Bleed Through

by Arrington, Adriana

  While Isaac and Allison shared a worried glance, Tasha shot Liam a wink and pushed her right hand in front of her, just perceptibly.

  He winked back.

  “How was work, Isaac?” Liam asked. According to Dr. Jen, engagement was a cardinal sign of mental health. So engage he would.

  “Rather subpar. We’re working through some personnel issues.” Isaac tapped his golden wedding band.

  Now Liam didn’t have to pretend to be engaged. “Is somebody at work exhibiting signs of aggression?” Belatedly, he realized his voice held too much excitement.

  “No.” Isaac frowned. “One of our paralegals is acting erratically, showing up for work late, leaving early. I might have to fire him.”

  The cheap fork in Liam’s hand bent as he gripped it tight. “What does he look like?”

  If possible, Isaac’s frown deepened. “Why do you ask?”

  He fidgeted in his seat. “Thought maybe I’d seen him around.”

  “You have no reason to know him.” Isaac’s shoulders tensed. Liam had a special way of worrying him.

  The tension summoned Joshua. He hunched over Isaac; mere millimeters separated their faces. “Change the topic, dumbass. You’re freaking him out.”

  Liam imagined throwing his plate, still loaded with kale salad and sliced beets, at Joshua’s head. Blood red beets slid down his face and left a crimson trail down the contours of his neck.

  “Go ahead, do it.” Joshua’s beady eyes bored into Liam’s.

  With a restraint Dr. Jen would cheer, Liam scratched his cheek. He said, “So what was the deal down at the yacht club?”

  “Word has it Security Forces scoured the docks and marina for drugs. Anonymous tip.” Allison tugged on her braid. “Looks like they came up empty, though. All the cruisers left, and the marina is open for business again. Probably some idiot wanting attention.”

  His previous feeling of satisfaction, still new and uninvestigated, shattered. “Security Forces didn’t find anything?”

  Isaac crossed his arms. “What did you expect them to find?”

  The two men locked eyes.

  “Nothing. Just seems like an awful lot of activity for an empty tip.”

  Isaac’s forehead wrinkled in suspicion.

  “Stellar job at redirecting his attention,” Joshua said. “Are you going to tell him next you kill puppies for fun?”

  “What’s the plan for tomorrow, Mom?” Liam gagged down a kale leaf.

  She blinked. Normally, he couldn’t care less about their schedule.

  Yes, notice this, me on my best behavior. I’m getting better, see?

  “I’ve got an important showing in the morning, but I’ll be back by late afternoon. Isaac will be here with Tasha and you,” she said.

  He smiled. “Hey, Isaac, how about we take an old-fashioned, family bike ride in the morning?” Whatever bonus points he’d scored during the conversation zeroed out. He knew better than to ask in front of Tasha, but scheduling any type of activity with his younger sister required extraordinary, and sometimes unsavory, measures.

  Another frown from Isaac. Quite the workout he gave his lower chin tonight. “We’ll see.”

  Joshua paced behind Isaac. “I’m gonna give him something real to worry about.”

  A knife, long, serrated, and sharp, glinted in Joshua’s hands. He lunged toward Isaac, aiming for his broad back.

  A low rumble from under the table, followed in quick succession by a hair-raising hiss, caught his family off guard. RP charged Joshua once again, who screamed in rage before disappearing. His knife clattered to the floor, unnoticed by the rest of the family. RP skidded into the kitchen, hackles up and eyes wide.

  “What’s the matter with RP?” asked Tasha. She went to stand, but Isaac placed a firm hand on her arm and kept her seated.

  “There’s no telling, baby girl. We brought that cat in from the wild, but the wild still lives in him. It’s best to leave him be when he acts squirrelly.” Allison peered into the kitchen, unnerved by the cat’s actions despite her composed explanation. Under the low light of the chandelier, she caught Isaac’s eye and shrugged.

  They had no idea.

  The meal ended in a familiar uneasy silence, which Liam hoped Tasha was too young to notice. He helped with the dishes―more engagement!―then begged off for the night. On the way to his room, he passed Tasha on the couch. Cross-legged, she peeled stickers from a princess book and transferred them to her collectibles album. To streamline the process, she’d stuck a number of the sparkly stickers on her nose and cheeks. She grabbed one from her face and adhered it to the proper spot in her album.

