“It still bothers me,” he whispered, wringing his hands together. “I’m not sure I’ll ever get over that. She… I feel like I knew her, even though we never really did. I imagined her. So many times. And I had conversations with her, and she went to college, and she grew up and we were grandparents. But none of those things really happened. Just… just the feelings. The pain. Without any of the joy.”
She rushed to the table, kneeling down beside him and holding both of his hands. “I’m so sorry, Cyrus. We never should have done it. But… but we were scared.”
“I wonder if she was scared.” Cyrus’s face was stone-cold, showing no emotion, but Ophelia could tell his heart was torn into pieces inside. “Can babies feel fear before they enter the world?”
“There’s lots of fear in the world,” she suggested. “It makes sense that some of that would seep through to them. But there’s also lots of love. And if they can feel fear, then they can feel love.”
“So she knew we didn’t love her.”
“We did love her!” Ophelia exclaimed. “Don’t you dare say that, Cyrus. You know we loved her. It just… It never would have worked! You said so yourself. We weren’t ready for a kid.”
“Thanks for reminding me,” he grumbled. “I already know it was all my fault. I didn’t need-”
She grabbed the back of his neck and hauled herself onto his lap. Ophelia pressed his head against her chest, comforting him. He broke down and began to cry, and soon she was too. That day, in mid-spring, was forever tortured by their memory and action. They still weren’t sure whether it was the right thing to do. At the time, it seemed necessary, and definitely in their best interest. But… that didn’t make it easy.
“Were we right?” she asked in the silence of their bed that night, breaking the peace.
“It doesn’t matter now,” he answered. “What’s done is done.”
In that same bed, a month later, she would burst into the room, holding something in her right hand. Shrieking with joy, she ran to Cyrus and kissed him, telling him the good news. He celebrated with her, just as loudly, and together they passed that evening with wine and movies.
But when he went to sleep, a dark expression passed over his face, and remained there. It scared her, so much that she left the room for a moment. She found her sleeping pills, and those were able to calm her heart, but that vision remained in her head.
Either way, they were going to be parents. And this kid… This one would be perfect.
“Please never leave me,” she begged him the next morning, cuddling up to him on the couch as soon as they woke up. “I would kill myself if I didn’t have you. I would shoot myself. Honestly.”
Chapter 21
Outside of Your Head
Cyrus peered out the window of his attic, holding a weathered, crumpled piece of paper in his hands. They were shaking, clamped so tightly he was afraid the thin sheet might rip. It was torn out from a newspaper, with certain sections highlighted and others blacked out. His entire body trembled as he stared at the yard below, watching Will and the lawn mower as they slowly progressed in rows away from his house.
It was a bright day outside, too much sunshine for his liking. The hangover from Monday night had mostly worn off, as had the memories and the sighting of Ruby. Every time they made eye contact, it was a shot to the heart for him. Those eyes, the ones he’d never seen… never would see… the hands he’d never hold…
How long had it been? They were so young, carefree, and their relationship was everything a secret one could be. Until that day. He was afraid of everyone finding out, but who really? His parents? Or Dumpy? They’d both have been mad. Dumpy would’ve been out for blood if he knew. His love… Ophelia…
Cyrus slammed his head into the wall, so hard that a trickle of blood ran down between his eyes. He wiped it away, ripping a small corner of paper and taping it to the wound.
His eyes drifted back to the scene below, where Will continued to mow. Only he wasn’t entirely focused on the grass. There was a little girl standing at the fence, with a large bow in her hair.
Leaping out of his skin, Cyrus took the steps three at a time and slammed his feet down on the floor below. Out of breath, he stomped towards the front door and jerked it open, running to the sidewalk.
“What are you doing here?” Cyrus demanded, his eyes piercing the little girl with pure displeasure.
“Just saying hello,” she answered sweetly. “Would you like to buy some Girl Scout cookies?”
“I told you to-!”
“Cyrus?” Will interrupted. “Who is she?”
