Shadowed Soul (16 page)

“Recession,” I mumbled.  “Not enough work coming in.”  I could not believe I was already lying to my wife again.  My pervasive companion ran through the snow, giggling and squealing like an imbecile as he rushed me and grasped the nape of my neck.  I weaved, then heaved.

“You okay?” asked Beth, very concerned.  Bailey ran up and licked me as I bent over facing my boots, hyperventilating with dry heaves.

“Yeah.”  I caught my breath.  “I’m just feeling like maybe I’m coming down with something.”

“Let’s get you home, honey,” said Beth reassuringly, and clicked at Bailey to proceed.

The Shadowed Soul was coming home with us, too.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

It was almost midnight and I sat on the bed and watched as Beth continued to coo and fuss over the baby.  Jonathan had barely stopped screeching and so the unveiling of gifts had essentially been ruined. Through the baby’s intermittent squalling, presents had been opened quickly.  Dorothy had handed Beth the last gift under the tree, mine to Beth.  I was eager to see what I had bought her.  Jonathan’s keening did not help me remember, that is for sure.

“Beth, from your husband,” said Dorothy passing Beth a 5”x5” box in a robin’s egg blue box with a red ribbon.  “
Oooh
, looks like
Tiffany and Company
wrapping!”  Dorothy winked at Beth.  Had I gone to
Tiffany
?  I wondered.  I still could not recall one store from my barrage of shopping while I had been in my hypo-manic state.

The baby writhed and screamed more on Beth’s lap as she untied the red satin ribbon then slowly tipped up the lid of the box to poke around inside.  Jonathan screamed again just as Beth’s expression fell in irritation.

“Is it from
Tiffany
?” pressed Dorothy.

“No,” Beth replied flatly, gathering box and baby.  “I’ll change his diapers.”  It was still hard for her to stand with ease, due to her surgery, but she quickly left the room avoiding eye contact with any of us.

“Beth, shall I take the baby so you can enjoy your gift?” asked Dorothy, pushing up from her chair. 

“No,” said Beth, then softened.  “No, thank you, mom.  All set.  Be right back.”  Beth gave me a strange look, like maybe I should have offered to change Jonathan’s diaper. 

“What’s in the box, Thomas?” asked Pete inquisitively, over the din of Jonathan.  Beth headed down the hall carrying the box and Jonathan who screamed all the way till she shut the door to the bedroom.

“Blessed silence without that child to break the Christmas cheer,” whispered the Shadowed Soul.

“What did you say?” asked Dorothy, surprised.  I pretended not to hear her question, even though I was totally aware of how churlish my attitude was.  But my quiet joy had been monopolized by the shattering noise of this tiny individual.

“Maybe Beth needs a hand?” suggested Pete picking up on the sudden tension.  I realized he meant me.  I seized the opportunity to avoid further conflict.

“Need help?”  I hollered nonchalantly as I headed down the hall after Beth.

Jonathan’s screams stung as I closed the bedroom door behind me.  He kicked and thrashed so much that Beth had to grip his ankles like a strung chicken as she wiped him down.  It did not occur to me to offer to help and Jonathan continued to scream and squirm.

“The child sensed your happiness and wanted to spoil it,” muttered the Shadowed Soul.

“Shut up,” I snapped at the Shadowed Soul.

“What?” asked Beth, astonished, as she struggled with Jonathan.

“Not you,” I replied irascibly, noticing the robin’s egg blue box stuffed alongside rash creams and diapers in the top drawer of the changing table on which Beth wrangled with Jonathan.

“You’re telling our baby to
shut up
?” asked Beth in disbelief.

“No, I--” I could not explain.  Beth shook her head, keeping her full attention on Jonathan’s diaper.

“See!” whispered the Shadowed Soul in his weird mental telepathy so Beth could not hear him this time.  “That kid is totally stealing your thunder with the chick, man.”  I nodded.  I had to agree with him. 

“Beth, I just don’t understand why we adults have abandoned our Christmas in order to crowd around an infant,” I said.  Beth glanced at me with fire in her eyes.

“Ummmm, I’m sorry, I
forgot
,” said Beth sarcastically.  “Baby Jesus never cried or had a diaper change.” 

