Canvas

28: Long Nights Turned Longer

RAVEN

It looked like all of the colour faded away on Atlas's face. I wondered why he was hesitating to answer his phone. I watch as he slowly grabs it, presses the screen, then lifts it to his ear.

"Hello?"

It's eerily quiet. I see his other hand dig into his pocket.

"Hi, mom..."

For a brief second we exchange looks, a possible cry for help. He makes his way to the front door, looking back at me as if asking with his facial expression if it's okay. I gesture to the door, he opens and closes it. Now he's pacing back and forth on the path leading to my unit. As every second passes by, his body language grows more nervous.

For a moment he stops, standing in place with a foot tapping on the ground. His back is facing me. I realize that I might've been creepily staring at him for too long, so I make myself look busy by adjusting and readjusting the drawing board. A minute later, I hear the door open and close. I look up and there he is, standing like he was hastily running from an oncoming rainstorm. Dazed in the eyes. His face softens when he looks at me.

"Sorry about that," he says, putting the phone away.

"No problem."

He pats his clothes off before sitting back down in the chair. I eye at my own phone on the couch. I can't believe it, all this time, I forgot to set the artsy mood. So I grab my phone, inches from falling into the couch's abyss, and open up Spotify.

"What kind of music do you like again?"

He blinks for a moment. "Oh... music? Anything, really."

I flip through some playlists recommended to me. "Tough decision. Stromae? The Sheepdogs? Perhaps something grungy to fit the theme, like Nirvana."

"Nirvana's..."

I hear Atlas croak, making me look up. He's tensely gripping his legs with an odd, straight sitting posture, staring dead at the wall. He takes a deep breath.

"Sorry, can we..."

"Take a break?"

"Yeah."

I put my phone down. Watching as the man gradually crumbles. He presses his fingers onto his temples and starts rubbing them firmly, eyes shut tight, then lets out a long sigh. Never really seen him in such... a vulnerable state. Whatever was going on in the phone call broke him.

"Hey..." I sit beside him on the couch. "You good?"

His gaze is averted from my direction. He's searching, looking for words to say. Pain written all over his body. I plant a gentle hand on his shoulder, which makes him loosen a little. He lets out a sigh.

"I don't know," he says, swallowing. "I might need to consider taking anxiety meds again because there's just... way too much happening right now. Shit is snowballing one after the other."

I pull him into me. For a moment he's frozen in place, until he relaxes in the hug, and wraps his arms around me while digging his head into my shoulder. He wants to cry, I can tell by his wrinkled expression.

"Sorry," he says in a sniffle. "I'm... sorry."

I pat his back. "No, it's fine. Let it out."

"I..."

I feel him gripping tighter, clinging to me like a koala. It doesn't bother me one bit. What does however, is the stress in this man's eyes. The hopelessness I relate to so well. We both need some kind of break. Or somewhere to go to let it all out. That's when an idea hits me.

"Let's go," I stand up while taking him by the hand.

"Huh?"

I don't give him time to react, to resist, to do anything to keep him firmly planted in one place. This isn't where it should be all let out. With his hand in mine, we run out of the front door. No shoes on. Who cares? Out into the young night, where the streetlights are just waking up and the cooling air is sucked into our lungs.

I don't hear him ask me "where are we going?". In fact, I don't hear him say anything at all. He's just allowing me to take him somewhere, our socks dampened by the grass below. Pass by a playground, over a bridge, and into a quiet forest with the city still faintly humming its noise. I find the right spot and let him go. We take a few seconds to catch our breath.

"This," I say, "is what I call the 'Fucking Forest'."

He looks at me confused. "The-"

"Not in the way you think. Watch."

I close my eyes momentarily, take in a breath, cup my hands around my mouth, and scream at the top of my lungs.

"Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck!"

Some birds flap their wings vigorously as they fly away, startled by my scream. Atlas laughs. A broken sounding laugh, but a laugh nonetheless.

"I see."

I pat his back. "Now you try."

"Me?"

"Yes."

"But it's..."

"Stupid? Childish? Weird?" I give his back another pat, this time more firm. "But it feels good, trust me."

He takes a bit to absorb my sudden request, then lets out another sigh.

"Okay."

He moves a couple steps to the left, the silhouette of his body blending in with a nearby tree's. I hear him make a quick 'whew' sound, raise his hands to his face, then inhale through his nose.

"Fuuuuuuuuuuuck!"

He yells it so loud I swear the tree branches shook.

"There you go," I say.

"How was that?"

"Fucking fantastic!" I yell into the forest.

Atlas wheeze-laughs.

"Keep fucking going!" I encourage him.

"Okay," he takes in another breath. "Fuuuuuuuuck!"

We each take turns.

"Shit!"

"Fucking stupid!"

"Bullshit!"

"Dumb fucking cockstain!"

"Titty-tickling shitheads!"

"Dipshit!"

Over and over we yell into the forest until our throats grow sore. At this point we probably woke up every single animal sleeping. The yelling turns into dry, coughing-fit laughter. Atlas loses his balance and nearly face-plants into the twig-covered ground. I offer my hand and he grabs it, shooting back up. He lets go of my hand to dust off the dirt.

"That was great," he says.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. It felt good... somehow."

"So you feel better?"

"Better..." he breathes it out. "Maybe?"

"Maybe?"

"Maybe, I don't... sorry."

"Then we aren't done yet."

"Huh?"

I stroll back to the bridge. "C'mon, you can borrow a pair of my socks. We're going for a walk."

"Walk? Where?"

Not exactly a "where are we going?" but... close enough. I wait for him to follow behind me, back to my house for a change in footwear, and back out into the long night turning longer.