Chapter 23

Chapter 23

I stumble, fall to my knees, and hear myself gasp. The gravel on the ground blurs.

"Louisa! Come! Back! Immediately!" My screams flutter about me like a flock of sinister crows. I understand them and I don't understand them. It's like I exist twice. One Brendan out there and one trapped inside me.

When I sit up and look around, I peer straight into the little boy's timeless eyes. As before, I hear him count.

One, two, three, four, I'm not here anymore… You have to stay out .

For a moment, it's only him, me, and the darkness. "Why?" I whisper hoarsely.

"Grief. Too heavy for you. You'll fall apart."

With that, he walks away in his grubby pants, leaving me behind, paralyzed. I stare at his back, but he fades…

The boy runs . He's never been this fast before. He doesn't look left or right and he doesn't look back. Behind him, the monster roars as if it has escaped from the doomed place. The boy's bare feet kick up dust on Thorson Ave. and he breathes it directly into his lungs. The grains scratch his throat, making it difficult to breathe, but this is his chance. Maybe the last one he'll ever get. He doesn't know how close behind him the man is, but he has a head start. The Santa Ana blows across his face and smells of salt and oil. Of so many things the boy doesn't know .

On the wide street, the boy dares to glance over his shoulder. The strong, iron-featured man dashes down Thorson Ave, fist raised. His forehead is bleeding, exactly where the boy hit him with the sawn-off wooden slat. That was for Blacky—otherwise, the boy would never have dared to attack him. But he suddenly saw this long piece of scrap wood in the workshop and the key for the back door was still in it. He doesn't remember how he did it, only that there was an ugly crack. It sounded like victory.

Now he stands on the road, watching the monster charge him. In this colorful, hectic environment, he seems more human again.

The boy's knees weaken. All of a sudden everything is too loud. The voices around him , the hum of the cars, the honking. A woman laughs next to him. She is as blonde as his Little Miss Sunshine.

Help me! he wants to shout, but his voice fails. Nobody would help him anyway. Not even the police. They'd just bring him back even though they see the pathetic state he is in. The man would lie and put a few bills in the police men's hands. That's how it works.

He ducks into a crowd of people crossing the street at the same time. With his arms stretched out in front, he squeezes between the bodies as if swimming.

The man yells. Somewhere behind the boy. Ice water runs down his back. On the other side, he bumps into a stranger. He closes his eyes resignedly. He will restrain him, hand him over to the man. But nothing happens. The stranger just snaps at him before walking on, briefcase tucked under his arm.

For a moment, the boy stands there perplexed. He looks back. The monster has reached the intersection. A few people turn to look at him. Soon, they'll know why he's yelling so much. Then it'll be over.

The boy starts running. He knows where he wants to go. From the newspaper, he learned about an area that no police officer wants to go to. It borders his neighborhood. He read about gangs and fights. This area is his only chance to escape the man's clutches. He has memorized everything: the picture shown at the time with the few street names that were included. Now, he doesn't recognize any of it. Everything is foreign to him. He runs without knowing where to. His whole body aches from the beating, but he ignores it. At the next intersection, he turns right and disappears again into a stream of chattering people. So many intersections. So many streets. Lights. It smells of pizza and fries. Of cigarette smoke.

Teenagers push him back and forth like a dog, laughing, but he doesn't care. He just has to escape. The night becomes a river of screams, cars, wild honking, and music. It smells of food again. His stomach growls. A woman with bright red lips speaks to him and laughs, but he staggers away from her.

At some point, he lost the monster. For the first time, he slows down. He's not in the neighborhood he wanted to reach. Hands pressed to his ribs, he walks down a paved road lined with mighty palm trees on both sides. Tall palm trees, so tall he has to tilt his head back to see their tops. The Santa Ana wind gently bobs the fronds up and down.

To his right, a collection of colorful stalls rises up on a stilt plateau. At the edge is a Ferris wheel with blue flashing spokes. This must be the Santa Monica Pier he's seen so many times in the morning paper.

Suddenly, he feels too small for this world.

He stops. There's something in the air. Not only wind, but also coolness and humidity. Like someone sprayed salt in the air. In the distance, he hears a steady whooshing. He turns once more to make sure the monster is truly gone before running in the direction of the noise. His feet touch something soft that tickles him. He looks down. Sand. It feels funny, but he doesn't laugh. His toes are bloody. He lifts his foot and pulls a shard of glass from his big toe. He doesn't feel any pain, there's no room for that right now.

