The Lurking Man (4 page)

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Authors: Keith Rommel

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BOOK: The Lurking Man
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“No,” she said and shook her hands in an attempt to dislodge the feeling.

Sariel giggled ever so gently. “Oh yes, it will consume your body soon, and when it does there is no going back. Do you wish to stop it?”

She stepped forward, hopeful. “Is there a way?”

“Study the details of your life and consider my offer,” he said.

“I want you to tell me everything I need to know so I can accept whatever it is you want so you can make this stop.”

“No,” he said. “There are no shortcuts. You must understand what your life decisions were so you can make a choice absent of fear and desperation.”

“Why? I already know that I don't want to feel the way I'm feeling now. I'll do it, whatever it is you need, just make this stop.”

“It cannot be done that way.”

“This lesson is pointless when you have told me I will despise who I was.”

“This lesson means everything,” he said. “What I am going to ask of you in exchange is inconceivable. We have this one chance only, and once you either accept or deny my offer it cannot be undone.”

His foreboding stifled her desire to inquire further. Filled with worry, she flexed her hands, and although she had full motion and total coordination, she couldn't feel her fingertips when they touched her palms.

She walked the perimeter of light, moving dangerously close to the inky partition. While she attempted to contemplate the grievous situation she found herself in, jumbled, pushy voices interrupted her reverie.

“What?” she said and stopped to listen. “What did you just say?”

“What is it you hear, Cailean?”

She didn't want to say it but suspected he might know. “People are accusing me of horrible things! I thought you said we were alone!”

“We are.”

The voices and their words became distinct and they came from all around.

“No,” she said. “We're not! I can hear them speaking right now!”

“What are they telling you?”

She covered her ears. “That I was a horrible mother, wife, and person. They say I was selfish, an abuser, and a drunk.”

Her hands were forced from her head and pushed to her sides.

“What you're hearing are thoughts from others close to you. Defend yourself against the accusations if they are untrue.”

“I can't,” she said, defeated. “I can't remember a damn thing.”

The voices stopped.

“Because everything they've said to you are truths.”

“How am I supposed to know that?”

“Because I know what's inside of you and what has made you tick.”

The intemperate weather conditions continued to worsen and work on her patience. How could she be expected to stave off accusations when she lacked knowledge? And what if she were to demand the question and just guess at the door?

Although the idea was enticing, she submitted to the fact that taking a guess wouldn't be possible. She wanted out of the storm, out from underneath the light, and away from the creature in the dark that stalked her like a buzzard waiting for her to drop. But no matter how frustrated she became, her need to know how she got trapped in a
ten-foot circle with her own hell lurking around in the dark prevailed.
 

“How long am I going to have to endure this?” she said.

“You have yet to endure anything. You are still ignorant and are merely consumed with a persistent desire to know. But when all things come together and you start to understand, that's when you will be tested.”

His words were infuriating and her composure began to break down. She needed something, anything to keep from having to face them.

“What about this light and the damn snow and its unrelenting barrage?” she said. “It's chaos here and it's driving me crazy. The blackness that surrounds me is like a living cage. How long will I have to tolerate it staring back at me as if I was this horrible person as you and those voices have claimed me to be?”

“For as long as it takes.”

The answer was provoking and a sudden anger coursed through her body.

“And what if I refuse to go along?” she said, forgetting her trepidation. “What will you do, push me around and keep me trapped?”

The snow stopped instantly and the quiet reminded her of her fear. It came into her body through her head and feet and occupied her chest.

Right in front of Cailean, a fist emerged out of the darkness and into the light, moving slowly and precisely. The wrinkly white, age spot-dotted skin shimmered, and long, thick fingers unfolded. Lengthy, tangled fingernails held her gaze.

“Come closer,” Sariel said, and wiggled a gesturing finger. The fingernails scraped together and sounded like the squeak of tree branch swaying in a battering storm. The way the light reflected off of his skin made her squint
and she remained still, rendered immobile by what she saw.
 

“Take my hand and I will leave you as you are,” he said. “You will not have to worry about the overhead light, snow, or your confusion. The only thing you will have to look forward to is your judgment.”

She clasped her hands behind her back and stepped far enough away that she was out of his reach. “As much as I want to, as enticing as your offer is, I cannot.”

“No,” Sariel said. “You couldn't even if you wanted to. The moment I brought you here I planted a seed of curiosity in the essence of your very being. The constant longing of trying to understand who you are will continue to grow and consume you. And if you don't find answers here you will never know because I am the only one that can help you.”

For Cailean, there was no denying that there were many unanswered questions that needed resolution before she could move on. What was it about the picture of Beau in the park that caused her such distress? And what had she done to her son that consumed her with such self-hatred and guilt? And what were the three events that Sariel had said shaped her life?

“You are right,” she said, and turned her back. “I understand that the answers I seek are here, underneath this light. And although I am unhappy here, I am as you suggest—at your mercy.”

The low, raspy wheeze of his breathing remained undisturbed and near as he seemed to contemplate her surrender.

“Very well,” Sariel said, and withdrew his hand.

And with that, the sound of snow that crunched underfoot moved away from the light and the darkness progressively deepened.

Bang!

Cailean shrieked at the sudden noise, and in unison, the circle of light she stood in expanded by a full two feet. She spun around, confounded by what she saw.

The snow was packed tight where the edge of darkness had receded. Sariel's colossal footprints were parallel to Cailean's and she remained focused on that. They walked
the border of light and dark at an arm's distance away from each other.
 

