Last Detour

Home > Other > Last Detour > Page 8
Last Detour Page 8

by Renata Martin


  "You know deja vu is just the brain accidentally storing short-term memories in the part of the brain where long-term memories should be, hence you think it's happened before," said Olivia.

  "Nah, that's bullshit," Corey said bluntly.

  "It's all about determinism. Your upbringing, your biology. People act how they're going to act and there is no choice, no fate. Just synapses firing, conditioning. That kind of stuff."

  "So you're saying we can let of serial killers. It's not their fault, right? It's just their upbringing."

  "True. But we still need somewhere safe to house them, so they don't go around murdering everybody. Anyway, forget that. Have I told you about determinist chip theory?"

  "Determinist chip theory?"

  "Well, you call them French fries so determinist French fry theory."

  "I feel like I need to know about this more than anything else in my life."

  "Well, I believe that your upbringing and biology determine exactly what French fries you like. Crispy ones, floppy ones, long ones, the small splintery ones. I think a scientist could study you and come up with a calculation as to the exact order you would eat a portion of French fries in, down to the last fry."

  "My mind is blown. I'm totally convinced by determinism now."

  "I knew you would be. It just makes sense."

  "You are a genius," Corey announced. "Another question. Do you ever sometimes imagine that you can show your past self, the future you. Show them how far you've come. Like past me would be so amazed at what I've achieved. I don't think I'd ever really believe that I'd make it. I still feel like an imposter.

  "So you want to brag to your past self." Olivia smirked.

  "Well, when you say it like that it sounds stupid. So I will assume you've never done that."

  "Why would I? Past me would be embarrassed of future me."

  "Surely not."

  Dana sat cross-legged, rocking gently, and Olivia went over to her. "How's things going in this neck of the woods?"

  "I don't know."

  "Are you sure you don't know?"

  "I miss my mom."

  "I'm sorry."

  "I just feel so bad."

  "How come?"

  "We had a big fight just before I overdosed. What if she thinks it's her fault?"

  "I'm sure she doesn't think that. What were you fighting about, anyway?"

  "The usual. She kept going on about grandchildren and I just snapped. I blamed her for my marriage falling apart because she put too much pressure on us having a baby? I just know that she would have found my body, but I didn't care that I would traumatize her, all I cared about was not being able to have a baby. I'm so selfish. Suicide is selfish."

  "Selfish! I'll tell you what selfish is. Being guilted into living in misery just so other people don't have to do without you. Everyone is selfish, and I'm sick of people pretending they're not, or just being better at hiding it. Selfish is like this dirty word and people are constantly going on about how selfish other people are, and you know the only reason they do it? To feel superior. That's it, simple as that. That's why people do most things in life. Competing for the best job, owning the best house, traveling to the most countries, having the latest technology. The new keeping up with the Jones's is how selfless you are, how virtuous. They wear it like a badge of honor, hypocrites. I mean come on, we're all going to die anyway. Are we even making a choice? How can something inevitable even be a choice?"

  "I don't want to talk about this anymore."

  "I'm sorry. I got carried away. I'm a fucking jerk. Don't pay any attention to me."

  "I'm gonna see if Luke is okay." Dana excused herself.

  Olivia sat in the sand, running their conversation through her mind. She remembered ranting but couldn’t remember if she'd said anything particularly offensive. She just had a habit of offending everyone around her. "Michael, why do I always do this? Am I a bad person?"

  "You're not a bad person, Olivia. You're just rash and passionate. I wouldn't worry about it."

  "I don't. Well, not as much as I used to. When I was a kid, I was obsessed that everyone hated me. It kept me awake at night. The thought that someone may be talking about me behind my back made me physically sick. Nowadays, I feel bad for all of two minutes and then forget about it and make the same mistakes. I just need to learn to keep my mouth shut."

  "Don't stop being who you are. You can always try to be more sensitive, but I wouldn't beat yourself up. Feeling like a victim just makes everything worse."

