Glyph

by Max Ellendale

  Caden smirked as if he appreciated my humor. God he was enormous… Mal looked over at me when I spoke. His expression was serious though his eyes were hinted with sorrow. I pulled my arms tighter around myself and rolled my shoulders. I’d gotten used to being looked at like that, but it didn’t mean I had to like it. I watched Xany because her ridiculous bouncing was easier to tolerate.

  “It’s real!” she burst forth. “Now you don’t have to be afraid anymore! And you’re one of us!” She announced with pride as if I had just popped out of my mother’s womb.

  Caden leaned forward, moving more swiftly then I would have expected someone of his girth to do. It was a gesture that was clearly meant to silence Xany, because it did. Mal looked like he was going to leap over the coffee table and strangle her. She glanced between the two men and batted her eyelashes.

  “I can’t help it!” She huffed. I watched the theatrics play out in front of me as the apprehension rose in my belly, and then Caden finally spoke.

  “You’re many things, if not precious, Xany.” He looked at me with a steady gaze that seemed like it could penetrate my soul. I dropped my gaze immediately.

  “Shawnee.” He rested his hands on his knees. I have never met anyone as still as Caden; he barely seemed to breathe. My worry turned to fear, and my tongue began to tingle as the bubble in my stomach rose to my chest.

  “What?” My voice sounded timid, betraying me. I struggled to lift my gaze, to meet his once again, but it remained firmly riveted on the floor.

  “Do you have dreams?”

  “Everyone dreams,” I shot back.

  “True, but I think you know what I’m asking.” He leaned back again, returning to his formerly relaxed position.

  “Yes. Fine. I have dreams.” I clenched my teeth. I wished someone would turn off the damn drumming in my ears.

  “Any monsters make guest appearances over the past few years?” He posed the question almost nonchalantly. Hello, Shawnee. How’s the weather? And the monsters? What are they up to? I shook my head.

  “Fuck you.” My pulse continued to wreak havoc in my ears. My legs twitched as my body prepared its favorite defense. Mal was on the edge of his seat, eyeing Caden while Xany’s nerves seemed to be keeping her quiet. Caden, however, was calm and unmoving as if every word he spoke was deliberately articulated.

  “I know you’re scared, Shawnee.” He paused. “Though…I think you know more than you have let on…” He trailed off and glanced to Mal.

  They must have shared some sort of silent communication because Mal nodded to him. I clutched the edge of my shirt, my breathing catching up to my heart rate. The room looked hazy. I blinked a few times to try and focus. Caden said something else but it sounded as if he was talking to me underwater.

  My body shot into action. I jumped up and ran for the door, bolting down the hallway and past my apartment. Down the stairs and out of the building. Running was the only time my body never betrayed me. I ran and I kept running, down one street and up another. By the time I stopped, I found myself outside the hospital. I knew they hadn’t followed me, but that didn’t soothe my panic. I didn’t want to deal with this. I did not want to acknowledge what Caden wanted me to face. It’s my life.

  Crumble. Crumble.

  I took the back entrance to my empty office, avoiding as many of the night staff as possible and crawled under the desk. Hugging my knees to my chest, shaking with dread, my consciousness slipped away…

  Chapter Five

  “E-he-na, Dodi. There’s no need to hide.” I hear my mother say. Her strong, safe hands pluck me from my hiding space. “Waya means you no harm, he wishes to play. He is young like you, my sweet.”

  I reach my hand out and see my fingers slide into a tuft of brown and black fur. I look up at my mother, and she smiles. “Baby waya,” I say.

  She nods and kisses my forehead. “Baby wolf, yes.”

  The little wolf cub looks to me with his sweet hazel eyes and licks my hand. I giggle in delight and move from my mother’s lap to sit in the grass with the wolf cub. It nibbles my fingers, and I laugh harder before standing and shouting, “Catch me!” I run and the little wolf pup chases after me, finding me difficult to catch.

  My mother’s voice echoes from somewhere inside me. “She is my Runs-Like-Wolf.”

  “Doctor T?” A familiar voice interrupted my dream. “Hey, Doc, “ Kurt’s voice cleared me from my slumber. I sat up quickly, forgetting where I was, and slammed my head into the desk. Little flashes of light entered my field of vision.

