I had done the same thing with Carter. Pushed him into the recesses of my thoughts. I had forgotten him and the future I had envisioned. When I see him, the grief breaks out of its restraints and takes hold of me. This life, the one I have been redeposited into so mercilessly by Sam, was dead to me. I mourned Carter, this world, and now I'm somehow supposed to believe any of this is real. None of it was ever real, not if it could be taken away from me so easily. Seeing Carter is just like finding that photo. It doesn't bring him back to me. It only brings back the pain.
He wraps his arms around me, but I'm not ready for his touch. His arms are long and lithe, not firm and forceful. He smells of his cologne and the sterility of his hospital, not of man and forest and shampoo lingering on damp hair. Carter is the stranger now, but I know that it's wrong to feel that way, so I let him take what he needs.
After I finish another round of questioning, Ridgefield leads us out a backdoor. I haven't seen them, but it's clear the press is beginning to accumulate outside. He gives me a knowing nod, and a gentle reminder that they will call me with progress and that they may have more questions. I thank him, and Carter places me in the passenger seat of his car as if I was fragile as a glass ornament.
The apartment Carter leads me into is unfamiliar. Not in the abstract sense. When I was taken, he was living with his parents, saving up for his own place. It looks like he moved on with that plan.
“I thought, maybe, going back to the house so fast wasn't a good idea,” he says meekly.
“It's nice,” I mutter, eying the stark interior.
“I haven't had much time or need for decorating. I'm always gone anyway. Maybe you can help me with that,” he suggests, his voice tickled by a tense chuckle.
I give him a tight-lipped smile. I thought I was chatty. It seemed so amongst Sam's silence. But now, I have so little to say. I'm used to long stretches of time without a sound, and now voices seem unwelcome, invasive.
“Are you hungry? I can whip you up something to eat.”
I am. Starving. More importantly, I want to give him something to do other than study me, wondering how he can approach me without shattering me into pieces.
“Sure. I'll take anything. I'd like to take a shower though.”
“Of course, of course!” He hastily leads me to the bathroom, leaving me with a towel and instructions on how to get the perfect temperature using the fickle shower knob.
I lock the door behind me. A ritual I suppose. The click reminding me of the heavy latching sound every time Sam left me in my room. A punctuation. Once telling me I was safe, then as time went on, that I was alone.
The police took my hefty bag and left me in a paper gown. I watch myself in the mirror as I pull it off. My hair is so much longer than when I left, my already slender body, thinner. I run my fingers along my belly. There's no outward evidence of what I once held inside of me. And even though it took me a while to accept the idea of him or her, I came to feel like a mother, to feel sadness at what never was. And no one can ever know. Not even Sheriff Ridgefield.
Sam knew I couldn't come back and he let me go anyway. Dropped me into a world that couldn't possibly understand the choices I had made. Changed the shape of me, and then tried to shove me back into a space where I can no longer fit.
I slide into the warm water of the shower. I close my eyes and remember when he first took me in the cabin shower, when without words he showed me I made him weak.
I slide down the cold wall of the shower and sit on the floor. I let the water rain over me and I sob. I'm scared. I don't know how much more I can survive. I embraced him. And he ripped my arms from him and let me fall. He's out there. I know he is. And someday I will find him. I will thrust him from his life the way he took me.
“I'm sorry, I thought I had more in the fridge,” Carter says as I sit down in front of a grilled cheese sandwich, cut diagonally. “It's so late, nothing is open.”
“No, this is great,” I insist. I take a bite and look up. He's just standing up against a wall, staring at me. When he sees me looking back, he snaps out of it.
“I'm sorry, Vesp. I just…I just can't believe you're back.”
“Me neither.”
“You know, I never gave up on you. I mean, I knew logically what the statistics were, but I knew you, too. And you are strong and so good…and…that's why I still got this place. I thought, if you came back, if you wanted, you'd have someplace to live that wasn't that house.”
I stall with a bite from my sandwich. I don't know what to say. I am not strong. I didn't fight hard enough. Or did I? Did I fight so hard to survive that I became someone else?
“Thank you,” I reply.
“And I just want to say I'm sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't protect you. I tried so hard to break that door down. To get to you. And I heard you. I heard what you said. What you did to protect us. I'm so—”
“Don't. Please. Don't do that. You have nothing to apologize for.”
He frowns and nods a few times, holding back his despair.
“So where is my family?” I ask, ready to broach the painful subject.
“Brazil, in the Amazon. I called the resort they're scheduled to go to when they return from their excursion, but they will be out of reach for a few days until then.”
I snicker. “She took Johnny to the Amazon? She's insane. Well, at least this has forced her to spend time with him.”
“Yeah.” Carter's eyes flitter away from mine nervously.
“What?” I demand.
“Listen, this is a lot to come back to. You should just rest up for today, we can catch up tomorrow.”
“Carter, fucking tell me,” I snap.
