Dark of Night - Flesh and Fire (24 page)

Todd relived everything now as he sang.

He whipped the car around a corner and almost lost control. He tightened his hands on the wheel and steadied the vehicle. His mind cleared and the cold present replaced the vibrant moving pictures of the past. He glanced around, making sure no police had witnessed his reckless driving as his tires screeched in protest. Only the woods that lined the road had observed his transgression. At his speed, one of those trees could do him a lot of damage.

The hill declined, which meant he was closer to work. Havertown Community Bank’s corporate headquarters operated in the town below. He drove closer to the gray heart of reality, but the melodies of each song pulled him away again.

He almost missed the black-clad figure stumbling into the middle of the road. He slammed on the brakes, but was going too fast. As his tires screeched he saw the doe-eyed look of terror on the face of a young, dark-haired girl. For an instant, he thought he knew her. Fading between reality and memory had blurred his awareness. He was, however, sure he was going to end her life if he didn’t react quickly. He cut his steering wheel to the right, his foot still pressed down on the brake pedal, and went off the road. His car dipped into a grassy ditch at the edge of the woods. His body jerked. He raised his hands as fast as he could, but his face connected with the steering wheel.

Silvery stars exploded in front of his eyes. For a moment, he thought they might be spotlights, blinding him as he tried to look at faces in a crowd. But he wasn’t in a club; he was in his car. The gray steering wheel with the Cadillac logo sat kissing distance from his face. His raspy voice crooned about fiery crashes fusing two lovers together, the need for that magnitude of passion, and a quickly approaching doom.

How fitting.

He turned the music off and pulled on his door handle with a trembling hand. With his pulse pounding between his temples, he tried to maneuver his way out of the vehicle. Too rattled to muster a lot of strength, it took two efforts to get the door open.

Once out, he made an inventory of himself and confirmed that he was in one piece. His car he wasn’t so sure about. A large crack split the driver's side headlight, and it shined no light. Fog swirled around the hood. At least he hoped it was fog, and not smoke.

Thankfully, his car rested in a shallow ditch. Upon closer examination, he saw that other than the headlight, the front of the car had only a few dents and scratches, and his tires still held their air.

Back by the road, the girl in black wandered toward him and he realized exactly who she was.

* * *

He first met her at an after party for one of his gigs. Her father Les cooked at Master’s Catering and had organized this, along with many other parties. Someone worked the door and the parties always turned a profit. Like most nights, on the night he met Chloe more people attended the after party than the actual gig. A diverse group of people packed the dance floor. Younger rock and roll kids decked out in denim jackets covered in patches. Well-dressed older guys and their dates, trying hard to recapture a youth that had long passed them by.

The hall smelled of spilled liquor and air freshener. A couple that had just snuck into the bathroom snuck their way back into the hall. Todd watched them try to play it cool as they shuffled back to the dance floor, amazed that on other nights of the week the hall hosted serious parties for serious people. The debauchery that sometimes transpired on nights like this made it hard to believe that anybody serious ever set foot in here. Once two young punks beat the shit out of a middle-aged dude who’d slammed down enough shots to think it smart to start a fight with the two younger, stronger partiers. Pretty funny to think that the next day the hall had hosted some kind of business card exchange. The staff probably had all kinds of crazy stories. Todd knew Les did.

He considered Les a good friend. Though much older, Les always spoke to him as though they were equals, very different from the “daddy knows best” manner of Todd Sr. Les enjoyed Todd's music and because of his job at the catering hall, he knew a lot of people and almost always brought a crowd to Todd’s shows.

Les clapped him on the shoulder, and he almost spilled his drink. Les said something in slurred speech and Todd spun around on his stool to face his much drunker counterpart.

Les's gray-streaked hair hung in a shoulder-length mess, but he stood tall in the dim lights like a rock star, in good shape despite his lifelong love affair with booze. Todd hoped then to be that cool when he reached Les’s age, was absolutely sure he would be.

“What’s up, man?”

“Someone I want you to meet.” Les jutted his thumb to his right. “This is my daughter Chloe. She’s home from college for the summer.”

