by Kris Calvert
I took her hand and gave it a loving pat. “I thought George was pretty special too.”
I turned to walk back to my car and looked up to see the sun peeking through the black clouds and smiled, thinking George was looking down on all of us.
My stomach growled as I began to drive out of the cemetery and I thought about where to get something to eat, knowing my kitchen was still bare. I stopped at the end of the lane that branched through the cemetery and looked both ways as if anyone might be driving through at a fast speed. A beautiful arrangement of red roses caught my eye and I thought of my own living room, still covered in them from David. I paused and squinted my eyes to make out the name on the headstone. Thornbury.
Turning the opposite direction I needed to leave Oak Lawn, I drove to the grave of David’s mother. Turning off the car, I took off the heels that were starting to hurt my feet and placed them in the seat next to me.
I padded in my bare feet across the paved road and to the headstone where a huge display of roses was draped across the top of the oversized memorial and red rose petals covered the grass surrounding it. I saw her name and stopped in my tracks.
“Rachael Love Thornbury,” I said aloud. “Rachael…it couldn’t be.”
Touching the side of the cold stone, I closed my eyes and took a respectful moment as I thought about my conversation with Aunt Sally. As the wind kicked up again, I turned and tiptoed through the grass in my bare feet giving the grave a quick glance over my shoulder. I felt a strong breeze in my hair and a feeling of otherness as I climbed into my car and shut the door. It wasn’t the usual strong feeling of Spirit, but something else. Something new.
I watched the wind gust in and pull the rose petals into the air in a whirlwind from the quiet solitude of my car. I took a deep breath and felt a call in my heart. The longing to see Mike grew to an alarming urge.
I drove through Barlow and to the park as fast as I could without speeding. Constantly checking the sky, I didn’t want to get caught in a torrential downpour while wearing my grandmother’s sweaters.
I parked my car and before locking it rummaged through my box of knick-knacks in the back seat, hoping the crappy half-dead umbrella I used was there. I wasn’t disappointed. I locked up, hoping that if Mike wasn’t at my tree that he’d left me a note or at the very least found mine.
Still without shoes I hurried to the old oak thinking only of Mike and nothing else. As I got closer I could feel him waiting for me and as I made the turn and the tree came into full view, there he was. The warm feeling I was now addicted to overcame my entire body.
I picked up my pace, trying to walk as quickly as I could without running. When he turned his face to me I couldn’t wait any longer. I ran without thinking—without caring.
Almost on top of him I stopped short, facing him shoulder-to-shoulder, eye-to-eye. I wanted to yell at him for not being here yesterday. He stared through me with his blue eyes—no emotion, only pure and raw energy. I threw myself into his arms. For the briefest of moments Mike didn’t hug me back, but slowly he encompassed my trembling body and I began to sob as soon as I felt his touch.
I said nothing, but found comfort in his warmth and breath that whispered on my neck. “Where’ve you been?” I asked, my words muffled by his barreled chest. “You left me. I didn’t know if you were coming back.”
“I think the question is where have you been?” His voice was deep and soothing. I wanted to crawl inside him and never leave.
“Am I crazy? Are you real? I don’t know anymore. When I’m with you it feels more authentic than any other feeling I’ve ever had. And when you’re away–”
He stared at me, saying nothing.
“I question whether it’s real or not.”
“I’m as real as I can be.” He whispered the words into my ear and I melted into his arms, never wanting to move from that exact spot.
“Why weren’t you here yesterday? I thought you’d be here.” I pulled away and stared into his blue eyes, and just as easily as I was upset about not seeing him the feeling quickly faded. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t care. You’re here now.”
“Where’ve you been, Indie?”
“My patient passed a few days ago and today was his funeral. I’ve been at the gravesite.”
Mike nodded, and yet his stoic face seemed even more concerned. “And before that?”
“I had to meet with my employer. I’m starting a new job tomorrow.”
“I know.” Mike looked at me and then away as if he was calming his own temper as a flash of lightning crashed above and I jumped back into his arms, looking for safety.
“We have to get out of here. It’s going to pour. I have on my Grandma Indie’s sweaters and I don’t want to get them wet. Not to mention we’re going to get struck by lightning. C’mon,” I said as I took him by the hand and felt the warm and loving charge through my body. “I’ll take you home or you can come home with me.”
“No.”
Another clap of thunder filled the air. “You come to me.” Mike spoke calmly as he released my hand and the storm kicked up overhead.
I looked up as the skies darkened quickly and I knew I might not make it back to my car. “I don’t know where to find you, Mike.”
“Ma’am!” A voice shouted over the roaring wind and booming thunder. I turned to find a maintenance worker from the park dressed in all green, waving frantically.
“What?” I called to him.
“Ma’am, you need to get out from under the tree and take shelter!” His voice carried across the lawn in an echo and I turned to Mike.
“Ma’am! Did you hear me? You can’t stay out here all alone!”
“I don’t–” I stopped, stepping away from Mike in a panic. “This isn’t real, is it? This is all in my head.”
“No.”
“Then tell me where, Mike. Where?”
“Hey lady, I don’t know what you’re doing over there but you need to seek shelter. There’s a tornado warning!”