He takes a deep breath, swallows, and bows his head. “Johnny doesn't live with your mother anymore.”
“What?” I pry indignantly.
“He's in a home for people with disabilities.”
The news knocks the wind out of me like a kick to the chest. I feel sick. Sick that not only was I forgotten, but that he was too.
I shoot up to my feet, staggering to the bedroom.
Carter shuffles from his post against the wall and races to meet me.
“What are you doing, Vesp?” he asks.
“I'm going to get him. He can't be in there. I didn't do all this for him to be shuttled into a home! That selfish bitch!” I cry.
“I don't think that's a good idea.”
“Of course you don't. You never wanted him around. No one did!”
His shoulders sink. “That's not fair, Vesp.”
“I can't let him rot in there. He has a family. He's not a fucking plant. He's a human being who needs love and attention!” I shout, marching past Carter, who shuffles again to block me.
“Vesp, I know the place. He's in a good place. He's getting a lot of attention. He's getting specialized treatment. It's a good place.”
“He needs me,” I insist. “He needs me!”
“What are we going to do? Break him out? You aren't his legal guardian.”
“I'll do what it takes,” I sneer, sidestepping him.
Carter grips my shoulders, I shudder at his touch. It feels like a betrayal to the person who took so much away from me.
“Please, just listen,” Carter pleads. “You just got back and you need to take care of yourself. He's in a safe place, a good place. Soon, you can visit him. But you are in no shape to take care of Johnny. You need to take care of yourself for once. He's been through a lot, too. You can't just waltz into the home and pull him out of there. Do you understand how much that would confuse him? And what about you? You have been gone for almost a year. You haven't even been back a day. You need to focus on yourself. If you care about Johnny, you will leave him there until you know in your heart of hearts you are truly ready to take care of a special kid like him.”
The cold splash of reality smacks me in the face. I don't know how to live anymore. Not without Sam taking all the responsibility away. He dressed me, fed me, entertained me.
He took care of me the way I took care of Johnny. And like Johnny, I am going to have to learn it all over again.
I sob, “I was supposed to save him.” Carter embraces me, and for a fraction of a moment, I recall the warmth of his hugs. “Everything has gone to shit.” I left Johnny just like Sam left me. Maybe it was an act of mercy when Sam released me, just like my decision to pull Sam out of the house, but both had unintended consequences.
Carter holds me up as a rush of tears takes over my body. But I only let the moment last a few seconds, damming the tears back inside, pulling myself out of Carter's grip suddenly.
All this time, I kept thinking I had changed, while somehow everything around me had remained static. But the world doesn't wait for you just because you were kidnapped. Just like woods with those structures Sam and his father built as a child, it just grows over the memory of you.
“I should just stay here,” Carter declares as he puts on his wristwatch. “They'll understand. Hell, maybe I should just take some time off.”
“No,” I protest firmly. “That's ridiculous. You cannot derail your life like that. I appreciate the thought, I do. But I won't let that happen. We can't let this change things.”
“I can't concentrate knowing you're here alone. At least we should wait until your parents return.”
“It's been four days. They'll be back soon enough. I'm just going to sit here all day anyway. There’s a police car watching. If you want things to get back to normal, we have to act like it.” I stand up from my chair and take a few steps closer. I can feel his need. He wants me to touch him, kiss him, but I can't. I'm still not here. “Don't put this on me. I can't be responsible for this. Please, just go back.”
“Okay, well I am going to call you every hour to check in.”
“Fine.”
“Okay,” he says with cautious resolve. I follow him as he heads to the door. He turns to face me and sighs. “Okay,” he says again. “Bye.”
“Bye,” I reply with a wistful smirk.
He's stiff, like invisible arms have bear-hugged him. I can see the tightness of his body, resisting the urge to hug me. I should reach out, tell him it's okay to touch me, but I don't. I can't.
“I'll be fine.”
He nods and leaves.
I wait until his footsteps disappear, and then lock and chain the door. I flip around and press my back against the door, gasping for air. I can finally breathe. It's only been four days, but Carter is suffocating me. I should want that constant attention, but it's not the kind I craved, the kind Sam was able to give. Carter's is cautious, gentle, and awkward. I have to be easy on us, I understand that, but I just need to have room to myself. Not only retreat to the bathroom where I take extra-long showers so I can sob on the floor.
I head for the window and look out to the street. A lone patrol car sits outside. Sheriff said they’d be there for the next week, both at Carter’s and my mother’s house, making sure no one returned. He has to pretend he wants to solve this. I think he’s gambling on Sam being too smart to turn up so quickly. I turn on the TV. There are some daytime soaps on so I turn the dial. My face, it's there. A picture of an unfamiliar girl. I panic and turn the dial again before I can hear a word of what the news has to say about me. I change the dials to the last channel, then back. By then, the news has moved on from my story. But I can't quiet my mind, so I switch it off. I meander throughout the small apartment, touching things as if they were rare artifacts.
I hear a noise in the hallway and I freeze. Is it him?
