The Darkest of Dreams

by Emigh Cannaday

  “Oh, it’s hypocritical as hell,” he laughed. “That’s why so many people are pissed off back home. Half of them want the laws changed, and the other half wants to keep the laws exactly the same as they’ve always been.”

  “But times change. And what’s wrong with having internet access, aside from trolls who are actually trolls?” Annika insisted, and waved the phone in her hand. “You could get your news right away. You could work from home instead of traveling for a week to get someplace. You could email each other instantly instead of sending letters through a pony postal service. You could do all sorts of things. Why do people want to live in the dark?”

  “Easy,” Tripp shrugged. “They think it keeps them safe.”

  “Safe from what?”

  “Everything. Ignorance is bliss.”

  All Annika could do was shake her head and continue to gaze at the screen in her hands. Each article featured the same photos of Finn that had been used in the scandalous headlines from that past summer. He looked just as respectable and kind as always. However, the news agencies had swapped out the sullen and ornery pictures of Talvi for an official government photo, courtesy of the Imperial Trade Commission. He was dressed in a sharp suit and his wild hair was as tame as Annika had ever seen it, yet he still wore his brazen perpetual smirk. Like most headline pictures, his image had a holographic quality to it, shifting like a short video as Talvi tilted his jaw forward and let his eyes make love to the camera. The sight of him made a pang of longing rise up inside of Annika’s chest. Oh, how she’d missed that attitude of cheeky confidence. She knew the photo had been taken long before they’d ever met, yet she still found herself thinking that he’d posed for it knowing full well that she’d be gazing at him one day in the future.

  Talvi Marinossian was declared innocent of the crime of willful murder Tuesday morning,’” she read from the article surrounding his picture, “‘after it was learned that his brother Finn Marinossian was in fact, very much alive and well. He admitted to authorities that he’d been living in a remote private retreat and was completely unaware of the gruesome events that took place at his family’s home in Sivita province. The imposter’s body has been identified by the Ministry of Justice as a known enemy of the Empire, although the identity remains confidential at this time. While much speculation points to the individual in question being a doppelgänger, sources have neither confirmed nor denied this theory of his race. When asked for further explanation, a representative for the Secretary of Justice had no comment other than to say, “In the end, justice prevailed. Talvi Marinossian is to be commended for protecting his family and defending his country. On behalf of the Ministry of Justice, we ask the public to please pay all due respect to him, along with the entire Marinossian family at this emotional and tumultuous time. We are eternally grateful for his service.”

  She scrolled back up to look at the picture of the seductive elven man grinning back at her. A fiery little spark began to gnaw at her insides, and she hesitated before politely handing the phone back to Tripp.

  “So, did Talvi have any kind of message for me? He’s been out for two days…maybe that’s why he hasn’t called.” Tripp shook his head, yet Annika was undeterred. “It’s because he’s on his way here, isn’t he?”

  “Not that I’m aware of. Cyril would’ve told me if we were expecting company.”

  She scrunched her face in confusion.

  “Really? You haven’t heard anything at all?” She glanced out the window, trying to mask her disappointment by taking another drink of coffee.

  “Not a peep,” Tripp answered. Refusing to sit back and do nothing, Annika reached into the pocket of her jeans and took out her phone, then dialed the number to Cyril’s office. It went straight to voicemail.

  “Well, Talvi likes to make an entrance,” she sighed after she left a message and hung up. “Maybe he’s going to surprise me again and randomly appear on my doorstep like he did last time.”

  Tripp glanced down at his book and finally turned the page.

  “Maybe he will.”

