Lina 6
I…don't…what…happened…but…I’ll…fix…it…promise
It was getting clearer; I could almost decipher full sentences. Sometimes I knew he was talking to me, other times I was pretty sure he was talking to someone else, though it was only ever his voice that I heard. I was beginning to notice a faint accent—not foreign really, but not entirely American, either. As if he had lived somewhere else a long time ago, and America had corrupted the traces of his heritage. The final three days in the hospital were a mixture of heaven and hell. Singer, that was what I’d named the voice, had been coming and going at relatively random intervals. Even when he didn’t say anything, I knew he was there. Some part of me, either my subconscious or my soul, was running on the same wavelength as him. And that something was hooked. When he was around, all I could do was hang on his every word. I was like a junkie, needing fix after fix. The more I heard it, the more I needed it. When he was gone, his absence rang through every fiber of my being. It pined for his return like it fought for air.
My original theory that he was a medic that responded to me was a total bust. I researched all the responding officers. I knew the two cops who’d come, they were friends of Gavin’s and didn’t even remotely fit the bill. After Facebook stalking every other name I could find, it was easy to rule them out as well. This was just the aftermath of my head injury. Or I was losing my mind.
My behavior hadn’t gone unnoticed by Jilsey or Gavin, either. I wasn’t fully aware that I did it, but apparently I completely spaced out at times. My eyes glazed over, and I didn’t respond to any outside commotion. They’ve asked me what I was doing when it happened, but I just told them I didn’t know. The truth would buy me a one-way ticket to the Looney Bin. No, thank you.
Gavin and Jils worked out their schedules so one of them would be home with me at all times, just in case I needed them. In other words, “We don’t trust you to not go to work. Also, your weird catatonic episodes freak us out.” They confiscated my work laptop last night when they caught me checking emails after dinner.
Little did they know, I had my Outlook e-mails forwarded to my cell phone. I’d gotten smarter about it, though. I only checked them while they were in the shower and after I went to bed at night. They also hadn’t taken my project binders from my desk—chances are they had no idea what they were—so I still had those to keep me busy. I might not have been able to work on the excavation project from home, but I could sure as hell keep up on upcoming exhibits and my correspondences.
I’ll…you…please…don’t…afraid…you…meet…trust…hide
"Lina!" Gavin shouted, shaking me a little.
"Hmm? I know, right?" I replied, trying to downplay that I had blanked out for the umpteenth time.
“You were spacing again,” he said, concerned.
“Sorry, I was thinking,” I lied.
After a brief look, Gavin focused his attention back on the TV. His appearance was once again professional: cropped blond hair with the top slightly longer than the rest and a clean-shaven face. The circles under his eyes had faded slightly but were definitely still there. I knew he still wasn’t sleeping; I could hear him outside my bedroom two or three times a night. He never knocked or came in; he just stood outside, the shadows of his feet under the door the only indication he was there at all.
It was my final day of taking it easy. Gavin and Jils had protested, stating that I needed more time to recover. But the good doctor had given me the all clear, and I was going to take it.
Working would actually come as a relief from these past days at home. I couldn’t blame either of them for being worried, but it was getting out of hand. I couldn’t go anywhere alone. I went to the kitchen—my babysitter of the day followed me. I went to my room—they decided the hallway needed vacuuming or the baseboards needed dusting. Gavin even insisted on carrying me up the stairs the first day. It took uncomfortable amounts of begging and whining to get him to let me walk. I was pretty sure he was one step away from making Jilsey sponge bathe me so I wouldn’t slip in the shower.
Unable to sit still, I got up and headed toward the kitchen in search of lunch. The flowers on the island were starting to wilt, the once green leaves a faded brown. Reaching out, I plucked Gavin's note off his vase, sending a few crunchy leaves to the counter, and re-read it. Oasis, Wednesday, 6:30. Gavin hadn't mentioned it at all. Maybe he had changed his mind or was waiting for me to bring it up. If I had to guess, I would say it was the latter.