I run to the door and look through the peephole, a neighbor is entering her apartment. I look down at my arm and see all the baby hairs are raised. I run to the windows and make sure each one is locked, shades drawn.
I jiggle my head as if trying to dispel the contradicting thoughts. I want him still. I hate that I do. I'm scared and yet I want him to come to me.
He is my greatest threat, and so, until I am back on his side, I will feel danger looming. Being with Sam, having him on my team, is the only way I'll feel safe again.
I spend the next hour jumping at every sound and tidying up things that don't need tidying, until restlessness overrides fear. I throw on a shirt of Carter's and a pair of pants he picked up for me from my house. I tuck my hair up and borrow a pair of his sunglasses.
I stare at the door for a minute, contemplating if I should breach this safe zone. It's been four days since I stepped outside that door. I wish I could just go to the lake. It's quiet and open and I'm not trapped between walls.
Stop it, Vesp. You're not going back. Do this. You need to do this.
I grip the knob tentatively, holding it with a tremulous hand.
You can do this. Turn it. Do it.
I close my eyes and bite my lips together, taking a choppy breath. Drawing the jittery energy out of my body. Summoning strength.
The screech of the telephone jolts me back. I'm gasping again, ripped out of the hypnotic calm into which I had lulled myself.
It rings three or four times before I realize I am supposed to answer it. It's my responsibility now that Carter's gone.
“Hello?” I answer.
“It's me,” Carter says.
“Hi.”
“Sorry, I was a little delayed catching up this morning. Is everything, okay? How are you doing?”
“I'm fine. I promise. Just as you left me,” I assure him. “How's your day?”
“Good. Like I said, it's hard to be here knowing you're alone,”
“Like I said, don't worry about me. Okay?”
“Okay. I'll call you in an hour, this time I'll be on schedule.”
“Alright.”
I hang up the phone, now determined to go right out that door, so I can be back in an hour for Carter's next call. I march towards it, my body pushing through doubt as if it were a physical force field. This time, I grip the knob and turn it purposefully.
The phone rings again.
I huff this time, annoyed by Carter's hovering just as I found some hidden courage. I trudge back to the phone and pull it off the receiver.
“Hellooo,” I say in a melodic voice, disguising my annoyance.
There's no response.
“Carter?” I ask.
Breathing. That's all I hear on the other line.
“Carter, is that you?” I ask, convinced there's a bad connection.
The breathing continues, it's so light that I can only hear it because of the dead silence of the home.
My lips tremble as I force out what I can.
“S—Sam?” I ask.
There's a click. But I keep the phone to my face, waiting for something. Anything. Until the phone goes off the hook, blaring that aggressive tone into my ear. I barely slide the phone back on the hook, and plod to the bathroom. I turn the screechy knob until the shower is loud enough to drown out every little sound that scares me, and then I sit on the toilet lid and wait for Carter to return.
“I'm taking you out to dinner,” Carter proclaims as he undresses from his work clothes.
“Oh…I…uh…”
“It's been six days. I don't want to push you, but let's try, huh? The press have given up outside. They think you're somewhere else.”
I think back to how close I was the other day to stepping out on my own. How that mysterious call was like a perfectly timed reminder of the life I had just left behind. It was him. It had to be. All day and night I wonder what he meant. Was it a way to tell me he still thinks of me? Was he taunting me?
Every time the phone rings, I jump. I wait nervously for Carter to answer it, afraid if I take the initiative, I'll give away the secret. But so far, nothing has been out of the ordinary. And I haven't entertained the thought of leaving, thinking he'll call when I'm gone, and I'll miss some sort of chance at closure.
“We'll go somewhere quiet and fast,” Carter insists.
He strips down to his briefs. It strikes me how it's the first time he's disrobed in front of me since I have come back. I
remember what I found attractive about his body: how long he is, how the lines from his abs travel down to his hips like a long-winding road.
“Your mom will be back in a couple of days. I know that's a lot to deal with and I just think it'll be good to remember what it was like to let loose a little.”
I mull it over for a few seconds. “Alright.”
“Great!” he says, losing himself and plopping a kiss on my forehead. I don't mean to, but I stiffen. He pretends not to notice, but I know he does.
“I'm going to take a quick shower,” he announces, walking away with his underwear still on. He gently closes the door behind him and I let out a big sigh, collapsing back onto the bed.
The phone rings.
My breath stops for a moment. I want to run, I want to race to the phone, but Carter could come out to answer himself and I don't want to have to explain my sudden enthusiasm.
It rings again, Carter doesn't open the door, so he must already be in the shower. I walk over in between the third and fourth ring.
“Hello?”
Silence.
“Hello? Is anyone there?” I ask, my throat stuffing with emotion.
“If it's you, please say something.”
A sigh.
“How could you leave me like that? Why did you?” I hiss. “Answer me, please? I know you can say something. After everything, at least give me that.”
Take Me With You Page 29