by P. G. Forte
“Damn right, I’m enjoying it! I deserve to. I waited a long time for this. You didn’t care what it was doing to me. You wouldn’t stop when I asked you to. Give me one reason why I shouldn’t enjoy it now?”
But she knew why. She knew better than anyone what it felt like when you couldn’t call your thoughts your own. She wavered for an instant, and then, reluctantly, she let go her desire for revenge.
Scout took a deep, slow breath and allowed the scent of lavender to ease its way into her mind, gradually willing the fierce hot anger that held her to relax its grasp. The storms around them settled slowly down. She felt Marsha’s breathing slow as well. Slow and deepen and ease.
A wave of remorse washed through her, but she couldn’t tell if it originated with her, or with Marsha.
I’m sorry,” someone thought.
“I know. Me too,” came the response.
The lavender fragrance was stronger now; stronger and heavier. Scout let herself focus on it and found herself drifting with the rising smoke, letting go of the anger and the sadness, releasing years of bitterness and hurt. Not completely, of course. Not yet. But enough. Enough for now.
Marsha took a deep, shuddering breath. “It’s all right, Lucy. We’re okay now,” she said, her voice still shaky. “And... I think we’re ready.”
“Jesus. Marsha – are you sure about this?” Lucy asked, incredulous.
For a brief moment, Marsha hesitated. Scout held her breath. And then, “Yeah, Luce, I’m sure. I don’t think we really have a choice. It’s now or never. Let’s do it.”
* * *
When they emerged from the cave this time, Scout was surprised to find that they stood not on the beach she had seen before, but in a deep forest glen. The ground beneath their feet was spongy with thick emerald moss. Trees, gnarled and ancient, extended in all directions around them, their branches forming a leafy green canopy high overhead. The light that filtered down through the boughs was muted, silvery, shifting with the soft breeze that stirred the leaves. Sara had joined them again. But this time, Scout didn’t think she was there to guide her, but merely to provide her with companionship.
“Do you know where you’re going?” Marsha asked, and Scout couldn’t tell if the words came from within her mind, or from the room outside.
“No. Don’t you?” she answered, feeling slightly puzzled by the question.
Marsha chuckled. “Hey, this is your subconscious. I’m just visiting.”
“Oh. Well, I think there’s a path... that way.” Scout gestured toward one part of the grove. Although there was nothing to mark it, she was certain a path wound its way through the trees just there. She felt an urgent need to follow it.
“Well, sure. There’s probably quite a few paths. We’re looking for something that will take us back to the afternoon Lisa disappeared. Think that’s the right one?”
“Uh... yeah. Yeah, I do.”
It didn’t matter if it was the path they were looking for or not. It sang to her. She had to follow it, had to find out where it led. She began moving forward, impatiently, drawn toward she knew not what. Conscious of a growing sense of anticipation... and wonder... and... and heat.
Something was happening. The path she had been following... where was it now? She could no longer see... anything, really. Her body was on fire, blazing with a need that was raw, raging, sexual. So much heat, such fierce, desperate passion, that reason was swamped by it. She could think of nothing else but getting closer to the source.
Her heart pounded, loud and insistent, as wave after wave of pure sensation rippled through her, and – Ohhh! God – Suddenly, heat and pleasure were everywhere at once.
She shuddered with the heat. She was hotter than she’d ever, ever been. At least, well, she couldn’t remember if she’d ever – but then she was having trouble thinking, what with the way the blood was thundering and burning through her veins. Her breath kept catching in her throat so that she had to release it in little whimpers and moans. So hard to breathe with all this heat, and – omigod – what was that?
But even as she thought it, another part of her mind supplied the answer: Nick. His hands, moving over her body, left little trails of flame in their wake, and his mouth... whatever he was doing, it felt so utterly, amazingly good. Ohhh, yes, do that again. Right there. Oh, please!
The pounding of her heart was so loud, though. Louder than it ever had before. Kind of distracting, actually. And, come to think of it, it was louder than a heart actually could beat... wasn’t it?
