Cabin Fever

“Jeremy, listen, I have to tell you something.” Time to share my ghostly encounters. They’re starting to creep me out.

  The flash of white is suddenly followed by black. It’s like a dark curtain is closing over my left eye. “Ahhh!” I shriek, trying to get away from whatever is coming after me, losing my grip on my cell phone.

  “What’s that?” I hear him say as the phone hits the counter.

  No matter where I look, the black is there. It’s halfway over my eye. I reach out to bat at it, push it away, but my fingers touch nothing.

  “Jeremy!” I yell, frozen in panic.

  His voice sounds as if it’s coming from really far away. “Sarah? Sarah? Are you okay?”

  I locate the phone with my one good eye and hold it to my ear, shaking all over. It’s coming for me. A ghost. Something.

  “Sarah! Talk to me!”

  “I’m here. I’m here.” My voice is trembling. “Something’s wrong.”

  “What? Is someone there? What’s going on? Talk to me!” He sounds angry and worried.

  “I’ve been seeing your wife’s ghost and now I think she’s trying to hurt me!” I keep turning left, trying to see what’s coming after me, but every time I move, it moves too, just out of range.

  “What?”

  “Jeremy help me!”

  “Is this some kind of joke? Because I’m not finding it very funny, Sarah.”

  “Jeremy I would never joke about something like this!” The black moves closer. “Ahhhh! Help!” I run across the room and jump onto the couch, burying myself under the blanket. I can sense Jaws next to me, trying to join me in the dark, but I’m too scared to move.

  “Sarah!” I hear the voice down by my waist and I realize I’m clenching the phone in my fist. I put it up to my ear.

  “I’m here.” I whisper, afraid the ghost will find me again.

  “What in the hell is going on over there?”

  I start to cry at the anger in his voice and the fear I have for my life and sanity. I’ve never experienced a psychological break before, but if this is what’s happening, I’m going to check myself into mental institution and get myself on some serious meds, stat. I’m terrified.

  “I don’t know, Jeremy, I don’t know,” I say, practically crying. “I saw your wife’s ghost a few times and she talked to me. That’s why I called you after I texted you. I knew it was stupid, that it would make me look desperate, but she said I needed to do it now. And you were with that drug guy, so that was a good call, I guess, but now she’s mad, I think.” I big shiver overtakes my body and I can’t talk anymore. My teeth are chattering with stark, cold fear. The headache is blazing behind both eyes.

  “Sarah, I don’t know what the fuck is happening right now, but I can tell you for a fact that Laura wouldn’t hurt so much as a flea in life and she wouldn’t do it in death either. Stay there. I’m coming back.”

  “You’re really far away. You should stay gone,” I weep.

  “You need me, I’m there. Don’t do anything stupid until I get there.”

  “Stupid? Like what? Imagine a dark ghost is after me?” I try to laugh, but it sounds like crazy personified.

  “Just relax and wait. Take a nap, maybe. You’ve probably overworked yourself painting too much.”

  A bitter laugh escapes my lips. “Ha, that’s funny. When you left, you took my muse with you. I can’t paint shit unless you’re in the next room, apparently.”

  “I’m going to try not to let that go to my head,” he says, his voice calmer and kind again.

  “Shut up. Just come.”

  “I’m on my way. Do you want me to keep you on the line while I drive?”

  “No. The signal sucks. I’m going to take a nap like you suggested.” Right here under this blanket in the dark where no one can get me.

  I let Jaws in with me and lie down, burrowing under the thick wool and letting my eyes drift closed. I recite the prayer my mother taught me when I was little:

  Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord, my soul to keep…

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  I HEAR A BANG AND then a barking dog. Jeremy! He’s here! I sit up and throw the blanket off when the sound of his boots clomping up the stairs assure me it’s my savior. I can’t believe I slept through his entire almost three-hour drive. The headache is still there, throbbing away.

  “Sarah!” he shouts, banging on the door. “Let me in!”

  Damn, it’s dark in here. I can’t see a damn thing.

