Gianna knocked softly on the door to
her best friend’s condo. She couldn’t
get him to answer the phone and he hadn’t been at work in two days. Courtney, his assistant had called her in a
panic when he hadn’t shown up again this morning. She said she was worried. Prior to the conversation they had on the
phone about him trying to find Jeremy again, Gianna herself would have been
terrified too. But this wasn’t going to
be a repeat performance. It just
couldn’t be!
George and Landers huddled behind her
as she put her key in the lock. None of
them really knew what to expect. A sense
of déjà vu passed over all three of them though. This exact scene had played
out in front of them once before. Last
year they found their friend practically lifeless and naked on his bedroom
floor, empty prescription bottles lying next to him. Gianna was the only who could think or move.
She had snatched up the phone in his bedroom and called 911. He had survived that attempt, but who knows
if he had learned from his mistakes and really taken his life this time?
Archer heard the door open. Only one person had a key to his house, so
Gianna must be worried and stopped by to check on him. He lay in a rumpled ball on the floor next to
his bed, his tangled hair drooping over his face and his knees drawn up to his
chin. He knew he should get up and take
a shower, or make some coffee to bring him around, but somehow he just couldn’t
bring himself to move.
The three familiar faces appeared in
the alcove separating his bedroom from the family room. They stood there with stricken looks on their
faces and were all white as a sheet. He
glanced up at Gia momentarily and then looked away again. He had let her down again. After promising to be there for her, to be
the strong one; he had once again fallen into the pit of despair that paralyzed
him beyond his control.
Gianna turned and whispered to the
boys and they retreated into the family room.
She approached him apprehensively, kneeling next to his mammoth
shoulders and stroking his hair away from his face.
“Archer honey, what’s wrong?” This pregnancy thing was really starting to
make her feel like everybody’s mother.
She was a little scared of it.
He didn’t answer her. The similarity to a whipped puppy in his eyes
scared her even more. She turned and set
her purse down at the end of the bed, removed her coat and lay down on the
floor next to him. She inched her way
toward him until she could feel his forehead under hers.
Guilt coursed through her veins, as
she slowly ran her hand up and down his arm.
His skin was cold to the touch under the shirt he had been wearing three
days ago when he went with her to the clinic.
She could only assume that he had done what they had talked about on
that day. That he had tried to find
Jeremy and now something had happened to put him back into this fragile state.
“Arch sweetheart, please tell me
what’s going on. Did you try to call
Jeremy’s mom? Did you finally talk to
him?”
Gianna would have no way of knowing
that she was barking up the wrong tree. She only knew what he was thinking of
doing the last time they talked. There
was no way she could have known about the phone call.
His voice creaked as he tried to say
the words, “
She gasped. Jeremy was dead? How was Archer ever going to deal with this,
just when he had gotten the courage to try to find him? Now he would never be happy. A single tear slipped down her cheek.
“Oh Arch, I’m so sorry. When did he die sweetie?”
A curious expression crossed his
face. Who did she think was dead?
“Her, not him.” He croaked out a little
more clearly.
“Her, who?” She was totally
confused. She sat up and looked down at
him.
“My mom.” The sniffles took over
again as he tried to wrap his brain around the fact that the woman who had
given him life was dead at fifty-four years old.
Gianna let the air whoosh from her
lungs. Oh thank goodness it wasn’t Jeremy.
She was slightly taken aback by Archer’s revelation though. He had never been close to his parents as
long as she had known him. But maybe
hearing the baby’s heartbeat at the clinic the other day had affected him more
profoundly than he had admitted to her.
“Honey, your mom passed away?” She scooted back toward him and he slid his
head into her lap. She idly patted his
arm, giving comfort the only way she could.
“Mmm… dad called to tell
me.” He seemed to be coming around
slightly. He should have just called Gia to begin with and then maybe he
wouldn’t be lying on this floor sweaty and greasy.
“When did he call sweetheart?” Gia continued to cuddle him close to her.
“I don’t know, last night I
guess…after I dropped you off.” He
methodically twisted one of the buttons on his sleeve until it came off in his
hand.
“Archer that was three days
ago.” His head swiveled around and he
looked into her eyes. He could see the
strain and the worry there.
