House of Sand: A Dark Psychological Thriller

by Michael J Sanford

  “We’re both just fine,” Joy says, stepping up to the bed. I didn’t see her enter. “Thanks to you, we’re almost perfect.”

  “Doctor Barrett says I swallowed too much smoke for my own good, but that I’ll be back to normal in no time. He said I’m a tough nut to crack,” Aza says, knocking on the top of her head.

  I can’t stop staring at Joy. The look in her eye… “Is Doctor Barrett the one that looks like a bear?” I ask.

  “Ha! See, Mom? I told you he looks like a bear!”

  Joy rolls her eyes and sits on the chair at my bedside. Aza sits on her lap and they both hold my hand.

  “I… I don’t understand,” I say.

  “You saved us,” Joy says.

  “You’re a big hero!” Aza exclaims.

  Joy nods, still smiling. Her eyes are brimming with tears. I can’t remember when she last looked at me like this. I’m not sure she ever has.

  “But the house. The fire?” I ask, finding it difficult to put together a solid thought while Joy’s eyes are locked on mine. Maybe the pain medication is affecting me more than I thought.

  “We’ll figure things out,” Joy says softly. It’s odd; her not yelling or at least scowling at me. “As soon as the marshal finishes the investigation, I’ll file an insurance claim and we can try to put things back together. Until then, we can stay in my parents’ guest house. The important thing is we’re all okay. It’s just a house.”

  Joy puts a hand to the side of my face. Electricity races along my cheek and sends a tingle down to my toes. Her touch is warm and gentle. I feel as though I’m melting. Joy leans over and kisses me. Her lips press against mine with a fullness I’ve never felt.

  “Eww, gross,” Aza says.

  Joy pulls back with a laugh. “I was just rewarding our hero with a little kiss. I’m sure he could use one from his favorite daughter, too.”

  “I’m his only daughter,” Aza says as she drapes herself on top of me in a tight embrace.

  I plant a huge kiss on Aza’s cheek and hold her fast to me as she squirms to get free.

  “Eww, Dad, stop kissing me! Ahh!”

  Joy’s laughter mixed with Aza’s feigned horror transports me to a place I’ve never been before. It’s a place I only dream of. I remember Joy and I talking of such a place when we were young, planning our life together. But we never found it.

  Joy leans over and wraps her arms around both Aza and I, trapping Aza in between us. She continues her dramatic enactment of being crushed to death by horrible parents.

  As we embrace, Joy’s head swivels to line up with mine. Mere inches apart, I catch her eye. She smiles sweetly and whispers, “I love you.”

  I breathe her breath. That’s what this is, I realize. This place I’ve never visited. The place Joy and I always spoke of, but never reached.

  “I love you, too,” I say.

  “You two are so gross,” Aza protests.

  “But we love you more!” Joy and I say in perfect unison.

  We hold tight to Aza until she professes her love for us in return. Breathless, Aza holds up her cast. “Don’t make me use this,” she says.

  “Oh please, mighty Aza, don’t hurt us,” I say with mock sincerity.

  Aza rolls her eyes and looks at Joy. Joy shrugs.

  “I’m just glad we’re all okay,” Joy says. She covers her mouth and turns away.

  Aza sighs and looks at me. “This is like the millionth time she’s cried about us being alive.”

  “She’s just…happy,” I say. “And so am I.”

  Joy turns back and rests a hand on my shoulder. “We’ll let you get some rest now. We should be getting over to my parents, anyway. We just didn’t want to leave before we got to see you.”

  “Well, I’m here. And I’m still kicking.” I move my legs to illustrate. It draws another eye roll from Aza.

  “We’ll be back tomorrow,” Aza says. “Doctor Bear Man says we might be able to take you home with us tomorrow.”

  “That sounds nice.”

  “Okay, well, bye, Dad.” Aza turns and runs for the door. “No more kisses till you get home!” Before she leaves, she spins back and winks at me, adding, “And good job!”

  Joy calls after her, but then turns back to me. “I don’t even care where you were,” she says. “You got back at just the right time. That’s what matters. And I promise things will be different from here on out. For all of us. This can be our new beginning, yeah?”

