Page 28 of Stalked By Shadows

The walk to Lukas’ place took an hour because I got lost three times. Stupid Quarter all looked the same. I thought hard while I walked of a thousand things to say, or other work options, maybe I’d go home. Mom and dad still lived in the same house I grew up in. Mom loved the neighborhood, but worked long shifts as a nurse and was rarely home. Dad had trouble keeping a job, not because he wasn’t a hard worker, but because the world was rigged against men of color, and he’d never gone to college. My mom hadn’t cared. As kids we never cared. It wasn’t until we hit our teens that the world opened our eyes to how narrow it was. He had been a mechanic for a few years until degrees and computers ousted him, now he mostly worked minimum wage retail.

Lukas and I had been lucky to be born white enough to pass. Outside of our hometown we could take advantage of that privilege. If I went back, I’d fall right back into the cesspool of hate that had me joining the army as soon as I was old enough in order to escape it. And look where that had taken me.

I’d been homeless two months after getting out of the army before a flashback had landed me in the psych ward. Two months on the street had been hell. The gnawing hunger in my gut. Constant fear that someone would steal the little I had, begging for scraps from strangers, and battling the demons in my head left me broken. It was hard to believe I’d been out almost a year. Free from the horror, back in the world with the knowledge to build a bomb or slaughter a group of teenage boys indoctrinated to murder, but couldn’t get a job running a register or waiting tables. No skills, they told me, even after Lukas had given me an address and clothing so I didn’t look like a hobo.

And didn’t that all just burn. Pride. Wow. Something else I’d thought I’d lost in that desert. Only there it was, rearing its ugly head and demanding bullshit. When Lukas had come to visit in the psych ward and asked if I wanted a chance to start over, I’d jumped at it. I thought that I had no pride left to batter or bruise by accepting the charity of others, even if it was only my brother, but there it was. Fucking hell.

I stood at the base of the stairs that led up to Lukas’ place and wondered why. Why I bothered? Why had I even lived that day? Why had I been spared? To be some slob living on my brother’s couch?

With the clothes on my back and five bucks in my wallet I’d get real far on my own, wouldn’t I? Maybe I would be better off if I checked myself back in. Though the sad fact of that was that even as a ward of the state, I could wait months to be put in some sort of house or facility other than the hospital. Overcrowded, and ignored, the crazy fell through the cracks. They tried a dozen meds to make me sane, all making me worse, adding akathisia, to hallucinations, to projectile vomiting, and nothing touched the depression.

“Crazy,” I grumbled to myself. “Just like thinking some ex-porn star would ever want anything to do with you. No wonder his ex looked at me like I was dirt.” I sat down on the stairs as I realized I didn’t have a key to get into Lukas’ place, though I knew I’d had one before going to the police station last night. Maybe I’d left it in the bag at Micah’s.

“Fuck,” I swore again. Angry at everything. Myself mostly, for being so damn worthless.

The overcast sky chose that moment to open up and downpour. Fabulous.

I sat in the rain, hunched over, trying to protect my phone. The phone Lukas had given me, paid for, and even programmed. I sent him an angry text:You bastard. I hate you. Why didn’t you tell me I was working for you?

I waited a while for a reply or for the rain to stop. Neither happened. Then I sent:I don’t have my key to get in… it’s raining.I sent it even though it sounded whiny to me.

The door opened at the top of the stairs and Lukas looked down on me, his eyes bloodshot. He looked tired, a deep-down bone-weariness that I’d been seeing a lot on his face since I arrived in his life. Coincidence? Maybe not.

I jolted upright, eager to get out of the rain. He held the door for me. I thought about punching him, yelling at him or something, but instead I entered the apartment and put my phone on his kitchen counter.

He closed the door. I could feel his eyes on me, but the room blurred. I shivered as the air-conditioning cooled the rain drenching my skin and clothes. Lukas reached out for my shoulder and turned me to face him. I wanted to be mad, rage and scream out all my frustration, but he wrapped me up in his arms and hugged me tight while I sobbed into his shoulder. The stress of the flashback always fucked with my head, making it hard to know which way was up. I was floundering, and that meant I said and did stupid things.

“I’m sorry,” I kept saying over and over, although I wasn’t sure what for. Being me, maybe. It wasn’t the first time he stood witness over my tears. Hell, not even the hundredth time. It was what Lukas did, took care of me. And man, I felt so bad about that, about always being a burden to him.

“Can we talk about it?” Lukas asked after a while.

I pulled away. “About what? All the lies?”

“I have not once lied to you.”

“Like you found me a job working for Micah, but I’m not really?”

“I said working with Micah. With, not for. It’s not my fault if you don’t hear what I say to you. He does all the business management. Makes the schedules, does all the training, and you’d call him if you were too sick to go in. I simply own a large virtual share of his shop so he can stay here. I actually thought the two of you would be a good fit.”

I glared at him. “How are we a good fit? An ex-porn star and a broken toy soldier? We couldn’t be more different.”

“Don’t give me that self-pity bullshit. You’re only as broken as you allow yourself to be.” Lukas said. When I started to interrupt, he held up a hand. “No, we’re not debating this again. You think you’re crazy. I don’t agree.”

“Seeing shadow men tear apart your entire base isn’t crazy?”

“No,” Lukas said flatly. “Do I understand it? No. Do you? No. Do you need to understand it to heal? I don’t think so. What you need is to accept that there are things out there that defy explanation. Encountering them doesn’t make you crazy. It might make you confused, but not crazy. You focus on that because of all the damn therapists. That’s why I insisted on a new one when I brought you here. Someone who focuses on changing how you react to things rather than how you perceive things. Do you understand that?”

“I don’t know…” I answered honestly. “I’m not sure what to believe anymore.”

“Right! They did that to you with their drugs and supposed therapy. Telling you to question what you saw, what you felt, what you knew, telling you it’s all false. I think you see shit fine, but then you go and panic if you think what you see might not be the norm. There’s no prize for being normal, Alex. If there is even such a thing as normal,” Lukas said. He ran his hands through his hair making it stick up in ways I knew would drive him nuts if anyone else were to see. “I’m so tired. From the job and dealing with all your stuff.”

“I never wanted to be a burden to you.” I’d actually thought I’d be in the military for life. It was easy following orders day in and day out. Breaks between were hard, when I had to find ways to socialize and have so much down time, I didn’t know what to do with it.

“You’re not a burden. Fuck. I don’t know why you didn’t show up on my doorstep the day you got out. No, I had to find out almost a year later you were in a psych ward after mom and dad were asked if they wanted to take over your care or give up your freedom. You’re not a kid. You’re not nuts, and they were going to lock you away forever. No crime committed. Why would you let them?”

“It felt safer there.”

“Safer from what? Yourself? Us? The world?”