Twine Page 2

  Part 2

  The next morning John was sitting in the office at the back of Printsy’s waiting for Alice Miller to finish a phone conversation. He had woken up that morning to the sound of chirping birds inside what passed as his living room. An alarm program on his computer made the bird sounds and flashed the message “WAKE UP!!!” onscreen. It was always very difficult for John to get up in the morning and this is why he needed his alarm clock to be located in a different room, so that he would be forced to stand and walk to it in order to turn it off. Nevertheless, there were days when he slept even through the birds.

  Mrs. Miller put the phone down and pushed away the notepad and pen with which she had been writing. She turned toward John and removed her glasses.

  “John,” she said, “you were late again yesterday.”

  John looked down at the floor, unable to think of an excuse.

  “Now, John. This is the second time you’ve been late since we had our talk.”

  “I’m sorry, I wasn’t feeling well,” John muttered.

  “Again? Go see a doctor, John. But I’m sorry, you have one more chance.”

  The day proceeded then as usual, with few customers coming in, and with Lauren doing her best to avoid talking to John. He didn't think of the shadow in his room at all until it was almost noon, and just as he remembered and felt a chill crawl up his spine, the store’s doorbell chimed and in came Jillian. She waved at Lauren then walked straight to the print shop, smiling at John.

  “Hey,” she said. “Are you ready?”

  “Hi,” John said. “Sorry?”

  “Are you ready for lunch?”

  Jillian was blushing. She turned her head to point at the door and her black curls bounced around her pale face playfully. She smiled and looked down as though she was feeling shy. When John didn’t say anything, blue eyes turned up at him questioningly.

  “Uh, yeah,” John said. “Let me…”

  “Oh, come on,” Jillian said and laughed. She reached over the counter and grabbed John’s hand and guided him around to the division that was the print shop’s entrance. In this manner she lead him out of Printsy’s, catching a questioning look from Lauren.

  Soon they sat inside Quizno’s at a small table next to the large window showing Smithville’s main road. This was one of John's great nightmares, having to eat in front of a pretty girl. Jillian took a couple of bites of her sandwich and then noticed John’s unease.

  She put her sub down and said, “Aren’t you hungry, John?”

  “Oh, yeah, not really. I ate a big breakfast.”

  “Aren’t you warm like that?”

  “Like what?”

  She leaned across the table and tapped the top button of his shirt. “Like that,” she said. As close as she was, John could smell her perfume and it made him feel as though his head was swimming. He felt a strange calmness come over him and replace his anxiety. He looked back into her blue eyes and felt a happy peace like he hadn’t felt before.

  Without taking her eyes off his, Jillian undid the top two buttons of his shirt. She smiled and then unbuttoned his sleeves.

  “Better, isn’t it? She said and helped him roll them up his arm to the elbow. “It’s summertime. You don’t want to overheat.”

  John felt comfortable outside his home for the first time in a long time. He looked at his seldom-exposed skin and felt a small thrill, like he was revealing something secret.

  They finished lunch and when they were outside Quizno’s, they said goodbye and Jillian went in one direction, and John the other. As he walked back to Printsy’s he felt a manic energy inside him, a feeling of confidence and happiness. They had agreed to have lunch again the next day and he couldn’t wait to see her.

  When he walked into Printsy’s Lauren gave him a puzzled look.

  “What was that?”

  “A friend,” John said. “She was here yesterday, don’t you remember?”

  Lauren shook her head. “Something’s different about you.”

  “The shirt?”

  “Nah,” Lauren said. “You’re smiling. But the shirt too now that you mention it.”

  As the day wore on, John’s happy energy dissipated, and by the time the day was over he was beginning to feel anxious again. He wanted to roll his sleeves down and button his shirt back up but thought that it would be embarrassing if Lauren asked him why he had covered up again.

  When closing time came John rushed away more quickly than usual.

  John arrived on his street but he had to stop the car and wait while a moving truck backed into the house directly across from where he lived. The house had been for sale for a long time with no takers, but had now apparently found a buyer. When the truck pulled in, the man in the driver’s seat gave John a small nod. He looked strangely familiar but a wide Blue Jays cap shadowed his features. John pulled into his driveway and rushed inside before the new neighbours could try to talk to him.

  When he was settled in for the night in his shorts and t-shirt, he tried to read a book but it was hard to concentrate and he ended up in front of the TV. There was a Jays game on and it somehow felt like less of a waste of time because it was a real life event. Somewhere out there it was really happening, and so it felt like reality rather than pure escape.

  By evening’s end he was frustrated again but hopeful. He remembered how he had felt that day with Jillian and thought that if he could see her again, and more often, then everything would get better. And it was with these thoughts that he went to bed and found sleep overtaking him more easily than ever before. There in the dark John remembered her dark hair, curls that bounced whenever she moved her head, and her pale face and blue eyes. In a way that reminded him of the sensation of a dream, he felt that he could really smell her perfume and it filled his lungs and gave him comfort and eagerness to see her once more. He closed his eyes and pictured her face.

  When he opened them again the shadow from the night before was sitting in the corner again. He was startled and tried to jump up but his body didn’t respond. His muscles felt tense and cramped like they were being pulled tight, just on the verge ripping apart. He tried to scream but his lips wouldn’t part. With wide eyes, he stared at the thing in the corner. In the dark he could discern none of its features but it looked like an impossibly thin woman in a tattered skirt with messy, wild hair and long fingernails. As he looked in horror, the woman became a blur of darkness. She moved in a quick scramble toward him. He shut his eyes in fear and he felt her weight on his back. The witch was on top of him.

  She was heavy and John felt as though his spine was on the verge of breaking. Thin, cold fingers wrapped around his neck and squeezed, hurting him and choking him. The witch didn’t seem to be trying to kill him as she would ease the pressure and allow him to take laboured, desperate breaths through his nose before choking him again. Amidst his panic, a hint of a thought came to John, a hope that he was dreaming. It felt real, not like a dream at all, but it couldn't be true. It didn't make sense. He latched onto this hope and thought that if only he could roll himself off the bed then he could be awakened by the fall.

  And so, through the fear and panic, and through the pain, he focused his will on moving his body. He tried to push off with his arm, the one he could see in front of him. It became his entire purpose to cause that arm to move, to at least twitch so he would know it was possible. And move it did.

  It was barely perceptible. A twitch of his wrist but his hand moved and, as it did, the pain stopped at once and he was no longer paralyzed. It felt like waking up. He was sweating and he could feel the strain of used muscles but there was no witch on top of him, and no pain.

  It must have been a dream. It hadn’t felt like it at the time but now the memory of it was exactly dream-like. His focus on moving must have jostled him awake somehow. Nevertheless, he lied awake in bed for a long time with his back against the wall, unable to rest.

  In the morning John made it to work on time but he was very tired and drowsy.
He felt almost like he was hungover. He wasn’t as anxious as usual and he hadn’t buttoned his shirt all the way up. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. He went through the motions of the day but all he could think about was seeing Jillian at lunch. There was a sadness and an unease building up inside of him and he was sure that the girl could take it all away and replace it with the same happiness she had given him the day before. In addition to that, she could help him forget the bad dream, could ease his mind and bring him peace. All he had to do was wait until lunchtime and he would see her again.

  Jillian was about to become his whole world.