"You missed our date," he said, strolling into the kitchen and heading straight for the fridge, like that was actually what he’d come in here to do. That was what made him a good cop; everything he did looked natural. I was pretty sure he could put on a dress, and it would look like he’d done it every day of his life.
"Sorry, I was a little preoccupied. You know, what with being unconscious and all," I said. His pained expression urged me to quickly add, "Besides, today is Wednesday, and I never specified which Wednesday. Let me buy you lunch."
"Is this your way of making it up to me or your way of getting out of the house?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back against the fridge.
"Both, of course," I said, voice flirty, hoping it would distract him. Vain hope, but hope, nonetheless.
Gavin twisted his lips in concentration and finally sighed.
"Okay, we can do lunch. I have to stop by the station first though. Go get dressed," he said, smiling at my stunned expression. I really hadn’t expected that to work. I turned and practically skipped up the stairs to my room before he thought better of it and made me stay home. "Wear something practical, it’s still icy!" he yelled after me.
Ten minutes later, I thumped to the bottom of the stairs to find Gavin waiting with my coat in hand. I had opted for a blue sweater, skinny jeans, and the brown Uggs Jilsey had bought me for Christmas.
Disapproval was written all over Gavin’s face.
"What? Should I go change?" I nervously glanced at my reflection in the mirror next to the door.
"I said practical, not cute," he sighed as he helped me into my coat.
"This is practical. I'm wearing boots!"
"Uggs hardly count as boots. They have zero traction," he said, closing the door and locking it, completely ignoring the faux pout I was aiming at him. Gavin ushered me into his car, climbed in, and expertly pulled out of our driveway.
I leaned my head against the cold window, watching the city pass by in a blur. I let my mind wander to Singer; thoughts of him set me on fire from the inside out. I started piecing together the way he looked from my fragmented memories. I remembered he had black hair, and his eyes—I remembered his eyes most of all. They sorta reminded me of the fire opals that I once saw, except for the color. They were dark, yet iridescent.
If it was possible to swoon for someone you’ve technically never met, I was definitely doing it. I felt guilty, though. I was on a date with Gavin, my amazing sort-of boyfriend, and here I was thinking about a guy who I was pretty sure was a figment of my fucked-up imagination.
Before I knew it, Gavin was opening my car door. His forehead creased with concern. Giving him what I hoped was a smile, I took his proffered arm, and we walked toward the door of Oasis.
"Good afternoon, just the two of you?" the waiter asked, eyeing my hand on Gavin's arm.
Clearly, he was surprised to see us without Jils. Apparently, we came here too often, but it was the best Middle Eastern food around, so it wasn’t like we had a choice. When a girl needed falafel, a girl needed falafel.
"Yes, sir, just us two," Gavin replied.
He led us to a table near the back of the restaurant.
"We don’t need menus,” Gavin said, sliding into the booth. “We'll have the Oasis platter, with an order of Spanakopita and Baklava, and two sweet teas."
Nodding, the waiter left us. For being so close to Gavin, this felt extremely awkward. Not first-date awkward but weird all the same. We weren't trying to get to know each other. We were already past that. Fiddling with my napkin, I sneaked a look at Gavin. He seemed completely at ease, leaning back in his chair and staring at me with a look of…I didn’t know what, but I'd never seen that look on his face.
"What?" I asked. My hand went to my throat, reaching for my ring.
Of course, it was still MIA. Gavin had checked the front yard, the museum, and my route home—nothing. Its absence combined with the nagging feeling in my gut had me believing my Singer was real. I could still feel the chain breaking and sliding away from my neck.
I started ripping the napkin into little pieces to keep my hands busy.
"You look so uncomfortable," he said, taking what was left of the napkin from my hand, his fingers lingering a little longer than necessary.
"No, I'm not. I-I'm just, I mean..." I trailed off. I was clearly making a fool out of myself. Gavin just took a sip of his water and continued to smile, as if that was normal behavior for me. "What's so funny, Officer Hollow?"
