Chapter 8 - A Stranger Among Us

(...outside the Turner house...ten minutes later...)

A car pulls into the driveway. He was unsure why he came back. There's nothing for him here. Yet, there was some strange...pull that compelled him to return here.

(...the living room...)

The door opens. Tim quietly walks in. He closes the door behind him and walks toward the stairs.

A lamp switches on. The light illuminating the room goes unnoticed by Tim... "And here I was worried that something may have happened to you." ...but the voice on the couch does not.

Virginia glares back at him, her arms folded.

He turns around...and laughs a little. "You got me! I was...working late and the time, it just got away from--"

"The office called. You stormed out of the building. Don't embarrass the both of us by lying."

"Okay, so I wasn't 'working', but I..."

The brunette walks to her husband. "Damnit, Tim. What's happening to you?"

"Nothing is happening to me. Everything is--"

"No! Don't you dare say 'fine'. That's all I've heard from you the last few days. Why won't you...?" Virginia can't complete her thought. For much of the conversation, Tim avoided eye contact with her. She gets a good look into his eyes...and discovers the reason.

"Why won't I what?"

"I...I'm sorry, Tim. I guess I'm just a bit hysterical. I mean, I was worried an-and you didn't call, and..."

"Don't worry, babe. I'm here now." Virginia wraps her arms around him. He lightly pats her back. "Well, I'm tired. I'm goin' to bed."

"I'll be up in a bit."

Tim offers a wave of the hand and an unintelligible murmur in response. What Virginia saw in his eyes frightened her a little. There's no telling what he might've done to her if he caught on to her fear.

Virginia goes to the linen closet and pulls out a multi-colored blanket. Her mother made it for her many years ago. She used to say that it would keep monsters away, but, over time, Virginia realized that it was just her mother playing to her childhood fears. She lies down on the couch and pulls the comforter over her. This much was certain: the woman sure hoped her mother was right about this now. A few tears escape Virginia's eyes as she turns off the lamp.

Meanwhile, a picture hangs on the wall next to the staircase. It somewhat resembles the 'Mona Lisa', but the hair of the woman in the picture was pink instead of brown. In the classic artwork, people debated over whether or not the woman was smiling. The shocked look of the woman in the replica left behind no such mystery.

(...the Turner home...the following afternoon...)

Ah, Saturday. A day of rest. Virginia sits at the computer typing. The phone rings. She reaches over and picks it up.

"Turner home. How may I help you? Vicky, hi! I'm fine. Tim...well, Tim is...different. The last few days, he's...he hasn't been himself. No, I will not divorce him! No, you cannot recommend lawyers. Vicky, this is just...a rough patch. We'll get through this."

There is raucous laughter on the other end as Virginia hangs up the receiver. Even with the onset of adulthood, the relationship between Tim and Vicky was just as rocky as ever. She did attend the wedding, though...mainly as a favor to her sister, who she really cared for. There were just too many elements contributing to their mutual animosity. Vicky got to see Thomas and Violet...but Tim couldn't find out. He didn't want his children exposed to her.

Speaking of Tim...

"Who was that?" He walks past her, brushing her back with his fingers.

"Oh, just Vicky."

"Ah." Virginia watches him as he exits the room. Okay, something is definitely off. News of a phone call from Vicky was usually accompanied by an audible groan (something in the neighborhood of 'they can hear you in the South of France') and some mumbled insults. She tries to shake it off and turns back to her work.

(...the living room...a couple of hours later...)

Virginia slings her purse around her shoulder and opens the door. Violet rushes outside followed by Thomas. They each wear pins on their shirts, one is pink and the other green.

"I call the front seat."

"No fair! You always get the front seat!"

"Tim, I'm going to the store. I'll be back in a while."

There's no answer. Virginia turns to her bickering children as she closes the door.

"Thomas, honey, you can get the front seat when we come back."

"All right."

The engine roars to life and the car makes its way into traffic.

All of this could matter less to the man lying on the couch. He thought about the events of the previous night. The fun he had. The excitement, and the danger...well, it wasn't too dangerous. He stopped at a drugstore beforehand; in today's society, one can never be too careful of diseases. Besides, if more fun was to be had, it simply wouldn't do to worry about the burning and the itching.

He exhales a little bit. Trixie and Veronica. He'd been dreaming about this since high school...in fact, it was very much what he envisioned then.

"Oh, what a great night that was.", a cocksure voice states from out of nowhere.

The man sits up.

"I definitely want to have more like it."

Another voice, one trying to sound confident, speaks up. "But you can't."

"Who says I can't?"

"Me!"

"You! And just what are you gonna do about it?"

"Uh...something!"

The man runs to a mirror hanging on the wall.

"And what can you do? I'm running things here!"

The man's head shifts from side to side with each response. "It's my life."

"It's our life; our life that you threw away!"

"I didn't throw away anything. I fell in love. I found someone who loves me."

"Just one woman? Pathetic."

"Not as much as you."

The man raises his fist and punches the mirror. Glass shards spill onto the floor. Instead of a scream, the man simply shakes his hand. His expressions run the gamut between smug and angry.

"Face it, Tim, she's holding you back. Holding us back."

"You leave me alone!"

"Just like you left me alone? Don't bet on it. Back to the subject, the bitch has to go."

"You'll have to kill me, first."

"Already halfway there."

The man runs up the stairs. His foot catches one of the steps and he falls down. He crawls up the stairs and runs to his bedroom. The cocky voice now booms from within.

"And what are you trying to do? Run away from your problems? You can't run away, 'cause, wherever you go, I'll always be there."

