Marionette

by T. B. Markinson

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Liddy take notice. Great!

  “Where do you have in mind?” I asked my faux boyfriend.

  “Fancy Mexican?” His eyes shimmered.

  My stomach grumbled and color rushed to my face.

  “Goodness, we better get going.” Tom flashed a sweet smile.

  I had hardly finished packing my bag and had made to sling it over my shoulder when Tom took it from me.

  Again, Liddy took notice. She watched intently from across the room.

  I gave her a wave and rushed out. Did she notice how red I was? Would she know what I was up to?

  One reason I had wanted to go this school was that it was small, but not too small. Not everyone knew each other. However, I hadn’t factored in one thing: a small place meant most people knew each other. It was not the best planning on my part if I truly wanted to keep my life private.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Friday arrived and I prepared myself for a deluge of questions from Liddy. Who was the boy? Why was he carrying my bag? Had Jess and I broken up? What happened to being a lesbo?

  I wasn’t expecting Liddy to ignore it altogether, but she did.

  “How was your week, Paige?”

  “Just dandy, and yours?”

  Liddy locked her eyes on mine. “I have no complaints.”

  Really? Because I have tons. I wondered what her daily life consisted of. Listening to clients bitch and complain all day—‌how fucking annoying. Shrinks should figure out who can be helped and then kill the rest. Boom! Done!

  “What are you thinking so hard about?” Liddy’s question brought me back to the room.

  “Uh, can I pass on that one?” I tapped my fingers on the arm of my chair.

  “Maybe. Why don’t we go back to last week’s session?”

  I interrupted, “If I answer your question, can we not go back?” I smiled to cajole her.

  It didn’t work.

  “I don’t think so, Paige.” She moved her head from side to side.

  I wasn’t buying the act. “But you aren’t positive. I was thinking that people who are depressed are downers to be around and that you and your colleagues should start selecting the hopeless cases and picking them off. Why bother?”

  “So you consider yourself hopeless?”

  I wasn’t sure how to respond. If I said yes, would she put me in an institution? Images from One Flew over the Cuckoo’s Nest flashed before my eyes.

  “Can you stop asking me questions?” I rubbed my face with both hands. “All questions. Even, ‘How do you like your coffee?’”

  “I already know the answer to that one.”

  I looked up confused. “What?”

  “With lots of sugar.”

  I smiled meekly. “What is it like?

  “What do you mean, Paige? I have a feeling you aren’t talking about drinking coffee.”

  I chuckled, but it sounded more like a cat hacking up a hairball. “Correct. What’s it like dealing with people like me?”

  “You mean hopeless cases?” Her raised eyebrow suggested that she didn’t subscribe to that belief.

  “Yeah.”

  “I don’t see you that way. I don’t see any of my clients that way.”

  “Really? Come on. Could you have helped Hitler?”

  She laughed. “Thankfully, he was never one of my clients. Now what’s going on? You can stall all you want, but we will address the issue you are so desperately trying to dance around.”

  I sighed heavily. “It started five years ago.”

  Liddy looked like she wanted to pat me on the back and say, “I knew you could do it.” Instead, she nodded her head for me to continue.

  “Alex tried to tell me—‌to warn me—‌but I was too stupid to heed it.”

  “What do you mean? What did she warn you about?”

  “That’s just it, she just kept telling me that we had to get out. We had to leave before they found out. Before they acted.”

  “Who? What?” Liddy wriggled in her chair, clearly eager for me to spit it out.

  “My parents. She warned me about my parents.”

  “What did she say?”

  “That we needed to leave.”

  “Leave? Leave for where? From what?”

  “Home. We had to leave home.”

  “Why?”

  “She wouldn’t tell me. She just kept saying we had to leave. That if they found out we knew, we were done for.”

  I stood up and paced the tiny room. The walls seemed to move closer and closer, and I frantically tried to escape by striding back and forth.

  “Paige, tell me everything she said.”

  “I wish I could. I don’t remember much.” I tugged on my collar, trying to get air. “All I remember was that she kept saying we had to leave. No matter what, we had to leave.”

