The Aliveagainers

12 - Sleep

I move through the corridor and make my way up the stairs, walkin' the way I saw Késhaun go, and step through a doorway into a dining room. This place sure is nice, the table's all set up and a grand ol' lookin' shelf lines one wall, full of old plates and glasses. I walk through another open doorway into a hall and see a set of stairs leadin' up. The light is on up there and it spills down the stairs, a warm, golden glow.

I move on up and see a bathroom door open, hearin' the toilet flush. I wish he hadn't have done that but I go inside and see him washin' his hands. Then he steps up and leans over to take a drink straight from the faucet and that makes me smile.

"Hey, baby, remember to try to be quiet. It's important," I say.

He rubs his face and nods. "I know," he says, then lets out a big yawn.

That sets me off and I cover my face. I feel cold and weak.

"Let's find you somewhere to sleep," I say and I move to the room where the light is on. It's a bedroom, and I can tell it belongs to a young man. Some dirty socks and a grass stained jersey hang out the top of a laundry hamper. Empty bottles of Gatorade are piled up on a desk covered with books and notes. There's a TV in the corner and an Xbox and a bunch of games scattered around the floor. There's a few trophies for baseball on a table and I take a look.

Jamie Morrissey.

A large bed in the middle sits unmade and messy, but overall it seems fine. I walk to the cupboard on the side and open it up, checkin' inside. Then I look under the bed and look up at Késhaun.

"Just checkin' for monsters," I say with a smile.

His eyes widen and I wish I hadn't have said that. "Ain't no monsters, baby, I was just teasin'. We're safe here. This is Jamie's bed, he's a boy like you and he plays baseball."

"How do you know, Kayla?" he asks.

I pause. "These people are friends of mine, and Jamie would be happy for you to sleep in his bed."

He climbs on top and I pull the covers over him and I swear he's asleep before I even tuck him in. He's still got the teddy and it's all filthy with mud.

"Let me go clean him up for you."

"Ok Kayla" he nods.

"Hey, what's his name anyway?"

"I don't know." He says softly.

"We need to give him a name. He looks all fancy. He probably would have a fancy name. Don't you think?"

He smiles, his eyes heavy.

"I'm gonna call him Charles. If that's ok with you."

He gives me the slightest of nods.

I go out to the hallway and back to the bathroom. I put the teddy under the sink and turn the tap on soft, just to let a trickle of water come onto it. I wash the mud off the fur as best I can. Then I look at myself. What a mess. My face has a big ol' cut down my cheek and dried blood goes all down my neck. My hair looks disgustin' and I think of havin' a shower but I just wipe the worst of the blood away and then go back to him.

He's a sleep and I place Charles under the crook of his arm.

I look to the windows but because the light's so bright and it's so dark they just look like pools of oil. So I move to the wall and flick off the light, then wait a while till my eyes catch up.

I go and look outside and there's the faintest glow of the stars above. I can see the cornfield sweepin' out long and wide ... and nothin' else. It seems mighty quiet.

I check Késhaun one more time then make my way downstairs, carefully now. Walkin' into the kitchen I think of what to say to the woman and pause. Somethin' makes me stop and then I go to the drawers, openin' one up and reachin' in. There's just oven mitts and stuff in this one so I try the next. There I find it, a bunch of cutlery, and then next to it I put my hands around a knife. The first one is too long, way too big, so I keep reachin' till I find another. It's short but sharp and I grab it and reach to put it somewhere. But I don't want to put it in my pants in case I cut myself so I just hold it in one arm and then move to the room where she sits.

"What took you so long?" she asks. "I poured you a drink but was almost ready to drink it myself."

"Just makin' sure he was okay."

"There's something very unusual about your boy, isn't there?"

I move carefully along a couch and sit down, reachin' quietly to place the knife behind a cushion under my right arm. She ain't lookin' at me.

"I hope you don't think I'm being too forward. It's just I can tell these things. It must have been very hard for you."

I don't say anythin', but reach out and feel for the wine glass. I can't hardly see anythin' in the room it's so dark.

"Glad you turned off that light. I can barely stand to see myself in that ol' TV. I look like hell. And you look worse!" she says with a laugh.

I lift it up and take a sip. I ain't much of a wine person but I can imagine it's a fancy one. It tastes like velvet, all soft and heavy. I take another then lean back and in a moment I can feel a buzz, although I figure it's mostly because I'm so tired.

"You'd never believe it, looking at me now." She's speakin' a little softer now. The sharp edge to her voice gone, and now it comes out a bit weak, and all together tired.

"I was the belle of the ball, back in school. Oh the boys on the team had carried on, and Michael had lifted me right up, carrying me on his shoulders can you believe? I was pretty, back then."

She sighs.

"I never should've left him."

I ask her why but she doesn't say anythin'.

We sit there silent. Every now and then I hear her pourin' herself some more wine. I hardly touch mine. There's somethin' I can't shake from my mind. There's somethin'... some thing I feel like I should remember. But I can't quite recall.

I lean back further and sit there starin' at the darkness.