The man stands against the wall. He glances around. "Still here, chief." He balls his hands into fists. He raises them and starts hitting his head on the wall. Again. And again. And again. In mid-bang, he stops and flings his body across the room. He collapses in a heap.

"Whoa, there. Don't want you too banged up. After all, we have a new life to get to." The man looks up, a somewhat malicious look on his face. "And that means cutting ties to the old one."

(...the Turner home...an hour later...)

The sound of the car pulling into the driveway can be heard...but, not much else. Thomas and Violet get out of the car. "Hey, you two. You need to help with these."

"But mommy...", they whine together.

The door unlocks. Virginia kicks it open. She carries two big bags, impairing her vision. "Tim, are you there?"

She knew the house pretty well (after living in it for a decade, she had better), so navigating to the kitchen was no problem. The woman sets the bags down on the counter and takes several breaths.

Virginia turns around. Right there behind her is Tim, who looks happy to see her.

"Hey." His tone is low and calm, bordering on robotic.

The brunette grabs her chest. "Damn, Tim. You scared me."

"Didn't mean to. No matter what happens, I want you to be calm."

She looks up at him. "Right..." Without taking her eyes off of him, Virginia walks out of the kitchen. She peeks her head back in. "Um, could you put those groceries away, please?"

"Right." He roots through one of the bags. His face crinkles; there's nothing of interest here. His hands reach into the other. Same unfortunate results.

He walks out, the groceries still on the counter.

(...the living room...an hour later...)

Lightning cuts a swath across the night sky. Virginia lies on the couch, reading a book by table lamp.

From out of the darkness glides Tim, a wide grin on his face.

"Hello." That same near-emotionless tone asserts itself.

Virginia lets out a yelp. "Tim, I really wish you wouldn't do that."

He doesn't seem to be listening. "Nice night, isn't it?"

The brunette looks out the window. By now, it's started to rain. "Yeah, right."

"You know, I was thinking...things have been really crazy, lately. How would you feel about a vacation?"

"A vacation? That sounds great. I could sure use one." She stretches a little. "A chance to get away from school, a chance to kick back and relax."

The brown-haired man reaches his hand back. "I was so hoping you'd say that." In a quick swing, he knocks Virginia off of the couch. He walks around and slings the woman over his shoulder.

He walks back around the couch. Virginia hangs behind as he heads up the stairs. Her head shakes a bit as she flutters back to consciousness. She looks down at the steps, then up at who seems to be her husband.

Virginia grabs on to the railing and wraps her legs around Tim's head. With all her might, she knocks him down the stairs.

(...the bedroom...)

Virginia rushes to the phone. She picks up the receiver and starts to dial. Nine...one...

The young man grabs her from behind before she can finish. Her legs thrash around to no effect. The receiver still in hand, she reaches behind and hits him in the head. Another hit. And another. He drops her and puts his hands to his head. This enables her to run out.

(...Thomas and Violet's bedroom...)

The two of them are fast asleep. The door opens. Virginia closes it behind her. This gets Violet's attention. She sits up in her bed.

"Mommy, what's wrong?" A worried look on her face.

"Um...nothing."

"Where are you?"

"...much."

Thomas' eyes open.

"It's not time for school, is it?", the boy replies sleepily.

The woman moves closer to her children. Her voice becomes steadily choked up. "Now...we're gonna play a little game. It's called 'safe getaway'. The object is to get dressed as quickly and quietly as possible." Virginia knew how wrong it was to lie so much to her children, but whatever kept them safe and clear-headed was deemed necessary.

"Mommy, what prize does the fastest person win?"

"I'll tell you in my car. Now, please hurry."

Thomas sounds a little more awake. "Can we bring our hamsters?"

"Have they been fed?"

"Uh-huh."

"Yes, you can." The brunette prepares to go outside. She goes back to the twins' bed. "Come here." She beckons her children to come to her. "I love you so much." A big, circulation-slowing hug.

She wipes the tears from her eyes as she walks out.

(...the hallway...)

Virginia leans on the railing overlooking the living room. She looks toward the front door. The woman takes off down the stairs. As she reaches the foot, the man turns the corner and blocks her path.

She stops and rushes back up. He grabs her right leg. She trips and donkey-kicks him with her left. She scurries up the stairs. He reaches out to get her...but stops. Virginia rolls over and watches as he grabs his head and yells. This must be one mother of a headache.

He crouches away and continues to yell. She reaches her hand out, like she wants to help him. He turns back around, causing her to snatch the hand back.

The look in his eyes is surprisingly heartfelt. "Tootie...run!" A look of worry briefly crossed Virginia's face; Tim never, ever called her 'Tootie' unless something was really wrong.

"Timmy...?" Her again choked-up voice hits that unusual pitch she reached as a love struck little girl.

"Run...away."

She obeys him and knocks on the kids' bedroom door. "Are you ready yet?"

"I am, but Thomas isn't."

"I'm almost done!"

Virginia looks down at her writhing husband. "Kids, this really isn't the time."

After a few moments, the door opens and the kids walk out. Thomas holds the hamster cage. "Ready!"

"Good. Now follow me downstairs." The children do just that.

Thomas notices his father on the floor. "What's wrong with daddy?"

"I'm not sure."

"Shouldn't we try to help him?", the girl adds.

The man reaches out again. "Run!"

"We will. I don't know when, or how, but we will."

Virginia grabs a coat out of the closet and hurries the children out. The last thing they see before closing the door is their anguished provider, reaching his hand toward them, groaning and grunting.