Her Eyes (6 page)

"Are you sure you'll be okay here, all by yourself?"

"I'm a big girl. besides, I have Win."

At the sound of his name, Win jumped onto the couch and put his head in her lap. Damn dog knew he wasn't supposed to be on the couch, but the look of them together kept Frank from saying anything. They both seemed content to keep each other company while waiting for him.

"You used to want me to lock up Win when I went out."

A deep crease appeared on her forehead, like she was trying to remember saying that. Then her pleasant smile returned, and she rubbed the dog's head. His tail wagged, and he rolled onto his back as a hint for a belly rub.

"Don't lock him up. That would be terrible."

He would never understand that fickle dog. Whatever enchanting qualities Catherine had picked up at the hospital worked on spoiled rotten mutts too. “Call me if he gives you any trouble."

"I will."

Frank went out the door. Catherine and Win followed him, stopping on the wraparound deck and waving goodbye as he pulled out of the driveway. They sat there on the top step while he drove down the road. She watched him leave, instead of waving him on while sitting in front of the television.

"What's gotten into you, Catherine?” he asked as he looked into the rear view mirror at them.

Frank had always imagined having a marriage like his parents'. His mother took care of the house while his father went out and earned a living. Mom had her church nights and occasionally babysat the neighbor's boys. They always had dinner together as a family though. Dad would help Mom clear away the dishes. They would stand in the kitchen together, her washing, him drying. It seemed like they never enjoyed being away from each other. At night they would tuck him into bed. Dad would read him a story while his mom hugged him and listened too.

When he married Catherine, the hopes for a similar situation quickly vanished. She had him locked into his vows. His mother had warned him. She had tried to tell him that Catherine wasn't the right one, but he hadn't listened. His father had only given him the talk that when a man took a wife, it was for life. Those were ideas from a forgotten time, but that's how Frank was raised. He had old-fashioned values.

As he drove he let a little hope light in his heart. Maybe he would get a good wife now. He wanted to fall in love with Catherine again. He only hoped she would really love him this time instead of returning to her previous behavior.

A half an hour later, he pulled up at the jobsite. Twenty men stood around, staring at the support beam and concrete column. He didn't need twenty guys standing around. Downtime could cost him a fortune.

A trailer had been set up on site to use as an office. Frank marched inside to find his foreman, Irwin, sitting at the desk with his feet propped up. At the sight, the foreman straightened up and picked up the schedule for the project.

"Give me that.” Frank jerked the clipboard out of his hand. He hadn't meant to behave with so much anger, but he wanted to get back to Catherine, not watch guys stand around with their thumbs up their asses.

He went through the list of tasks and the timetable for each. Then he glanced through the supply list. At least one thing had been done correctly. All inferior items were marked and the supplier supposedly contacted over the problems. Sometimes he wondered about the inferior items. It wasn't anything he could say with certainty, but almost every time, Irwin did the ordering, something seemed to go wrong.

"Irwin, get out there and tell the men to start taking down the far bank."

"We were going to hit that next week."

Frank locked his gaze on him, giving him the gentle reminder of who was the boss around here. “Do it now. I'll call this supplier and get this crap fixed."

Irwin didn't move until Frank motioned for him to get outside. At least these guys could move dirt. It was common sense, and they owned the equipment to move dirt. As for the rest of it, who knew what he could manage. He just hoped he could hurry back home.

Catherine sat on the porch with Win until she saw the taillights on Frank's truck disappear. How many times had she seen him rush off to work while she sat at home waiting? She wasn't sure. It felt familiar. Once again everything seemed like a movie, a crash course she hadn't known she'd taken. She knew the scenes but the essence of it remained lost.

Her skin chilled and she decided to go inside. She reached for the door and stopped. Win started growling behind her. The sound, ominous threatening, a memory tickled the back of her mind. A memory of ... a gun ... Win ... and then nothing. When Catherine turned around to find his hackles rise, teeth bared, and drool dripping from his gaping jaws. A flash of Win on top of her, his jaws wide open edged to consciousness.
What happened to me? What hasn't Frank told me about how I ended up in the hospital?

