Crystal Lies - Melody Carlson [61]
When midnight rolled around and he still hadn’t shown, I realized he was probably pulling an all-nighter again. Why should that surprise me? And so I took two Tylenol PMs and went to bed. Sleeping aids were new to me, and I had convinced myself that these little blue pills helped me to rest at night, but I think it was really just another one of my delusions. It seemed I had been wrong about most everything.
However, they must’ve worked that night because I woke up out of a dead sleep with my heart racing as the overhead light flashed on in my room. I could see someone standing in the doorway, but my eyes, unadjusted to the light, couldn’t focus.
“What did you do to my room, Mom?” he demanded in a hard, cold voice that didn’t sound like my son.
I sat up in bed, blinking and rubbing my eyes. “Jacob?”
“Why were you snooping in my room?” he snapped.
“Cleaning. I wasn’t snooping,” I said as I reached for my robe and made my way out of the bed.
“Yeah, sure.” He punched his fist into the wall in the hallway, so hard that I saw a hole when I went out to talk to him.
“Jacob,” I said. “Look what you did.”
“Stay out of my stuff, Mom!”
Now I looked into his eyes and realized that this was a stranger. Oh sure, he was Jacob’s height and build, same hair color and facial features, but his eyes were different. His eyes were cold and hard, and I hate to admit it, but they were dark. Clouded and, well, evil looking. I clutched my bathrobe more tightly around me. “Jacob,” I said in what I hoped was a calming voice,“I was only trying to flip your mattress so your bed would be more—”
“Don’t lie to me, Mom!” He punched the wall again, resulting in another fist-sized hole. “I know ’ you were snooping. You and Dad used to do it all the time. You guys have never trusted me. No wonder I’m so screwed up.”
“Maybe you should just go to bed,” I told him, sensing that it was quite possible my son was under the influence of drugs even at this moment.
“Yeah, that’s what I was going to do, Mom. But then I come home and find my bedroom all ripped up into some big freaking mess. Like the KGB’s been here. What is wrong with you anyway? Why can’t you just stay out of my life and leave my stuff alone?” His fist was raised again.
I blinked and stepped back, afraid that he was aiming at me this time, but wham. It went through the hallway wall again. And now I was mad. “Stop putting holes in the wall, Jacob!” I yelled. “Don’t you know I’ll have to pay to have those fixed?”
“Is that what you’re worried about?” He laughed. “Money? Why not go back to Mr. Moneybags and ask him for a little handout. In fact, why don’t you pick up some for me while you’re there?” He smiled, but it was a twisted smile. “I’ll take mine in tens and twenties, if you don’t mind.”
“It’s late,” I told him. “We need to go to bed. We can talk about this in the morning.”
“No,” said Jacob. “I want to talk about it now.”
I shrugged, knowing I wouldn’t be sleeping much tonight anyway. “Fine, Jacob. Let’s talk about it now. Are you hungry? I didn’t have dinner, and it’s been a pretty cruddy day. Maybe if we both ate something and talked this over…”
He seemed to soften. “For you, too?”
“Yeah.” I looked at him more carefully. “Was your day bad?”
He nodded. “And now that you mention it, I’m hungry too.”
So that’s how I found myself in the kitchen fixing French toast for the two of us. And it was weird as I put together our three-o’clock-in-the-morning meal. It was like something in Jacob was unhinged. He began to talk and talk. Some of the things coming out of his mouth were really amazing and slightly profound, but a lot of his words and ideas were confusing and mixed up. Despite my growing suspicion that he was high, I tried to listen, thinking that perhaps it would provide a clue for why he was like this. But by the time he quit talking long enough to eat about a half-dozen slices of French toast smothered in maple syrup and butter, along with about a half gallon of milk, I really had no idea what his conversation had been about. Maybe it was due to my being exhausted or under