Blinded (18 page)

You alone know the way I should turn
.

You can’t turn that way.

Hear my cry, for I am very low
.

You breathe in and breathe out and breathe in again and feel the sting of tears in your eyes.

Lord, please forgive me. Please forgive me and let me get out of this mess. Let me make something good out of this, Lord, and help me. Lord, help me
.

It’s all you can say.

All you can do.

The rest is up to him.

You know he can hear you.

Behind you, behind this taxi, the restless, endless beast of a city begins another day, stretching and waiting to devour another soul.

It tried to devour yours. And it almost succeeded.

But God spared you.

This time.

S
ITTING DOWN IN THE AIRPORT TERMINAL
, resting on a chair across from a businessman reading a paper, sipping on a cup of coffee, you feel the exhaustion stifle you. You feel nauseated, for multiple reasons. You just want to get on the plane and close your eyes and wish for the last twenty-four hours to disappear. From your life and your memory and your very existence.

Life doesn’t work like that
.

Your phone vibrates in your pocket. For a second you feel a sense of worry.

Reality bites back and it starts now
.

It could be any one of a number of people. But you don’t recognize the number.

You open up your phone carefully.

“Hello?”

“Michael.”

For a moment you think it’s Jasmine. But the woman’s voice is different. A little lower.

“It’s Amanda.”

Something happened to Jasmine. Riley ended up hurting her
.

“What happened?” she asks.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean—I mean exactly that. What happened?”

“Are you okay?”

The voice on the other end hesitates for a second, as if wondering what you mean.

“Where are you?” she asks.

“The airport.”

“You sound bad. Long night?”

She laughs and you find the laughter, the sheer frivolity of her tone, remarkable.

“Why are you calling?” you ask.

“I just spoke to Riley.”

Your accomplice. Your partner
.

“He says you were waving a gun at him.”

Again she laughs.

What does she want?

“So why didn’t you go through with it?”

“What are you talking about?” you ask, annoyed but too tired to be angry.

“J’s little guinea pig couldn’t run up the ladder, could he?”

What is this crazy chick talking about?

“What do you want?”

Amanda pauses for a minute, as though she’s driving or doing something.

“I just want to know one thing,” Amanda says.

“Where’s Jasmine?”

Amanda curses. “Please, stop calling her Jasmine. That’s getting old.”

“Is she okay?”

“What? Are you still … you’re actually worried about her?”

Amanda laughs.

“What’s so funny?” you ask.

“You.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I mean, she did a number on you. I just can’t believe you didn’t go through with it.”

“With what?”

“Tell me one thing. Did you do anything?”

“Do anything?”

“Yeah. You went back to your place, right? So—did you get a souvenir for your troubles? A going-away present?”

“Please.”

“Just tell me.”

“Nothing happened,” you say.

“Seriously?”

“No.”

“Wow.”

She sounds genuinely surprised.

“What do you want?”

“J won’t tell me the truth. She has this tendency to lie. Especially with bets.”

What?

“With what?”

Amanda laughs. “Mister, you need to get on that plane and never come back to New York.”

“What do you mean by ‘bets’?”

“I’ve got to hand it to you, though. Remember what I said about her getting men to do whatever she asks? She didn’t get it this time.”

This time
.

The words stun you into silence.

Your hand starts to shake.

This time
.

“The girl is creative, but this time it didn’t work,” Amanda says.

“This time,” you say.

“That’s what happens when you have a lot of time on your hands.”

“What?”

Amanda laughs. “You swear you guys didn’t—”

“Nothing happened.”

“Okay. That’s what I needed.”

“Wait—hold on.”

“What?”

Your mind is reeling with a hundred questions needing answers.

“Was hooking up—was that part of the bet?” you ask.

“That’s usually the bet. But this time, we made it a little more … interesting.”

“Interesting how?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Amanda says. “J lost.”

“Those guys at the club. At Exit. Who were they?”

“Bad habits and parents who don’t pay bills.”

“What?”

“Use your imagination. It’s not that hard. Look, I gotta—”

“Who were the guys who held me up at gunpoint? Dropped me off in the middle of nowhere?”

“J’s bodyguards. They hate it when she disappears.”

“What’d they have against me?” you ask.

“They were probably trying to scare you. They were just playing. But the guys at the club—J didn’t see that coming tonight. But it made things more—well, I’ll say it again. More interesting.”

“Was Jasmine ever in danger?”

Amanda sounds like she’s outside walking now. “Depends on who you ask.”

