by Dale Mayer
Easing his gaze from the image in front of him, he looked up and glanced down the room, catching Jon’s sharp features, his quirky grin, his guileless eyes. His hand never hesitated.
If he was superstitious, he’d have tossed the paper away or better yet, burned it. But he’d started the picture consciously. He remembered making that decision to start on the right-hand side of the page center but slightly lower. He just didn’t remember much else. That was because he’d been busy watching Robin.
Emotions swamped him, and his hand slowed. He shaded the shadow side of Jon’s face, added a rough patch to his elbow. Thickened a wrinkle on his shirt.
His mind turned over what he’d seen. What he’d felt. What he’d witnessed. And they’d only been here for an hour…
Chapter 8
Robin tried to stay in the same place and watch the children. Tried but failed. Inside it was as if a scab she’d placed over her painful memories had been ripped off before the wound had a chance to heal. Memories of families. Memories of her brother. Of laughter. Of pain. Of being normal. Of never going to be normal again.
If she let it, the pain would cripple her. Send her back to a dangerous time if she wasn’t careful. She’d had no family to hold her to reassure her that all would be well. No familiar face smiling lovingly at her. No loving voices telling her she’d be okay. She had always woken up alone, reliving the loss of her family each and every time.
She rubbed her eyes at the reality of her situation. She was alone. Right now, surrounded by children as she was, she’d never felt more lonely.
“It doesn’t make any sense,” she whispered.
There was a sudden stillness beside her. She glanced over at Sean, realizing he’d heard her. And his hand had stopped.
Hence the odd silence. The odd scratching sound had been going on in the background. A low level grating noise she’d barely noticed…until it stopped.
She wanted to look at his pictures, but for the same reason she didn’t want to see any of it. She was scared he was sketching something she wasn’t. But she was more scared that he’d see more than she wanted him to see and sketch exactly what she was.
A coward.
“Can we leave yet,” she said in a harsh whisper.
Sean looked at her then cast a quick glance around the room before dropping his gaze to the page. “I’m almost finished.”
She nodded but kept her eyes averted. How long had they been here? How long were they supposed to stay? She had no idea what arrangements Jenna had made.
“Okay. We’re good.” Sean stood up. The sound of his chair being pushed back pulled her out of her reverie. She stood up quickly, almost knocking her chair over. She hated her awkwardness. Hated the return of that instinct to run. That need to get the hell away.
Then as if a herd of elephants were rushing toward her, she realized several kids had raced toward them.
A fine tremor rippled through her. A faint film rose on her skin. And her breath caught in the back of her throat. She needed to get out of here.
Now.
*
Sean watched Robin escape from the room ahead of the kids. Again. It seemed like her normal defense when a situation became untenable. And apparently a group of kids was untenable. He packed up his pencils and tossed the bag over his shoulder as he was suddenly surrounded by the group of boys. “Goodbye guys.”
“Bye,” came a chorus from around him.
“Can we see the picture?”
He laughed. “I’ll show you on our next visit.”
“K.”
“Are you coming back tomorrow?”
“Yes.” That last question came from Jon. Sean grinned and waved at him. “See you tomorrow.”
And he walked out. He had no idea where Robin had gone, but there were few places she could go. As it was, he found her waiting by the elevators, leaning against the wall with her eyes closed.
“Ready?”
She nodded but didn’t look at him.
Silently, they moved downstairs and out to the parking lot. She got in with no trouble, almost uncaring, as if she was bothered by something much bigger.
He had no idea what. Or why. And was running short on empathy at this point. They’d both faced a few demons today. He couldn’t believe the drawings he’d been working on. He was on a high. She was on a low.
Somewhere there had to be a meeting ground. Surely.
Instinctively, he stared down at his fingers and flexed them. Maybe the long break from sketching had actually helped his skill level improve.
He started the engine and drove back to the hotel. He checked the time. It was after 4pm already. They’d ended up being at the hospital for three hours. It had seemed to be half that time. A quick glance at Robin’s clenched fists and he realized that for her, it had likely seemed twice as long as it had been.
Just minutes from the vibrant core of Vancouver city and only a few blocks from the hotel, he said, “Feel better?”
She never answered. He looked over to see her staring straight ahead, her face blank.
“Robin?”
No answer.
He really didn’t know how if he should push or not. He was working on it but hated to get involved. Given a chance, he avoided people. Avoided attachments. He was a loner by choice.
So what the hell had happened to him that he was even caring enough to ask?
He pulled into the parking lot and turned off the engine. He turned to Robin, who still sat motionless. “Look, today must have been tough on you. I don’t know what happened to scare you back inside yourself, but obviously something did. If you don’t want to talk to me – fine. Then talk to Jenna at least. Talk to someone.”
Slowly, she turned her head and stared at him. He winced at the bruised look on her face, the moisture glistening in the corner of her eye, and had a powerful want to know what had caused it.
And she had a powerful need to say it. To give voice to that agony inside, to admit it existed. To give it life that she couldn’t.
