Confabulation (9 page)

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Authors: Ronald Thomas

BOOK: Confabulation
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CHAPTER
22

 

Henry sat at the bar, nursing his ninth screwdriver. It’d been a couple of hours since Kelly spotted him in his car. He was watching her from the street through binoculars, but she happened to spot his car as she was peering out the window. He hadn’t seen much of her since the courthouse. She didn’t come home that night, and he couldn’t find her when he searched.

It’d been twenty-four hours, and he hadn’t been home. Just been searching. He got caught enjoying the sight of her face. That brief vacation from his duties had destroyed another opportunity to protect her. He remembered feeling his stomach sink to his feet when he saw her face in the window. He wanted to explain everything. Opened his care door. She closed the curtains.

That argument seemed destined for the house, but not the office.

He headed for the bar.

"Are you okay, buddy?" The bartender pushed another pungent orange drink.

"I’m fine, thanks." Henry poured the beverage into his mouth, flinging ice onto his face, shirt, and the floor around him. "I’ll have another, this time with no ice."

He gulped the next screwdriver and slammed the glass down.

"Hey, pal. If you don’t settle down, you’re gonna have to leave."

"Sorry, I’ll take another one, and move to that booth over there."

"Fine, I’ll bring it over to ya."

Henry stammered over to the booth in the dim corner of the bar and sat with his back to the room. He needed to help her, but he’d run out of ideas. She was avoiding him. And he was pretty shitty at staying hidden.

Henry gulped down the drink and waved for another. He could feel the numbing beginning in his lips, and he smiled as he thought of the coming euphoria. He rested his head on the table. Thought about her.

Henry woke up and wiped the salt from his face. He struggled to focus, and picked up a white space that he assumed was a napkin. He stood up from the bench, and bent over as the drinks he had consumed begged to move back up his throat. He remained bent over, breathing deep breaths, until the sensation had passed. He exhaled loudly and reached for his keys.

He slapped his pockets and looked on the floor, but he found nothing but sticky spots and broken glass. "What the hell?"

"I ain’t lettin’ ya drive home in your condition."

Henry looked up and strained to see who was speaking. He made out a large white space behind the bar. "Give me my keys."

"I don’t think so, pal."

"Fine. Keep ‘em." Henry staggered out of the bar. Was thankful that the sun had gone down while he was inside. His house was only a few blocks away. He took his time getting home. Didn’t have much choice. He walked up the path to the front door, and rested his head near the peephole. Knocked.

"Kelly. Let me in." He waited for several moments, knocking and ringing the bell alternately as he waited. "Kelly?" After several minutes he reached down to picked up the spare key. After taking more deep breaths, and preparing to stand, he opened the door. He stepped into the dark house, and knocked over a vase while searching for the light switch.

The house appeared in order to him as he scanned the living room. He noticed that some of the furniture seemed to be out of place, but since he was struggling to even make out the difference between the couch and the sofa, he didn’t worry about it.

"Kelly! Where are you?" Henry glanced down and noticed that he had some messages waiting. He took several moments to count the flashing lights, but gave up and pressed the fortunately large button.

"Mr. Adamson," the voice of Dr. Davy clawed through his drunken haze, "you have missed two scheduled appointments and I’ll be forced to terminate our relationship if you do not continue your counseling. Please call my office tomorrow if you wish to continue."

"Shit. I don’t have time for that crap. Screw her." Henry reached for the button again, but stopped. He thought about how his employer would react to his stopping the sessions, after all, he was going in order to clear his record.

Thoughts of Dr. Davy and work temporarily left his mind as a more pressing desire took hold. After rushing to the sink and removing some excess alcohol from his system, he decided to call Dr. Davy in the morning and he pressed the button for the next message.

"Henry," he sat down and smiled as Kelly’s voice greeted him, "I didn’t want to do this on a machine, but I don’t think I could to your face. I’ve moved out. You’ll notice that I’ve taken clothes and supplies for several days."

Henry jumped up, and then fell to the floor when he landed. Held his head while he listened. "I won’t demand that you move out, but I can’t live with you right now. Henry, you need help. You’re starting to scare me and I think this is best. Take care of yourself and get some help. I hope things can be the way they were again soon. I love you. Bye."

