The Lurking Man (19 page)

“You got me good this time, Wilson,” she said.

Something within gave her the idea that this was becoming a dangerous situation for Beau. It encouraged her to pick up the phone and to call Wilson and admit that she was unfit to do this. But a strong contradicting feeling inserted itself firmly into place and took over completely. It was the one that defied the idea of admitting anything to Wilson and it disallowed her to show weakness.

“It's not a big deal, Mom,” Beau said. “If you want, I can go myself and if I have any trouble, I'll call you.”

“Get that out of your head, Beau. I'm not even going to entertain the thought of allowing you to go in there without me being near,” she said. “I'm coming right now so get off of my back. I don't want anything happening to you.”

“Nothing is going to happen.”

“You don't know that.”

She firmed her balance and plotted her course back to Beau.

“Idiotic kid thinks he knows it all.”

She stumbled and held onto things for balance as she walked out of the kitchen.

“Why can't you get it through that thick head of yours that the last thing I need you to do is fall again? God forbid if you were to get hurt even worse than you did before. Your father is difficult enough without my having to hear him use every opportunity to tell me how bad my parenting skills are.”

“I haven't fallen since the accident.”

“Was it my imagination or did you not fall in the bathroom before?”

“I slipped.”

“You fell.”

“I really need to go to the bathroom.”

She bumped the wall and staggered.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Why don't you wait until the last second to tell me next time?”

“But I've been calling for you for a long time.”

She entered the living room and Beau watched her with angry eyes.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” she said.

“I'm not looking at you like anything, Mom. I've been waiting here longer than I should and I don't want to have an accident.”

“You sound like a broken record, you know that? I want you to know that it's driving me nuts.” She settled behind the wheelchair and disengaged the brakes.

“I'm sorry if I'm bothering you,” he said. “You told me to remind you and I wasn't sure if you heard me. I thought you were just ignoring me for some reason.”

“First, there's a big difference between reminding and whining. Second, when you whine like that I really don't want to be around you. Why don't you wear a damn diaper if you're so worried about crapping yourself?”

“I do wear a diaper. But Dad says I have to keep it on just in case of an accident.”

She stared at the back of his head, loathing him. He just sat there, as useless as his legs.

“I couldn't care less about what your father tells you. Don't you think if you just went in your diaper that it would have made our time a lot less stressful? This constant back and forth to the bathroom is tiresome.”

“I'm not a baby anymore, Mom. I need to go to the bathroom like all the other kids my age do.”

“And it doesn't matter to you how much it puts the people around you out, does it?” She shook her head. “Get it through your head that you're not like the other kids because they're not confined to a wheelchair like you!”

His body trembled and he cried quietly.

“I know I'm not,” he said. “And you're not like other mothers.”

Cailean stepped beside Beau and moved close to him. “What did you just say?”

“Nothing.”

“I want you to tell me what you said and I want you to say it to my face.”

Beau stared at her with bright red eyes, unable to speak.

“You're a coward, do you know that? You're just like your father.”

She moved beside him again and thought about smacking him in the head, but the scar the surgery had left on his neck reasoned with her.

“Don't talk about my dad,” he said. “He's good to me.”

“You mumble stuff underneath your breath so I can't hear it. And when I give you the perfect opportunity to tell me what's on your mind, you start to cry and chicken out.”

She gave the wheelchair a strong push and the handrim on the wheel got hung up on the coffee table and dragged it along. Cailean pushed harder to try and dislodge it, but the table skidded across the floor, bunched the area rug and turned the wheelchair askew, stopping it.

“Damn it!” Cailean said and fell down with a heavy thump.

“Mom?” Beau shifted in his chair. “Are you OK?”

“Don't worry about me,” she said and was slow to get up. She kicked the table away with a yell and rubbed what hurt.

“You should have said it, Beau. Maybe if you did I would respect you more despite your stupid fascination of not wanting to piss in your diaper. At least that would have shown me you were becoming a man.”

Anger lingered and there were no more words to say. She pushed Beau towards the bathroom.

Chapter 23

 

 

BEAU'S FATE

 

 

Present day.

 

Cailean gasped, jumped back and fell down. She scrambled away and stopped at the veil where the darkness met the light. Pressing her back dangerously close to the biting cold, she stared at Beau with wide, disbelieving eyes.

“What is he doing here?” she said, rigid and inert.

He sat perfectly still at the table with his arms dangling limply by his sides. His mouth hung open and drool dripped into his lap. A deep stare that focused on something hidden within the unnatural backdrop held his attention firmly.

“Beau?” she said and kept her distance while she watched him.

“He cannot hear you,” Sariel said.

“What do you mean he can't hear me? He's right there! Beau, please tell me what you're doing here.”

Beau didn't react to the sound of her voice, and the genuine concern that came over Cailean was foreign. Like anything else that was good, she didn't know what to do with it.

“Beau, honey,” she called to him again, and strangely she was reminded of when he needed to go to the bathroom and she ignored him.

“But that was different,” she reasoned, and discarded the thought. “It's Mommy, can you hear me?”

She stood and paused to scrutinize him further. He didn't blink and didn't appear to be breathing. She moved towards him.

“Are you hurt?”

She continued her approach and her worry only deepened the closer she got to him.

“Why isn't he answering me?”

“Death has come upon your son,” Sariel said and the words were like a stiff punch to Cailean's gut.

“What?” she said and shook her head. “No, that isn't possible. You've been here with me the entire time.”

“A touch is all it takes,” he said. “I can move between your thoughts. Those moments are long enough for me to fulfill my obligations.”