  “Jeremy?!” I reach out and touch the coffee table in front of me. Why can’t I see it? It’s like the blanket is still over my head. I reach up to make sure I’m just not feeling it there, but it’s not blocking my vision. It can’t be; it’s around my waist.

  Panic starts to well up in me. “Jeremy!” I screech.

  “Sarah! What’s wrong?! Open the goddamn door!”

  “I can’t! I can’t see! I can’t see anything!”

  A few seconds later I hear breaking glass and then more barking.

  “Go away, Stanky! I mean it! I’ll kick you this time, I swear to God!”

  “Jaws, come here!” I yell, my voice several notches higher than normal. The ghost has won. She’s taken me into the darkness with her. I cannot see a single thing.

  There’re more sounds of glass falling and then fumbling and finally banging on the ground and a blast of cold air. Footsteps follow and then ice-cold hands touch my arms.

  “Ack! Get off me!” I shout, for a moment imagining that the Grim Reaper himself has arrived to drag me over to the other side.

  “Hey! Hey! Calm down! It’s me, Jeremy, okay?”

  I grab the snow jacket I feel at my hands and pull it closer, trying to see him, but I can’t. It’s pitch black in here.

  “Turn on a light, I can’t see you.”

  Jeremy’s cold hand touches my face. “Babe, the light is on. I’m right here in front of you.”

  Tears pour out as I realize what’s happened. “I’m blind. I can’t see anything.”

  Suddenly I feel myself flying up in the air.

  “What are you doing?” I ask, breathless.

  “Taking you to the hospital.”

  “The hospital? Can they help…?” My next words were …Get rid of a ghost’s curse. But I keep that part to myself.

  “Let’s hope so. Where’s your jacket?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “Here. Put this on.” Jeremy puts me back on my feet, staying close enough that I can feel the heat of his body nearby. Whatever he’s putting on me is warm. I realize when my hands don’t reach the bottom of the sleeves that it’s his jacket I’m wearing.

  “You’ll freeze.”

  “I have a heater in the truck. Come on. We’re outta here.”

  “But what about Jaws?”

  “He can stay in town.”

  “No!” I stop walking, even though Jeremy is tugging at my elbow. “I’m not leaving without him.”

  “Fine! Just… come on. I don’t like the way your eyes look.”

  I pause near the front door as he unlocks it. “What do you mean? What do they look like?”

  “Never mind. Come on.”

  “Wait!” I yell, grabbing his arm as he’s about to lift me.

  “What now?!”

  “Take the painting.” I gesture behind me where I think the painting is resting on the easel.

  “Why? Come on, we don’t have time for this.”

  “Just take it. I can walk in the snow. I’ll just hold onto your back while you carry it. And I need my purse too.”

  Jeremy sighs in annoyance, but I can hear him doing as I asked. I try to zip his jacket up, but can’t figure out the zipper parts without my sight to help me.

  “Okay, I’m going to open the door. We’ll go out on the porch and I’ll lock up.”

  “Do you have my purse?”

  “Yes, I have your purse.”

  “But what about the window you broke?”

  He sighs in annoyance. ?
??I’ll put that blank canvas over the hole. Just wait right here.”

  The cold wind stops hitting my face and then he’s back. “Follow me. Here’s my arm.” He puts my hand through the crook of his elbow.

  I shuffle behind him, taking baby steps, afraid I’m going to walk into a wall or the door. I’ve never been so literally in the dark as I am right now. My eyes are gone. I’ll never paint again. I try not to think about it, but it’s impossible. I start to cry once more, but I do it quietly so Jeremy won’t hear me.

  Getting to the truck is an adventure in itself. I fall down no less than five times before Jeremy puts my hand on the truck.

  “Wait here. I’m going to load the painting in the back seat with your purse and then I’ll help you in.”

  I feel around and figure out I’m standing at the front of the vehicle. I take small steps to the side, making my way over to the passenger door. I get there as Jeremy joins me.

  “Up you go,” he says, placing my hands in places he thinks will help me navigate.

  “Here?” I ask, waving my foot near where I think I might find a step up.

  He takes my foot and places it on the runner.

  “Thanks.” I rarely ride in trucks, so I’m not that familiar with them or how they’re laid out. I blame my amateur status as the reason why I slam my head into the top of the truck and then fall back into the door.