"It's funny that you are so uncomfortable with me right now, when you woke up this morning sprawled across my half naked body,” he said, pointing out that I had fallen asleep on the couch with him, once again. He hadn’t found it necessary to move me to my room. “Us being together shouldn’t be such a new concept to either of us. God knows I’ve considered it long enough. Haven’t you?”
“Of course, I have. I’ve made it clear how I felt about you for a while,” I told him, unsure how to explain exactly what was wrong with me. “I’m…I don’t know what I am, Gavin. I really don’t.”
"It’s okay, we have time to figure it out. I'll give you a moment to pull that pretty face together and calm down." He rose from his chair and headed toward the bathroom.
Gavin was right. I shouldn't be nervous. Taking a couple of calming breaths, I attempted to center myself by staring out the window, watching as Gavin's windshield was slowly blanketed with the snow that had begun to fall since we’d arrived.
It started subtly, a now-familiar hum surrounding me. The mental radio that carried his voice to me tuned smoothly in my head. I almost didn’t even realize it at first. Slowly, it became clear. There was no static. His voice floated unobstructed through the air toward me, as well as another voice, a woman…
No, a girl, her voice like wind chimes on a summer breeze. It was almost as beautiful as his voice. Almost.
"You shouldn’t be here, Telor," she said in a serious tone despite her cute little southern drawl. She was young. Just by her voice, I guessed eight or nine, maybe ten if I was gonna stretch it.
"I’m leaving, Cheyenne," the voice, presumably Telor, said.
It was amazing to be able to put a name to my Singer. Telor. Telor. Telor. I thought it repeatedly. I wanted to scream it from the rooftops. I wanted to feel it roll off my lips.
"What the hell do you mean you’re leaving?”
“Language!” he scolded in a paternal tone.
“Yeah, yeah, don’t lecture me right now, mister! Answer the question,” she demanded, her tiny little voice raising an octave.
“I mean, I can’t let Tori have her,” he said, his words tight, an underlying pain almost tangible.
“It’s your job. Do you realize what will happen when she doesn’t show up, and you disappear?”
“I’d rather face the consequences of leaving than the ones of staying,” he said. “Tori will come after her, the minute she realizes she hasn’t been delivered. It’s not a matter of if but when.”
“Telor, listen to me,” Cheyenne pleaded, “this is a bad idea.”
I stared straight ahead, my vision blurring, and my breath caught in my throat as figures began to form just inside the window. A tall man about six-foot or so with dark hair and green eyes— no, not green, they were hazel, if anything—wearing dark pants and an untucked white button-up shirt appeared next to a strawberry blond girl with brown eyes who only stood waist high. She had on a yellow sundress despite the cold weather, her soft ringlets bouncing around her chin with the shaking of her head.
I focused on the little girl, Cheyenne. She was adorable, giving Telor a scolding look that was hilarious on her tiny features. I struggled with my mind as they came into view. They were real, or more real than they first seemed. My conviction they were an auditory hallucination started to waver. A small smile crept onto my lips as I turned my attention to Telor.
Even if he hadn’t said anything, I would know immediately that he was my Singer, just by his eyes. The bits my mind had pieced together didn’t do him an ounce of justice. But seeing him in person, only feet away, was indescribable. My body craved to be closer to him. Instinctively, I moved from the chair and toward him.
“Cheyenne, I came here to say goodbye.”
I didn’t even know him and could tell his mind was made up. Every word rang with pure conviction.
“Please, Telor, please?” She was practically begging him not to leave. A panicked thought hit me; what if he was leaving me, too? “She’ll make you pay for this. You can get away with a lot, but not even you will walk away from this.”
My heart pounded wildly in my chest, and I was sure I was seconds away from hyperventilating. The change seemed to alert him to my presence. He took a couple steps away from Cheyenne, toward me, and I froze, not daring to move.
“Catalina, can you hear me?” he asked. I gave a couple brisk nods of my head. “Can you see me?” I nodded once more.
These didn’t seem to be the answers he wanted. He pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes tightly shut before speaking again.
“I’m sorry. It’s best this way,” he said, his voice tight. I didn’t know what he was talking about. What was better this way? He glanced over his shoulder and said, “Cheyenne.”
