Shadowed Soul (17 page)

“Thomas?”  Beth began to tighten one loop on her wrist. “There’s an episode with Samantha where she and this guy--”

“Put those fucking things down will you, Beth?” I snapped at her.  “Just put them in the box and forget about them.”

She looked at me for a long time and then slowly put the handcuffs down.

“What’s wrong with you, Thomas?”  Beth’s voice quavered with helplessness as she tried to understand the man with whom she had chosen to spend the rest of her life.  But if I could not understand myself then probably Beth had no chance of doing so either.

“I'm so sorry, Beth!” I reached for her arm but she instinctively shifted her position outside of reach.  “I don't know why I bought them, Beth.  I don't want to hurt you or tie you up or do anything like that to you.  I just want to be with you.”

“The thing is, Thomas, I would have done it for you.  You know why?  I trust you.  And maybe there’s a part of me that once you to take control in whatever way you can, then maybe that would be a great thing, because, well, maybe we’d connect better, because sometimes it feels like you're lost to me.  Like, I can’t connect to you.”  I began to say something but she raised a hand.  “Listen, there are millions of normal couples around the world who use handcuffs, silk scarves or rope to keep each other prisoner in the bedroom for a few hours when they desire it.  It's a little kinky, but not completely out of the ordinary.  It doesn't make them bad people, Thomas, and you buying me handcuffs don’t make you a bad person.  It doesn't make me love you any less because I know you don't mean me any harm.  The only time that you’re scary is when you react to something normal like this in such a dark way.  I'm your wife, Thomas, I'm your wife and I'm your friend and I'm not some perfect doll that should be placed in some unbreakable cabinet. I want us to be together, honey.  I want that more than anything I can think of, us all together living a semi-normal life.”

“Semi-normal?  Is that all you can expect from me?” I snapped defensively.

“For fuck sake, Thomas,” exclaimed Beth who rarely cursed.  “A semi-normal life is all anyone in this world can expect.  I understand that you have your depression to deal with and I want to help you, I honestly do but, please don't take this the wrong way, I have my own problems that I need you to help me with.  My failing eye sight!  My recovery from being cut open to deliver our son!  Semi-normal is not a bad thing, in fact we've had more happy times than bad times haven't we?”

“Have we?” retorted the Shadowed Soul through me.  I had not even registered Beth’s remarks about her sight and surgery.

“Grow up, Thomas, of course we have.” Beth leaned forward and took my hand in hers. “I don't care about the handcuffs.  If you had bought me a ball gag and 400 meters of rope I wouldn't have worried because you are
my
Thomas. I need you to be who you are and if that means that sometimes your Shadowed Soul comes to hang out with us then I can accept that and deal with it as long as you can help me deal with my problems? I need you, baby.”

“You have your mom and dad,” whined the Shadowed Soul, so even I became irritated.

“I chose you to be with,” said Beth coolly. “I love my parents because they are my parents. I love you because you came to my life and showed me how unbelievably sweet and sexy and caring and funny and clever you can be. That's who I love and that's who I want to spend my life with.  You can talk to me about anything, Thomas, and I will never judge you.  If you need help, I will help you.  If you need to be left alone, I'll do that. What I can not do is deal with your overreactions to things that don't frickin’ matter.  All that matters is the three of us!”

“And, Bailey,” I reminded.

“Of course, Bailey,” said Beth, confounded.  “For our family to survive, we all need to work together in whatever way we can, Thomas.  That means that I will support you with everything I've got but I also need you to be honest with me. If there is a reason that you bought those handcuffs and you think that I'll be angry, guess what, I won't because I know the stress that you've been under. I'll only be angry and hurt if you don't trust me enough to be open and honest. I don't mean that as an ultimatum.  I only mean it as your wife and I only say it because I love you.  I hope that I'm not being too harsh.”

This beautiful woman was the only person with whom I could share anything.  She had given me the greatest gift for Christmas:  The chance to be open with her.  I knew that if I told her about everything I had been going through she would accept it as an aberration that came along with the Shadowed Soul.  With the festering guilt of what I had been doing diluted with honesty then I would have a better chance of defeating this darkness that hovered over me like a hydraulic press.  I squeezed her hand.  I had made a huge mistake.

