Half to Death

by Robin Alexander

  “We’re just concerned,” I said. “You seem to be losing an awful lot, and we wanted to make sure you weren’t sick.”

  “I’m not sick,” Deb said defensively.

  “Good, that takes a load off my mind.” I smiled, but Deb didn’t return it.

  “You looked at me so strangely in the kitchen the other night. What was that all about?” Deb asked, raising a brow.

  “I noticed how thin your arm was when you rolled up your sleeves to wash your hands.”

  “And why the long sleeves? The weather’s been warm lately. We’ve all been wearing shorts, and you still dress like it’s winter,” Miranda said.

  I knew what she was doing—the good cop, bad cop thing—but I didn’t think that was going to work on Deb.

  “What’s with the attitude, Miranda?” Deb was getting riled up. “Are you jealous? I’m losing weight and you’re not?”

  “Of course not,” Miranda spat out. “Bottom line, you’re too damn skinny, Deb. Whatever you’re doing needs to stop.”

  Everything began to spin out of control.

  “Don’t get on your high horse and tell me what I can and can’t do, Miranda Donahue.”

  The rhyme struck me funny and I snorted. They both looked at me. “The rhyme can’t do, Miranda Donahue.” I shrugged when they failed to see the humor.

  “Are you binging and purging?” Miranda asked pointedly.

  “Fuck you! Did Angel tell you that?” Deb jumped to her feet.

  I jumped, too. “Now wait, Angel didn’t say anything.” I looked back at Miranda with daggers in my eyes. “Miranda just asked a question. It’s reasonable from where we’re standing.”

  “Where you’re standing is outside. Get the hell out of my house!”

  “Deb, please,” I said, hoping for just a tendril of reasoning. The door slamming on my ass dismissed all chances of that.

  “What happened in there?” I asked Miranda angrily when we got into my car.

  “We weren’t getting anywhere. I was trying to fluster her so she would slip up and admit what she was doing.”

  I rubbed my pounding forehead. “I cannot believe you asked her straight up if she binged and purged.”

  “Well, how else were we gonna do it?” Miranda said angrily. “With Deb, you just have to jump in there sometimes. Maybe now that she knows we suspect what she’s doing, she’ll stop.”

  “I think we both know it’s not that simple. Let her cool down for a while and maybe we can reason with her.”

  Miranda scrubbed at her face. “I guess the cookout on the beach is off.”

  I almost reached over and patted her arm and stopped mid-reach. “Let it ride for a while.”

  Miranda huffed, then sighed loudly. “Let’s go to the gym. I have some anxiety to work off. You think you can handle being around Jade?”

  I nodded. “She’s all business when she’s at work. I think I can keep to my side of the gym.”

  *******

  When we arrived, I almost went outside to see if it was a full moon because everyone seemed to be pissed off. Miranda was tortured by the encounter with Deb, and Jade wasn’t much better. We passed her in the hall as we were going to the locker room to change. “Hey, Jade,” I said cheerfully.

  Her eyes were cold when she looked at us. “Hey,” she said and kept on walking.

  “Got a bug in her ass tonight, too.” Miranda looked over her shoulder and watched as Jade stomped into the gym.

  I tried to focus on stretching out, but I couldn’t help but glance in the mirror at Jade as she talked to whom I presumed was a newbie to the gym.

  Unlike Miranda and me, who looked like we bought our workout gear secondhand, this woman was in what appeared to be new duds. The Nike swoosh was on everything from her shoes to her socks. Her matching shirt and shorts also sported the logo. Her face was made up, too, including what I liked to call hooker red lipstick. Most people took off their jewelry when exercising but not this woman. She was sporting more bling than most actors did on the red carpet.

  Wealth and privilege oozed from her pores, and I wondered why she wasn’t in one of the upscale gyms in Tallahassee instead of this backwater hole in the woods.

