Nuit Noire

by Carol Robi

  “Was it the only job offer she got?”

  “No. She got a handful or so, probably because the police force wanted to promote her after the tragedy of losing dad. There was an offer to Toronto, and another to Ridgeway as police chief on a small city south of Ontario. But I told her that everywhere I turned reminded me of dad in the nearby towns and cities, for I remember all the places, restaurants and pubs we’d sometimes go together on weekends and sing..” I draw to a stop here, realizing the implication of my words.

  “Even though that particular decision was taken because I suggested it,” I start to argue, “We’d never have moved here if dad hadn’t died.” I point out.

  “No you wouldn’t have.” There’s something about the way he says that sentence that makes me question what he means.

  “I do not like that tone. If you’re supposing in anyway that I had a hand in causing my dad’s death..”

  “I’m not,” he says. “Just because it played out like that does not mean that you willingly orchestrated it..”

  “What do you mean orchestrated it!” I cry out in anger. “A deranged man broke into my house and attempted to murder my family. Dad died trying to stop him..”

  “You could have stopped him,” he says quietly, sounding almost reluctant as he says it.

  “Of course I’d have done everything to try stop him..” And then I remember. I remember how I’d frozen in fear, unable to move forward and help dad. Did I freeze up in fear willingly? No way. I loved my father. I love him.

  “I never.. I froze up. I did not wish to freeze up,” I now cry.

  “I know,” he tells me. “You never meant to stand and watch..”

  “Oh god! I let my father die!” I cry in a whisper, sinking to kneel on the ground, and he sinks to land beside me, his hands falling helplessly on either side of me, looking at me sadly.

  “I’m sorry,” he says again. “I’m sorry because my beckoning you set all these things in motion.”

  “But how could it be that Jason Dunham came to be at our place that day? Did I cause that too?” The fact that he does not rush to fight me on this makes my heart coil even more inside my chest.

  “Most probably,” he finally says.

  “But how? I never had any contact with him. I’d never..”

  “Of course not.”

  “..I’d never lead him to our home. He came because he was angry at mom and wanted to make her pay, because she went on National television and revealed his identity, promising the people that the department would have him in custody soon..” I draw to another stop, and my next words are whispered bitterly.

  “It was me. It was all my fault. I’m the one that told her to accept the chief’s request that she be the face of the Hamilton Police Department during that case, because I agreed with the chief, on the fact that as a mother herself, she will win over the people’s confidence that the police is doing all they can to capture Jason Dunham, the family butcher. I brought the serial killer to our home.” This time I do not cry, for an anger, a hatred for myself settles at the pit of my stomach, and it overshadows any underlying self-pity.

  “I killed my father,” I say again, this time resolutely.

  “No you did not..” Gauthier attempts to say, but I rise to my feet promptly and head out into the dark night, unsure of where I am going.

  I hear him following me, but I am glad that he keeps his distance because I desire to be alone. I attempt to think, to ponder, to tear at myself, but at the moment my mind is blank, a bleak resignation having settled over me, a self-hate so deep rooted that I am unsure I could ever dig out of it again. My guilt is heavy but well deserved.

  I keep walking for the next hour or so until I make it home. As I walk across our driveway, I send a text to my brother to let him know that I’m already home. He must be having too much fun to realize that I am not at the party anymore, for he hasn’t called me yet. I am glad for him. He deserves the fun. I’d robbed him of our father. I deserve to suffer, he deserves the fun.

  My shower is long and the water is burning. I punish myself, scrubbing myself so hard until my skin is puckered, raw and sore. I then shut off the shower, walk into my room and slip into my beddings naked, with my hair still wet, my pillow getting damp a few seconds later.

  I watch him climb in through my window, but do nothing to stop him. I want him to come. I want him to kill me, accidentally or otherwise. It is the fate I deserve.

  He remains quiet as he settles on the narrow bed beside me, lying on his side and arresting my eyes with his burning dark ones that shine at me despite the darkness covering us.

