Love In Darkness

by E. M. Tippetts

  I step inside, take a deep breath, and will them to go away.

  In a flash they close in, whipping out tentacles of their ethereal substance to yank me away from the door. Wherever they touch me burns like ice. Their faces wink into existence, all lines and veins and anger. I break free of their frigid grasp and make my escape to the back hallway and the stairs, though a little voice in my head says I shouldn’t go deeper into the house. It’s too late to turn back, though. Faces melt out of the walls and hurtle towards me, eyes like slits and mouths open and cavernous.

  I stumble into my room, but I can sense that here too the veil between our world and theirs is about to tear wide open. My bed is too low to get under. My bathroom doesn’t provide a good place to hide. I go into my closet, shut the door, and curl up with my old pairs of shoes and a few broken hangers. If I curl into a tight enough ball, perhaps I’ll disappear. Perhaps they won’t find me. I can sense their anger like a storm brewing just beyond this flimsy door.

  I don’t dare pray aloud, just fold my arms and think as hard as I can. Only, what if they can sense my thoughts? I’m as good as dead. It’s just a matter of time until they find me.

  “Alex?” Madison’s voice, as if from across a great distance.

  I don’t know if it’s real or imagined, or if I actually feel the sensation of air moving across my skin, or if that’s her hand on my arm. Her voice chatters some nonsense and then, “You’re safe, okay? I’ve called for help.”

  “Alex, listen.” Kailie’s voice. “You’re in the hospital, and I’m here. You’re safe, and I’m right here. Madison… they wouldn’t let her in because of that whole thing with John last time, but she’s outside. She wants to be here.”

  I feel my eyes blink, but the world stays the same, featureless and unrelenting. There is no hospital room, no chair for Kailie to sit on. No Kailie, even. I’m in the world of the voices now. Figures drift in the empty space, malevolent and hungry.

  “Okay, Alex?” Kailie goes on. “Don’t feel alone. I’ll be right here.”

  “Alex? It’s Siraj. We didn’t know you were back in town. We would have come over and cooked you a feast.”

  “Is he dead?” One of the twins’ voices.

  “Not dead. He’s in a kind of sleep. It’s a health condition he has.”

  “He seems dead.”

  “Now, now. Don’t say that. So Alex, I don’t know if you remember when you came to ask me about my sisters’ visa status. It cleared a few things up for me. It reminded me of what matters. It’s to be with the people we love, you know? So, I spoke to my brother and I wrote to our senators and our congresswoman. They’ve agreed to take up my cause, while I’ve looked into moving back to India, moving to Canada, who knows where I’ll be in a few months?”

  “But we’ll stay together,” says one of the twins.

  “Yes, that’s what matters,” he agrees. “Lalitha, don’t pinch him like that.”

  The pain is enough to make me gasp.

  “See, he’s not dead.”

  “That’s quite rude. Don’t do that.”

  “I just wanted to check. Hey Alex, wake up so we can feed you, all right?”

  Madison sits on the chair and leans her head against my mattress. I know I’m on a mattress now, in a hospital room, even though it fades in and out. She doesn’t. But, I remember, she’s not here. She’s not allowed. Which is the delusion and which is the reality?

  “I’m the one who found him.” It’s her voice. She’s just outside, in the hall.

  “I understand that.”

  “Can you even tell me what’s wrong with him?”

  “I can’t disclose that to you. His medical records aren’t public information.”

  “I know. But… I just want to know that he’s okay.”

  “I’m sorry. If you know his family, you can talk to them.”

  “All he has is some distant aunt or something in San Francisco.”

  “I’m sorry, Ms. Lukas, but you’ve got to calm down, and you’ve got to leave. His wellbeing is our only concern.”

  “Hey, Alex. It’s Justin and I’ve got Mikey here. Can you say hi, Mikey? … Well he means to say hi. Listen, come back to us, all right? People here miss you. I get why you might have checked out. I know maybe this life doesn’t have much to offer you. You’ve gotta feel real alone a lot of the time. We’ll do a better job, all right? We’ll make sure you have people around. Just come back to us. Please.” There’s a note of desperation in his voice. “I’ve gotten a lot better with Mikey. Figured out that he likes bubbles.”

