Schism

Chapter 29 part 1

Chapter 29

It had been forever since Jess had stayed out so late, especially on a school night.  Sarah had been trying to get her to go out for a long time and for her friend, the weekend began Thursday night.  With all of the stress, bad memories and guilt over the last few days, a few drinks had sounded helpful.

 Their cab sped around a corner and she had to brace herself with her free hand while Sarah spelled and signed into her other.  Even with the overeager cab driver, she was glad Sarah wasn't driving.  The drinks at the bar might have actually improved Sarah's driving, but it wasn't a theory she wanted to test with her own life.

She shook her head as Sarah finished the sentence.  "No, don't you dare go back to that bar.  That guy smelled awful.  Don't you dare," she signed back.

Sarah laughed, signed back.  "Cute butt."

"You have a one-track mind.  Can't you talk about anything besides boys?" Jess asked.

The cab jerked to a halt and Jess nearly fell forward as she listened to Sarah's signing.  "This it?" the cab driver asked.

Jess interrupted Sarah, pointed out the window.  "Yeah," Sarah answered, then finished signing her retort.  "You have a zero track mind."

Jess went through her billfold, pulled a bill from the ten pocket and pushed it toward Sarah, who shoved it right back.  With Sarah's flirting, neither of them had needed to pay for a drink all night long.  The cost of the cab would have been little to pay for the stress relief Jess had found that night, but she accepted Sarah's offer.

They hugged and Sarah pushed her out the door.  Jess felt her friend's hand slide down and pinch her in the ass on the way out.  She whirled and signed.  "Pervert!"

"Prude,"  Sarah called back.

Jess laughed and felt the cab begin to pull away as she reached out to shut the door.  She hopped back quickly, bounced back against the side of a parked car.  She recovered, felt along the side of the car until she found the rear bumper and walked to the sidewalk.

As she reached out to find the lamp post, she smelled the gasoline.  The odor was faint, mixed with the smell of smoke and body odor.

"Harold?" she asked.

There was no answer.

She stood still, listened.  There was a shuffling step to her right, down the sidewalk, away from the entrance to the apartment.  It sounded like someone walking with a limp, not like Harold's tentative steps.  She started to turn to the noise and froze.

What if it was him?  She had been worried all week, since William had escaped, that he would come here.  She had holed herself up either at work or behind her locked apartment door until tonight, when Sarah had convinced her to blow off some steam.

The relaxation she'd felt only seconds before evaporated, but didn't clear her mind enough to help her figure out what to do.  She'd had too much to drink.  Her balance wavered and she took an involuntary step backwards to steady herself.  She should reach out, find the lamp or the side of the building and dash for the entrance.  Maybe it wasn't him.  Maybe he wouldn't follow her.

But her body wouldn't comply, and neither would her judgment.  "William?"

There was still no answer.  "Is that you?"  She reached an arm out in front of her, toward the direction the step had come from.  If she touched him she might at least be able to keep him at arm's length.  "What do you want?"

"I don't think that matters."  With the sound of his voice, all the memories came back, jumbled together: William proposing, reading books together by the fire, speaking to each other quietly as they twined their arms and legs together and pushed against each other.  Then came the memory of the pills.  He had hesitated so long, she had been forced to push his hand to his mouth that first time.  After that, the doubt and the guilt had taken hold of her, made it harder and harder to visit him in the hospital.