  “It was my fault,” he whispers to me in the darkness. “Not yours, mine. Blame me, not you. I called you to me. I pushed your hand, and hence set to motion the things that..”

  His words are cut off for I suddenly move closer, my lips only inches from his, and exhale deeply into his lips. I feel the immediate tug as the connection is made, the initial surge of desire is mingled with the drowning pain as I feel my energy leave me, my heart struggles to beat against my chest, my lungs constrict and my stomach muscles clench so tight. I hear his gasp even as my body begins spasming, and I welcome the pain, as well as rush my consciousness towards the dark abyss just beyond my mind. I reach out to it just as I feel the connection of our breaths break.

  No! I scream in my mind, fighting my body against taking another breath, but it involuntarily does so as a reflex to survive, and with it I know that my death has evaded me this time.

  My eyes open up to wide blue pupils that glare at me, his warm breath irregular as it fans my face.

  “Don’t you ever do that!” He says in a harsh whisper. “Don’t you ever!”

  “Please kill me,” I tell him, my breathing still laboured. “Get high on me,” I ask him. “Kill me. You know you want to..”

  “No, never!” He says, and with that the blue eyes are gone.

  The breeze from the window left swinging slightly ajar fans cool the warm spot he’d just occupied a second ago before he left.

  Chapter 13

  “What about you, Sophia?”

  “Huh?”

  “You haven’t said much recently. Your mother thinks you’re closing in again. Tell me how you’ve been?” Dr. Young probs.

  “Fine. I’ve been fine,” I lie.

  “No you havent..”

  “Mom,” I call, turning towards my mother. “I’m feeling pushed. You promised me no pushing. Remember..”

  “I know baby. But this time we are worried. We have to push..”

  “Please don’t..”

  “It’s clear that you’re hurting,” Dr. Young says. “Your sleeping charts are worrying, and the number of times your mother has had to refill your prescription these past few weeks has me very worried too..”

  “I don’t deserve your worry..”

  “Honey, how could you say that?” Mom now interjects

  “Because I don’t. It was all my fault. All of it is on me. I encouraged you to stand before the cameras and be the face of the department..

  “Sophia don’t say that..”

  “I did Tony. Do you remember that night? We were seated at the dining table. Dad had made this vegetarian lasagna that you were skeptical of at first, but it tasted so good.” My brother’s eyes are awry as they look back at me.

  “And mom,” I now turn to our mother. “You told us about what your boss had said, but you were a little unsure because you felt that Jason Dunham would feel provoked and attempt to come after us. Then I encouraged you to do it anyway, and insisted that people would feel- safer, with your face a mother and a policewoman promising to keep their families safe..”

  “Honey..”

  “..I told you that the department chief’s order for a squad car to always seat outside our house sounds good enough. I should have known that Jason would have gotten past the police officers..”

  “There was no way you’d have known that, Sophia. I should have known better than..”<
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  “You did know better, mom. That’s why you weren’t up for the idea. I pushed you to take it, and you accepted because you felt it would have made me happy..”

  “That’s ridiculous, Sophia!”

  “Is it, Tony? Is it really? And do you remember that day? Do you remember how I froze up and watched him kill dad without helping him..”

  “You were scared!”

  “I just stood there! I just stood there and watched! I should have done something..” Mom’s arms are now around me, holding me tight, stopping me from lashing out at myself with my nails. Her tight hold, along with Tony’s who throws his arms around both of us, immobilise my movements.

  “It wasn’t your fault..”

  “I’m sorry,” I call repeatedly. “I’m so sorry.”

  I can hear them talking about me downstairs. I don’t hear what they are saying exactly, or maybe its just my paranoia, but I hear the whispering. I hate myself even more after that freakout at Dr. Young’s office, for now they are worried about me.

