Page 55 of Chasing Fireflies

“Oh, you’re going to get upset at me? What about the motorcycle you bought, Cash? You didn’t talk to me about it. You just bought it, and I didn’t flip out on you.”

“I thought it would make you happy, baby. Plus, that was before redoing the house drained us.”

I sigh and look out the window. “Can you just take me home, please?” I see him shake his head before he starts the truck. The ride back is quiet, and once we make it home, we carry the bags inside.

“I’m heading over to Mark’s for a bit. I’ll be back in a little while.” He grabs his keys and looks back at me. “Okay?” he asks.

“Okay.”

He walks out, and I close my eyes and grip the countertop behind me when the door shuts. I decide to take a nap. The covers welcome me, and the darkness in my room comforts my mind and mood. Sometime later sleep takes over.

*

Cash

I lift my arm and quickly bring it back down onto the piece of wood in front of me. Snow falls, and it’s freezing here. Mark told me not to worry about cutting up any more, but I need to get this anger out. I’m pissed. I’m pissed off at my wife. I’m pissed off at myself. I should have been more careful. I should have hidden our credit cards from her. But that pisses me off more because I shouldn’t have to hide shit from her. She is my wife. My partner.

Lifting my arm again, I slam down hard onto the firewood. It splits one piece, becoming two halves, separating and falling away from each other. I step back and look at the two splintered pieces of oak. Sara’s disorder is the ax, and we are the logs. I blink my eyes and look around at the white snow that covers the ground. I feel how cold it is and see the smoke coming from my mouth. I toss the ax away from me. Fuck that ax.

*

Sara

I jump awake and look over at the clock. It’s two in the morning, and I still feel tired. Cash sleeps soundly beside me, and I toss the covers off and rake a hand through my hair. Looking out, I see the glow of the moonlight shining against the night sky. The frosty windows creak, and a chill runs over my arms as the wind howls outside. I touch my toes to the hardwood. I see the deep hole my mind wants to crawl into, and every part of me is fighting to stay out of it. The bottom of my foot touches the floor, and I stand up and walk to the closet. I slip my boots on and a coat over my nightgown. A scarf mindlessly goes around my neck, and without much thought, I walk down the stairs and out the front door.

*

Cash

My eyes blink open, and I run a hand over my face. I reach over and feel that the bed is empty. Looking to the clock, I see it’s almost three in the morning. “Sara.”

She doesn’t answer, and I get up. After I check the bathroom and see she isn’t there, I run down the stairs and look in the kitchen. “Sara,” I call out into the house. Panic is a sudden form of fear or anxiety, but this in my chest is worse when I see the door is unlocked. I slip my boots on and grab my coat. Zipping it up, I open the door and heavy snow and painfully cold wind greet me. “Sara!” I look out into the yard. It’s dark, so I run back inside and grab my flashlight. I turn it on and point it to the ground, searching for her tracks. Moving it back and forth, I see them and quickly follow. My feet move as quickly as they can, but it’s hard to see with the snow blowing around me. My pajamas are soaked at the bottom, and the wetness is crawling up my legs, making my teeth chatter. I point the flashlight toward the old tree in the field and see her.

She’s walking under it where the snow isn’t so thick. My heart falls at the sight of her out here. The snow blows around her. Her arms are crossed, and she mindlessly wanders. What can she be thinking? What is going on in her mind? I take off running toward her. I run as fast as I can until I’m close enough to scoop her up into my arms. “Baby.”

She stills in my arms, and her body shakes from tears I don’t have to see to know are falling. I turn her around and look at her face. Her nose and cheeks are rosy red. I cradle her against my chest and walk back, trying to keep her warm and not fall at the same time. Once I’m at the door, I kick it open and put her down on the couch.

Quickly, I take some logs and toss them into the fireplace. Lighting it as fast as I can, I grab some pillows off the couch and put them in front of it. Taking my coat off, I walk over to a spaced-out Sara and remove her boots and then her coat. She looks ahead, not seeming to be focused on anything, but everything at once. I can tell her mind is racing, and she can’t keep up with its speed. “Come down here, baby. I’ve got to get you warm.” She lets me pull her down to the floor, and I sit behind her on the pillows, wrapping my arms around her waist and holding her tight. I kiss the top of her hair and rest my chin on her head as I look at the flames in the fireplace. The wood crackles, and my heart won’t stop pounding.

“I’m a burning house,” she murmurs.

“What, Sara?” I ask.

“I’m a burning house, and you’re stuck inside. Soon I won’t be anything but ash, and I’m going to take you right down with me,” she cries. This time I can’t find the words to comfort her because they are stuck in my throat along with tears I won’t let fall.

Chapter Seventeen

Cash

“I can’t watch her. I have to go to work. Can you please come out?”

“Of course,” Debbie says. “I’ll be there tomorrow.”

“Thanks.” I hang up the phone and look out the window. Snow continues to fall, but it’s not the storm outside I’m worried about. It’s the one inside my wife’s head. Sara has gone into a deep depression. She’s sleeping soundlessly on the couch. I won’t take my eyes off of her unless someone else’s are on her. The power went out last night but came back on this morning. The fire has kept the living room warm, but every other part of the house is playing catch-up. I walk over to the coffeepot and pour myself a cup.

Surprisingly, Sara woke up to take her medication earlier, but she immediately went back to sleep. Taking a sip of my coffee, I daydream out the window. I hear a car pull up outside, so I put the cup down and walk to the front door. I slide one hand into my pocket and open the door with the other. Chilly wind blows in from outside, and I place my other hand in to keep warm.

“Hey.” Leigh is in a good mood, but her best friend isn’t.

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