"I'll never tell."

"Win?"

He jumped forward, stopping before his snapping jaws made contact with her flesh. Catherine was terrified, then she realized why. That strange voice in her head rose, filling her. She stood alone on her porch but she wasn't alone and maybe she never would be. That voice, that presence tried to dominate her.

"Run while you still can. That dog will kill us both."

"I don't think that dog wants to hurt me, only you."

The dog rose again, moving until his mouth was right beneath her blue eye, snapping and barking. From the side she heard someone yell. It was Jim. She turned her head, only a little, but saw a shotgun in his hands. The gun aimed at Win.

"Win. Come,” yelled Jim. “Get away from her.” He took a step closer with the shotgun.

"Stop, Jim,” she yelled while the dog's focus stayed on her. “Just give me a minute."

"Whoever you are? Get out or that dog will rip us both to shreds."

I belong here. You're the intruder.

"Then maybe I let the dog take us both".

"Win. Leave her alone!"

Win lunged again, and she saw Jim take aim. Win's mouth stopped an inch before her face. A flash of that mouth so close to hers. No. That's not right. It wasn't hers ... someone else's ... tearing, ripping, pain.

"I hate him, I don't want to die, I want out."

She couldn't back up any farther, or even pull the door open to run inside. Letting the dog die wasn't an option though. She didn't know why, but Win was important to her.

"Don't shoot, Jim. Don't!"

Win snarled again, and she felt the cold drain from her body. Whatever, whoever had been inside her, fled. She was pretty sure they hadn't gone completely. Maybe the demon fell back into the subconscious parts of her mind. It hid from Win, waiting for another chance to come forward.

Oh shit, am I possessed?

She felt her knees give, turning to jelly. Win sniffed the air in front of her and stopped his aggression. At once, he went to her, licking her face—the side with the green eye—and wagging his tail. Jim ran up, still pointing his gun at the dog.

"Are you okay?” The sound of his voice would've been friendly if he had would put away that gun.

"Yes. I had a little episode. I think Win knew it was coming. That's what made him go a little crazy."

"Episode?"

"I think my head is a little screwed up. That's all.” She pointed to the gun. “Could you lower that? It's making me nervous."

"I'm sorry. I thought old Win here was going to attack you again.” Jim looked down at the dog but didn't pet him. He even took a step or two back when the dog edged in his direction. “Strangest thing I ever saw."

Catherine stood and straightened. “Would you like to come in for a glass of water? You look a little flustered."

"No.” He stared at Win. “Would you like me to take Win to my house until Frank gets home?"

"Oh no.” She sounded defensive, hell she felt defensive. Something was seriously wrong in her head and only this crazy dog had scared it away. “I really want him with me.” She reached down to pet him, happy to have his warm fur in her hand. “He's really a good dog. I think in his own way he was trying to help me."

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely."

"Okay.” Jim started back across the yard to his home, pausing to look back at her. “Holler if you need me."

He shook his head, probably thinking that she'd lost her mind. She didn't care. Whether she was going crazy or worse, she needed Win with her. For some reason, she thought her life depended on it.

"I'm okay.” She said it more to herself than to Jim, who was too far away to hear. “This is a side effect of the surgery and all. Nothing more. I need to act normal, and I'll be normal."

She went back into the house, Win on her heels. He followed her into the kitchen. It was almost lunchtime and she was famished, although the cupboards were still bare. There were a few leftovers from last night. She dished some out, making sure to give Win a bite or two of sausage. When it was heated and sitting in front of her, she couldn't touch a bite. Her stomach had turned into knots inside her.

There had to be a logical reason that she heard voices in her head. She didn't think she'd gone crazy. It could be a tumor, but they'd run so many tests on her in the hospital that surely someone would've noticed something.
Was that why I was there in the first place? Why my face was operated on? Why do I have a new eye? Did I have a tumor and it's back?

