I followed them both to the back of the house, trying to push the memories away as I only let myself glance at the patio furniture and beach view. Though it hadn’t been that long, it seemed like ages ago when I was last here, believing the only thing that was wrong was my own inhibitions.
Lance and Redeye went up to the sliding glass door that led into the house. They pressed against the glass, lifted it up to disengage the door from the track at the bottom, and slid it to one side. They made it look easy, and I considered making a comment about their breaking-and-entering skills but decided against it.
“Mo and Lo had to work the football game today,” Redeye said, “or they’d be here, too. They’ll come by when the game is over. They’re real anxious to see you.”
“Football game?” I asked.
“Yeah, they have a security business. I thought you knew that.”
“I guess I did.” However, I hadn’t thought of their jobs as something that would involve football games. I pictured them in the back room of a seedy bar, standing behind Aiden and protecting him from any drug deals that might go bad. Checking backpacks for unauthorized beer didn’t fit the impression I had at all.
Lance walked in first, heading straight for the little hallway off the living room. He came back a moment later and pointed over his shoulder with his thumb.
“He’s still in there.”
“Is he okay?” Redeye asked.
“As good as he was the last time.”
Redeye let out a long breath.
“I guess this is where you come in,” he said to me. “We’ll stay out on the patio. Holler if you need us.”
He placed his hand on my shoulder and gave it a squeeze.
“Good luck,” he added.
I nodded and walked into the house, maneuvering past the boxes in the living room and then into the hall. I glanced into the weight room and bathroom as I went by, but all was quiet in there. The last door was open this time, and I could see a patch of sunlight in the doorway. I peeked my head around slowly, peering inside.
The scene before me wasn’t unlike the image I already had in my head.
Aiden was up against the wall in the far corner of the room, surrounded by boxes and a few empty beer bottles. His beard, usually meticulously trimmed to the same length as his hair, was scraggly and reached down his neck. He sat just beneath the window with his knees drawn up to his chest and his head resting against the drywall, staring straight ahead. There was a plush horse in his hand.
He didn’t look up. As far as I knew, he had no idea I was even there.
I took a few steps into the room and then stopped.
“Aiden?”
He didn’t move.
“Aiden?” I said again.
He moved his head slightly and shifted his gaze from the space in front of him to his hands. I watched him for a moment before speaking again.
“Will you talk to me?” I asked. “Everyone is really worried about you.”
He closed his eyes and then opened them again as he looked at me blankly. I watched him wet his lips with his tongue before he looked back to the stuffed horse.
“Trying to figure out if you are actually here,” Aiden said in a raspy voice, “or if I’ve totally lost it.”
He continued to look at the horse in his hand.
“I’m here,” I told him.
“Why?” he asked.
“Redeye called me. He said…well, he said you weren’t doing too well.”