I Should Be Dead

     I drove for some time, so I stopped a few times to change the air for my luggage. I definitely didn't want them dying back there - not after all the hard work I put into getting them. I smiled as I remembered my "hard work." Jesus, I was so smart, so careful and so clever. Scott was lucky to have me. "Lucky!" I told the road ahead. And I'd have him lick his wife off me tonight. My smile was practically permanent for the whole drive. I parked by the outbuilding that sat over the entrance to Sister Location, and pulled my chest out of the trunk. It was heavy, but I'm part machine. I set it by the door, and got back in my car. I backed up far enough that I could just see - I was pretending to be Father, and I didn't need anyone to know it was me doing this drop off. Then five minutes later, right at four, the door opened, and two guys came out to bring the chest inside. I cackled, and when the door closed, I drove away. Home!!! I still had to make a call. 

     I flew down the highway at an inhuman speed, and used my animatronics to watch a road a human couldn't have. We got home in half the time it took to get to Sister Location, and I sped inside to grab the phone. It was five thirty. 

     Jeremy answered, and in Linda's voice, I asked for Scott. 

     "Hello, hello? Linda?"

     "Scott," as my head shouted, Scott! and I sighed loudly. "I need to tell you something. This is the hardest thing I've ever done. I'm so sorry."

     "Linda! What's wrong?"

     "Scott. I'm leaving. We're leaving."

     "What? What are you talking about? You want to go back to Milwaukee?"

     "We already have. Amy and I are going to stay here with Mom and Dad for a while." Silence from the other end. "I really need to sort some things out. Don't call. I'll call you in a few days, when I know what's going on. But until then, Scott, please just leave us alone."

     There was a choking on the other end, and I knew he was crying. Poor Scott. Come to me, and I'll make it all better. "Scott? Do you understand?"

     "No! How could I understand? What are you doing?"

     "I just need a break. Ok? Just a little break. I'll call you in a couple days."

     "Can I talk to Amy?"

     "Ummmm....maybe..... No, no, I really don't have time for that right now. I have to go. And don't call me. I feel so smothered by you right now. Like I can't breath. Good bye, Scott."

     "Oh..." and I hung up. I was so pleased with myself that my eyes were lighting a room already bathed in sunlight. Now to wait for my delivery. We sat back at the piano, and played lightly, finding happy tunes to kill the time until he would come. 

     By seven, I started to worry, and they began to make grumbling noises from inside. They had put a lot of effort into not killing the little girl, and they weren't happy about that. I should have killed something before coming home. Or after calling Scott. But I thought he could come straight over, and I should be ready. You lied. "I didn't! He'll come. We can wait just a little longer." I put more effort into the keys in an attempt to quell their impatience. "Soon." 

     He finally came, an hour later, an hour of anxiety that made my fingers stumble and hesitate, resulting in some butchered tunes that eased no one. The doorbell rang out, and we all jumped up, we all ran to the door, but I made us become still before I opened the door, with my best grin as greeting.

     "Scott!" Then I let my grin slip in empathy. "What's wrong? Come in."

     "LInda left me," he barely said; it was more of a mouthing of the words. But even if I didn't know what he would say, I would have heard it. 

     "That's impossible."

     "I know." I pulled him in and guided him to the couch in the living room, then sat beside him. His pain was dripping from him. "Why would she do this? It doesn't make any sense."

     He'd been crying since the phone call. I pulled him to me, and placed his head on my shoulder, then stroked his crow's nest of hair. He was a mess. "She'll come around, Scott. Maybe she just needs a few days. You'll see. You're her husband, you're the father of her child. She just needs to sort some things out in her head, and she'll be back in no time." He shook his head, but said nothing. "Think of it as a break for you, too. I promise you, she'll come back when she's ready. She loves you. Amy loves you, and they'll be back."

     He nodded at that, and sighed heavily. "Thanks Vincent. That sounds real sensible. I bet she will come back. Maybe she was just homesick." That's the spirit. "I'm sorry I came here like this."

     I widened my eyes and protested that this was the one place he should come to, and offered him some tea. When I brought it to him, he was looking around the room as though he were finally in it, now, and not in his head. He smiled warmly at me, and accepted the cup. I sat beside him again, and put my own cup on the table beside me. Then I put my arm around his shoulder. When he put the cup down, I pulled him to me, and placed a hand on his cheek, tracing along his jaw, and curved my lips a little. "Besides all that, this gives us more time together." I moved in for the kill, aiming for his mouth, and he jumped up from the couch. 

     "I have to go. I really shouldn't have come here. I'm sorry." 

     "What?" 

     "Good night, Vincent." 

     "What?" Stop him! I followed him to the hall in confusion and panic, and a cacophony of anger rose up inside. It was so hard to contain it. "Scott! Wait, stay!" Don't let him leave! I beat him to the door, and stood between it and him. "Scott! You misunderstood me."

     "I really just need to go home now." You promised us! You lied! I shook my head, I need you all to shut up and let me think. 

     "Scott, you really shouldn't be alone right now. And you shouldn't be alone in that home, either. It would be too painful, don't you think? I can go with you, if you want. If you really need to be there, then I'll go with you. Or you could stay here. It'll kill me to think of you by yourself tonight." He gave a small sad smile, and studied me, as if looking for the truth in what I said. I jumped on his hesitation. "I'll get my keys."