The Dark Corner

by Easton Livingston

  “Why did you leave me there to die Sean? I called for you. I screamed for you. You never came. Why?”

  She moved closer, her eyes pleading for the answer to her question.

  “Get away from me!” he yelled as he found the strength to move, backing over a pile of boxes. “You are not Bernice!”

  She coughed, a dark bile exiting her mouth. She raised her hand and wiped it which was useless.

  “How can you say that? Don’t you remember? This is how you left me. I find it so interesting that you can always find the strength to save yourself, like now, but you just couldn’t find the strength to save me.”

  Sean closed his eyes, slamming his hands over his ears to block out her voice.

  “No! That’s not true. This is not true. This is not true. Get out of my head!”

  “Now, you know I can’t do that honey,” she said. Even with his hands over his ears, her voice was as clear as if she was standing right next to him. “Plus, I thought you would be happy to see me. I am your wife after all. You know. For better or worse. In sickness and in health. But maybe that wasn’t what you meant. Maybe we should have said ‘Every man for himself in sickness and in health.’”

  “Shut-up!”

  “No! You shut-up you gutless worm! You spineless coward! What kind of man are you that you would sit there and watch your wife burn to death? Was it exciting for you? Were you happy I was gone?”

  Tears ran down Sean’s face.

  “I don’t... no. I didn’t want to do that,” he said through choked sobs. “I didn’t. I don’t know why. I... I froze. I just froze.”

  “Don’t worry, honey. I forgive you. Come give me a hug, Bear.”

  Bear. Her nickname for him. This was not possible, but it was happening. He covered his face in shame, his body wracked with crying. Fleshless arms extend as she ambled towards him. The stench of burnt flesh was overwhelming as she came nearer. His body shook, trepidation tunneling through every nerve in his body. He couldn’t move anymore. He didn’t want to move anymore. It was all too much.

  She reached him, knelt down beside him, and embraced him.

  The pain was excruciating. Every nerve in his body was on fire in an instant. Sean screamed.

  “There, there. It’s going to be okay, Bear.”

  Instinct kicked in as he pushed her away. He backed away, shooting to his feet, scrambling over boxes. He should have done something that day. She was right. To do what he did was the act of a coward. He didn’t blame her for not forgiving him. He couldn’t either.

  “Bear,” she said, standing. “What’s the matter? I thought you wanted to be with me? That’s what it’s like to be with me. To experience what I experience every day. Pain. Pain through every millimeter of my body. That’s the only way we’ll be together again. Remember our vows? ‘And the two shall become one?’ Don’t you want to be one with me again? Don’t you want to love me again?”

  “Stay away from me! I’m sorry! Please!”

  Sean darted up the stairs, banging his shin against the landing. He fled, hobbling the rest of the way, the prey escaping the predator. Charging through the kitchen like a bull, he slipped and fell, hurting his knee. Ashley was already in the kitchen with her daughter in her arms. She’d heard the yelling and screaming from upstairs and had come down to investigate.

  “Sean. What’s wrong?”

  Sean was on the floor holding his knee, his face contorted in pain. Ashley knelt beside him.

  “What happened? What’s the matter? Do you need a doctor?”

  Sean was oblivious to her words, his eyes fixed on the basement entrance. Bernice called to him, standing there beckoning him with outstretched arms.

  “Bear. Don’t leave me again. Come back. Don’t run away again. Have you no shame? Have you no honor. Look at me! Look at me! I hate you for this! I hate you!”

  “No!” he screamed, startling Ashley and baby Jessica who cried at the outburst.

  “I said I was sorry!”

  He stumbled out the back door holding his injured knee leaving Ashley surprised and confused.

  “Sean!”

  It was pointless. He’d left. She looked back at the basement door, wondering why his attention was so fixed on it and who he was yelling at. There was nothing there.

  Part IV - A Question of Suicide>

  Debbie Johansen sat on the couch, numb to everything and everyone around her. The palpable poignant atmosphere swam between the fake condolences and genuine concern. She wasn't familiar with half of the people. Employees and coworkers of Dana who didn't care one wit he lay in a coffin never to rise again. A closed coffin. Just an excuse to get time off work.

