Purgatorium (28 page)

Two people had come up the stairs and stood about ten feet away from Madi and me. The two strangers held each other closely, kissing and whispering, looking out at the bay. A narrow shaft of light from the lighthouse arcs across the bay, interrupting the moon’s reflection.

“She never really saw the person she truly married…the real person. I think she ignored all the signs; she wanted to be with someone so badly,” Madi continues. “My mom bought me an old, secondhand snow
globe
. The globe was mounted on a small base that was also a music box. When the lid opened, this nice tune would play.”

“What song?” I ask.

“The Light in the Piazza,” she says, fondly. “Our song.” She wipes away a tear from her cheek. “The song always put me to sleep and brought me good dreams. I loved that snow globe.”

“You never did tell me what happened to it.”

“Jacob,” replies Madi. “He broke it one afternoon in a drug-fueled rage because I wouldn’t hand him the remote.” Madi starts sobbing. “With the drugs slowly taking over, my mom was a mess. She started job-hopping. She ended up with one that required her to commute far away. Everyday, Jacob would drive her to and from work. He would pick me up from school when she didn’t have time or was too strung out.”

I am worried and yet suspecting what Madi will say next.

“There was a rest stop,” Madi says. “This abandoned old rest stop along the highway where we would stop every time.” She sobs more loudly now, her shoulders shaking with each sob. “He told me to get into the backseat. He got in on the other side. Then, he’d say he wanted to play a different game than the ones we played at home. He called it Red Rover. He kept whispering those words to me, over and over, ‘Red Rover, Red Rover, send Madi right over.’ He told me I had to play the game; it’s what good little girls did. He said I had to come over to his side of the seat when he said, ‘send Madi right over.’ So I did, not knowing what he was going to do next.”

Madi sobs uncontrollably, hyperventilating a little. She breathes in deeply, holding my hands firmly, calming herself a little, but still trembling, before she can start talking again.

“Jacob told me never to say anything to my mom because it was our secret and my mom might not understand. But he also said that if I did say something, he might have to hurt me.”

Watching Madi’s face, I see that she is frantic, feeling something beyond fear or anger. “So, I said nothing. And every day for two months we pulled into the rest stop until I eventually told my mom. Long story short? Jacob was thrown in jail.” Madi is breathing more steadily and calmly now.

Madi laughs. “There are nights I can still see him in my dreams. Always at that rest stop, always repeating, ‘Red Rover.’”

“Don’t do this to yourself,” I say, putting my arm around Madi.

“I couldn’t make him stop. I couldn’t, but that’s what I wanted—for it to stop.”

I squeeze her tight and whisper to her, “I promise, I will never let anyone hurt you again.”

“You can’t always be there to protect me,” she says, staring off over the water.

“I mean it,” I say, pulling her as close as I can. Madi starts crying again, sobbing into my shoulder. She looks into my eyes, bringing her lips to meet mine. Light from the lighthouse cuts a swathe across the bay. The music from down below suddenly stops and my eyes are filled with bright light.

My eyes remain closed, not wanting to open them to find that Madi is now probably gone. The music has left and I begin to realize why it sends me back to those specific memories.

The music that I hear is the same as the music within my memory. The song must have some kind of strong mental hold towards my past which must make me remember it easier. Someone up there knows me well enough to play a set of music that has influenced me in a way that whoever it is knows about. But who could it be?

I take away every possible answer of who it could be but the one I really want.

Madi.

I feel snowflakes falling onto my face. I open my eyes. The night sky is filled with a kind of jasmine color from the northern lights. I realize I am alone, lying on the bench in front of the oak tree in the park, not on the subway where I am supposed to be. I feel my wrist. My
watch
is gone.
Gabriel
must have done this, I think.

A note lies on the ground next to me. It reads, “Two bodies have I, though both joined in one. The more I stand still, the faster I run.”

I wonder why it’s there when I realize I can see my breath. I jump to my feet, my heart pounding in fear, and look around, listening closely for the shrieking sound. Instead of the reapers, I see the little girl again, standing by the oak tree.

Moments later, I hear the distant shrieking of the reapers. I have time, I think. The girl looks scared. She walks up to me, raising her hands up and placing them on my face.

“You have lost your way again, but you have not lost hope. I can see it, can you?” she asks. She removes her hands from my face. I look into the little girl’s eyes. “Will you keep your promise?” she says to me. I am shocked when I hear those words. Did she go inside my memories too? I begin to lose focus. She points up behind me. I look over and up to see the statue holding the glass box in its hand.

Suddenly, I turn around and she is gone. I look back at the glass box held by the statue. I see the reflection of some kind of indistinctly outlined object in the glass. Two bodies have I, though both joined in one. The more I stand still, the faster I run, I constantly repeat in my head.

It’s an hourglass!

The indistinct reflection in the glass becomes clearer and clearer. I see the
hourglass
. Sand trickles down through its neck. The sand fills the bottom and the
hourglass
slowly turns upside down. I understand what time it is now. Each time it turns over, another five minute cycle begins. That makes it 45 minutes.

45 Minutes

I would have been getting off the subway at this moment. I hear shrieking coming from the other end of the park. The fastest way back to my apartment building is by car. Though mine blew up, there are others on the street. I run down the block and see a car slowly moving. I look over and see an
hourglass
reflecting in the coffee shop window. I only have a few
minutes
left.