“Oh god G, I’m so sorry.” He sat up quickly, his body was shaking and
his mind was a jumble of mixed up emotions.
“I guess I shut down again, didn’t
I?” He wanted to cry, for his mom and for the sense of loss he felt when he
thought of his life.
“It’s okay Arch, it’s understandable
under the circumstances. Why don’t you
go see if you can grab a shower and I’ll call your office and let Courtney know
what’s happened. She was really worried
about you, hon.”
Gianna started for the other room as
she watched Archer stand tentatively.
“Do you want me to send one of the boys
in to keep you company?” Archer winced
at the thought of having to explain why he’d lost three days of his life to
anyone else.
Registering the sour look, Gia
withdrew her offer. “Okay, no problem,
you want to be alone, but Arch…” She
paused and got the desired effect. He
looked directly at her. “Please call if
there is anything you need, okay?”
He nodded and felt like a five
year-old, but he knew that Gia’s concerns weren’t
without merit. When he came out of one
of these “blue funks” he was always remorseful.
Rationally, his conscious mind told him that he could control this
temporary “psychosis,” but every time it happened, he now realized he had no
control over it whatsoever. He had no
idea that three days had passed since he had taken Gianna to the clinic and
come home to the life-altering phone call from his father.
As he stood in the shower and let it
cleanse his over-wrought body, he thought back to the last thing he could
remember. He had just come in from
dropping Gia off when the phone rang. He
remembered the operator’s French accent and his father’s voice saying there was
bad news and that was it. How had he
gotten to the bedroom? How could he make
it for three days with no food or water?
Had he eaten or had he simply lain there for the entire time? One thing was clear, he needed to talk to
Anne and find out why his meds weren’t effective against this type of
episode.
The shower had helped somewhat and at
least now he was feeling slightly more human.
As he emerged from the bedroom suite and wandered toward the kitchen, he
was surprised to find Gianna waiting there alone with a small plate of toast,
some orange juice and a bowl of cereal.
He sat down and stared at the dishes.
She spoke quietly, “I sent the boys
on their way honey. I swear they haven’t
slept in their own bed in a week.
George’s “mother hen” mode is in full swing with this baby thing.”
His eyes showed his embarrassment.
“Thanks G, this is all kind of hard to wrap my head around and I don’t know how
comfortable I would be talking about it to them?”
She came up next to him and tried to
soothe him by rubbing his back. “Archer,
look… you’ve had a shock. There is no
reason you should blame yourself or condemn yourself for this whole thing. If you need to, call Anne and go talk to her
about it, but don’t let yourself wallow in self-pity
anymore, okay? There is nothing you
could have done to prevent this.”
He was still having a difficult time
with that whole concept though. The more
he thought about what had happened, the more confused he got. Was it the fact that his mom was dead that
truly had upset him and sent him over the edge of sanity? Or was it the fact
that he had convinced himself that happiness was just around the corner with
his decision to try and find Jeremy and now that wasn’t going to happen?
His silence scared Gianna a bit. She
had things she needed to do today, but she was a little bit uncomfortable
leaving Archer alone, even though he seemed to be physically fine now.
“You’re gonna
be okay Arch.” She reiterated.
“I know hon,
I’ll be fine. Just
something else to work through.”
He reached back and patted her hand on his shoulder.
“If you’ll bring me the phone, I’ll
give Anne’s office a call right now and you can be on your way. I appreciate you pulling me back to reality
Gia, I really do.”
She laid the phone on his glass
dining table and kissed his cheek. She
knew that tone all too well and it meant that this was something he had to do
by himself. No matter how much she loved
him or cared about his well being, he was still an independent grown man and he
didn’t need her there any longer. It had
stung the first time she fully realized there were parts of himself that he
wasn’t willing to share with her, but it had taught her one thing. The foolish crush that had grown in her heart
as they became closer their first few years of college, was just that, a crush
that couldn’t be anything more. She was
part of his life as just what she needed to be, his best friend.
She turned and picked up her coat and
headed for the door. She glanced back to
see his head bowing toward the table.
“Wait G…” He stood up and crossed the
floor to his front door. “I’m sorry.”
