The Lurking Man (11 page)

Wilson raised his chin to her. “When was the last time you looked at yourself in the mirror?” He stared and raised a brow. “Christ, Cailean, you look like you've aged ten years since I last saw you.”

She looked away. She knew she should have spent more time readying herself. Maybe that would have hampered his ability to criticize.

“Do you want to scare your son looking like that?”

“No,” she said. “I just want to see him so I can remember the reason why I need to clean up and stay that way.”

“I'll send you photos of him. Place them all around your house and use them as motivation to get healthy.”

“Dad?” they heard from the other side of the door.

Wilson stiffened. “Damn it, Cailean, this is what I was trying to avoid. I want you to keep quiet,” he said and pushed the door open enough to fit his head inside the house. “Yes, Beau, is everything OK, buddy?”

“Why are you standing outside?”

Wilson laughed. “I'm just having a talk with someone. I'll be inside in a minute.”

“Is that Mom? Is she out there with you?”

“Why don't you watch some television or something? I'll be inside in a moment, OK?”

“I want to see her.”

“Please, Beau, do as I ask and go inside and watch some television.”

“I've been waiting to see her. Can she come in?”

Wilson sighed, hung his head, and then looked back through the door at Beau. “OK, Beau, yes, your mother is here.”

“Tell her to come inside, Dad. It's cold outside. C'mon. Please?”

Wilson looked over his shoulder and gave her that look, the one that showed his displeasure. He pushed the door open and Cailean and Beau locked eyes.

“Mom!” he shouted and smiled.

She stood perfectly still and her eyes filled with tears. There he was, looking back at her with tangible pleasure. He didn't give her an accusing gaze or an awkward look like she had expected. All she saw was pure satisfaction and she didn't know what to do with it.

“Mom,” Beau said and pushed the joystick forward on his power wheelchair. He stopped at the threshold of the doorway and opened his arms. “I can't believe you are here!”

She stepped forward and embraced her son. Squeezing him tight, she planted a kiss on his soft cheek. “I am so sorry for everything I've done to you and your father.”

“It's OK, Mom. I'm just glad you're here.”

Cailean looked up at Wilson, who was fighting away tears she knew were from the threat of her being there,
cracking the wall of protection he'd built around himself and Beau.
 

She pulled away from Beau and looked at him with clear, wide eyes. “You've gotten so big. And look at you driving around in that fancy thing.”

“I like it a lot,” he said, backed up, and spun the chair in a tight circle. “Dad said you guys got it for me to make it easier to get around. Thank you, Mommy, I love it.”

She looked at Wilson and the humiliation reddened her face more than the cold. She didn't help him with Beau and hadn't since the accident. And yet he gave her credit for things she didn't deserve in an attempt to preserve her relationship with her son when all she ever did was lie and manipulate to get her next buzz.

“I needed to stop by and tell you that I love you and that I'm going to do better from now on,” she said. “You're growing up so fast and I realize that I don't want to miss that. Not for another moment.”

 “You sound like you're getting ready to leave already. Are you?” He sat erect and he reached for her. “You can't go, not yet!”

“I need to, honey. But I will come back real soon, OK?”

“No, it's not OK. You don't need to leave! You just got here. Tell her, Dad.” Beau took hold of her hand and squeezed tight. His grip was strong and desperate and he stared at his father.

Cailean squatted down in front of him, kissed his hand, and looked into his eyes. “I will come back, Beau. From now on I'm going to keep my promises to you.”

“No,” he said, and looked at his mother. “You are here now and I want you to stay.” He looked at his father. “Dad, tell her she can stay for a while longer!”

“No, Beau, your mother is right,” Wilson said. “She needs to get better first. But as long as she tries and continues to improve, she can come back as much as she wants.”

“No!” Beau shouted. “I want her to stay, and if she can't stay, I want to go with her.”

Wilson stepped forward and reached to break Beau's hold on Cailean. “You know that's not going to happen. You need to let her go.”

“No, Dad, I never ask for anything. All I want to do is spend some time with her. If you don't let me, I'll never talk to you again.”

Cailean looked at Wilson. He stared at Beau, visibly shocked at his son's outburst. She looked at Beau and he glared back at his father, unblinking.

“Can you give us a few minutes alone, Beau? I need to talk to your mother in private.”

“Please, Dad,” he said and let his mother's hand go. Tears fell from his reddening eyes. “Don't do this. This is all I ever wanted, and I've wanted it for a really long time.”

“Just a moment, OK, Beau? She's not going to leave without us talking to you first, I promise. I just want to talk to her about adult things.”

Beau backed out of the hallway and the quiet hum of his motorized wheelchair faded away.

Wilson leaned against the wall, closed his eyes, and drew a deep breath. He exhaled slowly. “You see what your coming here has done, right? You're going to disappoint him again because there is no way I'm letting him go anywhere with you.”

“I didn't ask him to go anywhere,” she said. “I didn't say anything when you asked me not to. I'm trying to be good in this, Wilson. This is his idea because it is what he wants to do. And do I need to remind you that you're the one who told me that this—” she swirled her hand in the air, “—isn't about you or me. This is about him. And if he wants to come by my house for the day, then he should be allowed to come. Who knows, if you don't let him, he might hate you as much as he hates me. At least you will finally know how that feels. So I'm going to tell him if he wants to come over that I'm OK with it, but that it is up to you.”

“If your apartment is as small as you've said it is, then you couldn't possibly accommodate his wheelchair. Besides, you don't have any of the necessary equipment to properly care for him.”

“Like what?”

“Ramps to get him in and out of the house.”

“I don't need ramps. I can carry him in.” She thought for a moment. “I'll take his regular wheelchair. I'm sure you still have it as a backup, don't you?”

Wilson nodded.

