I pressed the unlock button and leaned over to lift the handle and pop open the door. Patrick wasted no time in swinging the door open and stepping inside. I didn’t blame him for wanting to hurry out of the cold, but his eager eyes told me his rushed entrance had nothing to do with the weather.
“I don’t have much time till they find me again,” he said in a low, anxious tone, “but I wanted to give you some information…if you want it.”
I had no idea who he was referring to or what type of information he was talking about, but any information Patrick was willing to give was better than nothing.
I nodded slowly.
“I know you’re worried about your sister Jenny and her husband.” My jaw hit the floor. “I can’t explain right now how I know this, but I have an address. It’s yours if you want it.” He held out a small slip of paper with an address hand-written on it. “If you’re going to go, you need to go now. Just keep in mind…you’re not going to like what you see.”
He peered nervously out my window and then out his own, hesitating as his tone and body language morphed from restless to sorrowful. “I have to go,” he announced, his face still bent away from me as though he were reluctant to look me in the eyes again. When he finally did, his expression was that of a tortured soldier saying goodbye to his wife for a yearlong deployment overseas.
He smiled at me with obvious affection and lifted his hand to tenderly wipe a stray tear from my cheek. “I miss you.” His eyes begged for my forgiveness, though underneath was a heaviness that told him it was impossible. And that he didn’t deserve it even if it was.
I wanted to rush into his embrace and tell him that I forgave him and that everything would be okay. But I didn’t. The logical, cautious part of my brain warned me that I couldn’t trust him. The guilt-ridden, remorseful part told me that if he was serious, I had no right to be happy with him anyway. Instead, I simply smiled in return and whispered, “I miss you too.”
He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply as if he were drinking in the implied grace I had extended to him. When he eventually opened his eyes again, his lips spread into a genuine but guarded smile, looking as though a weight had just been lifted off his strong shoulders but five more remained.
He sighed and shifted in his seat to leave. Grabbing the handle and giving the door a quick shove, he shouted one last thing before stepping into the bleak world outside. “Good luck.”
Magnolia Drive. I matched the number 1200 painted on the curb to the slip of paper I clutched in my shaky hand. Sure enough, Austin’s car was parked in the driveway. The sky had darkened to a dim, blackish-blue hue that got blacker as it fanned outward from the sun, which quickly fled downward like a squirrel rushing to hide in its hole after sensing an impending storm.
There was no turning back now. No imagining away reality. I had asked for the address and it had taken me here. A small house, most likely a two-bedroom from the forties. Judging on the size and the one-car garage, I assumed she probably lived there alone.
Only two windows were lit. A longer one, probably the living room, flickered with the shifting scenes of a television set, and a smaller one on the side of the house was veiled by a curtain. My eyes locked on that curtained window. It must have been the bedroom. Anxiety rose in my chest, causing my heart to thump so loudly I could practically hear and feel myself vibrating in fear.
I was afraid of being caught snooping for one thing, because I had no clue what I would say or do if I actually had to confront him or his girlfriend. Probably something rash and stupid. But I was mostly afraid of what my snooping might uncover. Patrick had said I wasn’t going to like what I found. I wasn’t sure how he knew that, but even without his warning, common sense told me I would need to brace myself for the worst.
I pried open my door and shut it as quietly as I could, not knowing how soundproof the walls and windows of her house were. From the street, a small sliver of light glowed where the dark curtains met but didn’t quite touch in the middle of the window, looking like the yellow iris of an evil cat. If I could just get close enough, I could take a quick peek inside. However, I was seriously hoping that if he was cheating, I would at least not see anything that would scar my memory forever. After all, he was my brother-in-law.
Like James Bond, with all the suspenseful adrenaline but none of the enjoyable thrills, I trekked up the driveway in a hunched-over, spy position. As though that would help conceal me if someone came out the front door or looked out the window.
The closer I got to the window, the more anxious I got, and the more anxious I got, the angrier I became. By the time I reached the side of the house and began slowly scuffling through the partially melted snow, I was practically bursting with nervous energy and boiling with rage. Every time my tennis shoe hit the snow, I cringed in suspense and waited for someone to come rushing out the door and tackle me for prying into something that wasn’t my business.
But it was my business. It was my sister’s business, and how was she going to know about it if someone didn’t find out for her and tell her. I was so furious at Austin for putting me through this agony and for the misery he was going to put my sister through if he really was shacking up with some young tramp.
I had finally reached the window. It was directly to my right, at eye level. As my back pressed against the cold siding of the house, my whole body tingled as if I were being pricked all over with tiny needles. I wanted to run away and pretend I had never even been at the coffee shop earlier, but I knew the needles wouldn’t cease their jabbing until they pierced my skin and drew blood if I didn’t go through with it.
I pivoted my left foot to the window to swing me around in one quick, fluid motion, and my face landed perfectly in front of the sliver of unconcealed window. For a split second all that was visible was a vacant room with a dresser and desk against the wall on the right, and I thought I was in the clear. My anxiety, my frenzied rage, and the painful tingling sensation in my skin all paused as if someone had yanked them out and was suspending them over my head.
