Holding My Breath [Wattys 2016]

8 7 ~ R u s t y

                 

Present Day ~ July 17, 2011

I grab Blue's hand as we run. It's the rush, the people behind us that are trying to grab onto our leash, the crisp morning air. The pain shooting up my injured leg every time my soles hit the pavement as we escape the hospital.

"Run," he had said.

"Run?" I asked.

He'd smiled. "Like you've never run before."

And I had grinned back. And we had snuck past the curtain, me limping behind him as we ran to the nearest exit, and down the halls, not bothering to look back to where we had come from.

We slow down when we get to the side of the road, and I look around. My leg is shooting with pain, but I don't think I've ripped out any of my stitches. The throbbing in my veins makes me stop altogether for a moment and shift my weight off of my foot, collapsing in the grass.

"You good?" Blue asks, sitting down beside me. He leans against the bricked sign that labels the hospital like a can of soup. I do the same and just laugh. He gives me a weird look.

"I've never been better," I smile. I really smile, and it brings me back for a couple seconds to the day I met Blue when he followed me to the gas station. It seems like a forever ago like years have passed. "So what's next?" I ask, catching my breath.

"Well, I think you owe me some answers," he smiles a little. I don't.

"Blue..."

"Look," he says, looking me straight in the eyes. "You said that you trust me. So just give me something to work with. Anything to help me understand what you're going through." His eyes are pleading.

"I... You wouldn't believe me."

"Try me," he says. I shake my head.

"No, you really wouldn't believe me."

"Rusty, I'm really trying to help you, but you're making it really difficult."

"I know," I say. "But... Can we just drop it? Just for today? I've had enough of everything today and I don't want to talk about... Just for today, okay? Please?"

He nods slowly, squeezing my hand. "Thanks," I mumble.

He pulls a few coins from his pocket, pointing across the street. "You stay here, and I'm going to call for a ride. Be right back." He starts to get up and the sight of the payphone standing beside a park bench pulls all of the joy out of me.

"No," I say before I can stop myself. The flashes are coming back again. The police tape, the lights, the money.

Ring.

No. I close my eyes and listen to the passing of cars, the only sign that I'm not alone, in the dead of winter, beside the Grill. I know this isn't me

hometown. I know the heat in the air isn't a sign of winter.

Ring.

"Rusty?" I open my eyes, looking up at his frantic expression. I glance back at the phone, across the street. It's too far away to be possible, too far away to be real, but I swear I heard it. It was as clear as it was months ago, the devil calling me on a payphone land line.

"Rusty," he says again, touching my arm with the hand that isn't holding the change.

"Huh?" I ask, shifting. His touch breaks me out of my trance and I flinch at it a little. A minute ago, running, holding hands, had felt so... normal.

But now I'm back. I'm not stuck in the night my life changed, but on the grass beside a road, outside of the hospital, I had just run from. I'm grounded, held in place for a moment like I'm just waking up from a long slumber. "I'm fine," I say.

"Sorry, I'm kind of out of it," I mumble and he nods, understanding. Then he turns to cross the road and I let myself collapse into the grass. I'm too tired to actually do anything other than that right now. I watch as he darts across the road.

"Excuse me," I hear someone say and I turn around, only to feel everything inside my body freeze to ice. I quickly stand back up and take a couple steps back.

"What do you want?" I hear my voice shake at the sight of the man. I know that face. I remember that face. That face was there, watching me the day that I woke up after the robbery.

He's not a cop, at least I know that much. He's one of Caesar's pets. The one that's probably been spying on me this entire time.

The man smiles. "It's nice to see you again, Blake. It's been a while."

"What do you want?" I repeat, and I glance back to see Blue on the payphone, not noticing the man talking to me yet. Good.

"Not much," the puppet says. He reaches into his pocket and tosses something at me, and I don't bother catching it. I watch as the matchbox falls to the ground and I kick it away. "Oh, you'll want to read this one."

I pause before stooping down to pick it up. I watch the man, who just stands and watches me too.

"Is that all?" My voice cracks. The man nods.

And then he's gone, just turning and walking down the street, without a glance back. I look down at the matchbox in my hands, opening it to pull out the message.

Sorry about your leg, but I have a few other surprises left for you... Let's call this strike two.

This time, I don't strike the flames.