The tiny little girl looked at him glumly before nodding her head. She approached me. Panicked, I watched Telor, who mouthed I’m sorry as he faded into the background until he was gone.
Cheyenne stopped right in front of me, her expression resigned and sad. “Would you believe me if I told you this was all a dream?”
“Maybe?” I said. I wasn’t sure what to believe at the moment.
“I’m sorry, honey.”
She took a deep breath and blew it hard into my face. It felt like little bits of dust were surrounding my entire head.
“You never saw Telor or me. You never heard him, you don’t know either of us exists.”
“You don’t exist,” I agreed, nodding.
Cheyenne looked behind me, and she chewed her bottom lip with indecision. “Let the cop take you home, enjoy your day. You got up because you thought you saw someone you knew or a dog or whatever in the parking lot. When I leave, you won’t remember either of us. Nod once if you understand.”
I nodded once. Then she was gone. The sudden weight of my body was too much for my legs to bear as they buckled beneath me. Instead of hitting the floor, I fell into well-muscled arms that lowered me down slowly. Blinking rapidly, I looked up at Gavin.
"Lina, can you hear me?" he asked in a gentle tone, touching my cheek with the palm of his hand. What was I doing on the ground? How did I get here? "Lina, can you hear me?" he asked again, his patience waning.
I struggled in Gavin’s arms, trying to get up, but they stayed strong around me.
"Yes, I can hear you. I'm not deaf. Will you let me up now?" I asked, a little more sharply than I should have. I didn’t know where the bad mood had come from. I was hardly ever in a bad mood. Especially ones that came on this suddenly.
"Excuse me?" he asked indignantly. "I came back from the bathroom to see you staring into space, practically zombie-walking across the dining room toward the window. And you expect me to let you up? I don’t think so."
While he turned his attention to our waiter, I tried to make sense of what had just happened. I didn’t remember. That was not good. I couldn’t tell Gavin that I had no idea how I’d gotten to the middle of the dining room. I was looking at something. A person? An animal? I couldn’t grasp the thoughts long enough to distinguish fact or fiction. Gavin pulled me to my feet and wrapped his arm around my waist, securely attaching me to him.
“Can we get that to go?” he asked, as the waiter approached our table with a tray of food. He nodded and headed back to the kitchen. Gavin led me to the hostess stand and sat me down on the bench by the door while he paid for our lunch.
"Why are we leaving?" I whined, perfectly aware of how pathetic it made me look, but it’d barely been twenty minutes since we’d arrived. "I'm sorry I scared you. I thought I saw a dog in the parking lot, and I was just trying to get a better look.” I wasn’t sure if that was a lie or not.
The waiter returned with our food, boxed up and ready to go. Gavin grabbed the bag and ushered me back to his car.
"You saw a dog in the parking lot? Tell me, what color was it? What kind of dog was it?”
That was a good question. There may not have even been a dog. “Umm, it was brown and white and black. Smallish.”
“Bullshit, Lina. Get in the car," he said as he leaned against my door, motioning for me to get in. Reluctantly, I slid into the passenger’s seat, crossing my arms and looking forward, trying my damnedest to ignore him as he got into the driver’s seat. "I have to go drop this paperwork off at the station, and then we can go home and have lunch."
“I want to go back and have lunch at Oasis. I’m sick and tired of being stuck at home. For a thirty-six-hundred-square-foot manor, it gets pretty fucking small when you haven’t left it in three days,” I spat.
His face showed his shock. I never spoke to either him or Jilsey this way. Ever. Sure, I ranted every now and then, but never about them, and surely never with the anger and venom that I’d just thrown at him. Of the three of us, I was the most even tempered. Shaking it off quickly, he said nothing and just continued to drive. I immediately wanted to apologize but thought better of it. While I knew it was crazy, I felt like Gavin was responsible for my bad mood. He hadn’t done anything, but it was easy to blame him since he was here. So, Officer Hollow could stew in the aftereffects of my bitch fit, it’s not like I hadn’t endured enough of his.