  She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, attempting to block out the useless chatter and sideways glances. She shouldn't be speculating like that whether it was true or not. It was a testament to these people they showed up at all given whose funeral it was. Dana Johansen. Rude, arrogant, womanizing husband of hers. Dana Johansen. Vain, conceited, and so full of himself he'd choke on his own ego.

  A splinter agitated her thoughts.

  She knew her husband, better than anyone milling around her home. Better than even her mother-in-law who found it easy to put herself on display on the opposite side of the room telling inflated stories about Dana's childhood. She didn't understand why God kept her alive. She was a walking smokestack, her lungs probably resembling the Black Lagoon. Yet there she was, the shrillness of her voice cutting through the low rumblings of conversations taking place throughout her home. Not that it wasn't fair. It made little sense because she knew her husband. Despite what the police told her, despite what the neighbors had whispered about for the last week, she knew her husband.

  “How you holding up honey?”

  Debbie glanced up into the only face she desired to see. Her girlfriend Katy.

  “I'm not sure I am.”

  Katy sat down next to her, a mask of sympathy sculpted on her face.

  “I know it’s hard honey,” she declared, wrapping her big arms around her. Katy was one of a few people she could rely upon.

  The splinter regained momentum, digging deeper, refusing to capitulate.

  “This is not right.”

  “I know honey. I know.”

  “No, you don't.”

  Debbie turned to look at Katy, her countenance irritated.

  “This doesn't make any sense. Dana would not have killed himself. He was a lot of things, but suicidal was not one of them.”

  Katy raised an eyebrow. Her brown demeanor declared she was considering the validity of Debbie's statement. That's why Debbie was glad to see her. If she had said it to anyone else, it would have been dismissed outright, attributed to grief and shock.

  “Well, Dana did love him some Dana. Committing suicide is the last thing I would have thought ran through his mind. Ever. That man admired his own shadow.”

  Debbie lowered her head, smiling with a soft snicker.

  “Even so, we can never completely know someone honey. Not even ourselves. No matter what we like to think about somebody, everyone is capable of anything.”

  Debbie's took her turn to consider the statement. Katy was right. To say Dana was incapable of suicide would just be putting on blinders to reality. People who believed their loved ones would never commit terrible acts lived in the realm of their desires, their personal haven of fiction. Human nature is deceptive at convincing a person what they think is true despite what's in front of them. She included herself in that group because she married Dana.

  He didn't just become the person he was out of the blue. He got worse and she chose to ignore the signs. Comfort came from labeling them as manifestations of confidence or a male thing. But the splinter was always present, telling her otherwise, alerting her to a truth she didn't want to admit. By the time she had surrendered to its constant prodding, things had gotten unbearable. The last straw broke. He had an affair. She had enough. They separated. Dana did not want to get a divorce, so they began
counseling with a therapist to salvage the wreck he had caused. It was commendable. That much she gave him. However, the ship had sailed. She had decided the marriage was over.

  His arrogance, conceit, and carelessness she could take. She would have gone to counseling for that. But sleeping with another woman? Touching someone in the way reserved for them alone? Husband and wife? To have and to hold? Soulmates?

  No. She couldn't do it. What made it worse was a part of her wanted to do it, to work it out, to keep her family together. It tore her up inside. She didn't want to become another statistic of failed marriages. But the betrayal, the lies… the wound cut too deep. Necessity dictated she escape the marriage for the sake of sanity and the welfare of her children, the latter making it especially difficult.

  Everything was different now. Dana was dead and that brought with it a whole different set of problems. Her family had become a statistic of another kind.

  The official cause of death was a self-inflicted gunshot wound while staring into the mirror of their upstairs bathroom. Therein lay the problem because with that revelation came the splinter again. She had spent seven years ignoring it before. She would not do that again.

  Something was off. She was confused as to why she held onto that reasoning like a lamprey to its host. A woman’s intuition? Whatever it was, it was staunch in its refusal to budge so she didn’t fight it any longer and acquiesced.

