Sing A Twist

by Brooke T. Mays

  As she walked to her car, she held on to the emotions. She felt rejuvenated. When someone passed her in the parking lot, she Projected out just a little. It made her feel good to share. Plus, it also helped ease her mind. When she resorted to tricks like this, she kind of felt like a junkie. But tonight she would cut herself a break. Because tonight she would think through all that she had avoided today. She needed a sounding board. She needed Monica.

  Elena sat in her car at a local Sonic. She ate her junk food and talked to Monica on the phone. It was late and Monica was already in bed. After answering the phone, she could hear Monica moving around and then two doors opening and closing, one after the other. She must have left Jacob’s bed.

  “I was about ready to call the police. Where have you been hiding? You ready to tell me everything? I’ve waited as long as I can. The roommate agreement is about to get trashed!”

  “You helped me make that agreement. You would never trash it.” Then she had to quickly amend. “Unless you thought I was in danger. Which I am not. Yes, I need to talk to you now.” She started with the guitar picks. How excited she had been about them. How she went to the bar hoping to give them to Phillip. Then, having to rush off to the community center. When she came to the part about Evenfall, she had to choose her words very carefully. Monica erupted when Elena mentioned the police. Elena stalled her by rushing on. “Wait. That’s not the worst part. When I came home, Phillip accused me of leaving the bar with some other guy. And he had my picks. He said they were from Samantha! Monica, none of this makes sense. What happened to the laid back guy we have known for the past year? And why would some girl I’ve never met take my picks? How did she even get them?”

  “I do know something about the picks because Jacob was there when Phillip got them. He said Samantha handed Phillip some picks saying something like, ‘These must be yours.’ Phillip said they weren’t, but she told him to keep them. Elena, someone obviously went through your bag. Take your damn backpack to the bathroom!”

  “I know. I should have. That was stupid of me. But the only people there were Nathaniel and some delivery guy. I wasn’t gone that long. And it still doesn’t make sense. Why would someone go through my things and take my stuff only to leave it at the bar? I could understand why they would steal a small wrapped box if they were looking for things to sell. Maybe it could have been something valuable. But why then leave the phone and not try to sell it or use it?” Although she tried, Elena was unable to keep the hurt out of her voice in her next statement. “Plus, Phillip should have recognized the wrapping. It was the same as my parent’s. Do you know if Phillip unwrapped them or had someone already done that?”

  Monica sighed. “I don’t know. I could ask Jacob. It doesn’t sound like they were wrapped from what Jacob said. But don’t you think you should just ask Phillip yourself? You sound like you still want him. Some guy threatens you and cuts himself up and you tell me that’s not the worst part of your night.” Elena refrained from arguing about Evenfall threatening her. Another loud sigh from Monica. “Elena, a big part of me wants to tell you to cut your losses and run. Let Phillip finish out his lease, and then he moves out of the house and your life. But to answer your question earlier, no, this does not seem like Phillip at all. He never struck me as the jealous type. I don’t know.” She paused a bit, thinking, then added, “We’ve also never seen him with a girl. We have only heard second hand of his one night stands.”

  That was not a detail Elena liked to dwell on. Glumly she asked, “What does the small part of you want to tell me?”

  Monica was honest as always even if her tone suggested she would rather keep her opinion to herself this time. “That Phillip seems even more upset than you are. He seemed so angry one second. The next he just stood there looking at the picks in his hand calling himself a cuillon, an idiot, and some other Cajun words I didn’t understand. For a minute, I thought he was going to sleep at your doorway, like some lost puppy. He seemed to snap back to the Phillip we know and love, but still, who knew he had such a temper?”

  “I won’t ignore that or sweep it under the rug. I promise. I still need to figure some other things out, though. What does Jacob say about Nathaniel? He is the most likely person to have gone through my backpack.” Elena was trying not to be paranoid, but it certainly seemed to her that someone had tried to sabotage her and Phillip’s relationship. The obvious person was Nathaniel. The right place and time and all, but why? And how was Samantha involved? Her knee jerk reaction seeing Phillip with them and hearing him say Samantha gave them to him, had been one of jealousy. Elena felt as if Samantha had stolen her gift and presented it as her own. If what Jacob had said was true, she was glad she had not embarrassed herself and verbalized that conclusion. Still, maybe she shouldn’t discount Samantha’s involvement. She wasn’t going to ignore something right in front of her face like some actress in a B horror show.

  Elena had to quickly catch up to Monica’s conversation. “He talks up the guy a lot. I have accused him of having a bro-mance with him more than once. The one time I briefly met him he seemed . . . charismatic. Elena, I want to know answers, too, but let’s not get confused here. You are not Sherlock Holmes or Scoob and the gang. We aren’t going to go finding clues. I think we should just confront him. Samantha too.”

  Elena smiled at the ‘we’ in that last remark. It was good to not feel alone right now. “I like the visual I have running through my head right now.”

  Monica laughed. “Are you and I at the bar kicking ass and taking names? That’s what I have in mine.”

