Love In Darkness

by E. M. Tippetts

  “Thank you,” she says.

  “You’re trying too hard, sweetie,” says one of the voices. I can never tell if they have a gender.

  “You’re welcome,” I say.

  She looks away a moment, and I think I see a tear glisten in her eye, but it’s gone with a wipe of her fingers, and then those eyes turn to me again. “You don’t even care, do you?”

  “There’s no reason he should.”

  I shake my head. “I do care.”

  “Lies!”

  Madison gestures around at the van. “But this… none of this changed your mind about anything?”

  “She’s practically begging. How sad is this?”

  “What,” I say, “was it supposed to change my mind about?”

  “He doesn’t even know.”

  “Us,” says Madison, “being together. I mean, I’m trying to show you that I’ve got a good reason to stay here in town, because I know you need to be near your mother. And I’m trying to show you that we wouldn’t need to worry about money or anything like that.”

  I shake my head. “You’re just showing how much better you are than what I’ll ever deserve.”

  “He’s right about that.”

  She takes a deep breath, and asks, “Are you completely over me?”

  This reminds me of another conversation, years ago.

  On prom night, after the dance was over, Madison and I took the cliff path down to the beach. It’s an old Pelican Bluffs prom tradition to cap the night with a beach party while everyone’s still in their formal wear. Only when we reached the rocky beach, Madison turned right, not left towards the glowing fires that cast flickering light on the figures milling around. I followed her into the deeper darkness, where the only light was from the half moon and the stars winking overhead. The air smelled of sea salt and cold stone and Madison held her shoes in one hand and the hem of her dress in the other. It was a sky blue cheongsam dress that she was devastated to learn was a Chinese style, not a Japanese one. Not that I cared. Some other catty senior had pointed this out to her, knowing it would hurt her feelings.

  We reached a low, flat rock, which she climbed onto and sat down, her weight on one hip, her legs trailing off to one side. I hopped up and sank down next to her, the chill from the rock seeping straight into my bones. My arm slipped naturally around her waist and she leaned back against me, letting me bury my face in her hair for a moment, and inhale its warm, herbal scent.

  “Alex?” her voice was small and hard to hear over the slosh of the waves.

  “Yeah?”

  “So, I know you aren’t… I mean… to be a Mormon means you aren’t sleeping with anyone.”

  Yeah, it was prom night, and a lot of her classmates were off celebrating that tradition too.

  “Would you ever even want to, with me?” Her shoulders were rigid with tension and her hands clutched at the fabric of her dress.

  “Yes,” I answered, without hesitation. I rubbed her shoulders, willing her to relax. “Of course.” It wasn’t a question of ever wanting to. I always did. I still do, and I’m pretty sure that won’t ever change.

  “Really?” she said.

  “Are you not aware of the fact that every moment you spend with me, you’re playing with fire?” I leaned down to kiss her neck, just above her mandarin collar.

  “I’m not playing with fire.”

  “Yeah. You are.” That night I’d been able to answer her question and ease her fears by pulling her into my lap and kissing her until those shoulders relaxed. It didn’t matter that I was no good with words, because we didn’t need words.

  Now, in the van with its engine ticking its way cool and her mournful gaze fixed on me, I have to use words and I don’t know how. I shut my eyes a moment and think a pleading prayer for help. I’m not up to this today. The voices have resumed arguing with each other, and I hope they stay distracted.

  Madison resumes talking. “I spent every minute that you were gone daydreaming about having you back, and I just… I don’t want to us to be over.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  “I remember how, back in high school, I started hanging around with a guy who was so far out of my league-”

  “I think you mean beneath you.” Why does she think so much of me?

  “So hot. I mean, all the girls gossiped about his looks, and he had that mysterious, kind of dangerous personality.”

  “Danger is bad,” I point out. “It’s supposed to scare you off.”

  “And I started hanging around him and learned that he wasn’t dangerous at all, he was just shy and loved his mother and didn’t get treated well at school and had all these responsibilities that no one else knew about. You were my secret, the real you, and when you kissed me, I was the luckiest girl ever.”

  Something darts away in my peripheral vision. I turn to look and while I see only the bare rock of the bluffs, I have the sense that invisible people are gathering around. They aren’t sinister. They aren’t stalking me, but they also aren’t supposed to be there, and banishing them from my thoughts requires too much energy. I wonder if these are what the voices belong to.

  I tear my gaze away from the bluffs and the ghostly figures. “Madison, my feelings for you… they never changed, okay?”

  “So you never liked me?”

  I shut my eyes and blow out my breath. “No, the opposite. I never lied to you all that time we were together. My feelings were for real.”

  “This all seems so easy for you. Not being together.”

  “It’s not. This is torture. Really.” It takes all of my willpower not to unbuckle my seatbelt and take her into my arms. In fact, I’m not sure I have enough willpower.

  “I still fantasize about marrying you.”

  The voices all burst into peals of laughter.

  I just shake my head in disbelief.

  “Would you ever want that? Even hypothetically.”

  Now my chest feels tight and I have the sense the car’s about to implode and crush us. That might be paranoia, or it might just be plain old fear. I force myself to concentrate and answer. “Yeah, but I know it’d never happen.”

