Deep Night

by Greg F. Gifune

  “I’ll do my best. Be good.”

  Ruthie gave a wicked smile and sank back behind the cubicle wall. “But it’s so much more fun being bad.”

  Stifling a laugh, Seth left his cubicle and checked in with Bill Jacobs, the head of the department. After a brief but uneventful meeting, he headed for the break room.

  As he moved past the water cooler and a sea of cubicles, he loosened his tie and breathed a sigh of relief. Two weeks away from this place would do him a world of good.

  But for Louis Dodge and Darian Stone, the break room was empty. They had agreed to meet there earlier, but since they all worked in different departments—Darian in accounting and Louis in shipping—Seth was surprised to find them waiting, as they were rarely able to coordinate their break times to coincide.

  “Hey guys,” he said meekly.

  Louis waved him over to the table where he and Darian were sitting. “I’m going for appetizers and a few drinks over at O’Leary’s after work, you in?”

  “Thanks, but I can’t.” Seth set his briefcase down and rubbed his tired eyes.

  “Why, you got something going?”

  “Nope, I’m exhausted, haven’t been sleeping well lately. I was planning a quiet evening alone.”

  “Scintillating.” Louis jerked a thumb in Darian’s direction. “You’re getting as bad as this one, can’t get him out of the house either.”

  Darian took a sip of coffee from a small Styrofoam cup. “Sorry if I can’t match your enthusiasm for the artery-clogging delicacies at O’Leary’s.”

  “I can only hope they kill me quickly.” Louis ran a hand through his thick blond hair. Though conservatively-styled, it was one of his more striking features.

  At thirty-three, Louis was the youngest of the three men. Short and a bit stocky, he had always appeared healthy and strong, but in the last few months he had slowed a bit, as if the singles lifestyle he so passionately claimed to embrace since his divorce three years earlier had begun to catch up to him. In addition, he’d gained at least thirty excess pounds, which even in his work attire—a suit and tie—left him looking frumpy and disheveled. “Fine, you old farts do what you want,” he said. “I’m going for drinks and having myself some fun. You guys remember fun, right?”

  “Sure, it’s right between fumigate and function, in the dictionary,” Darian said. “Think about it.”

  Louis and Darian were doing their best to keep things light, but Seth could tell they were trying a bit too hard. Neither had been quite right since that night a year before. None of them had. Louis in particular seemed shaky of late.

  “You hear the latest with Becky?” Louis asked abruptly. “Got a call from her last night. You ready for this? She and her new boyfriend are moving to Montana next month, and she wants to take the kids with them. You believe that shit?”

  “Jesus, Louis, can she do that?”

  He shrugged. “I can fight it in court but these judges are pricks. They almost never take kids from their mothers, and besides, even if I tried to get custody they’d never give it to me. Not after that other thing.”

  A few months before, Louis had been arrested for punching his ex-wife’s new boyfriend over a dispute involving his children. Though the charges were eventually dropped, the incident had resulted in Louis only being allowed supervised visits with his children. In all the time Seth had known him it was the only occurrence of violence he could ever remember Louis perpetrating. He’d always been more tough talk than action, but now even that had changed. “So what’s in Montana?”

  “Cows?” Louis gave a humorless laugh. “Her boyfriend’s old man owns a big car dealership out there and he wants to retire and turn everything over to his son. Sounds like the kids won’t want for anything, but shit, I’ll never see them.”

  His daughter Danielle was only five, his son Louis, Jr., just seven. It seemed a particularly difficult time to uproot children and make them start all over again elsewhere, Seth thought, especially so far from their father. Though the pain in his friend’s eyes was intense, Seth made it a point not to stare. He knew Louis was far from a saint. He drank too much, ate too much and by his own admission had been a less than stellar husband. But one thing no one could deny was the love he had for his kids. For all of Louis’s calculated bravado and tough guy swagger, Seth couldn’t imagine him surviving long without his children in his life.

  “What do you plan to do?”

