The Lurking Man (2 page)

“Please,” she said and continued to look here and there. She slid to the edge of her seat and worry softened her expression. “I just want to know what this is about.”

The man remained motionless at the edge of the light. And although hidden, she could feel his piercing stare.

“I need you to look at the light over your head,” he said.

Cailean thought to defy him, but she remembered the force behind the shove and her uncertainty as to how he had done that. She looked at the light.

“Now, exhale,” he said.

Unsure what this would prove, she drew a deep breath and exhaled. No vapor formed and she did it again with the same result. Her eyes widened and she jumped to her feet. “Please, I'm scared!” she said, and moved towards the shadow man. He retreated into the darkness.

“Cailean,” he said. “You are dead to the world you know and I am the one who brings death to the people. I am called
Sariel, and
I've brought you here, to an aperture. It's a place I've created especially for you, and it is located
between the living and the dead. I've brought you here to show you the sins of your past and to offer you a chance at redemption.”
 
 

Chapter 2

 

 

GUILTY CONSCIENCE

 

 

The past.

 

“Look out your window and tell me what you see,” Cailean said into the telephone.

“I know what it is doing outside, Cailean. Besides, I wouldn't need to look, because no matter what is happening out there, I'm sure there is enough going on for you to make up ten excuses as to why you can't come,” Wilson said.

“You do realize it's snowing like crazy and the roads are completely covered, don't you?”

“I really tried to believe that I wasn't going to get this phone call from you today, I really did. But deep down inside I knew it was coming because I know you and the way you are.”

“The way I am?” she said. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“You know exactly what it means. Beau and I have been played the fool for the last time.”

“Stop being such an ass, Wilson. Think about why you're getting so mad, it's stupid. Do you really think it's safe for me to drive him around in this?”

“I'm not a child that hasn't seen his mother in over a month,” he said. “So I don't think it really matters what I think. You're hurting your son again and you can't even see it.”

“There are severe weather warnings all over the news. My not wanting to drive him around in this is my showing him that I care.”

“We've been through it enough times that I know what you're doing,” he said.

“Tell me, what am I doing?”

“You have your perfect excuse and you won't let it go.”

“Is that what I'm doing?”

“Why don't you just get it over with and say that you don't want to see him?”

“No, I'm not going to say that. I want you to stop putting words in my mouth.”

“I'm just stating what is obvious,” he said.

“I can't believe the things I am hearing out of you. You, the overprotective father of the year, are encouraging me to take his son out in this?”

“He's your son, too. If you would have showed up like you were supposed to, I was going to suggest that you stayed here with him. I was going to go to the other side of the house so you could have your privacy. You wouldn't even know I was there.”

“I would know,” she said, the words oozed with indifference.

“You need to get over it and move on for Beau's sake.”

“There is no way I could step foot in that house again. It's just not possible—especially under the circumstances that I was forced to leave.”

“What other choice did I have?” he said.

The long silence that followed was crammed with unresolved issues and private anger.

“Listen, Cailean, it wasn't my intention to get into it with you,” Wilson said. “I just want you to know that every time you're supposed to come for him it seems like there is always an excuse at your disposal.”

“So what are you saying, now I have control over the weather?”

“No, that's not what I'm saying at all. Two weeks ago you canceled because you said it was raining too hard. A week before that it was a fog or something. I really don't remember and I can't keep track anymore.”

“It was like a monsoon outside and you know it. I drove a few blocks and couldn't see five feet in front of my face.”

“I don't think a waterfall and all of the snow in the world could keep me from seeing my son.”

“Good for you! You're perfect in every way and I am damaged and should be discarded like a piece of trash,” she said.

“I hope you understand that all of these excuses as to why you can't come don't mean a thing to him. The only
thing he wants is to see you and to feel loved by you. I refuse to tell him that you're not coming again. I won't break his heart and spend the next week trying to repair it. Too many times I've had to tell him that he didn't do
anything wrong and that he doesn't deserve to be treated that way. Not by you or anyone else.”
 

Cailean walked to the window and pulled the shade aside. Everything was covered in a six-inch blanket of snow. Ice wrapped sagging power lines and coated the trees in a heavy crystallized blanket. Snowflakes filled the air, encouraged by a beating wind.

“For crying out loud, Wilson, what the hell do you want me to do? We're in the middle of a blizzard!”

“He's been dressed for over two hours and all he can talk about is seeing you.” He laughed. “You should have heard him yesterday. He must have asked me fifty times if you were coming and every time I told him yes, his eyes would light up and he'd have this great big smile take over his face.”

She sighed and looked at the ceiling. “Hey, God, shut the damn storm off would you? I've got to go pick up my son and I don't want to get killed in the process.”

“Stop acting so foolish, Cailean. If you're not coming, then you're going to be the one who is going to tell him, not me. I want you to listen to the disappointment in his voice so you can carry that around with you like I do.”

“You can be such a bastard. I carry enough crap around with me and you know it.”

Wilson breathed into the phone.

“Sadly, I've come to realize that most of it has been your own doing,” he said.

“Is that what you think?”

“I'm not going to debate this anymore because it's merely my opinion. Now, would you like me to put him on the phone?”

“You don't think anything I went through as a kid had to do with it? You can be so infuriating, Wilson.”

“I said I'm not going to debate it,” he said.

Indecipherable noise came through the phone.

“Beau, your mother would like to speak to you!”

“Don't you dare do that, Wilson. I'll hang up on you!”

