Blue Aspen Page 15

  I was standing in the middle of a glass room with harsh neon lights smashing down on me. I turned around quickly to leave, but the door I came through was gone. I was trapped in a glass box. Beyond the glass walls, shadowy figures stood looking in at me. They were all around me. All I could see of them, other than their shape, were their eyes. Thirty sets of reflective eyes, like those of animals at night, observed me silently. I suddenly felt naked beneath their gaze. I sat down on the floor and pulled my knees into my chest. Then, in unison, every shadow raised one dark fist to the glass and knocked. I screamed out in horror as they continued to knock in time over and over and over. Had I been lucid, this scene would not have been frightening, just strange. But as it was, every line was crooked, the light was alien illumination, and every color was mottled with molestation. Every knock sent a reverberating jolt through my cell that upset the beating of my heart. Panic bore down on me.

  "Vincent!" I screamed. "Save me, please! Vincent!"

  Waking up abruptly, I sat up in bed, drenched in sweat and panting. My heart felt like it was going to burst from my body. Light was blinding me from the doorway. Uncle Jack was standing on the threshold of my room.

  "Dulcee? Are you okay?" he demanded, sounding alarmed.

  "I…Yeah. I’m fine, just a nightmare," I panted.

  He came into the room and sat down on the bed next to me. He put his hand on my back and jumped, pulling his hand away.

  "Goodness!" he exclaimed. "You’re sopping! Are you ill?" He reached over and turned on the bedside lamp. His expression grew more worried. "I’ve got to get you to the hospital."

  "No!" I snapped. "I’m fine."

  "You’re not fine!" he argued back. "You’re feverish, you look like you haven’t slept in a week, and you were screaming in your sleep."

  Anger pounded in my head. He heard me talking in my sleep; I felt invaded. I couldn’t think of anything to reply.

  "Come here and look at yourself!" Uncle Jack commanded, grasping my hand and dragging me to the bathroom. He flicked on the light. That wasn't me in the mirror. I looked terrible; my skin was waxy and pallid. My hair was hanging wet, sticking to my face, and my eyes looked blackened and a little crazy around the edges.

  Uncle Jack wet a clean washcloth and before I could stop him he was gently wiping my forehead. My insides clenched, protesting at him touching me, but something else in me was so thankful and grateful for his tenderness, that I quietly allowed him to fuss over me. He insisted I change into my pajamas and take some aspirin. I did everything he wanted me to without argument. I even drank a cup of tea. When my temperature was normal again, he seemed to calm down a bit.

  "You look a little better," he said, sounding relieved. "Maybe you just need some sleep."

  I nodded, feeling relaxed and exhausted. Uncle Jack tucked me into bed as if I were a five-year-old.

  "Here, I want you to take these." He held out his hand. There were two small red pills in his palm. "They’re sleeping pills. I know you told me that you have an aversion to pills, but if you don’t take them, I will force you to go to the hospital."

  I thought for a long moment. In my present state, I couldn’t get out of bed anyway. On the other hand, I didn’t know if the pills would prevent Vincent from entering my dreams. I felt a stab of rage at Vincent. Where was he? Why was he so far away that he couldn’t stop me from having nightmares again? I decided not to argue. In any case, I didn’t want to dream any more, unless I knew Vincent was right next to me.

  I swallowed the little pills. Uncle Jack looked satisfied and stroked my forehead before turning out the light and leaving the room. He paused at the door and left it open a crack before exiting into the hall and down the stairs. I listened to him going farther and farther away from me and then I heard him shut the door to his study.

  I shut my eyes and then I heard my door shut. The room was in total darkness.

  "Vincent?"

  "Yes, Dulcee. It’s me," he whispered.

  Through the darkness, I could feel him moving toward me. I was too weary to sit up. The drugs had started coursing through my blood. He stood next to the bed, stiffly. Anger rolled off him in waves.

  "Why didn’t you wait for me? Do you doubt me? Don’t you know that I can give you better peace than those drugs?"

  "I know it, Vincent! I know it." I was desperate to appease him, he had never been angry with me before. "You were so far away, and I had another nightmare. Uncle Jack was worried about me. He wanted me to take them."

  "Oh he wanted you to take them! Well, I guess he knows what’s best for you. I’m the one who’s out of line. Is that it?"

  "Vincent," I whispered. "Why are you so angry with me?" Tears were running from my eyes.

  "You don’t know what you have done! You are so far gone you can’t even feel it, can you? It’s happening right now."

  My head was spinning. I had to stay awake. I had to understand what he was talking about, but the drugs were overwhelming my system. I only had moments left.

  "What’s happening?" I whispered.

  Vincent sighed impatiently. "Focus on your fire, if you can."

  I tried. There was nothing there, my candle was gone. Vincent moved away from me and began to leave.

  "Wait!" I begged. "Stay with me!"

  "I’m sorry. That’s not possible. You’ve gone somewhere I cannot follow."

  He was gone, and then so was I. Only we were not together, we were worlds apart. Thankfully, in my sleep, I could feel nothing. However, when the feeling came back, I would feel nothing but pain, nothing.

