Page 88 of Red Fire
What’s wrong with me?
Fuck!
I probably just need some time alone. I’ll go and see her tomorrow. I can’t hide anymore. I need to get my head on straight, and then I need to figure out what I want.
At this moment, I need to be alone. I need time to process everything. Time to myself. I relax as I drive into my garage and close the door behind me. Then I go inside. I contemplate having something to eat but I’m not all that hungry.
I decide to check my gutters. They must be full of leaves. Completely blocked. I take a running leap, and I’m on the roof. Two hours later, the gutters are leaf and debris-free, but I don’t feel any better.
What to do. What to do?
I’ve always hated the downstairs bathroom. It’s tiled ceiling to floor in white subway tiles. It looks sterile. The sink is very boring, too. It’s the only part of the house that didn’t work out very well. It doesn’t fit. I turn a full circle, taking in the bathroom. It might be cathartic to demolish this room. I’ll go and buy some supplies tomorrow to revamp it. Today, it’s coming down. I know I’ll feel better once I’m done. Even if it’s just marginally better.
I go into the garage and over to my workbench, grabbing my supplies. I swing the hammer through the air, checking to see if it affects my ribs.
The bruises are worse today; they’re a deep purple with green around the edges. Luckily, they’re healing up well. Good food, rest, and plenty of sex will work every time.
I think about Octavia, the noises she made, how she urged me on. How afterward, we spoke for hours until the sun was thinking of rising. Okay, maybe not as much rest as I should’ve had, but I’m good. Much better and very much on the mend.
I go into the bathroom and swing the hammer at the sink. It shatters.
I laugh. It feels good. Just what I need. Then I hit the sink again, and it crumbles. Next, I take the hammer to the tiles and chip away at them. It doesn’t take too much effort. I feel a little stiff, but that’s where it ends. The worst of the pain is over.
I keep going until the bathroom is a shell, with piles of rubble all over the floor. I fetch the wheelbarrow and start carting the rubble outside, putting it into a neat pile. By the time I dump the last of it, the sun is setting on the horizon. I take a moment to look at it. To take it in. To see the beauty there. It’s something Octavia taught me to do that day during the thunderstorm. To see the beauty in everyday things. Feels like forever ago.
I wipe sweat from my brow. My stomach rumbles, reminding me that I haven’t eaten much of anything today.
I go to inspect my handiwork. The bathroom is gutted. It looks how I feel inside. What a seriously fucking negative thought.
Not going there.
My stomach rumbles again. I need to make myself some dinner.
Dinner!
My folks!
My homecoming celebration. My brother is going to be there…and Aspen.
Fuck!
Fuck!
Fuck!
Shit!I have to go. I can’t let my parents down. Levi will want to see me. Aspen, too. It’s the very last thing I want or need but I have to go. There’s nothing else to it. Maybe seeing Aspen for the first time with everyone there will be…better. The way to go. Maybe. It doesn’t matter because I don’t have a choice; I’m going.
I run up the stairs and turn on the shower. Just being here reminds me of her…of Octavia. Of this morning. Yesterday. All of it comes back to me.
Fuck!
I don’t want these memories. It makes me want to go to her. To tell her to come back…just until her flight next week. I can’t! It wouldn’t be right.
I take off my clothes and get under the spray. It feels good on my muscles. It’s soothing. I put my head under the steady stream, trying to relax. To ease some of the tension clawing in my gut. Then I lather up and put my head back under to rinse off.
I hear footfalls. The bedroom door opens.
“Who’s there?” I ask, wiping water from my eyes.