Page 27 of Tied

“Nope.”

“Fine. Then don’t expect to be on the phone chain when the call goes out.”

“Fair enough.”

“Well, Chris, I gotta go. Sleep is calling me to a pillow that has my name on it. Really. My name is. On. It.”

“I’ll bet. Rich n’ Famous. Night, love. Have good dreams. Kiss the girls goodnight for me.”

“Night, Chris. Take care.”

I look at my watch to find it’s seven-thirty in the morning. I’ve made it through the night between the failed attempt at release and a good conversation with Carli. Where did the time go? Hanging up, the room is silent once more. I’ve never been good at silence. Dragons, Gargoyles, and giant Octopuses I could handle, but the demons in my head that rest near the surface when I sit alone remind me of a time in the desert. Ghosts of the past. Ghosts of good men.

Maybe that’s why I’ve never been good alone. They cloy at my skin to seek out my sanity. And sex? The arms of another holds them at bay, even if only for a moment.

Closing my eyes will only bring them forth, so even though I was told to stay put, I can’t. Rising from the chair, I start for the door, telling myself I’ll just blend in. I’m only one black man in New York. I won’t be that noticeable.

The lies we tell ourselves, and three thousand more obvious fibs that we hope to get away with.

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