  “Bubble!”

  “And that… that’s the second time he’s ever said anything.”

  “Bubble!”

  “You want bubbles now? I can’t… O-kay, we’re gonna have a tantrum. We are going to go find some bubbles. Alex… hang in there, all right?”

  “Check it out, Alex!”

  “Dmitri, careful.” Dmitri’s mother sounds more amused than concerned.

  “Up on one wheel. Most people in my class can’t do that. Aw yeah.”

  “Listen, we’re here to keep him company, not knock his cot over with crazy moves. You heard what the doctors said. No stress.”

  “Talking is boring. Check out this chair, Alex.”

  “He insisted we bring it down.”

  “I talked to the coach for the Paralympic Wheelchair Rugby team. It was so epic. He gave me all kinds of pointers and someday, someday, I will try out for that team and I will get on it and we will medal.”

  “Yes, well, suffice it to say, Dmitri’s doing well.”

  “You gotta snap outta this, man. You’ve gotta see me play.”

  “Ye-es. That’s one reason, isn’t it?”

  “If you wake up, I will totally make it worth your while.”

  “I don’t know if he heard that, but I did and I’m holding you to it.”

  “Fine.”

  “All right.”

  Madison sits by my bed, her face lined and drawn from exhaustion. She doesn’t speak, only sits, and this time I know she isn’t real. I just wish she were.

  “You shouldn’t be here.” It’s the nurse’s voice, I think.

  “I tried staying away from him, okay? But it didn’t make him any better. He got worse.”

  “Without permission from the supervising physician, you’re not going to see him.”

  “And I just want to see the physician.”

  “If she doesn’t have time to see you, then I’m sorry.”

  “I think I could help him, maybe. If I could just see him and talk to him.”

  “There is a note in his file that you and your brother are not allowed in.”

  “Oh…”

  “So if you’d please move along? He’s in good hands here.”

  “Madison, I’m sorry,” comes Kailie’s voice. “There’s nothing we can do right now.”

  “If he’s awake for just one minute, I want to spend it with him.”

  “I know. Listen, stay calm, do not stress out. We’ll deal with this when it’s time. Right now, just leave him alone.”

  “It’s me again.” Kailie’s voice. “You keep staying all checked out and I’ll keep visiting. Kirsten’s here too.”

  “Hey, Alex.”

  “So what’s the deal? You promise me I can call anytime I’ve got questions about our new business, but you’re not taking calls. Seriously.”

  “Kail, careful. He’ll stay like that forever.”

  “Oh thanks.”

  “I’m just saying.”

  Laughter, with jagged edges like knives.

  “Alex.” Kirsten’s voice. “We’re holding our first fundraiser for a group home. We’ve got two care providers in our employ. This is happening.”

  “And Dad’s all proud of us now, like this was his idea.”

  “Just ignore him,” says Kirsten

  “I’m trying, all right? Listen, Alex, we’ve got a letter to read you. It’s from the Rawls. You know, Kevin’s parents? Ok
ay, so it says, ’Dear Alex, We heard from Wendy Liang about your condition and it occurred to us we never did write to you about Kevin. We hope you don’t feel responsible in any way for what happened. Our situation with Kevin was always precarious, and you did nothing but good things for us. We feel such endless gratitude for you.

  “Thank you for the year you gave him to be himself, for all the times you let him hit you and only smiled in return, for the evenings you gave us to go on dates and enjoy our marriage once more.

  “We hope someday you read this letter and know how much you mean to us. You gave us a miracle, and we will always be grateful for it. The way Kevin’s life ended just shows that very few people can do what you did, and we wish you all the best.’”

  Kailie pauses. “It’s signed Don and Victoria Rawls. They called a few times. I know they want to visit but Victoria’s starting to get Alzheimer’s. But so many people miss you, Alex. They want to know that you’re okay.”

