When she can see, she stares in the dark at the ceiling while Cabe tosses and turns. She slides her arm over her eyes, trying to forget. Trying to pretend like this hasn’t been happening for two months straight, on top of everything else. “Please stop,” she whispers. “Please.”
4:23 a.m.
He dreams and she is forced awake again.
She holds her head.
Janie and Cabel are in the backyard of Cabe’s house, sitting in the green grass. Janie’s arms end at the elbows. Her eyes are sewn shut, needles still connected and hanging from the thread, down her cheeks. Black tears.
Cabel is frantic. He pulls an ear of corn from a paper grocery bag and strips the silk away.
Attaches it to one of Janie’s elbows. He plucks two marbles from the paper bag. Big brown
Tiger’s Eye shooters. He pushes them into Janie’s sewn-up eyelids, pushes hard, but they won’t stick. Janie falls over backward like a rag doll, unable to catch herself without hands. The ear of corn breaks off her elbow and rolls away. Cabe cradles the Tiger’s Eye marbles in his hands.
Janie, numb, can’t watch anymore. And she won’t try to change it. Not a dream like that.
Because it’s about her, and how Cabe is dealing with things. It feels completely wrong to manipulate that. She just hopes he never asks her to help.
Still, she doesn’t want him dreaming it, period. Not any of it. She kicks out her leg. Connects.
Everything goes black.
“Sorry,” he mumbles. Goes back to sleep.
It’s been like this.
It’s like everything he can’t say comes out in his dreams.
9:20 a.m.
Familiar stirrings put an end to dreams. A welcome relief. Janie rests on her couch half-asleep.
Talking herself back up. Back to normalcy. She puts on her facade.
Until she can figure out what to do about it.
About life.
About him.
9:33 a.m.
She hears the lawn chair creak, and then feels Cabel snuggling up behind her on the sofa. She stiffens, just a little. Just for a second. Then takes a deep breath. He slips his warm fingers under her cami and slides them across her belly. She smiles and relaxes, eyes still closed. “You’re going to get us in trouble,” she says. “You know your brother’s rules.”
“I’m on top of the blanket. You’re under it. They’ll be okay with that. Besides, I’m not doing anything.” He strokes her skin, kisses her shoulder. Slips his fingers under the waistband of her jammie pants.
“Dude.” Janie links her fingers in his. “Nope,” she calls out, in case Charlie and Megan are paying attention. “Nothing happening over here.” She murmurs to Cabel, “You’re making breakfast. Right?”
“Right. I’m starting the fire with my mind, frying bacon with my darkest, crispiest thoughts. And you thought you had a special ability. Think again, missypants.”
Janie laughs, but it comes out strained. “Did you sleep okay?”
“Yeah.” His chin scratches her shoulder. “Well, as good as anybody can sleep on weaved strips of fibrous plastic and a metal rod riding his ass.” He nips her earlobe and adds, “Why? Did I have a nightmare? You always make me nervous when you ask that.”
“Shh,” Janie says. “Go make me some bacon.”
He’s quiet for a moment, and then he gets up. Slips into his jeans. “Okay, then.”
9:58 a.m.
They do vacationy things. Sitting around with Charlie and Megan, drinking coffee, making breakfast over the campfire. Relaxing. Getting to know one another better.
Janie’s distracted.
She stares at everything, afraid she’ll miss something that needs to be seen before it’s too late.
She really doesn’t know how to do vacations.
Besides, some stuff you just can’t get away from.
But she’s brave. Everything appears normal. Even though inside, she’s wrecked.
It’s been a tough few months.
Facing them—Doc, Happy, and Dumbass—was way more difficult than she thought it would be.
Reliving all the lies. The setup. The assaults. All the things those teachers did. It was horrible.
Now it’s over, the buzz has died down, but things are still hard. Getting on track again, and facing the reality of a blind and crippled future—it’s hard. Having a mother who’s a drunk is hard too.
Thinking about college, where sleeping people are everywhere . . . and a boyfriend, whose doubts and fears only come out in his dreams. Life in general . . . yeah. All of it.
Really.
Fucking.
Hard.
Janie and Cabe do the dishes together. Cabel washes, Janie dries. It feels so homey. She grips a plate tightly, wiping it with the towel. Thinking.
Wants to know if he’ll voice his dream fears.
And so she blurts it out. “Do you ever think about what it’ll be like? You know, if we stick together, and me all blind and hobbling around, dropping and breaking dishes ’cause I can’t hold on to them. . . .” She puts the plate in the cupboard.
Cabel flicks his fingers at her, spraying her with water. Grinning. “Sure. I think I’m pretty lucky. I bet blind people have great sex. I’ll even wear a blindfold so it’s fair.” He bumps his hips lightly against hers. She doesn’t laugh. She steadies herself and then grabs a stainless steel skillet by the handle and starts drying it. Stares at her contorted reflection in it.