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One

Page 14

by J. A. Laraque


  “You tell me.”

  The feeling of letting go and just enjoying the moment was indescribable. Racing down State Street watching the buildings fly by with Ana screaming for more felt so right. It no longer mattered where we were, in that moment we were having fun and that was all that mattered.

  “Go Timothy, go!” She screamed.

  I reached the end of the clearing. I spun the car around and screamed out as I gunned the engine. There was a connection I felt with Ana, one I had never felt with Christine. I barely knew her and yet I felt comfortable being around her. Maybe it was because of our predicament, maybe not. There was no reason to worry at that moment. I deserved to be happy.

  I slammed on the breaks bringing the car to a screeching halt. My heart was racing, but it was pleasure that caused it and it felt exhilarating. It was then I realized she was holding onto my arm. Ana smiled looking into my eyes pleased with what she saw. She stared ahead and placed her hands on her lap.

  “I needed that Timothy, more than you know. You needed it too right?”

  “Yeah, I did.”

  It was therapy and it worked. Not only that but I still kept control, enough to remember where we were and what had happened. Nothing had changed on the outside, but on the inside something was happening. It was a new way to obtain clarity that I had never explored.

  “There was something else I wanted to do but I was scared. I think I did all this to prepare myself for what was to come. Calm before the storm or in my case a small storm before a larger one. Will you come with me, I just need to see.”

  “Of course, we’ll stick together until…well, we’ll stick together.”

  Ana leaned over and hugged me. Whether it was for my benefit or hers did not matter. It felt good to feel the warmth of someone again. I exited the car, Ana walked to the front of the vehicle and sat on the hood. I followed standing next to her as she pointed toward a large building in the distance.

  “I want to go there, Timothy. There’s something I want to see.”

  Ana lead me toward a red Ducati motorcycle parked on the side of the road. I had to smile again to see that like me she also rode. It did not matter if her choice of a bike was out necessity or if it was hers, it was another common link, something else we had in common.

  “I don’t have an extra helmet. Should we go back for yours?” She asked.

  “Normally I would never ride without one, but in this case I’ll make an exception.”

  She climbed on and I sat behind her. Ana grabbed my hands; she put my arms around her waist then started the engine. The warmth of her body was comforting, even in the short amount of time alone I had forgotten how nice the feel of human contact could be.

  We headed south deeper into downtown Chicago. My focus was mainly on Ana and thinking about what could have caused her to be trapped here with me. I did not take notice of where we were headed until we arrived. She stopped the motorcycle; I once again looked toward the sky, this time with good reason.

  “The Sears Tower, this is what you wanted to see?” I asked.

  “I wanted a different viewpoint.”

  Together we entered the lobby of the building; I was relieved to find it still had power. The thought of walking up over one hundred flights of stairs was discomforting to say the least. Ana pressed the call button for the observation deck elevator, the doors opened immediately and we both stepped inside.

  “Will you face the door with me?” She asked.

  “Uh…sure.”

  The elevator rocketed toward the observation deck. She did not want to look out the window of the elevator; the truth was I did not want to look upon Chicago from the sky again. We reached the deck floor; I looked out onto the empty room. It was clear that there were people up here as well; the floor was littered with various personal objects. Standing there surrounded by windows I felt compelled to look out, it was a morbid curiosity. I walked up to one of the large glass windows. I saw from the corner of my eye that Ana had not followed me. She stood just in front of the elevator door.

  “It’s everywhere isn’t it?” She said her voice trembling.”

  Slowly she walked up behind me and grabbed my hand. Her grip was strong, she was clearly frightened, I understood why. From high above the skyline the reality of the world we were left with was horrific. Plumes of smoke billowed out from hundreds of buildings in all directions. There were several aircraft of various types that had crashed into buildings or the ground. Thousands of cars sat still with no sign of life on any kind from the ground to the heavens. It was a silent Armageddon.

  “I tried calling everyone I knew, out of state, even out of the country. When I couldn’t reach anyone I figured they were all gone. Even knowing that I hoped whatever happened was localized, centered on me.”

  Everything came rushing back, the questions as to why and how this was happening. Something came with the questions, it was anger. My mind began to blame Ana for what was happening, if she was the cause then she was to blame, if she was just a part of my mind then I was blaming myself. Her touch that was warm and comforting a moment ago turned cold and constricting. I pulled my hand from her grip and backed away from her.

  “Who are you, why are you trapped here? What have you done to deserve this?!”

  In an instant I had grown to hate her. She was still frightened but now of me. She shook her head, tears began to fall from her eyes, but I felt no pity. Her lack of answers only enraged me. I grabbed her by the shoulders and slammed her against the glass pinning her there.

  “Answer me!” I yelled.

  “I’m… I’m nobody. I don’t know why I’m here, or why I’m being punished, do you?”

