Dave Zeltserman - Bad Thoughts

He got out of bed and went to the kitchen and found a pack of cigarettes. He sat and lit one after the other, inhaling the smoke deeply into his lungs. A half hour later the pack was nothing but ashes and burnt-out stubs. Shannon sat for a little longer and then went back to bed.

Come on, close those eyes. Let the Sandman come and put dust in those black holes of yours. I got a lot to tell you and I’m getting sick of waiting. More sick than you could ever imagine. And I don’t know how much longer I can stay out. It’s four-thirty already. The night’s fading away.

Of course, waiting’s not easy. It’s damn hard. Everything moving at such an accelerated pace. It’s a bitch to stay anchored in any one spot for too long. So close them, pal, there’s so much I need to tell you and I need to tell you tonight. All about Phyllis Roberson, about how much fun I had with her. I don’t know how much longer I got and the last thing I want to do is watch you lying there, too scared shitless to sleep. Well, that’s not quite true. It’s rewarding in a way, but it’s not what I’m here for.

Goddamn it… losing my anchor… don’t worry, pal, I’ll be back… you can’t keep a good man down for long. Bet on it.

It’s always kind of weird when you lose your anchor. It’s what happens, though, when you wait too long in any one spot. Oh, man, what a wasted night.

Early on I tried to find Phyllis, see if I could put the fear of God in her, so to speak. A lot of times if you catch them early enough, before they get a chance to get acclimated, you can really have a lot of fun. Get to them before they have their sense of bearing. Well, I didn’t quite make it. She had a crowd around her, guiding her, explaining the ropes and all the rest. Oh well, you get your kicks when you can.

And now this. You’re ruining my plans for the night, man. It’s not good, but I guess it really doesn’t matter. I’ll be back. We’ll talk. Only a matter of time…

See ya, Billy Boy.

When the alarm went off Susie stirred slowly, eventually pushing herself out of bed and stumbling to the clock to shut it off. After killing the noise she stood for a moment rubbing her face before turning back towards the bed. Shannon was lying on his back, his eyes wide open, his face drawn in an grim expressionless stare.

“Sleep okay?” she asked.

He didn’t answer, his eyes glazed and motionless, his body as still as a corpse’s.

Susie began to lose patience. “What’s so interesting up there?”

No answer. No movement, nothing. Was he even breathing? A quick panic overtook her as she ran to him and put her ear against his chest. The skin felt warm. She held her breath and could hear his heart beating. As she pulled away from him she could see his eyes focusing on her.

“Damn you,” she swore at him as she choked back a rush of tears. “Damn you! I thought you were supposed to be getting better!”

He looked at her blankly before rolling his eyes back towards the ceiling.

She stood frozen, staring down at him. An angry, painful sob convulsed through her body. “Weren’t you supposed to be all cured? Isn’t that what your therapist has been telling you?” she asked, her face turning a hard white. When Shannon remained mute in response, she exploded, “Answer me! Are you even in there?”

“Where else would I be?” he said after a while.

She opened her mouth, closed it, and fled to the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. She stood frozen in front of the mirror and then started to sob uncontrollably. When she saw him lying like that, all she could think of was that he was dead. At least at first. After she realized he had just sunk deeper into his sickness, a hot anger had overwhelmed her, and if she were completely honest with herself she’d admit it wasn’t just anger. When she first heard his heart beating there was something else. Something close to disappointment.

She stayed in the bathroom a long time. First, moving under the shower and turning the hot water on full until it was steaming. Standing there was therapeutic; the hot water calming her, dulling her senses, quieting her mind. After ending the shower, she slowly, methodically dried herself and then stood in front of the mirror and even more methodically applied makeup. By the time she was done it was almost impossible to detect the redness around her eyes.

“Still breathing?” she asked as she left the bathroom. Shannon didn’t answer, but his head tilted towards her.

She dressed quickly, quietly. When she was done she asked if he wanted any breakfast. Shannon shook his head.

“Are you going to be okay?”

“I’ll be okay,” he murmured. “I just need some time.”

“Well, you’ll get that, won’t you?”

No answer.

“What’s going on? Can you tell me that?”

“I really don’t know.” He tried to smile at her.

“Can you at least guess?”

He shrugged, moving his shoulders up and down as much as an inch.

“So it’s going to be like all those other years all over again,” Susie said after a long pause, an angry harshness edging into her voice.

Shannon let his eyes close and placed a hand over them. “It’s not going to be like that. This year’s going to be different. I’ve already gone further than I ever have before.”

As soon as Shannon said it, he felt the little strength he had left ebb away from him. Susie had become very quiet, very still, as she stared at him. After a long while she asked him what he meant by going further than in the past.

“I don’t know,” he said.

“Of course you do,” she said, shrewdly, her voice as brittle as sandstone. “I want you to tell me what’s behind all this.”

“I don’t know.”

“You’re lying,” she stated softly. “And I’m sick of it.” Her bottom lip started to quiver. She bit down on it, turned and left the room. A minute later, Shannon could hear the door to their apartment open and close. Then he could hear the lock turn.

Around ten in the morning Joe DiGrazia called, leaving a message on the machine that he was just checking up on his asshole partner. Eleven o’clock DiGrazia called again and left another message.

A half hour later Shannon could hear a key turning in the front door, and then DiGrazia’s low, guttural voice calling out. Then, his partner’s heavy footsteps along the hallway floor.

There was a hard rap on the bedroom door and DiGrazia peered in, his granite-block face a bit exasperated.

“This is breaking and entering,” Shannon said.

“Not really,” DiGrazia explained as he walked into the room and pulled a chair up to the bed. “Susie called earlier and invited me over. She said you weren’t doing too well. She’s afraid you’re about to slip over the edge.”

“Especially with her pushing.”

“That’s a pretty shitty thing to say,” DiGrazia said. “You’re a lucky man to have a wife like that. Not only is she a sweetheart but she’s as beautiful as all hell. Why the fuck she cares about you, God only knows.” He gave Shannon a hard look. “Pal, you are more than lucky. I’ll tell you, it would be a real shame if you lost something that good.”

Shannon looked up but couldn’t read anything in his partner’s expression. “Am I about to lose something?”

“It could happen. Everyone’s got their limit, buddy boy. I know I’ve already reached mine.” DiGrazia let a sympathetic smile crack his face. “You really do look like hell,” he said. “It’s getting close to lunchtime. Why don’t you get up and take a shower and shave. We’ll go get something to eat.”

Shannon declined, shaking his head slightly. He hadn’t eaten anything yet that day or the day before, but he didn’t want any food. What he wanted was a drink. Several of them. The impulse had been gnawing away at him all morning, working its way into his bones and into his blood. He wanted a bottle, bad. All he could think about was getting one, which was why he knew he had to stay in bed.