  “Did you?”

  “No.” I stopped dead in my tracks. “No, I didn’t. At the time, Alex was always hopped up on coke. I thought she was having a bad episode, and I ignored her.”

  “What did she say?”

  “I didn’t understand much. She was panicking. I wanted to run away with her. I meant to. But I didn’t.”

  “Did she?”

  “No. And her death is my fault.”

  “Paige, I’m sure that’s not true.”

  “It is. If I had listened to her, she would still be alive. But I didn’t. I didn’t listen. I should have tried harder to escape.” I fell heavily back into my seat and placed my head in my hands. Rocking back and forth in my chair, I repeated, “I’m sorry.”

  “Paige, listen to me. Alex’s death was not your fault.”

  “But you don’t understand. If I had listened and if we had left like she said we should, then she would be alive.”

  “How old were you when this happened?” Liddy leaned back in her chair.

  “Uh, thirteen”

  “How were two kids supposed to leave home? Where did she suggest you go?”

  “She didn’t say, but anywhere would have been better.”

  “I don’t want to sound insincere, and I’m trying my best to understand.” Liddy lowered her head so I could see her face. “Can you help me understand?”

  “The next day, Alex was sent to rehab. That was the last time I saw her. She died in rehab, of an overdose.”

  “Did you ever find out what she was talking about?”

  “Yes. But it was too late. She tried to warn me, but I didn’t listen that night.”

  “You can’t be blamed for her addiction. How were you supposed to know she would have access to drugs in rehab?”

  “If I had listened to her warning, she wouldn’t have been in rehab,” I shouted.

  “Rehab didn’t kill her, Paige. The drugs killed her.”

  “No they didn’t. She killed her.”

  Liddy looked over her shoulder. “Who?”

  “I’m trying to explain. It all started that night—‌when Alex tried to warn me. I was too stupid to listen. Because I didn’t, she’s dead. She wouldn’t leave without me. If she had left, she wouldn’t be dead. Plain and simple.”

  Liddy cupped her hands under her chin and scrutinized my face. Slowly, her frustration melted away and she asked calmly, “How do you know she wouldn’t leave without you?”

  “She told me—‌she told me that night she wouldn’t go unless I went. Maybe she thought I was placating her, and that I didn’t take her seriously. But she said she would drag me away if she had to. Instead, they dragged her away, kicking and screaming.” I rubbed my eyes. “God, it was an awful scene. The cops. The flashing lights from their cars. And Alex. She stood in the middle of the street in a ripped T-shirt and jeans screaming for me. Her eyes—‌they pierced right through me.”

  “What was she screaming?”

  “My name. She kept repeating my name and saying she wouldn’t let them take me.”

  “Take you, not her?”

  “Yeah. I didn’t understand at the time. My mom
barricaded me in the house. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get to Alex.”

  “But you understand now.” Liddy coaxed.

  “Yes. I understand. That’s why it’s hopeless.”

  “Paige, I need you to know: you are not hopeless.”

  Oh, but I am, Liddy. I am. I raised my eyes slowly to hers. “I should have listened to her.”

  It must have been obvious that I was too worked up to continue for the day, because Liddy asked, “What are your plans for this weekend? Will you be with Jess?”

  I stifled a sigh. Jess. My promise to Jess. If only Jess knew all of it, she would understand. She wouldn’t hold me to it. If only she knew. This farce was for her.

  Nodding my head feebly, I gathered my backpack and jacket.

  Liddy placed her hand on my arm. “Wait.” She opened a desk drawer and pulled out her business card. Flipping it over, she then scribbled something on the back. I noticed Japanese writing and smiled. It was the same as my monkey tattoo.

  “Take this. It has all of my emergency numbers on it. If you need it, don’t hesitate to call.”

  Again I nodded, unconvincingly. I didn’t have the energy to speak. Placing the card into the back pocket of my jeans, I left the room.

