Cabin Fever (22 page)

“How much did he used to make off you?”

“I’d rather not say.”

“Of course you wouldn’t. Say it anyway.” I cross my arm under the one holding the phone, waiting for the horrible answer.

“About three grand a week. Maybe more.”

My head drops as I think about how much I could be doing with that kind of money. “Oh my god.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s disgusting.”

“Did you get rid of him?” My fingers drum the counter now as my impatience grows. I worry that with him being so far away, whatever good influence I’ve had on him with disappear like smoke on a windy day.

“For now. But he’ll be back.”

“So you need to go. Don’t be there.”

Jeremy sighs, but he doesn’t say anything in response. I find myself pleading.

“Jeremy, please. Don’t go back to the drugs or the booze. Your life is so much better without all that.”

“I don’t know,” he says, sounding depressed.

“Of course you know! Don’t be stupid!”

“When I was with you, yes. I agree. Life seemed better without the numbing effects. But now that I’m back here, I’m not so sure.”

“Is it Manhattan? Is it a bad influence on you? All the traffic and the energy and the noise?”

“I don’t think so. I did plenty of drugs in the cabin. And you saw the bottles.”

“Yes, I saw the bottles. I’ll never forget that. You’re better than that, Jeremy. You don’t need that stuff. It turns you into a jerk.”

“A jerk?” He laughs. “That’s harsh.”

“That’s the truth. Now, you need to get a grip on yourself. Have you seen your brother or sister yet?”

“No.”

“Cassie?”

“No.”

“Anyone besides your drug dealer?”

“No, I just got here. Relax.”

My eyes bug out. “Did you just tell me to relax?”

He laughs again. “Um, yeah. Maybe.”

“Don’t ever do that again. It has the opposite effect, trust me.”

“I do trust you.” His voice has gone serious and softer. “I really do.”

I chew on my lip as I consider my next words. Should I tell him what’s happened here at the cabin? Do I want to resurrect the ghost of his wife just as he seems to be letting her go a little?

“Maybe it’s you,” he says out the blue.

“What’s me?”

“Maybe you’re the difference. I did drugs here, I did drugs there, I did drugs around my family. The only time I didn’t want to do them was when I was around you.”

“Uh, wrong. You wanted to drink yourself into oblivion when you were with me, but I cut off your source.”

“Yeah, but my brother did the same thing when I was Baker Acted and I had zero interest in sobriety, even when I had an army of therapists on my ass.”

“Maybe you just weren’t ready.” I’m flattered he finds me that much of a positive influence, but I don’t think it’s a good idea to take the credit for his sobriety. He needs to find the strength inside himself for that, I’m pretty sure. Otherwise, it won’t last. It’s not like we’re going to be roommates, or get married or anything. Even just the thought of that makes my heart do gymnastics. An image of him in a tux at the end of a church aisle has me feeling dizzy. A headache starts to pound behind my eyes.

“Maybe,” he says, sounding unconvinced.

I see the flash of white out of the corner of my eye again. It’s fuzzy. Undefined. There, but when I look left, it moves and stays just out of reach.

“Jeremy, listen, I have to tell you something.” Time to share my ghostly encounters. They’re starting to creep me out.

The flash of white is suddenly followed by black. It’s like a dark curtain is closing over my left eye. “Ahhh!” I shriek, trying to get away from whatever is coming after me, losing my grip on my cell phone.

“What’s that?” I hear him say as the phone hits the counter.

No matter where I look, the black is there. It’s halfway over my eye. I reach out to bat at it, push it away, but my fingers touch nothing.

“Jeremy!” I yell, frozen in panic.

His voice sounds as if it’s coming from really far away. “Sarah? Sarah? Are you okay?”

I locate the phone with my one good eye and hold it to my ear, shaking all over. It’s coming for me. A ghost. Something.

“Sarah! Talk to me!”

“I’m here. I’m here.” My voice is trembling. “Something’s wrong.”

“What? Is someone there? What’s going on? Talk to me!” He sounds angry and worried.

“I’ve been seeing your wife’s ghost and now I think she’s trying to hurt me!” I keep turning left, trying to see what’s coming after me, but every time I move, it moves too, just out of range.

“What?”

“Jeremy help me!”

“Is this some kind of joke? Because I’m not finding it very funny, Sarah.”

“Jeremy I would never joke about something like this!” The black moves closer. “Ahhhh! Help!” I run across the room and jump onto the couch, burying myself under the blanket. I can sense Jaws next to me, trying to join me in the dark, but I’m too scared to move.

