And The Sea Called Her Name (5 page)

I stepped forward and in that instant
something let loose. It seemed like a physical presence had
relinquished its grip on the room and fled, leaving the air cleaner
and lighter. Del’s eyes narrowed and she turned her head toward me,
her glazed stare slowly clearing.

Her mouth opened and the partially chewed
squid fell out into her hands. It was a mangled, slimy mess of
slick skin and broken tentacles. One limb death-flailed and wrapped
around her little finger. Del’s jaw worked and her fingers opened,
the writhing squid dropping free to the floor with a wet plop. The
scream that burst from her was a rending of sanity, a shriek so
full of repulsion and abhorrence that I flinched.

She shrank away from the squid that was
turning itself in a slow circle, its remaining legs twisting
obscenely. Del took two steps back, one of her hands coming up to
cover her mouth, surely to stanch another scream, but just then she
slipped. Her feet tangled and she began to fall.

I leapt over the dying cephalopod and snagged
her hand, ignoring the slime that covered it, and pulled her to me,
stopping her fall. She was stiff as a wooden timber and shaking.
Her whole body trembled beneath her clothes like she had been
hooked to high voltage. I stroked her hair.

“Shhhh, it’s okay, I’ve got you. I’ve got
you,” I whispered. My voice was surprisingly steady in comparison
to how my insides shriveled and crawled, mirroring the squid’s
feeble movements across the wood floor. My mind was screaming
countless questions, a barrage that I had no answers for.

“Jason.” She sobbed my name, crying fully now
and leaning all of her weight on me. “What’s happening to me?”

I continued to stroke her hair and stare at
the squid, its movements slowing. “I don’t know, honey. I don’t
know.”

~

I slept in bouts and fits through the night,
mostly because Del kept waking and clinging to me as if she were
falling. I had brought her up to our bathroom after the incident
and bathed her, washed her hair, helped her brush her teeth,
speaking as calmly as I could, reassuring her that she was okay,
that she was safe. She didn’t seem to be fully conscious of what I
was saying, her eyes drifting shut again and again. When I finally
got her into bed, she fell asleep almost at once. I took the
opportunity to go downstairs and retrieve the squid from the floor.
It was dead when I tossed it into the container with its two
healthy companions. I walked down to the ocean and stepped close to
the tideline, emptying them all into the sea. I stood there for a
short time, looking out across the darkening waters before
returning to the house. I had no appetite and simply washed my
hands and face before climbing into bed beside her, but not before
I called the first psychiatrist I found in the phone book. I left a
message on a separate line that was given, since it was after
hours, and the doctor, a man by the name of Jeff Chave, returned my
call in the morning saying he would be happy to see me before his
first appointment.

When I left the house, Del was sleeping
solidly for the first time all night, her hair splayed out on her
pillow. She looked so peaceful I could almost pretend that the
night before hadn’t happened. I locked the door behind me, jingling
Del’s keys in one hand. I didn’t want her having access to her car
while I was gone, and though I felt a twinge of self-loathing at
taking her transportation away like a jailer, I would never forgive
myself if something happened to her.

The drive to Chave’s office was fairly quick,
and his receptionist greeted me before showing me into a
comfortable room complete with a leather reclining chair and a
small stool beside it. One wall held a tall bookshelf filled with
tomes, and a wilting plant sat in one corner. A single window
covered with a thin drape let in sickly light from the day that
seemed would get no brighter. I sat in the recliner studying my
hands until I heard footsteps approaching the door. Chave stepped
into the room and greeted me with a warm smile and a handshake
filled with strength I didn’t expect. He was middle aged, a small
potbelly hid behind a yellow shirt beneath a hounds tooth coat. He
had a full head of iron-gray hair and wore a beard the same color.
His eyes were dark brown, magnified by the thick glasses he
wore.

He took a seat on the stool beside me and
scooted it back, giving us some distance to study one another.

“So Jason, normally I spend the better part
of the first hour getting to know my patients, their interests,
their familial records and whatnot, but you sounded urgent on your
message last night.” Chave’s eyes ran over me, missing nothing.
“What can I do for you?”

