by Dan Hawley
Lately, Samantha had noticed long stretches of silence behind that door, getting longer and longer with each passing day. One day last week, maybe Wednesday, she thought, Sam didn’t hear anything from the room once, all day. She hasn’t dared ask Jason about it, though. He had been so stressed lately and on edge. The slightest thing could set him off. The past weekend was supposed to be a break from this. To help him relax and feel better. She had planned an escape from the confines of the small apartment so they could breathe and regain some of their vitality. That plan was bashed to hell when they found that hiker murdered. What was supposed to be a break from their waking nightmare had ended up adding to the horror.
Samantha continued to the bathroom and dropped off her things. She set the makeup in the drawer and the shampoo in the shower, then turned around.
“Oh!” she gasped. “Jesus, you scared me!”
Standing in the doorway was Jason, a blank, tired look on his face.
“Jason?” she asked and reached out to touch his arm. The pressure of her hand on his arm snapped him out of it. His eyes cleared, and confusion furrowed his brow.
“What… what the hell?” he said. “Fucks going on?”
“I don’t know!? I just got back from the store and was putting stuff away, and then all of a sudden, here you are! Were you sleepwalking!?”
Samantha sat down on the toilet, her hands trembling slightly.
“Shit. I dunno,” Jason said meekly.
He looked at the floor, at his hands, then at Sam.
“I guess I fell asleep at my desk? And fucking sleepwalked in the middle of the day? Who does that!? Jesus!”
Jason stormed off into the office and slammed the door behind him. Samantha sat staring at the wall, disbelieving what had just happened. She sat until her hands steadied and she was confident that she could walk without fainting.
Samantha headed to the kitchen, noting the steady click, click, click of the keyboard from behind the office door as she passed. It was almost lunchtime, and although she wasn’t all that hungry, the only thing Samantha could think of to do was cook some food.
Chicken and peppers sizzled and popped in the hot skillet. The smells awakened Sam’s appetite as she stood watch over the stove. She hoped the scent would rouse Jason too and coax him from that room. Even if it did, though, it was unlikely that she’d be able to talk to him. Lately, when he did come out for lunch, it was always brief. He would silently grab something and recoil back to his lair like some strange, recluse animal, closing the door behind him. Even at the end of the workday, he would exit the office looking like death warmed over. It would take some time and a few tries to extract a lucid conversation from Jason.
As if on cue, the office door opened, and Jason emerged.
“Sorry I scared you before,” he said sheepishly as he stopped and leaned on the kitchen island. “I just spent the last hour researching sleep clinics. Most are closed due to the pandemic, but I found one; Dr. Luu. I made an appointment, but it’s not until Friday afternoon.”
Jason sat down, planted his elbows, and rested his heavy head in his hands.
“Oh, alright, good. I was going to suggest seeing someone, but…” Sam trailed off.
“But what?”
“Well, you’ve been super moody and stressed, and even before last weekend, it was hard to talk to you. I didn’t want to upset you. Especially now, after what happened at Rainier.”
“Yeah, I’m sorry, babe,” Jason said.
“It’s ok,” Sam said as she walked around the island to hug him.
“I just want you to feel better.”
Samantha cupped Jason’s beard in her hand and bent down to kiss him. She looked into his eyes. “Love you.”
“Ditto,” he said with a smile. “Smells good. Fajitas?”
Samantha grabbed her tongs and filled four flatbreads with the steaming chicken and sweet pepper mix from the hot pans. She finished each one with shredded cheese, a spoonful of sour cream, and a squeeze of lime. She set the plates down at their places on the island, turned around, and opened the fridge to find the orange juice.
“Thanks,” Sam heard as she reached for the carton. She turned around to see Jason already headed back to the office. He disappeared inside and closed the door.
He had still talked more than most lunches, she thought.
Samantha sat down in a disappointed heap and began to eat.
