When Darkness Falls(27)
In early May, Haley finally got scheduled for a three-day weekend off from work. While she was gone, he slept late, until three or four in the afternoon, but he stayed awake late, too. He felt more comfortable at night. He could go a little closer to the windows. His dreams returned, more violent than ever, but it didn’t matter. Because when he didn’t dream, he slept deeply, without waking what felt like every few minutes to feel his heart racing or to check his pulse. He felt alive again. Awake. If the dreams were the price, it was worth it. Better to feel good when awake and bad when asleep than the other way around.
Lydia called Sunday night, the day before Haley was due back.
“How’s married life?” she said.
“Great.”
“She there?”
“Haley’s visiting some friends.”
Devon opened the refrigerator and took out a beer. He rarely drank these days, but he guessed he’d need it for the talk with Lydia. He sat at the dining table, staring at his row of guitars against the wall.
“You don’t mind?” Lydia said.
“It’s good for her to get away.”
“So marriage isn’t all fun and games.”
He hadn’t wanted to tell Lydia more about his attacks, but he didn’t want her to think the marriage wasn’t working. He filled her in, nearly finishing the beer by the time he got through with the story.
“You sound pretty good for someone so sick,” Lydia said.
“I feel good.”
“So maybe the shrink is helping. Not like that quack our fathers went to.”
“This isn’t like that.”
“God, I hope not. But if it is, get me some drugs while you’re there.”
After the call, Devon lay on the living room floor and shut his eyes. He imagined himself lying on the deck of Al’s boat on Lake Michigan, felt the soothing motion of the waves. Imagined a crisp breeze and the smell of the water. His heart beat evenly, his breathing slowed.
Each muscle relaxed into the heat of the boat’s deck. Devon shifted the image. He was in his car, parking in front of Haley’s old apartment building. It was a hazy night, and the darkness enclosed him. His calm continued, and he saw himself get out of the car, as he’d done many times before they’d gotten married. He climbed the steps over and over. He shifted the scene again and saw himself walk into a grocery store. When he’d imagined that five times without a rise in his heart rate, he opened his eyes.
Continuing his deep breathing, he stood, walked out of the apartment and down the back stairs, hoping that would be less stressful than walking out the front. His heart beat a little fast when he left the apartment building, but it didn’t go crazy. He walked six blocks to the grocery store. He managed to smile at people as he shopped. Devon felt elated. He’d done it. He was barely aware of what he bought.
At home, he put the groceries away and cleaned the apartment in the rush of exhilaration, remembering the wind on his face, the city lights, the smell of car exhaust. He was alive again.
That night in bed, restless, he visualized himself going out for an afternoon walk around the block, then by the lake, with Haley. Watching the boats. His breathing slowed and deepened, and he drifted into sleep.
? ? ?
“I’ll carry these.” Al took Haley’s bags from the back seat of his car.
She’d intended to ask him to come in for a few minutes, but when she opened the door to the apartment, all the lights were out. She turned and kissed Al on the cheek.
“Thanks for the ride. Devon must be asleep, or I’d ask you in.”
“No problem.” Al dropped her backpack and duffel bag inside the door. “Tell Dev I’ll see him tomorrow.”
If Al thought it was strange that Devon would be asleep so early in the evening, he didn’t show it. Devon had told him about the attacks, but Haley wondered if Al had any idea how much they affected him, since the one thing Devon managed to do was go downstairs to The Underground.
Normally, light filtered through the blinds from the streetlights and signs in front of the building, but now, when the door shut, all light bled out of the room. As soon as Haley switched the floor lamp on she saw why. Devon had blocked the windows with cardboard. Her stomach dropped as she stared at square after square of it.
A note on the refrigerator door told her he was at Dr. Richardson’s office and apologized for the cardboard.
The bedroom felt stuffy and stale already. After Haley unpacked, she tried to crack one of the windows, but layers of packing tape across the edges of the cardboard pieces sealed them fast against the window frames. She turned on the ceiling fans in the bedroom, living room, and kitchen.
When she opened the refrigerator door, its cool air felt wonderful on her face. She reached for the orange juice. Her hand froze mid-air. The refrigerator’s top shelf looked normal. Other than the orange juice, it held half a gallon of milk, which was hers, as Devon didn’t drink it, and an apple juice bottle filled with drinking water because they liked it chilled.
Oranges filled the entire second shelf. Bright orange oranges, yellowish-green Florida oranges, giant oranges, smaller, oddly shaped oranges, which Haley realized after a moment were tangerines. They piled on top of each other. A bastion of oranges. The bottom shelf held lemons and limes jumbled together. Front to back, shelves of nothing but oranges and lemons and limes. Haley eased her hand down, afraid her movement might cause an avalanche, and pulled out the cooler drawer. It wouldn’t move. She yanked with two hands. It gave, banging onto the floor. Five grapefruits tumbled across the kitchen. Devon didn’t like grapefruit. With both hands, Haley shoved the drawer back in.