Escape

by Francine Pascal

  “We’re good to go.” He nodded firmly. “Without the traffic, I can get us back home in an hour.”

  Gaia dropped her head for a moment. She gave thanks to the Fates for this one bit of good fortune they’d been kind enough to grant her on an otherwise killer day. Literally.

  “Wake Dmitri,” she said. “We’re going home. Right now.”

  strange psychedelic hell

  A dark rain cloud in her brain had blocked out the sun.

  God-Awful Dizziness

  HOW THE HELL DID ALCOHOLICS DO it? Were they completely insane? Ed couldn’t fathom feeling this ridiculously messed up and disoriented on a nightly basis. That would be like consigning oneself to some kind of strange psychedelic hell every single night and then waking up the next morning and doing it all over again.

  Was it the next morning yet? Ed couldn’t even find a clock amid the crowd that jammed Tatiana’s apartment. He couldn’t find anything. It was just an ugly whirlwind of disgustingly beautiful faces and bare midriffs and muscular arms. Bad pop music was blaring from the stereo, and then there were the screams. The constant screams. What was it with drunken girls and screaming? Why did drunken girls think that all emotions needed to be expressed with the high-pitched screech of a brutal murder?

  “Shhh,” he found himself mumbling, basically to himself. “Quiet down, now.”

  He stumbled over to the kitchen area, cutting through a crowd of what seemed like thousands, and ripped open the fridge. Somehow, in spite of his god-awful dizziness, and his increasing nausea, and the buzzing in his ears from all the whooping and screaming, and the general sense that the world was soon to explode into a billion pieces. . . Ed had decided to have another beer. Because why the hell not? Because did it really matter, anyway? He’d probably never drink another drink for the rest of his natural-born life, but tonight. . . tonight required a numbness the likes of which he had not encountered since losing feeling in his legs.

  Now there was even more to forget than there had been only hours ago. Not only did he need to forget about Gaia—forget that their relationship was melting like a nuclear accident and forget that she was out “there” somewhere for some indeterminate period of time, something between ten hours and ten years. But now he also needed to forget about Tatiana. He needed to forget about that stupid almost kiss. He needed to drown it out until its totally trivial, inconsequential nature revealed itself permanently. Until his brain had successfully placed it in the “total and complete nothing” category where it absolutely belonged.

  But one thing was making that very difficult. How could he drown out that stupid drunken moment with Tatiana if Tatiana wouldn’t stop following him around?

  “I just wanted to apologize again,” she called into his ear from behind. She had developed this unfortunate habit of sneaking up on him. He nearly banged his head on the inside of the fridge as he searched for a decent beer.

  He grabbed a Sam Adams and slammed the door closed, pressing his back up against the fridge to keep his distance. “Don’t” he said in a clipped tone, flashing his best approximation of a smile, given that he could barely feel his lips. “Don’t apologize anymore. Because it’s nothing.”

  “Okay, but. . . are we cool?” She slurred her words slightly as she tilted her head back and swigged from her own beer. Ed couldn’t even fathom the fact that she was actually ahead of him in drinks. If he’d had as much booze as Tatiana had imbibed tonight, he would already have been passed out somewhere beneath the screaming midriff girls and the hooting biceps guys.

  “Sure, we’re cool,” he replied, wishing he could just disappear into the crowd and not have her find him for a few hours. “We’re totally cool. I just—”

  “Hold on,” Tatiana said, holding her finger up in his face and looking at her pager.

  “Do you always carry around your pager at parties?” Ed laughed.

  “I’m waiting for news from my mother,” she said, reading her new message.

  “About Gaia’s dad?” he asked.

  She looked back up at Ed, registering mild surprise. “Right,” she said.

  “So she’s not really at a UN function, is she?”

  Tatiana rolled her eyes as if that was the most naive thing she’d ever heard anyone say. Ed took her point in stride.

  “Well. . .? Any news?”

  Tatiana dropped her head back down to her pager and blew out a long, frustrated sigh. “No,” she complained. “Nothing yet.”

  The beer suddenly fell from Tatiana’s hand and spilled all over the kitchen floor.

