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Chapter Five - A Long Way From Heaven

Watching the candle flicker out in the evening glow
I can't let go
When will this night be over?

The day passed slowly. I refused to leave the boat; I gnawed on bread even though my stomach demanded so much more. I watched the sun set and tried to paint, but it was no use. My muse had been gone much to long. By eleven, I was the only passenger left on any of the dozens of ships that had docked at the harbor. Hundreds of tiny fireflies dotted the sky. The breeze had picked up, a cool breeze that provided a stark contradiction to the burn-inducing sun of the day. I tossed a worn sweatshirt over my head and squeezed my eyes shut.

It had hit me the moment the material had slid across my nose. I tried not to inhale too deeply, but that was next to impossible. I had yanked the shirt out of the back of my closet when I had stuffed my bags for the trip. The sweatshirt smelled like her.

It was covered with Lauren's perfume.

Her habit of wearing my clothes had become something of a little joke between the two of us. She had gotten into the habit of sleeping in my things when I was gone; she used to tell me that my scent made it feel like I was right there before her. I used to laugh and, slap her bottom playfully; I can't remember how many times I told her she was more dramatic than Shakespeare.

Now I knew what she had really been telling me. She was trying to explain the dull ache that gnawed at her heart when we were separated. I had been too busy to really get it.

But time had slowed. Instead of the days flying until I could be with her again, the calendar was playing a dirty trick. Each day was a year. A month a century.

With her perfume invading my lungs, I grabbed a chaise lounge and spread it out on the deck. I straddled the fake plastic furniture and settled down slowly. There was a barrage of creaky protest, but it held me. My head angled up towards the night sky and I studied the stars, wishing not for the first time that I could be up there.

There was a time when I could have pointed out all the constellations. But my brain had grown fuzzy. My attention caught on a large star near the moon. Without blinking it seemed to flicker like a candle flame caught in a slow breeze. My eyes watered over, desperate not to break the connection. Maybe it was the persistant effect of the perfume or the frustration of the day, but I was overwhelmed with the feeling that it was her star. Lauren's star.

Well a slow well of anger stirred in me, I was suddenly reminded of Brian's attempt to help me understand.

God giveth and God taketh away.

It had sufficed in the moment, but every time that phrase came back to me, the more I resented it. Why did God have to taketh away? How could God take someone as kind and gentle as Lauren? Why take from the earth the type of girl that would stand guard over an oil-covered bird and called ten different places until she got help? The type of girl that took a chance of a train-wreck of a guy and showed him how to truly love?

And what did an unborn child do that necessitated taking its life away before it had even begun?

The tears in my eyes extingushed the stars flame. My back tensed so badly that my shoulder blades felt like they were going to crack. I grabbed the sides of the chair and took deep, cleansing breathes like my psychiatrist had instructed me to do. The pounding of my heart started to slow, but sweat still dripped from my forehead like I was suffering from a horrible illness. I got up and went below deck. In the small bathroom, I splashed handfuls of cold water onto my cheeks. When I was drenched, I slowly looked at my reflection.

I looked horrible. The circles on my eyes showed just how bad I was lacking in sleep. I ran my hand along my jawline, the dark blonde hairs scratching my palm. An uneven mustache had erupted above my upper lip.

Suddenly I felt the presence again. I blinked rapidly, looking past my own reflection in the mirror. It was irrational, but I could almost see her behind me, her long hair undulating with the shake of her head. She hated me with a mustache. She had always teased me that I looked like a Hulk Hogan wannabe whenever the days got away from me.

Somehow I found the razor. I don't remember moving, but minutes later the small sink was filled with water and I had applied a thin layer of cream over the offending hairs. I felt her fingers playing with the ends of my hair, her laughter tickling my ears as I made long, sure strokes across my face.

I was a man possessed. The water turned dirty as I flicked the growth into the basin. I pulled the stopper and watched it all swirl down. I grabbed a towel and ran it over the newly smooth skin. Without pausing, I stripped down and stepped into the tiny shower. The water that ran over me was ice cold and made my teeth chatter, but I wasn't bothered that it might keep me awake. There was no sleep for me. Nightmares loomed in the recesses of my brain.

Passing out was the only way to get me to sleep. That's when the visible darkness of oblivion took over.

After showering and brushing my teeth, I made my way back up on deck. I curled up on the chase lounge and concentrated on my breathing again. Once upon a time, I would have spent my late-night prank calling my friends, listening to music, playing World of Warcraft...but none of that mattered now. In silence, I could continue to think of Her. In silence I could seek refuge in my very own quasi-imaginary world.

Besides, in solitude, Lauren was still with me. From her perch in Heaven, she was keeping me from crossing the line. It wasn't the answer I was seeking. Deep down I kept reminding myself that I would go to Hell if I crossed that line.

And Hell was a long way from Heaven.