  “Ow…”

  “Not as painful as it’s going to be after sleeping on the floor all night. What are you doing here?” He didn’t help me up. Like many of my coworkers, he knew better. They knew never to touch me. I didn’t like to be touched.

  “I forgot something and must have fallen asleep,” I lied, standing up to dust off my jeans.

  “Oh…okay then.” His tone suggested he didn’t quite believe me.

  “Did you need something?”

  “Oh, um no, I’m okay.” He started edging toward the door. I watched his retreat, puzzled by his odd behavior, but didn’t force the issue.

  “I’ll see you later then, Kurt.” He left, and I sat down in a chair.

  I knew it was more than a dream that Kurt had just woke me up from. It was a memory, though it was easier to tell myself otherwise. I stretched to crack my back, and as soon as the haze of the uncomfortable sleep began to lift, my thoughts drifted to the events of last night and my meeting with Caden and Mal.

  There was nothing about Caden that stuck out to me other than the fact that he was super huge and scary. Mal, on the other hand, kept appearing in my thoughts. The way his eyes never seemed to leave me, and who could forget the way his shirt seemed to melt into his body? I never really noticed those things about people I’d just met, but for some reason, Mal seemed to stand out to me. I shook my head with clenched teeth and grabbed my lab coat. There will be no thinking, only working.

  I worked for three days straight. Any time my thoughts drifted anywhere near Xany, Caden, or Mal, I would distract myself with another task. The assignment Doctor Reynolds gave me was finished yesterday. He asked me to “prevent the reaction from happening,” and so I did.

  I think the reason he failed in doing this himself was the way he went about it. He kept trying to stop the reaction after it already began. I prevented it by creating a vaccine. Not the lifelong kind like polio or hepatitis—it wore off after a while—but it still worked. Eventually he and I would work on stabilizing the compound so that it was longer acting. The funniest thing about it was that the final product turned this interestingly bright orange color. Strange.

  So where are those riches Dr. Reynolds promised? I rolled my eyes at the thought.

  After I completed Dr. Reynolds’s task, I spent the last portion of my three-day work streak in the emergency room. Dr. Snyder was attending to a man who had been stabbed by his wife during a domestic dispute. The handle of the knife was protruding from the top of his thigh while the man was uttering curses at the ER staff as they stabilized his injury and removed the knife. Two police officers stood beside him, taking his statement. I stood near the nurses’ station watching the scene.

  “Another failed Bobbit attempt,” one of the nurses said to me in passing.

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “She caught him in bed with her aunt.”

  I shook my head.

  “At least he kept it in the family,” another nurse said as she dropped a chart on the counter. Both women laughed. I was about to lecture them on their lack of compassion when I was interrupted by the sudden sound of sirens pulling up to the entrance. The EMTs rushed in with a patient and began rattling off vitals, saying something about loss of blood, which immediately drew my attention.

  “We found her in the alley by the bar,” one of the men said.

  “What happened?” Doctor Snyder chased the rolling gurney into the exam room. Natur
ally, I followed the rush of ER staff into the room. Dr. Snyder was used to my random appearances.

  “Unexplained trauma to the neck. We heard screams and there was a man holding her down when we arrived at the scene. He must’ve stabbed her with something,” the EMT explained.

  I butted my way in to examine the unconscious woman. Her neck was ravaged, and blood was spurting from a nicked artery. Snyder slid the gauze down her neck to apply pressure to the wound. I noticed twin puncture marks above the torn out portion like whatever bit her had missed the first time.

  “This is the third one this week.” Snyder worked to stabilize the woman.

  “She’s lost too much blood,” one of the nurses said. As if on cue, the monitor flat-lined.

  “Time of death?” My eyes lingered on the devastated flesh when Snyder removed his hands.

  “1:07 a.m.,” he said and pulled the sheet over the woman’s face.