  “And they sent us a huge check,” says Kirsten. “I guess it was Kevin’s life insurance or something. We’re on track to get a new group home in Pelican Bluffs now.”

  “Might need some help with the zoning. Eh, right? You might know someone who knows someone?”

  “What?” says Kirsten.

  “Nothing. Inside joke. We miss you, Alex.”

  Madison leans over the bed and looks right into my eyes. She’s a vision, with her creamy white skin and delicate pink lips. I remember how we fell for each other in high school, but I don’t understand it. Why would someone so desirable touch her fingers to my cheek and stroke my hair back from my face? How could that ever have been my reality? Why would she gaze at me as if she could gaze forever? I’ll never deserve this, but I just can’t let her go. She haunts even my delusions.

  I know if I wake up, she’ll disappear. For now, I just lay still and feel her phantom fingers on my skin.

  “Hey, buddy.” The masculine voice slices right into my heart. I jolt awake, my eyes opening to the sight of ceiling tiles above my hospital bed. I turn to look at a face I remember only from pictures. His hair is blond and buzzed short, his eyes a hazel green that looks almost brown in the dim light of my hospital room, and he wears that jacket that I wore every day from when I was six until I put it on Madison in high school.

  This is it. My final psychotic break. Farewell reality. I’ve been beating on the door to insanity and unreality for who knows how many days now, and finally, I’m in.

  He looks me over. “You know who I am?”

  I nod. “Dad,” I whisper.

  My father chuckles. “Never got to hear you say that. Never saw you take your first steps or hear your first words. Never got to take you to school or coach you in sports.”

  I shrug with shoulders stiff from disuse. “You know much about me?”

  “Everything, buddy. I know how many times you’ve been to juvie and how many of your friends’ bones you’ve broken in fights. I know how dismal your school performance was. I know about the time on your mission when you had your psychotic break and took off in the Tokyo subway. I know it all, and I’m proud. Because I also know the hand you were dealt. No dad, a mentally ill mom, a system that failed you, people who wanted to see you put away. You overcame it all, and you’re a good man, Alex. A great man. I’d count myself lucky to have a friend like you, let alone a son.” There’s no hint of a falsity in his tone. His gaze is earnest and sincere.

  Which is the last thing I expect from someone like him. As I understand it, fathers are the ones who discipline and get disappointed.

  “Yeah, you don’t have the highest opinion of yourself, do you?” he says.

  “I dunno.”

  “Well, I do. Listen to me, I know why you’re here, all right?”

  “Because I’m a headcase.”

  “That helps, but you’re hiding. You’ve buried yourself so deep in your psyche that you hope they never find you. The mental illness? You got that from your mom, but the real reason you’re here is because of something you inherited from me.”

  “What’s that?”

  He raises one eyebrow in a gesture I’ve seen a thousand times in the mirror, and pauses a moment. “How you love. The way you give yourself over completely, heart and soul. The way you care so much that the thought of feeling that vulnerable for the rest of your life is terrifying. I know how that goes, okay? I do. There was this girl once, beautiful, intelligent, and schizophrenic. I loved her with all my being, and I always will. Took me forever to get her to wear my ring, she was so sure I’d give up on her once I knew about her condition, and hers was a bad one, too. Not just mild hallucinations, but full blown psychosis that would last for weeks. What she didn’t understand was, it was worth it to endure all of that with her for just the minutes and hours I’d get to spend with the real person inside. I’m not sure she ever believed me. Now, that sound familiar?”

  I run my fingers through my hair. “Madison can do better.”

  “Can she? Listen, don’t ever be ashamed of how deep your feelings are. That’s a gift, and you’d be surprised how rare it can be. No one’s ever going to make that girl feel like she’s the center of the universe – and you won’t either if you don’t make a move and let her know that what she suspects about you is the truth. That you pushed her away out of love, and that you break down whenever you see her because you want her so bad, and that you don’t believe it’d be possible to have her. Alex, wake up and face your life.”

  The pain in my chest sharpens. “I don’t know if I can.” I shut my eyes. “Dad? Was she even here? Or am I dreaming her?”

