Ellie
B.B. King’s “There Must Be a Better World Somewhere” is blaring as we walk into Haddock’s on Bay Street. Melissa, the owner of Haddock’s, loves all the blues greats and plays them exclusively, unapologetically.
“Hey Ellie, where’s Tynan?” she asks me, white rag slung over her shoulder. Melissa always looks the same. Black hair cut short, bright red lipstick, knee high boots with fishnets and both arms covered in henna tattoos. It strikes me that she seems more like the type of girl Declan would be attracted to than I am. They’re the same age too: twenty-five.
“He’s coming. This is Declan,” I tell her, pulling him closer to me.
They shake hands and I tell myself to chill out. Yes, she’s cute but so am I. Jealousy is the oldest form of paranoia.
We grab a table near the back where it’s a little quieter. Declan orders a pitcher of Guinness and I begin to relax. It’s been a long day, but there is something in me that refuses to dwell on the drama. I want peace and I’m beginning to realize that it’s always up to me. In any situation I can choose to see a crisis or an opportunity to trust. It’s as if my soul is tired and just doesn’t want to fight anymore. It’s a wise and loving surrender, not a fearful letting go.
“What are you thinking about Ellie?” Declan asks me with a warmth in his eyes I want to wrap myself in.
I reach across the table to grab his hands. “I’m just so thankful that we’ve met. I know I’m still in the fog a bit, but I’m beginning to see the light. We planned all of this, like our souls did, you know? Do you feel that too?”
“You must be right. We must have wanted to be together again. I’m not sure why we did, but I’m happy we did. I can learn so much from you.” He leans over to give me a kiss and smiles. “So when is Tynan coming? I’d really like to get to know him better. I don’t think he likes me too much.” Declan looks away.
I laugh lightly. I can’t tell if he’s looking for reassurance or giving me a warning. “He’s a little protective, that’s all. You don’t have to worry. He’ll love you because I do.”
At that moment Tynan swoops in chest first, his head held high and his hands grasping the strap of his leather messenger bag. He cannot seem to do anything subtly, ever. We exchange hugs and he settles in next to me.
I can feel that Declan is nervous. Tynan is studying him, almost searching for something in his demeanour. As I start talking about the wild dog incident, it’s clear that Tynan is not listening to a word. Completely ignoring me, he turns to Declan.
“So what do you do?” His tone alerts me. This is a loaded question.
“I uh, well I’m not working right now. Actually, I’ve never worked,” he says, observing his hands as they play with his glass.
“You’ve never worked? Wow. Are you rich or something?” asks Tynan with disdain in his voice.
Declan shifts uncomfortably. I can tell he doesn’t want to talk about it. Being in the institution for most of his adult life probably put a cramp in his career plans. I had never considered that he didn’t work and the thought makes me embarrassed. I don’t like feeling that there are things about Declan I’m unaware of it. It’s silly, but it’s how I feel. I want to be the one who knows him better than he knows himself.
“Tynan! There’s more to a person than what they do for a living and how much money they make,” I admonish.
Tynan grins, “So that must mean you’re an artist.”
And I’m thinking: Um, Tynan you know this already. Where is this going?
Declan looks up briefly, not amused. “I am; I guess. I play guitar and I used to draw pretty good,” he says.
“You play guitar, eh? I’m a musician too you know. We should all play together sometime. We’ll throw Ellie a tambourine and turn down her mic; it’ll be amazing,” he jokes, eyes wide with jazz hands.
Declan laughs at this revelation in spite of himself. Tynan loves to mock my musical inability.
“So why do say you used to draw?” He’s turning the conversation serious again.
Declan shifts again in his chair. He appears to be cursing himself for mentioning that he could draw at all. “I haven’t done it in a long time, that’s all. Ellie’s been helping me get back into it.”
Tynan is still looking straight at Declan. It’s obvious I underestimated his resentment. I’m beginning to regret inviting him tonight. “So what did you draw then? And why did you stop?” he asks.
Declan looks from me to Tynan, unclear of what to say. I blink slowly and smile. In my mind I tell him he is safe. “Is there something you really want to ask me, Tynan?” asks Declan trying to remain cool.
