The Stage

by Catherine Russell

  When I got off the elevator Chase was sitting on the floor outside his door, but the door looked more like a poster board that had been covered in silly string and confetti. He sat looking dejected, his knees pulled up, his head leaning on the wall. He turned and caught sight of me.

  He smiled and halfheartedly waved. His costume seemed to be coming apart and his shoes were mismatched. Somehow I was sure his frat brothers had something to do with it.

  “Ah… a friendly face.” Plus he was a bit drunk. How cute. A drunk monk.

  “Hey, what happened to you?” I fished through my bag; my keys had sunk to the bottom.

  “Oh, the usual. They threw me out the fire escape and then switched out my door lock… again.”

  “Again?”

  “Yeah, they did it when we were in the dorms too. Twice. I couldn’t get into my room during finals. They thought it was funny.”

  I shook my head, feeling a bit sorry for him.

  “Well, you can crash on my couch, that’s cool,” I offered as I unlocked my door.

  I stopped dead in my tracks. I didn’t need a light to know something wasn’t right. Flashbacks from my childhood when my stepfather would rampage through the house, terrorizing us. Someone had been here. Drawers were hanging by their hinges, everything scattered, chairs knocked over, even my refrigerator had been torn apart; the food was spilling out across the linoleum. Black and red paint splattered the walls, my curtains were shredded and lay on the floor.

  The balcony door stood open, the chilling night air making frost on the surfaces inside. Whoever had been here came in that way; the glass was shattered. Even from here I could see that the glass caved inward.

  Chase tried to walk through but slipped on broken eggs and glass. I steadied him the best I could, grabbing the counter and supporting both of us. I instinctively closed my eyes, reaching out to make sure we were alone.

  “Holy crap, what happened?”

  The fool who broke in was long gone. It was just us two seeing the devastation.

  “It’s pretty obvious… I got broken into.” I tried to slow my breathing. My heart raced. I tried to center myself. I would have thought that my fear would have alerted Geoffrey. Then it dawned on me that if he was hunting near his home, he didn’t want me to experience that first-hand and neither did I.

  The first thing I noticed missing was Ashleigh’s laptop, which had been on the table. Then I saw my art books and sketches were tossed all around.

  Chase suddenly sobered up. “The building superintendent said there were two other break-ins just this week.” We made our way through the broken glass that covered the floor.

  I reached for my phone, and discovered I’d forgotten to charge it. Chase got his cell out and handed it to me as he walked carefully over the mess.

  I headed for my room but he stopped me. “Let me go first… just in case,” he said. I followed him: the bedroom and bathroom were just as bad as the front room. Things were knocked over, the small cupboards and space under the sink were ransacked, shampoo oozed out from smashed bottles.

  My closet had been gone through as well, clothes strewn from hell to breakfast all over the room. My end table was knocked over; a bare lightbulb that had been my lamp lay on top of a pile of my shoes.

  My stomach began to churn, acid rising up, threatening what calm I had left. Seeing this… again. I could feel the anxiety creeping up, my palms becoming sweaty. I glanced in the mirror. All color had drained from my face.

  “Meg you don’t look so good. Here—” Chase pushed a hill of shredded

  curtains and cushion stuffing off the couch. “Sit down.” I followed blindly. I’d

  forgotten I had his cell still in my hand, the shock starting to sink in.

  “Megan… Meg?” He snapped his fingers to get me to focus on him.

  “I’m calling the cops. Why don’t you just wait here, all right? Don’t move.”

  Chase was trying to help, but I was numb with the memories flooding back. I pushed at them, keeping them at bay. I had to get a grip. This is different, it’s not like then, I repeated over and over, trying to convince myself. The room began to move back and forth. It took several moments to realize it was me, not the room.

  I could hear Chase talking urgently. There was a tone to his voice I’d never caught before—a sense of authority, of control. His nerdiness was replaced by organized statements, of movements with a purpose.