  I wanted to apologise, not worry them. An apology would never bring dad back, but I want to tell them that I’d never willingly do it. It was something greater than me, a set of actions set to motion that was beyond me. I couldn’t stop it for I had no idea that there was something to stop. The freezing of my muscles as I watched dad die was beyond me. I remember that moment so vividly, as though it were yesterday. It is my clearest of memories. I doubt I’ll ever forget it. I stood there, screamed at the top of my voice for my muscles to move, but they never did. It was beyond me even before it began. I couldn’t fight it if I tried. I lost this war even before I was born.

  He comes to me again tonight, as he has done for each night ever since the party. He lies on his usual spot, the small space on the left end of my bed, lies on his side and watches me.

  “I couldn’t stop him from dying,” I say quietly. Resigned.

  “No, you couldn’t,” he whispers back. “It was my fault for calling you...”

  “Yes,” I tell him. “You are just as much to blame as I am.”

  “I had no idea the unfortunate incidents I’d set to motion by calling you. I shouldn’t have..” I laugh mirthlessly, making him stop his apology. He looks at me bemused.

  “Trust me, I’ve been down that road. I know what you’ll say, and for some reason or another, I believe that you’d never wish to harm me or my family in anyway..”

  “I wouldn’t,” he says quietly.

  “And that’s why I know to believe you when you say you’re sorry.”

  “Oh Sophia! I’m so glad..”

  “Let’s not talk. Please. Just lie here with me.”

  And that’s what he does. He lies there quietly by my side, and though it takes about five hours for my sleep deprived eyelids to finally slide shut, he never once leaves. He never once speaks.

  Chapter 14

  It’s been a quiet set of days, for me at least. I’ve kept up a steady routine- school, cheerleading practice, home, quiet nights spent with Gauthier lying by my side, and weekend games.

  On my free afternoons, I spend them in the garage, where I have set up dad’s music room exactly as it had looked back in Hamilton. His guitar and records’ collection run along the walls. His acoustic guitar that he often played on hangs on the front wall, and standing on the floor below it is the keyboard he’d at times play. I spend my time here learning his songs, playing his acoustic guitar, singing to myself. I find that playing his songs reduces my guilt. It is a form of atonement, my way of telling him that I am very sorry, but that his legacy still lives on through me. I am not a great guitarist, neither am I a great vocalist, but I am good enough to not do too much damage to his songs.

  Most of those afternoons, mom is at work and Tony is out with his friends. When they are home, they come to the garage and listen, smiles on their faces. I can tell that it makes them feel good too to hear dad’s old songs. But when they are out, Gauthier is my audience. He rarely ever says anything, just props himself on an unpacked moving box and stares at me with those intense eyes.

  “You have a beautiful voice,” he says this time when I stop to drink some water.

  “No I don’t,” I tell him. “It’s just above regular.”

  “It sounds very beautiful to me,” he says, walking forward, covering the distance between us quickly.

  “You don’t sound as old as you insinuate you are when you say that. Surely you’ve met better vocalists in your long lifetime,” I mock.

  “None intrigued me as much as you do,” he says, which causes my breath to catch at my throat, and my body temperature to spike, as I struggle to look anywhere but at him.

  “I don’t know what to say to that,” I tell him, suddenly looking up, and once again getting mesmerised by his eyes.

  “That’s because there’s nothing to say,” he breathes, his eyes caressing me. I take in a sharp breath, lick my lips and with that single motion I watch his eyes brighten, burn, and he takes an involuntary step closer, his breathing laboured as though he is fighting to restrain himself.

  “I..” He starts, but he seems unsure of what to say, his eyes focussed on my lips. “I have to go!” He finally says, and before I can stop him, whizzes out of the garage, leaving me staring after the door long after I’ve heard the powerful engine of his sportscar take off.

  I have recovered and I’ve just been practicing one of dad’s spanish songs when I hear a car pull up and laughter, before it takes off again. Soon enough, Tony walks in.

  “Hey, kiddo!” I call out laughing, and he wags a warning finger at me in response.

  “Sophia,” he starts with a reasoning voice. “I am taller than you, weigh more than you do, have more muscle tone than you, more good looking than you are and brighter than you- so that warrants me against you calling me kiddo just because you swam out four minutes before I could. I probably gave you a headstart, being the gentleman that I am.” We laugh long and hard at this.

