Chasing Daylight

by Carey Heywood

  “There’s a light switch on the right.”

  I move in front of him, reaching for the switch and flip it on. The dark doorway is now full of light and I see stairs leading down below the building.

  “You first,” he orders.

  I stare up at him. “There is no way I’m going down there.”

  He tilts his head heavenward before looking back down at me.

  “I live down there. I need you to turn on the light, that’s all.”

  The look in his eyes makes me decide to trust him. I nod, turning toward the stairs and make my way down them.

  “The switch is on the right,” he says.

  He’s closer than I expect so I jump. I hurriedly run my hand over the wall until I find the switch. Light fills the room and Mitch moves past me to set Zeus on what I assume is Mitch’s bed.

  Glancing around the room I can see (and smell) the dog bed where Zeus must have been when he first became sick. I move to his sink and open the cabinet beneath it, looking for trash bags.

  “What are you doing?” Mitch asks.

  I turn a bag inside out and use it to pull the bed into it.

  “I don’t know if you’re going to try to wash this or not; but bagging it will help with the smell, if you get it out of here for now,” I explain.

  He nods, crossing the room to take the bag from me.

  “Come on.”

  We leave Zeus and I follow him back up the stairs. There was something claustrophobic about being down there. He plucks the keys I did not realize I was still holding from my hand and locks the door behind us. Without a word, he walks back toward his truck, passing it to toss the trash bag into a dumpster.

  The passenger door is unlocked, so I climb in and wait for him. He doesn’t speak as he drives me home. Not one word.

  He surprises me by getting out after he parks and walking me to the main door. I look up at him, my mouth opening to say goodbye when he reaches out and grips the back of my neck. His fingers are firm as he pulls my body toward him. Briefly, I assume he’s going to kiss me and, in truth, he does; but it’s my forehead and not my lips his mouth touches.

  His lips stay there for one endless heartbeat, and then they’re gone, him along with them. I stare after him as I watch him walk back to his truck. The slam of his door snaps me back into reality and I let myself in, locking the door behind me. I look through the window and see the taillights of his truck as he pulls away.

  What the hell just happened?

  Was she wearing anything underneath that robe? Christ, it’s been years since a woman affected me the way she did. The last person I expected to come to that door was her, with her light brown hair piled high on top of her head, long legs, kissable lips, and pale green eyes. Without a doubt that woman is an absolute stunner. She said her name is McKenzie, but her friend called her Z and Kenzie.

  She’s the only thing I think of as I drive back to my place. It was hard leaving her. Just thinking about her is crazy when I should be focused on getting back to Zeus. That vet, Alec, gave me his cell and told me to call him if Zeus gets sick again overnight. He should be my concern, not some woman I just met.

  Once I’m back inside my place, I check on Zeus. The bag of medicine the vet gave me was still in my truck so I brought it in with me. After I make sure he’s doing okay, I read the instructions on the pill bottle to see when I need to give him his next dose. I set the bottle on my kitchen counter before crossing my room to slump into my chair. How the fuck did Zeus get into rat poison?

  I remove my leg and wheel over to the bed. Resting one hand on his back, I’m soothed by the feel of the rise and fall of his chest, now his wheezing has stopped. I drag my other hand over my face as I try to replay the day. We use a pest service monthly to deal with any rodent or other pest issues that crop up. They come out once a month and spray around each building.

  It’s been at least a couple of weeks since the last time they were out. Could they have left some chemicals somewhere that Zeus got into? That doesn’t seem likely. He was sitting with April while I was mowing. Tomorrow I can ask her if she saw him eat anything. Otherwise, he was with me all day.

  My bed is big enough to fit both of us comfortably. I lock the wheels of my chair and ease myself onto my bed, careful not to disturb Zeus. My boy has had a rough night. He scared the shit out of me. I have no idea what I’d do without him. Even though I retrace our steps repeatedly, I’m no closer to an answer when sleep claims me.