“Why?” she said, and wept in her hands. All feeling in her skin was gone, and only the pain in her heart remained. “Why him?”

“Yes, Cailean, why him?”

“I don't know,” she said, and felt helpless. “I want you to take me instead of him.”

“Oh, I
am
going to take you,” Sariel said, and the jarring sound of his fingernails rubbing together in anticipation sent a shiver down her spine.
 

“Please tell me there is hope for him.”

“Look at him and tell me what you see. Is he beyond saving?”

He appeared pallid and fragile and it reminded her of her late good side.

“You've brought him here for me to see,” she said. “That must mean he is still alive and that must mean there is still hope for him.”

“Yes, but if you are to save him you must act quickly.”

Free of her demon, the instinct to protect Beau made her run to his side. She went to take his hand into her own and he flinched. His mouth opened wide and formed a perfect circle filled with silent, unspeakable sorrow. Then, a slow, escalating scream reached a deafening level and the strain cracked his young, undeveloped vocal chords and reddened his pale face.

She released him and stared at him, unsure what to do next.

“Please, I don't know what to do and he needs your help,” Cailean said to Sariel.

“There is nothing I can do. I have done my part.”

Beau continued to scream and Cailean looked at the darkness, and then back at Beau, still unsure what to do.

“Please,” she said. “Help my son.”

“You are the only one who can help him now.”

“Make him stop,” she said and covered her ears. “I can't think clearly.”

But he continued to wail, uninterrupted, until he ran out of breath. And as if he were completely unaware of what had just happened, he looked forward and assumed the same position she found him in.

“Now is your last chance to prove your love for him,” Sariel said.

“I don't know how,” she said and beat the tabletop with her numb fists. “I don't know what love is!”

“Dig deep and give him what you have deprived him of for so long.”

She continued to watch Beau and he just sat there, devoid of life. And in that instant, the parallel design of Sariel's plan became evident. The opportunity for her to redeem herself had finally come.

Guided by something unknown, she found Rafi in the wet snow and wrung the water out of him. She settled next to Beau and evaluated the stuffed animal one final time. She petted it and could feel her heart filling with a true desire to bring Beau joy.

“I'm sorry for everything I've ever done to you,” she said, and placed Rafi in his lap and gently touched his hand. “I am so very sorry, son. I have embraced things in my life I could never hope to understand and I visited that upon you and so many others. And for that I am ashamed. You deserve a life of happiness and now I understand that means I cannot be a part of it. I love you, son.”

Beau looked at his mother's touch, and after the briefest pause he busied himself with a slow, unorganized search that ended when his focus settled on Rafi.

“You've come back to me!” he said and scooped up the stuffed animal and lifted it up high. With a bright smile and a look of perfect pleasure, he kissed his friend and hugged him tightly.

Watching the way he loved Rafi filled Cailean with an overpowering feeling of regret. In that moment, she knew that what he had for that inanimate thing could have been hers. But she chose everything that was bad and made a conscious choice to ignore that which was most precious of all.

“I need to know how this happened,” she said.

“You will,” he said. “And it's like I told you when I first brought you here: you will hate what you were. He isn't as strong as you and the process will consume his body quickly, giving us very little time now.”

She knew exactly what Sariel had meant by the process. It was the tingle that started in the hands and feet and crawled deeper into the body every passing second. It was creeping death settling in, and she concluded that once it took over completely, the soul started to separate from the body and there was no chance of ever going back. 

Chapter 24

 

 

DEAD WEIGHT

 

 

The past.

 

“Are you done yet?” Cailean said.

“No, not yet,” Beau replied.

“This is ridiculous. I don't understand what's taking you so long!”

“I just need one more second, Mom.”

She pounded the door. “You're really starting to tick me off.”

“OK, you can come in now, I'm done,” he said.

She grabbed the doorknob, twisted it, and paused.

“You know something?” she said, and let go of the doorknob. “Now I think you're going to have to wait until I'm ready to help you.”

“Mom?”

She stumbled down the hallway in search of the bit of wine she left on the counter. It would help quiet the inner demon that demanded a reprieve from the nonsense she had gotten herself into.

I told you this was a bad idea.

“Mom, where did you go?”

The concern in his voice didn't matter to her. She would get him when she reached a certain level of satisfaction and not a moment before.

“Please, don't leave me here,” he said, his voice muffled by the closed door. “I really need to get down, Mom!”

“Shut the hell up,” she said, and the effort was weak. Sick and tired, she picked up the bottle and drank until it was empty.

“But, Mom!”

“I swear, this damn kid and his father are going to be the death of me,” she said and ripped the refrigerator door open. The second bottle of wine Emerson had brought her sat on the top shelf, front and center. She would need to finish it before she could face Beau again.

“Please, Mom, I want to get up now!”

She seethed at the sound of his voice. It couldn't be far enough away or behind enough doors.

What more do I have to say?

The wine was gone in no time and she collided with the walls as she made the long journey back to the bathroom. She pushed the door open with a bang and Beau sat up on the toilet, watching her with uncertainty. His limp legs dangled pathetically and his red, moist eyes showed how weak he was.

She stood as still as possible and swayed in her drunkenness. Her hands were on her hips and her breathing was heavy.

“Can't you give me any time to do something for myself? Didn't you hear me when I told you that you were going to have to wait?”

“Yes,” he said, his fear palpable.

“Did you think I was asking or telling?”

“You were telling me.”

“Yeah, I was telling you. So why are you sitting there screaming for me?”

“You waited until I was done and needed your help. You left me sitting here on purpose.”