Todd stopped the drink at his lips. The young woman's dark hair fell in perfect ringlets across smooth, milky shoulders. Even in the dim light of the hall, her wide, dark chocolate eyes glistened. A black dress came to the middle of her thighs and showed him her statuesque legs. Despite the booze in his system, the sight of her gave him a moment of perfect clarity.

“She’s a musician like you.”

Todd left the bar, but not before getting her a drink.

Les smiled, not seeming to mind that Todd had ordered his daughter a drink. Les had always respected him. If anyone could buy his daughter a drink, Todd could. If Les had planned it as a setup, he wasn't subtle about it. He left the scene as soon as Todd and Chloe held each other’s attention.

Todd fumbled for words as he handed the gorgeous woman a drink. He and Anna were dating, but no mention of serious commitment had passed between them. The field lay open before him.

“So you’re a musician?”

“Yeah, I play keyboards.” She considered the drink in her hand, held it down at waist-level. “I’m not classically trained or anything, but I pick things up pretty fast. Mostly write my own stuff.”

“That’s really cool. More than cool. My songs could use some keyboards."

“Yeah, I’d be up for jamming.” She smiled, shy and restrained, but beautiful in spite of that. Maybe even because of that. “I’m home for the summer. Maybe even longer. School’s not going so well.” Her eyes shifted.

Todd gave a dry laugh. “I know the feeling. I barely graduated last year.”

“Hey, at least you finished, man. What’d you major in?”

Todd rolled his eyes. “Finance. Thrilling, huh?”

“I never would’ve pegged you for that.”

“Oh, trust me. It’s very much a back-up plan. I’m taking my music as far as it will take me.”

“That’s good. I don’t think I’d be alive if it wasn’t for music. No matter how bad shit gets, I’m usually okay as long as I can play.”

“I know what you mean.” He did. He had spent many nights alone in his room, strumming chords into his headphones, the door locked against the rest of the house. Whenever he had a fight with his father or Anna, playing took him away to a special place. Somewhere between oblivion and rapture.

She put her unfinished drink down and asked if he wanted to come outside and smoke with her. He agreed and they made their way through dancing people and out the double doors. He noted the way she moved, in free sweeping motions as if she swam through the air in front of her, delicate and pure.

Outside, he bummed a cigarette from her and she lit it for him. They smoked in silence. He tried not to be creepy as he just watched. Her hand as she brought the cigarette to her small mouth moved with beautiful elegance. He kept quiet, afraid to ruin what could be a perfect moment.

Nearby, a group of kids in leather stood in a circle smoking and passing a flask around. Crickets gave the surrounding woods symphonic life and muffled the music from inside. An owl hooted every few moments in no particular pattern. The others finished their cigarettes and went back inside.

“I should’ve gotten us more drinks,” he said.

“Maybe.” A long pause. “I’m not really supposed to drink.”

“Oh?”

Chloe flicked some ashes off of the cigarette and watched them drift down to the pavement. “I’m an addict.”

Todd tried to play it cool because in spite of her confession he liked her, her mystery, the fact she liked what he liked, and that she was the daughter of a good friend.

Against his will, nervous laughter escaped him. “What do you like?”

She sized him up to gauge how he'd respond. She took a drag from her cigarette and looked away. “Heroin.”

That almost stopped the conversation. The drummer in one of his previous bands had been a heroin addict. His dependence on the drug led to his departure from the band and he’d died of an overdose, isolated from Todd and the others he’d called his friends.

Chloe sensed the awkward silence and apologized immediately. Todd looked her up and down, stopping at her dark eyes. They captivated him, hypnotized him. Instead of turning him away, her damage made him want her more. Underneath her fragility, he saw untapped light and beauty begging for release. When he stared into her eyes, he saw the opportunity to save a life, to smooth out her rough edges, and create something perfect.

He moved in to kiss her and she pulled away. She laughed a little.

“I just told you I’m addicted to heroin. If that’s not a sign that I’m trouble, I don’t know what is.”

“Maybe I like a challenge,” he said and tried again.

She held up a hand to his lips. “Look, you seem like a really nice guy. You don’t want any part of me. Believe me.”

