Читать книгу Twenty-Four Shadows - Tanya J. Peterson - Страница 8

Chapter 1

“Daddy!” With a running leap, Dominic hurled himself at the man entering the backyard.

“Hey, who’s this?” Isaac struggled to catch both the little boy and his own balance. Dominic giggled gleefully.

“Daddy, it’s me! Dominic. Here, I axident’ly knocked off your glasses, but I catched them. I’ll put ’em back on so you can see me.” Sticky fingers clutching the lenses rather than the frame, Dominic shoved the glasses hard onto Isaac’s face. “There. Is that better? Can you see me now?”

“Maybe it’s time to switch to contacts, man. Might even give you half a chance against me on the tennis court.” Max slapped Isaac lightly on the back as he brushed past him and strode into the yard.

Isaac rolled his eyes at his best friend’s retreating back and adjusted his glasses with his free hand. “Yes, Tiger, it’s better now. Thank you.” Isaac whooshed his son into the air and studied him. “I can see you, and I can see that you’re already dressed. It’s only eight o’clock. What’s the hurry? Is it a special day or something?” He swung Dominic back down toward him and held him close as he walked toward Max and the two women standing in the middle of the yard.

“Daddy! Did you forget? It’s my birthday today and I’m having a big party and me, you, and Max are gonna make an obstacle course so let’s get to it!” Dominic wriggled loose and jumped down to the ground. “C’mon!”

Isaac laughed. “Of course I remember. I need some time to change and talk party stuff with Mommy. Can you play in your sandbox for a while? I won’t take long, I promise.” He bit his lip to keep from laughing as he watched Dominic huff out a breath of air and cross his arms tightly over his chest, then pucker the muscles of his face together in the expression that Isaac always joked was his look of either deep concentration or serious constipation.

“Maybe. Can I use the hose?”

“It’s your birthday, right?” Dominic nodded vigorously. Isaac noted that Dominic’s arms remained folded across his chest. Clearly, his son meant business. Isaac couldn’t help it; he laughed. “Well, then of course we’ll let you use the hose.”

“Yes!” Dominic loosened his arms and pumped a fist in victory. Isaac watched him run off. An almost-overwhelming feeling of love swelled inside of him, beginning in his chest and radiating up to his head and down to his toes.

“Hey, Tiger?” He waited until Dominic turned in his direction. “Happy birthday.”

“Thanks, Daddy. I’m five today!” He raised a hand, all five fingers outstretched, into the air and in one graceful motion swooped down to pick up the hose.

As Isaac watched Dominic drag it to the sandbox, he threw an arm around his wife and pulled her close. “Ready for today, Reese?” He kissed the top of her head.

Reese drew back slightly, but Isaac noted that she didn’t remove her arms from around his waist. He used the opportunity to pull her against him again. Not resisting his pull, Reese only half-heartedly complained, “Isaac. You’re still sweaty from tennis.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I still love you.”

Max’s voice abruptly reminded Isaac that he, Reese, and Dominic weren’t the only ones in the yard. “All right, Gretchen, my dear wife, time to test your love for me.”

“Don’t touch me, Max.”

“Ouch. Hurtful.”

Isaac watched Gretchen roll her eyes. He wondered about that. Such an interaction and gesture could be taken as playful, but he didn’t quite get that vibe just now. With her wrinkled nose and her swift step backward, Gretchen seemed truly disgusted. Sure, a sweaty white t-shirt stuck Saran Wrap style to a man probably wasn’t drop-dead sexy, and Max’s smell of victory was more pungent than fragrant. However, Isaac looked and smelled the same, other than the fact that his was the smell of defeat, and Reese wasn’t repulsed. Perhaps it wasn’t Gretchen’s reaction that was odd; it seemed quite fitting. Maybe it was Reese whose reaction was strange.

