Chapter Twenty-Seven

I woke up the next morning not looking forward to the day. I was going back to work, and that meant leaving Charles by himself for about six hours. He hadn't given any indication over the last couple days that there was anything to be worried about, but I couldn't stop replaying the first scene to which I'd returned after he showed up: Charles hunched over, his entire body shuddering with the effort to dispel the creature he had seen in my painting. I didn't imagine that image would leave me anytime soon, but today it was especially unnerving.

I had told him the night before what today's plans were, had made sure Charles knew I wouldn't be here. He insisted he would be fine, and actually did a fair job of convincing me. He was doing better, he reminded me, and the fact that he wasn't averse to talking about the situation was reassuring. Still, after the conversation, he seemed a little further distant; his eyes appeared to be looking through whatever was in front of them, either to something far off or something very close that no one else could see. I decided not to press the issue; there was nothing else I could do.

In an effort to help Charles keep his mind off the situation - what Dr. Lee would probably call an avoidance technique - I left him a twenty dollar bill and encouraged him to get whatever he wanted for dinner. There were a few restaurants in walking distance of the apartment and a grocery store just a few blocks away if he decided he wanted to make something himself.

As casually as I could, I mentioned that I had left my cell phone number next to the apartment phone but that I wouldn't have it with me while I was on the clock. We both knew what I was implying, I'm sure, but we did a good job of feigning mutual ignorance. I told him again I would be back just a little after 8 and stepped outside, leaving him in the care of the television. I shut the door slowly and watched it for a moment after it clicked shut. It felt like I had just handed in a project I wasn't sure was finished.

Getting in the car, I thought back on something Charles had told me while recounting how he had gotten to this point in his life: that he had used the other dimension as a place where he was supposed to be alone, that being alone didn't feel so bad when that was how things were meant to be. Even with all the convincing both he and I had done in preparation for today, I couldn't help imagining him slipping back into that way of thinking.

Still watching the apartment's front porch, I started the car.