"Why you come?" she followed quickly.
"You know why." I said.
She continued to stare. I fought down a scream and continued up the stairway, fleeing from her. Maybe I shouldn't wait until tomorrow morning. I thought. Maybe I should have Harley take me to the airport on his motorcycle or get myself a taxi. I sat on the bed, thinking about it. Would it be right to just leave him behind in all this though? I wondered. Later, would he be and that I had left without telling him about my discoveries?
My mind was in such turmoil. I didn't know whether it was that or the pain radiating up my leg from my ankle that made me feel as nauseous and dizzy as I was. I had to lie back. Through the floor. I could hear the murmur of Suze's chanting. I imagined it came from her holy room.
How was I supposed to fall asleep with all this going on anyway? I should have remained downstairs with Harley.
I closed my eyes and tried to think what Mommy would do. She wouldn't leave without telling Harley everything. I decided. She would say the truth might be a hard thing to swallow, but swallow you must if you wanted to be free of deception, especially when the person you're deceiving is you, yourself.
"I've got to tell him," I muttered to myself. "I've got to."
Why were my eyelids so heavy? I fought to keep them open. I wanted to hear Harley come up the stairs and call him to my room as soon as I had. I would stay fully dressed and wait. I thought.
I'll just rest a little, but I'll continue to listen for him. I did try to stay awake, but I was like a mountain climber on a hill of pure ice, my feet slipping until I lost my hold completely and slid rapidly down, down into the darkness of a tunnel that dropped me into a pool of nightmares.
Suze's face oozed out of the blackness. Her eyes glittered like tinfoil, the ebony pupils spinning and spinning until tiny drills extended toward me. I heard myself scream and she popped like a soap bubble, only to be replaced by that horrible rat in the holy room. Its body swelled until its head receded under the folds of gray and it turned into a dark gray ball that began to roll toward me.
I felt myself running, limping as my foot touched the around and the pain was triggered, shooting darts up inside my leg, darts that entered my stomach. I groaned. The ground beneath me turned into softer and softer mud. I sank deeper and deeper until I disappeared, gagging as the muck sank into my mouth and then my nose.
My eyes snapped open. I looked about quickly. Was I awake or still in my nightmares? I held my breath and listened. There was no more chanting. It was very quiet and very dark. I glanced at my watch in the soft shaft of moonlight now coming through the window and saw I had been sleeping for hours. Oh no. I thought, Harley has already gone to bed. I was in too deep of a sleep to have heard him.
I sat up, feeling just horrible. My lower back ached, my leg felt like it had gone numb from the pain and my stomach continued to rumble. Why had I eaten Suze's rich food? I found my crutch and rose. There was no light on in the hallway, but my eyes were used to the darkness enough for me to safely make my way to the bathroom.
Afterward. I felt weaker and sicker. I thought I was going to vomit, too. but I held it down and returned to my room. I lay there, curled up, moaning softly and chastising myself for having been so stupid. Once I had learned about the lies. I should have screamed them aloud and not permitted this madness to continue. Who knew what else that woman had put into my food?
I was hoping Harley had heard me moving about and would come to see how I was, but he must have fallen into so deep a sleep that he could hear nothing. Perhaps his grandfather had given him more beer to drink and maybe he had drunk too much.
I couldn't fall asleep again. I was worried I wouldn't have an opportunity in the morning to tell Harley what I had discovered. I hated my stomach for still being in such turmoil. Every time I tried to sit up, a ribbon of pain snapped across it and around my sides, down my back. Sometimes, it took my breath away. There was nothing to do but rest and wait for it all to pass.
Seconds became minutes: minutes became hours. Despite my fears. I fell asleep for a while and woke with a shudder. Carefully. I lifted my head from the pillow and edged myself into a sitting position. My stomach was still sore, but at least it wasn't forecasting storm after storm of pain anymore. Blinking my eyes and trying to pull myself back into focus. I lowered my feet to the floor, grabbed my crutch and started out again. I tried to be as quiet as I could in the hallway.
Harley's door was closed. I opened it slowly and peered in to see his head on the pillow, bathed in the soft moonlight. He looked so contented, perhaps sleeping comfortably for the first time in a long time. I thought I even detected a tiny smile on his lips and imagined he was dreaming about all the things he would be doing in the days to come with the man he thought was his real father. Just for a moment it made me hesitant. I knew that often the person bringing bad news is hated as much as the news. but I wasn't the one doing the terrible wrong thing here.
If his grandfather really did care for him, he wouldn't be layering one coat of lies over another, dipping his paintbrush into a can of illusion and smearing gobs and gobs of deception over Harley in hopes he would never know the truth. I didn't care what his reasons were, even if they were noble. If I had learned anything from my parents and the stories Mommy had told me about her troubled childhood, it was that lies have a way of spinning out of control and weaving a web of confusion and pain so tightly around you that it would take forever sometimes to break free.
I moved quickly to his bedside and touched his shoulder. He moaned, but his eyes didn't open.
"Harley," I whispered. "Harley." I shook his shoulder harder this time and his eyes snapped open.
"Whaaa? What?" He turned toward me. "Summer! What's wrong?
"
"Everything." I said.
"You're feeling bad?"
"Yes, but that's not half of what's wrong."
I heard what sounded like a loud creak, the kind of noise you might hear if someone was tiptoeing in the hallway.
"What?" he asked louder.
"Wait," I whispered and listened hard.
"Summer, what are you doing?" Harley questioned, sitting up quickly.