by Urban, Ami
We pulled into the driveway as if no time had passed at all. The front door was open, revealing nothing but a rectangular, dark hole.
Jack killed the engine. “B and I should probably have a look around before we settle.”
I nodded. “Agreed.”
He unbuckled his seat belt as he glanced in the rear-view mirror. “You ready, man?”
“Highway to the danger zone.”
Out of my periphery, I saw Jack roll his eyes. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
July 6 – Jack Reynolds
I knew doctors made good money, but I found myself wondering how Lisa could afford living in a two-story house on one income.
“‘Cause she make the big bucks!” Brendon’s voice came in uneven tones behind me as he tripped over the small walkway to the front door. He made a noise in the back of his throat while surveying the mud caked on the bottom of his Converse.
“Did I say that out loud or do you have The Shining?”
He looked up at me and grinned. “Maybe a bit o’ The Shinning and maybe a bit o’ clairvoyance.” He put on a mock Scottish accent. It was bad.
“Let’s go, MacRutherford.”
Just inside the door, the home was minimally furnished. I’m talking bare minimum. Sofa in the entryway, a coffee table and an ottoman. No pictures on the wall. No television. The air was stale and cold. Silence rushed like a river through my ears.
“Oh, man…” Brendon’s voice was grave. “They stole everything.”
I shook my head, gesturing toward the absence of indentations in the carpet. “I don’t think there was anything to steal.”
“Did she even live here?” Brendon stood in the entryway, dark shadows cascading down his face.
I shrugged, moving farther into the darkness. “Probably not. Why don’t you check upstairs?”
“You got it, boss.” His footsteps echoed away from me and up the stairs with a timed thump. I listened until the creak of the ceiling and the fading of his voice told me he’d moved into the back of the house. I did the same.
Rounding the corner to the living area, I saw a kitchen on my left and a den to my right. Straight in front was a sliding glass door to the backyard. Through the iron fence, I could see a large field spreading across to the road beyond.
“Damn.” I mumbled to myself in the dark. “Nice place.”
I flicked the light switch up and down for good measure. No electricity. I turned to my left, curious if looters had grabbed anything at all. To my nose’s horror, they hadn’t taken the food. When I opened the fridge, a blast of sour air hit me in the face. I pulled the collar of my t-shirt over my nose and mouth. The entire fridge was coated in a gray-green fuzz. It seemed to pulse with life. I slammed the door shut, almost vomiting from the pure scent.
A skittering behind me caused me to spin around. Outside, a light wind had picked up. Trash had gathered and was gliding across the back porch. A tornado of garbage danced around a bit before lifting off into parts unknown.
“Upstairs clear.”
I wheeled around, a hand over my heart. “Jesus, fuck, dude!” I managed to grasp the partition wall between the kitchen and living room.
Brendon tossed his head back and laughed at the ceiling. “I guess I should’ve started belting out The Police before sneaking up on you, huh?”
After catching my breath, I tossed a glance upward. “What, Roxanne?”
A twinkle in his eye lit up his face. “Nah. Every Breath You Take.”
Yeah, that would’ve made more sense. But, whatever. We had better things to do. I didn’t know about him, but exhaustion had sunk into every one of my muscles. I felt heavy. I needed sleep. Seeming to sense my change in demeanor, Brendon offered to get everyone out of the car. I agreed, rooting around in the cupboards for a glass.
When the others came in, I was sipping on my third helping of lukewarm tap water. Brendon headed straight for the sofa in the den and plopped down. Lexi, Rex and Cyrus decided to head upstairs – probably to choose rooms. I warned the two teenagers that they’d be sleeping separately before they went. Lisa approached me at the sink.
“Will you help me get the generator running?” She placed a hand on my chest as I set my glass down.
“You have a generator?”
She nodded. “I had it put in when the first cases of rabies had been reported. It’s hidden out back.”
Color me impressed. She was a smart cookie. And I’m talking street smarts. Not only had she thought of power outages ahead of time, but she even anticipated looters stealing it.
