Page 56 of In a Haze

When he joins me at the end of the hall, he says, “Anna, I’m here with you for the long haul, but just tell me your game plan. I—” Cutting himself off, his head turns quickly toward the corridor outside the glass where we came from earlier, and I can’t help but look as well, just in time to see the guard walking past here again. Without further hesitation, Joe grabs my shoulders and moves us both out of sight. The area here isn’t really a hallway, but it’s more open. Not only is the elevator here in this space, but next to it is a door with a sign that saysStairs. On one end is a beautiful floor to ceiling window looking over the downtown area, lit up like no one ever sleeps. On the other end, where Joe and I are standing, is a bathroom and another door.

We hear the click of the lock way at the end of the hall.

Joe turns the knob on the unmarked door and pulls me inside, quietly closing the door behind us. In here, it’s completely dark, and faint chemical odors linger in the air, reminding me of the way the women’s bathroom sometimes smells. Even behind that door, we can hear the heel of the guard’s polished black shoes as they make their way closer to us.

The sound becomes even more pronounced when he enters the open area. In this room, I can hear us breathing, even though we’re not that loud, and my heart is beating hard in my chest, but I’m not panicking.

“Hello? Doc?” His footsteps head our way and I just know he’s going to open the door.

The question is what will we do when he does?

20

Clack. Clack. Clack. Clack. One step after another brings the guard closer to us.

It’s then that I notice Joe’s arms around me, holding me close as if to protect me. I don’t dare struggle to get out of his embrace, because then the guard will hear us for certain.

A door opens—but it’s not this one. After a few seconds, I hear the sound of a steady stream of urine spraying into a toilet, so it confirms where the guard went. The question is if he’ll look here or anywhere else when he’s done. I consider escaping this hot acrid room but the sound might give us away, so, like Joe, I stand silent.

Finally, he flushes. As he washes his hands, I wonder if we can hear it so well because we’re in this closet or if it’s because it’s night and everything’s asleep.

Our door rattles as the other one closes, but I don’t hear any steps. None.

I’m sure by now the jig is up—but I’mnotpanicking. Instead, I’m waiting to hear him walking again.

After a few seconds, the clacking sound of his shoes resumes—going the other way. Slowly, I let out a long sigh of relief. We continue huddling in silence for what feels like hours until, at last, we hear the door way at the end of the hall close.

When I start to move, Joe whispers. “Wait.”

“Why?”

“Just to be sure.”

Although I’m impatient, I know he’s right. We stand there a long time, long enough that I begin to feel perspiration forming under my arms and the waistband of my sweatpants. Finally, Joe says, “I think we’re safe.” I feel his hand reach past me, feeling for the doorknob. I still can’t see anything in here except for a very faint line at the bottom of the door, but it’s not enough to illuminate anything inside the closed space.

When he opens the door, it seems almost bright in that open area, and the exit sign hanging from the ceiling seems to stick out like a sore thumb. I take a deep breath of fresher air before looking behind me. As I close the door, I confirm that we’ve been standing in a custodian’s closet full of cleaning supplies and equipment.

Joe turns from where he’s been peeking down the hall. “Coast is clear.” I nod and begin walking toward the elevator. “Anna, talk to me. Where are you going?”

“That girl, Joe. That girl in my dream, Claudia. My husband holds the answer. I know he does.”

“So you’re going to confront him?”

“No. I need to go to his office—or maybe our house—to see if I can find evidence or something, some proof.”

“And how are you gonna get there?”

“I don’t know. I’ll figure it out.”

“Then I’m coming with you.”

“I don’t want you to. I can’t trust you anymore.”

“Anna, you can,” he says, putting his hands on my shoulders. “Some of the shit I did for your husband was questionable—including coming here to the center just to watch you. But you gotta believe me. All this time trapped here with you, I fell in love with you. That’s the main reason why I wanted you to stop taking your meds. I knew they were fucking with your brain—and I wanted to get to know therealyou.”

I still hesitate, unable and unwilling to believe him, but he drowns me in a kiss and, for but a moment, I forget all that. My heart loves him back and wants him no matter what. My head—that brain he woke up by getting me to defy doctor’s orders—well, that’s the very thing working against him at the moment.

I don’t profess any sort of emotion for him. Instead, when his lips release mine, I say, “Then let’s go.” When I press the elevator button with the arrow pointing down, it lights up.

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