That same sensation of love he’d felt for Dominic moments before surged through him again. Reese was a remarkable woman. He’d known that from the moment he laid big, goofy eyes on her just over ten years ago. He had just graduated from college and was working where he still worked to this day, the Cascades Conifers, a minor league triple-A baseball team not quite creatively named after evergreen trees native to the Cascade Mountains, which themselves were, like him, native to Oregon. Isaac had worked for the team throughout his university years, actually. He had been hired as their mascot and spent much of his summers either in Portland State University classrooms or inside a tree costume on a baseball field in suburban Portland. During his senior year, he had interned with the organization as part of his degree in business administration. His successful internship segued into a career with the team—in the office rather than in a costume. For a few years, every now and then, he still played the role of mascot, and the night he met Reese, he was prancing around the stadium as an uprooted evergreen tree.

He encountered her during one of the between-inning activities designed for fan participation. As the mascot, he was supposed to stir up excitement for these games by acting wacky and messing with the contestants. He was romping around as the activity crew readied two fans for a spirited game of tug-o-war. His plan was to run back and forth between the two, picking up the length of rope behind each of them and pretending to pull on it but acting like it was too hard. When the game began, he careened over and then came to a screeching halt. Two women faced off, one of whom was the most naturally beautiful woman he had ever had the privilege to blatantly stare at from the safety of a tree’s interior. The way she smiled and laughed as she tugged on the rope nearly brought him to his knees. The game was short-lived, the beautiful woman won, and the crowd cheered. Had he not been hidden in a gigantic costume, he never would have had the guts to do what he did. He rushed over, grabbed her hand and raised it up in victory, like a referee does to a winning boxer, before looping her arm in the crook of his branch and skipping around, presenting her to the crowd, which cheered more loudly than before. As he returned the woman to her friend, he asked her if she would meet him at the gate after the game. She shrugged, cocked her head, smiled broadly, and said, “Maybe.”

The remainder of the game had moved so slowly that Isaac didn’t think he could stand it. He was so nervous, both that she wouldn’t show up and that she would, that he very nearly threw up all over the inside of the costume. Thankfully he hadn’t, which made it easier for him to clean up and make himself look—hopefully—halfway decent. When he approached the gate and saw her waiting for him, his heart soared.

Today, on the morning of their son’s fifth birthday, Isaac joyfully hugged Reese, the victorious tug-o-war contestant who was willing to meet him and give him a chance. He kissed her head again, then said reluctantly, “Well, I suppose I’d better go in and get cleaned up. Max, go home and do the same, and do it quickly. We’ve got a party to prepare.”

“Yes, Max. Go shower,” Gretchen grumped. “I’ll stay and give Reese a hand in the kitchen. Oh, and don’t wake up Elise. She finally fell asleep. I can’t believe she woke us up at four.” She paused; Isaac mused that Gretchen’s silence contained as much impatient irritation as her voice. “God, Max, don’t look so shocked.” She wiggled a receiver in the air. “I didn’t leave her unsupervised. I’m listening for her. This thing’s got a great range, and we’re just next door.” Without waiting for a response, she turned to Reese and said, “Come on. We’ve got Jigglers to cut.”

Isaac studied the stunned expression on his friend’s face. He elbowed Max lightly and said, “Go check on your little one. Bring her over when you come back. See you shortly.”

#

Four hours later, Isaac stood in the center of the backyard. With Dominic in the house with Reese, Isaac took the opportunity to enjoy a few final peaceful moments before the yard was overrun by overzealous preschoolers in frantic search of a sugar rush. He inhaled deeply and surveyed his surroundings. Fifty colorful helium-filled balloons, individually tied to various objects, danced gently in the light breeze. Fifty. Reese’s logic behind the number had been that fifty balloons equaled ten balloons for every year of Dominic’s life. The math did make sense; however, Isaac still puzzled over the logic behind it. It didn’t matter to him, though. Dominic deserved a fun, lively birthday party, and Reese deserved to design it for him. Isaac attempted to smile at the idea of his wife, son, and the balloons, but he couldn’t quite muster one.

