Monochrome (16 page)

Ishmael stopped walking. “Abby…”

“Don’t worry. I still plan on going home. If my husband doesn’t want me, I can still try to be a better mom from now on.”

Ishmael continued walking. “It’s not your fault. Depression makes people crazy, irrational.”

Abigail shrugged but she glowed inside; it felt good to have someone understand how she felt. “Yeah. I suppose. You know, I used to be a good wife.”

“I’ve guessed as much.”

“I have more good memories of him than bad, and the bad ones aren’t all bad.”

Ishmael just nodded.

“When I first saw him…” She grinned. “I don’t know how to explain it. I had to make him mine. And it wasn’t a sexual thing. Well, not
all
sexual. It was just a feeling he was exactly what I was missing out on. He was whatever every other man I’d known was not.”

She laughed. “It sounds silly, I know, but it’s true.”

Ishmael stopped walking. “No, it sounds great. I don’t think anyone has ever said something so nice about me, or, if they have, I don’t remember it now.”

Abigail’s heart sank for Ishmael. “Why did you stay here? Was it that bad back home?”

His eyebrows drew together. “Not bad, just pointless. I don’t believe in a higher purpose. I’m not sure I believe in unconditional love or love at all, and I’m not sure I want to bring another being into a life I don’t even want to live. As you can imagine, it’s difficult to keep friends or lovers around with such a bleak outlook on life. It was always fine at first, but pretty much everyone got tired of my attitude after a while.”

She wasn’t sure what to say. She didn’t want to be condescending and say something cliché, so she just put her arm in his and walked next to him. She couldn’t imagine feeling like life was pointless every day all the time. She didn’t feel that way, even if she was desperately sad. No, she felt she had a purpose. She just knew she was making a mess of it all.

Finally, Abigail spoke. “I forgive you. Just don’t lie to me anymore, okay?”

“I won’t,” he replied.

“I think someone loved you before. You may not have the memory, but I think you must’ve been loved, and I don’t believe you’ve never felt love either.”

His voice was lighter, if somewhat sad, as he answered. “You’re right. There is someone I love, who loves me, but it wasn’t enough. I’ll keep her memories until I have nothing left to give.”

“Who?”

He beamed. “My mommy, of course.”

Abigail giggled. “That’s the most adorable thing I’ve ever heard.”

She put her arm through his, and he laughed with her. “Yeah, I’m a momma’s boy.”

Abigail stopped walking. “Come with me.”

He frowned. “I am coming with you.”

She shook her head. “No, I mean come home with me, across the border.”

He took his hat off and ran his hand through his hair. “I’ve thought about going back before, but not in a long time.” He shook his head. “I just don’t know what to do, especially after having been here so long. I mean, the stuff I’ve done…How does a man come back?” His face was glacial.

She kept her hand on his arm. “Exactly! You did those things to keep going, to hold on to memories that are yours, that are special. Why fight every day? Why not come home and make new, better memories?”

She motioned around her. “You’re not going to make any here, and this place will eventually win. You’ve seen it. You don’t want to end up like Geoff or Eric or any of your other lost Leads and you don’t have to. You said I’m not meant for this place, but it’s clear to me you’re not either.”

Ishmael shook his head. “I don’t know how you can say so, knowing how many times I’ve been paid because I didn’t try to help my Leads. You have
experience
d what I do. You’ve been tested and it was my fault. How can I go home and forget what I did?” He sighed. “I’ll have to think about it, okay?”

She was searching for the words to convince him, but was caught off guard by what happened next. He whirred around, put his arms around her neck and held her tight. His mouth tickled her ear as he whispered, “I don’t know if you’re right about me not belonging here, but I do know what you’re wrong about.”

She didn’t know how to respond to this new intimacy, so she just put her arms around his waist, and hugged him back. “What?”

She felt his face shift next to her cheek, and she could tell he was smiling. “I have made good memories here. I didn’t think it was possible, either. I’ve never met anyone like you.”

Ishmael let his grip on Abigail go and backed away, still holding her arms. “And I’m not sure I will again, even if I go home. I’m here because I’m not good at life. Those people who know how to seize the day? I’m not one of those, and I never had the means to seize more than a hot dog from a street vendor, anyway.” He dropped his hands to his sides, and gazed at her with hunger.