He needs to know what the sound is and keeps moving. Suddenly, he sees it glittering in the moonlight.

The ocean.

For a moment, he is dizzy because it's so vast. His gaze glides over the pitch-black surface toward the white, foamy surf.

The boy watches as the waves break on the shore. He's waiting for something. Maybe a feeling. You should feel something when you see the ocean for the first time. He waits for his lungs to expand, but they contract. He swallows and presses his fists into his stomach. His shoulders twitch, but he doesn't cry. Not even now. He doesn't cry and he doesn't laugh. But he is free.

All he can think about is Rhode Island. It is the smallest state in the United States and comes after Pennsylvania in the alphabet. Pennsylvania, Rhode Island, South Carolina.

Yet he can't think of his own name. He has forever forgotten it.

When I come to, everything is black and white. I blink several times, but the color doesn't return. The canopy remains dark gray and the spruce trunks appear black. The flash isn't over, I just have a lucid phase. This time, I'm not lying on the forest floor, but standing rigid like a statue in front of the RV, my left hand around a long metal chain.

The memory flashes through me like lightning: I have to get Lou back!

With a pounding heart, I peer up at the treetops, which are bouncing up and down in the storm. Dark rumbling fills the air. Now I'm absolutely certain there's going to be a storm tonight—I need to find Lou before it hits the area.

Where did she go? Where would you run to if you wanted to escape? Never in the direction of the street, that would be too dangerous because you could be intercepted .

For a moment, I smell sea salt and sand. The cold wind turns into the warm Santa Ana of Los Angeles and the rustling of the trees becomes the surf.

I would walk along the stream to avoid getting lost! I resolutely grab the metal chain and get a mental picture of the situation. The sky seems gray, but it's still late afternoon. Grey howls in the RV. I must have locked him inside, closed all the windows, and even put out the fire. I can't take Grey with me, he would only slow me down. There is still a chance I can catch up with Lou at the cliffs. If she's not there, I can always drive down the road.

I wipe my face with the sleeve of the hoodie and stumble forward. The fear of being pulled out of reality again by my memories balls up like a fist inside me. I have to find Lou. I can't even begin to think about losing her after all this time. No more Lou smiles. No cute red spots on pale cheeks.

I walk along the lake, which seems dull and murky to me.

You'll find her. She won't get far!

If she follows the creek, it will take her at least an hour to reach the cliffs.

I search for the deer trail, a path trampled flat by a herd of caribou that I came across while setting traps. The path leads steeply downhill. Again and again, I stop and listen, but I can't hear anything apart from the rustling of the treetops. Here and there, pine cones fall to the ground and bounce between the dead wood.

"Lou?" I call out as loud as I can. "Come back! You'll only get lost!"

I stop again and listen. Nothing. My gaze wanders down the slope toward the stream, but the trees are too close together. I only see dark branches, undergrowth, and tall grass to the right and left of the path.

"Louisa! Come back to me at once!"

What if she escapes? Fear and anger mix inside me, a dull, nameless pressure. I want to scream, freak out, bang my head against the nearest log. How could I have been so stupid and fall for the gas trick! I run faster and almost trip over a decaying badger at the bottom of the slope.

I can't lose Lou. Never! Ever! I can't lose her! Never lose! Never lose!

I can't think of anything else. After a while, the forest thins out. The deadwood beyond the path grows, revealing more and more forest floor, a sure sign I'm near the gorge.

Suddenly, I hear a faint rustling and stop, but it's only a flying crow cawing. From my position, I see the last line of trees before the cliffs. Through the gaps between the trees, I notice the sky is pregnant with rain. Cautiously, I continue, and out of the corner of my eye notice movement at the edge of the slope.

My heart is pounding. Lou is next to a birch tree that has grown horizontally over the precipice with one hand clutching an upright branch. She's peering down into the gorge, probably searching for a way down.

A thousand feelings wash over me: relief, warmth, anger.

Involuntarily, my fingers tighten around the metal chain and I pull it from my shoulder as if to use it as a lasso. Now that Lou is standing there unharmed, all I can think about is getting her back.

She's not an animal, Brendan!

She belongs to me! She ran away from me!

Don't hurt her!

I'll get her back, no matter the cost!