  Outside, the cold air invaded my lungs. The burning in my chest and throat made me gasp. I couldn’t remember a colder winter. As soon as November had hit, the temperatures plummeted. Snowflakes fluttered around my head, but it was too cold for serious accumulation. If I hadn’t seen the flakes with my own eyes, I wouldn’t have believed they existed. The ground was dry as the desert.

  Halfway to my dorm, I stopped. My car was parked on the opposite side of campus, but if I left now, I would be at Jess’s when she got off work. Being around Minnie, Tom, and Karen seemed overwhelming. I wasn’t deserving of friends.

  It’s hopeless. This whole fucking situation is hopeless. Why had she waited so long to finish the job she started five years ago? Why?

  Turning around in my tracks, I trudged over the frozen ground to my car. The inside of my car didn’t offer me any relief from the cold. The steering wheel wouldn’t budge, and the gear shift felt like Excalibur, set in the stone. I had to sit and wait for the heat to kick in, and I didn’t have the energy to shut the vents off. I sat there for I don’t know how long with arctic air blasting directly on me.

  Staring at the field ahead of me, I wondered how long it would take to walk to the horizon. Is that where Alex wants us to go? Head west until we reach the ocean?

  Would the ocean have stopped her? Knowing her, no obstacle would have stopped her. She was strong. Courageous. Not frail like me. I stared at my tattoos. She wouldn’t have needed them. I wiped a tear off my arm.

  “Come now, don’t be weak.”

  I felt warm air against my face. The heat was finally working. I tested the steering wheel; miraculously, it worked. I turned my car onto the highway and aimed for the horizon. The road disappeared under my wheels, but no matter how far or how fast I drove, it kept coming. I felt like Ms. Packman eating white dots. On and on it came, faster and faster. A smile spread across my face.

  “Alex, I’m listening now.”

  * * *

  Hours later, I found myself outside of Jess’s apartment. I jiggled the key in the lock, trying to force the icy knob to accept the key. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a figure lurking in the shadows. Frozen, I didn’t move. Was my mom making her move finally?

  “Hello.”

  I turned to face the man and quickly determined that he was no killer. His angelic face matched his innocent voice.

  “I didn’t mean to startle you.” He put his palms up.

  “Oh, I just didn’t see you there.”

  “Are you friends with Jess? I was hoping to see her.” He looked around nervously, as though he expected someone to jump out of the shadows and attack him.

  “I don’t think she’s home yet.” It was freezing out, so I added, “Do you want to wait inside?”

  He smiled, and his entire face transformed into a confident and deadly warrior. “That’s very kind of you, Paige. But I have to meet another friend.”

  Paige? I didn’t remember saying my name. Maybe Jess had told him. Or maybe this guy was fucking with me. My blood went cold. Was this my mother’s game? Torture me slowly? Make it look like I was actually going cuckoo?

  “Can I say who stopped by?”

  “Tell her Davie wanted to say hi.” The sweet voice returned, but his eyes looked like a wolf on the hunt. Was I the prey?

  “Okay, Davie.” I tried to hold my ground, but my voice faltered.

  He placed a hand on my shoulder. “I’m sure I’ll see you again. Now, you better get inside before you freeze to death.”

  I nodded.

  “Adios, Paige.”

  I nodded again. Why did he keep saying my name? And why did he say it like that? Like he owned me.

  When he reached the bottom of the staircase, I watched from the front window of Jess’s apartment to see which car he got into. However, he didn’t saunter to a car. Instead, he skulked through the parking lot and ducked behind another apartment building. Who was he? Did he stalk all of his prey on foot?

  After several minutes, I determined that Davie wasn’t making his way back. I made sure the front door was locked and then headed for the shower. My entire body was frozen. When Jess and I ditched this town and my parents, I hoped we ended up on a tropical island. There wasn’t a single thing I liked about winter. For those who think snow is pretty, how do you feel about it when you slip on it and crack your ass? Or when you can’t feel your fingers and toes?

  An hour later, I was curled up in front of the fireplace, reading an Agatha Christie novel.