  Maybe I was just hallucinating. I stopped rocking and began to pace, looking for clues to the madness. Devastation, my life sat in ruins around me. Yet as I looked, really looked, I began to see things. Things that went with the scene yet didn’t. Chase came back in.

  “The police are on their way. They said not to touch anything.” He tiptoed through the debris.

  “I’m not going to,” I said as I made my way to stand against the wall, looking and thinking. Years of being in a violent household had taught me to detach from what was happening. My mind began to weave its way through what I was seeing.

  “Do you want to call Ashleigh?” he offered.

  I kept thinking, seeing something in this mess that shouldn’t have been here.

  “Megan… did you hear me?” he stood in front of me, catching my eyes.

  “Yeah, sure…” I reached for the phone, punching the numbers in absentmindedly. I heard her voice but I didn’t respond.

  “Helllooo,” she yawned into my ear.

  “Hey, Ash… it’s me. Um… can you come over?” I glanced outside. The dark night was still crystal clear.

  “What? It’s… it’s five in the morning. Megan… what’s going on?”

  “My place got broken into,” I said numbly. That got her attention.

  “Are you all right?” she snapped, now sounding wide awake.

  “Yeah… but the apartment…”

  “I’m on my way.” The line went dead and I handed Chase the cell.

  “Chase, look at this.” I pulled his attention to the kitchen. “What do you see?” I asked with a detached voice.

  “Uh… your place, trashed,” he said with a bit of sarcasm.

  “No… I know that, but look.” I pointed to my table where the laptop had been.

  “What?”

  “So far as I can see, the only thing missing is my laptop… well, actually, it’s Ash’s. She was lending it to me. It’s all a mess but that’s just it, a mess. My jewelry box is still in the bedroom.”

  I pointed to an open cupboard in the kitchen. “Even my tip jar is still here.”

  “So they were after your laptop? But why trash the whole place? Didn’t you say it was right here, on the table?” He pointed to the table, now on its side, the legs pointing toward the wall.

  “Yeah, why go to all this trouble…” I gestured to the chaos, “… if all you wanted was that?”

  “You got me. I don’t know.” He shrugged in confusion.

  “Maybe it wasn’t the computer but what was in it… on the hard drive.” My mind began to think two steps ahead.

  “Like your personal ID stuff?”

  “Yes and no… my journal.”

  “Your journal?”

  “Yeah, it wasn’t my ID. It’s Ashleigh’s. But they wouldn’t know that. They’d think it was mine.”

  “So you think they’re after your journal… about you?”

  “No it was about Geoffrey… me and him.”

  In my gut I knew I’d stumbled upon the right answer, but they were out of luck. I’d been smart enough to know not to leave anything on Ash’s hard drive. My journal was on a well-hidden jump drive. I’d learned from my mom when you wanted to hide something you didn’t just shove it in the back of the freezer. You wanted to put it in the last place someone would look.

  I started for the bathroom, with Chase following.

  “Where are
you going?” He stepped over the piles of tossed bath towels and sheets.

  “The one place a guy would never look.” I grinned as I got to the cupboard in the bathroom. The small pink box sat undisturbed.

  “Tampons?” His face flushed as I reached into it.

  “No, this.” I held up my jump drive. “It’s my journal.”

  “I gotta admit, it’s the last place I’d ever look,” he agreed.

  Just then I heard Ashleigh’s voice coming from the outside hallway.

  “Megan… Megan? Where are you?” her anxious voice echoed.

  “In here, Ash.” I stuck my head out the door. I put the jump drive in my pocket. I didn’t want anyone else to see it.

  “Oh my God, darling… your things… what an absolute mess.” Even at this hour of the morning she wore a gorgeous green cashmere sweater with black jeans, and her trademark heels. A green beret hid her hair.

  Right behind her were the police. They brought a forensics team because this was the third break-in in this building in under a week. Soon fingerprint powder was everywhere, along with bright-yellow “Do-Not-Cross-Police” tape through my balcony doors. The next few hours blurred all together: I gave statements, the building superintendent showed up.