“I know the message of Christmas, Beth, but Jonathan
acts
like he’s the only person in the house!”

“He’s a baby!” defended Beth snarling like a mother bear. “He can not control his
act
ions, Thomas.  That’s what
adults
do.” Be the adult, I thought miserably embarrassed.

“Beth, surely, it would be good to let him cry sometimes,” I said logically.  “So he’ll learn it will take more than screeching to get his way.”  I judged as Beth preened and nursed the squalling mess. 

“He had a poop, Thomas!” snapped Beth.  “Maybe you could offer to change him next time.”

Today can’t get worse, I thought.

“Ah, but it will,” whispered the Shadowed Soul cloyingly.

“I think it’d be best if Jonathan sleeps with us tonight,” Beth announced.  “My parents would love a full night’s sleep for a change.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.  It was unfair, and although it made no logical sense to me, a part of me believed that this whimpering child had maneuvered the situation so that I would not be able to spend another moment alone with his mother.

“Why are you making this decision without consulting me?” I demanded, attacking with question after question.  Why couldn’t the baby sleep in his grandparent’s room?  I found Beth’s eagerness to avoid another night alone with me to be insulting.  We had had such a romantic morning that I wanted to make love to my wife again.  How could I fulfill my desire with a crying baby in the same room?

Beth ignored me as she nursed our son to sleep rocking in the chair she had parked deliberately right in front of the changing table.

And so when it came time for bed I helped Pete moved the crib from their room into Beth’s room.  Awkwardly, we all said good night and before I went to bed I excused myself to the kitchen and sat next to Bailey for half an hour. Relieved to be with my non-judgmental friend, I happily presented him with the chew bone I had bought him and he had accepted it with quiet grace.

“I missed you, boy,” I said as I stroked Bailey.  Before I turned in for the night, I watched a contented tableau of Bailey’s gentle mouth gnawing the soft rubber chew bone on the floor of the kitchen, cozily lit by the blue glow of the coffee maker.

Exhausted from my feeding frenzy of emotions, I climbed into bed expectantly hoping Beth would be up for a repeat of this morning’s glory.  Thankfully the child had quieted down allowing me to think more clearly.  Finally the baby gave up his personal struggle to stay awake. Grateful for restored silence, I was faced with the resolution of Beth’s bee in her bonnet.  Since she had rushed off to diaper the screaming baby, she had not mentioned my robin’s egg blue gift box. 

“So, the box wasn’t from
Tiffany and Company
,” said Beth without a drop of joy in her voice.  Part of me was terrified of how the conversation would proceed.  I made a conscious choice not to step into a mine field, and remained silent.  She knew I could not afford gifts from a place like that.

“You look beautiful, Beth,” I attempted.  But, she ignored me. 

I wish I knew what was in that stupid fucking box, chasm of sinister mystery.  I had bought the presents with such wanton abandon.  I questioned my sanity even more than I usually do.  Why could I not recall? Beth gave me no clues and I was afraid to ask.  She had appeared to be neither delighted nor reviled.  Her demeanor had just changed imperceptibly. Somehow Beth was suddenly stealthier and more observant.  I felt it because I knew her better that I knew myself. And so as we sat making small talk about the baby, I gave myself up and steadied my heart for whatever confrontation was going to happen next.  It was around midnight.  Beth stood up and gently covered the baby in his crib, fussing to ensure that he was warm but not too hot, and all I could do was watch.

“Thomas, I need to go to sleep,” Beth announced in a voice that held neither accusation nor rancor.  Surely she was not trying to torture me but I sensed this mystery would not be solved this evening. “It’s been such a long day.  My eyes feel like they are made of cement.”

“Okay.”  Was all I could say as she climbed into bed beside me in her day clothes.

“Sometimes when I'm holding him as he drops off to sleep it's like I get sleepy by osmosis,” said Beth planting a kiss gingerly on my forehead.

“I get the impression that you want to talk about something, Beth,” I said.

“I do but I don't know if tonight’s the right time,” said Beth.  “I need to process a few things and I'm tired and maybe had a little too much to drink.”

