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Back At Dawn Save as PDF
Chapters (39)
  1. Cover
  2. Title Page
  3. Dedication
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  39. Copyright

I called Carolyn again at seven. She didn’t answer. My face and arms were hot with perspiration, and the occasional bead of sweat trickled down my spine. Early in the summer, I had noticed a direct correlation between the heat and the tracks: the higher the humidity, the more powerful the creosote, which, at its worst, smelled like a burning mound of tar. It was making me nauseated and I was already irritated by the humidity and the perpetual sweat, and when I called Carolyn for the umpteenth time and her voicemail kicked on, I was feeling up to the task of leaving a long-winded, curse-laden rant telling her to go fuck herself and to not bother coming home, but thankfully, for reasons beyond me and for a split second only, the piercing beep snapped me back from the jaws of rage and allowed me to quietly press END.

To celebrate what I took to be a moral victory, I made a whiskey over ice, then a second, then a third, and by ten o’clock, I had polished off five. I kept calling Carolyn, continued getting her voicemail. I placed a pillow in a convenient spot on the bed and then I slugged it over and over as hard as I could with my right hand. Afterward, I was breathing heavily and sweating like a pig. Then I did it again, using both hands this time, and this resulted only in making me feel like an idiot while causing even more sweat to ooze from every pore. I undressed and moved to plan B; I popped a Xanax and drank it down with whiskey number six. It took a long time to kick in, and I lay there waiting, trying in vain not to dwell on where in the hell my girlfriend was and with whom she was out doing it.

thirty-two

1

I SLEPT THROUGH THE night and woke to an empty bed. It was nine. I checked my phone. No missed calls, no text messages, nothing. Carolyn hadn’t come home, hadn’t even called. I leapt out of bed and flew headfirst into a frenzy, knowing this time there’d be no pulling me away from fury’s comforting arms. I dialed her number. It went straight to voicemail, forcing me to listen to her recorded voice, waiting for the beep.

“Where are you?” I screamed into the phone. Then I called right back. Again, the same thing. I started pacing and began to sweat, or maybe I was already sweating. I called Starbucks, though I knew she wasn’t working, and they told me as much. I wanted to ask for the other girl, the one Carolyn had said she was out with, but I couldn’t remember her name.