She fought against the confusion that surrounded her. But really, wasn’t it way louder? Loud enough to be the sound of someone’s fist knocking on the door?
Abruptly, all the lovely sensations stopped and the heat receded, and she felt Nick pull away from her with a muttered curse. Then he was off the couch and storming toward the door and, oh God, where could he possibly be going? And what was taking him so long to get back? It had been... several seconds already, surely. But at least she could see again, now that her eyes were open.
The room was dark, all the shades drawn. She could just make out the brown shag carpeting, the heavy dark, rustic furniture. Everything too dark and heavy. The coffee table. The bookcase. Not to mention the couch, which she could feel beneath her.
The couch was also dark brown, she remembered, smiling as the memories surfaced. Dark brown vinyl with rows of those stupid little thumbtack thingies, whose purpose she had never understood.
It was easier to breathe now, too. Not that she was sure she actually wanted to. If she were given a choice between feeling the way she had a moment ago, on the one hand, and breathing on the other? Well, after all, oxygen wasn’t even the most exciting element on the periodic table, now, was it? And she was ready to consign the entire contents of that, and any other table, straight to hell, if only he would please come back and touch her again.
Except something was clearly wrong, because he was putting his shirt back on now. And unless she’d missed something really important during the confusion of those last few minutes, when she thought her heart might have beaten itself right out of her chest, that was not a good thing.
“Nick?”
“Sorry, babe.” His face was grim and desperate, his voice even more so. And he couldn’t even look her in the eyes as he said, “I have to get back to work.”
“What? Not... not now?”
Was it her? Had she done something wrong? Had he found out her secret?
What had she missed? She had to have missed something, because he could not have meant – “You’re leaving? Now?”
He groaned. “Tell me about it.”
He sat back down on the couch. Not touching her anywhere, but looking... looking and looking at her with an expression of such pure, naked lust on his face that she could feel her blood begin to heat again just from thinking about being wanted like that. I want you, too.
“Oh, God, Jen,” he said, shuddering as he closed his eyes. “I am so sorry. Believe me, this is the last thing I want to do right now. But I have no choice. I really do have to go.”
Scout took a deep breath. It looked as if she’d have to settle for oxygen, after all, damn it. And blew it out again, before she could answer. “Okay. I guess... I understand.”
“Next time, babe. I promise.”
“Soon?”
“Yeah. Oh God, yeah. Abso-fuckin-lutely,” he said with a smile. And then he was gone. Without even one last kiss.
“Oh, wow. I can see what you meant, the other night. But... oh, my God, Scout. The next time... it really wasn’t soon at all. Was it?”
“No. It wasn’t,” Scout mumbled, inconsolable. And then it hit her. “Marsha? What the hell?” The room spun crazily as she sat up and looked around. But there was nothing to see. Because it was all in her head, wasn’t it? Or somewhere? Where?
“Whoa... calm down. Sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude or anything. I’m just tagging along, remember? This is your trip.”
“Shit. I
can’t believe this crap. I knew I was gonna hate this. God damn it. What now?”
“Well... are you sure this is the right day?”
“Oh, yeah. Yeah, I’m sure, all right. I remember as if it were... umm... right now, actually.” Confusion rippled through her again.
Where was she? When was she?
“Yep. The ever-present subconscious. Gotta love it. Okay. So, let’s see where you can go from here.”
Scout tried to leave. She really did. But knowing she would never be back, knowing how much she’d lost when Nick had walked out that door, she just couldn’t go. She wandered through the dark rooms like a ghost. Eerily aware of the dog trailing along behind her – right there with her, and yet not there at all.
She looked around again. Drank in the sight of all that thick brown carpeting, and she couldn’t help but smile. It was so ugly, and yet, oh God, what wouldn’t she give if she could only stay right here and look at it forever?