  “Good night, Liam,” she sang out. She blew a kiss and giggled when he caught it and smashed it on his nose. Just as a smile crept up his face, motion in his peripheral vision caught his attention.

  Cull stood by the back door, towering over Tasha. Covered in blood, his little sister fought for breath underneath the killer’s tight chokehold. Cull held a gun in his hand and waved it across the room.

  Liam gasped and turned his head to the couch, where Tasha continued to organize her album, oblivious to any peril. Empty space replaced the vision when he darted his eyes again to the back door.

  Terrified of the image he’d seen, Liam bolted to his room. RP trotted behind and indolently settled onto the papasan after Liam closed his door. Typically, Joshua sat in the papasan. But as long as RP curled up in it, Joshua wouldn’t come near.

  “It’s not real, it’s not real, it’s not real,” he muttered. But no matter how many times he repeated the mantra, his pulse refused to slow.

  The image was simply that. An idea. Nothing more. His mind threw together random hallucinations to confuse him. Tasha was safe.

  In a last-bid effort to redirect his thoughts, he dared to ruffle RP’s fur. The cat tilted his head to the side as Liam worked the soft skin behind his ears. A purr as loud as a Harley Davidson motor rumbled from RP’s chest.

  “What’s with the protective detail?”

  With a large yawn, RP rolled over to his back and bared his belly. Five days ago, this simple act of trust would’ve been unthinkable. Somehow, the cat had warmed up to him.

  The animal’s transformation showed changes weren’t always bad. Sometimes, they were beneficial.

  Like his latest decision. He was done with medicine.

  Despite what Dr. Jen thought, Liam didn’t have a choice in the matter. He couldn’t bear the weight of his family’s secret burdens. Strangers’ projections proved difficult enough to process, but the mental cost of watching his mother wish for a version of him that didn’t exist anymore? Torture.

  If that memory had been the worst of the visions, though, he might have been able to live with them. The final, crushing blow had been Cull threatening Tasha. Liam couldn’t bear to see his sister hurt, even with imagined injuries. Whatever tricks his mind may play on him while psychotic had to be better.

  SATURDAY, AUGUST 30th

  he morning started as a typical Saturday. Allison sold houses to families happier than hers, Isaac read the newspaper while keeping an eye on Liam, and Tasha tuned into her favorite TV program, a cartoon about rainbow-vomiting unicorns or some such adorable nonsense.

  Most mornings, Liam picked at his cereal, a healthy oat and nut concoction his mother had created. Not today. He’d eaten all but the dregs due to his stronger than usual appetite.

  “Liam, come over here! You’ve got to see what Sissy is doing!” Tasha shrieked from the couch.

  Isaac snapped the newspaper low. “Who’s Sissy?”

  “My friend,” said Tasha. “She’s sitting right next to me. She’s making the silliest faces!”

  The newspaper tumbled to the floor as Isaac stood. “There’s nobody in this room but the three of us,” he said.

  “Well, I knew you wouldn’t be able to see her, Daddy, so I called for Liam. He can see people the rest of us can’t.”

  Isaac curled his arms over his head and shot Liam a malevol
ent glare like he’d purposely spread his psychological cancer to Tasha.

  For a few awkward moments, only the high-pitched voices from Tasha’s cartoon kept the family room from becoming deathly silent. But Liam refused to allow his baby sister to feel like a freak. He pushed out from the table and strode over to the couch.

  Tasha had a visitor, all right. Sissy wasn’t the one keeping her company, though. Arms crossed behind his head, Joshua smirked in the seat next to her.

  “Hey, look at that. Your sister is just as batshit crazy as you are.”

  Sweat beaded on Liam’s brow. He pointed at empty air and laughed. “Is silly string coming out of her nose?”

  “Yes!” giggled Tasha. She held up her pastel-green teddy bear and rubbed it all over “Sissy’s” face.

  “Now it’s on Teddy!” She dissolved into laughter and rolled on her side.

  “Then it’s time for Sissy to go home. She’s made a big enough mess.” He made a show of jumping in the air before landing on the couch and rooting his butt around the seat for emphasis.

