The Birdman Project: Book One by E.L. Giles

Author:E.L. Giles [Giles, E.L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Forever Morris Publishing, LLC
Published: 2020-02-12T06:00:00+00:00

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I wake to the sound of shattering glass. O’Hare stands there, with his tousled hair sticking to his sweaty forehead, and a broken cup of tea is splattered all over the floor at his feet. It makes me think of Andrew back in Kamcala. I still see the files and the tools from the tray all over the floor and Andrew standing among the mess, catatonic, frozen in place. It’s exactly how O’Hare looks right now.

Dolores rushes by him, a cloth in hand, and wipes the tea from the floor. Things still appear strained between them, like they’re each holding a grudge toward the other. Neither of them speak, and neither look at the other. I don’t know what the tension is all about, besides Josh’s absence, and I don’t dare ask.

O’Hare finally thanks Dolores when she has finished cleaning the floor. He then heads to the counter, where he pours more hot tea into a new mug, and leaves the house without another word. He takes the place that Alastair occupied yesterday and starts chopping logs, his cup of tea lying on a flat rock not far from him.

“He’s still not here?” I ask.

From the empty ache in my gut to Dolores’s concerns and the silent screams of his absence, I already know the answer.

She shakes her head and shakes it that way every single day that passes after that. As the days pass, Josh doesn’t show up anywhere except in my thoughts—every single thought. Alastair doesn’t bring any news, and day after day, the house feels emptier and emptier. Dolores’s concern grows, and she and O’Hare barely speak to each other. I wake every morning in Dolores’s arms, hopeful and anxious to see Josh sitting by the kitchen window, but every time I step outside my bedroom, guilt strikes me like the butt of a rifle on my jaw, the pain like an old friend, never leaving me. It feels more like an enemy, to be honest.

And the nightmares are more real than ever. They’ve come back full force since they vanished that night I slept in Dolores’s arms on the red couch. They came back slowly at first, not all at once, slithering like snakes before assaulting and constricting their prey. I’m their prey. And the snakelike nightmares only wait for the moment I feel the weakest, the moment it will hurt the most. I’ve reached the point where I can’t handle them anymore, can’t handle the sight of Josh jumping off the cliff, the handsome boy dying before my helpless eyes, as everyone I’ve ever known does the same.

But this morning, a thought comes to mind and brings with it a sense of relief…as well as an unbearable pain that crushes me under the weight of my desperation.

Maybe Josh is waiting for me to leave before he’ll come back.

I spend time thinking about this, convincing myself that this must be the reason, and now, I am sure of it. I can’t see any other explanation for his absence.

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