  The rest of the day came and went without any word from Talvi, even though Annika had called Cyril’s direct line and left a breathless, urgent message for him to call her back. She and Tripp went out for a run. No phone call. They went to the grocery store. Still no phone call. She made lunch, then had band practice, then made dinner. All without a phone call. The same thing happened the day after that—nothing. Annika was trying her hardest not to pester Cyril or Adams or Tripp, but it was getting on her nerves that she hadn’t heard from her husband yet. She’d left more than a few heartfelt voicemails for him over the past week, whether she was pacing in the back yard or pacing back and forth across the large oriental rug in the living room. The one time that Cyril had picked up the phone, he promised that he was transcribing each one of her messages and sending them to Talvi. The reason for the delay was because he’d gone straight home to be reunited with his family, and he’d surely get back to her as soon as he was able. Cyril would personally see to it.

  “But it’s been over a week,” Annika groaned in disappointment.

  “You must understand that it’s a chaotic time for him right now. The same goes for the rest of the Marinossian family,” Cyril explained in a delicate tone. “Everyone’s nerves are a bit fragile, what with the exhuming of a body, a son back from the dead, and the other released from prison—all within the past month. And we mustn’t take for granted that solitary confinement has a way of throwing even the most well-adjusted person into a mental minefield. Perhaps you can give him a little more time to work through everything that’s happened to him and his family, hmm?” Even from so far away, his grace and charm were impossible to ignore.

  “I can do that,” Annika agreed reluctantly. She knew it was for the best, although that didn’t make it an easier pill to swallow. “I just wanted to make sure Talvi knew I was thinking about him.”

  “Oh, I don’t think there’s any doubt in his mind about that,” Cyril said, and hung up the phone.

  With every day that passed by, Annika was starting to notice how little her thoughts were focused on creating a perfect béarnaise sauce or reorganizing her closet or finishing another song. Now her thoughts were consumed by how much they were starting to obsess over the much-anticipated phone call that never came. Phantom rings buzzed from inside her purse and her back pocket, yet every time she glanced at her phone there were no new texts and no missed calls. She began to stare out the living room window, waiting faithfully every morning at 11:00 on the dot when the postal carrier came by. Then she’d run out to the mailbox to see if anything was addressed to her. All she ever got were catalogues for music equipment, Rolling Stone magazine, and the occasional bill.

  Almost two weeks later she was having lunch with James at the gallery. She’d just picked up their lunch from the new deli down the street, and now the two of them were relaxing in the back office.

  “Motherfucking asshats!” he exclaimed in disgust when he unwrapped his sandwich. “What the fuck is this bullshit?”

  “Shhh!” she hissed from across the table. “What if someone out there hears you?”

  “I hope someone does hear me!” James loudly complained, still eyeing his sandwich as if it were covered in worms. “Then they’ll know that you do not order Italian beef on a motherfucking croissant! Just look at this! What’s Italian about a croissant? Nothing! What’s the point of dipping your sandwich in a side of au jus if it’s just going to dribble everywhere and make a huge fucking mess? A croissant is puffed up with air! It can’t soak up shit!” He cast a hateful stare at his meal and then scoffed. “The whole point of an Italian beef sandwich is for the Italian bread to soak up the jus, which is why you always serve Italian beef on Italian fucking bread! Ugh! I should’ve known better than to order one of these outside of Chicago!”

  “I can go get you something else,” Annika offered, trying not to laugh at how angry he was.

  “No,” he snapped
irritably. “How about you grab me an entire roll of paper towels instead? Because that’s what I’m going to need to be able to eat this without destroying my sweater.”

  She watched as James carefully opened the plastic container of spicy beef sauce, rolled up the sleeves of his sweater, and then looked up at her.

  “I wasn’t joking about the paper towels,” he said, still strategizing on the best way to enjoy his lunch. “Actually, I might want to lay down some newspaper too.” Stifling a few giggles, Annika got up and fetched the roll of paper towels from beside the mini-fridge.

  “What’s so funny?” he asked when she returned.

  “I’m just trying to think of all the jokes I could make right now about hot Italian beef dripping all over the place while you stuff it into your mouth,” she said, still laughing quietly. “Do you always roll up your sleeves before you shove hot Italian beef into your face?”