  “Oh, no,” she moaned, slapping her hands to her face. The crowd quickly made way for the spilled beer. Nothing got those girls moving like the threat of beer-stained shoes.

  “It’s okay,” Ed said, grabbing a few paper napkins from the counter and dropping down to the floor. “No big deal.”

  “I know where there are more paper towels,” she said. “Wait here, okay? I’ll be right back.”

  “We don’t really need. . .” Ed tried to stop her, but there was no point. Tatiana was already off on her hypercommitted quest for paper towels.

  Caveman-like Moos

  GAIA COULD BARELY BELIEVE IT, but her eyes hadn’t deceived her. The slim green signs overhead were real, lit up by the amber hue of a New York City streetlight.

  Seventy-second Street and Madison Avenue.

  They turned the corner and slowed down, pulling closer and closer. . . .

  The limestone facade was real. And so was the uniformed doorman behind the latticed windows of the front door.

  Home. Gaia was finally home. After all the attempted murders and bizarre suspicions and romantic confusion. After thinking it might never really happen, here she was, pulling up slowly to her front door. Sam had done it. With a little help from the perverted desk clerk of the S-Stay Motel, he had finally gotten them home.

  The car came to a halt in front of her door, and then Sam put on the brake and flipped off the ignition. Gaia and he both let out almost inaudible sighs and slid down slightly in their seats, leaving no sound in the car but the steady wheeze of Dmitri’s snoring in the backseat.

  In fact, Dmitri’s snoring had really been the only sound in the car for the rest of the ride home. Sam had perhaps been too freaked out by the sight of that bloody knife to utter another word to Gaia. And she had been too freaked out by her own sudden suspicions to make any further conversation. Or perhaps it was just the deeply uncomfortable aftermath of their moment in bed that had left them speechless. Most likely it was a toxic combination of all the strange revelations of this day.

  But one thing was for sure: Making it back home hadn’t done a thing to relieve the awkward tension in the car.

  “We did it,” Gaia said, realizing how idiotic she sounded.

  “We did,” Sam agreed, giving way to another long silence.

  And then, quite suddenly, out of the clear black sky, Dmitri awoke from his marathon sleep. Perhaps it was the sudden stillness of the car, or just some internal antenna that told him they were home.

  “Where. . . where are we?” His voice was blocked almost completely by the phlegm in his throat, which he proceeded to clear with a loud and intense effort. “Is this. . . ?” He peered out the side and back windows, and then his face began to light up with the innocent awe of a five-year-old child. “This is the city,” he marveled. “This is my city. . . .” The smile on his face looked almost permanent.

  “I told you we’d get you pretty close,” Gaia said, smiling back at him.

  “I cannot believe it,” he said, staring gleefully into her eyes. “You are an angel. Both of you. The angels have brought me home. Delivered, uh? I have been delivered from bondage. . . . I cannot believe it. . . . My home, my apartment. . . it is not even so very far from here.”

  Gaia noticed the look in his eyes begin to darken slightly. She couldn’t quite read the shift. Was it sadness? Or maybe worry? But a moment more and Gaia was sure she understood. “Dmitri,” she said, s
earching his eyes. “Is there anyone else at home? Is there someone who can help take care of you?”

  “Oh,” he muttered, averting his eyes. “Oh. . . I will be fine. You don’t need to worry, Gaia. I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself.” He let out another long, phlegm-ridden cough, wheezing slowly to regain his breath.

  Gaia turned her eyes to Sam. He seemed to know exactly what she was thinking. He even seemed to understand that there were a hundred different reasons she was thinking it.

  “Maybe. . . I should stay with you tonight,” Sam suggested, still glancing from her to Dmitri. “Just to make sure you’re okay. You’ve been through an awful lot these past few days.”

  “Oh, no.” Dmitri smiled, waving Sam off. “I would never ask such a thing. Never. You don’t need to be tending to some poor old stranger, Sam. . . .”

  Sam’s eyes drifted back to Gaia. It was as if they had an entire conversation in just that one long glance. A conversation about the many reasons it would be so much better for Sam to leave Gaia’s apartment tonight. Especially if there was a truly safe place for him to stay. A place where no one would ever think to look for him. In a complete stranger’s Upper East Side apartment.