* * *
Samantha hadn’t had any luck finding work, and the pandemic only made it more difficult. With not much else to do during the lockdown, she had become somewhat of a Sudoku wizard. She could spend hours on the couch pouring over the black and white grids, analyzing the lines, determining which numbers went where. She usually worked on the puzzles on the couch, from where she could hear whatever sounds were coming from the office. It’s not like she was eavesdropping; she had nowhere else to go, and the apartment was small.
She was working through a challenging puzzle when her phone vibrated. Someone was calling—unknown caller. She pressed the talk button. “Hello?” she said into the speaker.
“Hello, Samantha?”
“Yes.”
“It’s Detective Topp from the Seattle PD. Do you have a moment to speak?”
“Yes. I do.”
“Well, ma’am, sorry to bother you, I tried Jason’s phone but no response. Anyway, we picked up our man trying to cross the border in Idaho, so you can relax now.”
Relax, Sam thought. What’s that?
“Oh, that’s wonderful news, Detective. So glad to hear it. It’s been a very stressful experience, to say the least. Any idea why? Why he did it?”
“Well, I can’t really comment on an ongoing investigation, but I can say that in the last two months since lockdown began, we’ve seen a sharp increase in domestic violence calls. Some of those calls have ended in a similar way to that hiker up there, if you catch what I’m sayin’.”
“That’s terrible.”
“Anyways,” Detective Topp continued, “we may need you two for the trial when it gets underway; might have to testify or whatnot. We’ll let you know.”
“Whatever we can do to help,” Sam said.
“Ok then, you all have a good rest of your day now.” The call ended, and Sam’s phone switched from the call screen back to her wallpaper. It was a picture of her and Jason just before they left from Pennsylvania. They both looked so excited and happy. Ready to take on the world. How things change, she thought.
She rose from the couch, went to the office door, and listened. It was quiet inside. She knocked gently. No answer. She tried again, with the same result. Samantha reached for the brass doorknob and turned it slowly. The door opened to her push. Inside, the clear, white light of the LED bulbs in the ceiling lit up the room in an unnaturally bright way. Loose papers and thick books sat in piles on the desk surrounding the closed laptop and Jason’s sleeping torso. He was bent over, with his arms folded, cradling his head as he slumbered. Samantha looked at him with pity. She wished he were sleeping better. She wanted him to be happy and playful like he used to be. Their relationship had never been perfect, but it wasn’t whatever the hell this was.
Samantha longed for home. There, she had family and friends; a support network. Jason did too. He would have support from family and friends as he worked through this sleep stuff. They were just so damn alone here. She flicked the light switch off and closed the door.
* * *
“That detective called today,” Samantha said as she finished up in the kitchen that evening.
“Oh?” Jason asked. He was sitting on the couch, his glazed eyes staring at the tv screen.
“They caught the hiker’s husband. He was trying to get into Canada, I guess.”
Jason looked over at Samantha.
“Did he say why?”
“Why the husband did it?”
“Yeah.”
“Not specifically, no. He just made a comment about an increase in domestic violence s
ince lockdown began.”
Jason looked thoughtful for a moment, then looked back at the tv.
“Hope he hangs.”
Jason’s words were like venom, filled with hate.
“I don’t think they do that here, Jay.”
Samantha walked over and took a seat on the couch beside Jason. He wasn’t so out of it tonight, she thought. Must have been a good nap.
“Either way, one less thing for us to worry about.” Jason put his feet up on the coffee table and leaned back into the soft couch cushions. Samantha shifted and leaned into his side. He put his arm around her and changed the channel. The twenty-four-hour news channel popped on and as if on cue. The banner scrolling at the bottom of the screen was showing statistics of domestic violence in America, comparing incidents before and after the pandemic. Samantha stared at the numbers, wondering what would drive people to the point of hurting those they love.