She cleared her throat and shied away from his intent stare. “Okay, if that’s true and you have made good memories with me, do you want to lose them all? I’m not staying, so you’ll eventually lose me and then you’ll lose the memories of me, one by one.”

His silence spoke more than words; he didn’t want to lose her. He just put his hat back on and frowned her way. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a cigarette from his pack and lit it.

Finally, after taking a few drags, he said, “I’ll have to think about this more, okay? I don’t want to talk about it anymore right now and talking is slowing us down, anyway.”

She knew he was right. They kept pausing and ambling in order to talk, and it was getting them nowhere fast. “We can talk when we next stop.”

He exhaled. “We staying indoors tonight?” She nodded. He moved ahead. “Then we better walk faster. The next town is a ways off, and we want to make it before we lose the light.”

*

Abigail felt fatigue, sore muscles and lack of food getting to her. She and Ishmael had walked for hours and it was hard to tell if they’d made any progress.
I should’ve eaten the rest of that disgusting sandwich.

She trusted Ishmael knew where he was going, but everything was an identical blur to her. Her legs felt like they were made of lead, her face and neck throbbed where she’d been hit and cut, and she was getting a headache from the dull silver light that shone all around them, but came from nowhere.

Ishmael trudged ahead of her, but his pace was slowing as well. He hadn’t finished his food at the bar either, opting to go after her instead. He smoked throughout the walk, but said very little. She watched his back as he walked ahead of her, noting the slump to his shoulders the more they walked. It was a good thing she was paying attention, too, because he stopped suddenly in front of her, and brought his hands around his back in a stretch.

He nodded to her. “You’re tired.”

She yawned wearily and searched for somewhere to sit. She saw a stump off to the left of the path, went to it and sat down. Her legs immediately felt lighter and throbbed less as she stretched them in front of her. He followed her and sat on the ground against a navy tree, across from where she was seated. “We have a couple hours of light left. Two at most.”

She noted the hesitance in his voice. “Will it be enough to make it to shelter?”

He bit his cheek. “I don’t think so. Not enough to make it to town, anyway. Because of the mix-up with Geoff and Eric, we’re running a couple hours behind. It’s messed with our chances of getting somewhere tonight. I was worried it might, but didn’t realize just how much time we lost.”

She felt her stomach drop. “So what does that mean? Do we have to stay outside? With Geoff and Eric on our tails and God knows what or who prowling around out there?”

Ishmael scratched his short beard. “Well, there is another option, but it’s risky.”

“What’s the option?”

Ishmael picked up a blue twig and picked at its bark. “I know we’re about an hour off the path from a Guide’s post. It will put us a little behind for tomorrow but we’d have free shelter for the night.”

“What’s a Guide’s post?”

Ishmael scratched in the silver-blue dirt with a twig. “A few Guides have set them up throughout Monochrome. They’re little one room cabins Guides use to keep shelter when we’re not working. The thing is, they aren’t set along the path because Guides don’t want them to become shelter for whatever Roamer happens upon them, but it’s never guaranteed to be empty. This one’s pretty deep into the forest, and I’ve only been there once.”

Abigail put her face in her hands. “There’s no way we can make it to the next town, even if we pick up the pace?”

But Ishmael was already shaking his head. “Abby, you’re dead on your feet. I’m not sure you can move faster, and for good reason. You’ve been in two pretty crazy fights, we’ve been walking for two days with little rest and you’ve received very little sustenance. We might be able to make it to town if we jogged, but you can barely walk, and I know I can’t jog.”

She knew he was right, but she was very nervous about being put further off schedule to walk to a place Ishmael
might
find, and
might
not be occupied. “I think you know what you’re capable of and you know this place, so you should decide.”

“It’s not my job as a Guide to tell my Lead what we’re doing. It’s the job of a Guide to give the Lead choices and let the Lead decide her fate.”

She leaned forward. “If I weren’t your Lead and was, instead, your friend, which option would you choose?”

Ishmael scanned the area nervously, as if he was sure there were spies waiting to sell him out for failing in his job. Abigail tapped her foot, but waited for his answer. Finally, he rose and offered her his hand. She took it and allowed him to help her up. He held onto one of her hands and led her further into the forest.

