So, let me introduce myself. My name is Daniel and I’m an alcoholic... oops, sorry guys, wrong meeting.
My name is Daniel and I’m dead. Now, the question you are probably asking yourself is, “How did you die, Daniel?” Am I right? Well, the fact is, I sort of died at the hands of the two people I care most about in this world, my wife Molly and our best friend Jake. For as long as I can remember it has been Molly, Jake and Daniel - The Three Musketeers.
I remember that first day I met Jake. He worked with Molly at our local daily newspaper. Molly’s a reporter and Jake’s her sub-editor. I was picking Molly up to take her out for our first wedding anniversary dinner. What I saw when I walked into the reporter’s room that day, was this ruggedly handsome and very young man sitting on the corner of Molly’s desk, engrossed in conversation with her. It was patently clear there was some sort of chemistry going on between the two of them. Jake was leaning into Molly in a very seductive manner and whispering something in her ear. I couldn’t help but follow the trail of his eyes. He was staring down the front of Molly’s blouse and enjoying the view immensely, I might add, whilst chatting intently to her. Molly clearly knew what was going on as I’d noticed she’d undone the top two buttons of her usually conservatively buttoned, crisp, white blouse.
Molly threw her head back and laughed outrageously at something Jake had said and that was when she saw me, standing there at the cubicle entrance, like a stone statue, holding a bunch of celebratory roses and a box of chocolates in my hand. Her face flushed with embarrassment at the compromising position in which I’d discovered them. Jumping to her feet, she ran to me and threw her arms around my neck, kissing me hard on the lips, perhaps a little too hard, to try to assuage her guilt, was my initial thought.
“Darling,” she cooed to me. “I thought we were meeting at the restaurant. I didn’t expect you to come here.”
Throwing what I hoped was a filthy look at Jake, I snapped brusquely, “Hmmmm... clearly not!”
Unfazed by my obvious fit of jealousy, Molly grinned and grabbed my hand.
“Honey,” she began, “I want you to meet my good friend Jake. He’s been such a help in settling into this new job. He’s the best sub-editor in the world.” Molly smiled openly at Jake, before adding. “He makes my rubbish stories sing. I don’t know where I’d be without him.”
I didn’t really want to meet this Jake character, as I was so pissed at the whole situation. All I wanted to do was to get the hell out of there and take my wife with me.
I grabbed her hand and mumbled, “Honey, we need to get to the restaurant! They won’t hold our table for us if we’re late.”
Molly wrinkled her forehead in that annoyingly cute way of hers and crinkled her eyes in amusement.
“Hehehe,” she giggled. “Oh honey, I think you’re jealous of Jake, aren’t you? Come on and meet him, babes, you’ll like him, I just know you will.”
I grumbled a little but allowed her to pull me over to meet this Jake. Deciding to make the best of a bad situation, I thrust out my hand and lowered my voice to its deepest baritone.
“Jake, old chap, lovely to meet you. Any friend of Molly’s is a friend of mine.”
The hand-shaking ritual quickly became more of a pissing contest, as both of us tried our best to make the other wince. We squeezed each other’s hands mercilessly, but neither of us was willing to give the first squeal and pull his hand away. It was becoming quite comical actually. Here we were, two grown men trying to impress this poor little girl with their strength of character. In the end, I had to concede defeat and that was the fateful moment I looked up into Jake’s deep, soulful eyes.
Now, I’m not gay, let me make that quite clear from the very start. Nonetheless, I can honestly say, when I first looked into Jake’s eyes, I felt this deep, primal pull. His eyes were dark, brooding almost, and yet they seemed to welcome me in, to embrace me and to hold me tight. I think it’s probably fair to say I fell in love with Jake at that very second. I never knew I could love a man. I’d always thought that was only for gay people, but I did love Jake. I loved him very much and I knew our three lives would be intertwined forever. Well, until one of us died anyway... and there you go! Here I am now, dead!
So, now we’re back to this whole being dead thing. Like I said, I knew I was dead, some sort of spirit, I guess. I’d even gone to my own funeral and watched everyone mourn over me. Now how many people can say they not only attended their own funeral, but they watched it all unfold, eh? What did break my heart at the funeral though was the way Molly and Jake reacted to each other, almost as if they were blaming themselves or the other person for what had happened. That’s not the way it’s supposed to be. When something awful happens, you need to turn to and rely on those closest to you and that was Molly and Jake, but they seemed intent on not even talking. Damn! That made me so angry. I wanted to bash their heads together and remind them they only had each other, now that I was gone.
As I stared at the two of them, their heads bowed in sorrow, I wondered what was going through their minds. Did they really blame themselves for what happened? You know, we’d had an amazing run as friends. We were so much closer than mere friends usually are, almost like lovers really. Well, in spirit at least, if not in reality. I’d even thought about that possibility, from time to time, but no, it hadn’t happened yet!
Now one of us was gone why weren’t they leaning on each other for support? Their attitude worried me and it forced me to think about the horrible circumstances of my death. Was it really as straightforward as I’d initially thought? Yeah, I was gone now and yeah, technically, I guess it was sort of their fault, but really, they shouldn’t blame themselves. I knew if they did that, they would tear each other apart. I had to do something, but I had no idea what. I was just a spirit, or so I thought.