  James shot her a glare, then gave a wry grin.

  “I do when I’m wearing cashmere.”

  Annika grinned and took a huge bite of her roasted red pepper and hummus wrap while James dipped one end of his Italian beef into the container of sauce. He’d no sooner shoved the sandwich into his mouth when he hummed loud enough to get her attention, then pointed at her purse. And, since Annika already had a mouthful of lunch in her mouth, she hummed even louder when she pulled out her phone and saw that someone named ‘Unavailable’ was calling her. She leapt out of her chair and dashed into the main gallery, struggling to swallow her food as she answered the phone.

  “Hello?” she finally gulped. Nothing. “Hello?”

  She was fully expecting to hear the tired old recorded script of a telemarketer, but she wasn’t prepared for the cool and aloof male voice that greeted her.

  “Is this Annika Brisby?”

  “Yes! It is!” she gushed. “Is this Talvi Marinossian?”

  “It is.”

  His voice sounded flatter than usual, but it was definitely him. Annika suddenly found herself out of breath from pacing around the gallery in hurried laps and plain old nerves.

  “I was wondering when you would call!” she sighed with an anxious smile. “How are you? Are you okay? I was wondering why I haven’t heard anything from you. Have you been at your family’s house all this time?”

  There was a brief moment of silence before her husband replied.

  “For the most part,” he said with hardly any emotion whatsoever.

  “Where are you?”

  “I’m at a friend’s place in London. The flat’s near the office.”

  Annika frowned at the lack of brightness or pleasure in his voice, and she could almost imagine the bored expression he surely must be wearing on his face. He sounded as though he wasn’t all that interested in speaking to her.

  “Oh? Does that mean you’re already back to work?” she tittered. “I thought they would’ve let you take some vacation days or something.”

  There was another long moment of silence before he answered.

  “I didn’t see the point of taking a long holiday…I’ve had enough sitting around to last me a lifetime. We thought it best if I returned straight away. Cyril has an assignment lined up for me. I’m expected to leave in a few days.”

  “Wow, he didn’t wait very long,” she replied, feeling frustrated at the timing of Talvi’s schedule. Then she felt concerned about what might be included in that schedule. “What’s the assignment?”

  “I don’t know yet. All I know is that I’ll be traveling and that you won’t be able to reach me.”

  “How long will you be gone?”

  “I can’t say.”

  “Oooh, is it because your mission is top secret?” she teased, hoping to get him to laugh or cheer up or simply show the slightest bit of warmth in his voice.

  “I don’t know how long the assignment will take because I don’t know what the assignment is,” he replied. Another awkward lull in the conversation ensued. This time it was so long that she was about to ask if he was still on the line when he followed up with, “How was your tour? Finn said you called him down from a bloody mountain outside of Tokyo.”

  For the next few minutes, Annika tried desperately to fill in the gaps of silence with how Finn’s mysterious appearance had caused her to faint, followed by tour details such as nearly missing flights and arriving at overbooked hotels and sleeping on the sofas of club owners instead. She described the multiple sincere letters from fans who longed for another record, and she shared the news about the payments starting to trickle in slowly. She told him about her ideas for which places she was looking forward to revisiting once the next album was done and it was time to tour all over again. When she felt that she’d sufficiently talked Talvi’s pointy ear off, she gave him a chance to respond. Instead, there was nothing.

  “Hello? Talvi? Are you still there?”

  “I am.”

  “Do we have a bad connection or something?” she asked, although she didn’t hear any static.

  More silence. Then a very audible sigh.

  “Our telephone connection is fine,” he said in a voice devoid of happiness. “It’s the sound of your voice. It’s…it’s…”

  “My voice? What’s wrong with the sound of my voice?”

  More silence.

  “Talvi? Did you hang up?”

  “No,” he muttered. “Oh, blast it all to hell. I thought this would be easier.”

