Bring Me Back

by Taryn Plendl

  “Okay,” as he stands. “What do you want for dinner? I know it’s after 9:00 p.m., but we need to eat, and then you can go to sleep.” He says very matter of fact. Sleep. I can’t sleep, and I don’t know how to explain that to Ian. “Sandwiches?” He asks as he looks through the refrigerator. “That sounds perfect Ian, thank you.” I start trying to find excuses to tell him about why I can’t sleep. Before I can figure it out, Ian is setting two plates on the coffee table. Wow, that sandwich looks fabulous. I didn’t realize how hungry I was until just now. “Looks great!” I say as I pick it up. Taking a bite, I can’t help but close my eyes and let out a soft moan. When I open my eyes, Ian is looking at me with an inquisitive look on his face. I cover my mouth and mumble, “Sorry, I guess I’m really hungry. It tastes great.” He smiles and returns to his own sandwich.

  Things are surprisingly comfortable with Ian. We watch TV and chat about the different shows we like to watch, but more surprisingly is the fact at how comfortable the silence is. It’s nice that he doesn’t feel the need to fill any void with useless conversation. I don’t think I could handle that. When you are alone for 99.9% of the time, you get used to the silence.

  “Hey Ally, can I ask you something?” Ian says while turning to face me. Oh no, so much for silence. “Sure.” I say nervously. “Um, why do you run at night?” He clears his throat, “I mean, I have been running the same path during the day, and the trees are so thick that it must be pitch black at night.” I look down at my hands and breathe deeply before I look up to answer. “I don’t know how to explain it. I run at night because I can—I can allow my senses to take over and depend wholly on myself.” I shrug, knowing that my words explain absolutely nothing, but he nods at me and looks satisfied, so I relax.

  It is close to 1:00 a.m., and I need to make another stop at the bathroom. “Ian?” He looks over and doesn’t even need to ask, he just gets up and helps me to my feet. I groan at the pain in my stomach. It is so sore. We walk carefully to the bathroom and Ian releases my hand as soon as I reach out and grab the counter. He closes the door and gives me privacy to do my business. While I’m in there, I wash my face and brush my teeth, and when I open the door, Ian steps out of my bedroom. “I have your bed pulled back, it’s late, and you need your rest.” He raises his right eyebrow when I make no movement. “Come on,” He holds his hand out. I take it, but my mind is going a mile a minute. I can’t sleep!

  As we walk into my room, I take note of the stack of books and magazines on the bedside table. I will just have to keep myself awake with reading tonight. I can sleep during the day tomorrow, and Ian will think it is just because I’m recovering. He sits me gently on the side of the bed and hands me two pills and a glass of water. “The pain medication and your antibiotic.” He explains as I take them. “Do you want me to turn off the light?” He says, reaching for the switch. “No!” He looks startled by my sudden outburst, so I try again. “No thank you, I’m going to just read for a bit. I can turn out the lamp when I’m done.” He nods and starts to leave. Turning back at the doorway, he says, “Ally, I’ll be on the couch if you need anything.” Then he’s gone.

  ***

  It’s that smell again. I can’t place it, maybe metallic, but it is not pleasant. I hear it again—the crying. It’s the same nightmare every time. “Dad?” I whisper. In slow motion they both turn toward each other and then over their shoulders at me. Blood! It is everywhere! The faces of the two people I love more than life are almost unrecognizable. “Run Ally!” It sounds like a gurgling sound from my mom, but the best she can do with all of the blood. Run? I turn and run smack into the wall…wait, not a wall, but a man. I tilt my head up. He is smiling at me. The smile is pure evil. Oh God! “Welcome home.”

  Chapter 20

  ~Ian

  Shit! I’m up with the first scream—running toward the room. The small lamp is still on and I can see her struggling. “Ally!” I run to her. “Ally! Stop!” I am trying to get her to hold still, afraid she will hurt herself so soon after surgery. She is screaming, pushing the covers away frantically. She is sweating, my God, she is completely drenched. “Ally, please stop, please!” Pleading with her, I grab her and hold her, sitting on the bed, I hold her so tight against me.

