Oliver Ausman Lives Again

twenty eight

I'm lucky Charlie's such a heavy sleeper. With all my tossing and turning, any normal human would wake up.

My mind keeps trying to find answers to the list of problems that just keeps growing. I can't fathom why we're being followed, I have no idea what to do about my feelings for Kat, and I don't know how I'm going to tell Isaac the truth about who I am-- if he's even still at the address on the envelope.

After we got away from the purple truck, Kat and I switched places and I drove the rest of the way to Minnesota. The three of us got dinner and checked into a small motel, our room nothing more than two twin beds, a bathroom, and a barely functioning TV. Charlie and I had our evening call with Peter and an hour later, the three of us were tucked in, watching some old movie that bored Charlie to sleep pretty fast.

I decided not to tell him what he slept through and asked Kat to do the same. Thankfully, she understood why. I feel bad keeping it from him, but I don't want Charlie to be paranoid about something that as far as I can tell, we got away from-- even if I still am.

I try and try and try to shut my mind off, but when the questions stop, they're just replaced by thoughts about everything that could go wrong tomorrow. If Isaac isn't here, that's it. Dead end. And if he is here, I still have to worry about the potential of him not liking what I have to say. If he throws me off his porch, what then? 

I sit up slowly, careful not to jostle Charlie as I grab my key from the nightstand and head over to the door, which squeaks as I open it. The cool night air seeps inside as I step out onto the second-floor balcony, closing the door behind me. 

Maybe some fresh air will help clear my head. Maybe nothing will and I'm doomed to be up all night.

My eyes scan the parking lot-- no purple truck. I breathe a sigh of relief, my eyelids heavy. At least knowing they aren't here means I have one less thing to worry about.

Crickets chirp loudly from the ground below. The distant sound of traffic is like white noise, gentle and constant. I can just barely see the highway out past the woods across from the parking lot. Cars pass each other. Headlights, taillights, just more people going places.

The thought makes me smile for once. I feel, despite the fact that I'm by myself in the middle of the night, like I'm not so alone. Like I'm connected to every person on the highway, every person who drives by the motel, and every person who's staying here. As much as I didn't believe it before, I'm starting to realize there are people out there for me. People like Charlie. People like Kat.

The door creaks behind me. I know who it is without looking. My body reacts to her presence before my brain does-- the hairs on the back of my neck stand up and my stomach feels like I've launched myself over the railing, flipping and dropping in the dizzying way that I know I'll miss when she's gone.

I turn my head as Kat shuts the door. She leans her back against it, the corners of her mouth curving up. She's silent, but her face says everything. Knowing smile, eyes filled with questions.