His gut twisted. But not for him.
He’d been there before. Figured to never return but watching her…God, it brought up all of his own shit. Ha. Determinedly, he squashed that back down deep into his psyche.
So many people gave into their fear. And when fear took over, they lost the ability to fight. Then it was over before it started.
Something Robin appeared to have done.
He’d used anger to solve his problems. Not any better than Robin’s method, but preferable as it empowered him. It was, however, difficult to control. Giving into the anger blinded him. And if he got in too deep, the rage made him incapable of rational reason – something he had to be mindful of. Still, anger had gotten him through the worst times of his life.
That it was just a front for the real problems didn’t matter. This system worked for him.
Robin didn’t appear to have an angry bone in her.
Forgiveness was the only way forward for both of them.
Robin might manage it in her lifetime.
In his…fuck that.
“Let’s get you inside. Maybe a hot shower before dinner will help.”
He hopped out and walked around the truck. He opened her door and nudged her forward. Silently, they moved through the hotel until Robin stepped into her room and locked the door. Standing outside, Sean heard the snick of the lock. Good. He walked toward his room, his cell phone already in his hand. Once inside, he called Jenna.
Chapter 9
Robin waited until she heard Sean’s footsteps head back down the hallway. She collapsed backwards on her bed.
“Damn it.”
She wanted to quit. Just walk away and count this as a bad deal. One she couldn’t deal with. She’d tried and it didn’t work. So she’d walk away. Try again another day. Another year maybe. Because that’s how long it would be before she tried something like this again.
There was a knock on the door.
She ignored it.
The knock came again. “Robin? It’s Jenna.”
She groaned. She didn’t need this. She wasn’t ready. Everything was too raw. Too vulnerable.
“Robin, I’m not going to go away.”
“Damn it.”
She got up off the bed and walked to the door. She unlocked it and opened it to face her. “I’m tired.”
“And stressed, and you’ve had a shock.”
Jenna’s voice was gentle. Caring.
Tears filled her eyes. She shook her head and backed into her room. Jenna followed. Robin sat down on the edge of her bed. She brushed away the tears. Jenna sat down beside her. Close but not touching. Robin desperately wanted a hug but knew it would be her undoing. “Tell me what happened.”
“Nothing happened,” she cried. “I sat there for hours in complete silence locked away in fear.” She threw up her hands in defeat.
“Of the children?”
“I don’t know. First the truck ride…maybe that started it.” She tried to sort it out in her head, but it was still so dead inside. Unclear. Like walking through a fog. Or a land mine. She could never quite forget that Jenna would be analyzing everything she said. She gave a broken laugh. Then again, that’s what she’d come here for.
“The hospital was the next button. The smell…it got to me immediately and after that, it got worse. I felt as if I walked through quicksand, going deeper and deeper with every step.” She closed her eyes, hating the trip back through her miserable day. “I shut down before I got into the ward.”
“So you went in afraid and expecting the worst.”
Robin lifted her head to gaze at Jenna. “How could I not? You know the last time kids saw my face, they ran screaming from me.”
Jenna smiled gently. “And did it happen today?”
A broken laugh escaped. “I didn’t let it. I never let anyone see me.” She shook her head in an exaggerated movement, highlighting the hairstyle across her face. “I kept my back to everyone, said nothing, and was the basic living statue you’d see on any street corner.” She frowned at Jenna, finally understanding. “So no, it didn’t.”
“So then it was different than last time.”
“Not really,” Robin defended herself. “It was just as bad.”
“Was it though?” Jenna was gently persistent. “Not really. You weren’t laughed at. The children didn’t mock you. They didn’t run from you in terror.”
“But I still hated it,” Robin cried. “And it could have happened.”
“Sure, but you hated it because you were expecting a disaster. Waiting for it to happen.”
Robin swallowed and tried to stare back defiantly and couldn’t quite make it. It took several tries then finally she managed to clear her dry throat. “You don’t know what it was like…the fear choking me to the point where I can’t see or hear or feel anything.”
“I do understand.” Jenna reached out a hand and gently rubbed her shoulder. “The thing is, you went there. On your own.”
“And failed,” she said bitterly. “Miserably.”
“Oh no! Not at all,” Jenna exclaimed. “Don’t ever think that.”
Robin threw herself backwards on the bed. “Are you kidding? That’s the only thing you could call this. It was terrible. Publicly visible in body, but definitely concealing my face and hiding out, completely terrorized, inside.”
“What did the kids do?”
“Nothing,” she cried. “They did nothing.”
“Nothing? As in they didn’t speak to you? They crowded about Sean or they took off and did their own thing?”
Robin closed her eyes and tried to remember exactly what had happened. “They stayed down at their end, then I turned my back on them and didn’t see anything else. After a while, a little boy walked over to see what Sean was doing. He was a big enough shock. I couldn’t look at the others after him, so I have no idea if they were looking at me.” She shrugged. “But everyone does.”
