Cleaving Souls

by Chauncey Rogers

  A car drove by outside, and a bird called from a nearby tree. A few houses down, a dog was barking, probably at a squirrel. It was daytime, then? She shook as she pushed herself up from the wall, still holding the handgun. She felt hungry. Ravenous. As she looked towards the kitchen, her eyes crawled across her copy of What to Expect When You’re Expecting laying on the floor.

  She shuddered, her breath locking up and then breaking out in short bursts, and she felt fresh tears start to slip from her eyes.

  She couldn’t be like this. She was going to be a mother. She had to pull things together. She was being perfectly irrational.

  Resolutely, Kat set the pistol on the couch beside her. She wiped at her eyes, smearing the tears across her face. Then, like a child, she buried each eye into the fabric of her shirt, sniffling loudly.

  When she raised her head again, she felt better. Not good, but better, as if she had done something.

  She needed Alex. She knew that. She couldn’t stay home like this—not anymore. She needed him to be there with her, to ground her and settle her fears where they belonged. Weird phone issues or not, she needed to call him.

  Still shaking—though now more from weakness than from fear—Kat braced herself against the wall and then reached behind the couch, fishing for her phone. When her fingers had closed around it, she leaned back from the wall and sat down.

  She tried not to see what messages had come in, but it was impossible not to. There they were, as soon as the screen was on, waiting for her. Six of them, all scrambled and as nonsensical as before.

  She wouldn’t look at them, wouldn’t try to read them. Whatever her eyes happened to see before she could flick past the notifications screen was all that they would see of the cryptic texts. A flick of her finger, and then they were gone.

  She was halfway through bringing up Alex’s number when the phone shook in her hands, and the new message appeared before her eyes:

  It’s her turn.

  Kat’s sore eyes flew wide open, and the phone dropped from her hands.

  Then the front door swung open.

  14

  The door swung away from Alex, pouring sunlight around him and into the dark room. He heard a scrambling sound, and then a gasp from within. Just as his eyes were beginning to adjust, he heard his wife’s voice.

  “Alex?”

  “Kat?” He stepped forward. “Kat, are you okay?”

  “Alex!” She stumbled out of the shadows, bumping her knee against the arm of the couch as she moved towards him. Then she fell into his arms, and for several seconds he held her there while sobs shook her in the mid-morning heat. As the time passed, his eyes were finally able to pierce beyond the edge of light and into the front room beyond. Books were scattered across the floor. A blanket had been draped over the television. The armchair was missing. The air stank, and Kat smelled sour and sweaty.

  “What happened?” He grabbed Kat by the shoulders and pushed her gently away from himself, then said louder, “What happened?”

  “I was so sc— scared,” Kat said. She kept her face down, refusing to look him in the eye, and Alex felt his own worry growing even more.

  “Kat? Kat, what did they do? What happened?”

  She shook her trembling head and whispered something inaudible. He leaned closer to her, tightening his reassuring grip on her. “Kat, what happened?”

  “Nothing,” she mumbled. “Nothing happened. I thought— I thought that something would happen. I thought.... I called the police, Alex, but they said that there wasn’t anything really that they could do. The doorbell rang, and the texts kept coming, and they said that it was my turn. My turn, Alex! And I don’t know who it is. I don’t know....”

  She dissolved into tears again, and he let her lean against him and weep, quivering into his chest as the worries and fears overflowed and poured from her eyes. Still holding her with one arm, he sent the other questing around the doorway for the light switch, then flicked on the living-room lights.

  With the lights on, he could see more of the mess. In some ways, it wasn’t that bad—just a few books on the floor, as he had first suspected. Other things, now visible, caused more alarm. Feces, it seemed, was in the corner of the room—and based on the smell he assumed it was Geegee’s. More worrisome was the sight of his pistol lying on the couch.

  “Kat,” he said, speaking slowly, “are you okay?”

  She nodded against his chest.

  “What happened?” he asked again.