“Sarah!” I hear the voice down by my waist and I realize I’m clenching the phone in my fist. I put it up to my ear.

“I’m here.” I whisper, afraid the ghost will find me again.

“What in the hell is going on over there?”

I start to cry at the anger in his voice and the fear I have for my life and sanity. I’ve never experienced a psychological break before, but if this is what’s happening, I’m going to check myself into mental institution and get myself on some serious meds, stat. I’m terrified.

“I don’t know, Jeremy, I don’t know,” I say, practically crying. “I saw your wife’s ghost a few times and she talked to me. That’s why I called you after I texted you. I knew it was stupid, that it would make me look desperate, but she said I needed to do it now. And you were with that drug guy, so that was a good call, I guess, but now she’s mad, I think.” I big shiver overtakes my body and I can’t talk anymore. My teeth are chattering with stark, cold fear. The headache is blazing behind both eyes.

“Sarah, I don’t know what the fuck is happening right now, but I can tell you for a fact that Laura wouldn’t hurt so much as a flea in life and she wouldn’t do it in death either. Stay there. I’m coming back.”

“You’re really far away. You should stay gone,” I weep.

“You need me, I’m there. Don’t do anything stupid until I get there.”

“Stupid? Like what? Imagine a dark ghost is after me?” I try to laugh, but it sounds like crazy personified.

“Just relax and wait. Take a nap, maybe. You’ve probably overworked yourself painting too much.”

A bitter laugh escapes my lips. “Ha, that’s funny. When you left, you took my muse with you. I can’t paint shit unless you’re in the next room, apparently.”

“I’m going to try not to let that go to my head,” he says, his voice calmer and kind again.

“Shut up. Just come.”

“I’m on my way. Do you want me to keep you on the line while I drive?”

“No. The signal sucks. I’m going to take a nap like you suggested.” Right here under this blanket in the dark where no one can get me.

I let Jaws in with me and lie down, burrowing under the thick wool and letting my eyes drift closed. I recite the prayer my mother taught me when I was little:

Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord, my soul to keep…

Chapter Thirty-Two

I HEAR A BANG AND then a barking dog.
Jeremy! He’s here!
I sit up and throw the blanket off when the sound of his boots clomping up the stairs assure me it’s my savior. I can’t believe I slept through his entire almost three-hour drive. The headache is still there, throbbing away.

“Sarah!” he shouts, banging on the door. “Let me in!”

Damn, it’s dark in here. I can’t see a damn thing.

“Jeremy?!” I reach out and touch the coffee table in front of me. Why can’t I see it? It’s like the blanket is still over my head. I reach up to make sure I’m just not feeling it there, but it’s not blocking my vision. It can’t be; it’s around my waist.

Panic starts to well up in me. “Jeremy!” I screech.

“Sarah! What’s wrong?! Open the goddamn door!”

“I can’t! I can’t see! I can’t see anything!”

A few seconds later I hear breaking glass and then more barking.

“Go away, Stanky! I mean it! I’ll kick you this time, I swear to God!”

“Jaws, come here!” I yell, my voice several notches higher than normal. The ghost has won. She’s taken me into the darkness with her. I cannot see a single thing.

There’re more sounds of glass falling and then fumbling and finally banging on the ground and a blast of cold air. Footsteps follow and then ice-cold hands touch my arms.

“Ack! Get off me!” I shout, for a moment imagining that the Grim Reaper himself has arrived to drag me over to the other side.

“Hey! Hey! Calm down! It’s me, Jeremy, okay?”

I grab the snow jacket I feel at my hands and pull it closer, trying to see him, but I can’t. It’s pitch black in here.

“Turn on a light, I can’t see you.”

Jeremy’s cold hand touches my face. “Babe, the light is on. I’m right here in front of you.”

Tears pour out as I realize what’s happened. “I’m blind. I can’t see anything.”

Suddenly I feel myself flying up in the air.

“What are you doing?” I ask, breathless.

“Taking you to the hospital.”

“The hospital? Can they help…?” My next words were …
Get rid of a ghost’s curse
. But I keep that part to myself.

“Let’s hope so. Where’s your jacket?”

“I have no idea.”

“Here. Put this on.” Jeremy puts me back on my feet, staying close enough that I can feel the heat of his body nearby. Whatever he’s putting on me is warm. I realize when my hands don’t reach the bottom of the sleeves that it’s his jacket I’m wearing.

