And then a crushing wail so corporeal it was like Annie could see its form, painted a reddish-gold behind her eyelids. It was her wail, from her tender-most point of self, thrashing its way up and out of her mouth. And she has to get up. Must. So she did, finally, her body betraying her with all its white-hot fury.

When she got to the bathroom, shadowy in the blue-black darkness, she again saw the pain before it came out, a smoke-singed monster with no eyes, waving its many limbs at her, scraping out, out, out.

And then, of course, there was the red, the viscous clotted balls the devil had taken from her as it exited, dangling scraps of flesh stuck in its fangs. And when it had gotten what it wanted out, robbed her of all that she was worth, she fell asleep, her head lolling beside the toilet, the tips of her orange hair tracing the carcass in the bowl, which lay there, unmoving, like her own exhausted frame, for the rest of the night.

35

“Back away a little bit. You’re scaring me,” Gavin calls through the wind. The plunge isn’t too steep. I’d maybe break a leg if I jumped, nothing more. But I back away as he asks, turning to grin at his figure, clad in an old leather jacket I recognize from high school and roughed-up sneakers. But he’s studying the map now, biting his fingertip like he always does when he’s trying to focus, and I smile even harder. Even though the sun is about to go down, the Hudson Valley air getting more and more frigid, the gray light slowly darkening.

We’re at Opus 40, a sculpture park in Saugerties, New York, that Gavin wanted to check out on our big weekend away. It’s vast and ruin-like, Stonehenge miniatures dotting portions of the landscape. A monolithic stone stands erect at the focal point of the many rocky paths spiraling their way around the property. Toward my left, away from the precipice on which I stand, an icy pool of water beckons. I imagine that when the grass isn’t frozen, when the mountains are highlighted by the sky, this place is beautiful.

Right now, though, it seems haunted, occupied only by a couple of college students roasting marshmallows over an uncovered grill. They offered us some, but we declined, still full from lunch. Gavin wanders over to join me and wraps me in a hug, resting his chin lightly on my head, his lips tickling my red, uncovered ear.