<DIR>

The Meeting

</DIR>

Chap 3

A freight train of noise cuts through my solitude, pushing against me while my body automatically struggles from off-balance to safety. My heart races as I turn to face the sound's onslaught.

I realize that this time the sound of brakes squealing is not in my head. A car plows to a stop, it's horn blaring, lights blinding. A shadowy figure gets out as the sound of the horn fades. "What the hell do you think you are doing?" The voice is familiar, nagging at my memory, until the figure steps around the car door and into the reflected light. My beautiful, blond, almost my age, grandmother. Great, just what I needed. I turn my back on her and again step to the edge. I shrug, so what if someone sees me take the final step.

My love is still calling me. "Brady!, damn it Brady don't do it." I shake my head, that doesn't sound like my dear one. I lean into the wind. My wrist is suddenly shackled and I look down to see it gripped tightly by a small hand pulling, pulling me away from my love. I roughly shake her off and push her away. She trips over the rough rocks, falling back against the railing. Again I turn to the sound of the water. Soon, my love, I'll be with you soon.

Something strikes the back of my legs and I find myself motionless, staring at the moon peering through the clouds. A voice kneels next to me as I struggle for breath. "You'll have to take me with you." It sounds almost like a plea and briefly, I'm tempted. I push myself up to a sitting position and stare at the blood trickling from her cheek. Caused no doubt by the fall I had pushed her into. I raise my hand to touch it and she flinches back. "You're bleeding." She touches the face that graced magazine covers. "Shit. So what are you going to do about it?" I shrug my shoulders. I don't plan on being around long enough to find out.

Breathing normally again I rise to my feet only to find my arm once again in her grasp. She holds tightly with both arms wrapped around mine. The soft feel of her breast against the back of my arm sends surges of pain through me as memories unbidden arise. A tense, "Either take me with you or get your butt on the other side of the guardrail," brings me back to the present. It seems I have no choice as pushing her away again would likely mean another cut for her or worse.

Wait for me my love.

 

<DIR>

Firm Ground

</DIR>

Chap 4

Finally, finally he's moving away from the dizzying edge, taking me with him. I hold tightly as he steps over the railing. Waiting until he is on the other side before going over myself. I don't have the strength to stop him if he tries again. His gaze rests remorsefully on the water. It's pull is so strong on him. I have to get him out of here.

"Where's your car?" I can't let him drive home himself but how did he get up here? After a long silence he whispers, "Down there." Oh god, I didn't know that they hadn't been able to pull it out. "I hitched a ride," he continues, his voice raspy. His eyes are shiny in the moonlight, tears I think. Don't feel, I tell myself. Don't let yourself feel his pain, you can't afford it. I push against him, willing him to move toward my car. "Get in, I'll drive you home." I reach in through the open window and unlock the door, then open it. I leave him standing by the passenger side as I get in the other. I wait. He is immobile.

I start the car and he turns his head. I wait some more. Shivers run through me and I close my eyes and I remember standing next to the black abyss, my feet frozen, my head spinning against the pull of gravity. It was so high, so similar to….no, I don't want to remember the last time I feared for my life at the top of a cliff. But I can still hear the lapping of the water as he decided whether to lead both of us over the edge. I almost wish he had. The seat sags as he slides in. As I look at his slumped form I realize I don't know how to deal with this.

I understand now that he probably hasn't driven since the accident. I turn the station on the radio searching for something quiet, soothing. As I pull onto the empty road my clock's blue face says 3 AM.

 

<DIR>

The Drive

</DIR>

Chap 5

I get into her car as she rolls up the windows. She looked so stricken when I told her where my jeep was. I don't bother to tell her I haven't driven a car since that night. This was the first time I have come back here, to where it happened. I had planned on it being my last.

I expect her to chatter at me like Belle would. Asking questions, prodding, goading, but she sits silently, guiding the swift car with ease around the curves. We are hours out of Salem. I wonder what she is doing on this lonesome stretch of road at this hour but the words are too heavy to speak. The road straightens and the headrest is soft. Lulled by the rhythmic nothingness, I sleep.

The sound of the car door closing, seeps into my awareness. My eyes take in the site of a convenience store with little curiosity. My shoulders are cramped and as I flex them I see her swing out through the doors. The wafting scent of hotdogs stir me from my solemnence and my stomach gives a loud growl. She laughs at my embarrassment, but that doesn't stop me from hungrily eating and slurping down the coke she provides. I'm sure she doesn't know that this is the first meal that I can actually remember tasting for weeks. Of course the sauerkraut may have something to do with it.

She wipes a streak of mustard from her lips. "Where do we go from here?" I have no idea what she means. "Where should I take you?" I give a simple answer. "Home" She stares at me and makes an impatient gesture. Why isn't she driving? I don't want to sit in this car any longer. I want to be alone. "Well?" I stare blankly at her not knowing what she is asking. "You'll have to tell me how to get there. I don't know where you live."

I reach for the door handle, "I'll walk." Her surprisingly strong grip again fastens on my arm. "Not on your life Buster. You're not getting out of my sight until I know you are safe. I really should take you to your parents. A disbelieving snort escapes me, she really does think of me as a kid. She gives me a long stare. I'm not sure what she sees banked in my eyes but she gives me a short nod, "Right. Your place then."

"I'll let you tuck me in." The words slip out before I can bite my tongue but cause no reaction as she backs out of the parking space. I can hope she didn't hear me. As she follows my directions through the empty streets I have plenty of time to think over my rash words.

