Shadows Across America

by Guillermo Valcarcel

  He didn’t answer. After waiting until they’d driven over a mile, he grabbed her hair with an anger that took her completely by surprise. He turned to face her, taking his eyes off the road.

  “Look at me, bitch. Look me in the eyes! They’re piercing! I’ll show you!” He smacked her head against the dashboard as hard as he could while the truck swerved wildly from one side of the road to the other. Then he let her go and regained control of the truck. The girl, spitting blood, her nose broken, tried to reach for the door, but it was locked. The Beast let out an ominous laugh and felt himself grow, filling the interior with his presence while she shrank down to the size of a puppy. A puppy that he, the great demon, would crush without remorse. Grabbing her hair again, he shouted with the full force of his lungs: “I am the Beast! I am the Beast!”

  The cafeteria smelled of disinfectant, and the light was cold and weak, creating a sickly, bloodless atmosphere. The white walls with their faded double lines only enhanced the feeling. The cavernous space echoed with the murmur of different conversations. Couples and groups with devastated expressions were scattered around, talking in ghostly voices. Ethan thought that this was absolutely appropriate, given the circumstances. The people sitting around him were either waiting or hurting: when you received good news, you didn’t come down to the hospital cafeteria to celebrate. It occurred to him that the bewildered feeling it gave you was intentional, demonstrating a kind of empathy with the distraught visitors. The only relief came from the window that looked out onto the garden. It might once have promised sunny mornings on the patio, but instead the sun had scorched the building’s facade and withered the garden into a lifeless shell. He had the impression that this was the kind of place one only saw at night, in dim light when the cold had sunk into your bones. Candy came back in; her bitter expression seemed burdened with the weight of the world.

  “The nurse says that he’s going to be sedated until tomorrow, so we should go. There’s nothing we can do here.”

  “I want to stay with you.”

  “You can go. Actually, I’d rather you did. The way Ari left, I think maybe you have some stuff you need to talk over.”

  “This isn’t about us.”

  “Yes, it is. Or you, anyway. This whole mess, this shitty situation, wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t suddenly decided to become the masked avenger. Seriously, Ethan, what the hell were you two thinking? Don’t think that fat bastard in there has got away with it—he’ll get his when he wakes up. You’ve told me the story three times, and I still don’t get it. I remember little Michi very well—you know I loved her—but do you really know what you’re saying?”

  Ethan didn’t answer. He hadn’t told them about the dream. That would only give them more reason to think he’d gone crazy. And he understood completely. In their place, he’d have reacted the same way. Instead of trying to explain himself, he just kept silent. It didn’t matter now. What they’d just been through had forced him to give up on his plan anyway. Waiting for the ambulance for Bear had been some of the worst minutes of his life. He had had to help them lift him onto the gurney. After the legal complications, the questioning, Candy’s reaction, and the fear, panic, and fury, now there was the waiting. The tense, exhausting waiting. They’d gotten lucky: the bullets hadn’t done any major damage to Bear, but his vest had stopped them from exiting, and that had aggravated the wounds. Then Ari had stormed off, screaming that she couldn’t understand how he could have let things go so far. And now he felt triply guilty about Michi, Ari, and Bear.

  “It’s over now. I’m not going anywhere. Ari won’t run the business if I go, and she couldn’t do it on her own anyway.”

  Candy took out another cigarette and tapped it against the pack. “So it’s over? Just like that?”

  “You know I don’t have a choice. It’s not up to me.”

  “I don’t know. Fuck, you’re with Ari, not Michelle, right?”

  “You never liked Michelle.”

  “That’s not what we’re talking about. What we’re talking about is your girlfriend’s reaction to you going off to visit your ex in another country.”

  “You never liked Michelle.”

  “No, I didn’t. I thought she was a bitch then, and I still do, but I guess that’s on me. Maybe I’m being unfair.”

  “You’re entitled to your opinion.”