  Her question sapped the anger from me. I was being irrational. My pain, my torture, my guilt, I was putting it all onto her then attacking it. There was still the possibility that everything was centered on me, that I pulled her into this world. I released her and walked away upset at myself. My emotions and thoughts were raging against each other, I had to regain control.

  “Can all of this…can it be just for us?” I asked.

  I turned back and looked at her, for a moment I wanted to tell her everything, about my father, my family, Christine. She looked at me as if she could feel my conflict; even as she wiped the tears from her eyes she was trying to soothe my pain.

  “It has to be…what else is there, what reason.” She said.

  “No, it doesn’t make sense. Why do all this just for us? What reason would there be? What lesson are we to learn from this? What of our friends and families, are they being punished as well?”

  There was something she wanted to say her eyes told me so. My thought debate continued out in the open, I hoped that maybe she would find a flaw that I did not see. Any ounce of happiness I had felt was gone stripped from me, a fast fading memory.

  “When someone is missing the loss is felt from many different sides. How did you feel when you woke up and found your family and friends gone? Don’t you think they felt the same way? Don’t you think they are feeling it right now? Are they to suffer for whatever sins some nameless being thinks we have committed? Are we being judged or have we already been found guilty and sentenced? Who is doing this to us, God?!”

  “I…I don’t know…” She said softly.

  I wanted to lay all the pieces out regardless of what picture it may show of me to Ana. If she was real then she had the right to know at least some of it. There had to be something she was keeping from me whether she knew it or not and it was that piece of information that I needed to dig up. To do that I would have to tell her something, anything to get her to open up to me to reveal who she really is.

  “It’s just thoughts, theories in my mind that plagued me from the start of this. When I awoke I didn’t know what had happened until I left my home. Even with what I saw it just didn’t register. It was an impossibility that I could not accept. Then I began to find information that led me to believe that there was something about my family that I had t
o discover. I believed it was possible that my mind was punishing me for wanting to withdraw from the people closest to me. That belief was only possible because it was only I that was suffering. A punishment for me was acceptable, but then I find you. Now everything has changed and I have no other path to follow besides you. If there is any reason you feel you might be here no matter how deep down it is, no matter how crazy it might sound. I need to know it, please.”

  “Timothy…I don’t want to be here anymore. Please, can you take me home?”

  I stood there looking at her. There was something there and I was close to finding it. She retreated at the last moment to spare herself from revealing it. I had to earn her trust to find the truth, but it was her resistance to answer that made me distrust her even more. There was also the feeling inside me that was still there, that I knew her from somewhere. Regardless there was nothing to do but honor her wishes and take her home. I assume there would be answers there and one way or another I was determined to find them.

  Two of a kind

  The fear one can feel when locked in a nightmare can be powerful. It can start before you close your eyes and last long after you have awakened. There was a time I thought the fear that I found myself gripped in was the worst feeling one could deal with. Toward the end of my daily nightmares I found it was not fear that was the hardest emotion to deal with, but love.

  With every other experience within a dream or a nightmare that can follow you into the waking word it was my belief that love was the most dangerous. To find someone within your dreams that you connect with and build a bond can give you power and hope. Since time is unrestricted within a dreamscape one can slowly build up a relationship and mature it into love. The nightmare can begin before you awake. Losing the one you came to love within a dream can be devastating, however, once you wake while a slight pain lingers it can soon diminish and be forgotten.

  If that love lives and you escape into the real world what you will feel can be equated to a death in the family. A love that had no physical body does not render it insignificant. The feeling is there, the emotions, the memories are real. A loss of that kind will not fade away easily. It will remain and will leave you hollow. Just as when you lose someone in reality it leaves you empty and it is something not easily replaced.

  There were no words spoken as she drove us to a location I did not know. The silence of the city became noticeable again, my arms around her and yet I could feel her pulling away from me. I had to repair my mistakes, fix my errors. To turn Ana against me or cause her to not trust me anymore could seriously hamper my attempts to understand her place in this world. I believed the best thing to do was play off of her, if when we arrived at her home she wished to punish me by not talking then I would accept it. As much as I hated to admit it I needed her and there was time to regain anything I had lost with my words and actions.

  Focused on my thoughts, I did not notice we had come to a stop. I recognized the building in front of me in an instant. I climbed from the bike and my eyes scanned over the limos and luxury cars parked out front. Ana removed her helmet and smiled dropping it to the floor. There was no way this building was her home it would be impossible.

  “The Drake Hotel…?” I asked her in amazement. “This can’t be where you live.”

  “It’s my home now. That’s all that’s important.” She answered.

  With a chuckle, she strolled through the golden revolving door into the lobby. Her demeanor had changed. It was if arriving at the hotel had relieved the pain she showed me while on the observation deck. I quickly followed her into the lobby, for a moment I was captivated by the hotels beauty from the crimson carpet to the crystal chandeliers hanging from above. It was then that I thought about the people from my building and many of the members of my church and it was my demeanor that changed.

