Chapter 53: Skylar

What was I afraid I’d find? Release papers from a mental institution? A journal full of paranoid ramblings? I knew I’d come across neither as I snooped through Mitch’s room, yet I snooped anyway, hoping I’d uncover evidence of his good will and sanity. He didn’t own much. Maybe he’d left most of his possessions behind in Santiago. There were three books on his shelf: The Time Machine by H.G. Wells, The Universe in a Single Atom by Dalai Lama XIV, and Religion and Science by Bertrand Russell and Michael Ruse. I was ashamed that I’d read none of them.

His closet held a few flannel shirts on hangers, jeans and sweaters that lay folded along the top shelf, and on the floor was a pair of sneakers, a pair of dress shoes, and some Tevas. His snow boots were missing; he must have been wearing them. I sighed, closed the closet door, and leaned against the wall, scanning this room that used to be mine. A lot of my stuff was still in here, like my high school ski trophies that sat on a high shelf above my old bed, and a bulletin board stuck with note cards on which I’d copied down lines from my favorite novels. One from Jane Eyre caught my eye:

“I can live alone, if self-respect, and circumstances require me so to do. I need not sell my soul to buy bliss.”

I remembered when I copied that one down; it was shortly after Jo Beth had shown me the People magazine with the guy who’d murdered his wife and unborn child. Promise that you won’t fall for the charming, handsome guy, she’d said and I’d made her that promise repeatedly. So, when I saw this declaration of independence in Jane Eyre, I’d believed them to be words I would live by.

Yet Jo Beth had broken her own promise. Now I was finding it more and more difficult to stay true.

My eyes focused on the night stand, which was actually a tiny little dresser with drawers large enough to hold a few sundry items. I went over and pulled open the top one. Inside I found some Carmex, a couple of “Double A” batteries, and a notebook and pen. I leafed through the notebook. It was full of lists.

Places to visit:

Bermuda Triangle

Moscow

The Galapagos

Page after page was like this, each with its own heading, like Things I’m Scared to Try, or Celebrities I Want to Meet. For each heading, there was a list of items, and often there were checks beside them. For example, under Games to Learn to Play, both “chess” and “backgammon” had been checked off. Had learning those two been accomplished? I sat on the edge of the bed and paged through the whole notebook. It must have been very old, because the beginning entries were written in faded ink and in handwriting that looked less mature, more like chicken scratch. The further back I got in the notebook, the more evolved the lists became.

Philosophies to Incorporate into My Daily Life:

Cognitivism

Existentialism

Moral Skepticism

I didn’t know anything about moral skepticism, but if it was what it sounded like, Mitch believed right and wrong were relative. I’d have to look it up later.

One list particularly caught my eye. It was labeled The Biggest, Most Stupid Mistakes I Could Ever Make. There were several reasonable items, like number three: Digging Where There’s Power Lines and number two: Letting Harm Come to Bijou. But when I read number one, Having Sex With Skylar, I felt the wind knocked out of me. Okay, sure, I could see how it would be a bad idea for Mitch and me to hook up. But it would be a worse mistake than hitting a power line or than letting someone hurt his baby daughter? I was offended, but underneath the offense lay the revelation that he thinks about me, that he’s attracted to me.

At the end of the book was a list that began on the last page and worked its way backwards. It was the longest list by far, and unlike the others, it wasn’t labeled. The first item was, “tidal wave in Florida”, and number two was, “red cloud.” Then it went on for a couple of pages, with things like “phantom limb?”, “power outage every time we speak,” and “talking cat.”

Toward the end came Jo Beth’s name. Then it was repeated in item after item:

Jo Beth shows me how to make formula

Jo Beth rides shotgun

Jo Beth threatens me about Skylar

A lava rock formed in my stomach and burned all the way up to my heart. What the hell did any of this mean?

“What are you doing in here, Skylar?”

I dropped the notebook and jolted up, breathless with guilt. “Mitch!” I paused to hyperventilate and he just stared at me. Was that malevolence in his eyes, or betrayal? “I…” I stammered. “Where are Magda and Bijou?”

He leaned against the door frame casually, like he was waiting in line for something. “I dropped Bijou off at your Mom’s. Magda went back.”

“Went back where?”

“To Florida.”

His face was impassive, occupied by two huge brown eyes that refused to blink. I couldn’t read his emotions, so I had no idea how to proceed. Before I figured it out, he came towards me, picked up the notebook, and looked at the last page I’d been reading. I stood there feeling the weight of his written words, wondering if maybe I wasn’t so culpable for having read them. Perhaps it was something I ought to have done a while ago.

“What’s that about?” I asked.

He tossed the notebook onto his bed and stood so close to me that it became hard for us not to breathe in the same rhythm. “I like to make lists,” he whispered.

“Yeah, I get that. But I don’t understand the ones about Jo Beth. And why would she threaten you about me?”

He squeezed his eyes shut. “The last list in the book is about dreams I’ve had.” Speaking seemed to cause him physical pain. “I dream about Jo Beth a lot, and in one dream, she told me to stay away from you.”

His eyes were still closed and he looked so innocent that I just couldn’t be scared. Instead, all I wanted was to ease his pain. I cupped his cheek with my hand and his eyes shot open. The air between us was warm and cold at once, like the tugging that could produce a tornado. “Why?”

“Why, what?” he asked.

“Why did Jo Beth tell you to stay away from me?”

He tilted his head down and pressed his forehead to mine. “It was just a dream, Skylar.”

Our lips weren’t touching, but God, did they want to be. I put my arms around his shoulders. He put his arms around my waist, circling me and holding me close. “Have you had any other dreams about me, Mitch?”

“All the time.”

“Me too.”

Then, finally, he kissed me with such concentration that my entire body heated with desire. His chest crushed against mine and it was entirely different than what I’d felt with Gavin or even with Frank. This was a hunger that could never be satiated, yet his kiss fulfilled me all the same.

But as quickly as it began, it ended when he abruptly dropped his arms to his sides and stepped back. That made me feel like I’d been plucked from my warm bed and thrown outside into a cold, cold night.

“No,” he struggled to say. “This can’t happen.” He ran his hand through his hair, obviously trying to slow his breathing. One glance down at his crotch and I knew he was as aroused as I was, maybe even more.

“I understand,” I said. I started to back out of the room.

“Sky?”

Mitch was sitting on the edge of the bed, right where I had sat only moments ago, when I’d invaded his privacy.

“Yeah?”

He took a sharp inhale. “I’m sorry.”