  When I wake, I glance at my alarm clock. I managed to sleep a couple of hours. That might be a record and shows how exhausted I was. I check Zeus, gently petting him. He turned over at some point and is now facing me. He lifts his furry head and his tongue comes out to lick my forearm.

  “Good boy.”

  Alec told me some things to watch out for and Zeus thankfully hasn’t shown signs of any of them. Now that I’m not worried about Zeus, my mind drifts to McKenzie and all of the questions she conjures. Why was she sleeping there? If she isn’t a vet, what was she doing there? When can I see her again?

  Since all I have are questions and no answers, I force myself to focus on something else. Shifting my body to my chair, I tug on my silicone liner and put my prosthetic back on. Luckily, most of the mess Zeus made when he got sick was on the dog bed. Most, unfortunately, is not all. Vomit is not a scent I enjoy so I crack a window and clean up whatever mess is left. Thirty minutes and a third of a roll of paper towels later, my place is clean again.

  Since I’m already cleaning, I wash Zeus’ food and water dish. Sadly, this is not something I do frequently. Holding his water dish in my hand reminds me of the water dish I keep for him by the rec center. Could someone have dumped something in there? I leave his bowls to dry on a rack next to my sink and go to grab that dish. Looks like I’ll be keeping a bottle of water with me at all times from this point forward until I can figure out how he got into it.

  I rest one hand against the brick side of D as I bend down to grab the bowl. When I straighten, I glance around, my eyes coming to rest on the balcony of 12. Was Frank Gayton really watching the girls at the pool yesterday, or my dog? If that motherfucker tried to hurt my dog, I’ll tear his ass apart. He’s lucky the lights are all off at his place. That’s the only thing keeping me from questioning him.

  Back inside my place, I wash Zeus’ outside bowl and put it to dry with the rest. Out of things to do, I sink back into my chair so I can take off my prosthetic and try to get another hour or so of sleep. My sleep schedule has been fucked ever since I lost my limb. Best I can do is nap frequently. Something inside me won’t let me go more than two hours without waking.

  Is it normal? No. That doesn’t mean I can’t live like this. After I shift myself back onto my bed, my mind drifts back to McKenzie. I try and fail to picture the exact shade of her eyes. From there, I wonder what she thought of me, of my place. The way her mouth opened when she looked up at me outside her door. Did she see my chair? And, more importantly, when can I see her again?

  Given the direction of my thoughts, it takes me longer than normal to fall back to sleep. Unfortunately, it does nothing to help me stay asleep.

  When my eyes hit my alarm again, only an hour and half has passed. Figuring that’s the best I’ll do for the night, I get up for good this time. It’s still early; the barest hint of dawn is lighting the morning sky by the time I’m showered and dressed for the day.

  I carry Zeus outside so he can do his business. From what Alec said, it could take a while for him to be himself again. I’m not taking any chances. Before last night, I was comfortable letting him hang out by the storage shed if I was mowing or up on a ladder. Those days are gone. If I am doing something that will have me distracted, he’s going to be down here where I know he’ll be safe.

  When we get back downstairs, I feed him and sneak his medication into his food, making sure he washes it all down with some water. It’s too early to mow the patch around the pool so I log onto my computer to see if Diane
emailed me any work orders after I saw her yesterday. Something always needs fixing. I’ve never been the type to let moss grow under my feet, so right now I’m caught up on any major issues.

  Once Zeus is settled, I head over to the storage shed to pick up some paint and supplies. Painting is quiet so I don’t have to worry about disturbing any of the tenants while I do the Lowdon’s old unit. It’s strange being in a vacant apartment without Zeus by my side. The silence is eerie; the way even small sounds echo and bounce off the walls.

  I prefer silence to noise. I’ve worked with guys in the past who’ve brought portable stereos to jobs and blasted music while they worked. As quiet as Zeus is, unless he’s hot and making a mess slurping water from a dish, the silence without him unnerves me. With each minute that passes, more of Gramercy Square’s residents begin their day. I jump at each slam of a car door.

