The Year I Stopped Being Invisible - 25. Chapter 25

Linda dropped Taine off at his house first, and he slipped a sealed manila envelope into my hands before kissing me goodnight and climbing out of the car.

"Open that at home," he said. "I love you, Ricky."

"I love you, Babes," I replied. "See you tomorrow."

I climbed out of the backseat after him, jumping in the front next to Linda as we waved to Taine and drove off toward my house.

"I've made a decision," said Linda.

I looked at her expectantly, raising my eyebrows.

"I've decided," she continued, "that I like Taine. At first I thought he was a little weird because he's so shy and never talks to anybody, but I can see now that he's different around you."

"I'm glad you feel that way," I said, "because from now on, we're a package deal."

Linda smiled and glanced over at me. "You're different around him, too. You're really crazy about him, aren't you?"

"I am," I admitted happily. "He's not like anyone else I've ever met."

"He's got a lot of hurt inside," she said. "Are you sure you're up to that?"

"I hope so," I said, my fingers running over the envelope. "Somehow, I think that between me, Sly and Rex, we can take some of that pain away, or at least keep him safe while we work through it together."

"Just promise me something."

I waited, nodding.

"Just promise me you won't try to fix him. Boys are always trying to fix everything, but people aren't car engines or kitchen sinks, Rick. Just be there for him and help him to fix himself."

I pondered Linda's sage advice, and realized the distinction she was making. As she pulled her car up to the curb in front of my house, I made the promise which she had requested, and decided that I would have to keep it.

Giving Linda a goodbye peck on the cheek and thanking her for the ride, I gathered my things and made my way up the steep driveway to the garage. Had I turned around, I might have seen the broken-down black Dodge Charger slowly trailing Linda's car as she pulled away.

* * * * *

Rex's white Chevy Nova wasn't in the garage, but Tynah's car -- a matching Nova, only bright blue -- was already in its usual spot. After feeding and watering the birds, I replaced the big bag of birdseed in the garage and entered the house through the door to the kitchen.

I found Tynah reclining in the La-Z-Boy chair in the living room, still in her office attire and watching a Match Game re-run on TV. I went over to give her a hug, then sat down on the couch to watch the rest of the show with her. We didn't have much in common except for a naughty sense of humor, and the show delighted both of us with its risque questions and answers.

"Unlucky Louie said, 'My rotten luck,'" smirked host Gene Rayburn. "'I went on a diet and I lost three inches. Unfortunately, it was off my...blank."

"Hoo-ha!" Tynah giggled. "He lost it off his hoo-ha!"

I laughed and said "nose," matching only one of the six celebrity panelists, Brett Somers. To my surprise, Tynah's naughty response matched The Bob Newhart Show's Marcia Wallace, whose answer card was covered with a large digital OOPS! to appease network censors.

It was good to be laughing with Tynah again, as she hadn't shown much levity since the awful fate which had befallen our beloved dog Foxy the week before.

After snickering through the rest of the show, I went to my room to change into shorts and a t-shirt, flicking on the stereo before sitting down to do my homework. As I sat on my bed with my school books and folders in front of me, I decided to open the manila envelope which my Babes had handed me in Linda's car.

I broke the envelope's seal and was surprised as I withdrew a thick sheet of artist's drawing paper, revealing an elaborate pencil-sketch. I examined it carefully as the music played in the background.

Hello darkness, my old friend

I've come to talk with you again

I didn't even know that Taine drew, and was impressed by his work. It was definitely a very good drawing, simultaneously obscure and evocative. It showed a boy -- obviously Taine himself -- sitting in a tall, almost seven-foot-high chair in what looked to be some sort of dark, concrete room. Taine's head was downcast, and had hair long enough that it hid his face as he leaned forward in the chair.

Because a vision softly creeping

Left its seeds while I was sleeping

It almost seemed like Taine was crying, or at least that's what I thought he was doing. The perspective was from the door of this room, and a figure's shadow appeared in the dim light from the doorway as it fell across the dark cobblestone floor.

And the vision that was planted in my brain

Still remains, within the sound of silence

Because the room was so dark, not much could be seen aside from the chair, Taine, and the shadow in the doorway. There was one other feature, however. Several lengths of barbed wire, crisscrossing the floor of the room, twining up the chair and wrapping around Taine's ankles and wrists.

And not just any barbed wire.

This wire had grotesquely oversized barbs, pointed and sharp as razors, and they were digging into Taine's flesh, rivulets of dark blood streaming from the wounds down into the shadowy darkness which surrounded him.

I searched the sketch for a signature or a date, but predictably didn't find one. Taine was not the kind of artist to sign his drawings.

I studied the drawing for a while, trying to understand its meaning, but soon the emotional exhaustion of my long school day, combined with my lack of sleep and draining -- though heavenly -- physical exertions with Taine the night before, sent me into a deep, long sleep.

I dreamed about Taine's picture.

* * * * *

I was in the room with him, and he was still bound to the chair, bleeding from his wrists and ankles.

I tried to get the barbed wire off of him, but had only succeeded in getting my own arms and hands sliced up. Painfully, too. This was one of those dreams where I could feel everything. When I finally reached Taine, he looked up at me, and told me that I had to hurry if we were to escape.

I redoubled my efforts at freeing him, but that was when the door slammed shut, locking me in the darkened cell with Taine and...something else.

As the light began to fade, I heard an awful, wet laughter, low and gurgling.

Taine whispered, "It's here, Ricky. It knows you're with me now, and it won't let you go."

The slobbering laughter had moved to just behind my neck then, and I felt the barbed wire slithering around my ankles, my wrists...

When I felt the wire tighten around my balls, I tried to scream, but no sound had come out. That was when I felt the hot breath on my neck, and the laughter suddenly ceased.

Taine looked at me with sad eyes.

"It has us now," he said.

* * * * *

I awoke with a start and took a moment to shake off an eerie, disturbing dream. I was under the covers, and it was dark in my room. The stereo had been turned off, and my books had been moved to the desk in the corner. Tynah must have come in and found me asleep, and done all this while I was dead to the world.

I glanced over at the clock-radio on my nightstand, which read 1:11 a.m.

I remembered hearing something about how you were supposed to say a prayer for the one you love at 1:11, and it would be answered. Staring into the darkness of my room, I began to pray for Taine.

Then I prayed for myself.

And, finally, I saved my most heartfelt prayers for that new, fragile being called "Us."