  I merely nod.

  “I love you so much,” Joy says. She kisses me again, wipes a tear from her eye, and moves for the door.

  I’m too stunned to act.

  Joy pauses at the door, leans against it, and looks back at me. She says nothing and, in a moment, leaves.

  I stare at the open doorway, willing her to return, longing to see her look at me with such…love and admiration. I set fire to our house to watch her burn, but from the ashes I’ve been given everything I’ve always wanted.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  The nurse—I still haven’t caught her name—rouses me with a tray of food. She helps me sit up and sets the tray on my lap before nodding, smiling sympathetically, and leaving.

  I poke at the roll. It’s two days past stale. I sample the Jell-O. While vibrantly green, it has no taste. The oatmeal—at least I think that’s what it is—would be better suited as wallpaper paste. But I haven’t eaten in… I don’t know how long, so I scarf it all down regardless of the taste or lack thereof.

  I swallow the last bite of roll and wash it down with a swig of water when a knock sounds from the door. It’s already open, and standing in the doorway, bathed in artificial light, is Ty.

  “What are you doing here?!” I shout.

  “Whoa, stand down, soldier, didn’t mean to scare ya,” Ty says, taking a step into the room. “I did knock.”

  My muscles quiver. My fingers twitch into fists and I want so badly to strike Ty down where he stands. But I can’t. Not only because I’m in a hospital bed with a cracked spine, but because it could jeopardize any possible reignition of my marriage. At some point during Joy’s visit yesterday, I decided to forget what happened in room thirteen of the Regency Motel. No, not forget. Not forgive either, but seeing how she looks at me now, I’m choosing to accept her role in the whole matter. I forced her into such a vulnerable place to begin with. I wasn’t the man I should have been. She needed a hero. And now she has one.

  Watching Ty glide up to the bed and alight on the only chair, I can’t help but think I set fire to the wrong house. Just one more mistake in a failed existence. But Joy was right. Things are going to change now. I have to hold on to this thought.

  “You look terrible, my man,” Ty says. His platinum-blond hair is slicked back, every hair precisely placed. His jeans are stone gray, pressed, and immaculate. I can’t see an errant hair on his clean-shaven face nor a stray speck of dust on his fitted t-shirt.

  “It looks worse than it is,” I say. I want to cut open his carotid artery and watch blood spurt all over his perfect outfit.

  “I can’t even believe you’re alive. I saw your house, and man…”

  “I get it,” I say sharply. I want to make Ty swallow every one of his perfect teeth.

  “You sure you’re all right? You seem a little testy, even for you.”

  “Seriously? I’m in the hospital. My house burned to the ground. Am I supposed to be all smiles and sunshine?” I want to string Ty up by his ankles and watch as he dies, head slowly bloating. It would take days.

  Ty shrugs and leans back in his chair. “You’re right. Sorry. How are Joy and Aza doing? Heard you pulled a full Superman act and saved ‘em both.”

  I can’t bear to hear Ty use their names. His smile grows as he says Joy’s. I turn away, grasping at the sheets at my side, wanting to wrap them around Ty’s neck. Even in my current condition, I’m certain I could kill him before anyone could interfere.

  I take a deep breath and turn back to face my friend with two faces. “T
hey’re great. Perfect, really. You know, Ty, we might have lost our home, but I think that fire may have just saved all of us.”

  “Yeah?” Ty asks. His smile softens, and a tiny tremor starts in one of his fingers. I want nothing more than to sever it in tiny increments while laying down every offense he has committed against me.

  “Yeah. Everything is different now. Better than ever before. We couldn’t be stronger, more connected, more committed. Nothing can break us apart now.”

  “Wow,” Ty says, clearly shocked. But he’s a master of deception and quickly recovers. “That’s great. What are you going to complain about now? We’re going to have a lot less to talk about if you got that whole thing sorted out.”

  He’s trying to make a joke, lighten the mood, but his tone infuriates me. If I move quick enough, could I tear the IV needle from my arm and plunge it deep into his eye? Could I wrap the tubing around his neck and make him stare into my eyes as I gouge out his?