  "You are a wise mother-fucker, you know that?"

  "I try my best." Michael put his hand over hers and watched the waves.

  ***

  THE VOICE

  Time started to loose its meaning. Two minutes or two hours could have passed. She didn't care. Eye contact normally made her uncomfortable, but she stared at Michael's as the world went by.

  "Where'd Dana go?" Corey asked. "Luke you were just talking to her."

  "How am I supposed to know? I'm not her keeper. She probably just went for a piss. Olivia glanced at the group, at the empty space where Dana had sat. Her eyes scanned up and down the length of the beach, but she wasn't there. She had that sinking feeling she got when she knew something wasn't quite right.

  "I have to find her." Olivia stumbled as she got up. "Head rush."

  "Take it easy." Michael stood up to support her as she swayed.

  "I have to find her. It's my fault. She's delicate, I don't want her wandering around alone."

  "I can come. We'll find her."

  "I want to make a heart-felt apology and it would just be weird if you're stood there. She's probably just back at the center anyway."

  "Just take care okay."

  ***

  The wooden steps up to the center from the beach were steep, and Olivia was out of breath by the time she was halfway up. By the time she got to the top, she had to take a break and catch her breath.

  "Dana," she huffed. "You about?"

  It was so quiet all she could hear was her own footsteps as she made her way into the center. "Dana, I want to apologize." She checked the lounge, dining area and kitchen, and there was no-one to be found. "Dana." She stepped out onto the balcony and still couldn't get over the beauty of the place. Each room was quiet with the curtains blowing out of the open doors onto the balconies and then falling down again like an apparition floating, then disappearing.

  She could see the group on the beach from up on the platform and it looked like they were having fun, and here she was wandering around in the baking heat tripping balls. She walked back through the complex and out the front door, wondering which way to look. She decided to walk around the outside of the building as Dana couldn't have gone that far.

  Butterflies and bees hovered around the tropical flowers planted around the building. She admired them for a minute as they went about their business, and her brain wandered, imagining a future where bees were extinct, and man had to come up with another way to pollinate. That may never even be a possibility now that everyone had gone, and nature could go back to doing its thing. A tree-lined track called to her, and she picked up her pace, certain she had seen some movement at the end of the path. As the sunlight filtered through the leaves, they cast beautiful patterns on the ground and the air was impossibly still now the trees sheltered her from the exposed cliff. The path sloped up, and she cursed having to walk up another incline. Olivia slowed as the path got steeper, but she could see the end in sight where it plateaued and the trees cleared. When she got to the top, she could see the ocean again, and the breeze swept the grass to one side like a comb-over. A small black silhouette perched atop the edge of the cliff in the distance and she ran to it. "Dana, wait up."

  By the time she got to the location where she had seen the figure, there was nothing there. Must just be the LSD, she decided, and realized it was probably a bad idea to be this close to a sharp drop when high. She heard her name. Just a whisper on the wind, but she definitely h
eard it. She spun around, trying to see the origin of the voice. Her name again, but only quiet. Before she climbed back down, she allowed herself to just have a peek over the edge. A compelling curiosity. It was higher than she thought it would be. Most of the drop was sheer until the jagged rock jutted out at the bottom. She wondered how long it would hurt if you hit the bottom and imagined the damage it would do. A voice filled her head. She often had her own voice in her head telling her all the things wrong with her and her life, but this one was different. The voice was not her own. It told her she couldn't die, and she doubted it, but it reminded her that she tried to hang herself and it didn't work. It also reminded her of all the failed attempts of the group. It told her she was immortal and would have to live forever. That thought scared her more than any other. She desperately wanted to tell the voice that it was wrong, but it had a point. Zoe tried to slit her wrists and couldn't. What if this was how the afterlife worked? Maybe immortality was a way of punishing the suicidal for daring to deny the so called precious gift of life. The voice then told her there was a way out but this was her last and only chance. She could kill herself, but it was now or never.

