Page 42 of Texting Dr. Stalker

A fourth message vibrated, almost as if he sensed my unwillingness, eagerness…confusion.

X:You can talk to me instead of the stars, you know. Unlike them, I can answer back.

Sighing heavily, I replied in a daze.

Me:Where are you? How can you see me?

What I really wanted to know was how close he was and how much danger I was in.

Once again, he heard what I didn’t say and sent me exactly what I needed to hear.

X:I’m far enough away that I can’t reach you if you run into the house, but I’m close enough to stop anyone from reaching you if they try to hurt you.

Me:So you’re watching me on camera?

X:I have been. But right now…no.

Climbing to my feet, I walked slowly around the riot of blooms, herbs, and fruit trees. Every alcove and branch-filled nook looked empty, but I could feel his eyes on me wherever I went.

He didn’t message me as I did a full circle of the garden. He stayed quiet as I resumed my cross-legged position in the centre of the lawn. But the moment I sucked in a big inhale and chose to accept this, no matter how stupid and crazy and wrong, my phone chirped quietly.

X:What can I say to make you trust that I will never lay a finger on you?

Rubbing at the lingering ache in my knee where Milton had kicked me, I replied:You could tell me who you are?

X:But that would defeat the purpose I’m trying to achieve.

Me:And what are you trying to achieve?

X:Honestly?

Me:Always. In fact, if I’m going to talk to you—against better judgement and sanity—then every message you ever send me better be nothing but the truth. If you ever lie to me, I’ll drop the phone off to the police, and they can deal with you.

X:You could’ve done that last time you called them. Why didn’t you?

Me:Honestly?

X:Truth goes both ways. Question is are you brave enough?

I glanced at the moon, chewing my bottom lip. God, why did this make me feel so seen, so vulnerable, so…torn open?

He was nothing but a ghost.

And I’d done my fair share of talking to ghosts lately with Nana and Pops leaving me. I’d often wished they’d reply.

Sitting a little taller, I typed:I didn’t give the police the phone because

I looked at the moon again, searching for words that could explain the strange comfort that came from having a lifeline to a faceless, nameless stranger. He wasn’t completely human to me. He could be a guardian angel or protective warrior. In the wreckage of my mind after being at the mercy of a man I’d given my body, home, and trust to—whoever X was…he wasmore.

As long as he abided by his own rules of never approaching me, never hurting me, then he was already ten times the man Milton ever was.

My phone buzzed.

X:If I said something wrong, forgive me. I’m not asking you to tell me your deepest, darkest fears, I’m just…I don’t really know. I just want to help.

I deleted my unsent sentence and typed:Do you go around helping everyone you see in pain?

X:Because I vowed I’d never lie, my answer will sound pompous and contrite. But yes. Yes, I do. Or at least, I try to.

---