t was dark and heavy in the room. I could feel it even as I approached it. The room seemed like a black hole where no light or object or feeling could escape if it got too close. I stepped across the threshold and felt the tightness around my throat begin. Pressure behind my eyes and in my head gave me the impression that I was deep under water. Two more steps in the door and I could no longer breathe. The tightness around my neck and in my head was suffocating. No air could escape my throat to scream or make any sound at all. The sound in my ears deadened and I felt more than heard a strange humming throughout my whole body. My limbs were heavy and it took all my effort to move further into the room as though I were a magnet being repelled by the matching pole of another giant magnet. Finally I could take no more. The strangling feeling around my throat and pressure in my head forced me to back out of the room. Sound returned to my ears, my limbs could move again and I was able to breathe freely once more.
Sighing heavily, I hugged my arms around my
chest to comfort myself and turned from the black hole room. The room had always drawn me to it, and
created fear in me at the same time.
Haunting memories in bits and pieces would sometimes return to me of
spending time in that room with someone else.
But those memories were so fleeting that I could never fully grasp the
images.
Walking away from the pulsing darkness of the
room I moved into a larger, more open room, dimly lit. Darkness seemed to be everywhere in this
strange place I lived, but it was all I’d ever known. Or at least that’s what it seemed like. An attendant stood behind a counter on the
far side of the cave-like, domed room.
She busied herself cleaning the surface and putting dishes away. This attendant was one of many that worked
the counter. I knew them all well, and
yet did not know them at the same time.
Memories pushed at the back of my eyes, straining to be seen. At once I knew there had been more to my life
than this, but almost instantly the push of recollection ceased. Frustrated, I frowned and moved to sit at the
counter. The attendant turned to me and
smiled.
“I saved some sandwiches for you if you’re
hungry.”
“Thanks,” I replied.
She stopped her cleaning and turned to face me
fully. “He’ll call today, I’m sure of
it.”
I attempted a smile and met her eyes with a look
of hope and despair all mixed together.
Just then, the phone at the far end of the counter began ringing. The attendant smiled at me and crossed to
retrieve the phone. Without answering
it, she passed it to me.
“Hello?” I waited for the familiar voice on the
other end of the line that I hoped to hear.
Yet, I couldn’t picture any face to go with the voice and that troubling
thought made my brow crease.
“I know you were hoping for a different call,
but I wanted to let you know that he said to tell you not to worry and that he
will call soon.” The despair in my chest
rose until it swelled in a mighty tidal wave over the hope that remained. This voice was not the one I had wanted to
hear.
“You said that last time. He said he would call soon.” I tried to keep the bitterness out of my
voice, not sure why I was so disappointed when I wasn’t even certain who it was
that I hoped to hear from.
It had always been like this. There had always been two callers: Him #1 and Him #2. Without knowing who he was, Him #1 felt like
a father to me, albeit an absent one.
Him #2 on the other hand was much more.
He was my everything, and yet I knew him not at all. The calls from the Hims were the only things
to sustain me in this dark and lonely place.
“I know.”
Him #1’s voice soothed from the telephone receiver. “I promise.
He will call next time. He’s been
busy and knows it must be hard for you.”
Something like a choked laugh escaped my
throat. For a moment I felt as though I
were back in the black hole room. “I
don’t think he knows anything about me at all.”
My voice dripped like poison darts that I hoped would reach all the way
across the line and pierce the heart of the unknown man who spoke to me. The disappointment of another missed call was
almost more than I could take in this dark and suffocating place. Blinking back tears, I let my eyes roam the
room. The walls were blank and dark,
just like my mind.
“Of course he knows you. He knows you better than anyone.” Him #1 soothed. “Be patient.”
And with that the line went dead just like the last sparkle of hope in
my chest.
Numbly, I replaced the phone to its cradle. Turning back to the counter, all I found was
a sandwich. The attendant had left,
leaving me alone again.
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