t,” Jeremy said. “Really. I want you to talk to me.”

  She sat down on a chair in the darkened living room. Very conscious of feeling physically uncomfortable. “Can I please have my clothes?”

  “Of course,” he said, and went out onto the porch. Her clothes were drier, but still a bit damp.

  “Did I have a purse with me?” she asked.

  “You don’t remember?” he said, then, “No, I don’t think so. I can look around. Maybe you left it down by the water.”

  “You don’t have to do that,” she said, but he had already gone outside. The open sliding doors letting the sound and the smells of the ocean in. She could see him from where she sat, moving down the beach.

  What am I doing here? she wondered. How did I get here? But at the same time, she was glad she’d made it here. That she’d met Jeremy. He seemed so nice.

  He came back in, holding her purse. “It’s wet, I’m afraid. It was floating against some rocks.”

  She took it from him. “Thank you.”

  “You’re not serious about wanting to leave, are you?” he asked. “It’s late, and I really wish you’d at least stay here until morning.”

  There was nowhere else she wanted to be. “Okay,” she said. “Thank you.”

  “What were you going to tell me?” he asked. “Before I went to get your purse?”

  “It’s been so horrible,” she said. “I don’t know where to begin.”

  “Start wherever you want. Wherever you can remember.”

  “Okay,” she said. “But I really need to go to the bathroom first.”

  * * *

  “I saw my friend killed right in front of me.”

  She was wearing her clothes now, and she’d found some dry tampons in her purse and had been able to replace the toilet paper. That made her feel a little less self-conscious at least.

  Jeremy was sitting on the sofa, across from her. “Sounds like the kind of thing that would shake you up a bit.”

  “This guy, he grabbed Turney, my friend, and tore him apart right in front of me. Ripped his head right off.” She took a long drag of her cigarette. She could feel her heart beat faster even thinking about what had happened to Turney.

  “I remember reading about something like that in the paper. Some kind of psycho. Sounds almost unbelievable, someone being able to physically do something like that.”

  “After it happened, I just ran and ran. I didn’t want him to grab me next. I just remember running, getting on a bus. It’s all a blur now. But somehow, I ended up here.”

  “It makes sense now,” he said, softly. Then, “Why did you have such a strange reaction to Viv?”

  He said it almost as if he were concerned about the answer. As if he thought it was possible Viv had been involved somehow in the horrors Colleen had endured.

  “The man who killed Turney,” Colleen said. “He had this strange glow around him. I’d never seen anything like it before. And, for a moment, I had a vision. There was something superimposed over his face. Rattlesnakes.”

  Jeremy poured her a glass of red wine, handed her the glass.

  “When I first saw Viv, she had a glow, too. And I saw another vision. But it was different, kind a weird pattern. Viv’s wasn’t threatening. She was more...I don’t know. But the fact that it was similar; it scared me.”

  Jeremy watched her drink.

  “I’m so sorry,” Colleen said. “I didn’t mean to insult her.”

  “I don’t think Viv will even remember,” Jeremy said. “She was tired. I haven’t seen her for days. I think sleep was all she had in mind.”

  “Is she your wife?” Colleen asked. “Maybe I remembered her from one of those magazines. Is she a model?”

  “She modeled for a little while. I don’t think she liked it much,” Jeremy said. “But no, she’s not my wife.”

  “I’m sorry,” Colleen said. “I’m saying all the wrong things.”

  “Not at all,” Jeremy said. “No reason to chastise yourself. You just assumed we were involved. She does live here after all, when she wants to.”

  “So she’s not your girlfriend?” Colleen asked.

  “Not that I haven’t thought about it,” Jeremy said, with a slight smile. “But she won’t have anything to do with me.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Maggie was asleep on the couch when he g
ot home. He had seen it once before, and thought it was odd. This time puzzled him even more.

  She normally got home from work just before he did. Usually, she’d be caught up in a flurry of activity: changing her clothes, getting something to eat, checking the answering machine.

  He walked over to her, softly. There was something on the floor beside her. An empty bottle. He’d kicked it with his foot before he noticed it. He bent down and picked it up. It was a bottle of Macauley Brothers’ bourbon.

  Sam was tempted to shake her awake. But instead, he let her sleep. He put the bottle on top of the coffee table. It would be the first thing she’d see upon waking.

  Then he went into the bedroom to change.

  When he was in more comfortable clothes, he came out. She was still asleep. He was hungry and decided not to disturb her. He was tempted to take her pulse, check her breathing. But he could see her chest moving. She was still alive.

  In order to get in this state, she had to have enough time. Chances are she hadn’t gone to work at all.

  They had an argument once, when his practice started getting successful. He had told her she didn’t need to work anymore. She had insisted that she wanted to, that the life of a housewife would drive her crazy with boredom. In the end, he had given in to her, agreed she should keep her job. He didn’t remember why it was so important to him that she stay at home. Some kind of misguided concept of gender roles. He was finally successful and wanted her to reap the rewards of not having to work anymore. He had worked his whole life, and while it could be a pleasure now, like his session with Charlie today, it could be tedious too. And he’d had enough jobs in the past where he couldn’t wait to leave; he’d just assumed she felt the same about hers.

  The argument hadn’t lasted long. And he’d given in readily enough.

  But now, to see her like this.

  This was a side of her that she’d somehow been able to keep secret. A side of her that disturbed him.

  The last time he’d caught her asleep in the middle of the day, she’d said she was sick. It was plausible enough. He didn’t remember smelling alcohol on her that time, and there hadn’t been an empty bottle on the floor beside her. Now he wondered if this was the start of a regular thing. If he had simply failed to notice the warning signs.