Shadowed Soul Read online

  Another hour of quick walking and I recognized the urban landscape again. With the knowledge that we were nearly back at Dorothy and Pete’s my anxiety level rose like Ichabod. Bailey had relaxed and although part of me understood he could have been growling at anything, another dog, a stray cat, I could not shake the feeling that I was being stalked. After all in Washington Irving's tale poor Ichabod was in sight of his home when his pursuer struck him down. All I could do was proceed steadily. I believed that if something were behind me, running would just spur it into action and with every footstep closer to the front door my heart pounded harder in my chest.

  As I reached Beth's parents’ I beheld the comforting silhouette of my wife stretching her lovely limbs illuminated in her bedroom window. At this vision any anxieties I had felt melted away and I realized once again that I really and truly needed to go for professional help.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Beth and I had talked for hours. Despite her compassion I could not yet bring myself to tell her about my online habits. I had often become convinced by my depression that no one would listen. It was an illness that made you feel alone and also impelled you to do whatever you could to achieve isolation exactly when you needed as much contact as you could get. My experiences in the empty streets had convinced me that this ephemeral idea of a Shadowed Soul was not one that I should be clinging to as much as I had been. I had begun to see this fiction as a reality that could not be healthy. It was about time for me to fully embrace my condition; turning it into a demonic fairytale character was dramatizing my symptoms allowing me to avoid the truth of what was at the root of my condition.

  So Beth and I talked until the daylight filtered through the winter darkness. So much was said. There were tears and laughter; my wife and I had never been closer. I had always known that she would support me but knowing something and fully understanding it can often be different processes. We had talked softly so as not to wake the baby and Bailey had lain on the floor next to the bed. I just wanted to find a stable reality and I felt this was achievable.

  Although we were both shattered from lack of sleep, when we heard Dorothy begin her morning routine, we rose to help her in the kitchen. It soothed me to be part of a simple family routine. We laughed and chatted throughout the morning. Peter took hundreds of snapshots with his new digital camera (a present from Beth and me, apparently). And then as a family we all took Bailey out for a walk. Even though Beth and I were both exceptionally tired, this day had been as perfect as Christmas Day. The normal daily routine had filtered back into their life and I was still welcome.

  After lunch we put the baby in his crib and Beth and I decided it best that we nap at the same time. Lying on a bed with my wife under such normal circumstances was perfection incarnate. It was exactly a normal-couple thing, these inconsequential details of life were better for me than any anti-depressant medicine or BDSM site.

  The evening too was simple and perfect. We had dinner and afterwards watched television, followed by an epic game of Monopoly. Dorothy proved to be shrewd in the game as she increased her stash ruthlessly while all of our money dwindled. We laughed and joked, and not once did I wonder where my stalker was hiding. Nor did the Shadowed Soul make his presence known with a nasty remark.

  This was the ideal escape from the demon. With each passing moment the pressure of my depression lifted a bit more. It was heavenly to genuinely relax. Now when I smiled or laughed it did not seem unusual. So when Peter suggested I stay until New Year I snapped at the chance like a hungry turtle. I did not want this time to end.

  I had to go back to my apartment in order to pick up some new clothes and Beth, Bailey and the baby decided to come with me. As the bus trundled through the icy streets I worried. Maybe going back to the empty apartment would not be ideal? So many bad memories had accumulated since Beth had gone to stay with her parents that I was concerned the building itself would tangle me up in my old ways. Throughout my life, my mother told me I was weak. There were many times I had allowed the darkness to overwhelm me because giving in was easier than outwitting it. A general weakness I could not ever fully shake off clung like a shadow. However, I did my best to hide my fears from Beth as she was so happy with our renewed love and communication. Her joy inspired me to shed my concerns surrounding the handcuffs: Objects without meaning until we defined their meaning.