“My God,” Cailean said with her mouth agape. 

Chapter 4

 

 

ONE MORE DRINK

 

 

The past.

 

“Why do I feel like I'm always defending myself?” Emerson said.

“I'm warning you, you should just leave.”

“I pay the rent!”

“I could care less what you pay for, Emerson. I live here, not you.”

“My name is on the lease, Cailean. I have as much right to be here as you.”

“You think so?”

“Yes, I do.”

“I don't think you want to play that game with me. The way I see things from here is that you are stuck with the bill. I'll bust up the house, crap in all the corners, and it will take you months to have me evicted.”

“Why are you talking like that? I wouldn't evict you and you know it. I'd pay the rent for as long as you needed.”

“So why are you arguing the point that I've asked you to leave? Not that it wasn't nice of you to get me a roof over my head, but you have me stuffed in this small condo and I can't get away from you if I tried. I swear, I feel like you picked this place on purpose so you could watch my every move.”

“That's ridiculous!”

“Well, it seems ridiculous that you're fighting with me because I'm looking for a little bit of space to try and figure things out.”

“What am I supposed to do?”

“Leave me alone!” she said. “That's it. Just leave me alone when I ask.”

“I can't, not when things are like this. I don't even understand why your anger is directed towards me when I thought we were having a meaningful conversation.”

“Really, Emerson? I've had enough stress for one day and if you're not going to leave, then I will.”

“You don't have to leave.”

“I don't care if I have to sleep in my damn car. All I'm asking for is a little space so I can clear my head.”

“OK,” Emerson said. “Let's slow things down here and calm ourselves. Emotions are running high and we're both on edge and I think we're both overacting.”

She clenched her fists and stomped her foot. “I'm not the one overreacting! The way you're minimizing my feelings is seriously pissing me off!”

“Calm down, Cailean. Why are you getting so excited over something so small?”

“Because instead of offering me your full support, you use the tension between me and Wilson to make judgments and criticize me and him. It's not your place. I know neither one of us is perfect, but you don't need to point it out all the time. You are so passive-aggressive and don't even realize it.”

She walked out of the bedroom and heard Emerson grab his glass of wine and hurry after her.

“C'mon, Cailean, don't you think this is being blown way out of proportion?”

“The day I left Wilson's house I promised myself that I would never allow anyone to mistreat me again. I've been putting up with bad men long enough.”

He mustered a soft tone. “I know and I'm sorry about that,” he said, and reached to touch her arm.

She spun on her heels and smacked his hand.

“I don't want you touching me!”

He rubbed the sting the slap left behind. “Ouch.”

“Keep your hands off of me.”

“This is insane. I wasn't trying to criticize you,” he said. “All I was trying to say is that it makes me crazy to see you getting hurt by him. I understand you've been through a lot in your life. And yes, I understand you don't want to talk about it. It's just that I think you've been through enough and maybe if you try and open up a little more, you might not get angry so quick.”

“And I think you should worry about yourself a little bit more and look at what you're becoming. Show me your friends and I will show you who you are.”

“What?”

“That's what my father used to say to me when I was a kid. If you stop to think about it there's a ring of truth to it, isn't there?”

Emerson stared at her, his expression soft with subtle hints of regret.

“You hang around me,” she said. “So what does that make you?”

He closed his eyes and shook his head. “I can't win whether I answer that or not.”

“It makes you a loser and a drunk. That is exactly what it makes you.”

“Why are you carrying on like this? It wasn't that big of a deal. Can't you just let it go?”

“No, I can't,” she said. “What is happening now, this is your fault. You don't know when to shut your mouth.”

“You are acting like I was on the other side of the phone with him, coaching him on what to say just to push your buttons.”

She stared at him. “You really don't get what I'm saying to you, do you? Are you too big and dumb to get it?” She shook her head and walked down the stairs. “Idiot.”

“Why must you constantly use insults against me?” Emerson said, following her. “Tell me, who was there for you when your world started to fall apart?” He pointed at himself. “In case you forgot, that was me.”

Cailean entered the kitchen and immediately started to remove dirty dishes, empty beer bottles, and an embarrassing amount of fast food wrappers off of the counters.

“And it sounds to me like you're saying that as if you deserve a medal or something,” she said.

“No,” he said, and shook his head. The fat underneath his chin shook. “I did what I did to help.”

“Just to help me, huh?” She laughed. “Yeah, sure, I can believe that.”

Emerson set the glass of wine down on the bar top portion of the counter. “That's low. Maybe you don't realize
how hurtful it is to hear you say my actions were anything but pure.”
 

A devious smile pulled her lips apart. “I said, sure, I can believe that.”

Emerson watched her for a second, unsure of her sincerity.

“Not once have I heard you say thank you for getting you a place and taking care of your bills,” he said. “I'm not even sure you notice or appreciate the things I do for you.”

“I've thanked you in other ways. If you don't know what I meant by that or it's not good enough, then that's too bad.”

“Hearing it would be nice.”

“Don't hold your breath,” she said.

“You can be so mean sometimes.”

“And you have a unique ability to get underneath my skin faster than anyone I've ever known. I've already warned you that you should leave here before things get even uglier between us.”

“You know I can't leave things like this.”

“So you'd rather keep making things worse?”

“I don't like things unfinished, especially when they're messy like this.”

“Just go! Get the hell out of here!”

“Why won't you let me get any closer to you?”

She fixed him with a resentful stare. “People who try and get close to me end up getting hurt.”

“I care about us,”Emerson said.

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