“And if everyone does, why wear your hair like that? Why not pull it back so they can see? Then they will see and finally stop trying to look.”
“Not likely.” Robin ran her hands over her face. “That’s not the way it works. They look but because they can’t get close enough to really see enough, and because it’s not polite to stare, they constantly try to get a clearer look. It’s like always being under watchful eyes. As if they’re waiting for me to give them all a chance to see just how bad the damage is.”
“If it’s just children, then let them. They will be honest. They will exclaim and ooh and aah, maybe cry out a little, and they will get over it.”
“I’m sure they will – eventually. But in the meantime, they will scream and have night terrors. I can’t be responsible for that!” She shuddered and swiped at the tears dripping down her cheeks. “I couldn’t sleep for months after those kids ran screaming from me.”
“But that was then. This is now,” Jenna said firmly. “Your face has progressed from that time, and you’re a different person.”
“No,” Robin replied. “I’m not. I’m still a monster.”
*
Sean sat in the dining room and brooded. No one came close. Good thing. He had no idea what he was supposed to do about Robin. He hoped he’d done the right thing by calling Jenna. That’s what she was here for. That’s what they were all here for. By rights he should be rejoicing that Robin had a breakthrough…or something. He just hoped it didn’t break Robin.
In a black mood, he ordered a beer and sat quietly in the corner and drank. He should have food, but he wasn’t hungry. He felt like he should have done more. But she wouldn’t talk to him, so what more could he do? That’s why he didn’t like people clogging up his life. They were complications he didn’t want.
And he wouldn’t have let Robin get under his skin if it wasn’t for the constant reminders about Paris. He’d have known how to help his sister. Robin was a stranger. Less of one now than she had been earlier, but still a stranger in many ways. Or rather, he felt he understood her more because of Paris, but she’d consider him a stranger. And that was a different story.
A plate of roast beef and veggies arrived in front of him. He looked up at the waitress in surprise. “I didn’t order this.”
“Jenna ordered it for you,” she said with a smile. “I’ll bring your salad in a moment.”
Surprised, he watched her stop by another table and take their order. The smells wafting up from his plate smelled great. He was hungry. The food would go a long ways to help fill him up. The emotional pit wouldn’t be so easy to fill, but at least he finally admitted that maybe the pit needed filling.
He took his first bite and smiled as Jenna sat down at the seat opposite him. “Thanks for dinner.”
“Thanks for the heads up on Robin.”
That took some of his appetite away. He stared down at his meal and asked in a low voice, “How is she?”
“Better now. Recuperating.”
“She should eat,” he said, forking up a bite. “It’s been a long day.”
“True. She might come down.”
He studied the prof’s beautiful face then shook his head. “You don’t believe that.”
“Well, I hope she does, but if she doesn’t feel like being around other people, she can always order room service.”
“True.” He pondered that. “It would be better if she came down.”
Jenna’s head tilted in acknowledgement. “That doesn’t mean she can do more today.” With a gentle smile, Jenna stood up and left.
He watched her slim figure sway between the other tables on her way out. He’d love to know her story. She was one attractive woman. And very empathetic. He didn’t think that came easily. In fact, he highly suspected she’d gone through her own hell and had somehow come out the other side clean and intact, ready to help others.
Speaking of others…he pulled out his phone to text his sister when it buzzed in his hand. Paris. Of course, being twins, things like that happened all the
time.
How is it?
He raised his eyebrows at that simplified phrase. Of course she meant the workshop. But what could he tell her? He texted back. Fine.
Such a simple answer, but what else was he supposed to say? That someone around him had a major breakdown and the process so painful and disturbing he wished he hadn’t seen it? At the same time, he knew things were changing. Inside. Outside. He couldn’t explain it, but the solid center he’d been standing on was…gone.
That it might be a good thing didn’t change the discomfort of it.
The next text from his sister said, Are you learning anything? How do you think the workshop would be for me?
And that made him wince.
She’d likely do very well here. He didn’t know why Jenna had suggested another session down the road would be more helpful, but he had to admit he didn’t know how Paris would handle stressors like Robin had today.
Paris usually went all out or all in. There were no half measures for her. And although strong and caring, she was so very afraid inside.
He was hesitant as to what to tell her. How did he explain that for some, it was painful to be here? For others, like him, it was painful to watch others go through their stuff. And have his own issues flare. It was easy to stomp those issues back down deep inside for the moment, but it could get harder to keep a lid on them if the chain reaction of events speeds up.
He ordered another beer and stared out of the window, only just now realizing he’d picked the same corner of the dining room that Robin had earlier. He sat in the far corner, his back to the wall where he could watch the world go by. Like Robin had watched the world go by.
What was he going to do about her? A connection had formed between them, whether she was aware of it or not. Should he go and see her tonight or did he leave her alone and see how she was in the morning? He had no idea if the project was off…and a part of him would be relieved, yet another part would feel disappointed. He’d caught a glimpse of something he wanted for himself.