He wrapped her in a warm embrace and
whispered in her ear. “Don’t worry hon, it won’t happen again, I promise. There’s too much to live for now!”
A little gasp escaped her lungs
without her realizing what she had done.
“I love you Arch. Take care of yourself, please. Not for me, or your dad, or even Jeremy. Do it for yourself Archer.” Little tears had crept from her eyes and let
the fear of what he might have done really settle for the first time. A shudder past through her body and he held
her head in his big hands and looked deep into her eyes.
“I love you too Gianna. You have been my port in the storm these last
few years and I don’t know what I would have done without you. And I will,
Gia. I will take care of myself.” He kissed her forehead and hugged her one
more time.
She pulled herself from him and
walked outside into the cold November morning. She couldn’t do anything else
for him. She had to trust his words and
hope above all, he could find the help he needed with his therapist. She had somebody else to worry about
now! A little somebody who was causing
her to feel awfully nauseated at the moment, or maybe it was just a premonition
of dread and fear rolling through her.
***
Archer never called Anne. He went back through the door and grabbed his
wallet and his keys. He was wearing
khakis, a worn flannel shirt and his sneakers.
He didn’t reach for a jacket or even turn off the light in the living
room, he just rushed out and got in his aging Volvo and drove. He had to get out of there. He had to find someplace to think. And he had to find Jeremy. He knew it now. His mom’s life had been cut short at the
midpoint. He only had twenty years or so
until he hit that mark as well. There
wasn’t any more time to wonder what Jeremy would think or who he might be
with? He had to do this now, before it
was too late.
He pulled out of the small city and
onto the freeway. Traffic was light for
this normally congested road, but it was mid-morning and all of the commuters
had made it to their destinations already.
He drove northeast on the sprawling I-80 freeway until he reached the
outskirts of the Bay Area. He crossed
the
At first he was only driving. Driving to clear his head. Driving to give him something to do beside
sit in that damned house and continue to go crazy. But he knew that’s not what he was doing
now. The cutoff at Highway 5 meant only
one thing. He was headed to
It had started to rain somewhere
outside of
He finished his pie and used the
restroom again before leaving. He started the car and headed back toward the
highway. The stretch before
He stopped worrying and just
drove. He would just have to deal with
whatever came up at this point. Nothing was going to stop him from getting to
The music was soft and eerie.
Something about it held him there. The singer’s lyrics began and the words hung
in the air like fireflies buzzing around him on a summer night. Thick and haunting, brushing past him and
creating a cobweb of memories in his brain…
I have a smilestretched from ear to ear
to see you walking down the road
we meet at the lights
I stare for a whilethe world around disappears
just you and me
on this island of hope
a breath between us could be miles
let me surround you
my sea to your shore
let me be the calm you seek
oh and every time I'm close to you
there's too much I can't say
and you just walk away
and I forgot
to tell you
I love youand the night's
too long
and cold here
without you
I grieve in my conditionfor I cannot find the strength to say I need you so
oh and every time I'm close to you
there's too much I can't say
and you just walk away
and I forgot
to tell you
I love youand the night's
too long
and cold here
without you
Tears streamed down Archer’s pale
face as he continued up the highway in the dark. When it was finished the DJ’s
bubbly, excited voice announced… That was Sarah McLachlan
with her song “I Love You” from the Live CD, Mirrorball.
He couldn’t understand why it had hit him so hard, but then
as he started to consider the lyrics, he finally rationalized why he was so
upset. When he started driving this
morning, he hadn’t considered what he would do or say if Jeremy was indeed in
love with another person after all these years? Suddenly morose and distracted at the
proposition of all of this falling apart at the seams, he felt the vehicle
swerve underneath him. There was ice on the road coming down the far side of
the mountain. The dark blue Volvo caught
the side of a steep embankment and he heard the crunch of sheet metal
bending. He tapped his brakes and hoped
that he could stop in time for the worst to be avoided. The right front tire hopped a few feet and he
skidded to a stop askew from the slow lane of traffic.