How could I begin? How could I speak of what
had transpired over the prior months? My initial thoughts had been
to test out the doctor, see if he would be a person we could trust
before sending Del to him. But now, under his unflinching gaze, I
faltered.

“Doctor, I don’t know what’s happening to my
wife. I—” My mouth hung open and my tongue worked, but no words
came. Instead, tears flooded my vision and one leaked out. I wiped
it away and shook my head, trying to clear my voice with a
cough.

“It’s okay, Jason, believe me, nothing you’re
going to say is going to shock me. I won’t judge you or your wife.
I won’t condemn any actions you’ve taken so far. I’m simply here to
listen and help if I can. So why don’t you begin at the beginning,
as they say.”

I took a deep breath, nodding, and began to
speak.

Everything poured from me. It came out in an
unbroken narrative threaded with patches where my voice failed me.
I choked out last night’s events, barely keeping control of my
emotions. My heels drummed on the floor and I felt the urge to bolt
from the room, just tear the door open and run into the street,
breathe the fresh air and keep going until my body failed me. When
I finished, a deep silence invaded the room and Chave blinked,
taking in a long breath.

“Well Jason, first off, I’m very glad you
came to me because this does sound serious. The loss of one’s
surroundings or conscious acts are not things to be taken lightly.
Without seeing your wife and speaking to her, I can only make
educated guesses as to her condition.”

“That’s fine, I’m just looking for something
to go on.”

“I know you’re frightened and worried for
your wife and unborn child, but this isn’t the end of the world.
The mind is more complex than we could ever know. It’s like the
ocean. No matter how far we delve into its depths and map its
floor, we’ll never truly know all of its secrets. And don’t feel
ashamed for your emotional responses to the events, they were and
are perfectly normal given the circumstances.” Chave paused and
shifted on the stool. “Jason, I believe your wife may be
experiencing some type of seizures, but not any typical kind that
can be easily diagnosed. I believe these episodes are unique and
possibly are being brought on by a traumatic event in her
past.”

I shook my head. “She would have told me if
something terrible had happened to her. I mean, her mother
disappeared seven or eight years ago, but there was never anything
that pointed to foul play. Her body was never found or
anything.”

“Ah, but this might be the source of what
we’re looking for. Even something a person has divulged and dealt
with on a conscious level may come back to haunt them, so to speak.
Memories are the densest things in the world, Jason. They are
heavier than anyone knows, most times their burden becomes clear
last to those who carry them.”

“You think her mother missing could have—” I
waved my hand. “triggered all this?”

“It’s possible, given the right
circumstances. Especially with the expected arrival of your child.
The responsibility of parenthood is daunting to say the least.
Perhaps, and I’m only extrapolating once again, perhaps the changes
to your wife’s body along with the realization that she will soon
be a mother, brought these emotions and memories to the surface and
these episodes she’s experiencing are her mind’s way of
coping.”

I struggled to absorb the theory. I hadn’t
given much thought to Del’s mother in years. She had been so
matter-of-fact about the whole thing, it seemed a moot topic that
she’d put to rest long before she met me. But perhaps the doctor
was correct. Maybe by becoming a mother herself something inside
her had broken open, a trove of undiscovered emotions that bubbled
up from a chasm she didn’t know she played host to.

Slowly I nodded. “It could be,” I said, not
looking up.

“I would suggest your first stop be the
hospital,” Chave said, pulling out a small pad of paper and writing
on it. He tore off the note and handed it to me. “This is a
referral for an MRI. We want to rule out anything physical before
we go any further. Once she gets a clean bill of health, then we
can move on to treatment if she’s willing.”

I folded the piece of paper over and placed
it in my coat pocket. Standing, I held out my hand. Chave rose as
well and shook, giving my palm a reassuring squeeze.

“Everything will work out for you both, I’m
sure. You need anything, day or night, don’t hesitate to call
me.”