  One of Chase’s frat brothers showed back up to let him in and took a quick glance in.

  “Hey, Chase,” he called around the few officers leaving.

  “Mark, hold up,” he went to meet him by his door.

  “Megan, you sure you’re good then? Sure you don’t want my couch?” He reversed my earlier invitation.

  “I’m good, Chase, but thanks anyway.” I made my way to his doorway.

  “Not a problem, any time.” He rubbed my shoulder.

  “And… thanks for helping with everything.” It felt a little awkward. I was over- taken with a yawn and my eyes were getting heavy.

  “I’ll see you later then, all right?”

  “Catch you later,” I agreed as he was finally got into his apartment.

  Ashleigh met up with me, giving me a more than usual hug, almost like a comforting gesture.

  “Hey, where’s Geoffrey?” she questioned.

  “I haven’t called him yet.”

  “Yet? What are you waiting for? Does the place have to be on fire?”

  “No, I but knew he was busy with stuff.” I looked away, trying not to let the lie slip in front of her.

  “Well, I think it’s about time someone called him.” She reached for her phone and I opened my hand, requesting it.

  “I’ll take care of it, trust me.”

  I dialed the familiar number as the final police officer left, leaving a business card behind in case I had any future questions.

  “Ashleigh, to what do I owe this pleasure at this early morning hour?”

  Oh yeah, her name would be on his caller ID. “Hey you… it’s me,” I said, closing my eyes and trying to reach out to his mind. However, my weariness was heavy and I couldn’t connect.

  “Meg… what’s going on?” His voice was tense with worry.

  “Gotta little problem here… I had a break-in,” I said, my voice thick with exhaustion.

  “Are you safe?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine. My place, on the other hand, not so good.”

  “I take it Ashleigh’s there?”

  “She’s getting ready to leave.” I rubbed my eyes.

  “Could you put her on the phone, please?” His tone was urgent.

  “Ash… he wants to talk to you.” I handed her the phone, then began placing spilled and spoiled food into oversized garbage bags. Almost twenty-four hours with no sleep meant confusion and weariness was setting in fast. My anger had sapped me of what energy I had left. I stopped cleaning, righted a tipped chair, put my head down on the counter, and closed my eyes.

  “Yes, I’ll wait. That’s not a problem, of course. See you soon.” With a click she closed her phone.

  “He’s on his way, isn’t he?”

  “What would ever give you that idea?” she quipped, placing a blanket around my shoulders.

  “Is he mad I didn’t call?”

  “No… not at all. He’s very worried, though.” I raised my head, opening my eyes as she carefully made her way through the mess.

  “He cares about you, you know.” She sat on the other chair next to me.

  “Yeah, I know. The feeling’s mutual.” I grinned and closed my eyes.

  We didn’t hear him as he slipped silently through the roof access. I felt him before he came in. I could see his sight, strained; seeing it for the first time. Reliving the shock at the scene through his eyes was harsh.

  I’m so sorry. I should’ve been here, he silently whispered. I smiled as I kept my head down, resting.

  You’re here now, that’s all that matters. I sighed with relief even though thinking was difficult at this point.

  I slowly opened my eyes and sat up as he came through the door. The anxiety showed tightly on his face, dimming the light blue hue of his eyes.

  “Meg,” he said, and reached for me, holding me in his arms All the night’s events came crashing down and I lost it, trembling, tears now flowing like an open faucet. I hated myself for the waterworks, always thought it a sign of weakness, but I couldn’t control my body’s reaction, so I just let it go.

  “Ashleigh, I can’t thank you enough for staying with her through this.” His eyes swept the scene before him.

  “I’d love to take all the credit, but not this time, darling. Actually I wasn’t here first. It was Chase.” Her head inclined to his place next door.