The same went for the wicker shelves in the bathroom, packed with so many intimate reminders of Nick, and of a time long gone. The carefully arranged spices in the kitchen cabinets tugged at her heartstrings. As did the chunky gray and blue earthenware coffee mugs. The brown velour bedspread…
And those white satin sheets on his bed. The ones that she’d never, not even once, gotten the chance to lie between.
“Scout? I think you need to go now.”
“I can’t, Marsha. You don’t know.”
“Scout, listen to me. I understand what you’re going through, but this is important. I really think—”
“No!” The pain of having lost him then, and having lost him again – was it only yesterday? – was too much for her. Pain slashed through her heart and mind as her world tore apart.
She felt the now familiar rush of vertigo as the vast swirling cloud of darkness crashed into her, through her, and over her again. And only the sensation of not being completely isolated in the icy blackness, of not having been thrust alone into the maelstrom of pain and regret and loneliness that flooded her consciousness... only that could have saved her from total annihilation.
Still, her mind reeled in anguish, so hopelessly cold and empty did she feel.
“It’s okay, Scout.” Marsha’s voice wrapped itself around her mind. “It’s okay. You’re not alone.”
Not alone. She heard the words and tried hard to hold on to them. But oh, that’s not how it felt. From some other corner of her mind, long denied – suppressed but never quite extinguished – an unquenchable flood of loss was pouring itself over her. And it chanted, alone, alone, alone, with far greater clarity.
Scout felt herself losing the battle. In a moment, she knew it, she would disappear forever, sunk beneath the weight of all that horrible blackness. She would be swallowed up by the inky cold emptiness that surrounded her and filled her, and had festered within her for years.
And then, her fingers closed on something. Something warm and furry and alive. She felt the unmistakable touch of a dog’s tongue on her face. And warmth washed through her once again.
Scout clung to her dog with all the strength she could find, sighing with relief as the roiling storm at last began to recede. She felt herself relax, an almost infinitesimal degree, just enough to regain control. And she knew it was triggered by the love and concern she could sense emanating in waves from Marsha, and from Sara, as well.
“It’ll be okay,” she heard Marsha say. “I understand how you feel. I know it seems like it’s forever, but it’s not. Time is an illusion. This will pass. It already has passed.”
And somehow Scout knew it, too. She would survive. It would hurt like hell for a long, long time. Maybe forever. But she would live. Or at least... well, maybe that wasn’t quite the right word either.
“Never mind the semantics. Let’s get out of here. I know it’s hard, but try and think. Where did you go next?”
Where had she gone? She tried, but thinking was too painful. She forced herself to take every last shred of the emotions she could feel and lock them all away in some dark, dark recess in the back of her mind. In a place where she could – she hoped – retrieve them again when this was all behind her.
Immediately, she felt clearer, stronger, calmer. Okay, let’s see, now... Where did I go?
I was with you. She could remember having told Nick that, just recently, it seemed.
To which he’d replied, right. And then you were with Glenn.
But that hadn’t been right... had it?
You knew I wasn’t. The afternoon of the murder, the day that Lisa ran away? You knew I wasn’t with Glenn.
But you did see him. Later that day. Nick had been pretty insistent about it.
But had she been with Glenn? She couldn’t remember anymore. What had she done that afternoon? Where had she gone, if she hadn’t gone home like she’d told him she had?
She floated, for a moment in a haze of indecision. Everything around her grew foggy and dim. Shapes, vague and amorphous, seemed to hover on the edge of her ability to sense them. Colors and scents with no names drifted like ghosts around her. It seemed as if her mind was reaching out, reaching through the swirling mist, searching for something. Or someone...
Slowly, the mist resolved itself. Her vision cleared once again. Had she been here? Had she cut across this field before? It seemed possible; it all seemed vaguely familiar. Had there been this chill in the air? And had she felt it knife right through the thin t-shirt she wore over her running shorts?
The t-shirt was damp with sweat; that was why it couldn’t keep her warm Sweat that had come from running all the way here.