So, what had actually happened that fateful night?
Ever since Jake, Molly and I became that inseparable team, we had done some pretty outlandish things together. All three of us were adrenalin junkies and we’d tried numerous, high-risk, adventure sports together - mountain climbing, parachuting, white water rafting, bungee jumping, base jumping. You name it, we did it and we did it together - The Three Musketeers! I can still picture the look of sheer ecstasy on Molly’s face, that time we rafted the Colorado River. No sex could ever match the orgasm Molly had that day. The three of us in that tiny raft, tossed and rolled in the grade five rapids and loving every second of it. Jake and I hollering and whooping as we thundered down the river and Molly, eyes closed, head thrown back, hair blowing in the wind, with a wistful smile on her face as she clenched her legs tightly together. When we finally reached the calmer waters further down the river, she looked at the pair of us and sighed happily.
“Nothing beats this! Nothing beats not having sex with you two guys... hahaha.”
Yes, we truly, deeply, loved risk. We all loved the instant gratification we gained from it and we always wanted to push the envelope further and further, to see how far we could go. In hindsight, it was logical one or all of us would end up dead one day. What a bugger it had to be me, though!
It was Molly who came up with the latest mind-blowing idea to stir our adventurous juices. She’d read online about a new craze called Parkour, sometimes known as free-running. The idea was to run anywhere and everywhere, letting no obstacles or objects get in the way. The ultimate expression of free-running was jumping between buildings and yep, that’s exactly what we were doing that night, on top of a twenty-two storey apartment block - free-running.
Molly and Jake had been ahead of me. I had struggled to get over one of the obstacles, a large air conditioning air vent, curved at the top. It was only on my third attempt that I managed to scramble over the final hurdle before that ultimate jump, across and down slightly to the next building, a commercial property. Jake and Molly were already there waiting for me as I ran toward the gap, breathing heavily from my exertions. They were laughing uproariously, as we always do when w
e get this charged up, cheating death. I didn’t even contemplate the distance, I just knew if Molly and Jake had made it, and so could I.
As I launched myself over that yawning chasm, I felt the click in my ankle. Something was terribly wrong, and instinctively, I knew I wasn’t going to make it as my arms flailed trying to grasp the rail around the top of the roof next door. I managed to hook one arm over the railing and hung there precariously, twenty-two storeys above ground, swaying from side to side with my forward momentum. The crash against the building had winded me and I knew I couldn’t hold on for long, as I could already feel my arm beginning to buckle under my weight.
Jake was the first to react and grabbed my arm in his.
“Hang on buddy,” he screamed into the wind. “I’ll pull you up.”
But, I couldn’t hang on, I knew that. My strength had been sucked out of me, along with my wind, when I’d hit the building. Molly was just fractions of seconds behind Jake, reaching for me and grabbing onto my other wrist.
“Daniel,” Molly shouted, “just let go of the balcony and Jake and I can pull you up, but you have to let go first. Come on darling, please, trust us.”
Funnily enough, I knew it was over, even then. I knew I couldn’t hang on any longer and frankly, I felt ok about it. It had been a fun journey, but now it was over. The odd thing was I didn’t look into Molly’s face before I fell, I looked into Jake’s instead. Perhaps there’s something in that for a psychologist to analyse, anyway, that’s what I did.
I guess it was what I saw there that will haunt me forever. I wanted to tell him it was okay, that my time had come, but instead of the horror, shock and fear I’d expected to his eyes were cold, malevolent even and his smile was twisted, evil almost. He raised his eyebrows slightly as if to say, “Bye-bye chap,” and he actually let go of my arm... well, I think he did anyway. Simultaneously, I felt Molly’s fingers also uncoil from my wrist. My own grip on the railing was already gone, my fingers numb and dead.
As I began to cartwheel down the side of the building, I had one last chance to glance at my beautiful wife, Molly. She wasn’t looking at me, though, she was looking directly at Jake and was that a tiny smile creasing her lips?
I didn’t have too long to contemplate their actions, though, as I rapidly spiralled between the two buildings, before hitting the pavement with one almighty thud, the last noise I heard.
Now, that really had been some sort of adrenalin rush!
***
Chapter 5 – Jake
I hadn’t really experienced the loss of someone close before.
Lost! Now that’s a strange word. It kind of suggests that you can find them again, just look up the missing person’s section in the local rag. Yep! I know I left him somewhere!
What I mean is, nobody close to me has ever died. My mother and father are still alive, although I don’t go to see them as much as I should. I’m an only child and I can barely remember family or friends coming to visit. I grew up as a loner, comfortable with my own company. There were some strange goings on in that house and I’m sure my parents wanted a girl. Why didn’t they just try for another then? I don’t know. Anyway, I’m digressing here. This isn’t at all about my childhood, is it? Well, maybe it is! At this moment, I’m not sure about anything anymore.