“She’s…” Cyrus stopped, and faced him instead. “Wait a second. You can see her. You can see her? How… If…”
“Cyrus, it’s just a little girl. What do you mean-?”
“Ruby’s such a secret girl,” she sang, staring at the ground. “Ruby has nowhere to hide. Ruby’s just a simple pearl. Ruby should’ve never… died.” Her eyes flicked to Cyrus. “That’s our song, isn’t it, Daddy?”
“I’m not your father! And you aren’t real!”
“Father?” Will asked. “Wait, does that mean-?”
“It means nothing!” Cyrus roared. “Go put the mower up, boy. Let me deal with… Just go!”
Will hurried away, pushing the mower as quickly as possible to the shed out back. the words stung as he left, but Cyrus could be trusted, and whatever he said would be final. Will had learned to accept that, would gladly do so.
Cyrus waited for him to get far enough away, before striding directly towards the little girl.
“How can he see you, Ruby? How is that possible? He shouldn’t-”
“Cyrus, Cyrus. Just think.” She started singing again. “If I’m in your head, and he sees me too, what does that say about both of you?”
“I don’t know!”
“That’s what I’ve been telling you all along, Cyrus.” She grinned. “You don’t know a whole lot.”
“Just leave me alone, Ruby, please! I’m sorry for what I did. Just let me go! Let me find the man who killed my child. Let me leave, finally!”
“Your child?” Her voice turned malicious. “Your child? Cyrus… oh, Cyrus… you have to remember. Or else more people will die.”
“I’ve done everything I could. I’ve faced my demons!”
“There are demons waiting. So many demons, some you don’t even know of.” She shook her head solemnly. “You thought that was the end… You were wrong.”
Cyrus put a hand up and jerked back towards the house. She made him… weak. All his strength built up, through the years, disappeared when he came face-to-face with her.
“Why haven’t you planted any garden out back?” she asked suddenly. “Or better question: What reason did you tell Will?”
“I’m not a good gardener,” he replied nonchalantly.
“Liar!” she snapped. “I know what you did, Cyrus. Come back here! Don’t ignore me, Cyrus! You’ll regret it!”
He slammed the front door behind him.
Will closed the garage door, and made his way back around front to see what had come of their arguments. When he peered around the corner of the house, both the little girl and Cyrus were gone. With no sign of either one, he went towards the front porch and let himself inside.
“You can see Ruby?” Cyrus asked as soon as he entered.
Will nodded. Cyrus was sitting on the couch, beer bottle in hand. Will took a seat beside him.
“It doesn’t make sense. I thought she was in my head.”
“How come?”
“Because… she has to be, Will. She just has to be.”
“Who is she? Why did she call you Dad?”
Cyrus took a long drink. “There are some things you can’t understand, not yet. I’ll tell you-”
“When I’m older?” One corner of his mouth lifted. “Sorry, that sounded like something an adult would say.”
“You wanna work late today?” Cyrus asked, seemingly off topic. “Maybe do some paint
ing with me upstairs. And I’ll… tell you about Ruby.”
“Tonight? Can’t we do it a different time?”
Cyrus shrugged. “Probably won’t be in the mood.”
“Well… thing is I promised Zada I’d go out with her tonight…”
“Don’t you guys have church on Wednesday nights?” he grumbled.
“Yeah, but me and her like to sneak out of there early and leave church when our parents don’t know. Well, to be honest, we usually don’t go at all. We end up on dates. Our parents don’t know because they stay home, almost every week.”
Cyrus waved his hand. “Go on, go on. Gotta keep your promises.”
Will beamed and shot up off the couch. “Thanks, thanks. I’ll work late some other time. I love the money. I mean, I enjoy having it.”
“Better not love it,” Cyrus chuckled. “Something about ‘root of all evil’ and that.”
Without a word, Will started to slip out the door.
“Hey, kid? Be careful tonight. You hear me?”
“What’s that mean?” Will asked, raising an eyebrow.
“You know.”