  She finally looked up at him, and he tried to keep his face calm at the sight of her eyes. They looked red and raw, as if sand had been rubbed in them. Heavy black lines of fatigue ringed each one. Makeup had been dragged by her tears into dark streaks down the sides of her face, where they had stained her pale cheeks. She didn’t look like herself at all.

  “I don’t know,” she said again. “I got— I got so scared, Alex. I was so scared. I was so scared. So tired....”

  Suddenly, she was falling, going limp in his arms. Alarmed, Alex hugged her tightly and then half dragged, half carried her into the house, where he lay her on the couch. She was already asleep, breathing deeply. Her mouth, which had been frozen in a grimace, relaxed peacefully.

  Alex rubbed a hand through his hair. After Kat’s mom had called and said she was having a rough time, he’d sent Kat a number of texts, to which she had never responded. It had been a trick to have his schedule altered, but he’d managed it and raced home early. And this was what he got back to.

  Kat’s chest rose and fell in the steady rhythm of deep sleep. She seemed physically all right—just exhausted—but the look in her eyes had frightened him. Obviously something was wrong. This worry that had gripped her was so much worse than he had imagined. But he had heard plenty from other people about anxiety building up during pregnancy. Maybe, then, this was normal for a first pregnancy? Could it be? He looked around. The house was....

  He didn’t even know what to think. He bent down and started picking up the books, returning them one at a time to their places on the squat bookshelf. Then he picked up her phone. He tried to illuminate the screen, but nothing happened.

  That was why she hadn’t responded to her texts—her phone was off. He tried turning it on, but it didn’t respond. The batteries were dead, then. He carried it into their bedroom and plugged it in, then returned to the front room to pick up the books.

  As he placed the last one on the shelf, he remembered Geegee and stood up.

  “Geegee? Geegee?”

  The sound of paws shuffling on linoleum sounded from the kitchen, and Alex stepped around the corner.

  The side door was completely blocked off. The armchair had been shoved against it, and then the table braced against it and the wall. Bits of stuffing from the armchair lay scattered across the floor, and some of those pieces of fluff were now soggy with urine that had pooled on the linoleum. In the corner of the room lay Geegee, who looked up at him with frightened, shame-filled eyes.

  Alex felt his face soften sympathetically. He knelt down slowly. “Come here, Geegee,” he whispered, edging closer to the dog. “Come here, girl.”

  Her head weighed down with embarrassment, the dog rose and walked to him. He scratched gently at her head and whispered, “It’s okay, Geegee. It’s okay. It wasn’t your fault.”

  Then he looked around the kitchen, his gaze introspective. After a moment he pulled out his phone and placed a call.

  ACT II

  1

  Something bumped Kat, waking her. Before she opened her eyes, she could feel that things were different. She felt clean, the gritty, greasy feeling gone from her body. Her cheeks were warm, too, with blood and color flowing through them once more. She was slightly reclined, her hands in her lap, and a belt over her waist and shoulder.

  Her first thought was that she’d been committed to an institution for insane people, those who were a threat to themselves or others. Then the car bumped again, and she realized where she was. Her eyes flut
tered open to the view of a bumpy, gravel road stretching away through a tunnel of tall, overhanging trees.

  Other than opening her eyes, Kat hadn’t really moved yet. In her peripheral she could see Alex at the wheel, steering around the larger potholes with his left hand. His right lay between them, resting atop Geegee’s head which poked up from the back seat.

  Kat raised a hand to rub at her eyes, and Alex looked over at her.

  “Oh, you’re awake!”

  “Yeah,” she yawned, “I suppose I am.”

  “Sorry,” he said. “I was trying to avoid the bigger bumps, but this road’s pretty bad.”

  “It’s fine,” she said. But it wasn’t. She still felt awfully tired. “How long have I been asleep?”

  Alex glanced at the clock on the dash, then said, “About four hours or so.”

  Kat blinked heavily. “Really?”

  Alex nodded. “I mean, you were basically asleep that whole time. I changed your clothes and had you shower—and I think you were awake for that, but it was hard to tell. You seemed...well, out of it, to say the least.” He spared a second from the road to look at her. “How are you feeling?”