Tynan doesn’t skip a beat. He’s calm but intense. “Yes actually. I’d like to know if you really think you’re ready to be with Ellie, because I gotta be honest with you, man. I don’t think you are.”
It’s as if the rest of the room has ceased to exist and these two men are alone, righting wrongs, clearing the air and I’m completely in the dark.
Declan pauses and then raises his stare to meet Tynan’s. “I want to be. I will be,” he replies evenly.
“You will be? What the hell does that mean? You expect her to just wait around while you get your life together? That’s pretty damn selfish if you ask me.” Tynan stops, takes a deep breath and starts again. For a brief moment I feel like maybe there is hope after all. “Listen man, I know what it’s like to be in love. Sometimes you want to keep the other person in your life so much that you’re blind to how wrong it is…how bad it is for them.”
I can feel the fear rising in me, as if I had stored it away in some pocket of my gut and now it had burst free.
“You’re not well, dude. You know you’re not. Is it really a good idea to be pursuing this when you’re still so sick?”
Declan goes white. I look from him to Tynan wishing that all of this could be unsaid and yet also to know what I’m dealing with.
“You can’t look to her to save you. People can’t save other people. You make a decision and you save yourself, period.” He takes a deep breath, apparently considering his next words. “You have to tell her, man. You have to or I will,” says Tynan with a kindness in his voice that had been absent all night.
I decide I have been silent long enough. “What’s going on? Declan, what is he talking about?” I ask, now desperate to know.
Declan closes his eyes as if in pain. He looks as though he’s lost everything in an instant. Glancing at me briefly he then looks down at his lap. “I’ll tell her,” he says quietly. He gets up from the table and offers me his hand. “Not here,” he says in a tone that says there will be no arguing this point. “Let’s go outside.”
Declan
My heart is beating fast and loud in my ears. The reality of my madness is rising to the surface and I feel like I can’t breathe. I take Ellie’s hand and lead her outside, seating her on a park bench just outside. Tynan follows us, arms crossed. I consider telling him to piss off, but I leave him be.
I should have told her.
“I’m listening, Declan. You can tell me anything.” Ellie’s so calm and love seems to just drip from her lips. I want scoop her up and run away. Her eyes are clear and trusting, but I know she’s scared.
I’m in front of her, pacing. Tynan stands beside her like a watchman. I force myself to speak, “Ok. Listen, I didn’t hide this from you because I was afraid. It just didn’t seem necessary and I didn’t want to scare you.”
I move to sit down next to her. I want to hold her hands, but I stop myself. “The night before I met you at the store was a really crappy night. I was low, like epically low. I went walking because being alone with my thoughts was making me crazy.” Pausing, I look up at Tynan but his face reveals nothing. His arms are still crossed. “I walked over to Big Tub Harbour and climbed up to the lighthouse. I thought about…jumping.”
Her hand shoots to her mouth in shock. I keep talking for fear of stopping. “Tynan was leaving the Big Tub Restaurant and he saw me up t
here. He talked me down. He was so calm, it was weird. He didn’t freak out at all. I, on the other hand, was a mess.”
Tynan’s voice is barely above a whisper. “I’ve been there, man. It wouldn’t have helped me to have someone freak out.”
I continue and now I’m talking to Tynan, “As soon as I got down, I ran. I hoped you hadn’t seen my face, but the night we met it was clear you had.” I look down for a moment, squeezing my eyes shut, feeling the shame all over again. “I can only imagine what you both think of me. I’m just…I’m so ashamed.”
“Declan, man, listen. Cut that shit right now. It’s not what you’ve done, but what you’re going to do. Are you going to get help?”
Ellie cocks her head as if to echo his question and it nearly breaks my heart. All I can do is nod.
She brings a hand to my cheek, cradling my heavy head. “We’ve all thought about it, Declan. We’ve all wanted to jump off bridges at one time or another. You came back down. You’re safe.” She sighs and gives me a puzzled look. “Where does all this sadness come from? You seem so guilty, why?”
