One (17 page)

Part of me actually believed that falling asleep on my own accord would wake me from this nightmare, but that part usually ended up being disappointed. While only my second day I felt as if I had been trapped for years. I knew that I had to continue searching for answers, sitting in my room would do nothing. I searched for some cleans clothes. Blue jeans and a jogging shirt would keep me warm and would not slow me down if I needed to run. I had to chuckle as I wrote that. I wished I would have someone to run from.

I left my room, entered the bathroom and stepped into my shower. The water was cold, but my body quickly adjusted. Even if the power was out across all of Chicago there would be some records I could access downtown. My thought was if I could look into my father’s death then perhaps that would be the answer that would provide my exit. I was ready to accept the possibility that the man who killed my father was set free.

It was the only information I had to go on and the more I thought about how my past nightmares worked the more I realized how it was possible to be exposed to so many different possibilities. However, at the moment I did not want to look into my theories. I just wanted to leave my apartment and get back outside.

I dried off, dressed and took my mother’s computer bag and my backpack with me. Downstairs I prepared a few sandwiches, ate one and stored the others. I could not shake the sickening feeling I had that this could all be a hallucination and there I was preparing like a Boy Scout, but to not be prepared would have been foolish. I always believed it is best to deal with what you know and to disregard what you do not.

As I left the apartment instinctive routine caused me to lock the door; it almost made me crack a smile. The long trek down the stairs that was just as dark in the day as the night before reiterated that this world would not be a place where joy could be found. I quickly walked through the lobby into the garage. I sat on my bike for a moment and looked out the garage door toward Lincoln Park. There were no flames to be seen just a moving cloud of smoke. I pulled my helmet on and started my bike eager to leave.

I made my way toward Lake Shore Drive. I was forced to stop and look out across the lanes of road. The image from Ashley’s room did not properly convey the level of destruction I saw at ground level. Hundreds of vehicles of all shapes and sizes sprawled across the drive with various degrees of damage. I wondered if the reason I wanted a motorcycle and not a car was to be ready for this day. Only a bike would be able to navigate through the vehicle graveyard before me.

About to continue on I found myself staring out over North Avenue beach. That night after Christine agreed to come to my house to watch movies we walked up and down the beach just talking. I told her that I did not want to hurt Jonathan by being with her. I expected her to drown me in emotional babble, but she was rational and said that I had not taken anything from him because she was not his.

I did not think she believed Jonathan would be as upset as he was. We continued to see each other while at school, but did not speak. When we finally did talk it was on North Avenue beach during the festival. He had made new friends and confronted Christine and I. He felt that I had turned away from everything I had ever talked about with him. He called it a betrayal and then turned his back and walked away. Christine looked at me. She knew how important my friendship was with Jonathan. She expected to see the face of a devastated man, but what she found was the eyes of someone glad to be free of the burden of an exhausting friendship.

It was here that I explained what my thoughts were to her, sometimes what I said would inspire her, and often it would frighten her. That beach was where she said she learned about who I really was. She never told me if it was for the good or for the bad.

What lies Beneath

The last time Christine and I came here together was after her Aunt died. She had suffered for months in the hospital battling cancer. Christine’s mother visited every day. We had just come from the funeral. Christine just needed some fresh air and someone to talk to. It was a cold afternoon, not a soul on the beach. After standing silently looking out into the water for what seemed like hours she finally began to talk.

“
I felt bad standing there. I had never seen my mother like that before. She was there when she died. I just don’t think I could do that, to sit there day after day watching someone wither and die. I didn’t even like Clara the much, but my mom loved her…I’m sorry, Timothy. I’m babbling.”

“
It’s pointless.” I replied.

Hearing her pour out her feelings caused me to stop and think before continuing. She knew how I felt about various subjects and I was never afraid to let her know. This was different. This was about someone in her own family. I should have kept quiet.

“
What’s pointless?”

“
Sitting there, watching someone die.”

There were times Christine would ignore me when I went into one of my, what she would call, tirades. I think she did it because when she did listen and found herself agreeing it made her feel bad about herself. That day she engaged me, she wanted to listen to what I had to say.

“
What do you mean?”

“
Do you think that people in that condition really want to be surrounded by people pitying them? No one wants to be remembered like that in that condition. We don’t do that for them, we do it for ourselves.”

I could see that I was upsetting her, but I could not stop myself.

“
How can you say that? It has been proven that sitting with someone, talking to them, touching them makes a difference.”

“
A person who has the possibility to get well yes, this was not that case. You told me when they took your Aunt to the hospital that the doctors knew and she knew she would not return. What did your mother tell you, when she used to visit Clara?”

She did not want to tell me and yet she wanted to continue the conversation. I wanted to keep going until I made my point.

“
She didn’t say much. Aunt Clara just stared up at the ceiling. She was so weak she couldn’t really talk. My mom would just read to her.”

“
No, she was reading to herself. Clara didn’t want your mother there and your mother didn’t want to be there.”

Christine was starting to cry and there I was excited, engaged, I was making my point, hitting my marks. I was enjoying it.

“
You’re wrong! My mother loved Aunt Clara!” Christine cried out.