  She told herself that the pain would be temporary, a second or two, if that. She could do this. She was strong. She was brave. The thought of actually jumping from something so high seemed so impossible, going against every single instinct. Every particle of her being was fighting against the voice, but somehow the voice won. She just let go, let her body tip forward as if she was diving into a pool. The momentum came fast and hard, and her stomach churned as the air rushed past her and her lungs forced out a scream. The floor hurtled towards her in seconds, yet time slowed to a crawl.

  ***

  Everything was blue. She wasn't sure if her eyes were even open, but she could see blue. Her limbs wouldn't move, not that she could even feel them. For all she knew, she could be floating through space. Screams of seagulls burst into the place she was in, and then the sensation in her body came back. Starting with tingling fingers, energy went through her like a circuit.

  "Oh my god, Olivia. Thank god. I thought we'd lost you." The pain in Michael's voice hit her in the gut like a fist.

  "Where's Dana?" She muttered as her eyes opened.

  "I don't know."

  "We're immortal. We can't die. I wanted to prove it wrong." Her hands sunk into the sand as she tried to get up.

  "It?"

  "The voice."

  "You're really scaring me Olivia."

  "I can't die." She sobbed, yet no tears came.

  "Are you injured?" Michael looked over her.

  Olivia moved each limb in turn, to see if she had broken anything, but she felt fine, better than fine. As if she had just laid down to sunbathe and got rudely awakened from a peaceful but energising sleep.

  "What can we do?" Michael asked, his voice trembling. Luke and Zoe stood behind him with looks of concern.

  "Nothing, there's nothing we can do. We have no control over any of this."

  "Not to minimize or anything but this is really mellowing my buzz." Corey chipped in.

  Olivia started laughing hysterically. She was fully aware that everyone was staring at her, but she couldn't stop. The muscles in her stomach ached the longer it went on. "You're awesome, Corey. Never change." She peeled herself off the ground. "How did you find me?"

  "I saw you plummet from the cliff. It was awful." Michael was still checking her over for any signs of damage.

  "I'm sorry. Lesson learned. Don't walk along cliffs when high."

  Michael squeezed her close. "Please don't do that to me again." He pulled his pill bottle out of his pocket and popped two oxycodone in his mouth, followed by a sip of water from his bottle. "Do you remember hitting the ground?"

  "Not at all. I remember falling and waking up. That's it."

  Olivia's vision was still a little blurry, maybe from the LSD. She couldn't be sure of anything. The black silhouette she had seen earlier bobbed at the end of the beach like a cork, as if it was floating where the water met the shore. She strained her eyes.

  "Can anyone see that thing over there or am I losing it?"

  "Yeah. Is that Dana?" Michael waved.

  The figure got closer and closer until Olivia could make her out. Dana was running towards them, panting, with a face as red as a tomato. "Run."

  "Dana where were you," Michael asked.

  "In the forest. It came from everywhere. It's coming now, behind me."

  "It's just the LSD talking. Every one just needs to chill the hell out." Corey lit up a cigarette and paced up and down.

  "This blue mist. It was everywhere."

  "The blue mist?" Michael looked exasperated, like a pre-school teacher who'd had enough dealing of children for one day. "We should go back to the center. Calm down a bit."

  "You don't believe me."

  "It's not that. I think I've just had it with everything that's been going on. I didn't mean to take it out on you."

  "I believe you. I saw it too," said Olivia.

  "When?"

  "That night at the mall. I woke up in this dream, and you had all left without me. I went to the car park, and the car was gone. And then I saw it. It was there, in the distance. I felt like it was coming for me, but it was just a dream."

  "Okay everyone. I think we need to just take a time out, sober up, and worry about this tomorrow. I can't deal with this right now." Michael went to collect his shoes from further up the beach.

  "Olivia I think I'm losing it." Dana kept looking behind herself.

  "Well, if you're losing it, I'm losing it too."