When that split second was over, however, they all came smashing back down into me with the force of someone plunging into the water from a sixty-foot cliff dive. In that moment, my eyes detected a pandemonium of black, stormy shadows to my left in a turbulent tangle, hovering mere inches over a bed with random movement under the covers like a baby frantically trying to escape from a womb.
I felt sick. Disgust and repulsion churned in my stomach, and my blood turned into lava, surging through my veins and scorching my skin from the inside out. I immediately jerked my face away from the horrific scene, bent over, and vomited.
Glaring at the steaming puddle that had sunk into the snow, I wished angrily that my stomach would have waited until I crossed back to the path from the door to the driveway so Austin could have stepped in it on his way out. Maybe he could have slipped and fallen and broken something.
In a bitter stupor I drifted back to my car, much less concerned about getting caught now that my snooping was warranted. Besides, I was certain even if I had banged on the front door, it would have taken them five minutes to get decent enough to answer it…if decency was possible for either of them anymore.
I wanted to scream, but I had to at least wait until I got back into my car. All the way down the driveway and into the street, the spark of my fuse sped closer and closer to the attached explosive buried deep within. All my emotion and strength drained down to this one location in expectancy of the eruption. My body went limp as I practically fell into the driver’s seat of my car.
I slammed my door, clutched the steering wheel with my entire upper body, held on for dear life, and yelled at the top of my lungs. The silence that promptly followed seemed to mock me, and my rage boiled more furiously. Fumbling with my keys with frozen fingers and blurry eyes, I eventually twisted the key into the ignition and shoved the gear into drive. I tore out onto the desolate street.
Upon reaching the highway, what little self-control
I had left vanished out the window, and the tears began to fall in a heavy torrent of pain. I slammed my fists repeatedly on my steering wheel and dash as I cried out in anger, punishing them for Austin’s wicked behavior, for the fact that I had to witness his heinous act, and for the horrible task I now had of bearing the news to my sister.
The more I fumed, the foggier my head became and the harder I pressed my foot on the gas pedal until I was barreling down the dark, barren highway. Suddenly, a gush of black water poured from the back seat over my shoulder and into my lap. I barely had time to let out a quick gasp of surprise before it began circling rapidly around my body in a thick spiral, tightening its grip as it climbed up to my face. Within seconds I was smothered, consumed, oppressed, and overcome.
I was so constricted by its solid restraint that I could barely keep my hands on the wheel, yet my foot pressed even more firmly against the gas pedal with the added weight of the shadowy cyclone surrounding me and pinning me down. My car sped to almost ninety miles per hour and jerked dangerously from side to side. I awaited the impending crash that would send me flying out the windshield as my car did fifty summersaults down the road.
The inky black shadow had risen to my neck, whirling around me like rapid flood waters while some of it trickled down my arms toward my already unsteady grip on the steering wheel. The moment it touched my hands, something came over me. I had had enough. My head snapped up indignantly. I glared at the evil blackness binding my arms like fingerless gloves. Amidst my violent emotions and anxious fear, I had abruptly come to the powerful realization that this shadow had no right to manipulate or master me.
Outrage and utter disgust consumed me and pushed my fear aside, prying my right hand away from the steering wheel and propelling it toward my throat. Instinct took over logic. I clutched at something cold and nebulous around my throat and wrenched it away with all my strength. Once the constraint loosened and the weight was removed, the wave of darkness rushed through the passenger side window and melted into the night sky. I gaped at the empty window for a minute before finally comprehending what I had just done.
I had never touched a shadow before in my life, and I had just single-handedly pulled one off of me and forced it to leave. Could I truly have that much power in me? It was too hard to believe. Too good to be true. I reasoned that it probably wasn’t.
I decided to drive straight home first. Or at least as straight as I could possibly manage. My whole body was as weak and shaky as though I had just run a fifty-mile ultra-marathon after being starved for a week.
I had hopes that either my mom or Hanna would take over the dirty job of delivering the grievous news to Jenny. After dealing with the nightmare I had seen through the window, the shadow almost suffocating me in the car, and the shock of my unexpected ability to tear it away with one hand, there was no way I would also be able to handle telling Jenny myself. I walked into my house to find both Hanna and our mom sitting at the dinner table eating spaghetti. The sight of my mother’s shadow lingering behind her and the smell of the garlic and tomato made my nausea rush over me again.
“Hey, where were you?” Hanna asked with a look of growing concern upon seeing my face. “We tried to call to tell you we were starting supper, but you wouldn’t answer your phone.”
As if on cue, my purse vibrated indicating a missed call. I wasn’t surprised I had missed it. I chunked my purse on the couch without checking the phone.
As I walked closer, my expression of anxiety and revulsion became more obvious, and my mom slowly lowered her fork full of spaghetti from her mouth to her plate. “Are you all right, sweetie? You look like you’ve seen a ghost or something.”
I sunk into a chair and stared blankly at the black ceramic plate that had been set for me. It only reminded me of the dark whirlwind over Austin and his girlfriend. I pushed it aside as I closed my eyes and shook my head in an attempt to get rid of the mental image. With my eyes still tightly shut, I somehow croaked out in a dazed, monotone voice the explanation I wished weren’t true.