His inability to smile had nothing at all to do with his love for them. He loved them both fiercely, and the swelling in his heart just this morning was one of his favorite feelings in the world. Too frequently, that sensation of warmth and tenderness seemed to seep through every pore and slither off to some unknown dark place. The loving sensations were always, always present in his mind. He could think about his love, and he knew intellectually that it was strong and deep, but he couldn’t always feel that love. He often worried that he was depressed. It did seem quite fitting, but it also kind of didn’t make much sense. He knew that he should be happy. And he was happy, at least on a cognitive level. He hated it when the feelings were stuck in his head and wouldn’t spill out into the rest of him. Stupid, selfish brain. Isaac didn’t just hate the experience. He hated himself for it. Plain and simple, he was unworthy. That’s why he couldn’t feel love sometimes; he wasn’t meant to feel it. Throughout his life, even stretching way back into his childhood, there had been something off about him, but he couldn’t pinpoint exactly what. Well, that wasn’t fully true; he was off because he was a bad person. He didn’t know why he was so awful, he didn’t mean to be awful, and he tried to hide it from the world. He wanted to be good, so he pretended to be, but he worried that people, especially Reese and Dominic and maybe even Max and Gretchen, could see right through him to his rotten core.

His rotten core flew into the air with the rest of him when Max grabbed both of his shoulders from behind and shouted, “Put on your party hat, and let’s get this party started!” When Isaac just looked at him as he attempted to calm his pounding heart and regain his ability to breathe properly, Max instructed, “Seriously. Put on your party hat,” and proceeded to hand him a pointy paper hat with fire trucks on it. Isaac yanked it out of Max’s hand, strapped it on, and glared at him. “Don’t glare at me. You should thank me for making you look festive.” Max laughed. Isaac sighed.

“Actually, the yard is what looks festive. Thanks for your help, Max. I think the best is that obstacle course.” Isaac nodded toward the course that began in the far corner, extended to the swing set, through the sandbox, and looped around and through various hoops, jump ropes, balls, and a sprinkler. “You did an amazing job with that. The kids will love it. I mean, you completely ignored my plan and did what you wanted to do, but I can’t even complain about it because this is fantastic.”

“Uh, what?”

“The obstacle course.” Isaac gestured. “It’s great. I’m impressed with what you did.”

“Dude. What are you talking about?” Isaac took in Max’s perplexed expression and mirrored it with what he assumed was his own equally bemused look.

“What do you mean, what am I talking about? You made an obstacle course. I like it. What don’t you understand about that?”

Max shook his head. “Knock it off, Isaac. Is that your way of bragging? Just say that you think you outdid yourself in making that course.”

Isaac felt his mouth open to speak, but it took a few moments for words to form and work their way out. “Max. Seriously. I didn’t make the obstacle course. I assumed you did.” When Max said nothing, Isaac continued, “I didn’t make that, Max. Don’t you think I’d remember doing it?”

Max shook his head. “Whatever, Isaac. I’m telling you, you made the course. Hold on.” He jogged away. Isaac remained rooted to the spot and narrowed his eyes as he studied the yard. He swore he hadn’t built that course, but if he hadn’t built it, what had he been doing all of this time? He glanced around. He didn’t remember inflating or tying or placing the balloons. He didn’t remember setting up the tables and tablecloths for the art activities. He didn’t remember stringing up the piñata. He didn’t remember arranging the patio furniture for cake time. And he still didn’t remember making the damn obstacle course. What the hell had he been doing?

When Max returned with Reese’s phone, he immediately touched the screen and handed the phone to Isaac. “Look, man. Your wife took pictures of you making it. Here’s some of Dominic helping.” Max continued to swipe through the pictures. “And here’s a selfie she took of the two of you. You put the hula hoop around both of your heads. See? You may not be wearing your glasses, but that’s clearly you.” Isaac took the phone. He scrolled slowly through the images. The pictures clearly provided the undisputable evidence, but for the life of him, he couldn’t remember building the course or taking the selfie picture with Reese. He felt what must be the physical manifestations of shocked bewilderment: lightheadedness and nausea. Why didn’t he remember? He hated it when this happened. Although things like this had happened frequently throughout his life, he never grew accustomed to them, and they always frightened him. This was a perfect example of his badness. He couldn’t let Max know that he truly didn’t remember. God, what if he said something to Reese? No.

Isaac faked a grin as he punched Max in the shoulder. “Gotcha. Of course I built it. I was just messing with you.” With relief, he saw Dominic run to greet a friend. He nodded in their direction. “Looks like the party’s starting. Let’s go.” He glanced sideways at Max as they walked toward the patio, which served as the party hub. Thankfully, Max had dropped the subject of Isaac’s bizarre claim that he didn’t build the obstacle course.

