Chapter 6

There was a squirrel sitting on a tree that Adam could see from a window in his office. The way it sat perplexed him and filled him with an undefined tension: it remained completely still. Not even its tail twitched. It sat at an awkward angle, one that should’ve caused it to tip backward and fall out of the tree. Yet, somehow, there it remained, sitting at a 60 degree angle, not moving so much as an inch. He’d never seen a squirrel so still. They usually scurried quickly out of sight. But this one just kept sitting there.

            He must have been standing in front of the window watching it for an hour, because he’d caught sight of it at around 7:30 that morning, and now Larisa was knocking on his office’s door to check in on him. It was Wednesday, her day off. On Wednesdays, she always woke up at 8:00 and checked on him at 8:30, after showering. Thus, he felt safe in assuming that he’d been staring out of the window for at least an hour.

            When Larisa got no answer, she decided to stick her head in anyway, and he imagined that it alarmed her to see him standing so close to the door, engrossed in the tree outside. He heard her step closer, and there was a long moment of silence before she finally spoke.

            “Honey? What are you looking at?”

            “Look,” he said, and pointed at the squirrel. “You see that?”

            “See what?”

            “That squirrel.”

            Judging by the silence, he imagined that she had furrowed her brows in confusion. Then, she told him, “Um, I don’t see any squirrel.”

            “It’s at a weird angle,” he commented, not taking in her words. Perplexed still, he scratched at his beard and hummed thoughtfully. “I don’t even think that’s physically possible, the way it’s sitting . . .”

            “Well . . . I mean . . . It’s a squirrel. Squirrels . . . do that.”

            “But it’s not moving. At all. Like, ‘I’m starting to think it might be dead or something’ degree of ‘not moving’.”

            He heard Larisa throw her hands up in exasperation. “This is the man I married,” she hissed at herself. “I married a man who worries about a squirrel because it’s not moving. This is the man I chose to have in my life.”

            Adam finally turned his head, but only to glare at her. “Yeah,” he said, embittered, “I’m the man you married.”

            Larisa stared at him, eyes wide. She retained eye contact with him, but was clearly taken aback by his tone. Then, she averted her eyes from him and couldn’t manage to look at him again as she affirmed, “Yes, you are. I wasn’t complaining or anything.” She wrung her hands.

            Adam said nothing. He turned back to the window to see the squirrel again, but it was gone. Its sudden disappearance somehow disturbed him more than its unusual stillness seconds beforehand.

            “Listen,” Larisa began, “you didn’t go to work yesterday. Considering you’re half an hour late, I assume you’re not going today, either?”

            “No,” Adam answered. Instead of looking at her again, he pressed himself closer to the window and tried to figure out where the squirrel had run off to. “I already called Jesse and told him that I’m staying home again to keep working on the video.”

            “Good.” She still sounded a bit unnerved by his strange behavior. “Um, I need you to go to the store for me today. I’d do it, but I have some work to finish on my laptop . . .”

            “Sure,” he told her, though his tone was anything but pleasant. “What do you need me to get?”

            There was another pause, but he couldn’t tell if it was because she was staring at him or if she was thinking. He got his answer when she asked, “What on Earth are you doing?”

            “The squirrel,” he reminded her.

            “There is no”—she cut herself off with a huff before getting back on topic. “I need eggs, sugar, coffee—”

            “You know what? Write it down for me. I won’t remember anything you’re saying.”

            “Because you’re too preoccupied with a non-existent squirrel,” he heard her say under her breath. “Fine. I’ll go write a list.” She stepped closer and kissed him on the cheek, and after doing so, noticed his hard frown. Meek, she mumbled, “I, uh, love you.” Then, she left his office.

            He heard her go downstairs a few minutes later, but he didn’t pay much attention to her. Instead, he continued searching for the evanesced squirrel.

* * *

The video was going well, but still he didn’t know how to end it. So, in the meantime, he decided to work on the design of the characters.

            Trauma’s burlap sack had stayed. Big and bulky in body shape, he wore only a pale blue hospital smock. In truth, his attire was designed to be a red herring, to lure people into thinking that he was a representation of illness.

            Madness was slender and pale. His hair, neck-length and parted to the left, was black, and he was clean-shaven. His attire was comprised of an expensive, tailed black suit. It was very Hollywood-esque, with an off-white scarf draped over the shoulders and a black silk bowtie, topped off with black leather dress shoes. Adam wasn’t sure why he’d wanted to make Madness look like a rich man, though he must’ve had a reason deep down.

            He based Sanity’s appearance off of Larisa. Like his wife, her hair was brown, but done up in a low ponytail that reached her back. She wore a pale brown jacket buttoned over her left breast. It had a high collar, medium-length sleeves, and a belt tightening it around her waistline. She also wore a long, tight, matching skirt. Mid-forearm length white gloves graced her hands. Her shoes were cinnamon brown high-heeled loafers, accented by full-length white stockings.