“Meaning?”

“Her parents think she needs to be in rehab. But besides that, no, not really. Those guys won’t hurt her. Now guys like you, they will.”

“And Riley?”

“He’s probably the only decent thing that’s happened to her in a long time. God knows he’s tried and tried again with her. But that’s why J’s so sick and twisted.”

“Why’s that?” you ask.

“Because she tried to get you to kill him. And all for what? Just a bet. Which … I … won.”

Amanda curses and laughs. Before you can say anything, the line goes dead.

You sit and stare at the phone.

You have nothing left. No energy, no emotion, no expression, nothing left.

But the fear still resides deep down.

And it’s starting to bubble again.

People pass, and you wish you could be like one of them, nameless and faceless and blameless.

All of us are blameless
.

But not today. Not today.

Today you are to blame.

T
HE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE
as you pass her by are sky-blue eyes that linger for a while as she greets you. Long, straight molasses hair is gathered in a clip and falls neatly behind her dark blue suit. You fall into a seat and sigh. You still can’t believe you’re here, on this plane, ready to take off.

For a few moments you sit there, wondering if anybody is going to sit next to you. Thankfully, nobody does.

What are you going to tell Lisa? You don’t know. You really don’t know.

Something almost happened but does that make it any better that it didn’t happen? I still tried and still went looking for something to possibly happen
.

You close your eyes but continue to see Jasmine’s face, her
cold look as she got into the elevator. You hear Amanda’s laugh and her casual confession.

I don’t get it. I really don’t get it
.

The plane soon takes off and you feel glad when it is up in the air and the wheels are pulled in and you’re heading home.

You look up the aisle with two seats on each side and see a young woman glance at you and smile. It’s an innocent smile, the kind that might say
You look tired
or
I’d like to get to know you
or a hundred other statements. A sweet, innocent smile.

Perhaps there is nothing innocent about another woman’s smile.

You close your eyes and see Lisa in your mind. Her sweet smile, every intention known, every desire well placed.

You wonder if you should say anything.

You know you’re not a bad man, an evil man, a typical man. But you’re still a sinner. Still flawed. Still blinded by desires that sometimes brush by like the touch of a stranger on a city street.

Sleep should come but doesn’t. In the darkness you see Jasmine’s eyes, her smile, her glance beckoning you to come.

You hear her laugh.

They all mock you.

You know they will haunt you for some time.

Why? Why did this all happen?

You don’t know why. You don’t know much of anything anymore.

But you know that the two things you need the most in your life now—God and Lisa—are the two things you’ve overlooked for a long time.

I’m sorry
.

I’m so sorry
.

You look out the window to the skies and the heavens and know that he’s hearing you. And that forgiveness is something that is not optional. Forgiveness is essential.

You know you need to speak the same words to Lisa. And to try, after all this time, to start again.

Your eyes grow heavy, and for the first time in twenty-four hours you drift off to sleep.

“T
ALK TO ME
.”

Her voice is a whisper, a soft petal floating down in your dream as you hover somewhere high in the clouds.

Is she really right there next to you?

Is she really at your side, not abandoning you?

“I’m here.”

It’s dark, but you can make out the line of Lisa’s face against her pillow and under the covers.

“You’re still here,” you say.

“I’m always going to be here.”

“I’m sorry,” you say.

“It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not.”

“I love you.”

“I’m sorry, Lisa. I’m just—I’m going to change.”

“I know you want to.”

“I just—sometimes I feel locked up. Sometimes I feel so—I don’t know. I struggle so much.”

“But you’re trying to make this work.”

“Feels like I haven’t for some time.”

“We’ll get through this,” Lisa says.

You feel her hand touch yours and clench it.

“I thought—I hoped—things would be different if we had kids.”

“They are.”

“But—I know—but—I just, I’m praying that God will … I don’t know … really get through to me.”

“He will.”

But how
, you wonder in the silence of your bedroom.

How will God get through to you when you don’t want to listen to him? When you are running away from him? When nothing gets your attention anymore? When you’re jaded and busy and when life is overwhelming?

So in the silence of your room, with Lisa still at your side, still your wife and your partner, you pray. It’s the first time you’ve prayed in a long time.

Lord, do something in me to get my attention, to bring me back closer to you. Help me to be a better person, to be a better husband, a better man
.

You still feel Lisa’s touch. You don’t deserve it. You don’t deserve her.

Help me to love her more and help me to love myself and this world less
.

It’s a simple prayer.

Lord do something in my life to change me
.