  When I opened my eyes, I was empty. My pillow was soaked with the unconscious tears I had cried during night. My brain was on autopilot, making me do things I hadn’t thought to do, like standing up. I had no thought to stand up, but I found myself standing anyway. The headache, I was sure would crumple me to the floor, was not there. I walked to the bathroom like a marionette. I had no idea what force was pulling me forward, but it was not my friend. It made me look at myself in the mirror, and I knew that Vincent had left me completely.

  The top of my pajamas was ripped open and streaked with dried blood. Between my breasts, my chest was striped with ragged gashes. I lifted my hands in front of my face; blood and skin were under my fingernails. In my sleep, I had clawed at the emptiness in my chest. My hair was matted, my face pillow-creased, my breath foul. The fire extinguished. I was empty. I was gone. I was dead. The force that was still propelling me made me lean in closer to the mirror. My nose almost touched it. In my eyes were the exit wounds of what had entered and left. His fire had abandoned me hollow.

  I looked and looked into the nothing of my eyes, for I don’t know how long. Time kept its pace, it neither slowed nor sped up, or stopped, it was the same as it always was, but I was unaware of its existence. The force that controlled me pulled me down stairs. I didn’t see my uncle, though I could have walked past him without noticing. I saw everything like a tunnel, a tunnel that no matter how far I walked, I would never reach the end. My whole body was numb, and the tiny scrap of me that was left, was silently screaming his name repeatedly. I put my hand to my ragged chest and scraped it once, before I made myself lower it to my side.

  I continued forward with no thought to where I was going or why. I was a puppet, the empty shell of a mannequin, but I was about to regain some control. I woke up a little when my bare feet hit the Irish moss on the floor of the solarium. I blinked once and looked around me. All of the beautiful plants were still there, but they were dying. The flowers were drooping and the leaves were turning brown around the edges. I gasped and lifted my left hand to look at my engagement ring. I cried out in agony, the sound bounced around the confined space. The tiny white flowers were withering.

  I did the only thing I could think of, I turned on the sprinklers. The sprinklers were in the ceiling, connected to copper pipes that ran all around the room and down the wall to a small antique metal wheel. When I turned it, the pipes groaned and clattered and for a
moment, nothing happened. The water dripped for a minute before the pressure broke through. It was a good thing I didn’t care about myself, because the deluge I was now standing in, was freezing. I was soaked all the way through within twenty seconds. I had no idea if what I was trying to do would make the slightest bit of difference. Could water save plants that maybe didn’t even exist?

  I had no defense against the torture thriving within me. I gave myself over to it. I wept, I yelled out, I ripped at my chest, and I fell on the floor in the moss. Time didn’t exist. I lay on my stomach and gently stroked my ring. I was going to will it to live. I still love you, Vincent.

  I didn’t know if it was the freezing water coming down from the ceiling making me shake so hard or the ferocity of my own tears. My name came to me, muffled, distorted. My ears were full of water. From the floor, through the false rain, I could see a blur of something coming toward me. Then all light and time slipped away. I passed out.

  I woke up in bed, in the stifling heat of my room. It was dark in there, except for the firelight. The drapes were open and I could see the moon and the stars. I sat up. Something pulled at my chest. I was wearing my bathrobe over my bra and panties, which were still a little damp. I opened the robe and looked down at the uncomfortable tugging over my sternum. A large piece of gauze was tapped to my skin. I looked around the darkened room. Uncle Jack was slumped over, asleep, in my reading chair. He had been keeping watch over me.

  I was oddly lucid, compared with earlier. I knew what I had to do, and I mustn’t wake my uncle. I moved as silently as a shadow to my closet and got dressed for the snow, but not before I pulled the gauze from my chest. It was an ugly wound, so much for plunging necklines. I was going to have some strange scars right there. I had to get the fire back. The impulse to tear at the hollowness was still there.

  Once I was all bundled for the cold, I slipped from my room without a sound. I walked silently down the stairs to the front door. I punched in the code that disarmed the alarm and unlocked the deadbolts. I was thankful the massive door was so quiet. The frigid wind blasted me as I stepped outside. The half-moon was bright enough, reflected off the snow, to light my way. I had no idea where I was going, except that my destination was somewhere in the forest.

  I should have been terrified to go alone into the forest at night, but I was fighting for my life, and all I could think of was Vincent. I had to find him. I just had to. If I couldn’t, I guessed I would just keep walking until I died, one way or another. I just didn’t care about anything else anymore.

  It was much darker under the trees. The light only broke through in patches. I put my head down against the cold and pushed forward. I looked for any sign of a trail, his footprints, anything. I must have walked at least two miles before I smelled the smoke. Far ahead of me, the light of a fire flickered through the trees. I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself, but my heart was hammering in my ears.

  I stepped into the small clearing where the fire was burning, but I was still seemingly alone. The warmth of the fire was heaven on my frozen cheeks. I drew closer to it. I knew he was here, somewhere just beyond my sight.