  “Here. Just let me do it.” Jeremy picks me up like a baby and places me on the seat.

  I reach out to pat his cheek. “Thank you.” I touch something, but I’m not sure what it is. My hands are frozen at this point.

  He buckles me in, shuts the door, and a few seconds later, opens his own. The truck bounces around as he gets in and then the motor fires up.

  “You ready?” he asks.

  “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

  I feel movement as the truck begins its descent of the driveway. Vertigo starts to take over as I realize I cannot figure out which way is up, down, left, or right. Reaching out, I put one hand on the window ledge and one on the seat.

  “You okay?” he asks.

  My nerves make me laugh. “Okay? Not really.”

  “Can you see anything?”

  “Not one thing. It’s completely black.”

  He pats me on the hand. “Don’t worry. I’ll get you to the ER and my brother will make sure the best doctors in the state take care of you.”

  We drive on in silence and my mind wanders over my situation. I’m a painter. I came out here to this cabin to get away from all the stress of real life and reconnect with myself, and just days later, I’m leaving with a guy who should be a complete stranger but who feels like the beginnings of a boyfriend, I’ve talked to his dead wife’s ghost and somehow pissed her off, and now I’m as blind as a bat.

  I’d say my adventure is a complete failure. I wish I knew what the hell was going on.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  “I WAS GOING TO TAKE you to Manhattan, but it’s too far. I’m taking you here.”

  “Where’s here?” I ask, turning my head to face him.

  His sharp intake of breath is impossible to miss.

  “What? What’s wrong?” I hold Jaws against me tighter, letting him lick-attack my wrist.

  “Nothing. I just need to get you into the ER.”

  I reach out and swing my hand around until I make contact with his arm. I squeeze it and plead. “Please tell me. What’s wrong? Is it my eyes? What do they look like?” This irrational thought goes through my mind that his wife didn’t want me looking at her husband anymore so she blinded me with her ghost voodoo. Can someone turn that bad when they die when they were apparently an angel while alive? All I’ve ever heard about Laura is how kind and loving she was. Surely she wouldn’t blind an innocent woman for liking her man, would she? That expression about hell having no fury like a scorned woman comes to mind, but she was anything but scorned. She was adored by this guy.

  “Your eyes are messed up, that’s for sure. We’ll find out why very soon. Stay put. I’m just going to park in this valet area and get a wheelchair.”

  I wait as he follows through on his plan, my hands floating up to touch my face. I close my lids, but they feel completely normal to my fingers. That’s a relief. I guess they’re not sealed shut or anything supernatural creepy like that. I take several long, deep breaths, trying to soothe my panicked brain and my thumping headache. It doesn’t work at all.

  My door opens letting in more cold air. “I’ve got ya,” Jeremy says, lifting me out.

  “What about Jaws?”

  “He’ll be fine in the truck for now. He has a big blanket there to snuggle up in, and if we’re still here in an hour and they expect you to stay, I’ll board him at a nearby vet while we’re here. We passed one just down the street that has 24-hour emergency care.”

  “Okay. Okay.” A tiny ray of relief zips through me. At least I won’t have to worry about my fur baby. I hope he’s not worried about me.

  A woman’s voice is off to my right. “I’ve got the chair. Go ahead and put her in.”

  Hard angles bump into my elbows. I grab the arms of the chair as soon as I realize what they are.

  “What’s going on?” the woman asks as the chair starts wheeling forward. I’m jerked to the left and then the right as she turns corners.

  “She called me on the phone, and we were talking, and then suddenly she screamed and said she thought something was after her. I went to help her and this is how I found her. Look at her eyes.”

  The wheelchairs stops and I smell someone with smoker’s breath in front of me. “Hmmm. Could be detached retinas. We’ll get her in right away and have the doctor take a look.”

  “Detached retinas?” I say. “That sounds really bad. Is it permanent?”

  “Shhh, not a word that I said anything,” the nurse mumbles. “We’re not supposed to make diagnoses out here. Just relax. Everything’s going to be just fine.”

