Intentional Fallacy (Book 5)

Chapter 7

The snow started up again and in the 15 minutes it took to drive to Matt's theater it was a blizzard. My wipers were no use and I was lucky to pull into the parking lot when I did because I could no longer see the road through the windshield. I got out of the car and the wind and snow burned my face. The front door of the theater lab was unlocked. It was a bright red door, visible even with everything else obscured by the snow. The building was open and I pushed my way inside the vestibule. The theater was dark. I had expected rehearsals for Matt's new play but I didn't see anyone. It must have been the weather. Matt must have sent everyone home. I could see there was a light on backstage, otherwise the tiny black box was dark.

"Matt?" I called out. I knew he was probably upstairs in his small office next to the lighting control box. When Matt didn't answer I walked through the small auditorium and could feel the nightmare rising again; I wasn't safe anywhere, it was following me. Lurking behind my thoughts and even the slightest anxiety beckoned it's growing potential to drag me under, into insanity. It was so familiar. I felt fingers on my neck and even the sound of my own footsteps, a muted thud from my rubber boot heels, kept me vigilant and fearful. Did I expect Jeff to walk calmly out from behind the deep burgundy stage curtains? Was I waiting for him to stand in front of me with the same expression he had those years ago pointing a gun at me, intent and determined to kill me.

"Eve?"

I jumped and cried out. When I saw Matt walking towards me I felt a wave of relief. It wasn't a calm relief because the vigilance was still there. In my state the relief I felt at seeing Matt felt like a respite before the final act.

"Everyone left," he said. He flipped a switch and the floor lights came on giving the room an amber, dim glow. It was barely enough to see by and mostly suggested light rather than something to see by. It suggested darkness more than light. "I sent them home. Come on up."

I followed him back stage and up the narrow stairs to his office. The space was small. I'd spent many hours in there talking and drinking red wine. He had two upholstered chairs, ratty and beat up. It was difficult to recognize that at one time they had been a gold velvet fabric. Over the years, the patches, often costume fabric, added a certain artistic quality to them. They seemed more like modern art with the silk, velvet, bright patterns, denim jigsaw that upholstered them.

"Here, sit down."

I removed my coat and hung it on the row of hooks along side hats and a couple of costume capes. I sat down as while he poured two glasses of wine.

He handed me one and then sat down on the other chair. "I called one of the actresses who lives nearby. You can stay with her tonight."

"I'd rather stay with you. I really need to talk. I think I'm losing my mind. I know I am."

"We can walk over to my apartment. Whatever you want to do. What's going on?"

I shook my head and took a sip. "I don't know if anything is going on. I'm going crazy, Matt. I mean it. I know I'm emotional and have had crazy times but this is real. I think I'm losing touch."

"What's going on?"

"Things have been spiraling since Christmas. I kept relying on work to keep me in control. I thought once enough time had passed it would recede. But, it won't. If anything it's getting stronger. Sometimes I don't know if I'm in reality.

"Why do you think Jeff is going to hurt you? What did he do?"

"Nothing or maybe somthing. I don't know--Remember I told you years ago I found a box of diaries and letters from Jeff's first wife, Margaret?"