  I felt immediate dislike shoot through me as she moved close to Jade every time she spoke. Jade would take a step back, and the woman would step closer. When Jade began demonstrating how to use the equipment, the woman watched with a slight smile on her face. I didn’t have to touch her to know that she wasn’t truly interested in what the machines could do for her, but rather Jade’s body as it flexed and moved. When it came her turn to try, she didn’t appear to give much effort. The displeasure on Jade’s face was reminiscent of the way she looked at me when she thought I was a player.

  “Come on, time for the damn lunges.” Miranda got into position and stared up at me until I fell in step.

  I caught Jade watching us. The newbie next to her followed her gaze and our eyes met. My dislike of her rose as I noticed the dismissal. She looked at me and Miranda like we were a distraction she shouldn’t have to tolerate. She put her hand on Jade’s arm, forcing her to look away.

  I was jealous. Not just because this woman had her attention, but she could do something I’d always taken for granted. She could touch without having to worry about being slammed into someone else’s consciousness. She could enjoy the simplicity of touch, the warmth and softness of another’s skin. It made me burn.

  “This isn’t doing you any good.”

  I looked back at Miranda. She was standing with her hands on her hips, her expression sad.

  “You can’t even focus, you’re so drawn to her. Maybe we should buy some equipment and work out at home.”

  “You said I shouldn’t lock myself away anymore. I should get back into my routines.” I immediately felt discouraged because I knew what she meant. I had to back away from Jade. I had to go on with my life like it had been before Jade came to Panacea.

  Miranda narrowed her eyes. “You know what I mean.”

  As much as I tried to ignore Jade, I couldn’t. I’d get into what I was doing and she’d walk by or I’d hear her voice, and I’d be distracted again. We left before we’d done half of the program.

  *******

  Miranda was sitting at my kitchen table stroking the bridge of her nose. I didn’t say anything because I knew she was deep in thought, trying to work the puzzle that had become my life. I sat next to her and propped my chin in my hand and waited for her to acknowledge me.

  “When you come in contact with someone, the video immediately starts to play, and you feel what they feel, right?”

  “Like I’m in their body, yes.”

  “Okay, how about you touch me, but focus on what you’re feeling? Try to feel my skin, focus on that.” She put her hand out, and I stared at it for a second before I reached over and laid mine upon hers.

  Miranda was sleepy. The words on the page had begun to blur a bit. She looked over at Marty, who was lying in the bathtub. Her eyes were closed, but her brow had a stark line through it as she concentrated on what Miranda was reading.

  The connection broke when Miranda pulled her hand away.

  “Do you realize you just made me see your wife naked?”

  Miranda’s face turned red as she frowned. “You weren’t supposed to see that.”

  “You read to her in the bathtub, that’s so sweet.”

  “Marty’s learning a new computer system at work. She falls asleep anytime she reads the manual, so I try to help.” Miranda thrust out her hand again. “Feel my skin, the calluses on my hand. Focus on that.”

  Miranda’s hand lay palm up. I looked at her skin, the tiny lines, the pale calluses and tried to imagine what they’d feel like under my fingertips. With that in mind, I touched her lightly. Images tried to come, but I mentally shoved them back. In my mind’s eye, I could see the image blurry like it was a video on pause. I stared hard at Miranda’s palm, focusing solely on what it felt like. Miranda’s feelings bubbled
up in me like a spring. Those I could not stop. She was curious, hopeful, and somewhere far back worried about Deb.

  This time, I broke the connection and grinned. “I stopped it. I didn’t go into your mind. I could still feel your emotions, though.”

  Miranda jumped in her seat. “Could you feel my skin?”

  “Yes,” I said, matching her enthusiasm. “It was like I was forcing two sides of my brain to work in unison. I saw your hand, I felt it.”

  Miranda stroked the bridge of her nose twice as she looked at me. “You hated math and daydreamed in class all the time. Do you remember admitting that to me?”

  “Yeah, and I remember Mom going ballistic when I got a D my first semester in high school.”

  “Right. Then you forced yourself to pay attention. You had to train your brain to listen and focus. I think you’re gonna have to do the same with this.” She pounded her hands on the table. “You can do this. You just have to practice.”

  I clapped my hands together and stared at the ceiling. I was seeing light at the end of a dark tunnel I thought I’d never crawl out of.