“Austin is cheating on Jenny.”
They both gasped, but Hanna was the first to speak. “Are you sure? What happened? What did you see?” Her tone was typical Hanna—concerned but cautious, anxious but composed.
Her composure made me feel even more agitated, and it showed in my unintentional sarcasm. “Well, let’s see. I saw Austin heavily flirting with some young employee at Coffee at the Ritz earlier this afternoon, and then I saw his car in front of a house where the people inside were having sex. So I’d say, yeah, I’m sure.” I didn’t mention that I had seen him flirting with her once before because I felt careless for not mentioning it earlier. I also didn’t mention Patrick giving me the girl’s address because I had no idea how to explain that. It didn’t even make sense to me.
My mom started crying and Hanna’s eyes watered.
“I should have said something,” Hanna surprised me by blaming herself for what applied much more to me than to her. “I could tell something was wrong with him on Thursday.”
I was about to confess I had noticed the same thing when our mom’s crying all of a sudden elevated to bawling and she threw her tear-streamed face into her hands.
Hanna and I both whipped our heads to her, but our confusion wasn’t due to her bawling, which was completely warranted. It was the fact that her crying seemed very inward and personal, as if it had nothing to do with Jenny at all.
“Mom?” Hanna asked hesitantly. “Are you okay?”
“No, I’m not okay!” she shouted through her fingers. “I’m a horrible person! I’m no better than Austin’s mistress!”
It pained me to hear and see my mom cry out so bitterly. The only time I had seen her in worse agony was that night when I had caught her in her room, trapped under a heavy shadow and yelling about her ex-boyfriend, Tom. Was that what this was about?
“I was also the other woman! Tom was married!” she choked out and then continued weeping as Hanna and I remained silent for a minute, unsure exactly how to respond.
This was news to Hanna, but not to me. However, even though I knew she had dumped him because she found out he was married, I had no idea of the guilt she had been carrying around with her because of it.
Behind my mother, the shadow that had been inconspicuously leaning against the wall drew closer to her and reached out to shove against her back, forcing her face still buried in her hands to the table.
I was not about to witness a rerun of what happened in her bedroom. I stood up and glared at it. I wasn’t sure if I could reproduce what I did in my car earlier and was certain I didn’t want to attempt it in front of my mom and sister. But somehow the earlier incident gave me courage to at least confront my mother.
“It’s not your fault, Mom. You didn’t know he was married at the time. You can’t blame yourself for this!”
The shadow backed away slightly at either the sound of my voice or the daggers in my eyes, and my mother slowly lifted her head. Once her head was level with mine, I did my best to switch my expression from murderous to sympathetic.
She appeared confused at the fact that I already knew about her ignorance to his marriage while they were together. Luckily, she didn’t question me about that. Shaking off her confusion, she took on self-loathing again instead. “But I was just like that woman with Austin. Tom’s poor wife must have been devastated!”
“Mom, that’s not your fault! He’s a jerk! Leave it at that and move on!” I was yelling at her, and I had never yelled at my mother.
Awkward silence followed as I slowly sat back down. At least I had succeeded in ceasing her crying. She reclined in her chair, looking dumbfounded and stunned.
After a minute or two of silence, my mother put her head back on the table, drained from emotional exhaustion, and Hanna began patting her back reassuringly. I figured it was safe to ask the obvious question. “So who’s going to go tell Jenny?”
Our mother lifted her mascara-stained face and sat up strai
ght, but no one said anything for several seconds.
Finally, a sigh broke from Hanna’s lips as she pushed back her chair and stood up solemnly. “I will.”
Chapter 23
I RAN WITH ALL MY dwindling strength, watching my feet desperately kick at the thick, cold mist that stubbornly clung to my black sneakers. The heavy fog seemed almost the density of water or quicksand. My legs felt achy and weak, threatening to buckle under me at any moment. I didn’t know how much longer I’d be able to keep up the pace of the glowing man to my right, who was for some reason patiently helping me run from something.
I wasn’t sure what that something was, but it was terrifying and I couldn’t stop running. As I ran in terror for my life, his warm arm wrapped around my shoulder, his confidence and hope attempting to seep through me. But my skin rejected it as a hopeless cancer patient rejects medicine.
My legs continued to get weaker and more unsteady, causing my run to resemble a drunk person’s stagger, but the glowing man whose arm still wrapped tightly around me was barely exerting any energy. In fact, his movement beside me was so smooth and effortless it didn’t even seem as though he were running at all.
We were in a giant, empty parking lot. It was night, and the only light source was one tall light pole far away. The bright beacon was as welcome a sight to me as a lighthouse is to a nearly shipwrecked boat. We were running toward it, and as we got nearer and nearer to the light, I sensed a cold and unnervingly dark entity closing in on me from behind.
I badly needed to get to that light pole, but my hope for getting there grew fainter and fainter as the darkness encroached. Even though it wasn’t a smart idea, I had to know what was behind me and how close it was. I turned to look. Immediately, fear seized my heart, and I stumbled.
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