  “Is she gone?” Isaac whispered.

  “Completely!” Tasha snuggled against Liam. Her tight curls fell around his shoulder, and she placed her teddy bear in his arms. “You’re even funnier than Sissy.”

  “Of course I am.”

  He sat on the couch with his sister as long as he dared. Like a stone statue behind them, Isaac stood frozen in shock and dismay. Fear rolled off him in waves. Finally, it came.

  “Liam, I’d like to speak with you.”

  “You’re in some serious trouble, young man.” Joshua mocked Isaac by imitating his voice and tone. He lit a cigarette. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of Tasha while you’re talking with Daddy dearest. Maybe I’ll have Sissy come back for a visit.”

  Liam returned Teddy to his sister and gave her a fond kiss on the top of her head. “Enjoy your cartoons, kid.”

  Entranced by the show, she bobbed her head. One pony had betrayed the other, and her treachery bubbled to the surface.

  Isaac pointed to the front door. The two stepped outside and met under the carport.

  “She’s too young to be exhibiting symptoms.” Isaac looked out toward the ocean, unwilling to make eye contact with his stepson.

  “Yes, she is,” said Liam, “and that’s why you’ve got to lighten up. She’s just got an imaginary friend. Lots of kids her age do. It’s not her fault she’s related to me.”

  “There are cases, though, aren’t there? Of young children being diagnosed with schizophrenia?” Isaac leaned a trembling hand against the carport wall.

  A hot, sticky breeze pushed against Liam’s back. He awaited a reappearance of psychotic Tasha with dread.

  But no white fringe surrounded his stepfather. No glowing halos of misery emerged from his skin.

  Liam didn’t require any further proof. The medication had given him these awful powers.

  “There are. But they’re also incredibly rare. And I doubt Tasha would laugh at a hallucination. Mine were never funny or nice.” Liam tried to convince himself as well as Isaac. Though he didn’t want to admit it, the episode had left him rattled as well.

  Tasha was healthy and needed to stay that way.

  “You can’t talk anymore about your hallucinations. It’s not healthy for your sister,” Isaac said. “She deserves a normal childhood.”

  “I only slipped up and mentioned Joshua once in front of Tasha. Believe it or not, I want the same life for her that you do. I want her to grow up to be happy and healthy. Besides, I would never wish my condition upon somebody else. Not even you.”

  His stepfather didn’t laugh.

  “Whatever you do, don’t make a big deal out of it.” Liam clapped his hands together and kept them in a prayer pose. “Chances are if you never mention it again, neither will Tasha. Take her out of the house, and go somewhere fun for the morning. You’ll both feel better.”

  Isaac tapped the wall and stared at him.

  “Listen, I know you don’t think of me as the voice of reason, but alternate perceptions of reality are pretty much right in my wheelhouse,” said Liam. “Trust me.”

  His stepfather took a deep breath. “All right, I’ll take her to the beach today. That’ll give you some time alone as well.”

  Stunned Isaac had agreed with him, he scratched his back and thought up a proper response. He didn’t have much practice with harmonious decisions.

  “Sounds like a plan,” he said.

  iam wiped sweaty palms on his khaki cargo shorts and stared at his phone like it could grow fangs and bite him. He hadn’t called a girl in years. Matter of fact, he wasn’t sure he even knew how to hold a phone conversation anymore. But he had to tell Mai their big plan had fallen flat. After a few false starts, he sent her a text message―it demanded less courage than a call.

  “Hey, Mai, Liam here. Anonymous tip didn’t work. I’m fine,” he wrote.

  He held his breath and stared at his phone. How long should he wait for a reply? Minutes? Hours? Would she respond at all?

  Mere seconds later, his phone lit up with an incoming message. His heart banged against his chest, and he exhaled years of pent-up frustration.

  “What?!? How can that be?” she texted.

  “Don’t know. Maybe I imagined it,” he responded.

  “No way. It’s real. Let’s meet.”

  Liam jumped and pumped his fist in the air. Mai wanted to see him. Today.

  “When can you escape?” she texted.

  “Anytime.”

  “Then I’ll meet you at the Hog & Claw at noon. Don’t be late.”