The thunder crashed overhead and I was uncertain to where the lightning was striking. Mike stared at me but said nothing. “Where?” I shouted at him as I felt the first drop of rain hit my face. “I can feel the rain and I know that’s real. But what if you’re just in my head? Something I’ve made up to make myself feel better about everything I’ve seen—everything I know about the world.”
“Lady! I’m not staying out here and dying because you don’t want to listen to the warnings!”
The emergency sirens began to wail, signaling a tornado was in the area. I stared at Mike; still he said nothing. His blue eyes were sullen and I had an overwhelming feeling of sorrow. I wanted answers and I stood my ground as I looked deeply into his eyes. I stepped away, suddenly frightened. I saw fire, heard screams and voices saying things in a language I’d never heard. In his eyes I saw chaos.
“No! You aren’t going to do this to me. I’m not…I don’t –” I paused as I backed away from him and the wind blustered around me. “Stay away from me!”
I turned and ran as fast as I could without looking back. The wind seemed to carry me and as the sky lit up over my head I heard the roll of thunder quickly on its heels. Tripping over my own feet, I fell to the ground catching myself with my hands, tearing a hole in my black pants. I stayed on the ground long enough to shake off the fall as I felt a drop of freezing-cold water on my hand. Getting to my feet, I began to run again but found that my knee was aching from the impact.
I rushed to the car, unlocking it as I approached and slammed the door just as the rain unleashed in a downpour. Completely winded, I laid my head on the steering wheel and tried to control my ragged breathing. It wasn’t working.
Another flash of lightning and roll of thunder crashed as my car shook. I screamed as I beat the leather steering wheel with my fists in anger. “Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!”
I broke into hysterical crying and every feeling I’d bottled up in the last few years came spilling out all at once. �
��Why is this happening?” I screamed as the burn in my throat overcame me and I choked on my own tears and spit. The harder I cried, the stronger the storm became and with each clap of thunder I sobbed, knowing I no longer knew what was real and what was my fantasy.
I pulled into the driveway, the storm still raging overhead. I’d calmed myself enough to drive home, but as I began to gather my things from the car I realized I didn’t remember the trip. Things seemed more confusing than ever before.
I waited in my car for a couple of minutes as the rain subsided for a brief moment and took inventory of the limbs that had fallen in my front yard. My white picket fence that was in need of minor fixes was now in need of major repair. As the rain took a temporary hiatus I made a run for the house, limping with my bag full of work and my box full of stuff.
Pushing my way through the front door I found a set of Louis Vuitton luggage stacked neatly against the wall. “Jonathan,” I muttered under my breath as I set my messenger bag and the box filled with assorted CDs, pens, takeout menus, a matchbook from a local restaurant, one stray earring and my envelope from George.
I sat on the couch in a heap and cried. I was beaten, bleeding and going crazy. I’d finally cracked. Maybe I did need a shot of Thorazine. I knew for a fact I needed a Valium. I pulled myself from the couch and walked into the bedroom, taking off my clothes as I went. I dropped my now useless and tattered black pants to the floor and pulled my grandmother’s sweater off my shoulders and carefully laid it on the bed. I touched the delicate softness of the cashmere and wished I could see her just one more time.
I turned on the light in the bathroom and went to the medicine cabinet looking for at least one Valium or Klonopin prescribed for me after Jacob’s suicide. I dug through the cabinet, knocking it all into the sink below. I had everything…everything. Band-Aids, antacids, Neosporin–you name it. Just when I’d given up hope, I saw it. Klonopin—better known to me as the magic pill. It was in the sink with the Advil and Tums. I pushed down on the childproof cap, unlocking the relief that lay within.
There were two tablets left. I didn’t want to use them all at one time. If I called Dr. Nabi for more he would only think that something was up—because it was. I broke the tablet in half and tossed it in my mouth, washing it down with a handful of water, splashing everything lying in the sink.
I didn’t bother to clean up my mess. Instead, I walked to the bathtub and ran the hot water. I wanted to soak away everything that had just happened.
The water roared into the old tub and I pushed the stopper in and took off my bra and panties. The storm continued to rage outside and I winced each time a limb banged on the window.
I grabbed two candles from the shelf in the linen closet and lit them both. As the water filled the tub I searched my bag for my blue notebook. I wanted to journal my meeting with Mike to try and make sense of it all.
I lit the candles and sat them in the floor as I climbed into the piping hot water. I pulled my hair up into a messy bun on the top of my head and leaned into the warmth. Picking the notebook up off the floor I wrote under my notes from earlier in the day.
Mike will not confirm or deny he is real, but it seems as if I’m the only one who can see him. In his eyes I saw war. I’ve seen souls cross over, but I’ve never seen a soul in someone’s eyes. Did this happen? Also—note to me: read George’s note again.
Lightning flashed outside the window and the storm raged. “Am I crazy?” I asked aloud.
I sat back, resting my head against the back of the tub as the water reached its maximum level without sloshing into the floor. I turned off the handles with my foot and took a good look at my skinned kneecap. The sting of the fresh skin kept me from falling into a medically induced state of relaxation too quickly.