  “Yep.” Elena laughed, too, and it felt good. She was ready to go home. Just not quite ready to face Phillip. Gathering her courage, she asked Monica if he was home.

  “He’s asleep. He has been moping around the house. You’re the psych major, but I think you put him into a major depression. Not that he doesn’t deserve that and more for a while. I haven’t even heard him play or sing since you two had your fight. And the only person who slept more yesterday was you. Hurry home. I’m going to wait up for you.” Elena promised she would as she hung up the phone.

  On her drive home she thought about what Monica had last told her regarding Phillip. That was twice now. He gets out of character angry and then sleeps. There were some run of the mill psych reasons why this might happen. Catching up on sleep was also not too unusual for any college student, either. Still, there were other reasons she knew of that would also cause that. Right in front of her face. She would not be the horror show actress.

  Chapter 11

  The next morning Elena was in the kitchen making omelets. She was getting creative and throwing about all the leftovers that were safe to eat into them. She needed to get back to the grocery store. Her bracelet clattered down her wrist and she shook it back up again as she flipped another omelet over with one hand and took a drink of her coffee with the other. The coffee smell along with the cooking of the eggs had her feeling very peaceful. Still sleepy though, she was ready for the caffeine to kick in.

  Gold color filled the room, but it was tinged with a dull red color. Sorrow. Or remorse. Possibly regret. Phillip had joined her in the kitchen.

  “You came to the bar to give me the guitar picks.” He stated it, not asked. And then he waited.

  She kept her back to him, pretending to fuss with the omelets. “I’m not quite ready to talk about this, Phillip. Soon, but not yet.”

  A shot of silver streaked through the gold. Hope. All strong emotions for her to be feeling them through both the necklace and the bracelet.

  “You have all the time you need. And a hand with breakfast. I’ll get the butter and jelly out of the icebox.” Reaching in to the refrigerator, he did just that then began to gather plates and glasses while Elena tried not to be charmed by his Cajun colloquialism. She could hear him pop bread into the toaster. He worked quietly and although he often moved close to her, he did not touch her and she did not look at him. She stayed with her omelets, hiding a little. By
the time the table was set, Monica and Jacob were making their way down the stairs.

  There was a moment of tension. This was the first time Elena had been with everyone since the fight. Phillip spoke first. “I haven’t apologized to Elena. I am goan to give her the space she wants, but I am apologizing to both of you. I was out of line the other night. Raisin’ my voice and losing my temper. I woan make an excuse. It was wrong of me.”

  “Happens to the best of us, bro. We’re good.” Jacob smiled at Phillip and winked at Elena. It made her feel a little less embarrassed. Even Monica seemed a little impressed mumbling at him to not let it happen again. They finished breakfast talking about everything and nothing. Although Elena stayed quiet, she was smiling.

  She passed her time that day mostly doing laundry. Her time hiding out at the library had her ahead in her studies for her upcoming tests. She wasn’t going to be volunteering on the hotline for a while, so she really had some extra time on her hands. Upstairs, she could hear Phillip playing her song. He had been playing it often today. Jacob had commented about Phillip finally playing again but being stuck on one song. He really did appear to be waiting for her to approach him.

  Phillip watched Elena as much as he felt he could get away with. He would wait for her if it killed him. It just might. He wondered when she would run out of dirty clothes. She came down the stairs and through the living room with a wad of towels in her arms. Now she was doing the rest of the house’s laundry? She smiled at him, but she was blushing. She must be embarrassed at getting busted creating busy work with the laundry. Maybe he should go back upstairs. He told her he would give her time. Maybe he was pressuring her right now. He stood up to make himself scarce when he heard her phone ring. It was sitting on the end table beside him, so he handed it to her.

  She smiled at him and took the phone. He was caught up in that smile and not really listening to the conversation. Then Phillip watched as Elena’s face went white. “Evenfall? How did you get this number?” He heard her say into the phone. “I can tell that you are afraid. Evenfall, did you leave-” She must have been cut off. Phillip took her by the arm and guided her to the couch. She sat down but moved her arm away from him and was totally absorbed in the phone call. That felt like a rejection. He reined in his pride and reminded himself that he was waiting for her to approach him. Elena was listening with her eyes closed now. She looked like she was concentrating. “Evenfall, can you tell me where you are? I can come to you.” To hell she was. Not without him. Evenfall was a name? He would really like to know what the hell was happening.

  Elena began fumbling at her wrist. She was trying to take off her bracelet. He moved to help her. Whatever, if it made her happy and gave him something to do other than play twenty questions in his own head, he’d take off her bracelet. He never got a chance though. As he reached for her wrist, he heard a scream come from the phone. Elena jumped up and pulled the phone away from her ear. She was wincing in pain. What asshole was calling her and screaming in her ear? She was still so pale. The dial tone could be heard. The call had disconnected. She looked at the phone, and Phillip realized she was afraid. If she was in trouble he would help her even if she was still pissed at him. He was her friend first. The rest of their issues could wait. “Elena, what is it?”