“I don’t know,” I say and I really don’t. “I wish I did. I wish I felt like I deserved to live, but honestly, Ellie, I don’t. It’s like I carry a weight with me every day and it’s only a matter of time before I’m crushed beneath it.”
“Are you taking your meds? That must help you feel better.”
And then I can’t look her in the eye. I stand up and take a few steps away from her. “They make me a zombie. I can barely feel! I sure as hell wouldn’t be able to feel loving you. That I know for sure. Is that what you want?”
“Dude, you can’t yell at her like that.” Tynan’s voice is firm bordering on ready-to-kick-ass.
“I’m not yelling at her. And what the hell are you still doing here? You got what you wanted. She knows!”
Ellie is biting her lip. “Declan, I want you to feel well.”
“You make me feel well! You do that. Even when I feel I don’t deserve you; you are my medicine!” She starts to say something, but I cut her off. “I already know what you’re going to say. You’ll say that’s not healthy, that you can’t fix me, but Ellie, all I can say is that you’ve given me something to live for. I feel hope when I’m with you. I feel like in the corners of your mind lies my salvation. Whatever it is that you’re seeing when you see, I’m meant to see it too.” I’m talking fast and ignoring Tynan’s presence. As long as she’s here, as long as she’s listening I’ll tell her all. “Do you believe me? I feel like my sickness started before I did…before I, Declan, did. I know it sounds crazy…”
She puts her fingers to my lips to quiet me. I finally breathe a strangled breath. She says, “Let’s regress you, then. I know I could probably do it for you at this point, but I think it’s best if we see Mrs. Dawes in the morning. Does that sound good?” I whisper: yes. She continues, “I love you…beyond time and space. It’s overwhelming at times. I just have to remind myself that we’ve always been together and it’s impossible for us to be apart, no matter what happens. When I believe that, I am at peace. When I remember that, I am happy.”
I grab her. My hands are in her hair, my mouth on hers. Pulling her as close as possible, I hear her gasp. I cannot get enough of her and yet I feel her exhaustion.
No more talking. Tynan can find his way in the dark. I’m taking this girl home.
I clutch her body, encouraging her to lean into me. Her breaths are shallow. I push my guilt aside. Thoughts of her perfection threaten to drag me down low. I grit my teeth and recall that no one is perfect. She hiccups loudly as if to illustrate my silent point and I crack a smile.
I whisper to her that we are almost there.
Walking through the threshold, the house is silent. Frances must be asleep. I ask Ellie if I can carry her up the stairs and she nods weakly, her fatigue now overtaking every cell of her. With each step I hug her closer, taking a moment to kiss her forehead. She makes a little sigh.
At the top of the stairs I turn my head to the right spotting a door with a wooden “E” hung on it. Taking her into the room, I flip the light switch and set her down onto the bed. The comforter is thick and soft. Ellie spreads her arms and grasps pillow corners in each hand. I could stare at her all night, just being close to her could be enough, but I know I have to go.
“I’ll take your boots off, ok?”
Her eyes are softly closed, but she nods with a dreamy smile. “Just take it all off.”
I laugh. She doesn’t. “You’re kidding, right?”
She shakes her head.
“Ellie, I…”
She raises an eyebrow lazily in challenge.
Has she any idea how cruel she is? I’m just supposed to strip her bare and leave? Maybe she thinks she’s giving me a gift, displaying her forgiveness.
I grip the comforter nervously, debating. Her breaths are slowing, deepening. She’s drifting off. I wonder briefly if I should just leave.
And then, as if of their own volition, my hands reach for her feet and unlace her boots: one, and then two. Her wool socks are next, revealing two long feet with a delicate pink polish on her toes. I rub her arches. She sighs. I breathe deep and move over her. Bringing my hands to her waist, I dip my fingers into the top of her tights and tug them down. Her knees are pink and dry. Her legs: pale and smooth.
Her underwear is white cotton. It’s taunting me. I want to remove it with the rest but I don’t. I reach for her sweater and slowly bring it over her head which has now lobbed ungracefully to her shoulder. She’s out.