“Look, it’s behind you right? You’re sober now.” He looked at the drink in her hand. “Well, sort of. But look, if you’re trying to make things better for yourself, you’ll probably want someone to support you.”

“And that’s you?”

“Maybe it’s me. Maybe it isn’t. How about this: I won’t kiss you tonight, but I’ll give you my number. You said you’d be up for jamming. We can start there and see where it goes.”

She dropped her gaze. When she returned it, she was smiling that shy, restrained smile. “All right, we’ll see where it goes.”

A couple of weeks later, he brought her on stage at one of his shows.

“Everyone, say ‘hi’ to Chloe,” he said as she took her place behind her Yamaha DX7. “She’s gonna help me sing this next one.”

They'd written the song together in the days leading up to the show. It was called, “The Lie,” and its lyrics had come from a discussion they’d had about marriage and kids.
This could be so great: you can be my best friend; they can carry on our legacy. But it can't be obligation, baby, no. We can't be like the others, oh no.
Todd sang the first verse and she harmonized him during the chorus.
Inner fires reduced to embers in a backyard grill if we should fall into this lie. I love you more than the stars in the sky, but don't let us fall into the lie.

* * *

As he saw her now, on the side of Route 32, in the flesh, these recollections hit him like a high speed train. Staring into her dark, desperate eyes opened a door within him, one that had been locked for decades, like the door to his studio, but even more secret, more forgotten.

Her being here was impossible. Les’s voice as he called to deliver the news of her death repeated in Todd's mind. He remembered feeling like Les's voice had been full of emotion that could burst forth at any moment.

Just as impossible, she looked not a day older than when he’d last seen her. The same raven hair fell in thick ringlets across her silky, pale shoulders. The petite body still possessed the same tight definition.

He didn’t believe in the supernatural. As a young man, he considered himself open to the possibility, even trying different churches, studying various religions, and listening to Les talk for hours about the occult, but these interests died in the place of a lonely routine limited to his bedroom, his office cubicle, the road to work, and his dinner table.

Because of this lack of belief, the sight of his thirty-years-dead ex-girlfriend standing before him sent him into numbed hysteria. He couldn’t speak. He could hardly move. All he could do was gasp and stare. He took several steps back and braced himself against the cool skin of his car.

“You remember me.” Not a question.

Even her voice was the same. Its soft, lively tone resonated through him.

“How…?” he sputtered.

“I have no time to explain.” She walked toward him and he tensed up. A frightened yelp escaped his lips. Death overshadowed her presence, challenged everything he knew, and part of him tried to reason that this was a dream. She looked over at his Cadillac. “Is your car okay?”

His lips moved, but no words came out. He nodded.

“We need to put some miles behind us.”

Todd shook his head, a nugget of rationality returning. “What? No… I…”

“Todd, please,” she said. The pleading tone of her voice snapped him out of it. Her eyes were soft.

“I can call for help.”

But he already knew that he wouldn’t make it to work today. Sanity, responsibility, and all that he convinced himself had mattered over the last thirty years now seemed less significant. He remembered the song he’d written for her, about how she’d come into his life black-haired, and blissfully damaged.

“Chloe, how are you here? I just don’t believe…”

“I will explain everything.” Once an elderly woman had slipped and fell outside his bank. His co-worker had been a woman named Kristin who had stayed with the victim until the EMTs arrived. She'd talked to the old woman in a level, purposeful voice. Todd had known then that Kristin had meant to keep the woman calm and he recognized the same tone in Chloe's voice now.

"We just have to get in the car first, okay?" she said.

A whooshing sound came from within the woods, reminding him of a bonfire doused in lighter fluid.

Panic entered her voice. “Right now, I need you to get me out of here.”

Beyond the hill, a red orange cloud filled the sky, like a volcano had erupted. Agony-filled screams came from inside, and another sound, like stone grinding against stone, the single most horrible thing he’d ever heard. It brought to mind a verse he barely remembered from his childhood youth group Bible studies. Something about wailing and gnashing of teeth. An icy chill crawled from the base of his spine to the back of his skull and he shuddered.