  "I’m sorry!" I called to the trees, my voice breaking with grief. "I didn’t know what I was doing. I’m so sorry! Please, forgive me! I meant nothing by it." I hesitated, listening. There was no response.

  "Vincent! Please!" I begged. The tears running down my cheeks were threatening to freeze there. There was still no answer. "Urrrgh!" I growled. "What must I do?"

  "Dulcee." His voice came from behind me.

  I turned to face him. His face was twisted in pain, tears streaming down his face as well. I was dying to run to him, but I held off, unsure.

  "I love you!" I cried.

  His face contorted further and he put one of his hands over his heart. I could tell I had wounded him. I had to show him. I had to prove it. I ripped my coat open and unbuttoned my shirt, so he could see where I had injured myself. His eyes widened in horror when he saw it. I took a step toward him, his eyes glued to my ripped flesh.

  "Put it back!" I begged him. "Please, put it back!"

  Vincent flinched as I came close enough to touch him but made no move to pull away from me. I raised my hand to his handsome face and lightly touched his cheek with my palm. He held his breath and his eyes rolled back in his head in pleasure at my touch. He grasped my hand and pressed his lips into my palm. The tears that came now were from a different source. I had never understood how someone could have tears of joy, until that moment.

  Vincent pulled me to him and his mouth greedily took mine. I knew better than to close my eyes. Our eyes, bloodshot and tear-filled, locked. It began. First, our hearts falling into sync, then the ocean turned to fire, and the emptiness inside me filled with flames. No one ever had loved another person as much as I loved Vincent! I was thoroughly convinced of that.

  His fire consumed me from my scalp to the tips of my toes. I pulled my mouth from his and threw my head back, crying out in ecstasy. My eyes readjusted themselves along with all my other senses, now they were no longer void.

  I nestled into his arms. This was my home. The only home I ever wanted. Both of us were panting. He held me like I was an injured part of his own body. When we both had caught our breath, he kissed me again, not quite so urgently this time. I didn’t care if he never tired of it. When he finally did pull away, he took my right hand and began to move in the direction I had come in.

  "Let’s talk while we walk, shall we? You need to get back to the house," he said.

  "Fine," I said lightly. I didn’t want to go back to the house, but I would have jumped from a cliff if he asked me to. I held my ring up to the moonlight and smiled, it was perfect again. We crunched along through the snow on the ground.

  "I’m sorry…" he breathed. "I’m sorry that I was so sensitive. You just don’t understand."

  "Make me understand. I don’t even really know what happened."

  He sighed and bit his bottom lip.

  "Okay, this is how best I can think to explain my feelings to you…Let’s say, hypothetically, that I had another woman on the side, and you found out about it. And when you confronted me, I was ignorant to the fact that it would bother you."

  "Okay…" I said slowly, trying to understand.

  "You decided to forgive me because I honestly didn’t know that I shouldn’t have cheated. Of course, that wouldn’t have stopped your heart from being broken. Do you understand?"

  "Yes. I think so…I betrayed you. I didn’t know I was doing it, and I certainly didn’t want to betray you. But it still hurt just the same, and you left me to nurse your wounds."

  Vincent smiled at me. "Yes. I like the way you put that. You’re exactly right."

  "Is there anything else I could take that would hurt you? I mean we drank some wine together so that must be okay. I can take aspirin and things like that, right?"

  "It’s only substances that induce sleep."

  "I will never act carelessly again," I promised. "At least, not on this point."

  Vincent chuckled darkly. "Well now you know how to make me go away."

  We walked on in silence for a while. I was dreading the moment we would reach the house. It was looming in the distance. I didn’t want to let him go.

  "You’ve ruined me," I whispered. "I’ve known that all along."

  "I’m sorry," he said simply.

  "I’m addicted to you, and I don’t think it’s a healthy addiction."

  He smiled, looking amused. "I’m sure it’s not. I’m sorry I’m so jealous, but I want to hold the monopoly on your addictions."

  I laughed. "Well, you do."

  Vincent stopped walking and faced me. He gazed at me so intently and slowly ran his fingers through my hair, down my shoulder, and rested them lightly over my wound. The fire raged beneath his fingertips. I shuddered.

  "You’re not the only one with addictions, you know," he said seriously. "Last night and all of today was hell for me. Our love is like
a burning wick, lit on both ends. When I felt your end go out, I thought it would kill me. I spent the whole time in the frozen absence of your love. I thought my heart would rend in two." He looked away from me, and then chuckled. "I was so angry…But no one can take this from you," he pressed a little on my chest, "unless you let them…If your end ever goes out again, I’ll know you don’t want me anymore."

  I nodded, understanding, and we walked on. I hadn’t realized before how volatile Vincent could be. But maybe that wasn’t fair of me to think that. No one could deny that Vincent was totally different, and so he was vehement about things I would have thought, before, to be inconsequential. I would have to be careful and learn more about the things I shouldn’t do. We arrived at the boundary of Uncle Jack’s property and I instantly felt panicky.