“Beth, I promise you if there was a reason then I would tell you. I don't know why I bought the handcuffs because I don't want to use them on you. I think the stress of having lost my job has just made things weirder than usual.”

Beth nodded and pulled me into a gentle embrace.  As I lay vulnerable in her arms the Shadowed Soul prepared to take an even stronger grip on me.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

The snow subsided a few hours ago but a sudden drop in temperature had turned quiet streets to sheet ice.  Stars winked in the sky.  Ahead of me, Bailey’s breath fogged our way, as he stopped intermittently to sniff out a clue.  We had been walking for at least an hour.  Unable to sleep I had crept out of bed after Beth had nodded off, apparently at peace with events surrounding my gift.

My thoughts cleared in the bracing night air.  Typically, night walking stimulated my paranoia.  Tonight however Bailey placated my fears of muggers and provided me a heightened sense of confidence.  This brave dog rendered me untouchable. Sometimes I wondered just exactly why I had connected so well with Bailey.  I had no history of owning a dog and until I met this faithful black Labrador I had never felt any real affinity with dogs.  Bailey’s camaraderie and air of confidence made me feel secure. He got me.  At times I missed him more than I missed my wife because things were never complicated with Bailey.  When he saw me he was happy.  He did not over-think.  He just knew instinctively what was right, what was wrong.  There was never anything psychologically loaded or heavy with him. My paranoia was never transferred toward this gentle animal.  I knew Bailey would never let me down simply because he could not be judgmental; there was no duplicity within him.  His heart and soul were pure. Maybe that was why there was such a connection? I needed something bright and simple to latch onto and Bailey was always consistent.  He had been trained since he was a puppy to meet all of Beth's requirements.  He kept her safe when she was out walking and he gave her guidance so that she would never be lost. The weird thing was that even though he did that for her on a physical level as her seeing-eye dog, for me he did it on a psychological and emotional level.  It was only when Bailey was present that I managed to stay completely on track.  In almost every way Bailey acted as my guide dog too.  His understanding had always been preternaturally accurate.  He knew when I required his company. 

As we walked through the silent night it dawned on me just how empty everything had seemed without him.  Without Bailey giving me focus I had degenerated and I knew that if he had been in my apartment during these bleak months I would have been able to regain strength.  His company would have been a crutch.

The understanding way in which Beth had taken those handcuffs had freaked me out.  Why would she even consider restraint as something fun? It wasn't an act she should even consider.  The idea of seeing Beth naked and bound disgusted me.  It brought reality to this ineffable situation. If she had shouted at me consumed by rage at the inappropriateness of the gift I could have understood her reaction, but that quiet acceptance seemed wrong.  I did not know how to react to it.

My addiction to bondage-porn was something that had been brought by the Shadowed Soul and I desperately wanted to keep that aspect of my life as far away from Beth as possible. Beth’s complicity in this murky aspect of me made me nauseous. One thing about the conversation that had freaked me out was the fact that after we had turned the lights out I had begun to imagine my wife, my beautiful wife naked and trussed with rope and chains. From the depths of my imagination these images came to me clearly and to my shame the very thought of this scenario began to cause an erection.  Neither of us were prudish with each other, in fact we were passionate and adventurous lovers and maybe if this thought had occurred to us both a time when I was not so helplessly entangled with the Shadowed Soul the idea would have retained some level of innocence and perhaps excitement.  But as this aligned with the darkness in my heart, a stain spread across my soul; there was no innocence or pleasure in these thoughts and I had begun to blame Beth for awakening the tiny kernel of breathless lust that had begun to course through me.

Of course she held no responsibility for my feelings.  She knew nothing about this part of me.  She had no idea of the hours and days that had been lost to the many websites I had visited.

As we walked I thought I heard the echoes of footfall of the Shadowed Soul accompanying Bailey and me.