  Our bus ride took us past my old place of work, and as the bus had rolled by my office Beth put her hand on my forearm to reassure me. Once again I was struck by the question of how I had managed to be so very lucky to keep a wife like her. When I was younger I had believed in karma and if this belief had been based on anything there was no way that I should have been able to find someone like the woman I married. I was not a bad person, but if karma had indeed existed, I would have been condemned to a life alone, or at least that was how it seemed to me. When I had said this to Beth at one point she had just smiled and told me that if karma was true then obviously I was a good enough person that my bad deeds were swept away by the fundamental decency within my heart. I had accepted what she said with a smile but never truly believed it. The weird thing was these past few days had begun to chip away at my self-loathing. My dreams were no longer tortured landscapes. In fact I could not particularly recall having any dreams since I had been sleeping next to Beth. It was as though her presence infused me with peace, and my mind relinquished the punishing phantasms.

  The baby slept for much of the journey and Bailey sat patiently next to us while we chatted. As we entered the apartment I felt the sense of foreboding. The hallway seemed composed of a pithy malignance and although this was invisible to Beth, the baby seemed to sense the negativity. Distressed, Jonathan poured forth, spilling into full-throttle wailing.

  “He doesn’t like it here,” I said to Beth.

  “Maybe he just needs a new diaper,” she replied nonchalantly. Beth soothed him as I unlocked the door; we entered the crypt.

  “You put the tree up!” exclaimed Beth, delighted. “I knew you weren’t a total Grinch.” I smiled sheepishly at her happiness. My only motivation to decorate the apartment was Beth’s appreciation. I was relieved Beth did not notice the missing ornaments, fallen soldiers to my isolationist rage. However, the feeling of disquiet surged through me; I wanted to collect my clothes and leave.

  “Hey, we should have a coffee. I've missed our old place,” said Beth making her way to the kitchen. I muttered agreement while inwardly all I wanted to do was get the hell out.

  In the bedroom I stuffed clothes into an old sports bag I found at the bottom of the closet. Every moment here felt like endless prison, the scene of my most debauched desires and now I was forced to pretend this was a happy place. Dumping my bag by the door, I made my way through to the kitchen to find Beth making coffee.

  “Honey, can you run down to the store and grab some milk?” Beth smiled at me.

  “Why don't we grab coffee on the way home?” I suggested, desperation rising in my voice.

  “Because I want one here. I've missed this place, Thomas. It’ll be nice,” said Beth breezily. I could not deny her small request.

  As I walked to the corner store I began to reason that Beth’s presence in the apartment might not be such a bad thing. Perhaps her sunshine would dispel the shadows. Why did I always believe something would go wrong? Especially when I was in such a buoyant mood? The apartment was simply an apartment; there was nothing sinister about it. It was not as though I had actually kidnapped women and kept them bound and gagged in that place. It had only been online images that millions of people looked at daily. In reality the only darkness this apartment had ever contained was the depression within me. I really needed to focus on the idea that my depression only physically affected me and not the world around me. I had accepted long ago that I was perhaps mentally ill. I would not allow this illness to escalate to a point where I considered myself hopelessly insane. Could I even prevent it? How would I even know if I had in fact gone ove
r the edge irretrievably?

  I bought milk and cookies and as I made my way back to the apartment, I had a freeing revelation. I found solace in the idea that whatever insidious darkness wormed its way into my mind would be banished quickly. The strength I had found over the past two days was proving formidable. That was a good sign because fundamentally I was who I was and that was a genuinely decent human being.

  “Honey, I'm home,” I joked as I entered the hallway, a slight frown forming on my head as Beth did not respond. I moved through to the living room and saw her on the sofa gazing sadly at the computer.

  “Beth? Are you okay?” I asked.

  “Thomas, what have you been doing?”

  My heart sank at the realization that Beth had found my browsing history. I looked down at the carpet, a small piece of shattered Christmas bauble caught my eye. I had no idea what to say, there was nothing that could be said to make her feel better.

  “I was lonely and I was lost,” I admitted after a long painful moment.