  “Don’t know. Maybe nothing,” I say. I know I should maintain some semblance of friendship between us, for appearance’s sake, but it is taking everything I have to stop from decapitating him with the metal food tray still on my lap. It’s deliciously dull, and I’d really have to work at it to get through Ty’s thick neck. But I like a challenge.

  “You getting out of here soon?” Ty asks, never missing a beat. Every day, I want to take a piece of Ty away from him. First an ear, then a toe. Bit by bit, I want to break him down until there is nothing left.

  “Yeah, sometime today. Joy’s coming back for me.”

  “Awesome. Good to hear. Hey, if you’re up for it, maybe we could grab a beer later. Celebrate your not dying and all. My treat.” I want to force Ty’s head into a vat of beer and watch his arms and legs spasm as he drowns on one of the things he enjoys most.

  “I think I’ll just spend some time with my family. And you’ve never paid for anything. Not once.” It’s growing difficult to keep the murderous edge from my voice. I can’t help but envision hammering nails into his ears, just deep enough to render him deaf. I want to steal all of his senses. Leave him alone in the dark.

  “Guilty,” Ty says, raising his hands. “But I’ll pay you back one day, no worries. And I get it, just figured I’d ask. Well, whenever you’re done giving it to Joy, you let me know, and we can get back to our old routine.”

  “You need to go,” I say. I can’t release my grip on my sheets. I want to tear Ty’s nose off with my teeth and laugh and snarl in his face.

  Ty looks taken aback, but he quickly collects himself and hops out of his chair. “All righty. Just wanted to see how the hero was faring. Let me know when you get back to your old self.” He skips to the door, weightless and free. Ty has no conscience. “And good luck with Joy and all that.”

  I force down the impulse to castrate the man where he stands, and smile. “Thanks.”

  “If you need some tips, just give me a ring,” Ty says. “I know my way around the human form and I know it’s been a while for you.” He’s still grinning like a schoolboy, but his words are meant to cut me. Joy’s come back to me, and now Ty’s feeling threatened.

  “Fuck you,” I say. I don’t bother trying to mask the venom, the hatred. I want him to hear it. I want him to know that I know.

  “Just a joke, man. Well, take care of yourself.” Ty vanishes, whistling as he goes.

  When I know he’s gone, I let out a howl of fury and bear down on the metal food tray. It bends like a sapling, and when the ends have curled around to meet each other, I hurl it across the room. It clatters noisily to the floor.

  My hands are shaking, my breath ragged and uneven. It takes a considerable amount of time before I feel in control again. Seeing Ty reminds me that whatever it was inside me that started the fire is still here. And I won’t be able to suppress it forever.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Welcome Home, Hero

  The sign hanging across my in-laws’ kitchen must be twenty feet long, emblazoned with glittered letters. Hero.

  Paul and Ruthie—Joy’s parents—are standing beneath it, drinks in hand, grinning from ear to ear. Aza is still shouting “surprise” over and over as she jumps back and forth across the tile floor. Joy squeezes my arm, rests her head against my shoulder, and whispers, “You deserve this.”

  I flinch at her words, but I see she means it as she’s still wearing the same star-struck look I first saw in the hospital. Joy kisses my cheek and moves to greet her parents.

  Aza runs to me and seizes me around the middle in a tight hug. Her cast presses against my lower back and I grunt. She pulls back like she’s been burned.

  “Oops, forgot your back is all busted up,” she says.

  “It’s fine, sweetheart, just a tad sore.”

  “You dove out of a second-story window and landed with these two ladies atop ya,” Paul shouts. “I’m surprised you didn’t get flattened.”

  “Hey, put together we don’t weigh half as much as you,” Joy retorts with a grin.

  “Yeah!” Aza chimes in, always game to rag on her grandfather. “That great big belly you got is more than a million times my size. Good thing you didn’t need saving, or Dad would be obligated!”

  “I think you mean obliterated,” Paul says with a wink.

  “That’s what I said!”

  “You rascal, it most certainly is not,” Paul retorts, lacing his hands together atop his bulbous stomach. His mustache always twitches when he’s in a joking mood, doubly so when he squares off against Aza, and it’s practically dancing now.

