I’m walking into the main entrance of the hospital in Asheville to take Mom back home. I drove her car, figuring she wouldn’t mind. She just tried killing herself during a drunken blackout, so I don’t think she’s gonna come down on me and my lack of a license.
Before I can head down the hallway, I feel a hand clamp against my arm. I jerk around to see Pastor Marsh.
“Wait just a minute, Chris.”
Normally I might ask him what he’s doing here, but I don’t. I’m sure he knows, just like all the others who are supposed to know.
And strangely, I’m used to this now.
“Can we talk?”
I nod, and he leads me over to a sitting area.
“I spoke with your mother today.”
Again, this should surprise me but doesn’t.
I mean—hey—he is a pastor, right?
“She has agreed to enter a rehabilitation program that I told her about.”
That can’t be good.
“It’s a place here in Asheville. I told her that the church can pay for it, too. I know there’s the issue of not having health insurance.”
“Yeah, well—”
“It’s taken care of.”
I don’t know how or why, but I just shake my head.
“Now, Chris—listen to me.” The pastor looks around, and then moves in his seat to get closer to me so he can whisper. “Do not tell your father about what happened. Understand?”
“Yes.”
“Your mother is going to think that she needs to tell your father. Because—since she has to go away for a while—who are you going to stay with? But listen to me—I know—I can see it on your face. You don’t need your father. So convince your mother you’ve talked to him and set up all the details. Make sure that your mother doesn’t talk to him in person.”
“But how—”
“She is very ashamed of what has happened,” Marsh says. “She doesn’t want to talk to your father if she doesn’t have to. But convince her. Understand?”
I nod. He looks around again, which is strange because he’s usually not like this.
We’re not in Solitary. That’s why.
Marsh adjusts his glasses and returns his gaze toward me. “How are you doing?”
“Fine.”
“Have you been experiencing anything strange lately?”
I think of the body in the alley and the little girl in the closet at the party. I just shake my head, only to get a chuckle from Marsh.
“Chris—you really are a bad liar.”
“Shouldn’t that be a good thing, at least in your world?”
“The things you’re starting to see—don’t let them frighten you.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You know what you’re seeing. The thing is—why are you seeing them? Right?”
“Seeing what?” I ask him.
I want to know how he knows. Or if he knows what I’m seeing.
“Horrific visions. Stuff from nightmares. Nightmares blending into reality. Am I right?”
I’m too tired to even try and lie. “Yes.”
“It’s all part of the process. Just—try not to freak out.”
“Oh, okay, sure,” I say.
“In time you will understand, Chris. I grew to understand myself. But I’m not like you. Not even a bit.”
There he goes again. I want to say something like I left my Superman cape at home or The Batmobile is underground, but Marsh still freaks me out a bit. I don’t like the guy. But the fact that he knows what I want to know—that makes me bite my tongue and not say anything.
“There are big plans in the works—huge plans. The countdown is already underway. And in time, before next summer, you will know everything. But for now—convince your mother. Try your very best to make up a story. Okay?”
We’ve been home for an hour when I take Marsh’s advice.
“I called Dad and told him.”
It’s not just a little lie. It’s a doozy. But considering everything—I don’t feel bad. I’m doing it as much for Mom as for myself. I’m saving her embarrassment (is that why they call it saving face?) and I’m saving me the misery of having to deal with my father. I don’t know what is going on with him, but I do know that he’d come down to pray over Mom’s wretched soul and then go about trying to save mine.
“You told him what?”
“Everything.”
Mom moves on the couch she’s been resting on. It’s the most movement and expression I’ve seen from her since this all happened.
“Did you tell him about Mike?”
“No.”
Go ahead and tell him I tried to kill myself, but don’t dare tell him I’m into another man!
“You said you weren’t going to call him.”
“I know.”
“Chris …”
“Mom,” I say, trying to shut this conversation down so she believes it and moves on.
“What did he say?”
“That’s he’s coming immediately.”
“But how—how is he able to do that?”
Watch yourself here. She knows more than you do.
“He just said he could. Not right away, but as soon as possible. I called him from my cell.”
“Chris—”
“What did you expect? Would you rather have called him yourself?”
“I need to talk to him.”
“And you will. He just—he’s in shock.”
She looks eager to know how Dad is feeling about everything. I understand that expression because I’d love to know too.
“Did he say anything—about—about the last time we spoke?” Mom asks.
“What do you mean?”
“I was—I wasn’t very nice.”
“Yeah, he said something like that.”
Liar.
“I told him that if he came down here to see you it would be over my dead body.”
He wanted to see me?
“Well, it almost was,” I say.
Mom looks at me and tears up again.
“Mom—I’m not trying to make you sad again.”
“I know.”
“Dad said it would be better that you get help and worry about that,” I say. “Don’t worry about anything else. Including him.”
Liar, liar, pants on fire.
“I don’t know how long I’ll be gone.”
“You just call home and let us know.”
Us? Yeah right.
Mom sighs and drinks her water. She’s staring out the window into the sky in the distance.
I wait for her to say something, anything. I still half expect her to want me to prove I spoke with Dad.
“But you didn’t say anything about Mike?”
“No. But he wanted to know details. He really kept asking. I told him I didn’t know. But if he talks to you …”
She shakes her head and sighs again.
Ooh, that was a good one, Chris.
I don’t like lying to her, I really don’t. But I have to.
Not because Marsh told me so. No.
I’m not about to do what Marsh tells me to do.
I want a breather from Mom and from everybody else. Dad coming down would just make everything worse. If Mom gets help, then maybe things will be okay.
You know why you don’t want Dad coming down here.
I check my phone and see the text. From Lily.
IS EVERYTHING OKAY? HOW’S YOUR MOTHER?
And that’s why.
EVERYTHING IS FINE.
I think about the situation and look around the little cabin.
Suddenly, it doesn’t seem so cramped in anymore. It actually feels kinda cozy.
I send Lily another text.
ACTUALLY EVERYTHING IS PERFECT.
I look at the phone on the counter and wonder how I can make sure that Mom doesn’t get any random calls from Dad.
But she’s not about to. Their last conversation was awful.
I get another text.
WHY IS EVERYTHING PERFECT?
I think of Lily coming in and staying here in this cabin. For however long she wants. Doing whatever she’d like to do. Just locking the doors and trying to leave the rest of the world behind.
My whole body tingles with excitement.
I’LL TELL YOU SOON ENOUGH I text back.
Soon enough.