* * *
Sam’s eyes opened. It was dark except for the lights from outside that cast shadows in their room. The haze softened as her eyes grew accustomed to the darkness. Her heart beat steadily in her chest, pumping blood all through her still body. She closed her eyes again and took in a deep breath meant to relax her. Instead of falling back to sleep, though, Samantha’s eyes opened again as she realized Jason’s body was not weighing down the mattress beside her.
She looked over to where he should have been, and saw only the cover, pulled back, and a headless pillow. This was not the first time Samantha had awoken in the middle of the night to find herself alone. Sometimes the kitchen light would be on, and Jason would be sitting at the island, helping himself to a midnight snack. Sometimes the bathroom light would be on, and she would hear the steady stream of piss. Other times though, no lights were on. Which usually meant that Jason didn’t need the light; he was sleepwalking.
Sam sat up and looked around the room, half squinting in the dark. Her eyes scanned the shadows until she finally saw Jason, standing with his ear firmly planted against the wall. He stood motionless. His eyes were open but unseeing. He just stood there, listening to the hum. The first time Samantha had witnessed this odd behavior, she called out to him, asking what the hell he was doing listening to the wall in the middle of the night.
He hadn’t answered.
She had hopped out of bed to scold him for being so crazy about the damn wall noise but had stopped dead in her tracks when she saw his face; his eyes. She had known then that he wasn’t awake. She had crawled back into bed with an uneasy feeling that hasn’t gone away since, but only reduced in severity.
Now though, Samantha thought it sad that she was getting used to this. Jason used to just talk in his sleep a little, mumbling mostly. Then, he started sitting up and having full conversations. Now he would get out of bed and do the weirdest shit.
Samantha lay back down on her side so she could keep an eye on the eerie sight. She couldn’t go back to sleep now, not until he came back to bed. So she lay there for what seemed like hours until Jason finally straightened up, turned, and walked back to bed. He got in and pulled the covers up and over himself. Samantha lay staring at his back. She realized how odd it was that if she didn’t wake up to witness these events, she would never know they happened at all.
CHAPTER 11
The next morning Jason awoke feeling more rested than usual. The dull achy headache that usually greeted him in the morning was gone, and his mind felt fresh for the first time in a while. Samantha was already up, so he sprang out of bed to go and find her.
Samantha was bent over the bathroom sink wearing a tiny white tank top and red booty shorts. Her bum cheeks jiggled playfully from the back-and-forth of her purple toothbrush. Jason crept up behind her, wrapped his arms around her torso, and pressed his body into hers. She paused for a moment and then stood up straight, breaking his embrace. Jason took a step back. Samantha spat mint foam and ladled water to her mouth with her cupped hand to rinse. She gargled and spat the water into the sink, watching Jason in the mirror as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.
“You’re in a good mood,” Sam said, noting Jason’s smile.
“Actually had a good sleep last night, I guess.”
“Was that before or after you were sleepwalking?” She hadn’t been mentioning it lately, but his sleep problems were affecting her sleep now too. It seemed like every night, Jason unknowingly woke her up. Apparently she wasn’t even safe from it during the day either, if Jason happened to pass out in his office while working. Jason’s smile faded.
“What’d I do this time?”
“Nothing new. Standing with your ear up to the damn wall.”
Concern marked his face, and he raised his hand to his mouth to work on his pinky fingernail, the only one with a small piece left to chew.
“Damnit, babe, I’m sorry. I don’t want to do it. I wish I didn’t. Can’t help it, really.” He paused. “Hopefully, this Dr. Luu can help me sort it out. But I don’t know what I can do until then, though.”
Jason left the bathroom and headed for the bedroom, dressed only in his boxers. He grabbed some sweatpants and a Pink Floyd t-shirt and put them on. Samantha followed.
“I came into the office yesterday, and you had passed out on your desk. Dead to the world.”
“So you must have turned the light off then. I woke up in the dark wonderin’ where the hell I was. I didn’t remember shutting off the light, but then again, I’ve been doing all kinds of shit that I don’t remember doing lately.”