  “You didn't need to be lonely, Thomas, I told you that. In fact I've told you so many times to come stay at my parents, and just knowing that you couldn't come to me hurts more than anything. I wish you had told me what was going on in your head.”

  “I was going to tell you,” I stammered. “I didn’t know how.”

  It dawned on me that had Beth not looked at my history, she never would have known. And I asked myself if I would have ever told her. I could only gaze at the floor feeling ever more helpless and humiliated.

  “Thomas, it’s going to be so difficult for you to get another job, isn't it?” Had she guessed why I had been sacked?

  “Maybe,” I admitted sheepishly.

  “Oh, Thomas, why? How could you be so stupid? I mean, did it ever occur to you that they would look at what internet sites you looked at? It's bad enough to know that you’ve been looking at pornography. But I can kind of understand it because I know how harsh your reality can be and because we were apart. I sort of get it. What I don’t get is why you wanted to look at those women tied up. That's not something I've ever seen in you before but again I can sort of understand that to. What I can't understand is why you would have looked at it at your work and why you didn't tell me on Christmas Eve when I asked why you lost your job?”

  “I didn't want you to hate me,” I mumbled.

  “For fuck sake, Thomas, you think my love is so weak that I would throw it away because of this? You think the whole fucking world is focused at you!” I looked at her sharply. There was more pain in her expression than anger.

  “Beth, I'm not sure how to say this so all I can do is tell you how I feel. When I’m depressed I can't find anything about me to like and I’m convinced that nobody can ever like me. I know it's stupid and irrational but that's what my depression does, it makes me irrational. Irrationally paranoid, irrationally angry, irrationally stupid and I hate that part of my illness more than anything because at the time that I need to communicate I can't because I don't think anybody wants to listen. I don't think your love for me is weak but I don't know if it's strong enough to tolerate me.”

  “I see.” Beth’s voice was emotionless and her expression had drawn into a tight little smile and for that moment she reminded me of my mother.

  “How did you find out?”

  “Your boss e-mailed me, Thomas. I just haven't been physically able to check my internet until today.”

  “Why would that fuck e-mail you?” I asked angrily.

  “He worries about you, Thomas,” said Beth.

  “No, he fucking hates me and that's why he did this, he wants to fuck up my fucking stupid fucking life.” I began to shout and the baby started whining again.

  “Don't raise your voice, Thomas,” said Beth, thunder rolling from her throat.

  “Sorry, he pisses me off. He sacked me and now he wants to split us up.”

  “No, honey, he doesn't want that.” She looked at me sadly.

  “Really?” I asked.

  “He sent me a link and an e-mail address to a counselor that he says is good with depression,” explained Beth. I looked at her and frowned.

  “How would he know someone like that?” I asked.

  “I have no idea, Thomas, but he says in the e-mail that we should contact this person and maybe she will be able to help us.”

  “We don't need help,” I snapped instantly regretting the stupidity of these words, of course we needed help. I was drifting away from anything resembling a decent human life and I was in danger of losing everything.

  “Yes, we do, and you know we do, Thomas.” Her voice had lost its edge and now contained nothing but warmth and compassion. “Your old boss only e-mailed me because he felt you would ignore anything from him and he’s so sorry that he had to fire you. He told me that the decision had come from above his head and he had no choice but to follow the instructions.”

  “Company fucking policy,” I muttered.

  Perhaps I had been wrong about Steve Mitchell. He was simply doing a job and he needed people that he could rely on. I had been far from reliable. I had misjudged him. It seemed my depression had blinded me to many obvious truths.

  “Okay, maybe we can call this number after the New Year?”

  “No, Thomas, we call her now.” Beth’s resolve was complete.

  “But, it’s the holiday,” I protested.

  “I don't know if I can live like this anymore. I do love you. I will always love you. You are my sun and my moon but I’m hurt by your actions so often and I don't know if I’m strong enough to deal with the rollercoaster much longer.”

  As Beth wept I kept her wrapped in my arms, hoping to give her more than shallow comfort. An hour later she was gone from my life again. She needed space to process. Had I lost her forever? Fate had decided that no matter what I tried I was destined to painful oblivion.