  No reply. When I open my eyes, the room’s empty. I lift a hand and rub my forehead. That, I have to admit, was intense. I feel the beginnings of a headache.

  The room is silent though. No voices. No whisperings. The air doesn’t shimmer and there don’t seem to be any otherworldly beings drifting around. I’ve gone from delusional to grounded in the space of a second, which is weird. It’s also weird how lucid I felt during that delusion, and how the memory of it makes me feel at peace, and not all torn up inside, even though I saw the father I never knew.

  There’s a religious explanation for what just happened. I shut my eyes and think it over. The mind is a complex thing. It’s possible that my subconscious took what I wanted to see and what I wanted to hear and knit it all together in what looked like a spiritual visitation. Or, my mind might have had help. I should pray a prayer of gratitude in any case.

  Only, what am I thankful for? I’m back in reality, the last place I want to be. And it’s in this moment that I become certain, that visitation was no trick of the mind. Someone’s reminding me who’s in control. And He broke our agreement. I’d made myself clear: No visitations.

  According to LDS theology, the dead live in a spirit world that allows rare, brief contact with our world, usually at times of great need. Also, according to our beliefs, our family bonds aren’t just for the span of our lives. They last for eternity, and when we die, we’ll rejoin family members who’ve gone before.

  That’s what hooked me on Mormonism at first. Heaven to me isn’t a place with cherubs playing harps and streets paved with gold. It’s getting to be with the people who love me, a small group who are nearly all gone from this world.

  Nearly...

  I turn my head and my gaze falls on my cellphone, which lays, discarded, on the nightstand. I grasp it in my hand and notice it’s off. The battery probably ran out. Still, I press the power button just in case. It slowly powers up and flashes the “low battery” warning. Sometimes there’s just enough juice left, though, for one phone call. The empty battery icon continues to flash as I select Madison’s number and hit “Send.”

  One ring and I feel foolish.

  Two and I want to hang up.

  Three and I’m too invested not to see this through.

  “Hello?” Her voice is a croak.

  “Hey.”

  “Who is this?” She doesn’t know my numbe
r because I’ve never called her from this phone. I have hers from all the times she jotted it down in notes to me. “Alex?” she whispers.

  “Yeah.”

  “How-”

  The phone dies, its screen and LEDs going dark. I try to power it up again, but it’s dead as a doornail. I didn’t even get to say that I want to see her. I put the phone down again and lay back. Will she know that I want to see her? Now that I’ve used up my phone’s battery, I can’t get her number out of it to call her from another phone. Maybe someone will visit me today who’ll know how to reach her?

  I shut my eyes, and for the first time in a long time, fall into a restful, dreamless sleep.

  I wake when a nurse strides into the room, flips on the light and checks the IV that I now notice is in back of my left hand. When I turn my head, she jumps about a mile. “Sorry!” She takes a deep breath, her hand over her heart. “You’re awake?”

  “Looks like it.” My voice is gravelly.

  “You able to get up?”

  I nod and sit up too fast. The room sways and I wait for the head rush to clear, then slide down off the bed and stand. My muscles ache and cramp, but they work. The floor is cold and hard against my bare feet.

  “How do you feel?” the nurse asks.

  “Um, filthy. How long was I out?”

  “Three days. I’ll let the doctor know you’re awake.”

  I nod, sit down on my bed, and wait. Minutes later a doctor comes in and checks me over, and I answer all her questions about who I am and whether or not I know I’m in the hospital, then let her shine a light in my eyes and test my reflexes. I wait until she’s done with her ritual, before I say, “If Madison Lukas comes down today, can you let her in?”

  That earns me a pensive look. The doctor drapes her stethoscope around her neck and says, “You sure about that?”

  I nod and fight the urge to beg or get agitated. That, I know, will work against me. Given my life experience, I know what is and isn’t effective when negotiating with a psychiatrist, so I keep my voice calm. “Madison’s one of my closest friends. I’ll bet she found me and got me admitted here. I would really like to see, her; maybe I misheard things while I was out, but I thought I heard people telling her to leave.”