  My heart rate accelerates at the crash of something getting thrown into a dumpster. I’ve only managed to paint half of one room before I flee and retreat into my cave. Zeus is awake but still on my bed where I left him after he ate. He somehow knows I’m tweaked the moment my foot hits the bottom step, giving a gentle woof in my direction.

  I move right to him, sinking into my chair next to the bed, folding over him and pushing my fingers through his soft fur. He lifts, and then sets his nose on my shoulder. Slowly, the thunderstorm in my chest dissipates and the pressure that was crushing me lifts. Each breath I take allows more air into my lungs than the one before it.

  The whole experience is so exhausting, I barely manage to slip off my shoe and leg before I crawl onto my bed and pass out.

  As usual, I don’t sleep long. Zeus whines as I start to get up. It’s been months since I’ve had a panic attack. Given the adrenaline that was pumping through me last night, I should have expected this to happen. I was lulled into some false sense that I was past all that shit. Five years later, I still can’t sleep, and I’m a walking basket case without my dog.

  I reach for Zeus, scratching behind his ear. I don’t know which one of us I’m trying to convince with my false bravado. In the grand scheme of things, that panic attack was on the mild side in comparison to some of the doozies I’ve had, so there’s that. I had enough presence of mind to get my ass to Zeus since he wasn’t with me. Thank fuck; otherwise, there’s a decent chance I could be laid out on the floor of 4 thinking I was having a heart attack.

  Or even worse, I could have collapsed somewhere between here and there and had a resident call 911 again. Thank fuck for small miracles.

  Seems like accomplishing anything today will be a bust. I’m too drained to finish painting 4 or mow around the pool. If I had a job anywhere else, I’d probably be fired for shit like this. Aunt Cathy has two requirements for me to keep this job, get shit done and let her hear my voice once a month.

  As long as I do those two things, I get free rent and a decent salary. At times, I’ve seen this job as a cage, a trap to keep me from taking off when I wanted to. I now see it for what it truly is, a sanctuary that somehow keeps me going. It’s a luxury most of the guys in my condition don’t have.

  The freedom to take a mental health day when I need one without any pressure reduces my stress. Having made the decision to scrap today further relaxes me. In hindsight, pushing myself to treat today as any other day wasn’t too swift on my part.

  Zeus shifts on the bed as I stretch onto my back next to him. His nose rests on my stomach as my hand drifts over and down his back. We stay like that for most of the day. The exceptions to this are the few times I carry him outside to go, and when I closed the windows to switch on the air conditioning. I have a TV but rarely watch it. The news is depressing, and the movies and shows I enjoyed watching in the past no longer help.

  To pass the time, I play my acoustic guitar. The words to “Brown Eyed Girl” play along in my mind as I picture a brown haired girl with pale green eyes.

  Early this morning, I had fallen asleep with this irrational hope of seeing her again. Today was a reminder that there’s a reason why I’m better off as I am, alone. What beautiful woman in her right mind would want anything to do with a broken man? I unfortunately, already know the answer to that question.

  Still, I wonder what she’s doing right now.

  I’ll never forget seeing her through that door. At first, she didn’t seem real. She could be a figment of my imagination. An angel I created in my mind. The only way I’m certain she’s real is her robe kept her covered the whole time. If she had been a fantasy under my control, she would have lost it somewhere along the way.

  My phone buzzes, distracting me from my theories on McKenzie. It’s another text, most likely from Diane. I ignore them, pulling my phone out only to turn it off altogether. If it’s important enough, Diane will knock. Otherwise, it can all wait.

  I set my guitar next to my bed and attempt to relax. I shift and switch sides over and over, to the point that I finally annoy Zeus. He lifts his head and whines at me. His only discomfort currently is me. Not even an hour ago, I gave him his second daily dose of medication and he’s been out.

  It finally hits me that I’m stir crazy, a first for me after an attack. Normally, I’m lethargic for at least twenty-four hours afterward. I was earlier; but now, I can’t sit still. It’s still early enough to mow; but given the subtle sounds of pool play coming through the windows, I would have an audience. I could try to finish painting; but because that’s where I was when it hit me, I’m not in any hurry to go back today.