  “Ethan, you’re a great guy. I love you lots, but sometimes you’re a fucking douchebag. Listen, I’m not going to sit here arguing with you, because you always manage to twist things around to your point of view. But even if we were to say you were right and that you’re the only one who can help Michi, you could have asked Ari to go with you, and we could have run the business. You know she’d have said yes. I don’t want to break your balls here, but you’d better think hard about what’s on the line. Ari isn’t the little girl who used to stare up at you wide eyed, repeating whatever you said to everyone, or the girl you used to get back on your feet when Michelle left you. She’s changed, and it seems you’re the only who hasn’t noticed.”

  “I never used Ari.”

  “Sure, but you always found her in your bed when you needed it, and she never asked you for anything in return. Maybe it’s better this way. Maybe she’s grown out of you.”

  Ari was brushing her teeth and wondering whether she’d overreacted at the hospital, if it had been selfish to have made that scene over Michelle instead of trying to stay calm. But she’d gone crazy. She’d been distraught about Bear when she’d arrived, on the brink of tears. Then suddenly, the moment he was out of immediate danger, Ethan and Candy were talking about that bounty, the trip, a kidnapped girl. And who had been right there in the middle of it all? Bam! Michelle, admiring the chaos she’d created. Ari could understand the impulse to go look for the girl, but to her it was so obvious that it was all a big lie. There were all these strange details: the email to Bear instead of Ethan, the random encounter with Tony on the same day they got the news during a seemingly routine capture . . . she’d seen through it all while Ethan had just gone on and on with that silver tongue he always used to trick her. He could fool anyone. But not this time.

  He’d spent the night before murmuring “Michelle, Michelle.” He’d seemed so upset that she’d tried to wake him. When she’d been unsuccessful, she’d gotten out of bed in a rage. At the hospital, she’d listened to his little tale and watched her friend, listening and accepting it with surprising credulity. She’d wondered how to expose him without screaming what she thought of him. But then he’d finished his story and told her that this wasn’t the time to talk about it. It was the way he’d dismissed her so lightly that she couldn’t stand. She’d stared at Ethan, and for a moment he’d seemed unrecognizable. They’d had a lot of fights, but he’d never treated her so coldly before. It was so cynical. He was like a compulsive liar convinced he’d never be caught out. It made her wonder whether she really knew him at all or if the mask had finally slipped after all these years. She realized that if he’d told one lie like this, he might have told dozens, hundreds. And this wasn’t an innocent white lie—it involved Michelle. Why make up something like this? How long had they been in touch behind her back? Why was he really going on this trip?

  Instead of smashing everything within reach and telling him to go to hell, turning back into the violent teenager she’d once been, she’d restrained herself. She’d learned from the best, and she couldn’t be more grateful to him for that. She’d repressed her confusion, her uncertainty, and her anger, and she’d left. On her way back she’d racked her brain for possible excuses: confusion, forgetfulness, maybe some kind of well-meaning intention she couldn’t understand. But every time she thought it over, it came back to the same thing: deceit, betrayal, lies, cheating, ingratitude, sleaze, and, ultimately, loneliness.

  Voices were eating away at her from the inside. She couldn’t go to Candy; she was still at the hospital, going through something even worse. Unable to share such a deep wound, she’d l
ocked herself in the bathroom, hoping it would be a long time before he came back. Then she’d cried as she hadn’t cried in years.

  An hour later, she had calmed down and decided to keep going until she’d exposed him for the dirty liar he was. She’d had a quick dinner and gone to brush her teeth, sure that he wouldn’t be back until the next day. But then she heard his keys in the lock. He called out a greeting. She froze, feeling nervous, as though they hadn’t seen each other in months. Her instinctive reaction was to lock the door.

  Ethan stomped heavily into the bedroom and sat on the bed. He looked at the closed door and for a moment wished he were on the other side, hugging her. He tried to think of what to say, feeling ridiculous, annoyed, and guilty all at the same time. For one thing, he didn’t understand anything that had happened over the past twenty-four hours. He’d been caught up in a sequence of events completely beyond his control. It annoyed him that he had to explain his actions as though he’d done something wrong, and he was especially irritated by Ari’s childish behavior. With Bear out of danger, he’d taken full responsibility for the botched arrest, and he’d felt as though he were a hostile witness being interrogated, having to justify himself for wanting to help with something that he felt was important: a girl’s life was at stake. But he also felt terrible about what Candy had said to him: he’d made sure to keep Ari out of it right from the start, and he was ashamed. And he was frightened by what Candy had said, by the idea that Ari had outgrown him.