I bobbed my head up and down as she went to a drawer near the edge of the sink. She pulled it out. Something rattled. She frowned while tilting the drawer downward. “It’s still here.”
Confused, I stepped beside her and looked down. It looked like the drawer had been picked clean of everything except a jar of oregano. Well, a jar of oregano and the skeletal remains of a single finger. Index, I’d wager.
But, wait! Hadn’t she said…? “It’s still here?” I looked at her. “You mean the oregano or the finger? Because honestly…”
She met my gaze.
“I wouldn’t be surprised by either.”
To my astonishment, she smiled. “I can’t cook, remember?”
“Oh, I remember,” I said, looking back at the contents of the drawer. “But everybody knows you can’t season human flesh with oregano.” I squinted my eyes, causing the bridge of my nose to wrinkle. “Unless it belonged to an Italian guy.” We looked at each other again. “Did it?”
“No.”
I nodded, pushing my thoughts far away. “Okay, okay. Well, that answers my first question. So, my second question is…” I paused, trying to reach for the right words. But all I came up with was, “What?”
When I looked back at my wife, her fingertips were pressed against her lips. For what reason, I didn’t know in that moment. But it wasn’t humor. She dropped her hand to her chest before speaking.
“Chase.”
The silence stretched out. I scratched my temple. “Chase what? Chase who? What are we chasing?”
“No.” She shook her head, then tucked a strand of hair behind one ear. “It’s Chase’s finger.”
I rubbed my chin with the palm of my hand. “You mean the kid’s dad, Chase?”
She nodded. I swallowed.
“Did…” I put my hands in the air, gesturing at nothing. “Did you…? Or did he…?” I dropped my arms to my sides. “Throw me a bone here. What happened?”
For a moment, she said nothing. Her gaze drifted from the left, up to the ceiling, then back to her right. “He became infected and attacked me.”
I should’ve known. “Has anyone ever told you that getting a story out of you is like pulling teeth?”
A hint of a smile twinkled behind her eyes. “Am I a dentist now?”
“Oh, no you don’t.” I wagged a finger at her. “You can’t joke your way out of this one.”
“But you always do.”
Trying in vain to hide my smile, I looked back down at the shiny bones in the drawer. “Did you… Did you slam it in there so hard it came off?”
She bent forward and began using her good hand to feel around inside the drawer. With every maneuver, the finger bones clinked into the oregano jar.
“Yes.”
It was almost an afterthought. But Goddamn – sometimes her seriousness was prime-time TV funny. Despite the morbidity of the situation, I laughed. She smiled, then brought her hand out of the drawer. In it was a silver key.
“Let’s go.”
I glanced at Brendon. He was sound asleep on the sofa, snoring softly. I hooked my thumb over my shoulder. “We can leave him here. B’s catching some Z’s.” Then, “That was stupid even for me.”
Lisa touched my cheek, then stole a quick peck from my lips.
“You stop that.” I scolded her while waggling a finger.
“No.”
To me, it was weird that a central California house h
ad a cellar. California had earthquakes and floods. Not tornadoes and hurricanes. But Lisa had put in a whole new room. We rounded the side of the house and stopped in front of an inconspicuous garden.
She began clearing dirt away until a gleaming silver handle jutted out of the ground. After brushing away a keyhole then blowing on it, she unlocked the door and stood to open it. I helped by grabbing the other handle and pulling at the same time. The doors came open easily. Beyond them, a staircase lead into a dark passage.
I went in first. Yeah, yeah, I know. Ladies first. But in case someone had found the room and gotten down there somehow, I wasn’t going to let my wife walk right into a squatter’s den.
The room was small. About 15 feet by 15 feet. The generator was a large, red machine set up in one corner. Three one-gallon gas containers sat near it on a shelf. The other walls were lined with canned goods and non-perishables. My gaze landed on a case of unopened bottled water.
“We’ll bring that up with us,” she said as if reading my mind. I nodded, grabbing one container of gas. I filled up the generator, then looked for the ignition.