  She’s not screaming anymore, but now she is making the most excruciating moaning sound. Her right hand finds its way to her abdomen and she moans. Without letting her go, I relax my grip a little so I don’t hurt her, and then she begins to tremble.

  Goodnight, my angel

  Now it's time to dream

  And dream how wonderful your life will be

  Someday your child may cry

  And if you sing this lullabye

  Then in your heart

  There will always be a part of me

  Someday we'll all be gone

  But lullabyes go on and on...

  They never die

  That's how you

  And I

  Will be

  She is singing. Her shaking is so tremendous that it has me shaking right along with her. I look at her and see that her eyes are closed so very tight, and it looks like she may have bitten her bottom lip. I rock her—pulling her into my lap, holding and rocking her. I smooth her wet hair away from her face, coming into contact with that same scar that I saw while she slept at the hospital. Soon she stops singing and begins to whimper, still holding her stomach. “Oh God Ally!” I can’t help it, I start to cry. “Oh God Ally, what happened to you? Who did this to you, baby?” I kiss her hair and continue to rock her until the shaking stops and we are both so tired that we collapse. Pulling her into my arms, we both fall asleep in her bed, with the light still on.

  ***

  I feel her move away, and I reach and pull her back, basking in the warmth of a woman, pressed against me. “Ian, that hurts.” Oh shit! I sit up so quickly that I am disoriented for a moment. “Ally! I’m so sorry, are you okay?” She is trying to sit up, but she can’t. I put my arm around the back of her and help her up gently. It doesn’t matter how small the moves are, she is hurting, and by the look on her face, it’s bad.

  “Ian? I need to use the bathroom, but I’m not sure I can walk right now.” She speaks so softly that I’m having trouble hearing her. “What did you say Ally?” She closes her eyes and her cheeks become slightly red. “I can’t walk, it hurts too much.” Before giving it a second thought, I lean down and scoop her up, carrying her across the room to the master bathroom. I set her next to the toilet and place her hand on my waist as I turn around. “Use me to balance Ally, I’ll stay turned around.” I can’t imagine how embarrassing this must be for her, so I try to make it as easy as possible, acting like this is something barely acquainted neighbors do all the time. When she is finished, I feel her hand back on my waist for a moment, and then she tells me she’s done. I help her the few steps to the sink where she washes her hands and brushes her teeth, and then she looks up into the mirror and our eyes lock. I nod, and she nods back—our unspoken communication.

  Gently lifting her, I carry her back into the living room and set her gently on the couch. “Give me a minute, and I’ll get us something to eat and get your pills.” I walk to the bathroom to take care of my own needs.

  ***

  With the coffee maker started, and toast in the toaster, I grab Ally’s medicine and a glass of water. Knowing the answer before I ask, “Do you want two of the pain pills?” She just nods. I shake out two and then one of the antibiotics and put them in her hand, giving her a moment to place them in her mouth before handing her the glass. After she swallows them, I place the water on the table and return to the kitchen. I butter our toast and pour two cups of coffee. “Ally? How do you take your coffee?” I ask before returning. “Black, please” She says as I gather our plates and mugs and carefully juggle them back to the couch. She takes a bite of the toast, and then sets it down. “Ian, I don’t know what to say.” I set my plate down and look at her. “About what?” I ask, not trying to pretend, but I j
ust want to make sure what she is referring to before I answer. “About what happened last night. I should have told you.” She looks at me and then quickly looks away. “Should have told me what Ally?” I say softly. She looks at me and her eyes show such sadness. “That I can’t sleep at night.” I wait for her to continue. “When I sleep at night, they come….the nightmares.” It makes more sense now, the reason why I hadn’t seen her for weeks when I first moved here, her running at night, her not wanting the lights off, both here and in the hospital. “Ally? Do you want to talk about it?” I ask, knowing she probably won’t, and I’m right. Shaking her head, “No, not right now.” I nod, “Okay, but when you’re ready, I’ll be here.” I say, and I mean it. “Thank you, Ian. For everything.” She says as she picks up her toast again.

  Chapter 21

  ~Ally

  I can’t believe how sore I am. If the pain from the surgery wasn’t enough, I had a full on breakdown after my nightmare that has every muscle in my body screaming.