“You’ll freeze.”

“I have a heater in the truck. Come on. We’re outta here.”

“But what about Jaws?”

“He can stay in town.”

“No!” I stop walking, even though Jeremy is tugging at my elbow. “I’m not leaving without him.”

“Fine! Just… come on. I don’t like the way your eyes look.”

I pause near the front door as he unlocks it. “What do you mean? What do they look like?”

“Never mind. Come on.”

“Wait!” I yell, grabbing his arm as he’s about to lift me.

“What now?!”

“Take the painting.” I gesture behind me where I think the painting is resting on the easel.

“Why? Come on, we don’t have time for this.”

“Just take it. I can walk in the snow. I’ll just hold onto your back while you carry it. And I need my purse too.”

Jeremy sighs in annoyance, but I can hear him doing as I asked. I try to zip his jacket up, but can’t figure out the zipper parts without my sight to help me.

“Okay, I’m going to open the door. We’ll go out on the porch and I’ll lock up.”

“Do you have my purse?”

“Yes, I have your purse.”

“But what about the window you broke?”

He sighs in annoyance. “I’ll put that blank canvas over the hole. Just wait right here.”

The cold wind stops hitting my face and then he’s back. “Follow me. Here’s my arm.” He puts my hand through the crook of his elbow.

I shuffle behind him, taking baby steps, afraid I’m going to walk into a wall or the door. I’ve never been so literally in the dark as I am right now. My eyes are gone. I’ll never paint again. I try not to think about it, but it’s impossible. I start to cry once more, but I do it quietly so Jeremy won’t hear me.

Getting to the truck is an adventure in itself. I fall down no less than five times before Jeremy puts my hand on the truck.

“Wait here. I’m going to load the painting in the back seat with your purse and then I’ll help you in.”

I feel around and figure out I’m standing at the front of the vehicle. I take small steps to the side, making my way over to the passenger door. I get there as Jeremy joins me.

“Up you go,” he says, placing my hands in places he thinks will help me navigate.

“Here?”
 
I ask, waving my foot near where I think I might find a step up.

He takes my foot and places it on the runner.

“Thanks.” I rarely ride in trucks, so I’m not that familiar with them or how they’re laid out. I blame my amateur status as the reason why I slam my head into the top of the truck and then fall back into the door.

“Here. Just let me do it.”
 
Jeremy picks me up like a baby and places me on the seat.

I reach out to pat his cheek. “Thank you.” I touch something, but I’m not sure what it is. My hands are frozen at this point.

He buckles me in, shuts the door, and a few seconds later, opens his own. The truck bounces around as he gets in and then the motor fires up.

“You ready?” he asks.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

I feel movement as the truck begins its descent of the driveway. Vertigo starts to take over as I realize I cannot figure out which way is up, down, left, or right. Reaching out, I put one hand on the window ledge and one on the seat.

“You okay?” he asks.

My nerves make me laugh. “Okay? Not really.”

“Can you see anything?”

“Not one thing. It’s completely black.”

He pats me on the hand. “Don’t worry. I’ll get you to the ER and my brother will make sure the best doctors in the state take care of you.”

We drive on in silence and my mind wanders over my situation. I’m a painter. I came out here to this cabin to get away from all the stress of real life and reconnect with myself, and just days later, I’m leaving with a guy who should be a complete stranger but who feels like the beginnings of a boyfriend, I’ve talked to his dead wife’s ghost and somehow pissed her off, and now I’m as blind as a bat.

I’d say my adventure is a complete failure. I wish I knew what the hell was going on.

Chapter Thirty-Three

“I WAS GOING TO TAKE you to Manhattan, but it’s too far. I’m taking you here.”

“Where’s here?” I ask, turning my head to face him.

His sharp intake of breath is impossible to miss.

“What? What’s wrong?” I hold Jaws against me tighter, letting him lick-attack my wrist.

“Nothing. I just need to get you into the ER.”

I reach out and swing my hand around until I make contact with his arm. I squeeze it and plead. “Please tell me. What’s wrong? Is it my eyes? What do they look like?” This irrational thought goes through my mind that his wife didn’t want me looking at her husband anymore so she blinded me with her ghost voodoo. Can someone turn that bad when they die when they were apparently an angel while alive? All I’ve ever heard about Laura is how kind and loving she was. Surely she wouldn’t blind an innocent woman for liking her man, would she? That expression about hell having no fury like a scorned woman comes to mind, but she was anything but scorned. She was adored by this guy.