Futilely, I reached for my ring. I felt naked without it. I tried hard to remember what had happened to it, a memory flickering. But the more I tried, the further away it felt.
Pulling up outside the police station, Gavin parallel parked at a meter and turned the car off. Twisting in his seat, he stared at me for a moment then sighed, got out of the car, and walked around to open my door. I made no move to budge from my seat. I kept my arms crossed and faced the windshield.
After it was clear I was going to stay in the car, Gavin reached in and unbuckled my seatbelt. After pulling me from the car, he locked it behind me. He was leaving me with the option of sitting outside or going in with him. Reluctantly, I followed him into the building.
"Come on, let’s hurry up. If we're lucky, we can get in and out before the grape leaves get cold." Taking my hand firmly in his, he led me through the glass front doors of Saebo Police Station and then a security door that required a code and his thumb to open. He swung me around the corner and stopped at a desk to sign us in, then led us to an office in the back.
"Morning, Captain," Gavin said, knocking on the open door to get his boss’s attention. "I have the paperwork you said you needed,” he added, as he handed over a manila envelope.
"Thanks, wanna make sure this is in on time, you’re going to make one hell of a de—”
Gavin coughed loudly, interrupting his boss. The captain’s gaze shifted from the packet to me, standing just behind Gavin.
"Ah, I see you brought your little troublemaker with you. How're you feeling, Lina?" he asked, smiling broadly, motioning to the chairs in front of his desk.
"I'm doing wonderful, practically good as new. Gavin and Jilsey have been taking good care of me," I gushed, though I wondered what the captain had been about to say before Gavin gave him that not-so-subtle signal to shut up.
"Good, good," Captain replied, nodding. "I'll tell ya, we were worried about you. I’ve seen Officer Hollow look a little worse for the wear, but when you got hurt...well, it’s about time you two finally figured things out."
His words threw me. I’d realized my accident had been hard on Gavin, but I hadn't realized that people outside our family had noticed. I also hadn’t realized that my and Gavin’s relationship was a topic of interest amongst his co-workers. Though, it was a topic between Seline and me from time to time.
"I’m very lucky. We were actually on our way home for lunch, and I'm afraid we're going to have to chip the frost off our Oasis," I said, rising to my feet and pulling Gavin up by the hand.
"Oh, yes, yes, of course. Don’t let me keep you," he said, waving us away. "I’ll see you tomorrow, Officer.” He nodded to Gavin and then to me. “Take it easy, Lina.”
“Of course, thank you,” I said, yanking Gavin into the hallway.
We were almost out the front doors when I was assaulted, a large body crushing the air out of my lungs. I hit the semi-trucks he called arms repeatedly and gasped for air until put me down gently. Looking up, I saw Scott, Gavin's partner.
"Sorry. I was excited to see you," he said, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Because if I'm seeing you, that means Gavin is coming back to the field with me. The rookie they stuck me with is awful."
"What does seeing me have to do with Gavin coming back to work?" I asked, confused.
"Well, if he's letting you out of the house, surely you’re doing better. Also, he texted me and told me that he's coming back tomorrow," Scott said.
“Oh, well, yeah.” I flailed around with my words, unsure of what to say.
“You guys should come out with Kate and me this weekend,” Scott offered.
The urge to flat out say no was almost too strong to stop. The thought of going out with Gavin and his friend as his girlfriend was not something I looked forward to. What the hell was wrong with me? I’d wanted this, I’d wanted Gavin. I finally had him and I wanted to run? Maybe it was just residual effects of my accident, making me second-guess myself. That was totally it.
“We actually have to go.” Gavin wrapped his arm around my shoulders. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Dude, you just got here!” Scott said. “I haven’t seen you in years. What’s more important than listening to me talk and bitch about people and bitches?”
“She goes back to work tomorrow. This is my last day to spend time with her, so I would like to take full advantage of that,” Gavin replied, steering me toward the door and away from Scott.
"Oh, gotcha, bro. Have fun, you crazy kids," he said, wagging his eyebrows suggestively.