I finally pulled myself together and clambered back to my feet, having fully exhausted my tears. I drove back to my apartment after my failed attempt to see Molly. It was only whilst driving the short journey home that I realised it wasn’t really her I wanted to see. There was someone else, who had been far more important in my life than Molly could ever be and believe me, she was important. I was glad that common sense had somehow prevailed and I’d refrained from knocking on her door. Because, by then, the realisation had kicked in, we’d buried the stupid bastard that morning.
When I say buried! That’s what was annoying me actually. I’d wanted Daniel buried, somewhere I could go to visit him and talk to him. Tell him what I had been up to, just to have somewhere to go and share things. We used to talk for ages about anything and everything and I was going to miss that so much. She had him cremated, without even asking me what I thought. If she had, I would have fought vehemently to have had him buried. Now she will probably have his ashes scattered, whilst she is carrying out one of her adrenalin rushes. He will be thrown into the seas or just blowing with the winds. He deserved better than that. I bet I’m not even asked to come. I bet she didn’t even want me at the funeral. She should remember that she didn’t own him, she was just his wife.
Adrenalin rush? That’s all it was with the three of us, one long, never-ending, adrenalin rush. And, just like a junkie who was coming down from his trip, already looking for the next one, that’s what we were like. My adrenalin rush was dead and buried now, sorry cremated, with Daniel. Now who was going to help kick that monkey off my back?
I’d hardly slept at all after getting back from Molly’s the night Daniel died. I did drift once and woke up in such a panic that for one moment I really didn’t know where I was. In the dream that had awakened me, I was the one falling off that building, my hand still reaching out trying to grab Daniel and Molly’s hands. In that split second when you wake up, in that world that you’re really not sure of, I’d really thought it was me that had fallen. Then reality dawned and I woke up in the real world, knowing I had to go through all those emotions again. Daniel was dead, and the circumstances would not allow Molly and me to comfort each other.
What the hell was all that about?
That same morning I just sat in my chair, thinking about the first time the three of us had met. I was a nervous young man being introduced to Molly as her sub-editor. I had never been responsible for the work of a woman before and I had heard so much about Molly, her high expectations and the standard of her work. Initially, I was surprised I was offered the role and I almost turned it down. I wanted to work with men, women just made me uncomfortable. I would become nervous and babble, or just revert back into my shell. Neither one was impressive. I wanted a man and almost told them so, that was until I saw her.
She was being led to me and as she was approaching my office, I could see her through the glass-paned walls. She looked every bit as impressive as I had been told and as she entered my office that was the first of the many adrenalin rushes I experienced with Molly. She headed straight for me with purpose, her hand held out.
“Oh, I’m so pleased to meet you, I’m so glad to be able to work for you,” she’d said. I knew she probably couldn’t even remember my name, but that was Molly, she had a way of making you feel distinctive. We chatted for over an hour until she had taken all my inhibitions away. She had such a canny way of making you feel special. I wonder if she felt something that day too, just a little of the connection and bond that would be established over the years. I didn’t, I was too much in awe of her to feel anything. It was as though I had been released from my world and taken into hers and it was a wonderful feeling. It took me less than that hour to fall in love with her. I didn’t realise at that time my life would change forever.
Now, at that time, life was good. I had never enjoyed work so much and I was always pleased with the quality of work Molly produced. I always seemed to be giving her praise. The truth was, she could do no wrong in my eyes. I really don’t think she realised how high a standard her work was. She made my job easy, which left plenty of time to chat. By God, we chatted, even flirted on occasions, but it was nothing more than harmless fun. At least, that’s what I thought at the time. Now, when I look back, I was never her boss. Maybe my salary reflected that I was senior to her, but she called all the shots. I regret not giving the others the same amount of time I gave Molly. If I had, maybe we would not have become so close.
I remember the first time I met Daniel, very well. I was in Molly’s office having the obligatory look down her blouse. I couldn’t help it. I remember the first time she caught me doing it, her eyes met mine and I could feel my face reddening.
She just smiled and her eyes, those wonderful, stormy eyes, told me she approved. I’m sure after that she started undoing more buttons just for me. I longed for the day when I looked down and there would be no bra… but, I’m digressing again... and lusting somewhat!
She left the office and I saw her greeting and kissing the man she very rarely talked about, well not to me anyway. For reasons I still can’t fathom, her reaction to him quite surprised me. That moment, she looked as if she hadn’t seen him for years as she flung her arms around him. Was I jealous? No, not really. Molly was so out of my league and I was content with just trying to get a flash of nipple.
She brought him into the office, reluctantly it had appeared, or, at least, the look on his face gave that impression. I stood as they approached, feeling like a little boy waiting to be scolded, rather than Molly’s superior. Molly introduced us and we shook hands. Shit he had a strong grip, but probably the only thing my father had instilled in me was, “You can tell the measure of a man by his handshake,” so I gripped harder and met his eyes. As our eyes locked, though, it was like some unknown entity had formed a bond between us. I knew he felt it too. Don’t ask me how – I just knew. Eyes can tell a lot, they can reach into a man’s soul and I knew I had just reached into his and he mine. I won that particular battle of the handshake, but between the three of us over the years, there was many a battle to be won and lost.
Tortured Minds Page 2
