Cleaving Souls

by Chauncey Rogers

  “I’ve already got the keys,” he said, looking down at the back of Kat’s head. “We can go in. If you need to lay down, I’m sure it will be more comfortable inside the cabin than in the car.”

  “You’re probably right,” Kat said. “I just don’t want to move.”

  “Do I need to come back and carry you?” As soon as he said it, he wished he hadn’t. He’d meant to make the offer sincerely, but too much of his own tiredness had poisoned the question, tainting it with a tone of annoyance.

  “No, I’m fine,” Kat said. “Just, wait a second.”

  The bags pulled at his arms and cut off the circulation to his fingers, but he waited. He waited for her to gently push herself up and out of the seat and then lean against the car, her hands still on her head.

  “I really am sorry about your headache,” he said, this time with the intended level of sincerity and concern.

  “It’s alright,” she said. “It’s getting better. I think that you were right—the fresh air is helping.” She gave him a tight smile, then looked at the house and said, “Shall we?”

  “After you, milady,” he said, making a small bow towards her.

  Kat’s smile loosened, and she walked past him. They could perhaps fake some degree of cheery playfulness and maybe end up feeling genuinely happy. This was supposed to be a second honeymoon, after all.

  Alex followed behind Kat over the quaint flagstone walkway and up the steps to the wooden porch. Then he set the luggage piece down and fished in his pocket for the keys he’d picked up before their arrival.

  “Remember this place?” he said.

  She nodded. “Hard to believe it’s been five years.”

  He unlocked the door and eased it open, savoring the rustic creaking of its hinges. “It’s like going back in time,” he said, “coming here.”

  “Back to our honeymoon?”

  “Yeah,” he said, putting a hand on her waist.

  Kat’s smile finally finished its transformation and became a warm, genuine one. “Look at the furniture. It’s more like we’re going back to the seventies.”

  He chuckled, then dropped his hand and picked up the suitcase. “You’re right. I’m sure that’s when this place last got anything new put in it. Still,” he said, stepping inside and looking around, “they keep it in pretty good shape. Looks just like I remember it.”

  Kat moved beside him and took in the cabin smell—old furniture, clean dust, and sunshine. “Was it this small when we first came here?” she said, looking at the cozy front room. A couch sat against the far wall, and a rocking chair stood beside the door. In the opposite corner a small television rested on a stand—or, at least, the screen was small. The vacuum-tube TV looked so much bulkier than what she was used to seeing. By the television was the door into the bedroom. On the other side of the sofa, the doorway into the bathroom. And to their right was the kitchen and dining room combination.

  Alex leaned over and kissed Kat’s cheek. “I’ll get our bags into the room, okay?”

  Without waiting for a response, he hefted the bags through the room, bumping up against the sofa on his way to the narrow door. Kat followed behind him and set herself slowly down atop the couch, laying back to place her head on its armrest. Then her stomach growled.

  “Alex, do we have any food?”

  “A bit,” he said from around the corner. “I grabbed some stuff for dinner and breakfast tomorrow. Then we’ll need to go into the little town, probably. I rented the place for the weekend, so we’ll for sure want to get some more food.” She heard a bag bounce atop old mattress springs, then a zipper being pulled. “Why? Are you hungry now?”

  “Yep.”

  “Hot dogs sound good?”

  “Actually, they sound amazing.”

  “Good,” Alex said as he entered the front room, “because that’s what we’ve got. And, s’mores stuff. I’ll finish bringing the stuff in, then setup a fire out back.”

  3

  Kat turned her marshmallow slowly over the fire, watching for the brown blisters to appear along its side. Beneath it, the fire crackled and one of the logs popped, sending a dance of sparks into the air where they quickly faded into nothing.

  The sun had set down a long time ago, losing itself first among the thicker branches of the trees, and then hiding behind the cabin before disappearing for the night. They’d already finished their dinner of cheap hot dogs by then, but had kept their places around the small campfire anyway, talking sometimes and listening to the night songs in between topics. Above them, more and more stars had crept out, each taking its time and making certain that the boastful sun had retired before letting their own twinkling lights sparkle in the deep purple sky.