From the moment they reached the patio, Isaac had no time to ruminate over his memory lapse or the fact that Max had caught him in one of his states of unknowing. Preschoolers poured into the yard, Dominic yanked on Isaac’s shirt, and they were all off and running. Isaac supervised the chaos and attempted to help the lot of preschoolers through the obstacle course he still couldn’t remember creating. Ten four- and five-year-olds squealed and clamored over each other as they pushed and shoved their way along the course. “Hey! Slow down! One at a time. Everyone will get a turn. Just wait. Whoa!”

He spun around at the sound of laughter behind him. “This is funny to you, is it?”

“Yes.” Reese slipped her arm around Isaac’s waist when she reached his side.

“I’m glad I can be a source of amusement to you.” He looked over his shoulder to redirect three fast-moving preschoolers. “You guys are going the wrong way! You’re supposed to start there,” he pointed to the far corner of the yard, “and then go through there first before you come over here.” He watched them continue to run in the same direction. “No!” Exasperated, he turned back to his wife. “This is out of control. How did I let this get out of hand in less than fifteen minutes?”

Reese reached up and ruffled his hair. “You didn’t ‘let’ it get out of control. This is in perfect control for a bunch of preschoolers at a party. That’s why we have different activities, remember? I’ll take half of them and make pet rocks. You play with the other half on the obstacle course. Sound good?”

“Sounds very good. You’re incredible, Reese.”

She laughed. “Don’t forget it.”

“Never!” Isaac leaned in and gave his wife a quick peck on the cheek before she led her rascals off to create critters. Then he turned to a more-manageable group of tots and got them going the right direction through the obstacles. Somehow Dominic managed to turn him into a troll that chased the “billy goats” through the forest. Endless peals of laughter told Isaac that this was a fun thing to do. Isaac himself wasn’t so sure. It made him feel a bit ill, actually. Even though in theory it should be the kids who were afraid, it was Isaac who felt the fear. Monsters chasing children were far from amusing, and the thought of him being one, even in pretend play, made his heart pound and his forehead bead with sweat. It was just a game, but he didn’t want to play it. Eventually, he caught Max’s attention and flagged him down.

“Need a hand over here?”

“Just a break. I saw you feeding Elise. Are you done? Where is she?” He looked across the yard at the rock-painting area. “Gretchen doesn’t have her.”

“Your mom has her.” Max nodded toward the patio. He answered Isaac’s unasked question, “She arrived just after Dominic dragged you out here.”

“Daddy! Why’d you stop being the troll? Be the troll again!” Dominic’s demand was born out of excitement rather than impatience. Isaac studied him, took in his big grin that revealed a mouth full of baby teeth, four of which Dominic erroneously insisted were loose; his sand-bespeckled shirt; and his dirty knees. Dominic wasn’t a baby anymore. He wasn’t a toddler. He wasn’t even really a preschooler anymore. He was becoming a big kid. How did he become five years old?

“Daddy! Come be our troll!”

As if planned, the rest of the group began to chant, “Be our troll! Be our troll! Be our troll!”

Exhaustion hit. Perhaps he shouldn’t have played tennis so intensely so early in the morning. He didn’t want to be the troll. The last thing he wanted to do was run around being an ugly monster chasing his son and his friends. But he didn’t want to let Dominic down.

Max cut in before Isaac had a chance to answer Dominic. “I think your dad needs a little break.”

“No!”

“How about if Uncle Max turns into the troll?” Isaac watched Max transform into his version of a troll: back hunched, legs wide and bent, arms raised above his head, fingers curled into claws, and naturally bald head finishing off the look. His roar was met with delighted squeals and defensive scampering. Max turned to Isaac, and in a menacing troll voice growled, “Get out of here, old man, before I eat you!”

Although he was more disturbed than amused, Isaac smiled at Max and turned toward the patio. His mother stood as he approached. Baby in one arm, she wrapped her other arm around Isaac and kissed his cheek. “Hello, Son. My, your own son is growing. I haven’t seen him in two months. I think he’s grown six inches.”

