Chapter 5 Roses for Juliet

Chapter 5

It was late when he crawled into bed and his head was swimming. Steve realized the sandwich wasn't enough to cushion the amount of wine he had chased it with. Steve knew he would pay for it in the morning, but at the moment he was too relaxed to care. He burrowed into his blankets, curling up in the center of the bed. He shut his eyes and felt the world spin just a little. He pulled his blankets up a little higher and rolled into sleep. Dreams claimed him immediately.

The song slipped in before his brain could form the images to go with it. Pearl Jam, Black his brain identified. Steve crunched deeper into the covers as the song played in his wine misted head. ...And now my bitter hands...Chafe beneath the clouds...Of what was everything...Oh, the pictures have...All been washed in black...Tattooed everything...

In his mind, the years faded and the mist cleared. It was night and he was driving his ancient green Toyota down one of the back roads. Jenna was in the passenger's seat, her hand resting lightly in his as he drove. They were driving endlessly into the dark in their quest to drive down every road they had never taken.

Their random talk of philosophy, religion, politics and plans for the future filled the small space as the odometer rolled. Most of the miles put on the little green machine since Steve had bought it second hand, or more precisely third or fourth hand from a college bound neighbor, had been accrued this way.

Steve liked the way Jenna's voice sounded in the dark. Warm and full of laughter, as if the entire world was something designed for her amusement. In his sleep, Steve smiled while his dream hand gave Jenna's hand a squeeze. Jenna laughed at one of his comments and squeezed his hand back. In this place nothing but the moment mattered. Life was good and all things were possible.

Steve took a deep breath. He could smell the aftershave he had borrowed from his brother to splash on before his night out, the leather of his jacket and the perfume Jenna wore, blending light feminine scent with his more masculine one.

Baby powder and roses.

Steve swallowed hard as he identified the scent of Jenna's perfume. With nightmare slowness, Steve turned his head to look from the road to Jenna's face. His mind called forth Jenna's image; long straight dark brown hair, half smile with a dimple in her left cheek. It wasn't Jenna's face he saw when he turned. It was Juliet's. Her skin was waxy white, marred by the round black bullet hole in her forehead. Her hand gripped Steve's, her fingernails digging into his flesh. Her mouth opened and closed like a gasping fish but no sound came out.

The song switched. It was still Pearl Jam but instead of Black, the lyrics to Alive filled the small space between them. ...is something wrong...she said...of course there is...you're still alive...she said...do i deserve to be...is that the question...and if so, ...if so...who answers?...who answers?...i...i...i'm still alive...

Steve swallowed hard, the scent of the girl's perfume an almost solid presence in his throat. He tried to draw breath to scream, but found he couldn't. The scent was choking him. He felt his eyes bulge and his chest constrict. A thought floated through his mind. Alive comes before Black on the album. That song can't be right.

The thought jarred him out of the dream and he sat up in bed, panting and covered with sweat. Steve took a shaky breath and ran a hand through his damp hair. A dream. It had only been a dream.

"Shit, " he said aloud. It was still night outside but the quality of light had that odd pre-dawn look to it that let him know morning was not terribly far off. Saturday was usually his day to sleep in, but Steve knew there was no going back to sleep this morning. He slid out of bed and pulled his crumpled jeans off of the floor, sliding them on over his boxers. He buttoned them as he left his bedroom and headed downstairs. He didn't bother with a shirt.

Coffee was the first order of business. Steve took the beans from the freezer, poured them into the grinder and hit the button. The crunching sound filled the night quiet house and helped chase sleep further away. He transferred the grounds to the coffee pot and in no time the warm, rich scent of fresh coffee filled his kitchen.

As soon as there was enough for a cup, Steve utilized the pause and pour function to fill his mug before letting the rest of the pot brew in peace. Normally his first cup of the day was taken black but today needed a little sweetness and light. He added a spoonful of sugar to the cup, listening to the whooshing sound as the raw sugar crystals disappeared beneath the surface, then added a dollop of cream.

By the time he sank into his chair on the back porch he could almost sense morning's approach. The air had that heavy waiting feel to it. He took a sip of coffee and settled in to watch daylight creep into the sky. It started as gray and slowly bled to golden. As he watched the light change, Steve thought about his dream.

Rarely did his work spill into his dreams. Even rarer were dreams where the past crept up on him. Normally, his dreams were smears of color, like wet oils on a fresh canvas in an abstract design. No definite images, just the play of colors, of shadows and light in an ever changing pattern pulsing in time to his heart. He had trained himself not to even dream of the past.

"It was the perfume, " he decided. "Jenna wore the same kind as the girl, Juliet." He said it to the slowly lightening yard as if it definitively explained everything. His mind started to drift back to Jenna.

"Jenna, " he said her name softly, barely a breath of sound escaping his lips. How many years had it been since he had last allowed himself even a thought of her? Ten? Twelve years? Possibly, even longer. He could still close his eyes and feel the silky texture of her hair as he ran his fingers through it, the sweet taste of her lips on his and the electric current that ran through him every time they touched.

Steve took another sip of coffee and deliberately pushed the thoughts away. The boy that wore that biker's jacket, listened to Pearl Jam and drove his beat up car aimlessly just to see where the road might lead was gone. In his place was a man who sipped wine to Etta James and knew exactly where his shiny Lexus would take him when he turned the key in the ignition.

And Jenna, Jenna was a sweet memory that would lead him to a time best forgotten. Things lurked beneath the layer of sweet. Dark things with sharp teeth, ready to gnash and gnaw, destroying this life he had so painstakingly built. It was better to let it all go than to risk bringing everything back. His thoughts started to drift into the black. The phone rang, and despite the hour Steve was grateful for the interruption. It was better to deal with someone else's problems than to dive beneath the surface of his thoughts.

"Hello, " he answered picking up on the third ring. The sunlight had solidified its hold on the world and Steve could hear the early Saturday morning sounds of his neighborhood beginning.

"Hey man, " Nick's voice began, the words drawn out a little as he talked.

"Morning Nick, what can I do for you?"

"Morning?" Nick sounded confused. "Oh yeah morning, I just got home. I guess it is." Steve rolled his eyes, grateful that Nick couldn't see him.

"Do you need something, Nick?"

"Huh, oh yeah, you said to call." Steve mentally rifled through his internal notes loosely labeled "Conversations with Nick" to try and follow the thread of words.

"You found the girl's bag?" he asked after a moment's thought.

"Bag? No, man I didn't find it but I did find her cell phone and keys. The cell phone was charging in my bathroom and Amber found the keys in the car. Didn't you baby?" Steve could hear the lilt of a feminine voice in the background. "Yeah they slid out from under the seat. So do you want them?"

"Yes, Nick, I want them. Is this a good time to get them?" he asked thinking of Nick's guest.

"Oh yeah, now is fine, Amber wants to get the mud off first."

"Mud?"

"Yeah, she won first place."

"Congratulations, " Steve answered dryly. "I'll come and get them now, and then you two can celebrate in peace."

"Great man, thanks. Oh celebration, that means champagne. You can have a glass when you get here." Nick hung up the phone and Steve frowned at the dial tone. Shaking his head, he hung up the phone and went upstairs to grab a shirt and some shoes before heading to Nick's house.