  She peers at me. “Why not?”

  “Madison, I’m not a good match for you. You’ve got so much going for you and I’m just, you know...” I wave my hand ineffectually. “People used to hate me for dating you, and they were right. I took advantage of you not knowing you could do better.”

  “So did you think that the whole time we were dating? That you were taking advantage? That you’d pulled one over on me?”

  I take another deep breath before I answer that one. “Well… yeah. I did.”

  “Gee thanks.” Well, she’s mad now, and I suppose that’s a good thing. “You thought I was too stupid to know what I wanted?”

  “I don’t know,” I say. “I mean, I’m just some guy who cornered you one afternoon.”

  “Did he ever even like her?” says a voice.

  “Is he really that stupid?” chimes in another.

  “I think he should kiss her now.”

  She gives me a baffled look. “You thought it was your idea that we got together?”

  I’m confused. I can’t separate her voice from the others. “Um… I’m sorry,” I say. “I can’t do this.”

  “You can’t just walk away,” says Madison.

  “He’s got better things to do than watch her whine.”

  I force myself to concentrate. “I’m not in a good place right now.”

  “So did you really never think we’d last?” Madison’s lips are moving, so I assume she is the one who spoke.

  “She’s not real quick on the uptake, is she?” Madison’s lips don’t move that time.

  “Madison,” I say, “I assaulted you at school.”

  “What?” She looks blank for a minute. “Oh, that? Whatever.”

  “It’s not whatever.” I really need to get out of this car. My skin’s crawling and I have the urge to just run as fast and as far as I
can. I grasp the seatbelt in my fist.

  Whatever she says next is drowned out completely by the voices all laughing.

  “I gotta go.” I open the car door and all but fall out onto the concrete of my driveway.

  “Alex!” Madison shouts after me.

  “Bye. Later,” I mutter as I stumble down the steps to my front door. I need to get my head clear.

  I step into the house to the sound of my mother shrieking. “I didn’t mean to do it that way!”

  Before I can panic too much, I hear Hiroko reply. “It’s fine, Grace. Come. Let’s have some tea.”

  I arm the alarm and steal upstairs. Being screamed at by my mother while I feel a little psychotic won’t help my stress levels any. I get out my notebook and carefully jot down everything I saw and felt today. The sense that I’m being stared at hasn’t faded, but I feel more in control now that the most beautiful girl on the planet isn’t begging me to hold her.

  Yeah, I shouldn’t have even had that thought. My chest aches as I think about how easy it would be to just give in and be with her. I curl up on my bed, shut my eyes, and wish the rest of the world would just leave me alone. I guess it’s like the naps Mom takes when she’s having it rough, only I can’t fall asleep. I just pray for a rescue from all this and lie as still as I can.

  The scrape of the window opening rouses me. I don’t know if it’s been an hour or ten, and when I look up, I’m surprised to see that it’s dark. At least the voices are silent.

  Kailie climbs in and shuts the window behind her.

  “What if I’d just stepped out of the shower?” I say.

  “That’s what I keep hoping will happen.”

  “What do you want?”

  “The skinny on Madison’s secret.”

  “What secret?”

  “Oooh, it’s that secret, is it?”

  “I don’t-”

  The doorbell rings. I glance at my watch and see that it’s past ten.

  “Yeah,” says Kailie, “you go answer that. I’ll just wait up here.”

  With a baffled look in her direction I head downstairs, disarm the alarm, and open the front door to find John standing on the dark front porch, his arms folded. “I know you were out with Madison today.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Tell me what’s going on, Alex.”

  Yeah, I don’t want to get in the middle of this. “You have to ask her.”

  “I will not-”

  I cut his outburst short by holding up a hand. “You have to talk to her. I can’t help you with this.”

  “You think you can sneak around with my sister-”

  “I’m not sneaking anywhere.”

  His gaze remains hard and unyielding, and I’m out of patience. “I’m sure you know where to find Madison. And no, I did not try to get back together with her or anything like that, so ease off.” I shut the door in his face, knowing I’ll regret that.

  I turn to find Hiroko at the other end of the living room, blinking in the light.

  “It’s Madison’s brother,” I say, as if this explains it all. “He just got the wrong idea about her and me.”

  “Ah.”

  “Sorry if that woke you up.”

  “No. I just wondered who came by so late. I should have known you were out creating scandals again.”

  “Well, you know me. Women always making up stories about who I’m with.”

  Hiroko doesn’t laugh at that, just looks me over.

  I hate conversations I only half understand. I wish her goodnight and head towards the stairs.

  “Did you eat?” she asks me.

  “Yeah,” I lie. I don’t have the energy to make myself food and eat it. Besides, I’m not hungry. The light in my room is on when I get back upstairs. Kailie must’ve hit the switch. “Okay,” I say as I step inside. “John just told me off. How did you know about it?”

  Kailie’s a jumble of twiggy limbs seated on the couch, reading. The look she gives me is pure confusion.

  “Just tell me-”

  “Alex?”

  “What?”

  “Do you know you’re speaking Japanese?”

