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The thought is so tempting. My every compulsion is to forget, to bury the pain and the betrayal with something manmade and strong. And isn’t my heart speeding away in my chest, excited by the very idea of going numb, of forgetting?
When I recognize the fragile justifications starting up in me, a light sweat breaks out on my forehead.
My hands on the steering wheel begin to shake.
My palms turn slippery.
My breath starts in gasps and my vision starts to narrow, so I pull off the main street into the empty parking lot of a little strip mall. “Just br-breathe,” I say aloud to myself as I focus on clawing myself out of the panic.
Goosebumps break over my entire body, pulling the fine hairs on my arms taut, and, overcome with panic, I rock myself back and forth slowly, trying to dispel some of the compulsive energy currently driving me.
This wasn’t supposed to happen.
Not like this.
With shaking hands, I reach for my handbag on the passenger seat and pull out my cellphone. Not giving myself any more time to think, I hold down the nine key for three long seconds, engaging my speed dial.
Suzy answers on the first ring. “Well, well, well, nice to finally hear from you.”
“Suze-” But I can’t say more through my choked gasps for air.
“Cat?” Her voice sounds so far away, so unreachable. “Cat? Where are you?”
I can hear her running. I hear a door open and close and a car start.
“Suzy, they…” But then I begin to cry. And once I start, the tears are impossible to stop. Each sob is followed by a gasp of air that wracks my chest. Tears blur my vision, and I shut my eyes, preferring the darkness to the watery loss of sight.
Through the echoes of my heartbroken sobs, Suzanne’s voice reaches for me. “Cat, I need you to listen to me, okay?”
I don’t reply. I nod and swallow my sobs as I try to listen for her voice.
“Just stay on the phone, all right.”
“’kay,” I rasp.
“Alright. I need you to take a few deep breaths.”
I listen to her voice, following her instructions as she directs me to inhale and exhale, and, although her voice is clear and strong, I can hear the waver of fear in it too. And it scares me. It scares me that she understands how close I am to throwing it all away.
“Good, Cat.” She talks to me slowly, like I’m a child ignorant of the dangerous ledge I’m standing on. “Okay, now I need you to tell me where you are.”
“I don’t know.” Hot tears stream down my face, blurring my surroundings.
“A landmark? A sign? Anything, Cat.”
We are both quiet as I look around, blinking through my hazy vision. “I’m parked at a strip mall, about ten minutes south of Clementine Lane. I…”
“What services can you see? AStarbucks, maybe?”
“No.” My eyes find a sign that says MR. SOAPY printed above an animated washing machine with long oval eyes and big buck teeth. “There’s a laundromat. Mr. Soapy.”
“And a taqueria?” Suzy sounds relieved. “With a cactus on the sign.”
“Yes.” I see the sign. It’s yellow but sun-faded with a bright green cactus on the far-right corner. “San Antonio Taqueria.”
“Okay, I know where you are. I’m coming. Just…” her voice breaks. “Just don’t hang up, okay.”
“I won’t.” But exhausted and swamped with sweat, I let my head fall back on the headrest and close my eyes. Occasional shudders still trickle through me, leaving my empty stomach sick with nausea. Me entire body is tense as I fight the desperate panic. My head aches from the tears.