Step by step, I creep up the slope, always hidden by the trees. Old anger flares up inside me and it takes all my strength to contain it.

I'll be sure to not let you run away a second time!

Before I reach her, a rotten branch breaks under my sole.

Lou whips around like she's been bitten by a tarantula. When she discovers me, she collapses, makes herself small like she did in the RV. Her face is deathly pale, her eyes large and dark.

"Bren…" I think she whispered my name. Her chest rises and falls in rapid succession.

"There's nowhere to go from here," I explain to her in a calm voice, trying to hide my anger. I take two steps toward her. "The terrain ends at this ravine. You can walk along the cliff as long as you like, but you can't get into the valley." I sound more ominous than intended. I must not frighten her, but I shouldn't give her hope, either. Only now do I notice how close she is to the abyss and stop. "Come here. Don't make it any worse for yourself!"

She shakes her head imperceptibly and backs away. A few rocks tumble off the edge and Lou staggers.

"Careful!" I yell. My pulse is pounding hard in the pit of my throat.

Lou clutches the branch she's holding more tightly. She feels for the trunk with her feet. It juts out over the rocks like a balance beam for many feet—too many. "If you come closer, I'll jump!" she yells.

In my mind, I see her petite body smashing against the foot of the ravine. The thought makes me dizzy. This is madness! Oh, God, this is crazy! She's actually going to kill herself! I'm too far away to stop her.

"I don't want to scare you, Lou." I silently force myself to remain calm while sweat runs down my back. "I'm not going to hurt you. I promised you that a hundred times. That won't change. Even now." My skin is soaking wet, I wipe my forehead. "Come on, Lou, you know what can happen!"

"No!" She shakes her head frantically. "I don't want to be chained up like a prisoner again."

She looks at me over the few feet and a strange sadness creeps into her eyes. Like this afternoon when we dumped dirt onto the black water together.

There's so much in her eyes, so much she doesn't say. Maybe she feels more for me after all. Maybe she's torn by everything she's feeling.

The longer I look at her, the more I think I understand her. She's like me, she doesn't know herself anymore. She is confused, hurt, and angry. She is scared and desperate. Why should her feelings be pigeonholed? One good, one bad. One love, one hate. Everything is mixed up inside her as if there is only one compartment for everything.

"It was my fault," I say. My heart fills with pity and sorrow. "I shouldn't have made it so easy for you. The moment I was certain you took my lighter, I knew you were up to something. I should have acted immediately." I force myself to smile, though it never took so much strength to do so. "Well, too late now. So, let's go back and you can hate me again!"

"Why didn't you search me if you were so sure?" Lou asks defiantly.

"I promised not to touch you. So, how could I…"

"That's why you left the cupboard unlocked instead. To test me!"

"No!" The wind picks up. It blows Lou's hair and tugs at her clothes. She needs to get off the trunk immediately before a heavy gust knocks her off.

With renewed determination, I pull out the emergency drops. "It was carelessness, due to my anger and the first wave of a blackout. Besides, there was nothing in the cupboard that would have helped you get rid of me." I stare at the bottle. The wind howls in my ears.

"What are you going to do with that?" Lou asks in a thin voice.

"I'll sedate you so I don't have to use force to get you back. For your sake."

She flinches as if I hit her. For a moment, I think she's about to cry, but then she straddles the trunk.

"I'd rather jump before you force that stuff down my throat again!" she yells and pushes herself inch by inch on the trunk over the abyss. Her movements are clumsy and shaky. Every second, I'm more afraid she might lose her balance and fall into the gorge.

"Lou, get off it now!" It's supposed to sound like an order, but I fail. It sounds pathetic.

She slides further out. "Go away!" A tear rolls down her cheek, infinitely slowly, almost in slow motion.

A strange, unfamiliar feeling rises in my throat. It burns my throat. "Lou…" I want to hug her and comfort her, tell her everything will be fine. But I can't do that. "I'm not making you suffer on purpose. I know how much you miss your brothers. If I had known how bad this was going to be for you, then…"

"Then you would have kidnapped another girl?" she snaps. "We already talked about that!"

I step toward her, clutching the small bottle in my hand like a crutch. "I've always wanted you and you know why. That's why I don't think you're going to jump. You love life far too much." I don't know if I believe my own words.