  Yeah, I really am out of it. “You know what I was saying anyway.”

  She holds up my notebook. “What’s going on with this?”

  I cross the room, snatch it from her, and toss it in my drawer. “Mind your own business.”

  “Alex-”

  “I document my symptoms and write up checklists for my own benefit. Not yours.”

  “Okay, look, I’m sorry to invade.”

  A ridiculous comment from someone who’s climbed in my window twice in one week, but she can tell from my demeanor that she’d better change the subject, and fast. “I knew John was on his way over here because he came to the Inn to interrogate me first, and I said I knew nothing other than that I’d seen her come pick you up this morning.”

  “Great. Thanks.”

  “So what’s going on?”

  “You have to ask Madison, though, no, it doesn’t involve me and her getting back together.” I sit down on my bed, hard, and rub my temples.

  “You all right?”

  “No. I’m tired and probably turning into a nutcase.”

  “I prefer the term headcase or whackjob, all right? If you’ll show some respect?”

  “Fine, I’ll always refer to you as a whackjob.”

  “Have you been taking your medication?”

  “Yes.” I realize I’m picking at my thumbnail, tugging the skin around it until it bleeds. “But it’s been a stressful day.” I suck my cuticle to stop the bleeding, my blood salty on my tongue.

  “I’m sorry if I made it worse.”

  I fold my arms and tuck my fingers in my armpits.

  “And I’m about to make it even worse-er, sorry.” She gets up and darts for my bathroom.

  “What are you doing?”

  She yanks open the medicine cabinet and grabs the prescription bottle. “Antipsychotics,” she says.

  “Yeah?”

  “You’re sure you’re taking them?”

  “Yes.”

  “I once had a delusion that my pills were poison, so I stopped taking them. Obviously, they weren’t working all that well anyway.”

  “You’ve had delusions?”

  “Bipolar people get those.”

  “Not often though, do they?”

  “Doing LSD definitely ups the risk.”

  “You’re an idiot.”

  “I was. I was trying to be cool.” She shuts the medicine cabinet. “Live and learn. You sure you feel okay?”

  “No.”

  “Tell me. Everything.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I need to know if you’re agitated for a good reason or not.” She puts her hands on her hips, her bony arms jutting out like bird wings.

  I run my fingers through my hair, shut my eyes a moment, then answer. “Madison wants to get back together still.”

  “And you don’t?”

  “We can’t. I’m not gonna do to her what you did.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You proved that even kicking her in the face isn’t enough to make her give up on you. She has to give up on me. Now.”

  “Oh.”

  “So yeah, I’m agitated. Maybe you wouldn’t be.”

  Kailie looks me up and down. “I’ll be back tomorrow. Call me if anything happens tonight.” With that she marches out of my bathroom and past me to the window. “Seriously, okay? Anytime, call me. Like you say, I’ve got a pretty big karmic debt to Madison.”

  I’m not even sure what that means. Once she’s out the window I shut it and pull the blind. Then I do my evening checklist, and go to bed. The voices chatter away, but I ignore the words.

  The next morning, as I pick my way through a bowl of cereal, the doorbell rings. I go to open it and find Kailie, gripping the frame on either side, posing like a model or… something. “Hey,” she says.

  I raise an
eyebrow and don’t answer.

  She makes a grab for my wrist and I jump back. “In my car, now,” she orders.

  “What?”

  “Don’t mess with me. I’m a whackjob, remember? You have no idea what I might do.”

  “Very funny.”

  “Just go. Come on. It’ll be all right, okay?”

  “Kailie…”

  “Whoa, hang on. Lemme see your hands.”

  I fold my arms and tuck my hands in my armpits.

  “Seriously, let me see. I’m really not screwing around now.”

  I clench and unclench my jaw, then unfold my arms and show her my hands, which have pockmark scabs and several nails that have gone black from blood seeping underneath.

  “That all since last night?”

  “I dunno. It’s just one of those things.”

  “In my car, now, Alex. This is serious.”

  I don’t even bother to say, “Or else?” I just go.

  Dr. Maliki is in his waiting room when we arrive at his office on Main Street. Kailie and I have the same psychiatrist. Everyone in Pelican Bluffs has the same psychiatrist and he works half days much of the time, that’s how small this town is. He’s a tall guy with a head so bald that it shines like a waxed billiard ball and Coke bottle glasses that make his brown eyes seem to jump right off his face. His whole practice, waiting room and office, is decorated with Middle Eastern flair, from Persian carpets to intricate wood inlay furniture. Given there’s no receptionist sitting behind the desk right now, I gather he’s come in outside of his usual hours just to see me.

  I know things are bad when I see his expression, which is dead serious. If he’s treated Kailie, I assume he’s got the same longsuffering attitude as everyone else when it comes to her quirks. His expression says loud and clear that this is no quirk.

  “Show him your hands,” Kailie orders.

  With an irritated sidelong glance at her, I hold out my hands.

  Dr. Maliki takes one look, then lifts his gaze to my face. “How’ve you been feeling?”

  When other people have asked that, I’ve been irritated, but when Dr. Maliki asks that, I feel like a kid caught with shoplifted cigarettes.