  For one thing, now that Tatiana had discovered Sam, hiding him in the apartment would become so much more complicated. It was only a matter of time before Natasha discovered him, too. And besides, Sam was clearly going stir-crazy in that tiny maid’s room, surrounded by nothing but dust and supplies.

  But even that wasn’t the main reason he needed to go.

  Things had simply gotten too weird. There was no way Gaia and Sam could spend another night in the same apartment after that moment of confusion she’d had in the motel bed. Sure, she had only imagined that Sam was touching her, but the response she’d felt had been shockingly real. And after her suspicious freak-out, she wasn’t even sure she was totally comfortable with him in the apartment, even though she knew that was completely irrational. There were just too many reasons for him to go. Dmitri needed the company. And at this point Gaia had to admit that she would be a little happier to be without Sam’s presence.

  “No, I insist,” Sam said finally, turning to Dmitri. “I mean, if you don’t mind the company, then I really think you shouldn’t be—”

  “Mind the company?” Dmitri wheezed his way through another laugh. “Oh my goodness, no. The company would be. . . But I don’t want to impose on you like this, Sam. No, you are being too kind. You have been kind enough already—”

  “Then it’s done,” Sam interrupted, flashing a smile that looked only slightly fake. “We can help each other recuperate,” he said. “I’ll just get my things from upstairs and we’ll go, okay?”

  Dmitri conceded with a smile. “Okay,” he said. “I am grateful to you, Sam. So grateful.”

  Sam turned to Gaia with another pregnant glance. “Okay?”

  “Okay,” she said, breathing an internal sigh of relief.

  She still had a million questions for Dmitri. She still needed to quiz him on everything he knew about her father, any clues he might be able to provide. But not tonight. Tonight was done. Tomorrow. She would start with him fresh tomorrow.

  “Stay here, Dmitri,” she said. “Sam will be right back with his stuff.” She turned back to Sam. “Let’s go.” They took the elevator in complete silence, both keeping their eyes glued to the flashing numbers above the door. But the moment Gaia stepped off the elevator, she could hear it. Who on earth would not hear it? The offensive muted bass of a loud stereo. The horrible din of a teenage crowd. The yammering chirps of the girls and the caveman like moos of the boys.

  A party. There was a goddamn party going on in Gaia’s apartment.

  “Oh my God,” she groaned, grabbing Sam’s arm at the front door. “Heather’s benefit. It has to be. The freaking after-party,”? she whispered. “They’re having the after-party at my house. Tatiana. . .” She nearly banged her head against the door with frustration.

  “What do we do?” Sam whispered. “I can come back for my stuff—”

  “No, it’s okay,” she said, turning to the door at the end of the hall. “This is nothing. This is not a big deal. We can go straight to your room through the back door. We won’t even pass through the front of the house. It’s a service entrance. Come on.”

  Gaia led Sam through the halls of her building and then unlocked the back door, leading him quietly through the service hallway and into his tiny room.

  The sounds of the drunken crowd grew louder and louder. God, she hated parties. Particularly parties that starred the FOHs. Tatiana would have to be sufficiently reamed tomorrow for bringing the entire New York teenage community into Gaia’s only remaining safe haven. But for now, her only goal was to gather Sam’s things and get him out of there as quickly as possible.

  “Let’s just take what you need for now,” she whispered. “I can bring you the rest later.” She scanned the room for necessary items, but Sam suddenly seemed completely uninterested in gathering his things. He stood in the center of the room, staring at Gaia as she moved back and forth.

  “Gaia. . .”

  “Where’s your toothbrush and stuff like that?”

  “Gaia,” he repeated again at a slightly louder volume.

  Gaia shot her finger up to her lips to keep him quiet. “What?” she whispered impatiently. “What’s wrong?”

  “Come here,” he said.

  She paused and stared at his solemn expression.

  “Please,” he said. “Just for a second. I just want to say something, and then I’ll go, okay?”