More and more tears stream down Lou's pale cheeks. "You took my life away from me," she sobs. "You stole it."

Just like the monster stole mine. An immeasurable feeling of misery encircles my chest like an iron ring. For a reason I don't understand, I pocket the emergency drops and hold out a hand to Lou.

"Don't do it, Lou. Please…" If she hurts herself, it's my fault. Then she'll no longer have the opportunity to live her life, no matter with whom.

She glances down. There's nothing there but rock and water.

Lou, come back! I beg silently, but she slides out even further.

The sight of her sitting there on the narrow log over the ravine makes me nauseous.

I make the decision that, until now, was only in my subconscious. The bottle, which she got me to put away, has now surfaced in my mind.

"Lou," I say loudly enough for her to hear. "I know you don't want any of this. You are desperate. And you want me to see it. You'll go so far as to put yourself in danger to prove it to me. But guess what: I get it." Slowly, so as not to startle her, I back away from her and hurry along the edge of the cliff. When I'm far enough away from her, my arm reaches back and I throw the chain into the ravine.

"See?" I shout at her against the wind, laughing even though it feels wrong.

She stares at me for a moment. Confused, like I've ripped a mask off my face, like she's actually seeing me for the first time. That gaze sets my chest on fire. Everything in me is falling apart. I will lose her if I drink the concoction myself. I don't know for sure, but it's likely. With powerless desperation, I pull the bottle out of my pocket. I have no choice. I have to drink the stuff, or she'll never get off the log and back on the cliff because she doesn't trust me. But she has to get back on solid ground before she gets thrown off by the storm. If she doesn't jump.

You'll lose her! She will leave you!

It happens quickly. I feel myself falling to my knees while, at the same time, falling into an abyss. Dark wind whirls around me. I end up in the dark room, the dark part of my soul.

You're breaking , whispers the boy inside me.

For seconds, I lie in the dark and stare upward. It's too narrow, too black, too lonely. The new feeling from earlier flows into every cell, weighing them down.

So dark, so dark…underground…why did you leave? Don't stop breathing. Don't stop breathing. Keep your hands still. Do not cry. Don't stop breathing …

Is that my voice? It is inside me and outside me.

I hear someone calling. Clear and blue as the sky. "Bren? Bren…"

Lou!

In the darkness, I search for her face, but I can't find it. I'll lose her! I will lose her forever! I shatter into a million pieces that splinter around me like the shards of a mirror. Images flash before me stroboscopic-like. The face of a smiling young woman. Blonde hair frames her face. She peers down at me with bright eyes, her lips forming a word. Indistinctly, as if through fog, I hear it. Bren-dan. Bren-dan.

Mom?

She runs after me, arms outstretched to catch me. I squeal in delight and run clumsily away from her, but she grabs me, throws me lovingly onto the sofa cushions and thoroughly tickles me. Her long hair brushes my face and I grab it in my fists. "Mommy, Mommy, Mommy!" I laugh. "Mommy, stop!"

Something is choking me and I can't breathe. Red fog rises before my eyes and again I hear the deep voice: Step aside .

I'm knocked over and all the images are gone. For seconds, I see the boy walking along the sea, searching for the area that will be his home for years to come. Suddenly, I find myself back in my body even though I'm not really there.

"Bren," I hear Lou whisper. "You are here, with me. Not somewhere else. Bren…it's me…Lou."

I'm still on the ground.

"Bren, I don't know what happened to you in the past…but that's over. You are no longer locked up, you are free. You just have to look properly to see it."

I rock back and forth like I can take her voice into my nightmare. "Bren…everything is fine. You're not trapped."

Someone else takes my place. "Lies! Everything is black." I run to Lou, but it's not her anymore. She looks like my mom.

After that, something snaps inside me and flies away like a kite severed from its string.

When I come to, there's that voice again. It resonates as if from a distant land and it is beautiful, although it sounds so sad. Like the last time, I let it carry me up to the place where everything could be fine.

"Bren…" it whispers. "It's only me. Lou. Lou, the girl you kidnapped."

Lou. Lou. Lou. Dark and light, the name echoes within me as she continues to speak to me. More and more words drip like sweet balm onto my wounds. Run away. Don't hate you . I don't understand all of them, but they make sense, like notes in a piece of music. A part of me…actually likes.

I'm clutching a birch branch with one foot on the trunk.

