Rayne & Delilah's Midnite Matinee(97)

“They discharged me, and I had nowhere to go. No job. No money. I’d finally realized I had a problem. Cole and his new girlfriend were kind enough to leave me my bass and amp when they dumped me at the ER, and I pawned them for a month’s rent in some roach-farm flophouse in south Jackson. So here I am. No skills other than playing bass. No education other than the road. I get work washing dishes out at Cracker Barrel. And I start trying to figure out how to live a life. I see a job posting for a janitor here at TV Six. I get the gig. They figure out I have some technical know-how from my music days, so they put me behind a camera and an editing console. I wake up one day and it’s twenty-plus years later, and here I am still.”

He pauses for a moment. “That’s getting left behind. And even then, you can have a decent life. You know why I’m still here? It’s because I’m content. Maybe even happy. I found my path. My life is simple. I wake up in the morning. I eat my Cheerios, drink my coffee, think my thoughts. I go home after work and sit on my back patio and pet my dog and listen to music and myself breathing. It feels good to be alive and exist. Most things haven’t worked out for me—especially love—but that’s all right. I’m not as pretty as I used to be. More of my life’s behind me than in front of me. Who knows how many years I took off it while I was partying. But I’m a lot healthier now, if you can believe it.

“I get lonely sometimes, but so does everyone else. We’re all looking for some sort of salvation in something. Sometimes we try to find it in people. We find our salvation. It slips through our fingers. We find it again. We get left behind. Living is hurting, but I’ll take living over the alternative any day. Consciousness is a marvelous gift. It took almost dying to make me realize that. Hell, I’m just rambling now. Anyway, having said all this, you did not get left behind.”

“Feels like I did,” I say through sniffles, wiping my nose with the back of my hand.

“My girlfriend left me and left me good. Josie? She didn’t leave you. People who love each other never really leave each other. If I know y’all, you won’t be two steps out that door before you’re texting about what a pain in the ass I am.”

“Wrong.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, we like you.”

“My efforts have been in vain,” Arliss says, his eyes twinkling. “Here’s the deal, kid. Josie is going out and finding her path. You gotta find yours. Sometimes that takes people in different directions for a while. But you’ll stay friends and be okay.” Arliss pats my shoulder. “Here’s one more thing: it’d be real easy to think that you can protect yourself from hurt by just never loving anyone. Kinda like how you can keep from getting hit by a bus by never leaving the house. But that’s no way to go through life. Better to love people and get hurt. No one ever says on their deathbed they wish they’d loved fewer people.”

I dab a tear away with my index finger. “Arliss?”

“Yeah?”

“I think you’re a really good person, no matter how hard you try to convince people you aren’t.”

“Let’s don’t get carried away.”

I wipe my eyes. “Promise you won’t make fun of me for what I’m about to say?”

“No.”

“Thank you for being here for me. Not even my own dad was. Thanks for that, and for helping me do this for so long.” I wish I had something better to say, but I come up empty—sort of the way of things tonight.

Arliss looks at the floor. He clears his throat a couple of times. “Yeah.” It might be my imagination, but his voice cracks a little. He nods, stands, drags the chair back off set. “It’s my pleasure,” he says quietly, his back to me.

“Liar.”

He turns, half smiles, and takes his position behind the camera. “I still don’t want to be here all night. So let’s nail this intro.”

I take a deep breath that stutters as it fills my lungs and exits. I’ve made a decision. Arliss’s pep talk has given me the sliver of courage to end this thing I created. To give it the finish it deserves. And then I’ll go find my path. I thought it was this, but I’m not strong enough to go it alone.

I steel myself to kill off this part of me, the one beautiful and exceptional thing I had (and it wasn’t even that beautiful or exceptional). It’s run its course. I don’t know what I’ll say. I decide to speak from my heart, and if it’s a calamity, so be it. I wish I could give it a more dignified send-off.

Arliss raises his hand one more time. “In five, four, three, two…”

I want so badly to cry again, it nauseates me to button it in. But I know I have this one last chance. Because even at his most patient and accommodating, Arliss isn’t going to let me try this twenty times. We should have ended with Josie here instead of my limping across the finish line alone. I silently pray to get it right. This once, let me be as good as Josie.

“Hello, ladies and ghouls, I’m Delilah Darkwood. You may have noticed I’m by myself this week. So I guess I want to say something.” I start to crack. I breathe the lump back down. “This is going to be the—”

There’s a loud knock at the outside door. Great.

“The hell,” Arliss mutters. “We’re never gonna get through this.” He stomps back up the corridor to answer the door.