“
She did and that love turned to obligation. Just like the people today at the funeral, they were there out of obligation and how it would look if they didn’t attend. When Clara checked into the hospital she was ready to die and wanted to die in peace, but because we cannot let go, because we are bound by our needless rituals and our sickening need to keep up appearances we take that peace away by standing over them, watching them die.”

Christine began to walk away from me but I followed her down the beach. The wind from the lake was chilling but I could not feel it. Christine did not want to listen anymore but it was too late, I was not going to let her walk away, I was far from finished.

“
Clara was gone Christine and I am sure she had accepted that, but your mother had not. Since there was still an ounce of breath in her body your mother had no choice but to go. I guarantee you that when Clara finally died you mother felt a sense of relief that it was over, that she was free.”

Christine stopped and turned around looking into my eyes. She was angry. I believed she was going to hit me.

“
Stop it! You’re not fooling anyone, Timothy! I know you care, you feel pain. You can pretend you push emotions aside, but I know that isn’t true. I know what lies beneath. What if it was your mother or father in the hospital like that, would you still speak the same?”

“
What I am saying is what I believe. If my mother or father was in the same condition I would have said goodbye long ago and remembered them as they lived not how they died.”

She turned away from me again and bent over resting her hands on her thighs. I just stood there waiting for her to say something, to give me an opening. It felt like forever. I stood there like an athlete waiting for the sound of the gun, ready to take off.

“
I know you, Timothy. You would not push someone you care about away so easily. Your words don’t match your eyes even when you try to have them lie to me. I remember the look when Jonathan said you betrayed him, you tried to act cold and detached but it didn’t last. It was the look moments later that I remembered, the sadness in your eyes of losing someone you loved.”

“
Not what I lost… what I gained in trade.”

She stopped crying, turned back, and looked at me. It was then she realized what I had done, where all that I said before was going. This was not about obligation, but the pain I went through and the regret I had with what I received.

“
You believe you traded, Jonathan… for me. And now you wish you hadn’t?”

People believe that once you feel love then everything can be worked out. If you can fall in and out of love then it is just as possible to have flashes of love or at least flashes of what you believed was love. I respected Christine and cared for her, but it was not long after that night at Walgreens that I wondered if I truly loved her.

“
Jonathan was wrong. Not I. You said it yourself, I did nothing wrong. I didn’t take anything from him because he never had anything.”

“
Then what was this all about?”

I could have told her that like all people my emotions were taking control of me. My mind wanted to walk away from Christine months ago, but my heart was frightened to leave. I wanted to be alone, but I did not want to be lonely. I could have told her the truth. I could have told her how I felt.

“
I love you, Christine. It’s just… it hurts.”

I gave her enough to pull her away from where I was not ready to go. She just stared at me. I believed she was contemplating, going over everything I had said and did not say. She hugged. I could only assume she decided to wait it out. Perhaps she really did love me. Perhaps she was just like me.

A Final Detour

The wind blowing across Lake Shore Drive was just as cold as that day. There was so much I had done to Christine and yet she stayed with me. The more I looked back at what I had done the more I could understand parts of her letter to me. Ashley’s words crept into my mind. When you are all alone and the only voice you can hear is your own, you find out the truth about yourself. The words of a teenager… a statement that continues to ring true with every memory I recollect.

I revved the engine to try to drown out those thoughts. I focused on the road and drove down the street having to stop frequently to navigate around the numerous accidents. I could not help but look at all the buildings and store fronts thinking about all the people who normally would be there and wondering where they were now.

I reached the outskirts of downtown Chicago. A fire in the distance caught my attention. It was coming from an office building near State Street. Moments later, I arrived on the block of the building. I stopped pulling off my helmet and looking up toward the sky. A news helicopter had crashed into the upper floors of the office building. The resulting fire was still burning and had spread to several floors. I just stood there staring at it then I saw it from the corner of my eye.

It was quick. I whipped my head around and caught a glimpse of it. A shadowed figure similar to what I thought I had seen at Lincoln Park High school. It was fast, running behind an office building across the street. My heart rate increased. I strapped on my helmet. I was determined to find out what it was. It could have been the reason I was there or perhaps someone else trapped within my nightmare.

By the time I made it to the building the figure had turned onto the next block. I raced between the buildings, my heart began beating rapidly I did not believe it was a delusion. It was real. I turned down the block and realized just how fast the figure was. It had traveled over a block within seconds. It turned down an alleyway. I followed quickly behind it screaming out.

“
Wait! Stop!”

I leaned the bike as far as I could and turned down the alleyway. It was covered in a cloud of smoke from one of the buildings. I gunned the engine and focused on the figure until it disappeared into the smoke. I would not lose it. I could not see anything but almost felt it ahead of me. I would not let it escape.

The smoke was black, choking me, but I would not stop. I tore through it in an instant. I went from the shadows into the light. I broke free from the smoke and saw the figure. No longer a shadow, I could now see it was a woman. She stood at the end of the alley blocking my path. I jerked my bike to the left and lost control falling into a slide.

My motorcycle slammed into a car and stopped in the middle of the street with me directly behind it. I could see the look in her eyes. She was shocked to see me. Her eyes, they apologized to me and with a blink waved goodbye. I had finally found another living being and I was about to die.