Unbound Read Free

find its usual panicked rhythm.
    He
shook his head. “Bad men.”
    “What
about the other customer? The tall one? Where is he?”
    Sam
locked the door and moved quickly towards the back of the store, still avoiding
my eyes. “I don’t know Rashelle. He left too. But you’re okay? Not hurt?”
    I
felt numb, as if my emotions had been wrapped in cellophane, but I wasn’t hurt
and I told him so.
    “Shouldn’t
you call the police?” I felt curious about my lack of anxiety as I said that.
Why wasn’t I more frightened by what had just happened? Was this what shock
felt like?
    “No
police,” he said, shaking his head.
    Nodding
as if this was a perfectly reasonable response, I unlocked the door and left
the store. Standing on the sidewalk, I looked up and down the street, just as
Sam had. The rain had stopped and the last of the morning’s commuters had closed
their umbrellas and loosened their jackets. But the person I was looking for,
the one I always looked for, was gone. Again.
    A
surge of disappointment pushed itself forcibly into my cloudy thoughts and I
sagged a little under its weight. The thought of going back to work, of
spending one more minute trying to make the best of this already horrible day,
was so unappealing that I reached for my cell and called Jane as I walked in
the direction of home.
    “Rachel!”
Her voice beamed motherly concern at me through the phone. “I thought you’d
gotten lost. Where’s the milk?”
    I
cursed silently as I realized the milk was still sitting on the counter at
Sam’s. Guilt bloomed up in my chest, riding shotgun to the uneasiness I was
beginning to think had made a permanent home there. “Hey Jane. Um, I’m not
feeling well?” It came out sounding more like a question than I’d intended it
to.
    Fortunately,
Jane’s maternal instincts were in overdrive and she didn’t seem to notice. “You
did look flushed this morning,” she said. “Poor you! Where are you? Do you need
help?”
    “I’m
around the corner. I um, didn’t make it all the way to the store,” I said,
sounding as pathetic as I felt. “I think I just need to go home and rest.” I
slumped my shoulders and then felt ridiculous as I realized she couldn’t see
me.  
    “That’s
probably best. You don’t seem yourself at all today. Take care, okay kiddo?”
    I
thanked her, grateful for having an understanding boss and knowing that trying
to concentrate on my work would be pointless. It was always like this after I
saw him. Days could pass in a stupor, filled with half formed ideas and
unanswered questions.
    Throwing myself on my bed when I got home, I crawled
underneath my blankets and felt just as sick as I had told Jane I was. The unnatural
sense of serenity had fled and was replaced by pangs of anxiety and self-doubt,
mixed with serious questions about my sanity. Reaching down, I pulled the paper
out of my pocket and twined it through my fingers, tracing each number with my
eyes, committing it to memory.
    I felt weary as the tears came, tired of struggling so
hard to do what others did without trying. Tired of being different, tired of
being so broken. In a flash of irritation, I wiped my eyes and sat up, grabbing
my phone. Fingers shaking, I dialed the first few digits, then stopped, staring
at the black screen. What if being normal also meant losing him? I hit cancel
and put the paper under my pillow and flopped over on my stomach. I promised
myself I’d call tomorrow, knowing that this was only the lie I repeated to help
me get through another day.
    As
I felt myself drifting to sleep, I tried to recreate that last moment in the
store, the moment he had turned around and I had seen his eyes. Eyes that I had
first seen when I was five years old.
    *           *           *           *           *
    “Rachel!
Now please.”
    That
morning, my mother had stood at my bedroom door, arms folded. “I’m going to
start counting.”
    Leaving
my motley crew of