  Kat stared into the little flames. They relaxed her. The terror she had felt back in Peascombe seemed far away now. She’d been so tired, so out of sorts, that it didn’t even seem like it had been her. More like a dream, or maybe the memories of an operating room just before they put you under. Completely detached from her now.

  Alex sat on the other side of the flames. Geegee lay beside him, her head resting on her front legs. Now and again, something in the darkness surrounding them would make a noise sufficient to rouse her interest, and she’d raise her head and stare into the impenetrable shadows, but her curiosity would never be long lived. She was an urban dog in a rural playground, and she’d ran herself tired since they’d arrived.

  Alex reached down and picked up the marshmallow bag, catching Kat’s attention.

  “You’re having another one?”

  “Sure,” he said, worming his fingers through the bag’s little hole. “I’m eating for two now, after all.”

  Kat snorted. “Yeah, pretty sure that’s not how it works.”

  “Could be,” Alex said, pulling out his marshmallow. “Should be. You want me to grab you one?”

  “No thanks. I’m still cooking this one.”

  Alex chuckled while he skewered his marshmallow. “I think I could slow-cook a roast faster than you can make a s’more,” he said, then he held his marshmallow directly in the flames, raising it up a second later as a fireball on the end of his roaster.

  “I don’t like them burnt,” Kat said.

  “Don’t knock it til you’ve tried it,” Alex said, watching the flame eat away at his blackened and bubbling treat.

  “I have,” Kat said, “and I don’t like it. Besides, the burnt food is bad for the baby. I don’t want her to have cancer.”

  “Or him,” Alex said. “Speaking of which, I thought of a name.”

  “Okay,” Kat said, hesitating. She had her name ideas—family names, ones she’d picked out before they’d even met. Not surprisingly, Alex had his own ideas about baby names.

  “Evan, after my granddad,” Alex said.

  “Huh,” Kat said. “And if she’s a girl?”

  “Same thing, only a girl version: Evangeline. Like that actress you like.”

  Kat thought for a moment, then shook her head as she turned her roaster in her hands. “I don’t think so. I like the actress, not her name. Besides, Evangeline sounds like some kind of citrus to me.”

  “A citrus?” Alex said as he fiddled with the Graham Cracker box.

  “Yeah, like a tangelo or something.”

  “A tangerine?”

  “Yeah, that’s it.”

  “Eh, I guess it kind of does,” Alex conceded. “Well, we could still use Evan, though.”

  Kat shook her head again. “I’m pretty sure Evan was the kid who got suspended from my fourth-grade class for writing on the bathroom wall in feces.”

  “So?”

  Kat nearly dropped her marshmallow into the flames as she looked across at Alex. “Are you serious? We can’t use that name. Every time I say our baby’s name, I’d think about poop on the wall.”

  Alex shrugged. “Seems there’s a fair chance of poop getting on the wall at some point, anyways. It would be a shame to pass up on an otherwise perfectly good name. Just lie and sa
y you’ll think about it. Please?”

  “Fine. I’ll think about it.”

  “Thanks,” Alex said, looking down to his completed s’more. He spun it for a second, deciding which corner to bite first, then just dove in, squeezing the s’more’s white guts out its sides as he bit down.

  Kat decided she’d waited long enough for her own s’more, and pulled it back from the fire.

  “Need the stuff?” Alex asked around his food.

  “Yeah.”

  Alex stood and pinched the Hershey’s and Graham Crackers between two fingers, then leaned around the fire and placed them by Kat’s side before sitting heavily back atop his log. She picked out a cracker and chocolate square and carefully constructed her s’more, smashing it down before biting into it. It squeezed out the sides just the same.