  Ari had lived a difficult life. She had been forced to grow up fast, confronted with problems no girl of her age should have had to deal with, and she’d gotten through them with incredible strength. That was who she had been when Ethan had met her, and he’d accepted her immediately. But who was she now? What could be scarier than not knowing who your girlfriend was? Wasn’t it that very fear he’d seen in other aging couples? His parents, for instance. Ethan was afraid to poke his head over the ramparts Ari had put up. What if there wasn’t any room for him in there? After her childish outburst at the hospital, once the initial indignation had faded away, he’d only felt tenderness for her. He’d been given a glimpse of the insecure, aggressive little girl he’d once known, and he’d been grateful to finally see a little vulnerability. It was a reminder of how much he loved her. Now he wanted to make it up to her. But his good intentions began to wilt in the glare of real communication. The gap between them was getting wider and wider. He cleared his throat but didn’t know what to say.

  “Hello!”

  He could hear Ari gurgling.

  “Candy’s going to stay the night. Did you have dinner?”

  “Yes, there’s lasagna in the oven.”

  “Thank you. But . . . about before. I’m not going. There won’t be any trip. I don’t know what I was thinking. I know it was crazy, but . . . I need you to understand. The news . . .”

  Ari came out and stood there expectantly, but Ethan couldn’t find the words. She raised her eyebrows and looked at him with a feeling she couldn’t identify. Still, it was comfortable. She shrugged. “I’m sorry too. I acted like an idiot. I’m glad. I’m very sorry about Michi, but I’m glad that you’re staying.”

  She went over, and he wrapped his arms around her without getting up, feeling her stomach against his cheek. The hug was short lived. She stepped back, and he let her go and went off to the kitchen. She wanted to ask him to stay, but she didn’t. She asked herself why she had pushed him away. She asked herself whether she believed him. Who was the real Ethan? How could they get things back on the right track? That was what she wanted. He’d comforted her with just a few words. It was like a bad dream that had lasted a whole day. She wanted to take his hand and lead him somewhere to talk and work things out. She wasn’t going to give up. Their relationship meant something. It had to.

  She got into bed, knowing that he wouldn’t join her. He’d have dinner in front of the TV and fall asleep on the sofa. It was a flashback to their early days. She had been very temperamental, and in certain situations, not just when she was angry but when she felt anxious or in crisis, she’d asked him for space. She needed to breathe, and he’d crash on the couch. One summer night he’d slept in the hammock. Respecting her wishes was the act of a Hispanic gentleman. Now it had become a habit: during tense periods like this one, it was a preventative move. But she could go to him and ask him to keep her company. She wouldn’t even have to say anything; she just had to go and kiss him on the cheek or stroke his hand. But she didn’t. She didn’t know why. She just didn’t.

  An hour or two later, she felt his warm body slip in next to hers. She turned over and saw his shape under the sheets.

  Ethan whispered, “Go to sleep.”

  And she turned around, pleased that their tacit agreement had been consigned to the past.