  I grip the arms of the wheelchair with everything I have. The metal digs into my skin. Detached retinas? What the hell is that? Are my eyeballs going to fall out into my lap? Jeremy will be disgusted. My life will be over. I’ll never paint or see anything worth painting again.

  The biggest pity party I’ve ever had has officially begun, and I’m the guest of honor. I can’t stop crying. My heart is breaking for the future I’ll never have.

  I can hear Jeremy jogging next to me as the nurse starts yelling things out, I assume, to her co-workers. We’re out of the cold and the smell of sick people and antiseptic is strong. I must be in the hospital now.

  “Babe, it’s going to be fine,” Jeremy says, his voice surprisingly calm. “I’m going to call my brother as soon as you’re in a bed and he’ll make sure you’re taken care of.”

  I can’t listen anymore. I don’t know if it’s what the nurse said making it happen, but I’m starting to feel pressure in my eyeballs. It hurts worse than the headache. I can’t stop crying. They become sobs, loud ones.

  “Listen, you need to relax,” another nurse says. “The more you put pressure on yourself, the worse this is going to get.”

  “That’s easy for you to say!” I shout at this stranger. “Your eyeballs aren’t about to fall out of your head!”

  Someone laughs, but the voice that responds is very calm. “Your eyes are not going to fall out. Just relax. We’re going to take good care of you.”

  Thank God I have COBRA for my insurance, or I’d have to be planning my first bankruptcy hearing after this little visit. As it is, the co-pay’s going to eat up most of my savings. I don’t have to be a doctor to know that fixing sudden blindness has to have a giant price tag. I’ll never get any painting done now. I’m going to have to find a job, but who in the hell’s going to hire a blind person? No one, that’s who. I’ll have to go on disability. The tears keep coming.

  The wheelchair stops moving. “Okay, young lady, we need you to stand up now and get in the bed that’s just to your left. I’
ll help you. Don’t move too fast; we don’t want you falling.”

  I continue to cry softly, but the sobbing goes on hold as I concentrate on following her directions, this nurse who maybe is the one who laughed at me. I’ll bet she wouldn’t be laughing if it were her eyeballs at stake. Jerk.

  I hate everyone now. Why did this have to happen to me? I must have done something really wrong to someone to get this kind of karmic punishment. I hear Leah’s voice in my head, schooling me on the what-goes-around-comes-around lesson. She was always worried about the balance of the universe in her life. I’m starting to think she was right about that stuff. I need to make amends fast. I should probably start with the nurses who are trying to help me.

  “Thank you,” I say. “I appreciate your help.” My tears finally stop.

  There are hands all over me. I think two of them are Jeremy’s when I hear him speak just next to me. “Here you go. Just come towards my voice. I’m on the other side of the bed. I’m going to help you up.”

  “Sir, we can do it. Just step back.”

  “No, I’m helping. She needs me.”

  “It’s okay if he helps,” I say, my heart warming at his protective tone.

  I settle onto my back on the bed, but a nurse holds my shoulder. “Don’t lie down. We need you to stay sitting up.”

  “Good,” I say, breathing a sigh of relief. “Because it was bugging my eyes to lie down.”

  “That’s the pressure. We’ll get rid of that for you soon.”

  “Are you going to stick a needle in my eye?”

  “The doctor will be right in to examine you, don’t worry.”

  I turn my head to face where I think Jeremy is. “I think that means Yes.”

  The woman pats my hand. “No one’s going to stick a needle in anyone’s eye. Just relax.” She squeezes me once. “I’ll be right back to start an IV.”

  “I hate IVs.”

  “Haven’t met a single person who liked ‘em yet,” she says, and then her squeaky footsteps fade out.

  “I’m going to call my brother now.” Jeremy sounds nervous. Concerned. I wish I were in a better position to comfort him.

  I nod, afraid of what I’ll say if I speak. I’ve never felt so needy and weak. All I want to know is Why? Why did this happen to me? What did I do wrong? Is this the universe telling me that I shouldn’t be painting anymore? I sure have gotten enough signs of that lately. The idea is positively depressing. Without painting, I’m not even sure who I am. It’s been a part of who I am my whole life.