“Hi, Mom. We’re glad you could make it. I don’t think Dominic has grown six inches.”

“Okay, maybe not, but he sure is growing.” She looped her free arm through Isaac’s. “I remember when my own little boy was five. You were so adorable. Do you remember being five, honey?”

Isaac looked at her. He thought. “Mom. That was a long time ago. Almost thirty years.”

“Humph. Well, you may not remember, but I remember you at that age. And you were adorable. Just like Dominic.”

Isaac turned to watch his son. Isaac didn’t remember much about his childhood, but why would he? Like he told his mother, it was a long time ago. He wondered. Would Dominic remember much about his? Would he remember this party? Isaac hoped so. God. Why was he already five years old? It was probably irrational to think this way, but it seemed like Dominic’s true childhood was ending. The carefree days of preschool, where classes were small and the learning activities were tame and fun, where there were snack breaks and lots of play time, were over. In a few short weeks, Dominic would be in kindergarten. He was a big kid. Once Dominic blew out the five candles on his birthday cake, his innocence would blow away, too. With this thought, a crushing sadness descended upon Isaac, starting at the top of his head and washing down, down, stopping along the way at his throat, his head, his gut, and his knees to invade and raid the little energy they had left. It was a sadness so all-encompassing it made his head burn, as if his brain had gone up in flames to try to smoke out the dolefulness. He squeezed his eyes shut. He opened them, blinked, and looked around. He couldn’t take it. He needed to go inside before he fell apart. His mother called out to him as he shuffled away, but he couldn’t answer. He just kept walking, across the patio, onto the little covered deck, and through the door that led into his bedroom. After closing the shades so no one could see him, he lay on the bed and curled himself into a tight ball.

As it always did to him, the depression pressed down from every angle imaginable and, ruthless, it didn’t stop on the outside but penetrated him in every way possible. The result was an agonizing pain but an equally agonizing inability to move out of pain’s reach. As he mourned the loss of his sweet little boy, vague worries began to worm their way into his thoughts. The worries, feelings more than words, wiggled into the tiny spaces sloppily left by the depression when it settled in. He still didn’t have the energy to move, but the anxiety, always restless and unsatisfied, demanded it. He began to rock slightly.

He was too numb to jump and too sad to care when Reese burst into the room. “Isaac!” He didn’t answer. He heard Reese cross the room, sensed her presence on the edge of the bed, felt her hand touch his shoulder. It wasn’t until she moved her hand in circles then slid it gently up his face to push back his hair and feel his forehead that he opened his eyes.

“Hi, Reese,” he whispered.

“Honey, what’s wrong? You’re missing the party.”

He nodded. “I know.” It was another whisper.

“Do you think you can come back outside? Dominic is asking for you. Max and Gretchen are helping, but it would be nice to have you out there, too.”

“I don’t know.”

“Is it one of your headaches again? Can I get you something?”

“Yes. No. I mean, yes, my head hurts, but no, nothing ever helps.”

“Can you sit up?”

“I don’t know.”

“How about at least giving it a try, Isaac?”

Moving only his eyes, he studied her. She seemed a bit impatient, but not angry, and also concerned. He should be nice and sit up. With what felt like gargantuan effort, he unfurled his limbs, placed a hand on the bed, and pushed himself up to sit on the edge of the bed. He looked into Reese’s eyes. Hers bore into his with equal intensity. He leaned in and clung tightly to her. He closed his eyes with relief when she returned the embrace.

His eyes flew open. They darted around the room. Daylight. Shades closed. Reese in his arms. What in the world? What happened to the party? Where was everyone? Where was Dominic? Dominic! Where was he? Did something happen? He pulled back as he exclaimed, “Reese!”

“Isaac! What? What is it?”

“Dominic. His party. Dominic! What happened? Where is he? What—”

Reese threw her hands up, palms toward Isaac. “Stop! Isaac. What are you talking about? I have no idea what is going on with you right now. A minute ago you were despondent on the bed, barely saying a word. Suddenly you’re agitated and babbling frantically, asking questions that don’t even make sense. Honestly. I don’t understand what gets into you sometimes.” She sounded exasperated.