<*>* <*>* *< *>* <*>* *< *>*<>
Will shut off the car engine, staring at Zada from the corner of his eye. Her hair was done in some way he’d never seen before, braids and curls strategically placed. She wore a form-fitting shirt, a simple necklace, and a wide smile.
“Um… hi,” he said awkwardly. His eyes roamed over her, as his heart started to pound. He could barely see her in the darkness, but just enough.
They were parked outside of town, in a tiny grove with a few benches scattered around. Overhead, a small gap in the tree canopy granted access to the moon. It was the part of Werifesteria that no adults ever visited, more of a teenage zone, a couple’s area to be precise. Lover’s Lane.
“I…” Will grinned shyly. “Can I kiss you?”
“Straight to the point, hm?” Zada leaned over and placed one hand on the side of his face. “Kiss me.”
It started out softly, and grew more passionate by the moment. Clothes were thrown off in a frenzy, their hearts beating, their brains in overdrive imagining and hoping and amazed. Hormones were off the charts, adrenaline pounding through their bodies at the fear of being caught, but the rush kept them entranced in each other.
They climbed into the backseat, unsure whose idea that had been. But they both desired, they twisted together.
In a flash, it was over, and they lay in uncomfortable positions, exhausted, but not tired in the least. She grinned at him nervously, lovingly, and he kissed her cheek, as soft as possible. They dressed silently, but it wasn’t an awkward kind of quiet. With huge grins, they reached out and held each other’s hands as he retraced the road towards town.
It was a few minutes before Zada started to show her fear. First it was a frown, barely noticeable. Then her head bowed down. Soon she started to cry, planting her face on the dashboard and clutching at her hair.
“Shhh, shhh, babe what’s wrong?” Will parked quickly on the side of the road, shutting off the lights. “Hey, look at me.” His stomach churned as he imagined what she had to say. Did she regret it so much to break up?
She glanced at him, makeup smearing her cheeks. “We… we didn’t use any protection…”
“Oh, shit.” Will’s eyes grew wide. “I mean… that’s not likely, though, that you’re…”
“But what if?”
The question hung in the air like a poison, as a much different future raced through both of their minds, a strange one. Will thought back to second grade, when kissing had seemed disgusting. He never imagined he’d be in this position.
“I’m sure… I mean…”
“You aren’t sure of anything!” she cried out. “What if I’m pregnant? What then?”
“We’ll figure something out. I promise. We’ll get through it. Let’s just see if-”
“Get through it?” she snapped. “Get it through your head! I. Could. Be. Pregnant. Right. Now. With a kid, Will! Your kid! Our kid!’
Will’s head rested against the steering wheel, his hands gripped together in his lap. A mistake. What a mistake. He was uncomfortably aware of his body, every inch of it. How it looked, how it felt, what he smelled like.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I’m just really scared.”
“I understand, Zada. And… if it helps… I’m not going anywhere. If you are, somehow, pregnant… I’m not leaving you. I’m sorry for what… we did. It was my fault. I don’t want to again. I feel… dirty.” He peered up at her through tears perched on the edge of his eyelashes. “Is that okay?”
“I love you,” she said weakly, with a faltering smile.
“I love you too,” he replied automatically, turning the headlights back on and heading for her house.
What if?
Chapter 22
Haunted
He was a different man now, standing at the register in a gas station, trying to buy cold beer to keep his mind off things. Pastor Keener shifted uncomfortably, dressed in casual jeans, a New York Yankees ball cap, and a sweatshirt with some logo too faded to read clearly.
Glancing to his right, he saw his new car, a tiny Hyundai, sitting out by one of the pumps. The cashier was incredibly slow counting out change from the five dollar bill he’d handed over. Tapping his foot on the ground, the pastor kept an eye outside, in case anybody approached him or his defenseless car.
“That’ll be seventy-three cents in change, here you go.” The sloth-like, older man handed the coins over, along with a receipt. “There’s a coupon on-”
“Thanks, bye.” Pastor Keener made his way quickly for the door. Outside, he moved briskly across the parking lot as his eyes snapped to every area. Nobody would sneak up on him, if he had anything to say about it.