Jason walked over to the bed and sat on its side.
“I put all the stuff in my night table when I sleep now—almost every night. Why the hell do I do that?”
He stared at the nightstand as if trying to figure out a complex puzzle.
Samantha joined him on the bed and put her arm around him, stroking his arm gently.
“We’ll figure it out, Jay.” She smiled. “Maybe you just need more naps on your desk to start feeling better?” Jason let out a short chuckle.
“Afternoon naps, huh? I could be into that.”
* * *
Samantha was sitting upright on the couch, trying to figure out how to make her hands move with the knitting needles in order to create, hopefully, a beanie. On the coffee table in front of her sat her opened laptop with a how-to video flickering away. She paused it, tried to mimic what the teacher instructed, not wholly confident of the result, then replayed the same part of the video again to make sure.
It was a slow process, but she was determined to learn how to knit. It kept her brain and hands busy, leaving less time to think about the insanity that they had been experiencing.
“Hold the work and needle in your left hand firmly,” the video said, “then loop under and back to complete a stitch.”
Samantha did as instructed, entirely focused on the work. In the background, the clackity-clack of Jason’s fingers hitting the keyboard was constant from behind the door. Amazing what a little sleep could do, Samantha thought.
“Ok, that’s enough for today,” Samantha said to herself as she set down the needles and closed her laptop. It was almost 4:30 p.m. Jason would finish work soon and would likely be up for a walk today, she thought.
Samantha pulled out her phone and began to browse her socials. Besides getting groceries, going for walks was their only escape from the apartment. The lockdown in Seattle had been strict. Nothing was open for entertainment: no movie theatres, no concerts or bars. The government shut down everything deemed “non-essential,” which included the space needle and all the tourist traps.
Samantha wondered how these businesses would survive. It had been months of lockdown, and even though businesses had been forced to close, it wasn’t like their bills suddenly stopped. Companies would still owe rent and taxes, utilities, and upkeep. The cost of doing business didn’t stop just because the income did.
Samantha felt sorry for them. She and Jason supported small companies where they could, but there wasn’t much they coul
d do aside from ordering takeout now and then. With a single income and no job prospects for Sam, the couple had to be careful too; their bills wouldn’t stop either. So many people were facing the same and worse. With businesses shut down, the unemployment rate had skyrocketed, and people were broke and scared.
There had been protests and riots, calling for the government to open things up again, the main sentiment being that the damage of unemployment was worse than the damn virus. Suicide and domestic violence rates had increased exponentially.
Whether due to the protests or not, the news had lately reported that the government was looking at opening some things up soon with advanced safety protocols. Samantha was on the fence about how she felt about that, but she did know that a vaccine needed to happen pronto.
The clicking stopped, and after a moment, Jason appeared from the office. He looked over at Samantha. She was bent over her phone, her neck almost parallel to the floor. Her eyebrows were scrunched up to create a deep V between them on her forehead, indicating she was deep in thought and somewhat perplexed.
“You’re gonna hurt your neck all bent over like that.” Samantha looked up, startled. So engrossed in her phone, Samantha hadn’t heard the clicking stop or seen Jason out of her peripherals. She straightened her neck and back in a stretch and set her phone down on the table.
“How was work?” she asked.
“Productive. Got a lot of shit done.”
Jason walked over to Sam and kissed her on the cheek.
“Shall we go for a walk?”
* * *
Samantha and Jason left their building and stepped out onto the sidewalk. The air was mild and briny. Dark, dense clouds threatened rain from above, but so far, the day was dry. They headed down towards the harbor, a favorite path of theirs to take. Some days they would see harbor seals poke their shiny, dark heads out of the water to have a look around. If the couple were lucky, they would walk past a fishing boat cleaning their catch and get to see a lighthearted show of seals arguing over which one gets the next scrap of fish guts thrown from the boat.
