The sweet surrender of silence forces me to live aloneThis song starts with the Devil and ends with the Fire Eater and I wouldn't change it now that the dark comes early every night, now that heaven and hell have collided in my world, now that Ben has ceased to appear at all half the time or maybe he has appeared and I didn't see him in the tangle of limbs, in the breathless blackness. If I reach out it doesn't matter who I touch. I play favourites on repeat, I held my head high and I let them hold me down and we buried the past in the possibility of the future, together.
Locked and loaded, where the hell is peace of mind?
I wait on you inside the bottom of the deep blue sea
I wait on you inside the bottom of the deep blue
Welcome to my cage little lover
Time to rearrange with you baby
Still don't know your name miss honey
Let's go up in flames pretty lady
When I wake up it's still dark. That song is still playing in my head and the memories of the night lie against me on both sides, hands claiming ownership of whatever they touch in their dreams.
I take a deep breath and turn my brain inside out.
And Jacob isn't there.
The next deep breath hurts in realization and I sit up but no one else stirs. I try to catch my breath but I can't. My brain is squealing, pushing backwards against my skull, trying to stuff itself back in, unwilling to reveal itself, trying to keep the corners inside dark and unexplored.
But it's too late.
I crawl out of bed as quietly as I can. Lochlan doesn't move, Caleb sleeps even more deeply, I could walk right down him and he wouldn't notice. I find my t-shirt and pajama pants and I head down the hall to my right, down the few steps, in through another door, where Sam bolts upright. Another light sleeper.
What's wrong?
Had a nightmare, I lie.
He lifts up the covers. He's got a faded church camp t-shirt on and pajama pants too. I climb in and he settles his arms around me, chin on top of my head.
Just sleep. Lochlan will find you in a bit. Everything's okay.
It's so warm against him that I'm asleep within minutes, running down the path in the sunrise, wet leaves threatening to send me flying, down, down until the sun disappears and it's dark again. I run down the hall, my footsteps echoing off the walls but at the end of the hallway there's no door. It's not here. It's gone. I feel along the wall where it was. There are footprints everywhere. Right here. It was right here. But it's gone and it's place is fresh neat mortar. I can't get in. I can't get in and he's gone.
But I'm right here. Lochlan's voice cuts into the dark softly, like a sharp knife. Right here, Bridget. For you. He takes my hand and I sit up. Sam mutters something about talking later and we leave him to sleep.
Lochlan leads me downstairs. He puts my coat on me, buttoning it all the way, then he puts on his own. We head outside for the sunrise, all the way to the beach. All the way into the water. He bends down and wets his hand and brings it up to my forehead, drawing a cross.
I don't remember what he says, he grins ruefully, but it should work. Then he draws a heart around the shape of my entire face with the saltwater. That's my blessing for good measure. This is your sea. All your memories are here, Bridget. She keeps them safe, you just have to touch her and you can have them all, but you can never come to her without me. Try it now.
I crouch down and stick both my hands into the ice-cold water. The shock of how cold it is after summer is comforting somehow. There she is. Back to normal. I lean forward until I'm sitting on my knees, up to my waist in the frigid surf and he swears and steps forward but he doesn't rip me to my feet. He waits. I lean forward and scoop water onto my face with both hands. Baptize me ten times over but I'm never going to be new, never going to different, never going to be right, somehow.
I don't care, he says, and he pulls me to my feet at last. Dumbass. You're going to catch your death.
(But I could never keep up with her either. She's so fast.)
Back in our room he gets a fire going and Caleb is gone but that song is still in my head. This time I dream of the fair, Lochlan's warm mortar- and salt-streaked hands clutching me against him while I shiver in my sleep. His talent is magic, mine is ruin. I wonder who's winning?