“Go ahead and hang up then!”

She visualized everything Wilson had said, and as frustrating as it was, she knew every word of it was probably true. “No, I don't want to do that,” she said, and flicked the shade away. She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Go ahead; make me look like the bad guy in all of this.”

“This isn't about you or me and how we feel about each other,” Wilson said. “This is about Beau.”

Cailean rolled her eyes and fought against her frustration. The games Wilson played on her emotions were becoming tiresome, and the way he used Beau as a weapon was nothing short of infuriating.

“I know what you're trying to do,” she said.

“What are you talking about?”

“You're trying to manipulate me into feeling bad so I conform to your will.”

“Please, Cailean, not this . . .”

“I know you're doing it so I come. It is how you try and show your control over me.”

“I have never tried to control you, not once.”

“You have to stop thinking I am around for you to use as your doormat.”

“The way I see it, Beau and I are the doormats. We haven't seen you for the better part of a month,” Wilson said. “And every time you're supposed to come, you don't. I often wish you never stopped attending your therapy sessions. You have some serious problems . . . you just can't see it. I often wonder what our marriage would have been like if you would have stayed the course.”

“Our marriage was a disaster and you know it. And you need to know that I'm not a science project. I'm a person with real feelings that grew up in terrible tragedy.”

“I know that,” he said, and the dissatisfaction of having to live with that fact seeped through the phone. “Listen, I don't want to keep going around in circles about this. I just want you to know that he misses you—that's all. He's questioned if he is the reason you left. It's hurtful to hear him ask these types of questions over and over again. I'm sure we can at least agree that he doesn't deserve that.”

Cailean clamped her eyes shut and rubbed her temples. “I can't do this, not now. I need a little time to think about the things that were just said.”

“What is there to think about?”

“This hasn't been our best moment.”

“You see? You just don't get it. Just tell me when it becomes about Beau being first.”

“Look, I need to hang up the phone now and I'm going to have to call you back,” she said.

“I don't understand why.”

“That's part of the reason why I left without much of a fight. You never understood.”

“And that's the reason why I needed to let you go. You wear that day, that horrible event, like ten-ton shackles that bind your very soul. You've allowed it to strip the compassion right out of you. And the biggest problem is that everyone around you suffers for it, too. No matter how much they love you, they can't escape the ghosts of your past. But it's like I said, it's not about either one of us anymore and I'm not trying to turn it into that. So, what should we do about Beau?”

“Nothing,” she said. “I don't want to tell him anything yet. I need to figure some things out and I'll call you back when I can.”

“Please tell me you're not going to have a drink. You know as well as I do that you're not going to find any answers there.”

Cailean ignored what he said and jabbed a finger into the off button on the phone. She spun on her heels and plopped down on the plush couch. She tossed the phone aside, grabbed her top lip with her teeth, and shook her head. “What a jerk. I can't believe I married him.”

An electronic picture frame on the end table she hadn't noticed until now displayed a new photograph that grabbed Cailean's attention. She and Beau sat close; their heads were tilted and their smiles were wide. They both wore baseball caps, and the sun was so bright that day that it made them both squint.

Cailean picked up the picture frame and placed it on her lap. She studied it for a moment longer and touched Beau's image.

An otherwise suppressed smile parted her lips and her eyes welled with tears. She resisted and quickly erected self-control.

“Yeah,” she said and gave a sullen nod. “How could I ever forget that day?”

The park; the one with the big blue curly slide next to the river. The boats that sped by and created a wake that lapped the big rocks on the shore. She loved that sound but couldn't hear that soothing swish anymore. All she could hear were the terrified screams from people she didn't know.

The picture fizzled and a beautiful sunset with a seagull that rode the breeze came into frame.

Cailean rubbed her eyes and shut off the picture frame. She placed it on the couch beside her, and with a sigh, she stood.

“Yeah, that's just great, something else to add to my guilt.”

She mulled over the exchange she just had with Wilson while she walked up a flight of wooden steps that bowed and creaked under her weight.

“I can never win,” she said, and entered the bedroom. Emerson was on his back with his head propped up on a mound of pillows. He sipped wine and watched courtroom television.

“Hey,” he said, and flashed a smile.

“Hey,” she said, and didn't feel like returning the gesture. She really didn't want to look at him right now let alone have him in her bed.

“Are you OK?” he said.

She tried to ignore the wine bottle and the full snifter glass that waited for her on the nightstand. “I'm feeling a little guilty right now,” she said, and sat heavily on the edge of the bed with her back to him. “Were you listening to the phone conversation?”

“Yeah, I heard some of it.”

“Did you put that picture thing out? The one of me and Beau at the park?”

“Yeah, I put it out there last night after you fell asleep. I was trying to surprise you.”

He came up behind her and kissed her neck. She moved away, unable to hide her indifference to his touch.

“You've been talking about him a lot lately,” he said, and ignored her reaction. “You refuse to decorate and everything is so bare inside here that I wanted to try and brighten the room and make it feel like a home. I figured I would start with something small that had significant meaning to you. I hope you're not upset about it.”

“Where did you get it from?”

“I bought it,” he said. “I downloaded the pictures from my computer at home.”

“I didn't even know you had that picture anymore. I forgot about it and would have preferred it to stay that way. The timing of it was all wrong.”

She hung her head and breathed. The smell of the wine on his breath roused her desire for some.

“I'm sorry, I just thought—”

Cailean waved a hand. “Yeah, I get that. It's just—”

“I'll take the frame away.”