Outlier, Chapter 15 (preview)
A/N: Please accept my offering of this wee preview. I'll try my darndest to post the rest from the road.
Chapter 15, Part 1
It had been 34 days since he’d last stood in front of Luke Snyder’s door.
Reid was no more ready now.
He could see lights inside the house, movement, the impressions of shapes pressing through the shutter slats. Reid had sidestepped pools of light to stand submerged in darkness next to a potted pine. Or perhaps a fir. Reid had already reasoned that four months earlier it had likely been festooned with bourgeois cheer - disproportionate bulbs, limb-strangling flash, misplaced toys. Forensic examination had revealed a smatter of cowlicks winking with rogue sparkle. The abused bark could have been evidence of careless play by unquantified Snyder siblings, perhaps all of them, over years should the tree be small by design and not by youth. Perhaps each small Snyder had taken his (or her?) turn forgetting that, despite appearances, the tree wasn’t a disposable decoration, its surrendered needles to be swept away at the end of the season, but rather could outlast them all if given the proper neglect.
Reid had been reasoning for a while. Long enough for the night air to have nipped away the feeling in his fingertips. He rubbed them against the leather jacket, shifted on feet already flattened by hours-long surgery. The tree’s personal journey was thus far a more acceptable focus than was the reason Reid had yet to knock on the door. That answer lay in an empty, darkened hallway, so recently Luke-lit but now a metaphor for the hollowed good-night of Reid’s mind. Systems were not so much overloaded as gone on standby. Life-support services only. Fortunately, life support included life saving; surgical skills had not been compromised. But all piloting was automatic - up to the present point, that is. Here he had stalled, was stuck on needles and slats and amorphous shadows making muffled noises on the other side of the door - one of which may have been his shadow, the one waiting for him, anticipating, checking the time, speculating on the traffic between here and the hospital. Currently operating in ignorance of its own transformative power. But not a shadow - no, that wasn’t right - too dark, too passive, too few dimensions. Not a consequence of light but a cause. A wave-emitting source, flows cresting over dark ground, spilling around corners, illuminating gloom. Something bright and full, something serving as high-noon, catching every surface, revealing all. Something that was right there, a knock away, just one more step; something that could be his, that-
The door opened. “Oh! Dr. Oliver-I didn’t know you were out here.”
Something that still lived with its mother.
“Uh…I…”
“Please...won’t you come in.” Lily Snyder pulled the door open wider with the hand not holding a garbage bag. “I’m just…I just have to-I’ll be right back.”
They switched places, Lily disappearing down the dark path to the curb, Reid rocking forward, floodlights first falling on his head and shoulders before pouring down the rest of his body. He stepped further into the light, over the threshold, past the door that had last blown air into his face. He looked down for scattered toys.
There was one other figure in the living room. A girl reclining on the sofa, long dark hair obscuring one side of her face. She looked up, fingers briefly stilling on the device in her hands. Reid forced a flash of a smile. He wondered if it looked as wrong as it felt.
Her eyes dropped to his jacket, his jeans. Thumbs resumed their typing.
Reid was bumped further into the room by a returning Lily. Sharp air clipped his skin as she shut the door. The air in the house was heavy, warm.
“So sorry about that, Dr. Oliver. Can I get you something to drink?”
He shook his head, the movement sliding the room into a slight tilt.
“Okay, well, I’m sure Luke will be down soon. This is certainly a long day for you - it’s awfully late for a meeting.”
Reid swayed backward slightly. “Ah…yes…well. Surgery.”
The smile reached her eyes. “I imagine you have to squeeze things in whenever you can. It must’ve taken Katie some getting used to.”
Reid’s mouth opened, closed.
“And I suppose things will only be getting more hectic the closer you get to the opening of the wing. For Luke, too - it’s already all he can talk about.”
Reid tried to take a breath.
“I mean, for him to have backed out of babysitting at the last minute - you must certainly have some important things to discuss. I’m about to head out myself…luckily, Luke’s sister was able to change her plans.” Her smile at the girl on the sofa was not returned. “Faith, honey? Can you please get your brother?”
The girl didn’t look up. “Luke! Your date’s here.”
Stagnant air caught in Reid's throat.
“Faith, stop it.” Lily’s voice was low. “You know that’s not appropriate.”
Flat eyes flicked up. “Like he’s been spending all that time in front of the mirror for a business meeting.”
This smile didn’t leave Lily’s lips. “Faith, please go upstairs and tell Luke that Dr. Oliver is waiting.” She pivoted to face Reid, her eyes warming. “Are you sure I can’t get you something? Some tea?”
The air had thickened in his windpipe, settling like sludge at the base of his neck. The room had entered a slow spin. He shuffled a step back, toward the door, toward breathing night air under relatively steady stars. He felt for the phone in his pocket with fingers stinging with returning sensation. Ring. It could ring. Or-he could say it did, or vibrated, or chimed, covered by a cough, calling him back to the hospital, back to safety, what was he doing here, what was he thinking, abort, abort-
“Young lady, I want you to get up right now and-”
The footsteps were fast and loud, punching the stairs in the accelerating cadence of a speed bag. A hand appeared first, then an arm, extended, pulling on a jacket, stretching it across wide shoulders, the red button-down beneath taught across a broad chest. A red shirt Reid had never seen. Had he? Was that something he noticed?
He noticed the hair, still long but lifted into a subtle architecture of peaks and swoops, form and intent.
He noticed the smile. Full and free and for him. It lightened the air, eased passage, righted the room, relaxed cramping fingers. Days-old tension dissolved, softening Reid’s face into the long-lost cousin of a smile.