  She could see the necessity building in his eyes and she was compelled to respect it. She stopped her frantic movements and stepped up close to him so they were standing face-to-face.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, trying her best to let go of her discomfort at such close range.

  “I just wanted to say that I know that you’re with Ed now, and I’m sorry if anything I’ve done has made you feel uncomfortable,” he said. “I know we’re not going to go back in time. And I have to find it in my heart to accept that. And I will. I will accept that. What we had is—”

  The sound of the raucous crowd suddenly burst into the room in a giant gush of air, cutting Sam off and assaulting Gaia’s eardrums. They whipped their heads toward the open doorway.

  And there was Tatiana. Standing half in the door with a massive sheepish grin on her face.

  That stupid lock. Gaia had completely forgotten about the broken lock on the door.

  “Uh-ohhh” Tatiana sang, ducking her head down into her shoulders like a guilty turtle. “I think I’ve just int’rupted a romantic moment. So sorry. So, so, so, sor-reeeee.” She giggled slightly and changed her footing to maintain her balance. She was slurring every other word.

  Tatiana was so obviously plastered. Gaia could honestly smell her breath from across the room. She was almost drunk beyond recognition, if there was such a thing.

  Gaia felt her entire body seize up with anger. “Will you close that door?” she whispered through clenched teeth.

  “What?” Tatiana belted out at top volume.

  “The door,” Gaia hissed.

  “Re-lax, my sister.” Tatiana laughed. “I am just here for some supplies. I need extra paper towels. It seems I have spilled my beer.” She leaned in farther with a winking glance, nearly falling over. “But I think maybe my sister has gone a bit boy-crazy tonight, uh? Look at you two—”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about!” Gaia stepped past Tatiana and slammed the door shut. Her instinct was to push Tatiana out herself, but that would have been way too violent. Instead she simply barked into Tatiana’s drunken face, nearly ripping her vocal cords to maintain a whisper. “You’re drunk, Tatiana. You’re disgustingly drunk. Now will you do me a favor and get the hell out of this room! Get out!”

  Tatiana’s eyes suddenly glazed over with rage as she stared at Gaia.

  “Don’t you talk to me that way,” she
spat. “Don’t you accuse me. You are the one in here with your secret boyfriend. You are the one making Ed some kind of fool, making him mope around with his head dragging across the floor waiting for you to come home when here you are already home, whispering sweet nothings in your secret hideaway. I think that is what is disgusting, Gaia. Not how much I have had to drink, but the way you treat your boyfriend. He deserves so much better than this. So much better. And in case you were wondering who I meant by ‘your boyfriend,’ I meant Ed. Not this one,” she hissed, pointing her finger out at Sam. “Ed.”

  With that, she stormed out of the room and slammed the door behind her.

  Gaia stared at the door, breathing heavily, burning from Tatiana’s offensive and totally misguided accusations. But she would have to let it go for now. She would have to. At this point the only imperative was to get Sam through that back door and out of this house for good. With that broken lock on the door and a house full of drunken freaks, it was all getting just a little too close for comfort.

  She stepped back over to Sam. “I’m sorry,” she told him, shaking her head. “I am so sorry about that. I’ve never seen her like that in my life. I guess I’ve never seen her drunk.”

  “It’s okay,” Sam assured her.

  “You’ve got to go, Sam. You’ve got to go now.”

  “I know,” he said. “I know I do. Look, forget about my stuff, all right? We can deal with the stuff tomorrow. I just. . . Okay, I know I can’t pick up where we left off, not after that, but. . .”

  Given a moment, Gaia was beginning to feel slightly ill about everything Tatiana had said about Ed. Even if Tatiana had no idea what was going on here, Gaia could still feel a well of guilt beginning to spread through her chest like a fungus. Sam picked up on it immediately.

  “Don’t worry about Ed, Gaia.” His kind eyes were actually a little soothing. “You’ll fix everything, I’m sure of it. Look, just. . . just give me hug, all right? A friendly hug,” he assured her. “And then I’ll go. And we’ll move forward. And you’ll fix things with Ed, and we’ll find your father, and everything will work out. It will, Gaia. I know it will.”