  Tears welled up in Annika’s eyes and she rounded the corner so James wouldn’t see her cry. She looked up and found herself standing in front of a black and white landscape. The paint had been applied in thick, heavy layers, with one lonely little house on the edge of the field. It struck Annika that the artist might have intended it to represent solitude, but all she saw was a soul that was far, far away, and utterly forlorn.

  “I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you got out of Bleakmoor,” she said and wiped her eyes. “I wanted to come along with Finn, but he told me it wasn’t a good idea.”

  “He was right. You wouldn’t have wanted to be there,” said Talvi, this time sounding darker than before. “Nothing wants to be there. Nothing except the cold and the damp and the dark.”

  “Well, that place is history, so what about getting together now that you’re back in London?” she ventured. “I could fly out there and we could—“

  “It’s really not a good time for you to visit,” he interrupted. Instead of giving her the exact reason why it was a bad time to visit, there was only more silence, followed by another sigh. “I’m glad to hear you’re doing so well. It sounds as if things are finally falling into place for you.”

  “They’re getting there,” she said, trying not to weep out loud. She had a feeling that their conversation was drawing to a close, and she wasn’t anywhere near being ready to let him go. “Things would be better if I could see you. Even if we just had dinner or something.”

  “Annika, I hate to say this over the telephone, but I’ve had a lot of time to think about things,” he began. “So much has happened between us that I’m not certain…I’m not sure that I—that we—what I mean is…” He trailed off, unable or unwilling to finish his sentence.

  “If you’ve got something to say, just say it,” she insisted. “You know I’m not that fragile or that delicate.”

  More silence. Then a deep breath on the other line.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “What are you trying to say to me, Talvi?” she asked. “Whatever it is, I can handle it.”

  “What I’m trying to say is…it’s…that I hope we can be friends.”

  “Friends?” she repeated. “Is that what you want us to be?”

  “It is. Would you rather we were not friends?”

  “No! I mean, sure, it’s fine, I guess. It’s just that…” Feeling like she was at the end of her rope, she began to pace around the gallery again. “It seems like you’re not telling me the whole story. What do you really want?”

  “I want us to be f
riends,” he said in that cool, detached manner from earlier. “And I’d like for you to keep your protective detail nearby and keep writing songs and going on tour and doing whatever else makes you happy. I’ll cover the cost.” Annika was frantically calculating in her head how she could stall him for more time when she heard a faint commotion in the background. Talvi directed a few casual and lighthearted words in Karsikko to someone else before continuing. “Listen…my dinner’s just arrived so I have to let you go. I’m glad to hear you’re doing well, slunchitse. Immensely glad.”

  Those last two sentences were the most emotive words he’d spoken during that entire conversation, and Annika repeated them in her head, clinging to them the way one clings to the last sliver of the sun before it sinks beyond the horizon. He was glad that she was doing well. It wasn’t quite what she’d hoped to hear, but it wasn’t terrible.

  Ten seconds must’ve passed before Annika realized that he’d hung up. She stared at her phone in disbelief for another ten seconds before returning to the office at the back of the gallery. A pile of crumpled paper towels sat next to the empty sauce container from her roommate’s lunch, and the only evidence of a croissant having graced that table was in the form of a few small crumbs. James was in the process of cleaning off the table when he saw the stunned look on her face.

  “Who called? Is everything alright?”

  “It was Talvi,” she said, and sat down in front of her barely-eaten veggie wrap. “Although, I’m not sure if everything’s alright.”

  “Oh my god!” James cried out. “You haven’t spoken to each other in months! What did he say?”

  “He said he wants us to be friends.”

  “Friends? Really? Wow…that’s a big step!”

  Annika looked at him with a skeptical expression.

  “Is it? I kind of feel like being put in the friend-zone is the opposite result I was hoping for.”

  “You’ve got to be shitting me, if that’s what you really think,” said James with a sarcastic roll of his brown eyes. “Did he say he wanted a divorce?”