  “It is, too!” Aza shrieks. She crouches, turns her hands into claws, and snarls. “Grandfather, prepare to be obligated!”

  “Eat my dust, rascal,” Paul says as he runs toward the back of the house.

  Aza races after him, calling out threats.

  Ruthie watches them go and turns back with an eye roll and soft chuckle. “Those two are such trouble together.”

  “Tell me about it,” Joy says. She takes a glass of wine from Ruthie. No one offers me one.

  “It’ll be good to have Aza around more now. I know Paul loves spending time with her. Says it makes him feel young again. And then very old again at the end of the day.” Ruthie laughs, catches my eye, and stops. “Oh, I’m sorry, I’ve neglected our hero.”

  Ruthie walks around the kitchen island and gingerly hugs me. She smells of apricots and wine. She pulls back and puts her hands on either side of my face. Looking intently into my eyes, she says, “You did good. I know you lost a lot, you all did, but you did good.”

  Ruthie has a knack for making me uncomfortable, and I can’t help but squirm. Luckily, Joy races over to extricate me from her mother’s grasp. “Easy with him,” Joy says. “He’s all mine.”

  Ruthie smiles and nods. “Sorry, I’m just not the greatest in these kinds of situations. Not like Paul and that daughter of yours. Doesn’t seem to have even fazed Aza. I just hope the poor thing isn’t holding it all in. I’m afraid of what may happen when the shock of it all wears off.”

  “Mom,” Joy says. “Aza’s a tough kid. Tougher than anyone else in this house, I assure you, but we’ll take care of her. No worries.”

  “Sorry. Of course you will. I didn’t mean that. I just…”

  “It’s fine,” Joy says, grabbing Ruthie by the shoulders. “And thank you for letting us crash here a bit.”

  Ruthie smiles and swipes the air. “Nonsense. We are thrilled to have you. Well, perhaps not thrilled, given the circumstances, but you know what I mean. And the guest house is all done up for you. I’ve just set out some clean towels, soaps, and all that stuff. And you know you can stay as long as you need to. This sort of thing won’t resolve overnight.”

  “I know, I know,” Joy says, then turning to me, adds, “I don’t know about you, but I could use a hot shower before dinner. You should probably lie down for a bit. Doctor said to take it easy for a few days.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” I say. “And no heavy lifting for a few wee
ks. I was listening.”

  “You’re not in too much pain, are you?” Ruthie asks, looking me over.

  Bandages cover the burns across my neck and I’m wearing gloves to protect my hands. “It’s worse than it looks.”

  “Got you on some good meds, huh?” Ruthie asks with a smile.

  I nod. “Something like that.”

  “Well, you just be careful with that stuff. I have a cousin that threw her whole life away because of pain pills.”

  “Mom,” Joy cuts in. “Stop worrying so much. He saved us from a burning building. I think we can handle it.”

  Ruthie nods. “I know. Sorry. Again. Well, you kids go get settled in. Your father and I can keep an eye on Aza. Dinner will be at six.”

  The guest house sits in the backyard, flanked by a pair of weeping willow trees that have stood for countless decades. Joy takes my hand as soon as we leave the main house. I feel her energy through both glove and burns. She looks at me and smiles. Aza’s shrill voice pierces the air as she chases Paul around the property.

  “Your parents have never been so nice to me,” I say as we step into the quaint guest house. It smells like fresh lavender and is immaculately kept.

  “Really?”

  I cross the bedroom and slowly ease myself onto the bed. The pain is negligible, just a ghost of what it was. “I mean, they’ve never been mean to me or anything, just not nice. Most of the time they pretend I don’t exist.”

  “They just don’t feel like they know you very well. You always keep to yourself around them. I know you can put on a good show. You have a magnetic personality when you care to show it. You just don’t ever let them see it.”

  “I just never thought they approved. Of me. Of us.”

  Joy lays down next to me and rests a hand on my stomach. “That’s going to change now, too. I was serious about what I said at the hospital. Everything is going to be different. For all of us.”

  I turn to face her. I don’t recognize the woman at my side, but I can’t imagine being without her, either. “Just like that?”