I run towards the car, break the window, slide in, and see keys in the ignition. I take hold of the steering wheel and accelerate out of the parking lot and onto the ramp for the interstate.

I look behind me and see dozens of reapers pursuing me. I drive down toward the exit to my apartment. I see the truck with the window glass up ahead in the left lane—its glass is still cracked.

Looking back through my rearview mirror, I see my back windshield is freezing over. The rear wheels seem to slip along the now frozen pavement. Panicked, I press the gas pedal to the floor and pull up alongside the truck. Now, not only is the back of the car frozen over, but my steering is unresponsive.

Quickly assessing the situation, I decide to ditch the car. I slam my left shoulder against the door, forcing it open. Freezing cold air rushes in. I push the door open against the force of the air rushing by, leverage myself so I can stand on my seat with my right foot, and step onto the hood with my left. Summoning all my strength, I jump towards the truck on my left.

I grab for the passenger-side door handle, catch it firmly in my left hand, and grab the side mirror with my right. I then get my flailing legs up on the sideboard. The pain of the cold metal on my hands is excruciating. I press the release button on the door, push myself up with my legs, and force the door open against the wind.

I climb inside the cab, letting the door slam shut behind me. I quickly jump over to the empty driver’s seat, take hold of the wheel, and stomp down on the gas pedal with my right foot. Looking through the rearview mirror, I see the reapers closing in on me from behind.

Darkness and frost engulf the back window and the door beside me. I have reached my exit and quickly steer onto the exit ramp. I look up into my rearview mirror and see the reflection from the glass of the cargo truck. I look to find the
hourglass
is turning over, letting me know it’s been five
minutes
.

50 Minutes

Suddenly, the driver’s side door rips open. I turn the sharp corner onto my street. I see a reaper’s dark cold hand reaching for me. Without hitting the brakes, I push myself over to the passenger side, kick the door open, and jump out, hitting the sidewalk with my feet and rolling.

I get up and run to the front door of the apartment building, push it open, and run inside to the elevator. It opens on my arrival and I rush inside. I press the button for the rooftop and sigh a big relief. No thoughts enter my head except for just one: Madi.

I walk out of the elevator and onto the rooftop. I see the
hourglass
on the roof’s edge and look at the amount of sand left in the top to try to determine how much time I have left. It looks to be a couple minutes shy of fifty-five. I lean my head down, breathing heavily, relishing the moment of me making it on time.

“Congrats! Well done!” I turn around and
Gabriel
is standing just a few feet in front of me, smiling sarcastically and antagonistically. “You’ve earned this back,” Gabriel says, holding my watch toward me.

I snatch my watch with my left hand. As soon as I have it, I take a swing at
Gabriel
’s face, but he quickly steps left and I miss.

Gabriel laughs, reaching into his pocket and bringing out the Rubik’s cube I finished earlier that day. “You see. It’s not about just finishing, it’s about how much time it takes you to finish. How fast your brain can accumulate information and react at any given moment. You see them now, yes? The flaws?”

I take the two pictures I have left out of my pocket.I show him the one that was taken with the one on the ledge of the roof. I throw it at his face. I can see the hourglass standing straight on the ledge and watch it pour second by second to its bottom.

Don’t you mean hourglasses?

“Yes! The hourglasses are the order of things in this place, but once they are broken, it will bring about chaos. The reapers are that specific chaos in which I am talking about. As you witnessed firsthand on the interstate this morning. You’ll have to smash the whole lot of them all the way back here. Each hourglass must be destroyed in a certain amount of time. Take this hourglass, for example.” Gabriel points to the one on the roof.

“Take this moment in time right now. You have to leave here at 55 minutes, right? Well, anytime before 55, you’re golden. Once it’s past 55, though? Then, the hourglass turns and you lose. Though it might seem to look a little different when you actually race. Meaning, if you see the sand turn into snow, then you better smash it fast and run like your life depended on it.” He looks at me, smiling, and says, “And I wouldn’t dare look back. Unless you want to piss yourself.”

Gabriel looks at the cube in his hand, distracted by the one-sided colors, he wears a smile across his face.

“Remember Adam and Eve? Sometimes you have to break the rules to earn back your full humanity. You’ve done this more times than I can count, but this time? This time is going to be different. You will see! You want to know how I know?”

Gabriel takes the cube and looks at it, confirming, “I know because you’ve never once finished the cube in just one day.” He hands it back to me. “That’s something, right there. Let’s have a drink, shall we?!”

Gabriel
turns and walks to the table, still set with an open bottle of red wine and two glasses. He sits down and fills the wine glasses halfway. I walk to the ledge where the telescope is. I look back at Gabriel and see this is the first time I have seen him not stuffing his face. Maybe he finally got full, I think.

Looking through the viewfinder, I still see only blackness. I again examine the telescope, trying to find what’s wrong with it. In my periphery, I see
Gabriel
standing next to me, holding a glass out for me. I angrily grab the glass and throw it over the ledge. We hear it shatter on the street below.

“Probably best. Even though you can’t taste it you still can feel the side effects. It hits you a lot faster and the hangover is a lot stronger.”