  She knew her husband. He wouldn't commit suicide. As she embraced this line of thinking, the splinter exploded, mushrooming in her mind. The queries aligned themselves into an ordered connection of questions. She asked first why he had done it but that had initiated the splinter. Then she asked why it happened but that confused the matter. Now, she arrived at the right question. It wasn't why did he do it. It wasn't why did it happen. The question was, what actually happened?

  Part V - Sean Takes a Trip

  “That guy clearly has more problems than just his weight,” Brian said when he got home later as Ashley recounted the incident.

  “Brian, I’m serious,” she protested. “He looked like he’d seen a ghost. The guy was scared out of his mind.”

  She rubbed her hands up and down her arms. Brian slid over to her side of the couch, putting his arm around her. She squeezed tight with both arms around him while resting her head on his chest. The scent of her hair filled his nostrils as he kissed her head, his mood pensive. Whatever happened had gripped them both. Ashley didn’t spook too easy, and this had her disturbed.

  “I’ll tell you what. Let me go over there and check on him. Make sure everything is okay.”

  “Thank you,” Ashley said, kissing him.

  Brian got up from the couch and slipped his tennis shoes on at the front door.

  “Dr. Phil to the rescue,” he said with a wink before leaving.

  He made it to the bottom of his front steps when he saw Sean loading a suitcase into the back of his car.

  “Sean,” Brian called out. Sean paused before continuing to situate his luggage. Whatever destination Sean had in mind, he was in a hurry to get there.

  “Hey,” Brian said, stepping out of the way as Sean stuffed a small carrying case on the floor in the back seat. “Ashley told me what happened earlier. She's concerned. Got her a little freaked out.”

  Sean paused, looking down at the ground before meeting Brian's gaze.

  “I'm… I'm sorry about that. I didn't mean to scare her.”

  Sean broke away and resumed his task, grabbing two small bags from his porch.

  “Well, it might be a good idea if you went ahead and told her yourself.”

  Sean set the bags down in the front seat on the passenger's side, attempting to close the door. The door latch stuck, an ongoing problem he'd had but never had the time or desire to get fixed. All it took was to move the latch down so it would catch the door pin but he found it hard to stay focused and think straight.

  “Let her know everything is alright.”

  He slammed the door. Once. Twice. Three times until it closed, each time his frustration and anger building.

  The growing outburst and tension startled Brian.

  “Or not. Hey man. Seriously. You want to talk about what's bothering you? I know it may not seem like it but I'm a halfway decent listener.”

  Sean gave a heavy sigh then looked at Brian again.

  “I…”

  There was something in his expression, something in his eyes that made Brian take a step back. A wildness. A dark well of unbridled certainty. Pain. Confusion. Terror. It flashed on his face in the breadth of a millisecond then disappeared. Pulled back, choked down, caged in the depths of his psyche, replaced by an emotional garrison.

  “I have to go.”

  Sean rushed to the driver's side of his car.

  “Tell Ashley I appreciate her checking on me. I'm not going to be able to help her get the basement organized.”

  “Sean. What's going on here man? Where are you going?”

  “I… I haven't been feeling well lately. I'm checking myself into the hospital for a little while until… until I'm better.”

  Sean's countenance softened.

  “Thanks, Brian.”

  Brian watched as Sean pulled out, bewilderment mired in his mind. He did not understand what had just happened. A Dr. Phil he was not.

  Part VI - Spider Mind

  Sean's abrupt departure plagued Brian and Ashley for the next two days. Brian had no idea why it bothered him at all. He hardly knew the guy. He hardly wanted to know the guy. Yet now, something nagged at him that he couldn't get a handle on. When he thought about it, it all came back to one thing. It was how he looked at him before he got in the car and drove off. He'd never seen that look in anyone's face before in his life. However, by mid-week, he'd let it go, chalking it up as unknown issues he was glad he was not privy.