“Yeah, your eggnog dance was pretty terrifying,” I said laughing a little.  My head was feeling woozy and I needed sleep but I also knew that the chances were I would never sleep tonight until I knew what was in the box.  I could wait until Beth fell asleep and forage through the diaper drawer where she had stashed it.  “Beth I need to tell you something and it's going to sound really weird, but your last gift, well the thing is I don't remember buying it. I know that sounds crazy but when I'm like
that
, you know, the way I’ve been over the past few months, my actions feel disjointed, as though they are being completed by two different people at slightly different times, and, and, and that is a scary thing for me.  But it's something that I have learned to deal with.  But the fact that I bought you a gift and I don't know what it is, well, that scares me, Beth.”

“Thomas, honey, and it scares me a bit, too,” ventured Beth cautiously.  “I don't know what that present meant and I am confused by it.”

“Please, Beth, please tell me what was in the box,” I implored her.

For the first time since she had opened the box I saw her frown and she looked at me with a worried expression for a long and loaded moment.

“You honestly have no idea?” asked Beth.

“No, I'm truly sorry, I don't,” I replied truthfully. 

Beth nodded patiently and moved over to the diaper changing table to open the top drawer.  She brought out the robin’s egg blue box and handed it to me. For what felt like a millennium I stared at the lid.  Did I really want to know what was in this box? What the hell was wrong with me?  When I opened the box my heart sank.

The shiny object glinted in the lamplight and I stared in disbelief. I could feel Beth looking at me but I could not bring myself to turn and face her. My brain raced as I tried to work out where I had bought these.  I had no recollection of going to a shop that sold them. Had I bought them online?  Had I bought more than one pair?  And to whom would I have given it?  Pete?  My brain ached as I tried to recall.  How was it that the Shadowed Soul could control me as a puppet? These things should never have been brought into this house.  They should never have been given to my beautiful wife and yet I had.

“Why did you buy them?” asked Beth curiously, without a trace of accusation.

“I'm sorry,” I said. 

“Don't be sorry. I just want to know why you bought them, Thomas.  Is this a joke?”

“Beth…” I grasped, lost for words.

“I'm not angry, honey, I promise, I just want to understand why you bought them.”

With a clang of metal, I placed the cardboard box and its contents on the bed and turned away so my back was to Beth.  Infantility was my only way to deal with this. This was terrifying in so many ways and all I wanted to do was to escape, to get away from this hellish ordeal I had caused.  I heard the rattle as Beth picked up the box, followed by the soft rustle of tissue paper as she removed the object from inside.  I did not want to see my beautiful wife holding them.

“Did you want me to put them on?” asked Beth quietly, without a hint of seductiveness.  Just matter-of-fact statement.

“No,” I replied, ashamed.

“I don't mind if you do, Thomas, if it's what you want, I'll wear them sometime for you?”

“Beth, please don't…”

“Then why did you buy them?  Thomas, you know that I love you and I will do whatever I can to please you.  I mean, these aren't so bad really, I just wish that you had given me them this morning when we were in here alone because I can't wear them now because the noise will wake the baby.  But any other time, I will if you want me to.”

I slowly turned my head to my wife my gentle princess holding handcuffs looked at me with a patient, bewildered expression. The very idea that my online fantasy world had somehow managed to infiltrate my real life was terrifying to me.  I could not understand what part of me would have bought a pair of handcuffs and given them to Beth.  I also did not recall searching BDSM images online at work.  I felt sick, I felt as though I had somehow fallen out of step with the world and could only watch from behind a thick window.  I wanted to explain to Beth that these meant nothing and that they were a joke.  But in truth these handcuffs, instruments of bondage and restraint, were symbolic of violent fantasies of which I was not proud. Beth and I had never been boring lovers.  We had done things with each other that had made our souls sing with passion; such swirling colorful expressions of love for each other made perfect sense. My sordid online excursions held no place in my time with Beth.  And the idea that the Shadowed Soul was so prominent within me that I could buy something that was designed to restrain my wife sickened me in ways I could barely comprehend.

“Thomas, if you want to tie me up all you have to do is ask.  It might be fun?”

“No, Beth, it won't be fun.”  My voice raised an octave into panic.  “Why would I want to make you helpless?”