  "You know what. When I had that dream, I was so scared. But I think I saw it again. I think I was in it. But it wasn't bad. It was so peaceful. It just felt right."

  ***

  Corey laid out colorful blankets, and cushions in the lounge area while drinking his beer. At first glance, you wouldn't think he was under the influence of anything as he flitted around, tending to the others. Olivia kept staring at the patterns in the fabric of the cushion that sat on her lap. The geometric print transfixed her and seemed to be vibrating in front of her eyes.

  "Earth to Olivia."

  She looked up, blinking uncontrollably. "Sorry Corey, I was in my own little world." Even though the sun was going down, the world around her was far too bright.

  "What are your dreams like? Sometimes in mine I can't really see anything. Nothing solid anyway. Sometimes I can just feel what's going on."

  Olivia considered this for a moment. "I can see everything in mine. Sometimes my dreams are so clear, clearer than waking life. I visit the same places over and over from since I was a kid. Places far more beautiful than anything on earth. Those dreams where you wake up with this warm, light feeling and then reality hits and everything feels colorless and flat."

  "I've been there, girl."

  "Then I have these other dreams. The same four. Sometimes they're all combined. I'm alone in a city and it's so quiet, and there's no sound for the whole dream, like a silent movie. I have that feeling, though. You know the one that something big is going to happen. Someone told me once that before a disaster that you can tell. You can tell because the animals sense it before we do. The birds go mental for a bit, and then, just before, they go dead silent and nothing moves. Then it happens, but there's no sound. A huge mushroom cloud far, far in the distance. I watch it bloom into the sky."

  "That sounds terrifying."

  "That's the thing. It's not. I feel this weird sense of peace wash over me. The other dreams are the same. Giant tsunami's reaching up to the sky and coming to swallow me whole. Or there's another one Where I'm standing on top of an unimaginably tall skyscraper that the clouds are all around me like a fog, then the building starts swaying. Rocking sideways, and the wind is stronger than anything I've ever experienced, and I'm doing everything I can not to get blown off when a tornado miles wide comes. Maybe it's a cyclone. I'm not sure. Then I get in the eye of the storm. It's a vacuum in
there. Dead silence. So peaceful. Then there are the plane crash dreams. Sometimes I'm in the plane, sometimes I'm outside and it comes hurtling towards me. Then the explosion-"

  "Okay stop, You're going to give me an anxiety attack!"

  "I just feel so exhilarated after."

  "That's kind of fucked up. But I get it."

  "I'm so jealous of you."

  "Being famous isn't all it's cracked up to be."

  "I mean acting. I was in a play in school once. They made everyone audition whether they wanted to or not. I was embarrassed to do it. I was a really shy kid, but I decided if I made a mockery of it, that it would be better, so I overacted really badly. I wanted to make it as obvious as possible that I wasn't taking it seriously. But then I got the part."

  "Go you."

  "I didn't do it in the end. I flat out refused. Did the set decoration instead. I was so jealous watching them up there. My friend did drama in college, too. I would always come by and watch her. I could never summon up the courage though. I liked the comaraderie of it. All the cast buzzing afterwards. Being a part of something special."

  "Well that's a bummer."

  "Sorry, I'm completely dominating the conversation. I don't know how I can be so self-involved. I'm terrible for it."

  "Chill. I enjoy listening to that British accent."

  The others flopped out on blankets, laid across the floor. Michael just laid there, and Oliviawatched his chest rise and fall until it felt like they were breathing in sync.

  HOW THE OTHER HALF LIVE

  They were back on the road, and the car glided along the winding coast. Zoe and Corey were in a sports car in front, that must have belonged to one of the guests staying at the treatment center. Olivia stuck with her tried-and-true car, not wanting to get used to a new vehicle. This car had been with her at the beginning, and she was sticking with it. Besides, one part of her brain still clung onto the idea that she may have to return it to the rental office. That lingering part of her brain that clung on to the world she knew, a world of rules, regulations, and financial consequences.

 

‹ Prev