I sat up for several hours in front of the fire with no thoughts at all. The sound of chains filled the valley, but it was soft enough I could pretend to mistake them for something else. Micah had slinked back into the tent and made no noise. I didn’t know if he was sleeping. I didn’t know if he could. With no memory of falling asleep or of waking up, I was already moving through the canyon when the sun came up. My vision was blurred around the edges.
It reminded me of a fever I’d had when I was younger. They had given me sleep medicine in too high a dosage. I had woken up a few hours later forgetting I’d taken anything at all and too numb to even realize I was sick. I got as far as the Warren before they found me, so close to touching its fur. They didn’t think it was funny when they picked me up, but when they brought me back I heard little relieved laughs just outside my bedroom door. It was a dreamy and lost feeling. I was surprised when I finally made it back to the tent. Half-asleep, I thought I might roam the desert forever.
Micah was laying down still, but the door had been zipped open to let the light in.
“I’m not going to take you to her,” he said with his eyes closed, “Can we go to the lake anyway?”
I kneeled down to see him – and because I was too tired to stand anymore. “Sure.”
We were at Lake Erie within the next hour. I didn’t really care. I think he tried to talk to me, maybe you can ask him, but I understood absolutely none of it. He took the terseness for more than it was and began to skulk. I left him by the water’s edge and went to sleep in the woods.
When I woke up, he was still there. I found him at the furthest edge of the jetty and did not even bother to sneak up this time. I was awake now. The lucidity made the situation much more difficult than it had felt before I fell asleep. I sat cross-legged beside him, just inches from the surface of the pool.
“Do you want me to take you home?” I asked.
His hair was wet with lake water. He was looking at the waves when he asked me, “Where will you go?”
I could've gone crawling back to Menagerie. They’d never let me out again, but at least I’d be home. All I would have to do is close my eyes and cover my ears when they eventually dragged her in. My conscience would be clean. I wouldn’t have to lay a hand on her.
My heart felt heavy, half-swollen. A great wave of homesickness came over me. I tried to imagine being back in my bedroom and felt absolutely no relief at all. This was a different kind of longing making itself apparent to me. It was always there, but it wore disguises. I saw it now for what it was and could not imagine having the will to go on. I didn’t know where I would go now. Maybe into the lake.
He turned his head and I moved to cover my face. I looked like I had been crying, even though I hadn’t. I’d slept about five hours in the last week and about seven before that. Micah pulled himself beside me from my blindspot, so that I hadn’t realized how close he had gotten until I felt his shoulder pressing into mine.
“I’m sorry for bringing you here,” I said mostly into my hands. My gloves were back on. I only peeked at him through the cage of my fingers.
“I had a good time.” He shrugged. It made me realize just how much I hadn’t. It was a great path we had carved through the country and I had spent all of it crackling with fear and frustration. The energy had been wasted. When he said that, I wanted to do it again. I wanted to do it right.
I was scared he would ask me to take him home after all. That this would be the last time we spent together and to have it wasted on a game I’d made up in my head. I thought to apologize, again, but this regret was much harder to explain. How can you apologize for not spending better time with someone? Why was that something that I wanted from him?
My memories brushed up against something sharp and stinging. My body curled in on itself.
I’d be taking advantage of him. And I think, because I was damn near catatonic, that he would be taking advantage of me. This was a new competition; we’d learn which of us was more shameless.
It had seemed possible once. That was a lifetime ago, before there was urgency. It was a game I had played with him before I realized he was letting me win. It was a game and he always took it too far. Still, sometimes I thought…
It was too late to be cute or to be suave. And if I can’t be cute and I can’t be suave and I can’t hold the whole world out at arm’s length to study, what can I possibly do? I didn’t understand him like I thought I did. The light took on a different shape. How now? Was it still possible to…?
“I’m quitting my job.” I said.
His eyes lit up. Never in a million years did I think that would be the easier thing to confess.
“Really?” He smiled for the first time since we left the canyon, though it didn’t last long. I was miserable enough for the both of us.
“They’re gonna fucking kill me.” I said next.
He pressed his hand into my shoulder. It felt more like pinning than any comfort. His look was too intense. There was tension and energy thrumming in his wrist.
“You won’t even miss them.” He promised. His voice had taken on a foreign softness.
“And what will I do instead?” It didn’t seem a fair question to ask him. I loved my job. What was left after that was a different and darker obligation. I could feel it on the horizon; and if I could feel it, it meant he knew. His eyes got that thousand yard stare again, looking straight through me and into the abyss. He had tried to mask it in the beginning, but didn't bother much anymore. Not around me. He blinked when he came to.
“She’s in the Gulf. She’s crashing an airboat into a tree right now.”
“Don’t play with me,” I flinched, “Don’t.”
“I’m not.”
“After all this time?” I searched again for anger, but couldn’t find it. I understood perfectly, even if he had kept it from me. But he said that wasn’t the case.
“I couldn’t see it before,” He tapped the side of his glasses, “That’s interesting. I can impose the dam by myself, but I can’t undo it. It was conditional to you. I guess I was waiting for it.”
“Why?” I could avoid the question no longer. “Why have you built up the architecture of your mind around me? How many plans have you built with me inside them?”
“I can’t help it,” His eyes widened innocently, “I think of you.”
I was in too deep. I asked him: “What do you want from me?”
He asked: “Are you going to make me say it?”