  “Why did you choose this place?” I asked her. “Have you stayed here before or just always wished you could?”

  “I didn’t want to go back home after I realized everyone was gone so I came here and made this my home.”

  She did not answer my second question and continued on into a large lounge type room. My attention was focused more on probing Ana for answers than exploring the hotel. She sat down behind a large maple brown baby grand piano. She ran her hands across the ivory keys then closed her eyes as if recalling a memory.

  “Do you play?” I asked her.

  “Not anymore, I used to but not by my choice. My father forced me into it and made me perform for his guests. They said I was great at it, but when you are forced into something it’s hard to retain a love for it.”

  I was finally getting somewhere. With Ana speaking about her family and her past I had an open door to find out more about her and why she was here. I knew the road I was traveling down could force me to reveal more about my past to her, but if it could lead me to some answers, any answers, then it would be worth it. Ana quickly stood from the piano and looked at me.

  “Listen, I know you have questions, Timothy. I just needed to get out of there. You want to talk and that’s fine. I just need to eat something. Come on, I cleared out a place where we can have dinner.”

  The sign outside the door read Drake Bros. Restaurant. As I walked inside the room, I found the area was immaculately cleaned. She had cleared every table. There were no items on the floor, no smell of rotting food. Ana immediately ran over to the large windows toward the back of the room.

  “This is the Drake Bros. This place has great steaks, service, and best of all it overlooks, Lake Michigan. However, since it’s just us you’ll have to be the great service tonight. The kitchen is back there. I had a bunch of stuff defrosting to eat tonight. So you cook and I will prepare our table.”

  “Alright, I can do that and then we will talk.”

  As I walked into the kitchen and began preparing the meal I started to wonder what she would tell me, how many questions would she accept and would there be some that she would not answer. I had spent most of my time thinking about myself and my family ever since this started. While I used my time trying to find an explanation Ana had seemed to accept this place. There was no way I could abandon my search. How long could the city, the world keep going without anyone to run it. While the fires would eventually burn themselves out the question was what would be left after that? What would we do, travel from place to place living out our lives? Could that have been what I truly wanted all along, to be away from people, to just travel with someone who understood me? Is it possible that I had mistaken this place as a punishment when it was really a reward?

  “You’ve been in there an hour!” Ana called out. “I can smell the food from in here. Do you plan to bring it out anytime soon?”

  “I’ve just finished. I’m coming out.” I answered back.

  Nothing more than small talk occurred during the meal. My mind was preoccupied with making sure to phrase my pending questions correctly. If I went too far I could lose her, but as much as I wanted to believe those were my only concerns they were not. A connection was established between us since we had met. Even with my harsh questions to her there was something more than just the need to hear her answers. She was remarkably beautiful and just sitting with her made me happy. The conflict of feelings between what I wanted to know about her and how I felt told me the undeniable truth. I was falling in love with her.

  “You’ve kept your end of the bargain. I’ll answer anything you ask the best that I can.”

  “I just want to know why you believe you are here.”

  I could see in her eyes she was searching for what to say. It was not that she was crafting a lie, but more that she was deciding how to tell me the truth. There was no way I could figure out if she was going to tell me everything or ration it out bit by bit. Another possibility would be that she would not answer and instead do something else I had anticipated.

  “First you tell me why you believe you are here. I promise I will answer, but I just want to know.”

&nbs
p; “I don’t have a clear answer, just theories and unanswered questions. The night before everything started my family questioned me for not wanting to be more social. They believed I was withdrawing from my family and friends, cutting myself off from human contact because of what happened to my father.”

  I learned that the best way to get information from some was to give information. While it was true that I did not want to talk about all the thoughts I have had since everything began it was clear she would not tell me her story unless she felt she had someone she could relate with. If my story had any connection points with hers she would consider us two of a kind and would be more willing to open up to me. I knew how to give her the story without revealing the ending. In this case it was easy. I did not know the ending.

  “Your father, what happened to him?”

  “He was killed in a car accident about a year ago. It was a drunk driver. He hit him on the way home. He survived the initial crash, but died later that night at the hospital.”

  Never had I used the death of my father as a means to get anything. After the way many of our so-called extended family and friends treaded us I had no wish to even tell anyone. I hated pity and having to hear people I had just met tell me they are sorry for my loss. I was prepared for her response; it would be automatic and predictable.

  “I’m sorry, Timothy.”

  I pushed forward and gave her my story.

  “They believed that because of his death I had changed and perhaps it's true to some extent. They just didn’t understand that I was like this long before he died. It's just that at that time life was too good for them to notice. I guess that's how it is. Sadness can hide within good times. I told them not to worry about me. I still had friends and a life. I didn't think much had changed. It felt to me as if they were projecting their own feelings onto me. It's not like they haven't changed themselves.

 

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