Isaac had no idea what to say or think or do. He had a question. “Is, um, is Dominic’s party still going on?” He was afraid of the answer. No matter what her answer would be, he was afraid of it.

“What do you think? Of course it’s still going on. And we miss you out there.” Isaac didn’t know how to decipher his wife’s attitude. Frustrated, perhaps? Irked? Probably irked; it was closer to anger than frustrated.

The only thing he managed to croak out was, “Okay.”

He watched Reese study him. He found it impossible to swallow, and he felt cold and clammy under the scrutiny of her judgment. And he was scared to death. First the obstacle course and now this—two glitches so close together had never happened before, and never so blatantly obvious to others, or so he hoped. These two today were particularly disconcerting. He waited uncomfortably for Reese to speak. His stomach churned as Reese slowly shook her head. He tensed. He couldn’t relax even when she began to play with his hair the way she liked to do. He needed, and dreaded, to hear what she had to say. He studied his wife, saw her part her lips to speak. When she began to talk, though, she was interrupted by the suddenly increased volume of the ever-present noise in his head, and he couldn’t hear her. There was so much talking and shouting and arguing and as usual it was a bunch of different-sounding voices clamoring to be heard but he couldn’t make out a single one or even a single word, including his wife’s. He hated it. He needed it to stop and he needed to hear Reese. He hunched forward, forehead practically on his knees, and threw his hands over his ears. “Shut up! Just shut up and leave me alone!” He had to shout to make his words heard above the others.

Reese leapt to her feet and now stood in front of him. “Isaac! How dare you tell me to shut up! I don’t have time to deal with this right now, and frankly I’ve had it with you. But this isn’t over. I’m going back outside. Join the party or don’t.”

“No! Reese! Stop. Please. I wasn’t talking to you. Really. Please!”

He looked up at the ceiling and blew out a breath of air when she actually stopped. Before she could change her mind and walk out the door, he spoke. “Please come back over here. I swear I wasn’t talking to you. I’d never in a million years tell you to shut up.”

“Really, Isaac? Then who were you talking to? Because I don’t know about you, but I sure as hell don’t see anyone else in this room.”

“No. I know there’s no one else in the room. I just meant the voices.”

Isaac watched Reese’s mouth open. Even though she had already been standing still, she seemed to somehow grow more still. Several seconds passed before she narrowed her eyes and cocked her head slightly to one side. “What do you mean? What voices, Isaac?” Her voice was low and her words came more slowly than usual. Isaac was unnerved.

“Uh, you know, just…voices. The ones that are just there in our minds and get too loud from time to time. Like the music. You know. Those.”

Reese remained where she was. Isaac remained seated on the bed. He kept watching her, worrying and wondering what was going through her head. The fact that she didn’t seem to understand what he was talking about scared him. He was sick of feeling scared today. He jumped slightly when she finally spoke. “I actually don’t know anything about voices. I’ve never heard voices. Or music.”

Isaac sat up straight. He felt his eyes widen in surprise. “You haven’t?”

Reese returned to her spot beside him on the edge of the bed. “I think the real question,” she said quietly, “is ‘you have?’”

“Well…yeah.”

“Since when?”

Isaac shrugged. “I don’t know.” He paused as he thought. “Since forever, I suppose. I don’t remember not hearing them. I’ve never really thought about them, I guess, because they’ve always been there. I don’t ever fully pick up what they’re saying; I just hear chattering or arguing or laughing or crying or other stuff in the background sometimes. But sometimes they’re quiet. Other times I hear music, but like the voices, it’s vague.” He shrugged again. “I assumed it was just part of the human mind. I thought everyone heard voices and music like that.”

Reese shook her head slowly. “Honey, I don’t hear those things, and I don’t know what any of this has been about. Frankly, I’m more than a little concerned. But I don’t think that right now is the time to explore everything. I really have to get back out to Dominic and his party. What do you want to do?”

“I want to join you.”

“Good. Let’s go.” She studied him, then took his hand in hers. “People are going to wonder what we’re doing in here with the shades drawn.” When she kissed him and said, “I’d like to give them something to speculate about, but I suppose we’d better wait for tonight,” Isaac finally relaxed. Hand intertwined with Reese’s, he headed back out to his son’s birthday party.