            Though he had the character designs done and had added the respective details to the storyboard, he couldn’t progress until he had an ending. This lack of productivity bothered him. He had to figure out what to do before the day ended.

            Larisa returned upstairs while he was idly refining the lines on a frame of Sanity. She didn’t comment on the resemblance to herself (maybe she didn’t see it?). Instead, she handed Adam a piece of paper: the shopping list.

            “I’ll go now,” he told her, and stood up.

            “You don’t have to,” said Larisa as she brushed her hair out of her face. She hadn’t put on much makeup today, and it was a tad unusual seeing her without her brown lipstick and eye shadow. She’d applied her mascara, he noticed, despite having nowhere to go.

            “I need some fresh air anyway,” he told her.

            She looked him in the eye for a long moment before shrugging. “Works for me.”

            Already dressed in a black t-shirt and his jeans, Adam went downstairs. He grabbed the car keys, put on his boots, and stepped outside. When he realized that it was once again pouring rain, he ducked back inside to grab his coat.

            “Be careful,” called his wife from upstairs. “I love you!”

            He forced himself to respond, “Love you, too,” before closing the door behind himself and locking it.

            Never thought a day would come where I’d have difficulty telling Larisa that I love her.

            He got into the car and let out a long sigh as he buckled himself in.

* * *

On the way to the store, Adam had to stop at the tracks for a passing train. It only took sixty seconds to pass him, but for one reason or another, he didn’t move for another two minutes.

            He liked these train tracks. He wasn’t sure why, but he did.

            Is it the idea of freedom? The idea that, one of these days, I could hop onto one of these trains and leave my current life behind? Maybe that’s it. What else is there?

            He looked to his left.

            I like the view, though it’s nothing special. Mostly a lot of trees and some houses. But I can see more of the sky here than anywhere else in this part of Chicago. I wonder, if I followed these tracks, where would they take me? Is there anything out there for me? Would anybody miss me?

            He looked at the steering wheel.

            I sound like I’m having a mid-life crisis . . . Am I having a mid-life crisis?

* * *

The list contained the following items, in no particular order: sugar, coffee, milk, pepper, chicken breasts, toilet paper, butter, and “random”. The last was a request for a random item for them to share; Larisa always added it to her lists if she sent him to do the shopping. As he paced the isles, looking at the list, he decided that today’s random item would be a can of escargot. It wasn’t “random” per se, since he picked it because he kept seeing it and it always made him curious, but it would do.

            Dutifully, his body went around the store collecting the items on the list. All the while, his mind ran circles over the video.

            How to end it . . . Kill her? No, too grim. She convinces Trauma to let her go? No, too unrealistic. Hmm . . . She defeats Trauma and has to fight Madness?

            He was about to head for the checkout when, staring at the list, he suddenly felt like something was missing. His gut was telling him that there was something that Larisa had said to him that she’d forgotten to write down.

            “I need . . .” He tried to recite to himself what she’d said that morning. “I need . . . eggs, sugar . . .” His eyes widened. “Eggs. Eggs, that was it.”

            So, he headed over to the dairy section. At the far end were the eggs, and he picked up a carton. He opened it and skimmed over the eggs to make sure that none had broken or anything. As he nodded to himself and put the eggs into his basket, he heard someone gasp nearby, and then footsteps were approaching him. He tried not to think anything of it until the footsteps stopped right in front of him.

            “Oh my Gosh,” gushed a young female voice. “Adam?”

            He took the stranger in piece by piece, starting from her dark brown, light beige-soled boots and puffy white socks. She wore black capris, and a long-sleeved lavender shirt, over which she wore a long, dark purple t-shirt. Around her neck was a puffy green scarf. Her platinum blonde hair was short—about mid-neck length—and it puffed out on the sides of her head with great volume. It looked as soft as silk. Slathered in lip gloss, her lips were a pale pink color. Her blue eyes, accented by cat-eyed eyeliner and a small amount of mascara, seemed to glitter. A slightly darker shade of blond than her hair were her eyebrows, arched in pleasure.

            She was a small girl, only standing at about five feet three inches. And though the makeup made her look three years older, he knew that without it she would only look to be sixteen. After taking in the sight of her, he knew exactly who she was, but found himself unable to speak.

            “I knew it! I knew we shopped at the same store!” Evangeline clapped her hands softly in an excited flutter. “I’m so happy to see you!” Then, she threw herself at him and hugged him. Her arms were unable to wrap around him all the way, and he felt both of her small hands on either side of his back.

            “Oh . . . Evangeline. Uh, hello.” He wasn’t sure of what to say, or do, for that matter. He didn’t return the hug, but also didn’t push her off of himself—half of him wanted to, but the other half kind of liked the sudden affection. She soon pulled back on her own accord and beamed up at him with her youthful, pretty face.

            “Eve,” she insisted with a smile. Then, she asked “How are you?” with her hands behind her back as she wobbled herself gently.