  My only comfort was Bailey. Bailey had stood his ground and remained at my side. Beth and I both had attempted to leash him, but he had swerved stubbornly to avoid the hook of the chain. Ultimately, our dog had sat down squarely, far from the door, and stared at me until we all understood Bailey’s decision was final.

  Beth accepted Bailey's decision, and gave him a pat to let him know she still loved him. Maneuvering the baby carriage and Bailey together was difficult for Beth, so as long as she maneuvered within familiar turf, her eyesight was strong enough to get her home to her parents.

  Bailey’s choice to stand by me at this time gave me the strength to accept that Beth and the baby were going. Beth promised to make a decent excuse to her parents so I could save face.

  “Frozen pipes,” said Beth with a note of irony. “It’s fair to say we have frozen pipes, don’t you agree, Thomas?” I nodded and we smiled compassionately at one another. “You promise you will call and make an appointment? I need to hear you promise, Thomas.”

  “I promise I will call,” I mumbled. Beth scrutinized me for further confirmation. “I will.”

  “When?” persisted Beth.

  “During working hours,” I assured her.

  Vague plans had been sketched that I would turn up at the house on New Year's Eve, having already placed the call to a psychologist. Even as I sat here with my wife’s seeing-eye dog I felt I was still too proud or too stubborn to actually call some shrink, despite my promise to Beth. I resented deeply that the promise of Christmas had been shredded by the Shadowed Soul. Confetti in the wind, my joy dissipated once more as my life spiraled out of control.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Weeks passed. I did not call a shrink. Why ask for help? Bailey was all I needed. Bailey and I got out every day to walk through the park. Though he was off his leash he never left my side. He sensed I was unwell and needed him. Winter’s sharp intensity softened and tree branches pinked as the earth thawed. Despite the chill, the vibrant hue of life reminded me time had passed and another spring lay ahead. It had been a hard winter physically and mentally; a fugue of haunted darkness had en
gulfed me since the day that Beth had left the apartment. Inhaling deeply as Bailey and I strolled through the park, tendrils of clean hope seemed to clutch my heart. People passing by appeared cheerful, as though relieved that the shortest day of the year was well behind us and days were getting longer. The world revolved as it always did and always would. Human beings were as much creatures of instinct as of rational thought as well as habit. Though winter came and went each year, deep down in our primitive beings the fear remained that the cold and dark would never leave. Maybe that was just me over-thinking the change of seasons? Maybe there were those who were always destined to be adrift in a bleak wintery landscape of the mind, those who never asked for help, and, like me, those who broke a promise to call a shrink.

  I never made it to Dorothy and Pete’s either. I was too embarrassed to show. What would I say? The pipes are fixed now. They were not. I had let Beth’s parents down along with Beth and Jonathan. Beth claimed that they were okay with me and just wanted to make sure that I was genuinely alright. I still could not face them. I was sure that Beth had not told them the real reason I had been sacked but shame clung like tar and feathers. Having lost both my parents, the prospect of losing another two was too painful to risk. I could not face their disappointment, imagined or not. So, Beth and I had met in the park at least once a week, more if I felt strong enough to leave my self-imposed prison to face her. Only with Bailey beside me could I carry on subsisting. I brushed my teeth, made coffee, showered, and moved a few things from one part of the empty apartment to another. Small goals with no focused trajectory toward improvement; it was pointless. I knew if I did not function Bailey would be neither fed nor watered, he would not get exercise and would be largely helpless. It ate at my brain that I found the strength for the dog but not my own family, but the rationale was always there: Bailey needs me, they do not need me. Were I nothing more than the ghost of a memory on this planet, Beth, Peter, Dorothy and the baby would continue, they would prosper. I was a guy they knew, probably even loved but I was not essential to their survival. To Bailey’s survival, though, I was. And I required him to live because without his uncomplicated love I felt I would have nothing in my life to inspire me to take one more step.