Henry lay on the floor, sobbing and screaming to the walls. He struggled to stand, but the vodka and the blow to the head conspired to keep him where he was. Eventually, he fell asleep, though he knew he shouldn’t.

When he woke, he ignored his pounding head and dry mouth. Grabbed clothes and shoved them into a bag. Carried it out to his car, locking the door behind him. He threw the ragged green sack into the back seat and looked a final time at the house that he and Kelly had shared for four years.

He called her. She didn’t answer. “Kelly. I’ve moved out. I don’t like the thought of you living out of a hotel room. I’ll find some help, but the house is yours. I won’t call again.”

Henry knew what he wanted. Knew having her home would make watching her easier. He had no idea where she was. That had to change. Still, leaving his home, and moving away from Kelly was something he never wanted to do, and it killed a little piece of him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER
23

 

Carolyn jumped from her chair at the sound of the opening door. It had been more than a full day since Susan left. Carolyn’s stomach sank. She heard the key open the lock.

Susan must have failed.

They had found her.

Carolyn had heard noises throughout the night.

Voices seemed to rise up from the street, urging her to flee.

When she concentrated, she could never hear the voices, but as her mind drifted, the message always returned. She had felt so secure, and now was trembling.

She was as sure now of imminent danger.

She picked up a knife from the table and ran to the side of the door. As the deadbolt slid away, she gripped the knife. The door opened quietly, and Carolyn could see a foot enter the room. With white knuckles, she squeezed the handle.

The rest of the leg entered the room.

Carolyn swung out from behind the door and drove the knife down.

She heard a scream as she ran passed the intruder. Continued her escape. She knew there was no time to delay. She ran, searching for an exit. Couldn’t wait for the elevator. Couldn’t find the stairs. She ended up back on the same hall as before. Staring down at the door she fled. Laying the doorway, Susan pulled the knife from her leg. Wrapped a rag around it to try and stop the bleeding.

“Susan, what’s going on?”

Susan stood and braced herself on the wall.

"We need to go somewhere else."

"What? Why?"

Susan swung her pack onto her back and held one out for Carolyn. "Looks like they found a way to get to you in here. Shouldn’t have happened. But this place isn’t safe anymore. We need to go."

Carolyn strapped the pack on and followed Susan out the door. "I don’t understand."

“I said I thought someone on the inside was involved. Looks like it’s someone who knows our safe locations.”

"If this isn’t safe, why did you bring me here?" Carolyn’s heart began to race again. She knew that this was wrong. She knew she needed to get away. Not just away from this building, but away from Susan, away from everything.

"Do you even know how to stop them? Why didn’t we go sooner? How do we know the other place will be safe? You thought this was safe." Carolyn’s mind was racing, but she felt that her thoughts were clearer than ever. She knew the answers to her questions, had known from the beginning, but fear pushed the truth away. She stepped back from Susan, and began to hurry her pace. "You’re one of them. You’re the one that’s out to hurt me." She turned and began running.

Carolyn ran out the door and down the street, throwing her weight into doors, garbage cans, and people that were in her way. Her heart pounded with the knowledge that the threat was still behind her. She dared not look around for fear she would slow down or trip, giving Susan enough time to catch her. She ran as hard as she could, knowing she would stop only when she could no longer move.

Sweat poured into her eyes on the hot day, but she continued to run. She stayed on the most populated streets to make her abduction more difficult. Knew the key was to keep moving and stay away from Susan. She could feel the woman’s breath on her back, and she pushed herself onward. Finally, after an unknown eternity, Carolyn collapsed.

She stood and tried to run again, but her muscles refused. She could no longer ignore the pain of the bruises, cuts, and blisters.

She struggled to her feet. Looked around. No sign of Susan. She had a moment, but she needed to get further away. Her eyes darted about in a hectic patter until she saw a cab. Held her hand up, and slipped in when it pulled up in front of her.

She knew she couldn’t go home, but she had to go somewhere

"Take me to 1206 Humphrey."

"Yes, ma’am."

Carolyn looked out the back window, waiting to see a car pull out and follow her. Throughout the trip, she watched for cars that followed too close, or made too many of the same turns. She kept track of cars that would disappear, only to appear in view again later.