            Adam stammered for a few seconds, unable to remember how to speak. His eyes remained fixed on Evangeline, at least until he shook his head and finally came back to his senses. “Um, yeah.” He paused, remembering her question. “Yeah, I’m, uh, I’m doing good.” Paused again. “Well. I’m doing well. You?”

            She giggled and twirled her hair around her finger. “My day’s a lot better now.”

            “Why?” He wanted to slap himself, but didn’t. “Oh, right. Because you . . . Wait, really?”

            She nodded. When she noticed his basket, she asked, “Do you want me to get you a cart?”

            “Hmm?”

            “Your basket seems kind of full, and if you’re getting more . . .”

            He glanced down at his basket and finally remembered why he was there in the first place. “Oh, no. I, uh. I was about to leave, actually.”

            Her dissatisfaction was clear when her mouth puckered into a tiny frown. “Were you?”

            “Yeah . . . But it was nice meeting you, Evangeline.”

            “Please, call me Eve.”

            Adam tried not to let his anxiety get the best of him. “. . . Eve, then.” He was about to turn, but she stopped him.

            “Hey, umm, listen,” she began. “Are you doing anything tonight?”

            Confused, Adam narrowed his eyes.

            Is she asking me out right now?

            “I know of a cool little restaurant, and if you haven’t been to it before, I’d love to introduce you.”

            She’s asking me out right now.

            “Oh. Well, uh, that’s sweet, but . . .” He glanced down at his wrist to look at the time, but then remembered that he hadn’t worn a watch in years.  “Oh.” Embarrassed now, he instead raised the hand up and rubbed the back of his head. “Thank you for the offer, Evang—err, Eve, but I’m . . .”

            Do I use Larisa as an excuse? Or do I mention the video? Already, Evangeline seemed disappointed. The video seems like the safer option.

            “. . . I’m going to be working all night.”

            Her sad blue eyes then sparkled with excitement. “On a new video?”

            “Yeah. I’m almost finished with storyboarding, so I’m afraid that’s going to be keeping me busy tonight.”

            Evangeline giggled and again twirled a lock of platinum hair around her skinny index finger. She waved her other hand dismissively. “Oh, that’s all right. Maybe some other time. I wouldn’t want to get in the way of your work, especially when I’m so excited to see what you’re making this time!”

            He smiled at her, and then felt a rush of panic as he realized—I have no clue how to end this conversation. Do I walk away now? I can’t do that; that’d be rude, wouldn’t it?

            Lucky for him, Evangeline said, “I’ve got to run and get a few things before I checkout. I’ll see you!”

            “Bye,” he managed to say. He waited until she turned her back before shivering. Then, he headed for the checkout himself.

            The lines were long, but not unbearable. As he made it to the front of his line and pulled out his wallet, the man in front of the next checkout left, and into his place stepped Evangeline. She pivoted her torso a bit to pull her wallet from her back right pocket. As she did, she locked eyes with him and gave him a coy, love-struck smile. He stared back as he felt a chill run down his spine. Something about her unsettled him even in person.

            She left first, walking past him, playing cool as she did. He was so unnerved that when it came time to pay with his card, he input his own PIN wrong twice.

            As he walked out of the store, he tried to focus instead on the video, but that was much harder than he expected. He put the grocery bags in the trunk and let out an anxious sigh.

* * *

It wasn’t until he drove past the train tracks again that he noticed the car trailing behind him. It kept its distance, but it was rare for him to see anyone else while driving this way. So, its mere presence was enough to tip him off to the fact that he was being followed. Despite this, he tried to remain calm.

            Why would anyone follow me from the store? I didn’t buy too much. My car doesn’t look expensive. I don’t seem rich, or otherwise worth robbing. It’s got to be some sort of a coincidence.

            Trying to push his paranoia aside, he continued driving home. The vehicle followed him all the way to his house, so to be safe, he decided to keep driving. When he finally did stop the car, he did so on the other side of the street. Sure enough, the pursuing vehicle drove past him and disappeared around a corner.

            He sat in complete stillness for about five minutes before starting the engine again and making a U-turn back onto his side of the street. Then, he parked in his driveway. After he turned off the engine once more, he spent a few minutes in silence, pondering on what had happened.

            It has to have been some sort of mistake . . . Then, a thought occurred to him. Unless it was Evangeline?

            Of course. It had to be her. Her infatuation with him must have led her to follow him home. With her curiosity sated, that would be the end of it. She wouldn’t use this information for anything. What did she even have to use it for? To show up at his house one day, out of the blue? He doubted that she would do that; even though something about her seemed off, she did seem like a clever girl. She had to be aware that doing anything reckless would have no benefit. She liked him, that was all.

            Maybe she wants to send me something, but felt that asking for my address would’ve been too awkward . . . Not that her stalking me on my way home didn’t nearly give me a heart attack.

            With that, Adam decided to dismiss the troubling event and go about his day as if it had never happened. His only hope was that nothing would come of it.