  “Who was that dropping you off?” I ask much later as I help him make dinner.

  “Mandy,” he says, giving me a look.

  “Are you two..?” He shrugs in answer.

  “Tony!” I rebuke.

  “What?” He asks laughing.

  “She’s such a..”

  “Such a what, dear sis?” He asks amused, looking into my face expectantly to hear what choice of word I’ll use.

  “A fake. Girls like that never love..”

  “I’m not looking for love,” he tells me. “She’s hot, and I’m looking to have fun. Besides, until you finally go on a second date with Gauthier as I have repeatedly told you, I’m not taking any relationship advice from you.” I roll my eyes at him, and remain silent.

  ……………...

  It’s a few days later, and most of the school is at the canteen for the lunch break.

  “I want to go to that hyped up new nightclub downtown..” Jennifer starts.

  “You’d never get in,” Dave tells her. “Not without an ID.”

  “But it’s my birthday!” I hear Jennifer fret from two tables away. I roll my eyes and turn back to my dark rye sandwich, capturing the slice of cucumber just about to fall off from my sandwich between my teeth, when I catch his intense eyes watching my every move.

  I frown at him, but he seems as though in a trance, too focussed on me, on my lips, to notice the reproachful look I’m giving him. People are noticing, for everyone on his table is turning to look between me and him amused. Soon it’s not just his table, for most kids at the canteen are now snickering and giggling in our direction.

  “That guy’s got it bad for you!” Amelia says. I shake my head at her.

  “He’s deluded..” I answer.

  “What guy?” Tony asks, turning in the direction Amelia nods before I can stop her. “Oh hell no!” He exclaims, rising to his feet.

  “Tony wait!” I call. Too late though. I jump off the bench and and run after my brother, but he is faster and has longer strides.


  “Hey, Gauthier!” He calls. The attention of every student in the canteen is focussed on us.

  “Tony don’t..”

  “Do you like my sister?” He asks. Gauthier looks at me amused, and doesn’t turn to Tony who is still standing behind him, staring him down with a look that is more combative than it is friendly. Tony is mad, being a protective brother. I’d find it very cute and laughable, if the whole school’s attention wasn’t focussed on us.

  “Yeah,” Gauthier admits clearly, not once taking his eyes off me, making my face burn hot with embarrassment, as I try and fail to look away. “Yeah, I like her a lot.”

  “Then ask her out dude! It’s the normal thing to do instead of constantly drilling holes into the back of her head with your eyes..”

  “Tony!”

  “Stay out of this, Sophia.” Tony surprises me by saying.

  “I couldn’t stay out of it if I tried, Tony. You’re talking about me..”

  “Okay! Just.. ask her out already man!”

  “Tony, you’re making a scene,” I tell him with a frown.

  “I’m making a scene! You two have been eyeballing each other for far too long. I can’t take it anymore. So as much as it irks me, I need him to just ask you out so that he can stop staring at you all the time,” Tony says. He now turns back to Gauthier. “Get some balls and do it man!”

  “I have sizable balls, thanks,” Gauthier says, making the guys around us laugh out loud. “Go out with me, Sophia,” he adds softly. I shake my head when he says this and start walking back.

  “Sophia, say yes already!”

  “Tony!”

  “I’m going to chant your name, and ask the whole canteen to do the same if you don’t say yes to Gauthier! Poor dude’s eyes might soon pop out from eyeballing you all around the school.” I cannot help but smile a little as our schoolmates laugh at this.

  “Alright! Jeez! Stop making a scene already. I’ll go out with him.”

  “Great,” Jennifer says suddenly, rising from her seat and coming to place her arm around my shoulders, though she doesn’t seem that pleased that so much attention has been taken away from her. “Your first date can be my birthday party tonight, which I plan to celebrate in that club, Nuit Noire.” I start when she speaks the name of the place I dread most in this city.