Andrew Klavan - The last thing I remember

I shook my head a little, confused. “What people? Who? Who are you talking to?”

“Well…” His mouth moved as if he wanted to say more, but no words came out. “Just people, that’s all. I mean, you listen to people, right? You’re always telling me what your dad says, or what your minister says, or… Sensei Mike-man, you never stop talking about him.”

“Okay, sure,” I said. “I mean, you gotta find people in the world you trust, right? People who know more than you and will tell it to you straight and help you out. What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing! Nothing! That’s just what I’m talking about. That’s just what I’m saying: maybe I have people in my life who see through all this stuff, you know?”

“All this…?”

“All this rah-rah for God and school and home and America. Maybe I have people I trust who know better than all that.”

I let out a long breath. I ran my hand up through my hair. Man, poor Alex, I was thinking. He is way messed up. Way.

“All right,” I said-trying not to sound like I was arguing with him, keeping my voice really quiet. “Look. I’m not gonna tell you I know what you’re going through.”

“You don’t!”

“You’re right,” I said. “I don’t. And maybe you’re even right about things being easy for me. I mean, I’ve got my problems like everybody, but at least my mom and dad are at home and I’m not worrying about where I’ll live and all that…”

“Right!” Alex drove his fist down onto his knee. “Right.”

“But look at it from the other direction, okay? Maybe with you being upset about things and all…”

“I’m not upset,” he said, upset.

“All right, all right. But maybe, with the way your life is going right now and the way you’re feeling about things-maybe you’re not thinking so clearly. You ever consider that? I mean, like, maybe you’re so ticked off about everything that you’re not picking your friends too well right now. You see what I mean?”

He didn’t answer. He sat in the dark looking down at his lap, shaking his head back and forth, shaking and shaking it as if he didn’t want to hear me out.

“I mean…” I looked around for an example to explain what I was trying to say. “What if you lost a ball game, right? A really big game, you know, so you felt really bad. And you’re sitting there on the bench with your head hanging down to your knees, right? And people start coming up to you and saying things like, What’re you playing this stupid game for anyway? Look how bad it makes you feel. Just give it up, man, you know. All that working out and training-you don’t need that stuff. You could just go to the mall and have a beer instead. It’s just a dumb game anyway, right? And so on, like that. Those people saying that stuff-would they be your friends, Alex? Would they be your real friends? Or is your friend the coach-you know, like, even big dumb Coach Friedman-who’d come over and say to you, Hey, I know how tough that was. I been there, but now you gotta work out even more and train even harder and become even better so you’re ready to try again.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Alex just went on shaking and shaking his head. His voice was a low growl. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I sighed. “Look-I’m not saying I know. I’m just trying to figure out what makes sense. I mean, your folks broke up-that happens to a lot of people.”

“That doesn’t make it any better. People keep saying that. That doesn’t make it better.”

“I know. But here you are, you’re feeling really bad, you’re feeling down, and I’m asking you: Who’re your friends now, Alex? Are they these people who are saying to you, Hey, things are going bad and you feel bad so you should give up on everything you know is good and true? Or is your real friend that other voice that’s, like, talking inside you…”

“Shut up!”

It was like a punch the way he said it. The way he turned to me suddenly with his eyes so bright and furious that they seemed to glow in the dark of the car. It was the tears that made his eyes look like that. The tears in his eyes caught the glow of a streetlamp and reflected it at me.

Alex sneered. “What do you know about what’s going on inside me? There’s no voice inside me. There’s nothing! There’s nobody! That’s the whole point.”

I reached over to give him a friendly punch in the shoulder. “Man…”

“No!” He slapped my hand away. “I’ve had enough of all these… lies! Don’t give up! Trust in God! Get up and try again! What for? Why is it all on me? I didn’t do anything. I didn’t leave anybody.”

“Nobody’s blaming you. I’m just saying…”

“I know what you’re saying! I know what everybody’s saying!” He was really yelling now, really loud. A woman walking her dog on the opposite sidewalk actually turned and looked our way-that’s how loud he was yelling. “And I’m sick of it! You understand me? You and Beth and my father and everybody! I’m just sick of all of you!”

“Come on, man, chill out…”

He shoved me-hard-hit me in the shoulder with his open hand. He let out an ugly curse and pushed the door open. He was so furious it took him three tries to get the handle working, and then he kicked it in a rage. He jumped out of the car. He started stalking away from me into the park.

I climbed out of the driver’s seat.

“Hey, Alex, come on…”

By the time I came around the hood, he was already striding across the grass, his figure getting dimmer and dimmer as the darkness of the park closed over him.

“Alex!” I shouted.

I ran a few steps after him into that darkness. I guess he heard me coming because he wheeled around. He pointed his finger at me. “Just stay away from me!” he shouted. “You’re not the only one who knows how to fight! Next time I won’t be so easy on you!”

Then he turned and started jogging away from me toward the tennis courts.

What could I do? I stood where I was and watched him go.

The Cave

I opened my eyes and a jolt of terror shot through me. I couldn’t see. Where was I? What was happening?

I had fallen asleep-I had no idea for how long. And when I came to-before I remembered where I was or even who I was-I could see nothing, absolutely nothing. It was as if I had gone blind.

Then I remembered. The torture room. My escape from the compound. The woods. The cave.

I was still in the cave. I had escaped the guards and fallen deeper underground. That’s why I couldn’t see, why the darkness around me was so complete.

As soon as it came back to me, the terror I felt was replaced by another kind of fear-a low, pervasive, sickening despair. How was I going to get out of here? What was I going to do now?

I sat up slowly. It hurt. Oh yeah, I remembered the pain too. The cuts and sores and bruises all over me, the ache all through me. Swallowing hard, I passed my hands over myself, checking the damage. I felt sore spots and frightening damp patches that might have been blood. But at least it didn’t seem as if anything was broken.

My hand stopped at my belt when I felt the gun. Now I remembered that too.

I reached down and felt the space around me. Stone: slick, cold, and damp. I moved my hand and felt a small puddle of water. I scooped some up and splashed it into my mouth. It tasted metallic, but it eased my thirst.

I reached out until I felt a wall of stone. Slowly, holding on to the wall, I stood up. I felt wobbly. My legs felt weak. I leaned against the wall.

Now what? I was afraid to move. It was so utterly, so completely dark, there could’ve been an open pit in front of me and I never would’ve seen it. I could’ve taken one step and dropped into nothingness, a longer fall this time that would’ve really busted me to pieces. I could see myself lying broken and immobile in the blackness with no one to hear me screaming for help.