  Jess bounded in the front door. “Goodness, Paige. It’s like breaking into Fort Knox.” She gestured to the front door before leaning down and kissing the top of my head.

  “Sorry, some dude gave me the creeps when I got here.”

  “Oh, do you mean Jimmy? He’s harmless,” she said, heading for the kitchen.

  Jimmy was her next-door neighbor who never left his apartment. He just stood furtively behind his window and leered at everyone within sight. I don’t think Jimmy was his actual name, but Jess called him that after Jimmy Stewart in Rear Window.

  “No, it wasn’t Jimmy.” I didn’t like Jimmy, but I had grown accustomed to him. Besides, he had a calming effect. If he was staring out the window, I knew he would know if something wasn’t right. I thought back and wondered if he had noticed my conversation with Davie.

  Jess returned to the front room with a beer. Plopping down on the couch next to me, she said, “Are you going to tell me who this mystery person was?”

  “He said he’s a friend of yours. Davie.”

  Jess sipped her beer slowly and looked out the window.

  “Do you know him?”

  There was no response.

  “Seriously, Jess. Tell me!” I poked her ribcage with my finger.

  “Ouch!” Jess laughed. “Okay, I was just messing with you. I think you’ve been reading too much Agatha Christie. Of course I know Davie. Don’t get your panties in a bunch.” She pushed my shoulder. “Maybe we should have you read some more Austen or something, so your imagination doesn’t go wild.”

  “Who is he?”

  “Oh, he’s just a guy I know. He’s…” She stopped. Usually, Jess wasn’t speechless.

  “He’s what?”

  “He’s just odd. I think something bad happened to him, and he doesn’t know how to talk to people. But don’t worry about Davie.” She patted my leg like I was a child.

  She was holding something back, and I was determined to find out what. But I knew she wouldn’t budge at the moment.

  She held the beer bottle against her cheek. “It’s bloody hot in here, Paige.” Her pale face started to color.

  “It’s bloody cold out there. Let’s move some place tropical.” I closed my eyes and imagined sitting on a beach.
<
br />   “Speaking of tropical, how would you like to go to the Denver Art Museum tonight?”

  “Tonight! It’s fucking cold out.”

  “Oh, don’t be a pansy. I have tickets to an exhibition on Matisse’s life. It will spur your desire to move to an island and become a painter.”

  Her eyes bewitched me.

  I groaned, knowing I wouldn’t be able to say no. I never could. Jess’s magnetism was more powerful than that of any snake charmer—‌not that I knew any, but my money was still on Jess.

  “Will there at least be naked ladies for me to gawk at?”

  “Only in the paintings, and I’m not sure they’ll be your type.”

  “What, this isn’t performance art? Such a shame.” I feigned disappointment.

  “Go on, put on some decent clothes, not my pink sweats.”

  “Don’t blame me for your lack of style. I didn’t pack any clothes for the weekend, so I only have what I wore; hopefully, that will pass muster.”

  She eyed me. “Was it that bad today?”

  “Running into Davie, the creep. Yes!”

  “Why don’t you ever talk about therapy with me?”

  “I do!”

  Jess threw her scarf at me. “All right, I’ll drop it. As for your clothes, we’ll add some accessories and make you look decent.”

  I wrapped her scarf around me. “This is a good start. Do you have any long underwear?”

  “It’s not that cold out.”

  “It’s below zero, and that’s without the wind chill!”

  “Always so dramatic.” She threw her arm up and pretended to faint. “Maybe Austen isn’t good for you either. You and your imagination are starting to act like Catherine Morland.”

  “Whatever. I’m hungry.”

  “Good. I found this wonderful new Italian place.”

  Two hours later, I found myself wandering through the first floor of the art museum and staring not at the paintings but at all of the people. I kept expecting to see Davie burst out from behind a pillar or something. Why had he shaken me up so much? Jess had said he was a friend of hers. She wouldn’t lie about that, would she?

  “Have you even looked at one display?” Jess tugged my arm to get my attention.

  “Of course,” I lied.