I told him I would and left the dim office,
giving the receptionist a quick tip of my head before stepping
outside.

So there it was. An adversary neither of us
ever dreamed of facing. An enemy from within that couldn’t be
stabbed, shot, or overpowered physically. But we could still fight
it. There was hope. Always hope.

I climbed into the truck as the first drops
of rain cascaded down from the burgeoning clouds that had expanded
from horizon to horizon. A small tree branch clattered across the
pickup’s hood and skittered away down the sidewalk as several
people caught in the gale hurried with hands held above their heads
or tugging at coat collars.

I drew out my phone and pulled up the
clinic’s number before putting the truck in gear, windshield wipers
sliding swaths of rain aside as I steered into the lane leading out
of town. A voice answered after two rings and I asked for Megan
Teller’s extension. The line was silent while I was transferred and
I leaned forward, turning on the defrost to dispel the fog
obscuring the windshield. I made a right turn and then I was on
Route One heading north away from the city.

“This is Megan.”

I was planning on leaving a message telling
Megan to see if she could schedule an MRI that day or as soon as
possible, so when she answered I was surprised and delighted.

“Megan, it’s Jason Kingsley.”

“Jason, hi! How are you?”

“Good, good. Say, I was wondering if you’d be
able to talk to Del’s doctor and see if you could schedule her for
an MRI. She’s been having some…issues lately and we’re a little
worried to be honest. I’ve got a referral too if you need one.”

“Oh, sorry to hear that. I was actually going
to call her this week to see how the pregnancy was going.”

A cold pick of ice slid slowly through my
stomach at the tone of her voice.

“Well, the pregnancy’s going fine. I mean,
you were there at the ultrasound she had, right?”

The resounding silence on the line made the
tightening fist in my chest clench harder.
Please, God, no, no,
no.

“Jason, I don’t know what to say. I thought
Del was going to another hospital. She hasn’t had an appointment
here since last year.”

~

I’d never covered the miles between town and
our home as fast as I did that day. Not even when I was seventeen,
racing my best friend Benny through the curves at night. Given the
fact that I was calling our house and Del’s cell phone in
succession the entire trip; it’s an absolute miracle that I didn’t
kill anyone on that twisty road.

A low hum thrummed below the straining of the
truck’s engine, and I realized I was making the noise myself, deep
down in my chest where I hadn’t known it was possible for a person
to create sound. I took the last turn off the main road too fast
and the rear end of the pickup slewed to the side, raking gravel in
a fan that flew off into the ditch and rattled against a lone
mailbox at the end of the road. Then our drive was on my right, its
path splitting when the view opened to the sea. To the left was
Harold’s house, dark and quiet in the rain, and on the right was
ours, bright and shining.

The frenzied animal in my chest calmed only a
fraction at seeing the lights. They might mean Del was okay, maybe
even up making a late breakfast for herself, but they did nothing
to explain the fact that she’d lied to me about both of her
checkups at Megan’s clinic. Why? But that was the question of the
hour, wasn’t it? Why was any of this happening to us?

I slid the truck to a stop a couple feet from
our walk and didn’t bother to shut it off. The rain hammered my
back and head, its cold touch like dead, probing fingers. I yanked
the door open and was yelling her name before I cleared the
entry.

No reply.

I spun through the house in a fury, spending
only enough time in each room to be sure Del wasn’t anywhere within
before moving on. I half slid, half ran down the stairs from our
room, the last vestiges of hope evaporating with the knowledge that
she wasn’t in the house.

I stopped in the kitchen, trying to think
through the whirlwind my mind had become. Where? Where would she
go? Immediately I ran for the door, rushing through the rain to the
edge of our yard. I leapt onto the highest rock I could see, nearly
slipping from its wet top.

The sea tossed itself against the beach below
in utter abandon. It was as if it shared in my despair and wished
to dash itself apart on the rocks. Or maybe it was reaching for me
after all my time spent upon it. Perhaps it wanted revenge for
harvesting its waters without recompense. Maybe it had already
taken something back from me as payment.