I sat in the garage, still in my work dress and non-slip shoes, in the weird momentary sunshine this afternoon when I got home right up until my legs got numb and fell asleep and I couldn't get up.
The Devil knew where I was almost by feel.
What brings you in here? He says, blocking the light from the door.
The door was up. I heard a noise.
Probably the sound of PJ's Jeep giving up the ghost. I don't need to see Caleb's expression canker ever so slightly at the idiom he just tossed out without thinking first. We do that. We say stupid things about important subjects. We take it lightly. We're disrespectful and we forget. If you don't do those things you're not human. You can't cope either.
I look at the Jeep. It's nine years old. When did that happen? How did we get from this brave new world to nine years further down the road in a blink?
Because you move forward, Princess. Jake says it gently, standing there in the sun leaning up against the driver's door of the Jeep. I am between he and Caleb. I don't know if I want to acknowledge him in front of Caleb. I'll be crazy if I do, but I'll miss my chance if I don't.
I don't move anywhere. I stay still.
What are you talking about? Listen, don't worry about the counseling. I tried. We'll try something else, okay? Don't worry- Caleb is background noise.
He keeps you still. Jacob repeats himself, in case I didn't understand.
He does. I agree.
Who? Lochlan? Does what? Listen- And then it dawns on Caleb suddenly, like the sun just before the rain comes back, darkening it back in the shadows to wait for another day. Bridget, you can't talk to him. He isn't real.
Maybe you can give up the ghost but I'm not going to.
This isn't a hole you're going to fall into on my watch, Neamhchiontach-
But Jake is staring at me. He does. And you moved him closer. Why'd you do that, Bridge?
I wanted to answer but I got confused and I opened my mouth and screamed. It was frustration, not fear and it brought three more to within my reach as I stood up, Bambi on shaky legs, covered with oil, marked for grief like others must be marked for death. I blamed it all on Caleb because he deserves it for trying to lock the whole thing down the way he is.
I don't have to explain it to him. I don't have to explain it to Jake either, though.
The Devil knew where I was almost by feel.
What brings you in here? He says, blocking the light from the door.
The door was up. I heard a noise.
Probably the sound of PJ's Jeep giving up the ghost. I don't need to see Caleb's expression canker ever so slightly at the idiom he just tossed out without thinking first. We do that. We say stupid things about important subjects. We take it lightly. We're disrespectful and we forget. If you don't do those things you're not human. You can't cope either.
I look at the Jeep. It's nine years old. When did that happen? How did we get from this brave new world to nine years further down the road in a blink?
Because you move forward, Princess. Jake says it gently, standing there in the sun leaning up against the driver's door of the Jeep. I am between he and Caleb. I don't know if I want to acknowledge him in front of Caleb. I'll be crazy if I do, but I'll miss my chance if I don't.
I don't move anywhere. I stay still.
What are you talking about? Listen, don't worry about the counseling. I tried. We'll try something else, okay? Don't worry- Caleb is background noise.
He keeps you still. Jacob repeats himself, in case I didn't understand.
He does. I agree.
Who? Lochlan? Does what? Listen- And then it dawns on Caleb suddenly, like the sun just before the rain comes back, darkening it back in the shadows to wait for another day. Bridget, you can't talk to him. He isn't real.
Maybe you can give up the ghost but I'm not going to.
This isn't a hole you're going to fall into on my watch, Neamhchiontach-
But Jake is staring at me. He does. And you moved him closer. Why'd you do that, Bridge?
I wanted to answer but I got confused and I opened my mouth and screamed. It was frustration, not fear and it brought three more to within my reach as I stood up, Bambi on shaky legs, covered with oil, marked for grief like others must be marked for death. I blamed it all on Caleb because he deserves it for trying to lock the whole thing down the way he is.
I don't have to explain it to him. I don't have to explain it to Jake either, though.