“Wait…” My hand hovered over it. Lisa stepped next to me. “Where does this thing vent?”
“On the side of the house,” she said. “To a layman, it’d look like a dryer vent.”
“Wow.” I pressed the button. The machine roared to life, vibrating the walls around it. The naked bulb above us faded into existence, bathing us in a yellow glow. “You think of everything, don’t you?”
I grabbed the case of water and we ascended the stairs together. “Yes.”
“So… Why didn’t you just stay here?”
She glanced at me. “Why didn’t you stay were you were?”
“‘Cause there was a dead guy in the living room.”
“There’s a severed finger in my drawer.”
I laughed as we opened the sliding glass door. Both Lexi and Cyrus looked up at us. They’d found some playing cards and were having a game of war on the living room carpet. Brendon was still fast asleep. I hefted the water onto the kitchen counter.
“Why don’t you hop in the shower and I’ll meet you up there. I think it’s a good idea to get some rest.” I patted my wife on her backside.
“Agreed,” she said, then tossed me a glance before heading upstairs. “I’ll check on Rex.”
“He’s in his room.” Lexi didn’t look up from the game.
I gave myself an internal nod as I approached the couch where Brendon was lying. Coming within inches of his ear, I whispered, “Your album when quadruple diamond, B.”
Without opening his eyes, he mumbled something back. “That’s not a thing.”
“Triple platinum?”
“Now we’re talking.” He sat up, pushing a hand through his mop of hair. “I’d better have eight radio hits, or I quit.”
I chuckled. “Ok, here’s the deal. Lexi, you can stay in Rex’s room and Cyrus, you’re bunking with Brendon.”
“Oh, yes! I love boys!”
I snapped my neck to the left, not sure if I’d heard him correctly. “What?”
His eyed widened. “No! I meant I love sleeping with boys!”
Silence.
“No! Wait! I meant I love boys as roommates! Oh, my God…” He groaned, putting his head in his hands.
“Oh-kay.” I drew out the word while standing. “Well, as long as you don’t mind sleeping in the same room as MJ over here…”
Cyrus stole a nervous glance at Brendon. “Um…”
“Don’t worry, kid.” I stopped to place a hand on top of his head. “He probably won’t bite too hard.”
Lexi rolled her eyes. “You should trust me.”
“Oh, I do.” I turned to her. “I don’t trust hormones.”
She sighed. “Fine. You don’t have to have a corollary.”
“Coronary.” Brendon corrected her from the sofa. She turned to look at him.
“What?”
He grinned. “Nothing. She’s right, Jack. You shouldn’t have a corollary.”
“I’ll remember that.” After one more reminder to behave, I left them to find my wife.
From the desk of Dr. Lisa Reynolds – July 6
I almost didn’t hear the bedroom door open. Hot water cascaded down my body, relieving and washing away much of the stress of the last two years. Tiny droplets pittered against the shower door. Another tapping came after them, slightly more forceful. Wiping shampoo from my eyes, I turned to see Jack waving at me from the other side. He mouthed something.
I opened the door, leaning out to see him better. “I’m sorry?”
He grinned while saying, “I was asking if you could hear me. Soundproof shower, huh?”
I felt my eyebrow raise. In my mind, I weighed out the probability of what he’d said being a joke or serious. He wasn’t dumb, so it must’ve been a joke. So, I smiled.
“Perhaps if you joined me I could hear you better.” I left the door ajar as I stepped back under the water. While I didn’t see it happen, he must’ve undressed rather quickly because he was beside me in seconds.
Between our playful toying with each other’s hair and deep, intermittent kissing, I tried to put my hand between Jack’s thighs multiple times, but he always shooed me away. I didn’t understand, so I asked.
“Hey,” he said, brushing a wet lock of hair from my eyes. “I only met up for kisses, lady.”
I weighed the probability again. But this time, I came up blank. I had no idea what he was talking about. And when I voiced as much, he chuckled while patting my head. “I just wanna spend time with you before we hop on the sex train.”