“Weirdo, that one is,” said the cashier. He made eye contact with the janitor by the soda machine, and chuckled, jerking a thumb in the odd man’s direction.
“Weird as anybody else that comes here near midnight.” The janitor mumbled, but was cut off by his own wheezing. He drew out another cigarette to calm it.
Pastor Keener slid into the car, locking the doors. He glanced behind him to make sure the seats were empty, and only then did he start the engine.
A few miles up the road, he saw a tall hotel building, with broken lights and a rundown appearance in general. He could almost smell the musty old carpets, and the swimming pool with cockroaches. Something like your typical, forgotten hotel, wasting away. Perfect for what he needed.
Lights flickering, feeble shots in the dark, but he drove his car up the long, winding path anyways, heading straight for them. The driveway twisted up a small hill, ending directly in front of the residence. He parked it deftly in between two faded markers, grabbed his wallet and keys, then clicked the button as he hurried away, making sure the car horn sounded as it locked.
“Nobody would expect me to stop here,” he mumbled to no one in particular. “Wonderful, wonderful.”
Pastor Keener pushed hard on the front, glass doors, as they bumped roughly over the carpet. He ducked inside, shut them, and turned to face the front desk. It was exactly as he’d expected. Old carpets, smelling of mold and rainwater, and wall drapings that probably outdated than his grandmother. The desk attendant was a young, teenage girl, typing away furiously on her cell phone.
“Room for the night?” Pastor Keener asked abruptly.
She jumped in her seat, and raised her eyes slowly. “Sorry, didn’t see you there. Scared me.”
“Room for the night,” he said more forcefully.
“Yeah, we’re not busy at all. Um… Room 238?”
He nodded. “I’ll pay in the morning. I’m tired.”
“There’s a complimentary breakfast every morning, beginning at six and ending at nine. Although, we really leave the food out until somebody eats it or the mice do…” She laughed uneasily. “We don’t run on normal time here.”
“Alright… anyways.” Pa
stor Keener snatched the key she was holding in his direction and stormed away. “Just wanna sleep.”
The room itself was nothing special, but more promising than the hotel lobby. A small bed rested against the wall, and that was basically it. No TV, couch, computer. Just a small fridge, a bedside table, an alarm clock, a bathroom, and the closet.
He leaned over the sink, next to the grubby toilet, and filled a cup with water. His eyes focused on the mirror, where he could see the shower curtains closed behind him, everything appearing untouched. No madman to clobber his head, and no wild animals to attack him. Small victories, but all the same.
Taking one last sip of water, he set it on the counter and went to find his wallet. He set aside some cash for the lady downstairs. It would be better to pay tonight, in case he forgot tomorrow.
As he left the room, with the key in hand, the door clicked shut behind him. The shower curtains moved aside, and a hooded figure emerged, a knife pressed firmly against his hip. He drew out a container from his pocket, miniscule. With barely a noise, he approached the cup of water and dropped a fine powder into it. He swirled it once with his finger, and the substance disappeared, leaving no trace it had existed.
Leaving the room like a shadow, he reached the end of the hallway, opposite the stairs, and pressed against the wall under cover of darkness, staying as still as possible. The pastor returned to enter his room, expecting nothing, and was soon inside.
Pastor Keener stretched, feeling relaxed, as he locked the door. Safety.
After slurping the cup of water dry, he threw it away and went to bed. Nightmares and visions awaited him, of ghosts standing outside the room, rattling the doorknob. He would wake up in a cold sweat and dress for breakfast, make friendly conversation although none of the strangers staying there seemed willing to talk.
And behind it all, the hooded figure. Waiting.
Chapter 23
The Counselor
Cyrus kept his eyes on Will throughout the day. While going about his daily duties, Will felt him watching every moment. It wasn’t a creepy gaze, though, whenever he turned to make eye contact. There was worry in his eyes, care, more than his own father had ever shown. He felt a pang in his heart for Cyrus, wanted to tell him everything. But he couldn’t.
Until We Burn_A Psychological Thriller Page 12
