There, lying in a white hospital bed in the middle of the kitchen, is a woman.
She’s contorted, crippled.
Blind and emaciated.
Hideous.
It’s old Janie.
The young Janie on the couch is gone.
Cabel turns to Janie in the dream. “Help me,” he says.
Janie stares. Gives a slight shake of her head, even though she is compelled to try to help him.
“I can’t.”
“Please, Janie. Help me.”
She looks at him. Speechless. Shudders, and holds back the tears.
Whispers, “Maybe you should just say good-bye.”
Cabel stares at her. And then he turns to the old Janie.
Reaches out with two fingers.
Closes her eyelids.
Janie struggles and pulls out of the dream.
Frozen.
Panting.
The world closing in around her again. She struggles to move. To breathe.
When she is able, Janie stumbles on numb toes across Cabe’s basement floor and up the steps, out the door. Across the yards and to her tiny, stifling prison.
Lies on her side, counting her breaths, making herself feel each one, in and out. Staring at the wall.
Wondering how much longer she can hide it all.
SUNDAY
August 6, 2006, 10:10 a.m.
She stares at the wall.
And pulls herself out of bed to face another day.
Janie finds Dorothea in the kitchen, fixing her mid-morning cocktail. It’s the first time Janie’s seen her since they talked.
“Hey,” Janie says.
Janie’s mother grunts.
It’s like nothing happened.
“Any word on Henry?”
“No.”
“You doing okay?”
Janie’s mother pauses and gives Janie a bleary look. She fakes a smile. “Just fine.”
Janie tries again. “You know my cell phone number is here next to the calendar if you ever need me, right? And Cabel’s is here too. He’ll do anything for you, like, if I’m not around or something.
You know that?”
“He’s that hippie guy?”
“Yeah, Ma.” Janie rolls her eyes. Cabel got his hair cut months ago.
“Cabel—what kind of name is that?”
Janie ignores her. Wishes she hadn’t said anything in the first place.
“You better not get knocked up, alls I can say. A baby ruins your life.” Janie’s mother shuffles off to her bedroom.
Janie stares at her as she goes. Shakes her head. “Hey, thanks a lot,” she calls out. She pulls out her phone and turns it on. There’s a text from Cabel.
Didn’t hear you leave. Where’d you go? Everything okay?
Janie sighs. Texts back. Just woke up early. Had some stuff to take care of.
He replies. You left your shoes here. Want me to bring them, or?
Janie debates. Yeah. Thx.
11:30 a.m.
He’s at the door. “Mind if we go for a ride?”
Janie narrows her eyes. “Where to?”