My Brother, The Spanish Inquisitor
August 22, 2007
I must have fallen asleep right there in the studio. I really don’t remember anything after the awful realization that was I back in the present – or is it the future? – without Taylor. The only thing that brings me back is the sound of my phone ringing. I’d rather just ignore it, but my back is starting to ache from the position I’m curled up in on the floor, so I’ve got to move anyway.
After what feels like the four millionth ring, I finally concede to answering. “Hello?”
“Zac, are you alright?” It’s Ike, of course.
I roll my eyes, even though he can’t see it. I know he means well by checking in on me several times a day, but it makes me feel like a child. I’m not a child. I’m just a little lost. “I’m fine. You don’t have to send out the police or anything.”
“It’s just… I drove by the office, and I saw your car there and the lights on. What are you doing there?”
“What the hell, Ike? Is this the Spanish Inquisition?”
If it were possible to hear eyes being rolled over the phone, I’m certain I would be hearing his right now. “I’m just worried alright? The last week… the last couple days, you’ve seemed like you were… I dunno, getting worse.”
“Define worse.”
“I don’t know. You just seem like you’re not all here, or something.”
“You have no idea,” I reply. “You really have no idea.”
He growls. “No, I don’t. And I’d ask you to tell me, but even when you do… it doesn’t make sense. So I don’t know what to do other than to keep calling and making sure you’re still in one piece.”
“I’m not not in one piece. Good enough?”
“Not really.”
Leave it Ike to be far more demanding of me than is necessary. What does he really want from me right now? If I told him even half of what just happened… he’d follow through on the plans I’m sure he’s already making to have me committed. I’ve been lucky that he’s been so accepting of everything I’ve told him so far, but I think “I time traveled backwards and I had sex with my dead brother” might be taking it a bit too far.
“Zac? Are you still there?”
I sigh. “Yeah, I’m still here. I’m just gonna go home and… sleep. Sleep would be good.”
“It’s 4pm.”
“No way. I came into the office early this morning. I haven’t been here that long.”
“Maybe you lost track of time,” Ike suggests.
“Oh, that’s not even funny,” I reply, but I can’t stop myself from laughing at it. It’s all just so absurd, and he doesn’t realize how right he is.
Isaac raises his voice to break through my laughter. “I think I missed the punchline.”
“You haven’t missed nearly as much as I have.”
He snorts. “Okay, that was a cheap shot. Are you gonna tell me what’s so funny, though?”
“I really can’t,” I say with a sigh, throwing my head down on the piano. Maybe I could knock myself out and it would land me back in that other reality. With my luck, I’d end up in some even worse reality. “You’ve been pretty understanding, and you have no idea how much that means to me, but I just can’t even begin to tell you what just happened.”
“If you say so,” he replies. “I’m listening, though, if you want to try.”
“Yeah, I really don’t.”
I really wish Ike would just get the hint. There’s no way I can explain this to him. I just want to go home and curl up in my bed, even if it is only 4pm. Which I still maintain is later than it should be. Where is all my time slipping away to? Did I fall and knock myself out for hours, during which I had a very vivid sex dream about Taylor? Somehow, that makes even less sense than the other possibility.
The possibility that I’m actually beginning to somehow break through and gain control over my timeline.
“Zac? Are you still there?”
“Yeah, I was just… thinking.”
“Are you sure you’re okay? You sound… strange. I mean, like, sick strange. Are you feeling well?”
Here comes the doting big brother. Usually that’s not Ike’s job, but I guess it has to be now. “I’m fine. I just need to lie down for a while. Maybe things will make sense when I wake up. Or maybe they’ll be entirely different. Who knows, really.”
“Do you need me to come get you?”
I groan. “No, I’ll be fine. But after I get home, I don’t plan on driving or anything like that until these damn headaches pass. It’s probably not safe.”
“Headaches?”
Oh. I’ve said too much now. I was really hoping I wouldn’t have to explain that to him, but now I’ve stuck my size ten foot in my size eight mouth. Figures. Maybe I can skirt around the issue and not tell him everything…
“The last couple days, my head has been hurting. Maybe I’m not getting enough caffeine in my blood stream or something. You know how grouchy Tay got when he… well, nevermind. Anyway, I’m sure these headaches will pass soon enough. But they can be pretty intense.”
That seems like a good explanation to me. Of course, Ike will probably still want me to see a doctor for them or something, but I have a feeling that really isn’t going to help. “Well, alright. Take some ibuprofen and hit the sack, then. It sounds like a migraine or something that just needs to run its course.”
“Yeah. I’m sure that’s what it is.”
Somehow, I manage to get Isaac off the phone pretty quickly, after assuring him that it must be a migraine and that I plan to take a long nap and some pain pills. In fact, I am very much sure that isn’t what it is. I used to get migraines a lot when I was younger, especially when we first got famous and we were constantly surrounded by bright lights and screaming girls. Nothing ever helped, except a lot of rest, usually with Taylor to hold me and let me nuzzle my face in his chest to block out the light.
Looking back on it, I suppose the two of us were always too close, even before we realized what it meant. It’s strange how you realize things like that once you’ve got some distance and you can reflect. I wonder what, years down the line, I’ll make of this particular time in my life.