  “Not much I can do,” he said in an uncharacteristically soft tone. “Deal with it, I guess. Tell my kids I’ll see them every chance I get and hope to Christ they remember who I am.”

  “Maybe you should put in for some personal time,” Seth suggested. “Take a break and try to sort this all out.”

  “I don’t know.” Louis shrugged. “I’m thinking about it.”

  “We could all do with some time off from this place.” Darian stood up, walked behind the table and tossed his coffee cup into a nearby receptacle. On his way back, he reached out, gave Louis a gentle pat of reassurance on the shoulder then turned to Seth. “Be sure to take advantage of your vacation and get some rest.” Of average height, with hair trimmed so close to his scalp at first glance it appeared shaved, Darian was the opposite of Louis in almost every way. Subtly handsome, he possessed a bright smile and an average but thin build, wore eyeglasses and a short goatee, and had a voice and manner that was generally so relaxed it bordered on serene. “We’ll hold things together here, don’t worry.”

  “Me worry?” Seth smiled, grabbed his briefcase and headed for the door.

  Louis crossed his eyes comically. “Thank God for Mother.”

  Because he was the eldest of their group, and due to his often doting and controlled manner, Darian had been given the moniker Mother by his small circle of friends, and though he often cringed whenever they used it, they knew that deep down he was secretly fond of it. Darian was a quiet, confident sort, the kind of man that carried himself like he knew who he was, where he was headed, and precisely how he planned to get there. He was a company man, took his career seriously and performed his job with a nearly obsessive intensity. He could be cynical but was rarely malicious, less of a wiseass than Louis, and inherently brighter. At thirty-eight, he’d been married to his wife Cynthia for several years, and together they’d had a child, a daughter named Debra who had recently turned nine. For Darian, there was the company, his family, a few close friends, and little else, and while Seth sometimes found him almost too deliberate in his routines, he respected him enormously.

  “Absolutely.” Seth gave a casual wave goodbye. “I’ll see you guys later.”

  When he headed back into the hallway, Darian followed. “Hey,” he said quietly, “hold up a minute.”

  “What’s up?”

  “You’re looking a little stressed.”

  “Don’t I always look like that?”

  This time Darian didn’t smile. “Seriously, is everything all right?”

  They’d all been dancing with each other like this for months. Approach and avoid, testing each other, reaching, trying to feel each other out. “I’m just tired,” Seth said. “Like I said, haven’t been sleeping well lately.”

  Darian looked like he wanted to say something but hesitated, seemed to think about it a moment then said, “Worried about you, that’s all.”

  “What about you?”

  “Me? I’m—I’m fine.”

  “And Louis; is he fine too? He doesn’t look fine, Mother. He’s not acting fine.”

  Darian nodded knowingly, and neither man said a word for several seconds. “Have you spoken to Peggy lately?”

  Seth shrugged. “It’s complicated.”

  “Yeah, I imagine it would be.”

  “I’ve got some issues I have to work through.” Again, Seth waited, hoping Darian would bite. But he didn’t. “I think we all do.”

  Darian looked around to make certain they were still alone in the hallway. “How’s it going with that doctor? Does it…Do you find
it helps you?”

  “It’s still a little early to tell, but I think so.”

  “Good, that’s—that’s good.”

  “Why, are you thinking about trying it?”

  “I was just curious how it was going, that’s all.” Darian moved closer, his expression somber. “Listen, don’t—I mean, you haven’t told the doctor about that night, have you?”

  “Some of it, yes.”

  “But not about…”

  “Not about Christy, no. I gave my word, didn’t I?”

  Darian nodded vigorously. “Of course, yes. I wasn’t implying you—I just—I didn’t mean to pry, I just wanted to make sure you’re OK.”

  Seth kept his expression still. “Thanks.”

  “Well listen, if you need to talk, I’m around.”

  “Same here.”

  Darian nodded awkwardly.

  “Keep a close eye on Louis.” Seth turned and headed toward the elevator. “I’m worried about him.”

  “I’m worried about all of us.”