  Ethan felt the darkness closing in around him. He sensed danger. He didn’t know who he was with, only that they were familiar to him. Confused, he tried to focus on the people, but for some reason he couldn’t see them, though he sensed their presence. He walked on, realizing that he had no idea when he’d started moving or from where he’d started. He soon found himself far away, alone, with nobody close by. The hallway (since when had he been in a hallway?) got narrower and darker as the echoing voices grew quieter. He focused on the sound and realized that it was coming from a party. That was right—he’d just left a party and was sliding down this poorly lit hallway. A vague fear welled up inside of him, and he realized that it was a dream. I need to wake up, he told himself, trying to sit up in the hopes that he could shove his body out of this oppressive limbo. But nothing happened; he wasn’t in bed. He was standing in the hallway. This is a dream, a dream I can wake up from. His fear grew as he went deeper into the darkness and approached a closed door. He recognized the sensation of danger and knew that he had to wake up. I need to wake up. He knew that he was lying in bed next to Ari, but he was unable to move or get out of his self-imposed prison. The door opened, and he walked down some stairs, his terror growing with each step. This is a dream—it’s not real. He started to hear whispers. The noise from the party (what party?) had disappeared completely, and now the space was filled with the ghostly sound of a pair of women’s voices. Their invisible voices came closer, and Ethan worried they’d give him away to whatever was stalking him. He knew that they’d expose him and tried to quiet them without making any noise. It’s a dream, he told himself. I can change this. I’m in charge of my dreams. The only thing that’s stopping me is my fear. I just have to decide to change it and wake up. But one of the whispers echoed clearly in his head, as though it were right at his ear, even though he was still alone. It was Michi’s voice. He’d known it was her right from the start. Another feminine voice was trying to reach him. Someone was talking to her, telling her to say something. He couldn’t tell whether it was trying to help her or catch him. The voice became clear; there was nothing he could do to avoid it.

  “Don’t go any farther, or they’ll catch you.”

  “Your voice, Michelle. They’ll hear you.”

  “They can’t right now. They’re blind right now—they’re worried about the fire.”

  “I can’t stop. I can’t help it.”

  “Yes, you can. This is a part of your dream. If you don’t stop, they’ll find you.”

  These words made Ethan shiver. His hair was standing on end. A nameless fear trickled like ice water down the back of his neck. Then he stopped. Everything stopped. He could see a glow in the distance.

  “See? You stopped. But if you move, they’ll find you. And then you’ll never come back.”

  “Back where, Michi? Where are you?”

  “I don’t know—in another country. To the south.”

  “Why can’t I see you?”

  “Because you’re not here. She is. And you’ll get here. Now you have to get ready.”

  “Where are you talking to me from? What do you want me to do?”

  “There are two of them. They’re comi
ng down the passage, but I can see them for you. Don’t be afraid. They don’t know that I’m talking to you.”

  “Are these the men that kidnapped you? Are they the men you’re afraid of?”

  “I’m afraid of the other one. Very scared.”

  “Who’s the other one, Michi?”

  “He’s one of them. He says he’s a man, but I know he isn’t. He’s one of them, and if he finds me, he’ll take me away.”

  Now Michi was clearly crying; she was terrified.

  “Don’t worry, Michi. No one is going to take you anywhere. I’m going to come find you.”

  She wasn’t speaking anymore, just struggling to keep her crying silent. She took a deep breath. “Are you coming to find me?”

  “Of course, but I need your help. I need to know where you are. Something.”

  Michi’s voice grew taut, like it had crystalized, as though the soundwaves had turned into glass scratching at his ears.

  “He’s coming now. You have to go. He’ll take you away along with me.”

  Ethan felt the girl’s fear increasing. It spread to him and became a part of him. He tried to reassure her.

  “Michi, listen: nothing’s going to happen. You’re dreaming.”

  But the voice didn’t belong to her anymore. A monstrous groan swelled and replaced it with a demonic roar.

  “Get out!”

  He jolted awake in terror. It took him a long time to calm down. The bedroom was dark, and the house was silent. In the distance, a dog barked at something. Next to him, Ari was breathing slowly. It was a normal early morning. He gulped and got up to go to the bathroom. He decided to go to the guest one so as not to wake Ari. His legs were trembling, and he was afraid to leave the room. Ethan was amazed to find himself scared in his own house, as though he were seven years old again, but he couldn’t control it. He turned on the lights in the hallway and the bathroom and looked at his reflection in the mirror, expecting to see something unfamiliar. But everything looked normal. He scolded himself incredulously. How could he be having a panic attack? But the fear wouldn’t go away. As he took a piss, his head cleared a little, and his vision came back into focus. He washed his face in the sink, and when he looked up, he saw a silhouette in the mirror. A few feet behind him, a figure in the shadows. His dream was merging with reality. He jumped.