41. Prisoners

I only get Lily’s voice mail. It worries me, not being able to talk to her in person. I just leave a message saying I’m fine and I hope she’s fine and to call me soon.

It takes a few moments to get to the bottom of the drive.

So now I know what’s behind the gate. Sorta.

A normal mansion that’s decorated in Ernest Hemingway macho-hunter style.

And the suggestion that my great-grandfather is alive and keeping tabs on me.

I hear the crunching of dirt and rock underneath my tennis shoes.

I want to know how everything could have suddenly gotten all—all dark and dreary again. It’s this road. This road and these woods and everything stuck inside them.

I want to find Lily and take her away the same way I should have taken Jocelyn.

This time I’m going to learn.

The more I understand, the more confused I am.

I remember that gravestone I found with the French writing and the name Solitaire.

I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore.

I’m walking and breathing heavily, and I realize that I’m shaking all over. I stop for a minute and try to control the shaking, but I can’t. I can’t. I realize that I’ve been holding back on the terrified shakes, but now they’ve got me like some heroin addict who’s been clean for twenty-four hours.

I need someone to come and grab me and tell me I’m not losing my mind.

To tell me I haven’t lost my soul.

Maybe Staunch was right. Maybe I was shot dead and I’m a ghost wandering around these woods like the ghost dogs and wolves I’ve seen.

I lean over and put my hands on my knees like I’m some marathon runner who’s just finished a long race. For a moment I’m dizzy. The morning sun beats down on me.

Then I stand back up and keep walking.

I don’t feel special or different. Being watched and haunted doesn’t mean you’re special. It just means you’re a prisoner.

No different from the guy shackled to a rock below the waterfall.

Maybe we’re all prisoners in one way or another and don’t know it.

I just want to be released from all of this. Every little bit of it.

I want to go about my life just like I was doing before Wade showed up last night.