But right now, I don’t want to think about it at all. As I drive as carefully as possible back to my house, I decide that all I really want to do is sleep the rest of the day away. But before I do that, I think I will take Isaac’s advice and down a few pain pills. Knowing me, I’ll probably wash them down with some whiskey or rum. If I’m going to end up passed out anyway, I might as well really pass out.
True to my word, I’m barely out of my shoes before I’m in the kitchen, pouring myself a large glass of bourbon the rocks. Might as well enjoy this while it lasts, since I’m sure in the morning I’m only going to wake up to an even worse headache with a side of hangover. Sipping as I go, I head to the bathroom and dig through the medicine cabinet for pain pills. I’ve got a few left of what looks to be a very old prescription, but I bet they’ll do the trick.
Kids, don’t try this stuff at home. I’m practically a trained professional at knocking myself out with copious amounts of drugs and alcohol.
Sure enough, the rest of the evening goes by in a blissfully headache-free blur. At some point I order a pizza, because I’m entirely too legless to even attempt to stand up and cook something. The delivery boy eyes me oddly, so I give him an extra large tip. That’s really the most I’m aware of, aside from hours spent sitting by the television, slipping in and out of consciousness. It feels nice to have my head not only free of pain, but empty of everything. No horrible thoughts, memories or visions. Just wonderful static.
I don’t snap back to reality until I hear someone knocking at the door. It’s insistent, but fairly soft, so I’m not sure how it even woke me. But something about it just demands my attention, so I stumble from the couch and make my way to the door, not really caring how much of a mess I must look.
It’s probably Isaac checking up on me, I figure. He seemed so concerned earlier when we spoke on the phone. I appreciate it, but I have a feeling it’s going to get very smothering very quickly. There’s nothing he can really do for me besides dote and worry, and that doesn’t really help.
But I’m very, very wrong. It’s Kate.
“Kate? What are you…”
She bites her lip. “Oh god, you’re drunk again. You reek of alcohol, Zac. What are you doing with yourself?”
“It’s so good to see you, too,” I say, proud of myself for only barely slurring the words. She’s right. I’m a wreck. No use arguing with her about that.
“If it’s so nice to see me, are you going to at least invite me in?”
I step aside and give a grand flourish. “Come right in.”
We stand awkwardly in the foyer, neither of us saying a word, just staring each other up and down. She doesn’t look all that well, either. Her eyes are bloodshot and the bags under them are even worse than the last time I saw her. She put on a good face that day, but I could still see how this was wearing away at her.
She finally gives a long sigh and begins to speak. “So… I talked to Nat, who talked to Nikki, and… well, I just heard you were in bad shape, that’s all.”
“Hooray for the Hanson grapevine. So glad to know everyone’s talking about me. Can you guys just let me fall apart in peace?”
“We really can’t. Some of us care about you.”
“And yet you’re the one here to check on me. The one I’d imagine cares the least about me.” It’s the alcohol talking, I swear it is. Even as the words come out my mouth, I want to punch myself for each syllable. I’m only digging myself in deeper with each biting remark.
“I may not be Taylor, but I’m still capable of loving you.”
My stomach turns. It’s amazing how she can manage to wrap a compliment up in an insult like that. I can’t even say that I know she means well, because I really have no clue what any of this means. And I don’t think that’s just the alcohol confusing me.
“Kate, why did you come here?”
She takes a hesitant step toward me. I can almost see her internal struggle over it. “I told you. I wanted to check on you. I’m really worried. I don’t know what’s going on with you right now, but it doesn’t sound good.”
“Why are you worried, though?”
“Zac, we’ve been together for six years. No matter what happens – no matter what’s already happened – I can’t just erase you from my memory… or my heart. That’s why this is all so tough for me. Do you get that at all?”
I nod. I don’t trust myself to speak. I know exactly what she means. I can’t tell her, but if I had to choose between her and Taylor, I don’t think I could. They both fill these voids, these needs, in me in such different ways. I don’t know that I ever believed in soulmates, but if I did, I’d have to wonder if it isn’t possible for a person to have more than one.
“I do get that,” I finally manage to say, and my voice sounds so weak and far away. “Katie, you know I love you. I don’t want this to be over between us.”
“I’m just not sure what other option we have…” she replies. “I mean, it’s already all underway now.”
I reach out and tentatively run my hand across her cheek. She doesn’t push me away, so I take that as a good sign and I push on further. “But you don’t want it to be over, either. Do you?”
“I just don’t know. I really don’t,” she says, almost leaning into my touch. “I mean, I keep looking at Natalie. She’s gone through so much more than me and somehow she’s holding together. Maybe she’s just stronger than me. But if she can carry her load, why can’t I carry mine?”
“Stay with me. We can carry this load, together.” My voice is barely more than a whisper and I can hardly believe I’m even asking that of her. She’ll say no, I’m sure.
“Okay.”
I stare at her blankly, unsure if I’ve heard her correctly. “Really?”
“Just… just for tonight. After that, I don’t know what will happen.”
“Neither do I,” I reply, and she has no idea just how honest of a statement it is.