Lighthouse Nights

21

“you know, i’ve never once invited you here.”

“your dad let me in.”

gabe retrieved his beer from behind the computer screen. “did you ever consider that i really don’t care about you and i’d like to be alone?”

“did you ever consider that i KNOW you want to be alone and i really don’t care?”

“pretty bitchy.”

if gabe didn’t recognize “sarah” before, he wouldn’t now. more blush, more gloss, more BUBBLEGUM with an emergency supply of makeup in her backpack. instead of a skirt, she donned a pair of hand-me-down capris to hide the scar on her knee. she even highlighted her hair with lemon juice from the bread shop’s pantry to ensure that “sarah” was truly dead at sea. “i’ve been thinking about the threat you made,” she said.

“no threat. just fate.”

“i don’t want you to do it.”

“you poor sheltered girl... you’ll understand someday.”

jules dropped her bag on the floor beside the couch and edgar lurched at the sudden thump.

“be cool, honeybunny,” said gabe to the bird.

“tell me you won’t do it,” she implored. “please, gabe.”

“i’ve been preparing for eleven months, three weeks and two days. why would i change my plan? i don’t even know who the hell you are.”

jules lunged two giant steps and snagged gabe’s phone from the edge of his desk. always keep your cellphone on your person.

“ha! who you gonna call? my dad?”

jules dialed the number scrawled on her palm. “if i can’t convince you, maybe they will.”

gabe grinned and twisted in his chair. “they?”

“the suicide hotline.”

gabe stood from his desk and circled jules with the off-kilter slouch and toothy grin of a rabid hyena.

“i just wanna hear what they have to say,” she said. 

the line rang once, but gabe snatched the phone with his claw and skipped away.

she followed him across the room, arms slapping for the phone but the boy was quicker and hopped to the bed.

“hang up, gabe,” she demanded from below.

“hello?” he said to the operator. “i’ve got a gun and i want to die.”

“not funny, asshole,” jules said.

gabe raised a finger, mouthed “hold on,” and grinned. “no, i’m not alone. my wife and kid are strapped to the heater. i think i’m going to take ‘em down with me. i’ve been drinking. vodka. maybe a little whiskey.”

“gabe, HANG UP THE PHONE.”

he sniffled and pretended to cry. “no! i won’t put it down! it’s my right to carry a firearm! read the constitution!” gabe’s knees buckled and stretched as he bounced on the mattress. “if you don’t do your job, i’m going to kill us all. now convince me! convince me to put down this gun!”

jules hoisted herself to gabe’s level, but he shoved her easily to the bed with his free hand. she tried to sit up, but he bounced more furiously and she couldn’t hold her balance.

“one more day? what do you mean ‘one more day’? if i live one more day, the cops will haul me away! they’ll put me in the fucking chair! i can’t do that! not the cops! there’s no turning back! i’ve got the gun pointed at my little six-year-old son!”