Why had she been running?
It was mid-May, but still as cool as March, and she had run here.
Why running?
But that was a ridiculous question to ask. Of course she had run here. She was always running, wasn’t she? She had to keep in shape. Had to train for... wait... what was she in training for, again? She couldn’t remember.
She didn’t look up at the buildings as she hurried over the grass, but she knew where she was. She went to school here, didn’t she? But no, that had been someone else.
Hurry past the buildings. Not supposed to be here. Quick, before someone looking out a window could see. Get out of sight, fast. Stupid coming here now. But this is where she wanted to meet.
In the woods. By the pond.
And wasn’t it just like Lisa to think of something lame like that?
The sun glowed low in the sky. It was getting late. Later. Better hurry. Lisa would be waiting. And she hated to be kept waiting. Really, she could be such a bitch sometimes. She would be waiting in the woods. And there was something they needed to talk about. Something important, she’d said. Something very important.
What was so important that it couldn’t have waited for another time?
But that was Lisa for you. Everything that had to do with her was always so important. Ticked off about Scout again, most likely. Although how she could’ve found out about that – it wasn’t like Scout would have told her. Would she?
Goddamn. I sure don’t need this shit. The wind’s picked up. Getting really cold now. Running late. Don’t know what this is about, but it sure as hell had better be important. So cold. Getting tired, now. They had to do this quick. Not that anything was ever quick with Lisa.
Lisa. Lisa. Lisa.
The name echoed through Scout’s mind, but it was getting hard to think again. Something was wrong. Very wrong. But there were too many voices in her head; she couldn’t sort through them all. Couldn’t sort anything out. She heard Marsha saying something, but she couldn’t wait to listen. She couldn’t stay and talk to her. She had to get to Lisa.
She had to get to Lisa, now!
She found herself rushing through space, speeding through the swirling cloud of mist, faster than thought, and then opening her eyes again. Deep in the woods this time. By the pond in the woods. Feeling as angry as she’d ever been. Angry and hurt and damned if that s
on-of-a-bitch wasn’t late again. Always keeping her waiting. Always.
Wishing Lucy hadn’t been right about the baby, but knowing all the same that she was. She couldn’t keep the baby just to spite Scout and Glenn, because then... well, then she’d have to keep the baby, wouldn’t she? And that – no, Lucy was right. She sure couldn’t see herself doing that.
Still, it’s not like the decision not to keep the baby was making her feel any better. That sucked, too. It hurt, damn it. And she didn’t see why she had to be the only one hurting. That just wasn’t fair.
Which was why she was doing this. This would be good. This would help... a little. Knowing that she wasn’t the only one who was hurting. Not the only one who was losing something that they’d really, really wanted.
That ought to make her feel a whole lot better. Wouldn’t it? Why should she be the only one to suffer, after all?
And it wasn’t as though Scout didn’t have it coming to her, either. Not after everything she’d done. But maybe, if she really cared about the guy...
The bees were back, Scout thought. She was vaguely confused by that. They seemed madder than ever, and big as... big as mice, from the feel and the sound of them. The thrumming drone of them. Filling her head with noise and pain and making it impossible to see or hear or understand anything that was happening.
Too many people in her head. Entirely too many people, damn it. And all of them talking at once. She couldn’t concentrate. All their thoughts and emotions flying at her, thick and fast. Emotions. That was the problem. Too many emotions, and not all of them hers. Too many voices, making too much noise. She couldn’t concentrate.
And she had to concentrate, because it this was important.
Lisa.
She had to get back to Lisa. Had to tell her. Warn her. Save her. Because she was waiting in the woods, by the pond, where they’d arranged to meet and—
Any minute now, it would happen.
How did she know that? Whose memories were these? Whose mind was she reading now?
It didn’t matter. It wasn’t important. What mattered was that she knew what was going to happen next. She knew about the fight they would have. Were having. Had already had. Both so angry, both so young. They were going to fight about the baby, and then –