  “Hog & Claw?” he said out loud in dismay. He often drove past the dive of a barbecue restaurant located across the bay from the paper plant. If the wind blew the wrong way, the stench of paper production filled his car, not cooked pig. Mai needed to improve her taste in restaurants, and fast.

  “See you soon,” he texted.

  Exhilarated by the successful conversation, albeit a text one, he tossed his phone onto his navy bedspread. He didn’t need any freaking pills. Mai proved it. Not only did she like him, she’d asked him out to lunch. All while he was under the influence of nothing but his own mind. She deserved the whole truth. She needed to see evidence of the murder.

  He fished through his underwear drawer, looking for the small bag of cocaine he’d taken from the yacht club, but no plastic crinkled under his fingers. His breathing grew increasingly heavy as he sifted through each item of clothing before tossing it to the floor, searching for the little clear bag with the white powder. Soon enough, his drawer lay empty.

  The drugs weren’t there.

  Joshua said, “Mrs. Channer probably took the coke. I bet she’s a junkie. It would explain a lot of her behaviors.” A rumpled packet of cigarettes crackled as he dug it out of his black leather jacket.

  Much as he wanted to believe Joshua, he couldn’t ignore the facts. He collapsed onto his bed and rubbed his eyes. “Mrs. Channer didn’t do anything. I hallucinated the drugs.”

  “That’s what she wants you to believe. It’s all part of the conspiracy. I have to hand it to her, this latest maneuver is pretty effective. Look at you, simpering about your mental health. Why don’t you bend over and let her finish the job while you’re at it?” Joshua kicked the wall with his steel-toed boots in disgust.

  “What am I supposed to tell Mai?” He cradled his head in his hands.

  Joshua swatted away his fingers. “You don’t owe her an explanation. If she doesn’t believe you, who cares?”

  “I do.”

  Joshua spit in his face. Saliva dripped down his cheek and settled on his chin.

  “Why do you need her to like you? Aren’t I good enough? I’m always on your side. Stop pushing me away. I’m all you need.” Joshua pitched his muscled body onto the papasan and pointed at Liam’s chin. “Wipe that shit off your face. It disgusts me.”

  Liam used his sleeve to clean his chin and contemplated his options. He could fess up
to hallucinating the drugs, and in all likelihood, the murder too. Mai’d abandon him, then, after she learned the truth. Happened in all of his relationships. Sooner or later, people realized the difficulties of being friends with him outweighed the benefits.

  The idea of losing her turned his stomach. Not many people accepted him. Who knew when he’d find another friend, much less one as devastatingly gorgeous as Mai? He’d spent the past few years companionless. The loneliness ached.

  He did have one other option. He could play along with his own delusion and see how far Mai followed. At some point, she’d discover her folly, but until then, he’d have more time with her.

  “You’re some sort of screwed up.” Joshua poked a finger in the air. “Can’t even tell up from down, can you?”

  He avoided Joshua’s stare as he put on his socks.

  “This Mai woman is going to see right through you. She’ll know by the end of today what a fraud you are.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not.” Liam snapped the tight cotton material against his calves.

  “There’s no maybe about it. She’ll know you’re lying.”

  Liam threw on his shoes and tiptoed down the hall into his mother’s room. The top dresser drawer, the one where she stashed a small pile of cash, stuck as he tugged on it. He planted his feet wide and pulled harder. With a groaning creak, the drawer gave up its fight and slid open. He plucked out the money, stuffed it in his wallet, and shoved the drawer back in place.

  “Stealing from your mom? Bad idea, jackass. Don’t give her any more reasons than she already has to institutionalize you,” said Joshua.

  A bottle of Isaac’s cologne sat on the dresser. On impulse, Liam lifted it and squirted it directly in Joshua’s eyes. He screamed shrilly and clawed at his face before blinking out of sight.

  “I didn’t ask for your opinion, jackass. Work on your manners.” Liam walked through the sinking scented cloud and made his way to the dining room, where Isaac read The Economist.

  “May I borrow the car?” he asked.

  “I’m taking Tasha to the beach. Remember?” Isaac said.

  “Can’t you walk there?” He waved at the blue waves visible from the dining room windows.