As they approached the address, Carolyn continued to watch for followers. She was confident that none had trailed her, but she still feared whoever was behind Susan and the others.

She stepped out of the cab and handed the driver a hundred dollar bill. She didn’t wait for change, and she heard his tires squeal indicating he was in no mood to argue over a large tip. Carolyn walked to the door, examining bushes and shadows that loomed over the yard and entry. She rung the doorbell and tapped her right foot. "Come on, answer the door."

She saw a line of light appear at the edge of the door, and she pulled the screen aside. She stepped forward, pushed the door open, and stared at the open door and the person who stood behind it. She fell to her knees under the pressure of her exhaustion and defeat.

"You’re not Douglas. Where is he?"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER
24

 

Henry tapped his feet and looked at his watch often as he spoke. "There’s really nothing wrong with me that you can help me with." He continued looking at the floor.

"Henry, why don’t you tell me what’s bothering you, and then we’ll see if I can help?"

"It’s like I said before, I just don’t like her being away from the house so much when I don’t know where she is."

"Have you spoken to her about it?"

"Yeah, and she moved out."

"I see, so where is she now?"

"She’s in the house. I left a message and told her that I would move to a hotel so she could stay in the house. I feel like she’s safer there." Henry could see that the hour was almost through, and he relaxed.

"I think we’re making some progress, Henry. But I would like you to take some tests so we can determine if anything else is troubling you, and to what extent this relationship problem is impacting your life."

"My wife won’t live with me, isn’t that enough to know what the impact is?" Henry stood, and stepped toward the door.

"Henry, I think we need these tests in order to move forward into treatment."

Henry clinched his fists. He was sure this was all a scheme to keep him from protecting Kelly. An excuse to put him away. He knew that he was risking his career and his future, but he couldn’t afford to be institutionalized. He shook his head. "No, I won’t take any damned tests."

"Henry, you need these tests."

"I said no!"

"Henry, I can’t continue to see you if you aren’t going to accept help. If you don’t want to be here, then there is no reason to continue."

"Fine. Have a nice life." Henry opened the door and stepped into the hall before turning around. "And if you talk to the company, tell them I fucking quit."

Henry stormed from Dr. Davy's office, ignoring the comments from the office staff.  Once in his car, he careened through traffic until he came to a hotel that was run down enough to ensure that no friend of Kelly's would ever see him there.

He stepped out onto the broken ground and made his way to the broken glass door. He made his way across the stained carpet to the unshaven man behind the counter.

"How much for a room?"

"Fifty a night, paid up front."

"Fine."

"What’s the name?"

Henry started to give his name but worried he was being tracked. That they would do anything to keep him from saving Kelly.

Henry looked up from the floor and saw the clerk had reached under the counter. He smiled and answered the question. "Oh, sorry. Kevin Scott. Did you say fifty?"

"Yes, sir. Fifty bucks."

Henry pushed the cash to the clerk and took his keys. "Thanks."

"No problem, Mr. Scott."

Henry took the stairs to the room number on the key. Smelled of old wet towels. The carpet was the thin, hard type that seemed to cover every floor of every office building. He arrived at his room and opened the door, laughing at the noisy hinges. The room was dark, for which he was thankful, and the air smelled even staler than the hall outside. Henry sat on the edge of the bed. Took his shoes off. Sighed.

"What am I going to do? I can’t be everywhere at once."

Henry dropped his keys on the nightstand and fell into the springy twin sized bed. He reached for the remote control. Lingered on the sign for the hotel outside his window. He’d moved to the less than luxurious accommodations so that Kelly could stay in the house. At least then, he knew where to find her and where she should be. He told her he was seeking help, though he hadn’t returned to Dr. Davy, and that soon they could be together again.

"I won't it happen." After changing the channel from the painful reminder of violence that was the local news, he muted the television and reached for the phone. He hesitated, but he had to know how she was doing, even though he had called just before seeing Dr. Davy..

"Hello, Henry. I'm fine. Please stop calling me."

"I just wanted to see if you were alright."

"I'm fine, good-bye."

The click on the line ended the conversation before he could continue. He picked up the remote again, and switched the channel to a talk show—they always seemed to put him to sleep.

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