The Night Before(74)

I have not slept. I have cycled through terror at being blamed for what happened to Jonathan Fielding, and relief that Gabe saved me and that I might not have been found. But then all of that disappeared and left me with the horror that another man might be dead, and dead because of me.

Gabe stayed with me until daybreak Friday morning. Sitting beside the bed watching me sleep, although I was only pretending. I didn’t want him to know what was on my mind. The doubts about what he had done to Jonathan, whether it had been necessary and what that said about Gabe. And I didn’t want him to come closer to me, to touch me or try to comfort me, because he had been looking at me and speaking to me in ways that were unfamiliar. And that made me worry that I never really understood him or our relationship. And why would I? This is my defect, and I should have known that it applied not just to men on dates, but to everyone. Even my closest friend. And, perhaps, even to my family.

In the morning, he got a call from Rosie. I saw him answer it and speak to her calmly, saying he would be right over.

“What happened?” I asked him when he ended the call.

“The police have come to her house. They’re looking for you—just like I said they would.”

“Does Rosie know where I am?” I asked.

“Of course she does. It was all part of our plan to keep you safe. But I have to go now and I might not be back for several hours. It would seem strange to the police if I didn’t try to help them find you. There’s food in the spare refrigerator—do you remember where it is?” he asked me.

“In the utility room,” I answered him. We used to hide beer there when we were in high school.

“Right,” he said. “And remember—if you hear three thuds from up above, that’s your cue to go out the Bilco hatch. But not unless you hear them, okay? Do you understand? The neighbors could see you.”

I nodded, and he leaned over onto the bed and kissed my forehead. His eyes were wide with excitement like this was some top secret military operation and he was our general. He had never been our leader when we were younger. It was always Joe, or me at times. He liked to follow. I used to think it made him feel safe to be with strong people, people who could stand up to his brother the way I had done. Maybe that’s why I had never seen this look before. Maybe it wasn’t strange but just new—a new Gabe who had grown from the shadows after Rick left for good to join the army.

This is what I told myself as he walked up the stairs. The bright light of day rushed into the dark space, but then disappeared along with Gabe when he closed the door behind him.

He returned sometime that afternoon. I don’t know what time it was or how long he’d been gone. I only know that it had felt like forever.

I had found sandwiches in the refrigerator. Peanut butter and jelly on white bread. I used to eat those in hoards when I was little, and it was both sweet and eerie that he remembered and had gone to the trouble to fix them, wrapping them carefully in plastic baggies. There were bottles of water and grape soda.

I used the bucket to pee, like he said, and emptied it in a utility sink and ran the water hot for a long time. Then I ran it cold and splashed it on my face. I ran it through my hair, which still smelled of Jonathan Fielding, if that was even possible. But it had been wrapped in his hands, pressed against his chest. The smell of him, of his cologne and his sweat, made me feel sick inside.

Is he dead? I wondered this every minute Gabe was gone.

When he returned, the light was not as bright when it came through the door, or peeked through the tiny windows, so I imagined it was late afternoon.

“What happened?” I asked him. “Is he still alive?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “But Rosie and Joe are fine. The police won’t leave them alone. We’ll give it one more day and then I’ll get you out of here. You’ll ride in the trunk of my car and we’ll drive until we find someplace safe.”

“What about Melissa?” I asked. He’d said she was traveling for work, but surely she would be home for the weekend. And one more night would make it Saturday, unless I had lost track of time entirely.

“Don’t worry about my wife. She’s away for work. She won’t come back until we’re gone.”

“And Rosie…” I started to cry then. “I don’t want to leave, Gabe. I don’t want to leave what’s left of my life!”

He took me by the arms then and shook me hard. The excitement left his face and what came instead was anger. The general dressing down his soldier.

“I’ve gone to a lot of effort. Taken a lot of risks and thrown away my life to save you. You could be a little bit grateful and do what you’re told!”

I was quiet then, choking back my tears. Choking back the terror that was now raw and full-on.

“Okay?” he asked me, his voice growing softer.

I nodded. “Okay, Gabe.” I was afraid to say anything else.

“I have to leave as soon as Rosie calls again.”

The call didn’t come for a long time. Hours upon hours. I asked Gabe what time it was, but he said it was best if I didn’t know. He said it would make me anxious.

He went upstairs to speak to her, then he returned. He said I should sleep. So I lay back down and pretended to sleep and felt his eyes never leave me as he sat by the mattress.

The next call came when it was light again. He shook me, though I wasn’t asleep, and told me he had to go.