  “Chase… Chase from next door?” His reaction piqued my curiosity, but not enough to push away the fatigue taking over me.

  They were talking in low tones. I wanted to say something… something important… but his voice sounded far away, like I was dreaming.

  “I’ll take her to my place.”

  His cool hands helped me stand. I reached for my bag, but as usual he was quicker. I used the counter for support as I tried moving, willing myself to leave the

  devastation for the night. My anger still simmered under the surface, but along with it was the nagging, inevitable question of why me.

  Geoffrey’s offer of help agitated me, but I had to stop and think. It wasn’t him I was mad at; he was the good guy here. I gave into my need for help, his slight smile giving me a dose of hope.

  “Can you find some of her things for tonight?” he asked.

  “Already done, darling,” Ash said as she handed him my backpack. He scooped me up and I nestled into his chest, my ear resting next to his silent heart.

  “Thanks so much again, Ashleigh… I owe you one.” He gave her a quick one-armed hug and we made our way out the door. I didn’t remember the drive, arriving at his home, or when he got me inside. My mind had gone into self-preservation mode, but my inner silence didn’t last for long.

  Chapter 14

  The image was a familiar one. The house had been trashed again. Silence hung over it like a shroud. Bits and pieces of broken plates and shattered glass covered the floor, along with the usual upturned pieces of furniture, and the flower pots were uprooted; dirt spilled out over the already stained carpet.

  The house had been a boxing ring with my mom as the primary punching bag. She’d seen it coming and sent me to Ash’s place, our version of a safe house. Even my dog, Toto, was hiding. I knew he was safe; somehow he always escaped. The house was too still, I was scared for mom. I made my way through the debris field; my temper rose, building from a trickle to a flood of anger over the senselessness.

  “Mom? Where are you?” I called out, but my voice was lost. Right before my eyes the scene changed yet was the same. I knew mom wasn’t a part of this scene…my scene… my apartment.

  Someone was standing on my balcony, the sun outs
ide surrounding him. I’d surprised him and he turned to stare me down, his deep green eyes recalled a memory… another dream.

  His blond hair was bleached white by the sun and flowed over his shoulders. His long sleeves were pushed up, revealing intricate tattoos on both of his forearms. He held a the strap to a bag in one hand, ready to heave it over his shoulder. For his small frame he seemed very well-built, the long muscles pulled tight.

  I tried to run at him, ending up in the perpetual slow motion of dreams. He put one hand out as if to stop me. He said my name… his voice… it was as if he knew me. “Megan.”

  I stopped in my tracks. I blinked and he was gone without a trace. “No!” I screamed this time, my voice at full volume, shaking through me. I sat straight up in the bright sunlight that flowed through the windows. I was breathing like I’d just run up a flight of stairs. I blinked several times before I realized where I was and tried to gain some control.

  “Megan… love,” his cool hand held mine, the other brushing my hair from my eyes, his eyes reflecting the anger I was trying to rein in from the dream. Our breathing fell into sync, slowing as we stared at each other. I closed my eyes, willing the anger to fade. It was just a dream, I reminded myself. I could feel his reaction to my memories. I felt guilty for being the cause of it. He seemed to struggle with the outside influence the link had on his own emotions.

  With a deep breath I opened my eyes and tried to relax. I could already tell that I hadn’t slept enough; my eyes were stinging from the light.

  “Hi.” I managed to whisper the word while resting my head on his shoulder.

  “That was quite a scene you replayed,” he said, his voice sounding a bit tight.

  The flashbacks were causing their own havoc. My memories of growing up were not all rosy and pink, with lace and dollies. But the stranger in my dream… had Geoffrey seen him as well?

  “The dreams? Yeah, one of many,” I said, sitting up, stretching my cramped legs. I was tangled up in a beautiful white comforter. I realized I was in a huge California King bed in a room with large open beams and natural colors that mirrored the rest of his home. I leaned into him, trying to hold onto this little moment of calm.