  I could go see Mc . . . er, go for a drive.

  I change out of my work pants and shirt and into an old pair of blue jeans and clean shirt. Zeus offers no argument when I carry him out to my truck. He doesn’t seem surprised at all.

  Two buildings up from the Critter Haven and Spa, there’s a pizza place with plastic tables out front. There’s a grassy patch where the sidewalk curves around back behind the building next to one. Since there’s plenty of shade, I figure Zeus can hang out next to me while I have a slice.

  A high school kid comes out to take my order and brings out a bowl and a fresh bottle of water for Zeus while my pizza is baking.

  In the waning light of day, I watch her building. When I drove up, I hadn’t noticed any cars parked close to it. That doesn’t mean there isn’t parking in the back. The building itself is dark on both the first and second floors, and the sign that had beckoned me last night is off.

  The building between the pizza place and hers is a mattress outlet, and already closed for the day. The next set of businesses is a strip with a grocery store at the next traffic light. Across the street is a used car dealership. Last night, she had clearly been sleeping there; was that where she lived?

  No one else had come down with her. That couldn’t be safe.

  “Well?” Rachel pushed.

  The kennels had been delivered earlier and we are opening and assembling them.

  “Then he drove to his place so I could help him get Zeus inside.”

  Her eyes widen and she sets her screwdriver down to lean over the top of the crate she’s working on.

  “What was his place like?”

  Sad, I don’t say it, but it’s the first thing that comes to mind.

  “Sparse,” I manage.

  She groans, her eyes rolling upward before moving back to focus on me, “I need more than that.”

  “Fine,” I snap¸ crossing my arms over my chest. “It’s pretty much an unfinished basement. The walls are cinder blocks and it’s all one room except for a walled off spot in one corner that I think is his bathroom.”

  I stand, needing more room to describe his space; and since I talk with my hands, I needed a lot of it.

  “There are maybe six kitchen cabinets and a fridge on one wall, but I don’t remember seeing a stove. He has no curtains but the windows are long and super skinny so I doubt they let in much light. The floor is concrete and he doesn’t have any rugs that I saw anyway.”

  Her nose scrunches as sh
e looks up at me, “That doesn’t sound good at all.”

  “It wasn’t,” I agree. “Once they’re all set up, I’m pretty sure our kennels will look nicer.”

  “That blows,” Rachel pouts.

  “Why do you say that?” I ask, sitting back down.

  She shrugs, “I thought you guys could be cute together.”

  My mouth drops open; and it takes me a couple of beats to compose myself enough to ask, “Are you crazy?”

  She ignores me with a smirk and gets back to work.

  “I’m here for a fresh start, remember?” I don’t expect an answer to my question, so I keep right on going. “I’m taking a break from guys, particularly the fixer upper variety while I get my shit together.”

  Her mouth opens to say something, but I cut her off with a slash of my hand. “No, seriously, Rachel. I know you hit the jackpot guy wise with Alec, which clearly has made you forget that the vast majority of single guys are douchebag jerk faces who lie or cheat or steal or sometimes, if you’re really lucky, do all three with a super awesome side dish of smacking you around.”

  At this, she pulls her lips between her teeth and nods, unable to disguise the fact her eyes are wet.

  Grumbling, I plop down next to her and hug her to me.

  “I love you.”

  “I love you too, Z,” she whispers, her voice thick.

  “Don’t make me cry,” I reply, more for my own stubborn benefit than hers, ignoring the wetness on my cheeks.

  The very fact I am attracted to the terrifyingly beautiful man that is Mitch is a strike against him. I have shit taste in men and let my attraction to them block out any red flags my brain recognizes in their behavior.

  This goes all the way back to middle school and my first boyfriend, Sean Davis. He was a good kisser and told me I was the prettiest girl he had ever seen. This is why I continued to kiss him and didn’t believe the rumors that Gina Torres let him touch her boobs at Mike Robertson’s birthday party.