“That will work fine and it will be easy enough for me to transport it,” she said.

Wilson looked at his feet and rocked on his heels. He rubbed the graying stubble on his chin. “My God,” he said and laughed nervously. “I can't believe I'm actually considering this. I want this so badly for the both of you, but I'm not happy I've been put into this position.”

“Stop being so dramatic, Wilson. Everything is going to be fine. Besides, it will be nice to show him where I live and to have some one-on-one time with him. If you want, I'll only have him over for a few hours and then I'll bring him back.”

He nodded and closed his eyes. “Fine.” He looked at her and everything about his expression was serious. “I just hope this decision doesn't come back to haunt me.”

“It won't.” She smiled big. “And if it makes you feel any better, you can call him every half hour or fifteen minutes to check in on him, I don't mind.”

“All right. I want you to call me as soon as you get him to your house. I want to know that you've arrived safely.”

“Fine. Just remember that the roads are far from perfect and it will take me a bit longer than usual to get home.”

“And you need to make sure you put him on the toilet every fifteen minutes to a half hour. He has this thing about going in his diapers. It's a lot of work, but it is helping with his confidence.”

“Every half hour? I've got it covered, no problem.”

“I don't know if you remember, but taking care of him is hard work. This isn't going to be a picnic for you.”

“I'm not scared,” she said.

He studied her face. “If at any time you've had enough, you call me and I will come and get him.”

“Thank you, but everything is going to be fine.” 

Chapter 13

 

 

RESPONSIBILTY AND THE MASK

 

 

Present day.

 

“I am almost certain I am the reason Beau was in that wheelchair,” Cailean said. “When we looked at each other I could feel my guilt and shame trying to surface. But something within held the emotions back and reminded me that they weren't useful and that I shouldn't show weakness.”

“What do you think would happen if you ignored that thing inside?”

“Bad things,” she said. “Very bad things.”

“It has made you dependent upon it and you aren't strong enough to escape its hold.”

“I know now that those thoughts and feelings come from the same thing that feeds me lies and allows me to borrow excuses in exchange for my constant misery. To think that I resisted it overnight only to discover I brought it back home to them again.”

Her eyes glowed with disgust and she sat in the chair.

“I am wicked on the inside and it repulses me,” she said. “Although I didn't see blame in Beau's eyes, I can't stop thinking it was there, hiding behind his desperate smile. Because, like my shame, for him, the memory of what I did to him will always remain.”

“You have been looking for something within that boy that just doesn't exist,” Sariel said.

“Because I can't see it doesn't mean it is not there.”

“Beau never blamed you for anything.”

“He should have if what I'm feeling is true.”

“All he has ever wanted was to feel loved by his mother.”

She raised her brow and tried to recall a memory where she showed him love. The memory wasn't there.

“Why else do you think he would cling to you so desperately?” Sariel said.

She touched her own numb hand in remembrance of his firm grasp. “I don't know,” she said.

“It's because he wanted you to love him more than anything else, that's why. I heard him praying, wishing with all of his heart for you to come back to him. He didn't ask to walk again or ask to bring you and Wilson back together. All he wanted was your approval of him, for what he was. You couldn't give him that because the hate you've carried around with you for so long has soured your soul and stifled your compassion. You stink—even to me.”

Cailean lifted her chin to the comforting touch of newly falling flurries. The space outside her mind seemed quiet and peaceful and she wished she could escape the chaos within to embrace the serenity for only a moment.

“I love that boy,” she said, and that was the truth. “I don't know why I'm incapable of showing him that or why I'm such a monster.”

“You have always reveled in your guilt and shame. And you have done so since you were a child. It has allowed you to be angry and it has provided you with the perfect excuse for your bad behavior. You are tainted—a virus, like Wilson figured you to be.”

Cailean sneered at the dark, beating pulse all around her that suddenly turned ugly. “It's not like I'm proud of the things I've seen today. What I was has cost me a great deal, too!”

“What has it cost you that you didn't willingly pay?”

“I despise you for what you are doing to me,” she said.

She remembered Sariel's white glassy eyes that looked like emotionless marbles. She wondered: What did they know of her pain? Her grief was personal and unique.

“And what about the cost everyone around you had to pay?” he said. “What of them?”

The snowfall intensified and simultaneously her irritation turned into indignation. She pounded her chest with her fist. “You don't think I can feel that there is an emptiness inside of me? It is a dark and lonely path I travel and I don't believe there is a light bright enough to illuminate it!”

“Even the darkest, most desolate of places can be lit. Even if only for a moment.”

“Why do you torment me with riddles?” She fought to get her heavy, wet shirt off. She stood in her bra. “Go ahead, look inside! Pull me apart and tell me my pain isn't genuine.”

She snarled like an animal making a final stand against her carnivorous hunter. But the stillness that followed stayed until she calmed. She put her shirt back on and felt silly about her outburst. Reminded of a child throwing a tantrum, she walked the perimeter of light. “Don't you understand that what you're doing to me is provoking?”

“Your inner turmoil is ripe and volatile, Cailean. I cannot deny that is what is responsible for attracting me to you.”

Her face distorted at the mention of it.

“Inner pain that is so intense and screams out for help with such desperation is hard to ignore,” he said. “Out of all the people in need, yours is the one that has been the loudest and has yelled the longest.”

The idea of him following her around the circle of light the same way he had before disturbed her.

“How long have you been watching me?” she said.

“Do you remember the vision of lilies?”

The memory was there, but unfinished. She believed she knew the ending, but she wanted to know for sure. After attempting to move back into it without Sariel having to trigger it, she soon gave up her search.

“Yes, I remember,” she said. “But not enough of it.”

Sariel laughed. “Well then, p
erhaps you need something to stimulate your recollection? Very well . . .”