  ***

  Thoroughly exhausted, I finally went home. I entered my apartment as quietly as possible to avoid any interaction with Xany. I knew the only way I was going to be able to fall asleep after my irregular encounter in the ER was downing a few beers and passing out in front of the television while watching Golden Girls reruns. I took a twelve pack of beer from the fridge and parked myself on the sofa. I chugged the first four to expedite my numbness, and the tingle of satisfaction spread throughout my body. While Blanche, Dorothy, Sophia, and Rose took a trip to Saint Olaf, I downed another three. With the next episode, Dorothy was telling bad “Yo Mama” jokes as I drank two more.

  A knock on the door interrupted my binge. At first I thought somebody was knocking on the window so I answered that. While I was looking out the window, another knock sounded. I spun around a little too quickly, stumbled, and clocked my head on a shelf, sending several books crashing to the floor. I rubbed my head and answered the door.

  “I knew you’d be he—Shawnee, you look awful.” Xany invited herself inside. Her voice was even more irritating than usual.

  “What do you want?” I slurred.

  “Are you…drunk?” Xany waved a hand in front of her nose when I breathed near her.

  “No. Go away.”

  She ignored me, frowning when she saw the beer cans scattered around my living room and the unopened ones on the sofa. “You are drunk.”

  “S’none of your business.” I slammed the door, stomping, or stumbling, my way over to her. Xany’s figure spun around my field of vision along with the rest of the room.

  “It is my business.” She picked up one of the beer cans. “Do you really think this is helping you?”

  “What do you want from me?” I stumbled and caught myself on the sofa. Stupid sofa, doesn’t it know it isn’t supposed to be in my way when I’m walking? I kicked it.

  “Easy there. I came to tell you that Caden still wants to talk to you but not when you’re like this. We need to get you sober.”

  “I’m fine.” I grabbed another beer, needing the bravado it gave me. As I popped the top, Xany snatched it from my hands, spilling it on me and the floor.

  “Enough, Shawnee. Why are you doing this to yourself?” She went to the bathroom to pour the beer down the sink.

  I stormed after her. “Give me that, you nosy, big-breasted bitch!” I grabbed at Xany’s arm, causing more beer to spill.

  “Quit being rude.” She shoved me and emptied the can down the sink. I stumbled backward and fell on my ass, grabbing at Xany in a feeble attempt to pull her down with me.

  “Fuck you!”

  “Nothing can be so bad that you have to drown yourself in this.” She fought against me, turning on the faucet to fill the tub.

  “You don’t know shit about me,” I yelled at her.

  “I might if you’d stop being so rude,” she shot back, grabbing me by my shirt and dragging me toward the tub.

  I struggled against her, muttering something about her being a jerk when she tossed me into the water. I gasped and splashed, trying to surface above the glacier that Xany let loose over my skin. My clothes weighed me down, I was drowning, but my rage toward Xany was all-consuming. “You bitch! I hate you!”

  “Now you stay in there until you sober up.” She turned on the shower, letting the cold water beat down on me. I sputtered and coughed, pulling myself up from drowning. Xany stalked out, leaving me in the bathroom with the door open, saying something about coffee.

  Suddenly, I heard her shriek and say, “Who the hell are you?”

  I turned off the water and let the tub drain. When I stood, I slipped and caught the shower curtain, tearing it down with me. I lay in the tub, huffing and puffing, my teeth chattering as I watched a redheaded blur bolt into the room with Xany rushing behind her.

  “Hey!” Xany shouted. “Get away from her.”

  The woman turned toward Xany, stopping her in her tracks before crouching down and untangling me from the curtain. I swatted at her as she helped me stand.

  “I found her drunk and was trying to sober her up,” Xany explained. The woman glanced at her again before lifting me out of the tub.

  “Put me down, Vanessa, I can walk.” I shoved at her in a feeble attempt.

  “Shawnee…”

  “I’m not drunk. Get away from me.” I jerked away from her and picked up a towel from the floor to wrap around myself.

  “She is so,” Xany said with a huff.

  “Who are you?” Vanessa turned toward her with narrowed eyes.

  “I’m Xany. I live down the hall.”

  “What happened, Shawnee? Did you have a dream?” Vanessa tried to take my hands in hers. I pulled away from her again, then suddenly lunged at her in a failed attempt to shove her backward.

  “Get the fuck away from me. You’re always in my way,” I spat at Vanessa, who kept blocking my attempts to leave the bathroom.

