7 months ago

Comfortable Madness First PDF 4-13-18

Blurred Tayla started

Blurred Tayla started the coffee. Light from the porch was thin and weak. She turned to me, silent. Her face was stiff and stern, a red and black mask. I tried not to look at her. It was impossible. Her eyes pulled me in, held me. I forgot to breathe for a moment. “Who’s Gid?” she asked. Her voice ground out like stones in tin bucket. I wanted to tell her. I wanted to explain the whole thing. Gid’s voice punched in. “It’s a secret,” he said. I swallowed. “A guy,” I said. “A guy?” she asked. “I told you.” “Your dream.” “My dream.” Tayla walked out. She went to the lawn and dug her toes into the muddy grass. I joined her and the cold and the rain hurt my joints, but Tayla simply ignored it. I thought about Gid. I thought about the blurred face. How come I couldn’t see him? Did that mean anything? How do I tell Tayla about it? Will she believe me? Do I? “I see him sometimes,” I said. “It’s just a dream,” Tayla said. “Maybe.” She looks at me with that scared, brave look. It was the look she got when things were slipping away. It was the look she put on when she was doing something she didn’t like doing. “I’m okay,” I said. Doubt. Fear. “Really?” she asked. “It’ll pass,” I said.

I didn’t know that for sure. Gid was different. He was more than a dream but less than real. I didn’t know what to do with him. All I knew was that I hated everything about him. Worry sharpened her face. Her eyes narrowed, and her fingers played a silent song on her thigh. Our cigarettes burned down, and we went into the kitchen. Tayla poured us coffee and we sat at the table. She held my hand. “I’m going to be okay,” I said. I wasn’t sure if I was right or not, but saying it meant something. Tayla didn’t look sure either. They were just words. No promises. Just hope. We needed it, but neither of us trusted it.