 

<DIR>

The Loft

</DIR>

Chap 6

I don't think he expects me to follow him up to his apartment, but I'm not about to let him off in the parking lot. I need to know that he simply won’t turn around, walk into the street and catch another ride back to the cliff from the morning traffic. I've spent too much energy getting him here. Besides, I'm curious.

The elevator hums as it ascends. The mood is even more uncomfortable than it was in the car. When the doors open, I quickly step out before he can push a button and send me back to the ground floor. Resignedly he leads the way down a short hall ending with a strange sliding door. Again he looks at me, willing me to go away, then sighing, he slides open the unlocked door.

"I see you've got state of the art security here." The snide comment rolls off my tongue before I realize that he'd seen no reason to safeguard his possessions as he hadn't planned on coming back. My next comment, "And a first class mess too", I'm able to keep to myself. Dishes are piled high in the sink and on the counter. Across most surfaces is spread a variety of paper plates and remains from take-out food joints. A slight stench of food, sweat, and above all, despair makes my nose twitch.

My companion makes his way slowly to the couch, sits and stares at the black screen of the TV. His posture is habitual. I can't believe his family has let his depression get this far. Where in the hell are they? Then I remember the funeral. Attending out of familial obligation I had watched him shake hands, greet guests and friends, and commiserate with his sister Belle. He had consoled Nancy and Craig and chucked Chloe's new born sister gently under the chin. A perfect picture of someone who was coping. I must be the only one who knows he's not.

She hadn't lived here, not that I know of anyway, but her presence decorates the room. A graduation picture of her and his sister Belle. Were they even going together then? Phillip was always bugging me for advice about her but I had known for a long time that Brady was head over heels for her too. I wonder when he told her. Some time before my godforsaken wedding I'm sure. That evening's memory is so frazzled what with Colin dying and Victor threatening. The one thing that stands out is Brady and Chloe's happiness, their togetherness. I was so envious when they came up and congratulated me.

A small piano is backed up against one wall. A fresh rose in a vase adorns its empty polished top, incongruous in the clutter overwhelming the rest of the room. I'd heard that Chloe was musical, is Brady too? He hasn't moved since he sat down. I walk over and stand in front of him with no response.

"Brady." I shake his shoulder, "Brady!" He tenses as he sees me there, he must have forgotten I was even in the room. "Where's your bed?" Now that gets a reaction from him, not much, just a narrowing of the eyes. "You said something about needing someone to tuck you in?" Yes, that really kicks some life into him. Even though I've goaded him into action I'm not prepared for the menace he exudes as he stands up. His presence pushes me back as he heads for the stairs. "Let yourself out."

 

<DIR>

In Darkness

</DIR>

Chap 7

I don’t want to be here. She’s here, my love’s essence is everywhere. A snowglobe sits in isolation on my nightstand, a gift she gave me. I sit on the bed remembering the pleasurable pastimes we spent before, before I killed her.

I wouldn’t be here if that harpy hadn’t been driving by at that moment. What unkind fate linked our paths tonight? I’d heard the door slam shut as I reached the top of the stairs. It felt good that I had rattled her cage. She had deliberately goaded me with that last comment about tucking me in bed. I could see it in her eyes, the lift of her eyebrows, the suggestive lilt to her voice. I bet she had savored that tongue tripping remark I had made all through town just thinking of how she could use it to push me.

Push me to what? To react? To think instead of feel? Because I am thinking. Thinking of what I almost did. Would I have chickened out for that final step or was I chickening out now for not facing life without my love? I don’t want to embrace life, it would be so much easier to embrace death.

Without enthusiasm I pull my shirt off over my head, wincing as a sleeve pulls against my wrist. A closer look shows that I’m bleeding from one of several moon shaped marks where the shirt has pulled off a half formed scab.

I undress and head to the shower. I need another new bar of soap. I’ve lost track of how much I’ve used. I can’t seem to scrub out the smell. It overwhelms me at night, brackish water, decaying fish, greasy oil. My skin is almost raw from previous attempts to wash away the stench, but tonight I leave the soap in its dish. As I stand leaning against the smooth wall of tile, feeling the droplets beat against my skin, I can only smell rainwater on damp leather seats.

 

<DIR>

In Light

</DIR>

Chap 8

Damn him! Damn him! I slam the door shut with enough force to rattle my teeth. Who the hell does he think he is? I saved him from killing himself and this is the thanks I get. Will the damn elevator ever get here? While I’m waiting I search my purse. Shit! No car keys.

Great, I can’t leave the car here, Victor would find out. I must have left them in the loft. God, I hope he’s still upstairs.

Lucky for me the door is still unlocked. I sneak back in like a thief, finding my keys on the piano, when emanations of his despair seep into me. I back toward the door and even have my hand on the door handle but I can’t close my eyes to the need. Upstairs I hear the sound of a shower starting.

What the hell am I thinking. I’m not my mother, a miss goody two shoes if there ever was one, but still my feet lead me to the kitchen. A look under the sink produces a package of garbage bags. I furtively cram trash into one of them while I fill the sink with soapy water. I can’t believe I’m doing this but after a few quick swipes at least the plates and silverware are useable again. I stack them wet. That’s it, that’s all I’m doing, I’m getting dishwater hands already.

The shower noise suddenly stops and I fly. This time I have everything as I slide the door closed behind me. I’m actually in a jaunty mood as I lean against the elevator side and feel the floor drop beneath my feet. It lasts until I step outside and see that the sun is shining. How can it be so late?

That's a really great story, Jablea!  I'm a huge Bricole fan so I'd love to see you continue to work on this story and post the rest of it.  I see you haven't posted in several months but I really hope you continue with this one - it has such potential!  Pleeeeeease keep writing!!

 

~Heather