  Ashley, on the other hand, sincerely cared. Though she had not known Sean long, she sensed a heaviness, a sorrowful weight that he carried. She didn't think it was her place to pry so never pursued the subject in conversation. Now, she was having second thoughts. Maybe if she should have said something. If she would have had been the outlet he needed to talk about whatever was troubling him, he wouldn't have had a breakdown. Or episode. Or whatever they were calling it these days.

  The sad reality was that there was nothing she could do about it now. Wherever he was, she prayed that he was doing better. She planned to find out later where he had been admitted. She had a home to settle into. She would have to pull double duty without Sean's help which she was getting used to relying on.

  Be thankful for your blessings while ya got 'em.

  They were partially settled into their new home. Ashley had awakened, made breakfast, and helped Brian get ready for work, the same morning ritual she had for the past seven years. The major project today was to paint the basement, the target area being where her washer and dryer set. The concrete walls were gloomy, and she wanted to paint the area with something bright. A little online research and a trip to the paint shop had her settling for a color called Bluebell. It was a soft, happy shade she couldn't wait to use. Her mother babysat Jessica upstairs for a few hours while she worked. She didn't expect to get done, but she wanted to get a good head start.

  It was about 9:30 a.m. when she descended to tackle her personal project. The day before, she had set out the materials needed for the job so she could get right to work. Dressed in a pair of old, holey Levis and one of Brian’s throwaway t-shirts, she began. The large putty knife and wire brush chipped away the loose paint. Small flakes flew off in random directions giving in to her steady strokes. Though she had on safety glasses, she couldn't help but squint as pieces flew off the wall onto the floor. “Thank God, I have these things on,” she said to herself. “This stuff has been on these walls since the beginning of time.”

  Scraping one wall took a little over half an hour and her arms were a little tired after the job was done. Her inspection of the wall found no cracks.
One less step for her since she wouldn't have to repair them. She then gave the wall a thorough scrubbing with soap and water and waited for it to dry.

  The work wasn't strenuous, but she didn't want to overdo it. After a while, it was time to take a break. She wiped her brow with her forearm and inspected her work. This was their first home together, and it was exciting. There was a sense of satisfaction and accomplishment. They had been living in an apartment for far too long. Brian, being the stickler he was, wanted to save up the money for the down payment. He also wanted to make sure it would be at least fifteen percent of the price of the home they were looking to purchase. In order for that to happen, they lived with her parents which didn't last long. Brian was going nuts with the lack of privacy.

  So, they got their own apartment and lived there for five years. Ashley worked four of those years. She planned on opening her own business—a hair salon. But having Jessica put her plans on an indefinite pause. She could have still started her business, but she was not about to shove Jessica into a daycare just for a career. She was comfortable with who she was as a woman and had nothing to prove. It wasn't worth it. Those were years you couldn't get back once your children were older. Plus, Brian's income was plenty for the time being. She'd have time to pursue her career once Jessica was in her teens.

  Now, here they were. The dream they had discussed multiple times was a reality. This was home. Their home. The more she looked at the wall, the more she wanted to hurry and finish what she could so Brian would be surprised when he came home from work.

  “Agghh!”

  She dropped the wire brush, springing away from the wall in disgust. Dangling on an almost invisible thread in front of her was a brown spider. It was rather small. In an instant, fear constricted her stomach. She’d always disliked bugs in general but spiders were on the top of the list and for good reason.

  She was attending a local community college. It's all she could afford. That precipitated her staying at home instead of a dorm since there weren't any on campus. She didn't mind that. She actually preferred it. There had been a lot of talk in high school among her friends, how they were all going to attend the same college and room together. Life would be one long slumber party. She liked a good time, but she had to temper her contact with most of them. They could only be tolerated in spurts. The idea of having to room with them would have been one serious distraction. She didn't have the willpower to refuse whatever craziness they wanted to get into on a regular basis. So, she stayed with the familiar. Her own bedroom decorated with soft blue paint and posters. Gorgeous movie and music stars, either performing or posing shirtless, filling her mind with many pleasant but not so decent thoughts. Better that than getting into worse trouble.