With one clap of lightning it happened. The lights flickered once and went out completely. I was alone in the dark—soaking in the tub my twin brother had killed himself in.
“Dear God…” I began as the tears welled up in my eyes. “Why is this happening to me?”
FIFTEEN
A knock at the door startled me and I jumped from the water and grabbed my robe and one candle. I couldn’t remember if I’d locked the door when I came in. I was too insane with anxiety. Wrapping the white terry around my body I shouted into the living room, “Who’s there?”
The knocking came again at the front door. “I said, who’s there?”
“Indie, it’s me.”
“Who’s me?” I asked, my voice trembling from the drugs and adrenaline.
“It’s David, Indie. Are you okay?”
“David?” I said to myself, half expecting an answer back.
I opened the door a crack and found David standing on the front porch with two brown handled bags. He was dripping wet. “What are you doing here?” I asked as I opened the door completely and pulled him in from the storm.
“To be honest, I don’t really know.”
“You’re soaked.”
He looked me up and down and I sat the candle on the nearest table to pull my robe tighter around my neck and waist.
“It looks like I’ve interrupted something.”
“No,” I said, taking a step back and into the living room. “Come in. I was just taking a bath when the lights went out. I was getting out anyway. It was too creepy.”
He nodded and in my stupor I’d not offered him a seat or to take the bags from his hands. “I’m sorry. Let me take those. Do you want a towel?”
“That would be nice.”
I hurried to the bathroom, pulling a towel from the rack and noticed the tub halfway filled with the warm water. “What are you doing all the way out here?
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking,” he said as I handed him the towel and he dried his face and hair. “I just felt bad for acting so soft today at the office. I’m still adjusting to my dad being sick.”
“It’s totally fine. Really.” I sat on the couch and motioned for him to join me in the chair across the tiny coffee table. “Sit.”
He seemed nervous, as if something was bothering him. I welcomed the company while the lights were out and I’d had such a weird day.
“I brought you dinner.”
“You did?” I asked.
“It’s a long story, but Jonathan met me here so I could personally deliver your luggage.”
“Yes,” I said, cutting him off. “It’s beautiful. I’ve never even had a Louis Vuitton purse. I noticed they have my monogram on them too.”
“I wanted you to have the best for our trip next week.”
“What’s the long story?” I asked, trying to wait patiently for him to explain why he was soaked and on my doorstep.
“When Jonathan and I were here he went to your kitchen to look for something. Maybe a Diet Coke?”
“That sounds like him,” I said as I leaned back into the couch, unable to fight the soothing effects of the half a magic pill.
“Anyway, he complained that you didn’t have any food in your refrigerator and then I realized you did have groceries, but you left them in the back of your car yesterday and Six had them thrown out. I felt bad about that and so…” He hesitated like a child confessing to a small crime. “I brought you dinner.”
I couldn’t contain the smile on my face. I’d felt alone and crazy and suddenly someone seemed to care. “You did?”
He nodded, still wondering if I was okay with his forward gesture. “What did you bring?”
“Chinese. Are you hungry?” he asked with a sheepish grin.
“I am.”
“Great. Where should I put this?” he asked as he stood, picking up the bags and shrugging his shoulders.
“How about right over there?” I said, pointing to the table I had in the corner of my living room. My little house wasn’t equipped for entertaining. The small breakfast table had belonged to my parents when they first got married. I found it when Jacob and I cleaned out their storage space after they died. It had been in my pos
session since college, but I’d never sat at it for a meal—at least not until tonight. “Let me light a couple more candles. I just happen to know where there’s a book of matches.”
I rummaged through the box and found the matches and tossed them to him. “Light those two candles on the table and I’m going to put some clothes on and bring the other candles in here.”
He nodded and as I was leaving the room, I glanced over my shoulder only to find him not lighting the candles, but watching me. “I’ll be right back.”
I shut the door to the bedroom and hurried to find a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt. Quickly dressing, I ran my hands through my hair, still damp on the ends from the tub and pulled it back up into a messy ponytail. Before leaving the room I hurried to the bathroom to pull the plug on the tub and clean up my mess in the sink. If David needed to use my bathroom, I didn’t want him to think—well, I just didn’t want him to think at all.
I grabbed the bottles and boxes in the sink and shoved them into the cabinet, closing it as fast as I could and hoping none of it would fall out before the magnet clicked, securing it inside.
I turned to unplug the tub and stepped back. I shut my eyes tightly and placed my hands over my face completely. “No.”
Slowly I pulled my hands from my face and stared at the bathtub—filled to the very top.
The candle cast a light from the shelf where it sat and the water sparkled with each flicker. My first instinct was to roll up my sleeve and pull the plug.
“Indie?”
I heard David call to me. My body jerked as the sound of his voice jolted me from my inner world and into his.
“Indie?”
“Yes.” My voice quivered in the air as I stared at the tub, water dripping from its full edges.
“Can I borrow another towel? I think I’m dripping on all your furniture.”
I pulled a second towel from the rack, picked up the candle from the shelf over the tub and closed the door behind me.
Calmly I walked back into the living room and found David taking off his jacket to hang it on a doorknob.