Lindsay’s Story: Amphetylcholemine Hydropyrinase-5
Chapter 5: The Steeple
When I came to, I was lying on the couch in the living room, facing the garden. The light was dimming. I still had the bathrobe on, and it smelled nasty. I dragged myself to my feet. Go upstairs. Finally get clothes on.
But as I started up the stairs, Cameron called out to me. He must have been in the study, and he heard me get up. “Lindsay, hold on a sec, would you?”
I stopped. “I’m just getting some clothes on,” I called.
“Come in the living room.”
“I just want to get some damned clothes on!”
He was at the bottom of the stairs now. I wrapped the robe tighter. “You don’t want to try to argue with me, Lindsay.”
“Oh, fuck you.” I started up the stairs.
“But what your...snake charmer, Lindsay?” I could hear a mean smile in his voice.
Goddamn it. It had worked. A snake was crawling up my leg, heading for my vagina. I tried to grab it, but it bit me. I cried out and pulled my hand away.
“Snake charmer, snake charmer, snake charmer,” he sing-songed. Snakes crawled out of the woodwork, and swarmed up my legs.
I found myself very nearly sliding down the stairs to him. I clutched at him. “Make them go away!”
“See, Lindsay, you don’t need your clothes right now. Take off the robe.”
I did. Then I looked down at myself and screamed. I was covered with snakes. Like tattoos, but thicker. I screamed and screamed. He was talking, but I couldn’t hear. I didn’t want to hear him! My throat was raw, but I kept up the noise. As long as I didn’t stop screaming, I couldn’t hear him. And it helped with the snakes, a bit.
I ran back to the closet in my dad’s study, still yelling my head off. I felt clearer. Cleaner. Cameron followed me, trying to talk. Patiently. He didn’t know what I was after.
I found the gun in its shoebox, pulled it out. My mouth closed. I held the blessed instrument below my chin, pointing up, like a prayer. I breathed out, finger on the trigger. Here’s the church, here’s the steeple.
But now I could hear him. His face was red and sweaty. “Lindsay, you can’t kill yourself! Remember your rules!”
He was right. Shit. I tightened my fingers. “Boot cream!” he cried. “Boot cream! Remember the rules!”
The world was turning colors. The clarity had slipped away now, but a single thought drifted across my consciousness. The rules were clear. I could not kill myself.
I dropped the steeple towards Cameron, his sweaty face, suddenly sweet, like a ripe tomato. “Open up the doors,” I said, “and look at all the people.”
His doors were open all right. I made sure they never closed again.