  “Is she always like this?” Xany asked Vanessa, who glanced at her suspiciously before nodding.

  “Shawnee, calm down.” Vanessa backed up to allow me to enter the bedroom.

  “You’re just as bad as the nosy bitch.” I tossed the towel to the floor, my anger making my motions jerky and quick. Vanessa ignored my insults.

  “Hey.” Xany shot me an offended look.

  “What happened?” Vanessa continued to stay in front of me as I moved.

  “Nothing! Get away from me before I rip out your fucking throat!” I screamed and lunged at her again, needing an outlet for my rage, my pain, my suffering. This time Vanessa caught me, and we dropped to the ground. She wrapped her arms around my torso, restraining me as I thrashed and struggled against her. Xany looked on in horror.

  “Stop it, Shawnee,” Vanessa whispered in my ear. “No one’s going to hurt you.”

  “I hate you! Let me go!” I tried to scratch at Vanessa, but she caught my wrists and held me until I began to cry. Xany knelt beside us when she saw my tears.

  “No, I won’t let you go. Tell me what happened,” Vanessa implored.

  “No!” I cried, my struggling growing weaker as I did. “Don’t make me.”

  “Tell me,” Vanessa whispered again, letting go of my wrists to wrap her arms around me, no longer restraining me but hugging me instead. I screamed but stopped fighting her. Tears streamed down my cheeks, and I turned so that I was lying against her chest. She rested her chin on my head and glanced to Xany.

  “Don’t make me,” I begged, fatigue washing over me.

  “I won’t make you,” she whispered, watching Xany.

  The last thing I saw before passing out was Vanessa and Xany sharing a silent stare.

  Chapter Six

  A headache pounded at my temples when I woke up around noon. Hangovers will do that. I had little memory of the night prior, but I did remember insulting Xany and Vanessa. I just couldn’t think about it anymore. Not only had I embarrassed myself in front of Vanessa, which was pretty common these days, but I also embarrassed myself in front of Xany. My next-door neighbor who I was sure would run off and tell her b
ig ole Indian brother. I went to the kitchen and fixed myself a measly bowl of cereal and sat in silence while eating. The sound of my crunching was like a jackhammer inside my head.

  It’s your own fault.

  The jackhammer turned into an earthquake when I heard someone banging on my door. I dropped my spoon with a clatter that made me cringe. Blinded by the pain, I opened the door without thinking. There stood Xany.

  “Hey… How do you feel?” Her voice was soft, her demeanor almost submissive.

  “Fine, why?” I raised an eyebrow.

  “Well, after last night, your head should be pounding.”

  “I’m fine.” My head was pounding though. “What do you want?”

  “Caden still wants to talk to you.” She shifted uncomfortably, as if she knew the news wasn’t going to sit well with me.

  It was strange seeing her subdued and a little put off. I knew I had been rude to her lately. She didn’t deserve the way I had treated her, and now seeing her appear so overcome, I felt horrible. Maybe it was the hangover, but still.

  “I’m sorry for being rude to you.”

  Her eyes grew wide at my words. “You don’t have to apologize, just talk to him.”

  “I do have to apologize. You meant well…” I hesitated before adding, “I’ll talk to him.”

  I hated when other people were hurting, particularly if I was the source. I was a doctor. I was supposed to fix hurts, not cause them. A surge of life sprung to Xany’s features, and she smiled at me.

  “Come over in about half an hour okay? I need to wake him up.” She giggled, and the bounce returned to her step as she hopped out the door. I smirked and closed it behind her.

  The bathroom curtain was on the floor when I entered to take a shower. I frowned at it and carefully put it back in place before slipping out of my clothes. I didn’t really want to talk to Caden, but I figured owning up to the truth was the only way to get them off my back. In a way, it might be easier. After twenty minutes of enjoying the hot water running down my body, I brushed my fingertips over my stomach where the heat of the trickling water had started to irritate my sensitive scar. It was my father who had given me that scar— a zigzag below my navel that happened when I was about eight—along with many others. It was hard to hold back the tears that came when I remembered the rusty old ski pole that caused the scar. I hate ski poles. I hate garbage too. And trailers.