Catherine sat in the kitchen floor with Win. He wagged his tail, kissing her on the nose. How any dog could have such rancid breath she would never know. She rubbed the sides of his face.

"I wish you could tell me what was wrong. Am I crazy?"

The dog tried to talk, at least as much as a dog can. He gave a half bark ending in a howl. She wasn't sure what it meant. Win seemed to know something. She scrubbed his head again.

She also looked pretty silly sitting on the floor with the dog. Maybe some fresh air would do them both some good. Catherine opened the door and walked Win to the back porch.

She liked the back better. It seemed clean, as if there was something wrong in the other areas of the house. She couldn't put her finger on it, but the back was brighter, healthier, unspoiled. Catherine followed the steps down to the manicured lawn. Frank certainly had a talent for making things beautiful. Here she could get better, leave the incident behind. She would get better, and the voices would be gone.

She lay down on the grass, Win putting his head on her stomach. It occurred to her that he was being too friendly. In some ways, maybe he thought being around her was for her safety too.

"Catherine?” Frank's voice came from inside the house.

"Out here.” She rose up, disturbing the dog who gave a half bark of disapproval.

"Are you okay? I got this call from Jim."

She smiled. Jim was a good guy. Neighbors like him were hard to find. Few cared what anyone around them did, much less brought a gun to a neighbor's defense. She just hoped he never hurt Win.

"I'm fine. I spooked Win and Jim ran over afraid that he'd been attacking me.” She reached over and wrapped her arm around Win. “Don't worry. Win was just looking out for me."

"Are you sure? Jim usually doesn't get upset over nothing."

She didn't want to upset her husband. He had a right to know something strange had been happening. Of course she would have to give him a watered-down version, or he would haul her back to the hospital again.

"I've had some trouble, not really a seizure, but something isn't quite right yet. Win seems to pick up on it. It makes him a little nuts. He wouldn't hurt me. I think he tries to scare it out of me."

His eyes grew wide. “We need a doctor then."

"No, Frank. I need to be here with you and him. I'll be fine when everything settles down."

"I don't know what to do here."

"Trust me.” She reached for his hand and gently pulled him to the ground. “I don't want to ever go back to that hospital. Everything I've ever wanted is here."

"Then stop frightening me."

He looked cute when he worried. She couldn't remember him ever showing so much concern, or devotion. Then again, she didn't connect with any old marital emotions. Beneath the surface, there were what she could only describe as memories of emotions, but they were convoluted and some how didn't fit with her life with Frank. It was like she was on the outside looking in at someone else's thoughts. Or more like she was watching someone else's memories be played back as if from a grainy old movie. All she had was the here and now. That would be enough.

"Why don't we go out to dinner?"

"No. Let's go shopping. I want food I've cooked. And I know you tried to bring me some decent meals while I was sick but, honey, that wasn't my own cooking. I appreciated it, really did, because that hospital stuff could kill. They don't season anything."

Frank laughed and rolled backward until he lay flat on the ground. Win took it for an invitation and sat in the middle of his chest. When he complained, Win licked him.

"Okay. You two win. We'll eat at home tonight."

He rolled Win off his chest and got up. Frank helped Catherine to her feet. She held his hand and they went to the car. She only let go after he opened the door for her to slip inside. For some reason, she wanted to keep touching him. Every moment, every second was precious, to be savored as if they might end without warning.

They had mild conversation in the car. Frank talked about work. It seemed he didn't have anything else happening in his life except for his business. Something about Irvin or Irwin tickled at the edge of her mind. It was like she knew she should remember him, but for some reason just didn't. Something about Irv ... yeah, Irv ... felt wrong. She liked listening to her husband though. His voice was deep and smooth, reminding her of molasses. She closed her eyes as he spoke, letting the sound run over her. It comforted her in ways she didn't fully understand.

"I must be boring you."

She opened her eyes and looked at him. “No. I love listening to you talk. I missed it.” She leaned over and rested her head on his arm. “It's like we've been apart for years instead of weeks."