  I am so confused. This man I hardly know has taken me on like it’s nothing. After witnessing only one of my nightmares, my own family shoved me off onto the first therapist and backed away, sure that I was too crazy to be helped, and this man had stepped into two of them and hadn’t left during, or after. I’m not sure why, but I am thankful either way. This morning I woke up in his arms, and I had never felt so safe. If my bladder hadn’t been screaming for relief, I could have laid there all day.

  Now we sit side by side on the couch, eating toast, drinking coffee and watching TV. “I need to run home and grab my computer and some work in a bit.” He said while standing to take our plates to the kitchen. “Ian, please don’t feel like you need to stay. You can just leave your number and I can call you if I need something.” I feel bad making him feel like he has to babysit me. “Ally?” He says, turning to face me, behind the kitchen counter. “Do you have a problem with me being here?” He asks so seriously. “What? No, of course not, I just….” “Okay then, discussion over, I’m staying for as long as you need me.” He interrupts me and ends the conversation before I can respond with anything else. After loading the dishes into the dishwasher, he grabs his keys and says he’ll be back in about a half an hour.

  ***

  This is crazy! I closed my eyes, trying to talk myself into standing and walking. As sore as I was when we came home last night, it paled in comparison with what I felt right now. I am always sore after a nightmare, but this is ridiculous. The uncontrollable shaking racks straight through all of my muscles, and although I am aware of bits and pieces of what is happening, I am not able to control it. Last night, I could hear Ian—feel his arms around me—rocking me, and then I could feel his tears against my cheek. What I would give to be able to cry. I groan as I finally pull myself up into a standing position, but before I can move, a sharp pain shoots up my right side. I gasp and almost fall back before I feel two hands steady me and then scoop me up. Slowly I look up and see a look on Ian’s face, which I’m sure I haven’t seen before.

  “What the hell Ally!” Oh crap! He’s angry. “I just….umm, I need the bathroom again.” It takes me a second to realize that small voice is my own. Ian takes a long breath and finally starts to move toward the bathroom. He sets me down by the counter and I suck in air as my feet hit the ground. Damn these sore muscles! “Put your arm on my waist, like before.” Ian walks in a little further until we are in front of the toilet, where he turns around again and waits. God this is humiliating! Before this morning, I had never peed in front of a man, and now I’ve done it twice in one day! I cringe at the thought of having to relieve myself in another way. There is NO way I’m doing that with an audience!

  I use Ian’s belt to pull myself up and drag my underwear and sweatpants up with my other hand. After I flush the toilet, he asks over his shoulder, “Okay?” “Okay.” I say as he turns around and helps me walk to the sink. I wash and dry my hands and once again meet his eyes in the mirror. He nods again, and I do the same and then I am scooped up into his arms and carried out. I fully expect him to take me back to the couch, but instead he turns right and walks into my bedroom. After he set me on the bed, he walked out to the living room and is just as quickly back with his laptop and a folder in tow.

  “I assume you sleep okay during the day?” He asks with such compassion. “Umm, yes.” I say as he pulls the un-made comforter down further so I can climb under it. “Okay Ally, in you go. You need to sleep.” I scoot down and he puts his hand behind my shoulders and helps me lay back. I watch him walk around the bed, kick off his shoes and lay down next to me.

  Chapter 22

  ~Ian

  Boy this woman can be stubborn! I was gone only for forty minutes and when I walk back in she is doubled over against the couch. I don’t know why it infuriated me so much, when she didn’t ask me to stay here—I’m the one who insisted on staying.

  Now I’m sitting here on her bed working while she is sleeping next to me. I could easily work from the other room, but I don’t want to leave her here, in this bedroom where the nightmares find her. She says they happen if she sleeps at night, but I can’t take that chance. I can’t watch her do that again.

  Her room is bright. The walls are a very warm crème color and her bed and furniture is a light oak. She has the same hardwood floors as I do, and has a huge plush crème colored rug at the foot of the bed. There are several beautiful art pieces around the room, mosaics that catch the light and reflect it back into the room. It is a very soothing room, at least for me.