He cursed himself under his breath
and carefully opened his door when the traffic in his rearview mirror was
clear. He crossed in front of the car
and noticed that one of his headlights had been damaged as well. Shaking his
head in disgust, he rounded the corner and looked down the side of the battered
machine. A three-foot crease practically
folded the passenger door in half! Okay,
maybe he was being dramatic, but there was a sizeable dent there. The damage to the car really didn’t matter to
him. The car was old and it was not on
any of his priority lists right now, only getting to Ashland and finding out
where Jeremy was, was foremost in his mind.
He started down the side of the car to look closer at the door. His feet came out from under him and in a
millisecond he found himself on his back.
He groaned out loud and lay there momentarily cursing everything in sight. This is why he moved away from Northwest…
yeah right! That was a crock and he knew
it.
Just get up Arch, just get up!
Easier said than done though! He struggled for a minute and propped himself
up on one elbow. The ice was getting his
pants all wet and he was sure he was probably quite dirty by now too. A sharp pain flared in his right hip and he
winced as a freezing wind picked up and blew past him, making him shiver. He
realized he didn’t have a jacket or any other clothes. Okay, this was just getting to be too much.
He thought he was going to cry, but with a little bit of determination he was
able to stop himself.
He righted himself and took small,
careful steps back to the driver’s side of the car, waited for traffic and
opened the door to get in. His pants and
boxers were soaked clear through and it made the prospect of driving the last
hundred miles rather uncomfortable. Not
to be thwarted by the evil of the winter roads, he turned the engine over and
prayed that nothing else was damaged.
The Volvo sputtered its normal stagnant cough and sputtered to a start just
as it always had. Archer silently
thanked whatever deity was responsible for his fate and pulled out into the
sparse traffic.
Wind was whistling in from the dented
door as he got up to the 65 mph speed limit in the slow lane, so Arch cranked
the heat up and hoped it would dry the seat of his pants as well as keep him
from freezing to death. There was a rest
stop coming up on the right as he approached the lights of Yreka, so he pulled
in. He just needed to pull himself
together enough to call Amy and not scare the pants off of her. He knew his voice was shaky and he felt out
of sorts. He remembered that he hadn’t
taken his meds this morning in all of the turmoil and he didn’t have all of
them with him. His pack that he normally carried everywhere was in the backseat
and it had the one bottle of Topomax in it, but not
his Welbutrin, since he only took that one in the
morning before he left for work. It was
the combination of the two that kept him even.
He stepped out of the car into the
cold
***
It was a frigid night in this part of
Chuck Randall was ten states from
home and three weeks gone on his latest coast-to-coast run. He hadn’t seen his wife or his kids for close
to a month and he was itching to get home to the comfortable arms of his
family. Most people these days did speed
to keep awake. He couldn’t abide the
idea and kept his composure with gallons of coffee and over the counter pep
pills. The coffee was rotting his gut and he lived on TUMS, but at least he
didn’t have to worry about the occasional random stops that the CHP did in this
part of the country.
He knew he was almost to the
He approached the building and
entered the men’s room. He thought he
heard a strange noise as he finished washing his hands and splashing some cold
water on his weary face, but dismissed it to the wind in the tall oak trees
standing at the back of the building. He
shivered as he came out and stood in front of the aging vending machines two
abreast on the south wall. There was
that noise again. He stood stock-still
and waited a few moments. He knew that
any numbers of hoodlums or gang-bangers could be hanging out just waiting to
accost an unsuspecting passerby. He cocked his head as the noise reached his
ears. The hair on the back of his neck
prickled as he recognized the sound. It
was somebody moaning.
He took a step toward the sound and
thought fleetingly about turning tail and running back to his truck. But what if someone was out there and they
were hurt? He had been raised to help
strangers in trouble and against his better judgment he moved cautiously toward
the source of the distressing groan. The
corner of the bricked bathroom enclosure was shrouded in darkness. The halogen streetlights from the parking lot
were bright, but this was out of their reach.
Step by step Chuck Randall inched into the darkness. He waited at one point to try to pinpoint the
sound if it came again.
As he lifted his foot to take the
next step, something brushed by his left leg. Bristling with his heart beating
double its normal speed, he stepped backwards and a godforsaken scream
punctuated the silence. He looked back
and saw a scrawny, beige and black, feral cat streak
into the light edging the parking lot.