  They stopped talking again as they ate. When Alex began sucking the mallow off his fingers, Kat pretended not to be annoyed by the smacking sounds he made, instead leaning back to look up at the stars. They were beautiful. It seemed a pity that she had to go somewhere so remote to really appreciate their magnificence, but back home, closer to civilization, the light pollution was too strong, and it snuffed out the weaker, smaller stars. The night sky without those dimmer stars was like listening to only the melody line of a great symphony—it was still pretty, but it lacked its full grandeur.

  “You’re not mad at me, are you?”

  Kat looked back to Alex. “What?”

  “For scheduling a visit with a doctor, about your anxiety and stuff. You’re not mad, are you?”

  Kat held his eyes for a moment, then shifted them down to the embers at her feet as she evaluated her emotions. “No,” she finally said. “I’m not.” She looked up at him again. “I was, but I think that getting in to talk with a professional will be good. I don’t know if it’s just this pregnancy or what, but I was freaking out. I’m feeling a lot better, but maybe it would still be good to go in and see somebody, just in case.”

  Alex smiled, relieved. “Well, that’s good—that you’re feeling better, I mean. It really kind of freaked me out when I got home. You seemed like you were okay and all, but it was weird. I’m sure it was just stress and stuff, especially since you seem much more like yourself now. But, it was just really scary to see you and the house like that. Maybe soon, after this trimester’s over, you’ll be able to ride along with me again? Doesn’t the nausea get better after the first trimester is over?”

  Kat shrugged. “It can. Maybe it will, maybe it won’t. I wonder if, once we tell my parents, my mom or Susie would come and visit, just to keep me company and help me get ready more.” She looked down again and poked at the embers with her roaster. “I don’t know. I think something like that would be nice.”

  “Yeah, we’ll see,” Alex said.

  Kat squeezed her eyes shut and yawned, then sniffed. She stank of smoke and insect repellent.

  “I think I’m going to go take a shower.”

  “Good idea,” Alex said. “I think I might join you.” He stood and grabbed the bucket of water beside his stool. “Ready for me to put it out?”

  “Hang on,” Kat said. She picked up the crackers and chocolate, then grabbed the bag of garbage and moved towards the house. “Okay, go for it.”

  Alex dumped the water out onto the fire pit’s warm glow, and the night-curtain fell over them as they walked to the cabin door.

  4

  “Kat. Kat. Kat.”

  Kat’s eyes opened slowly. She wasn’t awake yet, but she was getting there.

  “Kat. Kitty Kat.”

  Her eyelids finally drew completely back, reacting to her name sounding in the dark.

  “Kat. Kat.”

  Beside her, Alex slept peacefully, breathing in and out with the slow and steady rhythm of his dreams. Her name drifted to her ears from the other room, quiet but distinct.

  “Kat. Kitty Kat.”

  Kat took a deep breath as her heart took off in her chest. Alex was here. She was probably just imagining things—there was nothing to fear. It was just her mind and ears playing tricks on her.

  “Kat. Kaaat.”

  “Alex,” Kat hissed, gently nudging her husband with her elbow. He rolled slightly over and his breathing altered its tempo. She elbowed him again, this time harder. “Alex.”

  “Wha—” he mumbled.

  “Could you go and check on that noise, please? It sounds like...” she breathed in slowly, wondering what to say. Then she decided to be forthright. “It sounds like someone saying my name, and it’s making it so I can’t sleep. Could you just go check on it, please?”

  “Somebody saying....” He drifted off, obviously not fully awake. This time she put some real energy behind the elbow.

  “Alex.”

  “What?” Now he was awake. Nobody snapped with irritability without being at least semi-conscious.

  “Please go check that noise. It’s scaring me.”

  “Fine,” he said, kicking back the sheets. His feet hit the hardwood floor with a fleshy thud, then he sent his hand groping numbly over the nightstand in search of a light. He found a phone, plugged in and charging, and flicked the screen on. The backlight glowed sufficiently to illuminate his path as he staggered out of the room.

  “Kat... Kat.... Kat....”