  Seth hesitated a moment. Though it was the most honest and unguarded thing he’d heard Darian say in nearly a year, he couldn’t bring himself to respond. The fear had risen in him again, the inexplicable panic and terror. He gave a quick nod, and without looking back, made his way down the hallway to the elevator.

  Why couldn’t they discuss things like they once had? It was as if they spoke to each other in code now, like guilty children too nervous to look each other in the eye. As the elevator doors closed, he focused on being away from this place and all its Kafkaesque morbidity for two weeks. Normally he would’ve been thrilled with the break, the change of scenery, but this time he could not be so sure of what was waiting for him out there.

  Once the elevator began its descent to the parking garage beneath the building, Seth caught himself replaying the session he’d had earlier with Doc.

  Visions of Raymond, the snow, the two of them running, slipped through his mind like a movie reel. And his parents, they were always there too, lingering in his head like the ghosts they’d become, brooding, distant entities peering at him from some other place, some other time.

  He swallowed hard and fought off emotion. Maybe it was just guilt.

  If there was one thing Seth Roman was intimately familiar with, it was guilt. There had always existed in him a curious dichotomy that coupled a love of life directly alongside relentless self-loathing, and that, compounded by all that had happened, left Seth feeling like a complete failure. He felt he had failed not only himself, but in every way possible: as a son, as a brother, as a husband, and in ultimately losing his faith, he’d even failed God.

  But he believed God had failed him too. He’d turned His back on them and in the process stolen the lives of his parents, destroyed his brother and left their lives in ruins. The world had gone up in flames, and only Seth’s guilt remained, more powerful and unshakable than his faith had ever been.

  Although he’d left a bit early, he still found himself caught in rush hour traffic on his way out of Boston, and to complicate matters, an icy rain had kicked up. Sitting in a bumper-to-bumper creep, the squeaking cadence of the windshield wipers distracted him a moment. But like all good demons, his never stayed quiet long.

  It had rained that night, too. He remembered the horrible downpour as his mind raced, trying desperately to make sense of what had happened.

  By the time paramedics reached the scene their father was dead. Their mother made it to the hospital but never regained consciousness and died the next day.

  The look of his mother in that hospital bed—a profane hybrid of flesh and apparatus, so many tubes coming from her it was hard to tell where she ended and the array of machines surrounding her began—was something Seth had never been able to wipe from his mind. Her head a mangle of bruises and awful contusions, mouth propped open, a breathing tube protruding from it like a plastic bone burst through her body, she barely looked human.

  Raymond had sat next to the bed and sobbed uncontrollably, now and then looking to Seth with a pleading expression that screamed: Do something.

  That had always been his role, after all. He was the older brother, the protector, a role he had been assigned whether he wanted it or not. Do something.

  Seth prayed for hours, as his mother had taught him, asking God for a sign, some explanation, or even a miracle. But no answer came.

  That vision was the last memory Seth had in which his brother actually gave a damn about something. When their mother slipped away, much of his desire—perhaps his ability—to care for anything or anyone seemed to go with her.

  After the accident Seth left school in the hopes of looking out for his brother, but within days of the funerals Raymond had packed his meager belongings into a duffel bag and simply walked away. Though he returned periodically over the years, for the most part, Raymond stayed gone.

  Seth took a retail sales job and began to drown his sorrows in alcohol. Eventually he was able to move into his own small apartment, and in a short amount of time he’d left sales and taken a position in customer service.

  For the next several years Raymond bounced around the country, spending time in numerous county jails for various petty crimes and run-ins with locals or the law. Seth rarely saw or heard from him except in the form of occasional phone calls looking for bail money or brief letters penned in some cell.

  Despite a slowly worsening drinking habit, Seth managed to land a job with Severance, where he had worked ever since, and for those first several years after the tragedy not much changed. It was a lonely and sullen time.

  And then he met Peggy.

