Kassie marched across the grass, fighting back tears. She had been a fool. For one fleeting moment, she’d thought she’d found someone who wouldn’t judge her, who wouldn’t label her, but Adam Brandt was just like all the rest. In his eyes, she was a whack job that needed to be deciphered and medicated.
‘Kassie!’
Kassie turned to see Adam hurrying after her. She had been so caught up in her desire to flee – marching down North Lincoln Avenue and into Lincoln Park – that she hadn’t registered that he was pursuing her. But there he was, cutting a ridiculous figure swathed in a baggy duffel coat, half walking, half running across the grass towards her.
‘Kassie, please, wait.’
She turned and carried on. A softball game was taking place directly in front of her, but beyond that she could see Lake Shore Drive and after that the beach. She was suddenly overwhelmed with a desire to be lakeside, to be alone by the water.
She sped up, ignoring the outraged cries of the elementary school students, as she marched straight through the middle of their game.
‘Hey, we’re tryin’ to play a game here.’
She carried on, quickening her pace further. She was trotting now, but feeling her pursuer bearing down on her, she broke into a jog.
He was closer now. She started to run. If she could just get across Lake Shore Drive, the natural eastern boundary of the park, then maybe he would get the message and give up. She was fifty feet from it, now forty …
But he didn’t seem to be getting the message. She could hear his footfall behind her, getting closer and closer.
With a sudden burst of speed, Brandt darted in front of her, blocking her route, just as she was approaching the roadside.
‘Kassie, please. Don’t leave like this.’
He was breathless, but determined.
‘The last thing I wanted to do was upset you. Come back to my office. I promise I won’t say a word, I’ll just listen.’
‘What’s the point? When you’re not even going to try to understand?’
She sounded desperate, whiny, which only angered her further.
‘I will. I do.’
‘No, you don’t. You pretend to understand, but that’s not the same thing.’
‘It’s not like that at all –’
‘Do you believe me?’
‘It’s not my job to believe you, only to understand you.’
‘For God’s sake,’ Kassie replied, pushing past him.
‘Kassie, what you’ve told me is incredibly unusual. And if you feel I haven’t supported you properly, it’s only because I haven’t got the tools to process what you’re telling me. It’s my failing, not yours.’
Kassie hesitated. His tone was so contrite, so concerned, that she suddenly felt bad for stalking off without a backward look. She paused, turning to him once more, her arms folded across her chest. She was still furious, but she would give him one last chance.
‘Teach me,’ he continued. ‘Help me to see what you see. But try to understand that I have spent my whole life studying brain function, psychological constructs, the rational and irrational processes of the mind. I’m a scientist – I decipher the world based on the evidence in front of me, so if I sometimes reveal … a lack of imagination, then don’t judge me too harshly. I’m trying to get there, but maybe I need a little help.’
He sounded sincere, like he was genuinely keen to help, but Kassie had heard this speech many times before from a dozen different do-gooders.
‘Give me your scarf.’
Adam looked bemused by the request, only now seeming to realize that the tail of his burgundy scarf was hanging from his coat pocket.
‘Sure,’ he replied stutteringly, pulling it from his pocket. ‘Are you cold or …’
‘Like I said, we all have our time.’
Kassie turned away from him, marching the last few feet to Lake Shore Drive with the scarf in her hands.
‘Kassie … what the hell are you doing?’
The concrete barrier by the roadside was less than a foot high and Kassie cleared it easily. She took a brief look in front of her, at the eight lanes of traffic speeding up and down the coast, then placed the scarf over her eyes, tying the ends together tightly together at the back of her head.
‘Kassie, for God’s sake, you don’t have to prove anything to me.’
Adam’s voice was shrill, desperate, but Kassie didn’t hesitate. Even though she couldn’t see a thing through the itchy wool, she took a step towards the traffic. She could hear the roar of the trucks, could feel their side winds buffeting her as she approached the first lane, but she kept going.
From nowhere, a deafening horn blast. Kassie jumped, even as a truck roared past. Kassie felt a hand grab at her – Adam presumably – but pulling away, she pressed on. Her heart was beating, she could feel sweat seeping from her forehead, but there was no turning back now.
‘Kassie, please don’t do this.’
His voice was muffled by the noise of the vehicles. Suddenly, Kassie heard a shrieking squeal of brakes right next to her, followed by a volley of abuse.
‘Crazy fucking bitch!’
On she went, faster and faster. Another deafening horn now, right under her nose. For a moment, she thought she’d been hit. But the car clipped the front of her toes, speeding on past her in a flash.
She pressed on remorselessly, but her shin now hit something hard, arresting her progress and sending pain searing up her leg. Groping, she felt the dividing barrier between the north and south carriageways and clambered over it.
‘You wanna get yourself killed?’
The accusation faded, as another startled driver sped on his way. Gritting her teeth, Kassie kept going, but almost immediately she was stumbling forward – the jet stream of what must have been a sixteen-wheeler knocking her off balance. She tried to right herself, clawing at the air, but it was too late. She was already on her way down and hit the hot tarmac hard, her hands and knees jarring with the impact.
And then she heard it. An ominous, high-pitched whine, as brakes locked and protesting tyres skidded towards her across the dry, unforgiving surface. In that moment, she knew that she’d made a mistake, that the car would hit her.
She could see herself flying backwards, pirouetting across the lanes into the path of oncoming traffic …
But then the whining suddenly ceased, even as Kassie felt her right cheek kissed by the nose of the braking car. Grabbing hold of the grille, she hauled herself up, even as she heard the car door open.
‘Mother of God, honey, are you ok?’
She lurched on, keen to be away from his concern, his questions. She could sense she was only yards from the other side now, so she moved faster, half stumbling, half running. She was almost there, almost there …
She felt her feet hit solid concrete and she stopped dead. Yanking her blindfold off, she took in the barrier next to her, then turned to look back across the eight-lane highway.
Adam Brandt was still there, staring at her from the other side of the highway, his face white with fear.