  As Alex’s footsteps wandered through the little cabin, checking each of the rooms, the sound of her name slowed, and then stopped. The regular night sounds fell back in around the cabin, and Kat began to wonder if she’d heard anything as Alex came back into the room, rubbing at his face.

  “Did it sound like it was coming from over there?” he said, waving his arm generally towards the cabin’s far end.

  “Yeah. It sounded like somebody saying my name.”

  Alex nodded. “Yep. Kinda did sound like that, but it was just one of the bushes, brushing up against the window.”

  “Are you sure?” Kat said.

  Alex nodded as he worked on plugging the phone back in. “Yeah, I’m sure. It must be a little windy outside or something. The little branches were just smacking up against the window, going tik, tik, tik,” he said, flicking the headboard.

  Kat burrowed down into the blankets. “Okay,” she said, “I guess that makes sense.”

  “Of course it does,” Alex said, climbing back into the bed. “That’s because that’s what it was.” He cleared his throat then scooted close up beside her. “Besides, if somebody had been snooping around our house in Peascombe, there’s no way that they’d have known that we’d gone here. I didn’t tell anyone we were coming here for the weekend, did you?”

  “No,” Kat whispered.

  “So there. Nobody could have followed us up here. It’s just us and Geegee, and she’s sleeping right in front of the door.” He yawned. “Just try and get some sleep. We’ll go do something fun tomorrow.”

  “Okay.”

  A few minutes later, Alex’s breathing had returned to the slow and steady pace she knew so well. At the other end of the house, the twigs continued to scrape intermittently at the window, and now Kat had no trouble believing that was, indeed, what the sound had been, and she eventually fell back into sleep as well.

  5

  Kat slipped into her sweatpants, rummaged through the duffel bag for a minute, then pulled out Alex’s green hoodie and threw it on. Alex still lay asleep. It was just as well—usually neither of them would be up this early. But the sun had risen, the forest just beyond the cabin walls had woken up, and Kat had gotten a good night of sleep, relatively speaking. She wanted to be outside now, while the day was still fresh and new. She wanted to walk through the forest mists before the sun burned them away.

  “Come on, Geegee.”

  Geegee ran ahead to the door, where she sat with her tail wagging, watching Kat as she laced up her running shoes. She probably wouldn’t run—when was the last time she had, anyway?—but it didn’t hurt to be ready, in case she miraculously found herself wanting to.

  Kat opened the doo
r and they both stepped out into the cool morning air. Geegee immediately bolted down off the porch and chased after a squirrel. Kat took her time, stepping slowly down the dew-flecked steps. The air felt fresh and enlivening, and she soaked it in happily.

  Geegee had already given up on the squirrel, the little rodent having ran up a tree as soon as the dog had noticed it. Now Geegee was on to the next thing, running her nose along the ground and following the meandering scents of the forest’s nocturnal inhabitants, chasing their phantoms this way and that in a delighted ecstasy of aromas. Then she stopped and looked down the driveway, clearly focusing in on something she had either seen or heard.

  Kat followed Geegee’s gaze, but there was nothing to be seen at that distance—nothing but a gray wall of drifting mist, through which trees and bushes showed only pale, ghostly silhouettes.

  “What is it, Geegee?”

  The dog whined, twitching with anticipation and struggling to control herself.

  “Do you see a raccoon?”

  Something about the question—perhaps Kat’s intonation—acted as a trigger for Geegee, and the dog fired off with incredible speed, pounding her way down the driveway and disappearing into the mist a moment later.

  Kat watched for the dog to return, listening for the sound of someone’s voice, for Geegee to bark, even for the sound of her—or some other animal—to go crashing through the underbrush and into the woods. But none of that came back to her. It seemed, for a strange moment, as if Geegee hadn’t just disappeared from sight, but had disappeared altogether upon plunging into the morning mist.

  “Geegee?”

  Kat stepped slowly forwards, and the rocks beneath her feet seemed to grind unusually loud against one another, almost to the point of echoing in the morning stillness.