  “Look at me,” Miranda said, drawing my attention. “You can harness this crazy thing. You can have it all, you just have to work really hard. Think of it as a tool you can use when you need to but put in a box when you don’t.”

  I liked that analogy.

  “We’ll practice together as much as you need.” She grinned. “I’m with you most of the time, anyway. I’m happy to be your guinea pig.”

  I looked at her, and the love in my heart overwhelmed me. She was more dedicated to me than my own brother whom I rarely saw on holidays and occasionally sent an e-mail or postcard. “I wish I could hug you.”

  Miranda looked surprised and pleased at my admission. “Do it. Try to focus on what you feel, but if you slip into my mind, I don’t care. I trust you, and there’s nothing I keep from you.”

  We stood and looked at each other awkwardly for a minute. We’d slept in the same bed, one showered while the other used the toilet, but when it came to showing affection, we stumbled. It was my fault, I knew that. Miranda had always been so open, but I was the one who held back. She understood it and never pushed, knowing that I loved her just the same.

  I took the step and watched as her arms opened. I felt them enclose me tightly and the press of her body to mine. Images came, and I pushed against them hard in my mind. She whispered, “I love you,” over and over, and I felt it, nothing but love in its purest, most innocent form.

  I lost myself in her embrace, and for a second, I forgot to fight. Images came before I could stop them. I knew it was the day we stopped being friends and became sisters. I felt the sun on my face—Miranda’s face—the roughness of the rope in my hands. I was balancing on a limb, my bare feet clutched to it like a bird. I felt the muscles in my stomach and arms tighten as I pushed off. The weightlessness was exciting and scary as I swung out high and free. Then I felt my grip slipping, the horror of letting go, and the pain when I crashed to the ground. My ankle was filled with waves of agony that would subside and come back stronger with each beat of my heart.

  I looked up through her eyes at myself. Concern and fear etched my childish face as I fought through the brambles.

  “I think I broke my foot,” Miranda was saying it, but I felt the effort it took to utter the words, the sob rising deep out of my chest.

  I watched the vision of myself kneel down and felt the touch of my own hand on Miranda’s knee. “It’s okay, I’ll carry you,” I heard myself say. “Everything’s gonna be okay, don’t cry.” The compassion in my voice was evident.

  “I’m too heavy, go get Momma,” I felt Miranda say.

  I watched myself shake my head. “I’m not leaving you out here alone.” My face was contorted in fear. “I won’t leave you.”

  I felt the realization in Miranda’s mind. She loves me, she won’t let me down. The tender bond that formed and carried us through adulthood blossomed right there on that hot summer day.

  Miranda stepped back and broke the connection. She waggled a finger at me. “You got in my brain. Practice, practice, prac—” She stopped when she saw the look on my face. “What, what did you see? Was it sad again?”

  I shook my head, unable to speak.

  Miranda grimaced. “You look upset. I want to hug you again, but I don’t think I should.”

  “It wasn’t bad.” My voice came out in a croak. “I saw…the day…the time you realized that I loved you and you loved me. The day we became sisters.”

  I watched the wheels turn behind Miranda’s eyes. “What day was that exactly?” She held her hands up when I looked disappointed. “Sloan, there were so many.”

  “The day we made the rope swing and you broke your ankle.”

  “You were my hero that day.” Miranda smiled wistfully.

  “Well…” I stuffed my hands in my pockets. “You’re my hero today.”

  Chapter 9

  I usually skipped the health club on the days Miranda worked her shift, but…I wanted to see Jade. I knew Miranda was right. I needed to avoid her until I got my brain under control. I reasoned that at the health club we wouldn’t have any time alone, and I could just observe Jade from afar. I had no reference for what it felt like to fall in love, but I thought I barely knew Jade, and what Miranda claimed was the beginning of love was just curiosity out of control.

  I even waved off the tiny jump my heart made when I spotted her as I came in the door. She was wearing a pair of black shorts with reflective piping that went around the edges. A black sleeveless T-shirt clung tightly to her body. Her back was to me when I started my stretches, and I was content to occasionally glance her way. Just being in the same room with her made me feel something I didn’t recognize.

