Ten Years After/Part 4
Any sense of connection we had vanished a long, long time ago. So why do I
feel as if Brian is in trouble?
I try to calm myself down, but I start to pace. Then the chain-smoking
begins. It's not like I have any real place to go. I never wander too far
away from the bar.
I'm glad Arthur gave up. I wouldn't want him to see me like this. It would
give the lie to nearly everything I told him.
I *am* relaxed. Except when I'm here.
I *have* given up hope. Except when I'm here.
I *did* grow up. Just not much smarter.
He's still here, somewhere inside of me, like a bug that burrows deep into
your skin, so deep you can't get him out. Ever. I almost laugh out loud.
Brian would love that. Being compared to a fucking bug.
So much for my trip down memory lane. Thinking about Brian gets me crazy.
I know that. So why do I torture myself?
I screech to a complete standstill.
Cause *not* thinking about him is impossible.
I learned to live with this feeling of apprehension years ago. But
suddenly it's intolerable.
Why now? What's so fucking special about now?
I take half a step towards the door before I stop again. I can't go to
him.
They'll know.
They'll follow me.
I take a deep breath. I can let him go. It's...easy.
I stomp back to my chair and collapse, head in hands. My hair comes loose
from its ponytail and falls over my face. I'm so fucking pathetic, it
hurts.
*****
"What did he want?" I ask, my voice muffled by the pillow.
"The usual. You know." Shannon shrugs, but I can see right through her.
Strange, that. I never used to be able to.
"What did he say?"
Shannon sighs, but she's anything but bored. She thinks all this talk
of...him...is going to send me over the edge. She might be right. But I
still want to know.
"He says he's been searching for you. He thinks he found you--"
I hear someone gasp and realize it's me.
"Well, someone he *thinks* is you. He thinks Brian Slade is alive and well
and hiding in plain sight. As Tommy Stone. Which would be fucking
brilliant if we'd actually thought of it."
That *was* the plan. I just couldn't go through with it. But Shannon is
wrong. What's brilliant is that Arthur Stuart managed to figure it out.
Which makes him very, very dangerous.
"Did he ask about--?" I never mention his name. Not even to her. No,
especially not to her.
"Don't they all?"
"What did you say?"
"That the two of you haven't had any contact in years." She trails a hand
over the back of my neck and I flinch. "You haven't, have you?"
I think about the tickets I sent and close my eyes. Does that count? I
have no idea if he used them. No, that's not true. I know he did. I
checked.
God, I lie even to myself.
"Of course not," I say, pleased that I didn't stammer.
She settles somewhere near me and traces the line of my back beneath the
covers. I'm so tense, I think my bones will break if she doesn't stop.
"Good."
Pause.
"You realize I'm only interested in your welfare, Brian, right?"
"R-right." This time I do stammer, and I hate betraying the slightest
weakness.
"I don't know what I would do without you," she says dreamily.
I want to puke my guts up, but I would choke to death. My stomach rebels,
and I roll over with a barely concealed moan.
Trapped.
Trapped.
Trapped.
Weighed down by the lies I told. Every single lie is like a blanket smothering
the life out of me. There are too many. I can't breathe.
This is why I can't go out. Anxiety, thick as fog, clogs my throat. I
haven't really been outside since the rioting. All those people chanting my name,
hating me, burning me in effigy after I murdered Maxwell Demon. If they
only knew how it left its mark on me.
They've moved on, forgotten, made new lives.
I thought I could. I wish I could.
But more and more, I long for the old one. But not all of it. Just the
part where *he* came.
Only now I imagine he *stays*.
But why would he? I've got less to offer him now than I did then. And that
wasn't enough to hold him.
I try to think of something, anything else, but his name echoes through my
mind, daring me to let it escape just this once.
"Curt..."
*****