  “Tired,” she said, shifting in her seat. “What time is it?”

  “It’s one-fifteen.”

  “What day is it?”

  “Friday.”

  She lifted her head. “Friday? What day did you leave?”

  “Wednesday.”

  She rubbed at her eyes again. “Wow. I am so confused. I don’t think I managed to sleep at all while you were gone, but.... Oh, I don’t know,” she sighed. “It got really jumbled in my head.”

  “Yeah,” Alex said, softening his voice, “about that. Are you alright? I mean, what happened? Really? Cuz it kind of freaked me out when I got home to have the house all messed up and you fainting in the doorway.”

  Kat looked down at her hands, thinking. She moved to lay one of them on Geegee’s head, beside Alex’s hand, but the dog drew back a little, and Kat set her hand down in her own lap again instead, then said, “I just got really scared, I think. It was like I couldn’t handle it. I mean, the house—it was just so quiet and empty. And the day that you left, I thought that this guy had followed me home. I called the police, but then that didn’t make me feel any better. I kept on thinking that I was hearing somebody outside the house. I just....” She looked out her window for a moment, then sighed. “I don’t know. I’m sorry, though. I feel so embarrassed.”

  “But do you still feel scared?”

  She watched the passing trees for a while in silence, then finally said, “I don’t think so. Not now that you’re here. I think.... Well, I wonder if it’s just being pregnant. You know?”

  He shrugged. “I’ve never been pregnant before, so I guess I can’t really say. But it could be that.” He turned in his seat, glancing behind him to where Geegee lay. “I brought your book. I don’t know if you’d want to look it up or anything—see if people feel more anxious or something when they’re pregnant. It’s just on the back seat.”

  “Maybe later,” she said, leaning her head back against the chair once more. She rolled to face him again, a thought finally occurring to her. “Where are we going?”

  “A surprise.”

  “Alex.”

  “Fine,” he said, giving her a tired smile. “We’re going on a second honeymoon.”

  “Be serious.”

  “I am,” he said. “I wanted to do it anyways. Then, when I got home and saw how stressed out you were, I decided it was something we needed to do—both of us needed it. Thought we could get away, relax, spend some time without worrying about fixing up a nursery or anything like that. One last chance to get out and just be us before there’s a baby in the mix.”

  “Well, just us and Geegee.”

  “Of course,” he said, rubbing the dog’s head. “We couldn’t just leave Geegee behind. But that’s different.”

  “I suppose so,” Kat said. “I feel...guilty. This is going to cost a lot of money, isn’t it?”

  Alex shook his head. “Not really. We’re going to the same cabin we went to when we first got married. So, we’re not spending that much money.”

  “Oh,” she said. She remembered that it had seemed like a lot of money when they’d first gone, though she had intentionally forgotten exactly how much money. The guilt lingered, gnawing steadily at the edges of her thoughts. “Are we almost there?”

  “Not quite,” Alex said. “There’s still another forty minutes or so to go. Why don’t you try and sleep?”

  She grunted, turning again in her seat. Her body felt sore, though, and the seat uncomfortable. “I don’t know if I can,” she finally said.

  “Okay, well, I guess we could talk, then.”

  The way he said it signaled something to her—the slight hesitancy in his voice heralding the arrival of a subject he meant to discuss with her, but did not wish to raise. “What is it?”

  “It’s just, uh,” he began, suddenly becoming very focused on the dips and bumps in the road, “I made some phone calls, checked up on our insurance policy and stuff, while you were sleeping. And I went ahead and set up an appointment for you. For when we get back.” He stole a glance at her, then looked back to the road. “I thought, maybe, we should just make sure that everything is okay—that you and the baby are all right.”

  “What do you mean? What appointment?”

  “I can’t remember the doctor’s name, but he’s very good. Lots of great reviews. I thought, maybe, we should meet with a psychologist, just to be sure. I mean, I know that pregnancy is a rough time, but I thought....”