  She looked up at him and then began punching buttons on her phone as she said, “Someone I know is in trouble. I have to help him. Do you recognize this number? Know where it’s from or anything?”

  Phillip picked up the house phone. “I’ll call it from here. Who’s in trouble?” he asked as he dialed the number.

  “It’s someone I helped at the hotline before I got put on probation.” She got put on what? What had happened over the last couple of days? “It’s a long story. Please just help me with this, and I will explain when I can.”

  “The number went straight to voice mail. One of those messages that just repeats the number back at you and tells you it’s not available. Elena you look like you’re goan to pass out. Sit down. What is happening here?” He was relieved when she sank back onto the couch.

  “Phillip this is bad. If I knew where he was . . . Phillip, I have to call the police.” He handed her the house phone and assured her he would stay with her.

  He watched Elena dial 911 and listened as she spoke into the phone. Phillip did not like the story that was unfolding. “I received a phone call tonight from an individual that I was speaking with two nights ago while volunteering at the Rosewood Community Center Hotline. I do not know his real name. An ambulance was called to the scene because he had cut himself and he was taken to a hospital, I assume. Police officers were also involved.” A pause. “No, ma’am. Tonight he called my cell phone number and he is in trouble. I don’t know where he is, but I think he is in danger.” Another pause, this one longer. “Yes, he was very afraid. All I have is the phone number that he called me from.” Phillip couldn’t believe all this had happened in Elena’s life, and he had been clueless about it. He was angry, but mostly with himself. This was serious. And he had not been there for her. He listened to her answer more questions and realized all this happened the night he had fought with her. He wanted to spend some time kicking his own ass. It wasn’t just that he wasn’t there for her. No, more like he somehow found a way to make her night worse. But that ass kicking would have to wait. He wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.

  Elena was continuing on with her conversation and her eyes were starting to glisten. “No, I don’t know anything more about the situation, but I am certain that he is in danger. I think the danger is from someone else this time. He screamed as we were disconnected. But even if I am wrong about that, he is a danger to himself.” He waited while she continued answering questions. No, she didn’t know the officers name that had interviewed her that night. No, she had not given him her cell phone number. She was absolutely certain he was not prank calling her. Finally, the conversation ended.

  He waited while Elena sat staring off into space. He saw her swallow hard and take a deep breath. When she faced him, she had put on an expressionless mask. “Doan do that, Elena. You doan have to pretend you doan feel anything. I just sat here with you and heard this tragic story. At least part of it. I doan know what all happened. But, Elena, you doan have to be so strong all the time. So controlled. Not with me. You doan have to handle this alone. If you’ll let me-” He grunted as she launched herself into his lap. Well, damn, he hadn’t meant to make her cry. “Elena, explain this to me.” He sounded like a whiney school boy. Her tears were making him a bit desperate.

  “I don’t want to talk.” She mumbled into his chest.

  “Alright, then doan. Sit here with me. Until you’re ready.” He stroked her back and hair while she cried somewhere between his shoulder and chest. He had been a jerk to her. He really couldn’t make any demands on her. Except. . . Elena kept so much from him. She was so guarded. He wanted her trust. Until this week he felt he deserved it. He loved her. But he had hurt her. Maybe he couldn’t blame her now for holding out on him, but she really hadn’t trusted him before that. And so the circle went.

  Man, did he have it bad. He knew he had missed holding her, being with her, but this? As he sat there thinking over everything, having his own little inner chat, he couldn’t help but feel happy. Happy. While she cried. But she was crying in his arms. She hadn’t run. He’d turn this around. He waited a little longer for her tears to continue to slow and then, finally, to stop.

  “My Grandpere used to tell me a story. ‘Bout a gator that lived in the swamp. Been there a hundred years if he’d been there a day, he would say. Have I told you this?” She shook her head no against his chest. He continued on is his best imitation of his Grandpere. “But, Grandpere, I used to say, how you know it’s the same gator? ‘Cause, petit chanson, he only use one eye. What you mean, Grandpere, why he only use one eye? He doan got two? Then my Grandpere would answer ‘He only need one, you see. He keeps it on his prize. He never miss his meal.’” He paused a
second, smiling at the precious memory. “About this time, I was usually in his lap hanging on every word. His voice would get slow and scary as he went on. ‘No he waits, and he waits. He keeps his one eye on his meal. Maybe the bird on the edge of the swamp. Maybe the gar swimmin’ by in the water.’ Grandpere would draw the moment out, and when I couldn’t wait another second he would say ‘Then when the time is right, he grabs it!’ and he would grab me and make me jump. He always followed the story up with, ‘I learned from that gator. How you think I got your Grandmere?’ I would always laugh and say somethin’ like ‘you didn’t eat Grandmere!’” Phillip slipped back in to his impersonation of his grandpere, slowly drawing out the words, “’No, mon petit chanson, you not learn from the gator. You gotta wait. And keep your eye on the prize. It always worth it in the end.’ When I got a little older I finally figure out he would tell me that story every time I was running around like a little hellion. He’s right, though, I’ve learned patience from the gator.” He felt Elena shift in his lap.