I gave him a scrutinizing look. “It’s a train now?”
“I mean…” He shrugged. “It was for Beverly Marsh.”
Humorous. I enjoyed it. Quite apt.
He sighed. “I worry about her.”
“A lot?” I asked, trying to hide a smile.
But he just nodded gravely. “I worry about her a lot.”
“Let’s worry about us for a change.” I made sure to bat my eyelashes playfully, hoping he’d read my mind.
“What do you suggest?”
My hint went right over his head. Confusion filtered through my mind for a split second. But then, why couldn’t I start it?
I pressed my body into his, my fingers sliding up his forearms toward his shoulders. “I want you inside me, Jack.”
His eyes grew two sizes bigger. “Jesus… What…?”
The surprise in his voice caused me to lean back. “What is it? Would you like something else?”
Without warning, he snatched my wrists. “Fuck no. I liked that. But where did it come from?”
I felt my brow furrow. “You.”
“Me?”
My arousal had faded just a bit. I was growing frustrated. “Yes, Jack. Do you not recall our pillow talk?”
For a moment, he just looked at me as though I were a stranger to him. I supposed it made sense. He had just taken his second dose of Oxycontin that night.
But then, his expression changed in a snap. There was no merging of the features. They just went straight to horrified. “Fuck.” The word was breathy, almost whispered. “That…” He paused to swallow. “That wasn’t me.”
The question I wanted to ask wouldn’t articulate itself. Or rather, I wouldn’t allow it. Instead, I held my tongue and let him continue.
His face hadn’t changed. It was as though he were looking through me. His cheeks flushed slightly. “Oh, fuck that was… That night of the…”
“Jack.” I was growing more and more impatient while I should’ve been understanding to his internal struggle.
“And he was…” His gaze focused on me again and something ribboned through him. “You liked him better than me…”
A sigh escaped me as I shut my eyes. The hot water was fading, so I reached back to turn it off. “Jack, I think it’s time we talk about what was happening inside your head during your addiction.”
He w
inced at the final word of my sentence. “Okay.” His gaze had drifted downward, away from me. And his whole body seemed to have deflated.
When we’d dried off, I took his hand and lead him into the master bedroom. Most of the bedding had been stripped, but thankfully there were some extra linens lying about. He helped me spread out the new sheets.
I sat on the bed, remembering the way it felt. Exhaustion tore through my body along with a pang of familiar comfort. My own bed. I could sleep in it again. How long had it been?
I tucked my legs under me as I brushed the damp hair from my face. Then, I patted the comforter next to me, urging my husband to join me. Still not looking directly at me, he sat, inches away. It might as well have been miles.
“Jack.” I put my hand on his bicep. It twitched beneath my touch. “Talk to me.”
“That was what Silas would say was the secret to his success with women.”
I didn’t understand. “I’m sorry?”
“Pillow talk. I swear he could’ve trademarked it. Had it not been something he stole from Bruce Campbell.”
“Oh.” My back straightened as my synapses lit up. “Army of Darkness.”
Surprise flooded through him. A chuckle wound its way out of his throat. He finally turned to face me, his expression an unreadable mess. “That’s right.”
“Continue.”
There it was – that awkward gaze. He turned away again. “That was his fucking thing. Lisa, I…don’t remember that night.”
Ah. We were getting somewhere. “That’s very interesting.”
“That’s not what I’d call it.”
“No.” I placed my hand on his arm again. “It’s fascinating. I’ve never known opiates to do that.”
“Because it wasn’t the opiates.” The gruffness of his tone caused my body to freeze in place. “It was him.”
“Jack.”
He buried his face his in hands before I could do anything. A hoarse sob escaped him as his shoulders shook. “I knew he’d come back. I knew he was right when he told me I was crazy.”
“Oh, Jack.” I wrapped my arms around him, feeling the fine droplets of his tears dot my skin. My cast brushed against his chest. “It’s alright.”