My eyes hurt and I blink a few times. I don't want the voice to stop talking, I want it to lead me out. Again, sentence melodies get through to me. That part, the one that likes you…insane…completely insane…don't get it myself . I flow with the voice… got into your RV and kissed…not to run away from it .

Something cold touches my face. Gusts of wind.

Suddenly, I see clearly again and discover Lou in front of me. "Louisa?" I ask, stunned because I don't understand anything anymore. "What are you doing here?"

Tears stream down her cheeks. "I'm sitting in a tree and I'm scared," she whispers through sobs. Her whole body is shaking.

I'm heartbroken. She spoke to me again during the blackout. Maybe she even brought me back.

"I was gone, wasn't I?"

"Pretty much." She nods weakly.

I want to say a thousand things, but I can't put into words what's going on inside me.

"It's too dangerous." Decidedly, I rise from the tree trunk and search for the bottle. It must have rolled out of my hands as I drifted away. I spot it in the grass and pick it up.

I look at Lou again. "Come down from there, please…" I say urgently.

The wind inflates her sweater like a balloon.

"I'm not drinking that!" she exclaims, clinging to the branch like a shipwrecked woman.

"The concoction works almost immediately. It took me a long time to get the mixture just right." I walk backward into the woods to show Lou I'm keeping my distance. "Originally, it was meant for you, so it won't act quite as strong on me since I weigh a bit more than you do."

"On you?" she asks, confused.

I grip the bottle tighter and down the contents in one gulp. "I had no intention of taking it myself. But I guess you won't climb down that goddamn tree otherwise," I tell her. "I don't know when I'll have my next seizure. What if I try to get you down from there? Or you get startled by my behavior and lose your balance…"

It starts to roar in my ears. It sounds a bit like someone pumping air against my eardrums. My surroundings grow fuzzy, but this time it's the drug. I stumble blindly through the forest, my foot getting tangled in a stack of deadwood and I fall to the ground. Sweat pours down my face and my pulse pounds in my throat.

Clenching my teeth, I crawl to a bare tree trunk and sit against it.

I planned on feeding this stuff to Lou! The thought makes me feel so sick, I want to die.

"Bren?"

Lou sounds close. That means she's not in the tree anymore! My eyes want to close, but I keep them open convulsively, searching for Lou in the dim light.

She stands at the edge of the forest next to a spruce, pale and translucent like a small ghost. My heart warms as I look at her. Suddenly, I remember the storm.

"You shouldn't run away, too dangerous." My words sound slurred. "Besides, I'd catch you anyway." I feebly wipe my face as if it helps me think better, but my mind feels like it's being boiled. I force myself to look at Lou, but her face flickers erratically. "It gets much too cold at night. You'd freeze to death."

"But I have your lighter," she whispers, sounding guilty.

I have to smile even though I don't feel like it. "You're going to burn down the forest and then I'll know where you are anyway —if you survive." I close my eyes, unable to fight the leaden weariness any longer. My head just drops. "Lou?"

"Yes?"

I hear branches cracking. She comes to me. Slowly. I can almost see her looking shyly down at me.

"Storm…tonight…stay… Don't go, too dangerous." I slip away. My upper body sinks toward the forest floor. Two gentle hands grab my shoulders but cannot hold me.

Half asleep, I notice Lou is bending my legs. More and more, I merge with the earth.

Suddenly, warm breath is on my face. Is that Lou hovering over me?

Why is Lou bending over me and not fleeing?

She brushes back a strand of my hair. The touch feels so loving that something tenses up inside me.

Suddenly, I can think of so many things I want to say to her because when she leaves, she must pay attention to a thousand things. But I'm so tired. Images pass me by like a movie. Lou's oval face with the soft chin and sweet mouth—her profile picture on Facebook. Eyes like the Alaskan sky. Lou climbing out of the Toyota like the moment means nothing. Lou in the visitor center staring at me from the booth, clutching bear spray like a gun. "Lou…" I slur, tongue thick, eyes closed. Her hand jerks back. "If you go…the grizzlies…don't stop singing…"

She takes a deep breath. She doesn't say: okay or yes . She whispers: "Take care!" But it sounds a bit like tears.

I feel her rising and I'm instantly cold from the lack of her body heat. She mumbles something, but I no longer understand. Shortly thereafter, her steps rustle across the ground and all that remains is the whistling of the wind.