Lost Highway(26)

“You don’t know that.”

“I’m the catalyst for these feelings, but it could have as easily been Mary or another woman.”

Quill’s scowl darkens, and he pushes me away. “Now I know you’re lying. This couldn’t happen with anyone else. It had to be you, and you know that.”

“I don’t know anything.”

Standing in the kitchen, he sets the machete on the counter and exhales hard. “You’re the nightmare destroying me.”

I walk to the green chair and sit down. “Destroying each other could be what the Lost Highway has in mind for us. I finally forgive myself and love someone, only for that someone to destroy me. You feel for the first time, only to destroy me and end up miserable. We could be each other’s destruction.”

I consider the peace I’ve known since the night Quill lost his virginity. How I can now remember Athena without wanting to punish myself. Whatever this place intended, I’ve changed for the better.

Quill hasn’t destroyed me and neither has the Lost Highway.

“Your life before now wasn’t much to enjoy, Quill. You got up every day and cleared your traps. You hunted bad people, who hunted you. Then you came back here and waited to do it again the next day. How was that any better than how you feel now? Yes, you’re overwhelmed, but you’ve also enjoyed this new life.”

Quill stares at me from the kitchen. He hates me, but he’s also considering my words. This man craves strength. Wallowing in misery isn’t his way. He would never spend a lifetime punishing himself the way I did.

If my words offer Quill freedom from his unhappiness, he’ll accept them. If they don’t, he’ll follow another more permanent and bloody path.





Chapter Twenty-Six


Odessa




The people in the other cabin pack up their cars. They hug each other and allow the dog one final run around the grass before having him jump in the back of a truck. I watch them say goodbye and head back to their lives outside the woods.

“I guess their vacation is over,” I tell Quill, who sulks on the porch. “I wonder if they’re happy to go, or if they wish to remain there longer.”

“Who cares?”

“They’re us,” I say, watching the cars disappear into their woods and leave the cabin abandoned until the next vacationers arrive.

Quill feels defeated. While the sex provides him relief from the desire he loathes, my touch will never return him to the emotionless man he prefers.

“We can be happy here, or we can hope to return to our old lives,” I explain while sitting next to him on the wooden bench.

“We can’t return.”

“You don’t know that. It doesn’t matter. I’ve found peace here.”

“You had sex. Apparently, that’s all it takes to fix your problems.”

“I had plenty of sex before you, and I wasn’t fixed. So either this place is magical and healed me, or you have a mighty powerful penis.”

Quill gives me a side-glance and considers smiling. His bad mood wins, and we sit in silence for a long time.

“I wonder if we’re dead, and this is a kind of purgatory,” I say, thinking of the people from the other cabin again.

“I’m not dead.”

“Think about it. We both had near death experiences before we arrived here. Maybe we only thought we survived.”

When Quill says nothing, I continue, “John strangled me, and I died while imagining killing him. I’d always wondered about this place and sought out information about it. Then in death, I came here. Now I’m trapped until I die and go to wherever dead people go after they die again.”

“I’m not dead.”

“You said Chance thought he killed you.”

“I’m not dead.”

“Okay,” I say when he won’t budge. “In the end, it doesn’t matter if we died or not. We’re here now until we die. Well unless we’re here until we need to find peace from our lifetime struggles. In that case, I might be gone soon.”

Quill frowns at me. Perhaps, he’s bothered by the thought of me leaving.

“Wouldn’t you remember dying?” he asks.

“I remember thinking I was dying, and I killed John right afterward. Isn’t it possible I did die, and the experience of killing him was only my mind’s final electrical responses?”

“How did you drive here if you’re dead?”

“I don’t know. Maybe dead people drive to their fates.” When Quill gives me an odd look, I can’t help laughing. “Americans do love their cars.”

“If I’m dead, what’s the point?”

“What’s the point if you’re alive?”

“The point is to stay alive. If I’m already dead, I have no purpose.”

I realize I’ve talked him into another somber moment, so I rest my head against his arm. “I never belonged anywhere because I wouldn’t let myself. I feel like I belong here. Even if I die soon, I found my home here with you.”

Quill rolls his eyes at my comment. “You keep talking about dying. That’s why you’re a Death Dealer even if you can’t save yourself.”

“You could take me hunting and teach me. I’m a good student.”