Maybe Beth did know everything.  Maybe with her loss of eyesight she perceived the Shadowed Soul even more acutely than I.  I knew little about the internet and how it worked and it seemed plausible she had found out about the websites I had visited.  I wondered if she had feigned willingness to be a hostage in order to make a final and justified break from me.  What would have happened if I had attempted to chain my wife’s hands behind her back?  Would she have screamed for Pete and Dorothy and would they have thrown me out of the house? Maybe higher desires were not sexual but in some way wrapped around the idea that I was bad for her?  Nothing else made any sense; this seemed the only logical explanation for Beth’s easy understanding. There was no way that the woman I had fallen in love with would have ever debased herself to be objectified, bound and gagged at my disposal.  She was stronger than that, much, much stronger.  Did she honestly hate me so much that she would trap me in this way? It made me angry even though I could not blame her.  I knew that she still loved me and that meant she would have to follow duplicitous paths to get rid of me without creating a scene. It was the only way she could do it without hurting herself, using this knowledge to find out exactly who I had become made sense.  And although I was terribly hurt by her actions I could understand them and I could find no reason to hate her.  How could I?  She was beautiful and she needed to find a way to obtain her freedom and allow me to save face.

I stopped walking and looked around and found that I did not recognize any of the buildings that surrounded Bailey and me.  It was as though we had walked to a different city.  I did a 360.  The windows of the buildings looked like the dark, glassy eyes of disinterested creatures that gazed upon me with contempt.  As Bailey and I stood in the desolate urban canyon, the sharp awareness of my insignificance in the universe throbbed in my mind.  Rising waves clawed at my heart as if I would be annihilated.  Even the steady and solid presence of Bailey seemed to have little effect to reduce my panic. I had no idea exactly where I was.  Had we walked into a world populated by hostile spirits that peered out at me from shadowed corners?  While I knew that was insane, part of me wondered irrationally this was where the Shadowed Soul came from.  Maybe he ruled over me so much that I had been banished to his bleak ghost city.  The foolishness of these thoughts made me angry; I was a rational man.  Even in the nadir of my depression I had always managed to maintain threads of reason.

Bailey growled a deep rumbling bass and stared intently at the end of the street. I needed to get back to Beth but I had walked for so long and paid so little attention I was completely lost.  If something happened to us here who would know? If we were injured beyond comprehension, then would I lie forgotten in a strange hospital bed as Beth and her parents searched for me? Or would the authorities be able to track down Beth through Bailey’s tags?  Bailey growled again, his body tensed and the hair on the back of his neck bristled.

“What is it, boy?” I asked in a low voice.  He whined, long and low sending a shiver through me.  He gazed at the end of the street.  I squinted through the darkness, my eyes strained to pick out some detail wherever the streetlamps forced themselves upon the darkness, but I could see nothing.

The initial comfort I had felt in the darkness had been replaced by a very real sense of hostility.  We turned and walked in the opposite direction.  I did not want to look back; I feared I would become a target.  Like the childhood story of Ichabod Crane that had always haunted me.  In
The Legend of Sleepy Hollow
the notion that one could be so close to safety, yet still so far away had tugged at my dreams for many years.  All I wanted to do was sequester myself in the comfort of Beth's arms again. I wished at that moment that I had worn my watch as I had no idea what time it was and even the disconnection from time made me feel even more alone.  Bailey had stopped growling and was now walking with a determined gate along the road.  Like Gunpowder, Ichabod Crane’s horse, Bailey’s instinct seemed to be leading us deliberately toward home. The buildings and landmarks around me still seemed alien like the gnarled forest of Sleepy Hollow.  In the same way that Ichabod Crane had been stalked relentlessly by the ghost of the Hessian soldier in the form of the Headless Horseman was I, too, being followed by something hostile and other-worldly?  Had I somehow invoked the Shadowed Soul into physical being with my constant reference to him?  Perhaps that was how these things happened:  Simple focus?  For years people had told me that if I believed in myself enough I could do anything.  Miss Alaniz had chanted her magic, “Focus, focus, hokus, pokus.”  Believing in something long enough and hard enough could potentially make that thing real, couldn't it?  Good or bad. As we walked I concentrated on the sounds around me, attempting to find any hint that I was being followed but all I could hear were my own footfalls on the sidewalk occasionally crunching through the frozen snow.