*

Darkness became more tangible the deeper into the forest they went. The air cooled and a white, misty fog trailed them. It must’ve been an hour since they left the path. Ishmael walked determinedly ahead, his hand tight around Abigail’s. She tried to let go once, but he shook his head. “Night is coming. Nightmares don’t always linger near their dreamers. Stay very close.” He didn’t elaborate, but his voice was afraid.

Several minutes later, Abigail was just about to ask Ishmael if he was lost when he stopped suddenly and peered ahead into the impossibly dark, dense wood. “What is it?”

He drew her towards a very old, very large tree. She noticed, as they got closer, something was scratched into the bark, a rough diamond shape. “This is it. It should be just a short walk from here.”

He exhaled in relief and watched the dimming silver light. “Just in time, too. The fog is coming in more quickly than I expected.”

They walked a short distance, and a small clearing opened before them. She noticed the faint outlines of a petite dwelling. It appeared, from afar, to be empty. Her heart felt immediately lighter.

“Stay behind me,” Ishmael cautioned in a whisper. “It doesn’t look like anyone is in there, but you never can be too careful here.”

They tiptoed up to the tiny one-room cabin. Ishmael peered into the dark windows. “No sign of a fire. No sign of movement.” He pushed on the door and it swung inwards with a creak that made her hair stand on end. “Stay right here by the door,” he cautioned her.

He finally let her hand drop and she clenched and unclenched her fist to bring life back into it. He’d squeezed it so tightly it fell asleep about thirty minutes into the walk, but she was squeezing back equally as hard, so she couldn’t complain. It was the fog licking her ankles that scared her most. It was so cold, and, when it touched her skin, she sensed the despair of hundreds of dreamers.

He scanned the inside of the cabin, checking around corners in the darkness. Finally, he came back to her, gestured for her to come inside and shut the door behind her. She was more at ease, shutting the fog outside and away from her. He moved a large sliding iron bolt, which clicked noisily in place.

Abigail remained standing by the door, unable to see very far in front of her. Ishmael moved towards the middle of the small cabin and crouched by a black-dust fireplace. “I can build a little fire that won’t put off much smoke, but it’s going to be a cold night. I can’t make a big fire. If we’re still being followed, it may give us away. But any fire will keep the Nightmares at bay. They won’t venture where the fog can’t.” He spoke in a hush, even though they were alone, in the middle of nowhere.

There was a leather bag hanging above the fireplace with twigs, papers, and other kindling. Ishmael arranged papers, scraps of wood and dried bark into a pile in the middle of the fireplace. He added a few small pieces of wood from a stack he or another Guide must have cut and brought in months ago. There were cobwebs on the logs.

He took matches from his pocket and burned a few in an effort to start the fire. After the fourth attempt, the match caught the kindling aflame and the dry navy-colored log sluggishly caught fire as well. Like the fire in the Hotel lobby, this burned an eerie blue and very little warmth radiated from the flames.

The fire lit the petite cabin in its gloomy glow and Abigail saw it was a very small, simple place. There was a bench with two sleeping bags rolled up on it, a fireplace, wood and a couple short candles. Otherwise, there wasn’t much to see and barely any room to move about. It was close quarters again.

She walked over to the bench. “Are these yours?” she asked, motioning towards the sleeping bags.

Ishmael stood from the fire and walked over to her. “They belong to whichever Guide is staying here for the night, so I suppose they are.”

He unrolled the bags, shaking the dust from them. “I know this place is worse than the Hotel from last night.” He laid the bags on the floor by the fire and brushed them off with his hand. “But I think it’s preferable to being vulnerable in the open.”

Abigail didn’t comment. The blue glow, the dusty bags and chilled air made her feel very homesick, but she didn’t want to complain.

He sat on the bench dejectedly. “Do you think I made the right decision?”

Abigail knew he was feeling bad about their situation, and she didn’t want to make it worse. “Of course. What other option do we have?” She sat next to him. “This is fine. Great, because I wasn’t eager to spend the rest of our currency. We can get some rest, wait while the fog clears and night passes and continue on. Ignore me. I’m just hungry and tired.”