Her t-shirt is light blue and way too big for her. It’s giving nothing away. I decide to leave it, but reason that she’ll be much more comfortable without her bra. My hands reach up and underneath her, grasping for the clasps. Nothing. I have to peek. The clasp is there at the front, hiding beneath a cream-coloured ribbon. With great care and more time than the task probably requires I allow her bra to fall open. I glimpse her breasts: soft, round and perfect and then remove the garment completely.
Ellie curls up, her knees rising to her tummy as her arms and hands clutch her pillow. I bring the blanket over her and press my lips to her hair.
Shaking with a broad and bottomless longing that is doomed to go unsatisfied; I get up and leave her. Turning her light off, I trod down the stairs quietly, shutting the door behind me and walking once again into the cold, dark night.
CHAPTER 28
Ellie
I awake to Frances smoothing my hair out of my eyes. Her face is relaxed, the edges of her blurred as if surrounded by warmth and love. It could be the sleep in my eyes.
“Morning, baby,” she coos. “Declan is downstairs. He says you’re going to see Mrs. Dawes.”
I stretch out and yawn loudly. “Yeah, he wants to be regressed.”
She leans back slightly, almost disappointed. “Does he? I see. And how is Mrs. Dawes?”
I raise an eyebrow at her. “Still not a fan, eh?”
She shakes her head. “It’s not that, it’s just…I wanted to be the one to help you through all of that, you know?” I nod at her and put my hand in hers with a clap. “And what about Jack, how’s he doing?”
I laugh, “He is as he ever was mother, as he ever was.”
She smiles wistfully, a look in her eyes that I haven’t seen in a while. “Good.” She smacks my leg. “Now, get dressed! He’s waiting.”
Of course Mrs. Dawes knew we would be there. She even had some warm apple cider waiting for us. Taking the place I normally am Declan lays down on the couch a little unsure of himself. Mrs. Dawes kindly explains the process and it’s clear it will take a little longer to calm his mind enough for him to accept. She leads him through a lengthy guided meditation and he begins to be soothed. Counting backwards from ten she leads him back into the nether-regions of thought. His eyes are fluttering gently as she asks him where he is.
“I’m wearing a linen shirt and weird, tight pants. I think they’re called breeches. I’m drinking…a lot,�
�� he says and his body tenses.
“Ok, I’m going to ask you to rise out of that body and watch the scene from above. Can you do that?” asks Mrs. Dawes, softly. He gives an almost imperceptible nod and then visibly relaxes. It’s on…
William
William downed another gulp of Isla whisky. He stopped appreciating the fineness of the spirit three glasses ago. It was doing its job of numbing the pain nicely. He had wanted to escape to the inn, but the weather was poor to say the least. He ended up in his room. All that was certain was that he had to get away from her and she would not dare to look for him here. His head hurt, but it was nothing compared to the pit of despair in his stomach. How could he have raised his voice at her?
It was like exquisite torture to be in the same house as Louisa. He desired her almost as much as he loved her, but he could not have her. It had been so long since William had been with a woman and the drink wasn’t helping.
He stood and began to pace the room. How did it happen? He went to her room with the notion of gauging her feelings about him and left with declaring he would never marry. He was a fool. He had ruined any prospects of sharing his life with hers. Furthermore, after his brutish display, it was doubtful she would allow him to stay in the house any longer. Yes, he would have to pack up in the morning and leave. John Sinclair had a shack at the back of his house where he made whisky. Perhaps he would let him sleep there. He deserved little more than a shack.
Slugging back another drink, his mind grew fuzzy and his sadness rose. He would miss her. Would he still see her from time to time in the village or would she take Janey and go home earlier because of him? That is most likely what she would do. How could she stand to see him after the spectacle he made of himself? Louisa was far too kind to make him feel badly, but he was certain she disliked him now. It would be too painful to face her and have her pretend she still cared for him. William decided it would be best if he avoided her.
He sat back down and cradled his head in his hands. Could he see her one last time? Surely she was asleep by now; it was after midnight. Could he not just look in on her? She would never have to know.
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