  She nodded slowly. “That’s... probably a good idea. Thanks.”

  “Yeah. I’ll have work off, so, I could even go with you, if you wanted me to.”

  “Sure. That might be good,” Kat mumbled.

  Alex lifted his hand from Geegee’s head and let it rest on Kat’s hand, giving it a firm squeeze. “I love you. I just want to make sure that everything’s okay.”

  “Yeah, definitely,” she said. Then she shifted again in her chair and lay back with her eyes closed. “I still feel really tired,” she mumbled. “Maybe, I will be able to get some sleep.”

  “Good. That would be good. You seemed really tired when I got home.”

  “I was. I’m going to try and sleep now.”

  Alex drove quietly for a few seconds longer, then placed his hand back on Geegee’s head. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll wake you when we get there.”

  2

  A few stray twigs cracked and snapped as the tires ground to a halt atop them. Alex killed the engine, then leaned back and rubbed a hand over his face. Kat lay beside him. Maybe asleep, maybe just upset with him for setting up the appointment without talking to her about it beforehand. He could deal with that—she’d get over it, get back to normal, and life would go on.

  Dr. Cranston had agreed to see them as soon as possible. Unfortunately, that wasn’t until the beginning of the following week, and Alex hadn’t been sure if Kat could wait that long. Then Dr. Cranston had suggested that they get away until then—nothing too exciting. Something familiar and relaxing, but just a bit different. So Alex had taken them here, to the cabin, somewhere they could reset themselves a little bit. Perhaps, by their appointment, she’d be herself again.

  Geegee sat up behind him and whined softly, looking out into the forest.

  “You see a squirrel? Huh?” He reached behind him and opened the door for her. “There you go. Don’t run off.”

  Geegee hopped down and started sniffing around, pausing every few paces to pee on this and that. Alex couldn’t help but smile as he watched her. Dogs had it lucky, living simple, uncomplicated lives. They just did what they did. It sounded nice to him.

  Alex reached over and patted Kat on the shoulder. “Kat, we’re here. Wake up.” When she started to stir, Alex pushed his door open and climbed out, stretching his arms up into the sky and behind him. Even though it was mid afternoon now,
the air still felt fresh and lively, now that they were so far out from any major cities.

  “Kat? You awake?”

  “Yeah,” she grumbled.

  “You feeling okay?”

  “I shoulda taken a Dramamine,” she said, leaning forwards in her seat and cupping her hands around her face. “Sleeping in the car was a bad idea.”

  Alex sighed. He wasn’t sure if that complaint had been directed at him or not, but as the person who had loaded her into the car while she was basically asleep, he felt slightly attacked by it, and offered a short, “Sorry,” in response.

  “No, it’s fine. It’s not your fault,” Kat said. “I just hope this headache will go away sooner than later.”

  “Well, maybe get out and stretch? The air smells amazing. I’m sure it’ll help you to feel better.”

  “I hope so.”

  Slowly, Kat drew one hand away from her face and felt for the door handle, her eyes still squeezed shut. Then she pushed the door open, returned the hand to the side of her face, and moaned.

  Alex took another breath of the fresh air, then started walking after Geegee, who had moved from bush to tree to bush with dizzying speed, smelling everything as she cut a zig-zagging route in front of the cabin, across the dirt driveway, and then back up towards the winding country road that it branched off from, wagging her tail as she went.

  Trees stretched up alongside the driveway, creating green canyon walls that were kept apart by a ribbon of bright, cloudless blue overhead. Those walls of thick green wrapped around the house as well, imposing themselves on the already small yard. This wasn’t a cabin in a woodland meadow, with space around it—it was a cabin in the woods. Secluded, quiet, snug, and peaceful.

  Alex finally caught up with Geegee and directed her back to the house. She reversed her zig-zag pattern and started back. Alex stopped beside the car and opened the trunk, withdrawing a rolling luggage piece and a smaller duffel bag before closing it. The luggage piece failed to roll over the bumpy dirt driveway, so he lifted it into the air and stepped up to the passenger’s door.