  I hadn’t planned on stopping in at the office until Monday, so when my eyes start to droop when I’m only half way through the document I’m working on, I decide to save it and take a nap too. If I’m going to help Ally stay awake tonight, I’m going to need my rest.

  After setting my computer and papers on the nightstand, I climb under the comforter and roll to my side. Ally is lying on her left side facing me. Her hair is fanned around her face and her lips are slightly parted, and I lay there just watching her breathe for several minutes. She seems so peaceful right now, and I don’t want to disturb her, but I can’t help myself as I reach out and gently place her hair behind her ear. When she doesn’t move, I move my hand gently over her scar. “Oh Ally, who did this to you?” I whisper. I want to know more about this woman. She seems so strong at times and so completely broken at others.

  ***

  “Please don’t go! Please don’t leave me!”

  “Ian?” “Ian, wake up.” I don’t want to open my eyes, I want so badly to see Laney like she was just in my dream—healthy, happy but walking away? Why was she walking away from me? “Ian?” My eyes flutter open, and instead of seeing Laney, I see a very concerned Ally. Before I can stop it, the tears consume me again and I feel like my heart is breaking all over.

  I feel Ally shifting next to me, and then her hand gently covers mine. She doesn’t talk or ask questions, she just waits.

  “I’m sorry.” I whisper as I sneak a look at Ally. She is looking back at me with compassion and understanding, not the pity that I am so used to in situations like this. “Don’t be Ian. Never be sorry for feeling, its how we know we are still alive.” She is so right. “I’m a mess Ally. I lost someone, and my world came to a stop. I cry more now than I ever did as a child, it’s pathetic.” Shaking my head, I turn and look at the wall, trying to get myself together.

  “I would give anything to be able to cry. I want to cry so badly, but I can't get that first tear to fall. I think I’ve been holding it in for too long.” I turn to Ally and see that she is looking at the ceiling, deep in thought. I turn my hand over, still underneath hers, so I can hold it for a moment. “Ally, it hurts more to cry on the inside, than it does to cry on the outside.” She nods and looks over at me, and for reasons I can’t possibly explain, I laugh. I see her mouth turn up and she begins to laugh too. “We are a sad sight, aren’t we?” I ask Ally, trying to compose myself. This is the first time I think I have seen Ally smile,
much less laugh. It is a beautiful sound.

  “Ian?” she becomes serious for a moment. “Yes?” “Umm, I need the bathroom again.”

  Chapter 23

  ~Ally

  “I’d like to try to walk this time.” I say as Ian helps me stand. The pain is still quite bad, but I know that I need to keep moving if I am going to get better. “Okay, put your arm around my waist, and we’ll give it a try.” He says. I am able to make it slowly to the bathroom door, and when I look up at Ian, he is watching me closely. He raises his right eyebrow and I nod. He nods back and allows me to grab the counter top and maneuver myself toward the toilet. “Call if you need me Ally, I’m going to go put some coffee on, okay?” “Thanks Ian,” I say as I close the door.

  I’ve never met anyone like Ian. The man is obviously hurting, yet he still has enough to give—to be there for someone else. It amazes me that someone I hardly know can do this when my own friends and family didn’t know how.

  When I open the door, Ian is standing there waiting. “Ready?” He asks, walking toward me. I put my arm around his waist and we slowly walk out to the living room. I sit on the couch and Ian hands me my pills to take. “Hungry?” He asks. “What time is it?” I ask, looking out the window. “Almost 3:00 p.m.” He says as he brings me a cup of coffee. “Wow, we slept for quite awhile.” I say more to myself than him. “Mmm hmm.” He says as he rummages through the refrigerator.

  ***

  “So, I brought a couple movies from my house that I thought we could watch tonight.” I look at Ian as he takes another bite of his grilled cheese sandwich. “We?” I ask curiously. “Yes, we.” He says with a nod. I set my plate down on the coffee table and look at him. “Ian, you don’t need to do this.” I run my fingers through my hair, making a mental note to somehow get it washed today. “This is not new, Ian—I’ve been doing this by myself for over two years.” The look on his face is almost comical. “Two years, huh?” He says, taking another bite. I nod. “Well, now we try it together.” He nods back.