He shook his head and laughed a little at himself for being so scared of
such a little cat. He turned to go back to his rig comparing the noise he heard
with that of a growling cat, ready to fight. Maybe that had been what he was
hearing all along?
“Mmmmmmmph,”
Now that was definitely a human voice.
It caused him to practically jump out of his skin.
He turned back towards the cry and shuffled about ten feet
quickly trying to get to whoever was making the noise. The poor soul could feel the Good Samaritan
getting closer and he continued to grunt to lead the stranger his way.
Chuck got very close and got down on his knees and felt
around in the dead leaves and muddy undergrowth of those old oaks. Bump, there it was, something was moving
under a dense covering. The poor soul
was struggling now, wriggling around on the ground in almost a panicked frenzy,
trying to get Chuck to help him. The truck
driver felt the freezing cold fabric; something quilted, like a blanket or a
furniture pad. He struggled to get
underneath it and felt the frigid arm of a very distraught person. The body was thick and seemed strong, he was
sure it was a man.
The man was still moaning and Chuck figured he must be
gagged. He found his way to the man’s
mouth, the skin on the back of his hand prickling as he touched each frozen
extremity. The breath on his hand from
the man’s nose was still somewhat warm. Rapid, but warm. He
felt for the mouth. His fingers
encountered something sticking to his face, probably tape of some kind. He slowly started to remove it and the poor
man wriggled again. He thought if he had
this over his mouth, he would want someone to just rip it off. So he did.
The man screamed as the air whooshed from his lungs.
***
Chuck had gotten Archer untied as fast as he could and
inside the bathroom. The water was
freezing, but he helped him to get most of the blood and dirt from his face.
Once his scraped and battered face was clean, the modest man
from the
“Are you sure you don’t want me to take you to the
hospital?” Chuck asked for the umpteenth
time.
“No thanks Chuck, I just need to get to
“Man you should really go to the police and fill out a
report.” Chuck couldn’t believe this guy
was so calm about being mugged and car-jacked.
“Yeah, I guess I should. But right now I really just need…”
Chuck finished the sentence for him, “yeah I know, you need to get to
“Yep, that’s right.”
Archer actually managed a smile.
“Okay man, let’s get goin’ then. Probably take us a couple of hours from
here. You want to lie in the sleeper in
the back?”
“Naw, I’ll be okay, but thanks
again Chuck. I probably would have died if you hadn’t come along.” Arch was picking leaves and mud out of his
hair. Most of it was matted to his head
from the struggle he put up when he came to and the thugs were tying him up.
At first he cried, then he screamed for a while, and then he
found himself admonishing himself for not doing what Gia had asked him to
do. He really hadn’t taken care of
himself and when he finally realized that if someone didn’t find him within the
next twelve hours or so he would probably die, he started to pray.
God, I know that I am not one of your faithful, but please
don’t let me die here! I need to see
Jeremy again. I need to reconcile myself
to whatever our unfinished business is.
If you can hear me, please, please… I want to live.
Religion had never been a force in his life. His mom was an atheist and his dad had been
raised in the Jewish church, but rebelled against the traditions of his church
in his late teens. Consequently it just wasn’t
an issue at their house. Jeremy had
taken him to youth group and Sunday Mass at his family’s church in
“…split a piece of wood and I am there, lift a stone and you
will find me…”
He took it to mean that God was all around us, not housed
within the four walls of a simple building.
That you didn’t need to go into a church to talk to God, you could do it
from anywhere, because he was the light inside of all of us, if we chose to
acknowledge it. He wished most times
that people who ranted and raved would keep that in mind. Maybe then this world would be a different
place to live in?
***
Chuck Randall dropped Archer off at the outskirts of
As Archer Finklin gazed on the town he had once called home,
he thought about how many years he had wasted being angry. Angry with Jeremy, angry with his parents,
and most of all angry with the world for slighting him… boy was he tired of
being angry. He turned toward the church where Jeremy had brought him as a kid.
He made his way to the solid oak doors and quietly let himself inside. He had a
promise to keep for the favor someone watching over him had granted and he
wasn’t going to renege on this promise for anything in the world.