The girl on the sofa snorted.
Chapter 15, Part 1
It had been 34 days since he’d last stood in front of Luke Snyder’s door.
Reid was no more ready now.
He could see lights inside the house, movement, the impressions of shapes pressing through the shutter slats. Reid had sidestepped pools of light to stand submerged in darkness next to a potted pine. Or perhaps a fir. Reid had already reasoned that four months earlier it had likely been festooned with bourgeois cheer - disproportionate bulbs, limb-strangling flash, misplaced toys. Forensic examination had revealed a smatter of cowlicks winking with rogue sparkle. The abused bark could have been evidence of careless play by unquantified Snyder siblings, perhaps all of them, over years should the tree be small by design and not by youth. Perhaps each small Snyder had taken his (or her?) turn forgetting that, despite appearances, the tree wasn’t a disposable decoration, its surrendered needles to be swept away at the end of the season, but rather could outlast them all if given the proper neglect.
Reid had been reasoning for a while. Long enough for the night air to have nipped away the feeling in his fingertips. He rubbed them against the leather jacket, shifted on feet already flattened by hours-long surgery. The tree’s personal journey was thus far a more acceptable focus than was the reason Reid had yet to knock on the door. That answer lay in an empty, darkened hallway, so recently Luke-lit but now a metaphor for the hollowed good-night of Reid’s mind. Systems were not so much overloaded as gone on standby. Life-support services only. Fortunately, life support included life saving; surgical skills had not been compromised. But all piloting was automatic - up to the present point, that is. Here he had stalled, was stuck on needles and slats and amorphous shadows making muffled noises on the other side of the door - one of which may have been his shadow, the one waiting for him, anticipating, checking the time, speculating on the traffic between here and the hospital. Currently operating in ignorance of its own transformative power. But not a shadow - no, that wasn’t right - too dark, too passive, too few dimensions. Not a consequence of light but a cause. A wave-emitting source, flows cresting over dark ground, spilling around corners, illuminating gloom. Something bright and full, something serving as high-noon, catching every surface, revealing all. Something that was right there, a knock away, just one more step; something that could be his, that-
The door opened. “Oh! Dr. Oliver-I didn’t know you were out here.”
Something that still lived with its mother.
“Uh…I…”
“Please...won’t you come in.” Lily Snyder pulled the door open wider with the hand not holding a garbage bag. “I’m just…I just have to-I’ll be right back.”
They switched places, Lily disappearing down the dark path to the curb, Reid rocking forward, floodlights first falling on his head and shoulders before pouring down the rest of his body. He stepped further into the light, over the threshold, past the door that had last blown air into his face. He looked down for scattered toys.
There was one other figure in the living room. A girl reclining on the sofa, long dark hair obscuring one side of her face. She looked up, fingers briefly stilling on the device in her hands. Reid forced a flash of a smile. He wondered if it looked as wrong as it felt.
Her eyes dropped to his jacket, his jeans. Thumbs resumed their typing.
Reid was bumped further into the room by a returning Lily. Sharp air clipped his skin as she shut the door. The air in the house was heavy, warm.
“So sorry about that, Dr. Oliver. Can I get you something to drink?”
He shook his head, the movement sliding the room into a slight tilt.
“Okay, well, I’m sure Luke will be down soon. This is certainly a long day for you - it’s awfully late for a meeting.”
Reid swayed backward slightly. “Ah…yes…well. Surgery.”
The smile reached her eyes. “I imagine you have to squeeze things in whenever you can. It must’ve taken Katie some getting used to.”
Reid’s mouth opened, closed.
“And I suppose things will only be getting more hectic the closer you get to the opening of the wing. For Luke, too - it’s already all he can talk about.”
Reid tried to take a breath.
“I mean, for him to have backed out of babysitting at the last minute - you must certainly have some important things to discuss. I’m about to head out myself…luckily, Luke’s sister was able to change her plans.” Her smile at the girl on the sofa was not returned. “Faith, honey? Can you please get your brother?”
The girl didn’t look up. “Luke! Your date’s here.”
Stagnant air caught in Reid's throat.
“Faith, stop it.” Lily’s voice was low. “You know that’s not appropriate.”
Flat eyes flicked up. “Like he’s been spending all that time in front of the mirror for a business meeting.”
This smile didn’t leave Lily’s lips. “Faith, please go upstairs and tell Luke that Dr. Oliver is waiting.” She pivoted to face Reid, her eyes warming. “Are you sure I can’t get you something? Some tea?”
The air had thickened in his windpipe, settling like sludge at the base of his neck. The room had entered a slow spin. He shuffled a step back, toward the door, toward breathing night air under relatively steady stars. He felt for the phone in his pocket with fingers stinging with returning sensation. Ring. It could ring. Or-he could say it did, or vibrated, or chimed, covered by a cough, calling him back to the hospital, back to safety, what was he doing here, what was he thinking, abort, abort-
“Young lady, I want you to get up right now and-”
The footsteps were fast and loud, punching the stairs in the accelerating cadence of a speed bag. A hand appeared first, then an arm, extended, pulling on a jacket, stretching it across wide shoulders, the red button-down beneath taught across a broad chest. A red shirt Reid had never seen. Had he? Was that something he noticed?
He noticed the hair, still long but lifted into a subtle architecture of peaks and swoops, form and intent.
He noticed the smile. Full and free and for him. It lightened the air, eased passage, righted the room, relaxed cramping fingers. Days-old tension dissolved, softening Reid’s face into the long-lost cousin of a smile.
The girl on the sofa snorted.