  I looked into the mirror and caught her eye as she watched me. It felt like something passed between us. She smiled, a real smile that transformed her face, not the work smile. I found myself grinning until she walked into the room.

  Miss Bling was wearing a light blue shirt that matched her shorts. The band around the top of her ankle socks matched the whole ensemble. She walked right up and put a hand on Jade’s arm, and whatever was flowing between us came to a screeching halt.

  I started hefting weights like a body builder. I was grunting and puffing with the men alongside me, although their weights were significantly heavier. I despised the newcomer and needed to dispel the angry energy that flowed through me whenever I looked at her. I’d never truly known jealousy; the feeling was foreign, and I hated it. I also despised the fact that the flirtatious woman could make me feel it, like she had some power over me I couldn’t control.

  My gaze wandered and I found Jade again. She had the bitch in blue doing lunges. I watched her make one pass across the gym and begin to protest. Jade seemed to be arguing with her. I watched the tiny muscle flicker in her cheek as Jade clamped her jaw tightly. The woman was smiling and saying something that had no effect on Jade’s ire. That made me smile.

  I’d noticed that Jade usually spent an hour with each client. Usually after she was finished with them, they looked like they’d been through a fierce battle, red-faced and breathing heavily. This woman did not. Instead of gulping down water and limping toward the door as the others did, she hung around watching as Jade worked with another one of her victims.

  This was a turning point for me. I had been avoiding touch, but I wanted to touch this woman. I was fairly certain what she had on her mind, but I wouldn’t be satisfied until I had her number completely. I contemplated offering my hand for her to shake but thought better of it because that would poke holes in my germaphobe lie. The latter idea was more plausible. I would trip and fall on her. I did just that as I strolled toward the locker room. The collision was a sound one. I acted as though I tripped on my own feet and launched my body into hers.

  Her feelings were the first thing that assaulted me—lust, desire, the need to possess. I let the images come with no resistance. She
was sitting idly at a table on a sun porch. I felt the coolness of the spoon that she toyed with and finally laid next to a cup of tea. Her gaze settled on an older man who looked familiar as he read The Washington Post. “I’m working with a personal trainer. She has an amazing body.”

  The man turned down one corner of the paper and smiled. She was pleased, then I realized this was a game between them. It was like digging through a file cabinet in her mind, I went through everything I could find. She wasn’t a lesbian, not even bisexual really. But it turned her on incredibly that he was aroused by her exploits. She’d brought many a woman to their bed while he watched unbeknownst to the new lover.

  “She’s playing hard to get, but I’ll bend her to my will.” The paper didn’t move, and she continued. “You’re gonna like seeing me in her arms. Watch her sexy mouth move across my body.” The paper did move then, and I realized I knew this man from somewhere. I dug deeper into her mind until I found his name. Robert Priest was a high-powered lawyer who had recently been elected as senator in Florida. She was his toy, and he kept her tucked away in a beach house in the obscure area of Alligator Point.

  No one knew Jacquelyn Marlow, but that would change, she thought. She’d played the game well for a few years and earned his trust. And soon she’d let word and pictures of their affair leak to the press, and everyone and his brother would want her story as mistress to the man who had his eye on the presidency. That it would ruin his career was of no consequence to her. He was a liar and a cheat, and it would feel good to step on his neck to elevate herself to fame. Jade was only a toy in the back of her mind.

  She pushed at me roughly and broke the connection. “What’s wrong with you?” she asked angrily.

  “I tripped.” I stayed on my hands and knees. “It knocked the breath out of me.”

  Not one ounce of compassion showed in her eyes, rather a disgust for coming in physical contact with the likes of me.

  Strong hands gripped my arms, and I felt myself rise up like a feather-light rag doll. I didn’t have to look to know it was Jade. I fought to keep a mental hold on the feel of her hands and marvel at her strength, but my newly acquired skill was no match for the strong feelings and images her touch evoked.