  With the most soulful eyes he had ever seen and a bawdy, contagious laugh, she was passionate, direct, fiercely intelligent, and had a wonderful sense of humor Seth found disarming. Though she rarely wore makeup she had a natural beauty that matched her down-to-Earth sensibilities and compassionate political leanings. Peggy was a sculptor, painter and teacher, an artist who was more comfortable in jeans and a t-shirt, sandals or an old pair of sneakers than she ever could be in a dress and heels. She wore kerchiefs and rope bracelets, funky rings on her fingers and toes, drank cheap wine and danced barefoot whenever afforded the chance.

  To Peggy, Seth was a dark, brooding, mysterious and complex man she found fascinating, and while she was as far from the corporate-type as one could get, she believed that deep down, so was he. It was one of the things he loved about her instantly. She was capable of seeing not only the good in people, but the truth in them as well. Tortured as she knew him to be, she saw more than the pain of his past, she saw the person he wanted to be, the person he could be.

  * * *

  When they met at a fund-raiser for a local animal shelter, both were in their early twenties. Seth had only recently started working at Severance, and Peggy had graduated from Lesley University with a degree in Fine Arts a few months before. As a volunteer at the shelter, she’d been helping out with adoptions, and since Seth had decided to get a dog, it became a perfect excuse to talk with her.

  That day he took home a puppy he named Petey. The following night, he took Peggy to dinner and a movie. A few months and numerous dates later, while walking along the banks of the Charles River, Seth proposed.

  They were married soon after in a quiet ceremony by a justice of the peace. Peggy’s parents, professors who lived and taught in Cambridge, attended on her side, and Seth’s Nana attended on his. Although Raymond had promised he’d be there for Seth, he’d been unexpectedly detained in some Pennsylvania town after getting into a bar fight that resulted in his arrest. In his absence, Darian—someone Seth had only known and worked with for a year at that point, but with whom he’d become close—stepped in as Best Man at the last moment. Raymond eventually blew into town, but by the time he got there Seth and Peggy had already returned from a weeklong honeymoon in Bermuda and moved into an apartment in the Back Bay section of Boston.

  Two years into the marriage Peggy learned she was unable
to have children. The question of starting a family had always been something Seth avoided, and though he knew Peggy wanted kids one day, she had never forced the issue or made him feel pressured to become a father. Although he liked children, parenthood was a terrifying prospect, so the news was something he found far easier to deal with than Peggy had. For her, it changed something in her being, something nearly tangible. It was neither a dramatic nor blatant change, but instead a subtle one that seeped from her quietly. She became a wonderfully attentive aunt to her sister’s children, and loved them dearly, but Seth knew it wasn’t the same for her. To him, as long as they were together that was all that mattered, and while Peggy believed the same, the idea of not even being able to consider children as a possibility, a concept in some future they might have together, the finality of it all, left her distraught.

  “I never had a burning desire to be a mother,” she’d told him one night while they lay in bed, cuddled together beneath blankets and a large comforter, “it was never that important to me. But when I met you, I thought about it for the first time in a serious light. It seemed a natural extension of us, to bring a child into the world. Our child. Together.”

  “I’m sorry,” Seth whispered to her again and again, holding her tight. It was all he could think to say.

  “It doesn’t matter, as long as we have each other.”

  Initially, Peggy had given Seth reason to focus on something other than his lack of self-esteem. She’d been a reason to get up in the morning, to go to work, to do well. She’d given him the chance to care for someone, to feel alive again, even if imperfectly so, a reason to love and be loved. And though her inability to bear children had made things more difficult in their marriage, theirs was still a strong bond, and Seth believed they’d be together forever.

  But then came the trip to Maine, the days and nights at the cabin, the snowstorm and Raymond and Christy’s disappearance…

  He’d pulled away, become more introverted and silent, pushing Peggy away without even realizing it, and the chasm between them began to widen. The joy and unconditional acceptance that had bridged their differences and made their marriage rock solid in the early years continued to slowly decay until Seth finally decided it would be best if he moved out. After nine years of marriage, he left Peggy and moved to a small apartment complex in the suburbs just south of Boston.