Indian Tribal Dances
August 24, 2007
To my utter frustration, the rest of that day passes without incident, and the next one seems poised to do the same. The headache is still there, a dull throb pounding at my head all day. But nothing happens. Vague shadows and notions pass by my eyes, but I can’t hold onto any of them.
It doesn’t seem totally fair to blame Kate for pulling me out of that vision and ruining everything, but it’s tempting.
There’s really no rhyme or reason to any of this, so I just have this uncontrollable urge to blame someone. I suppose I could blame myself. And mostly, I do. It’s eating away at me all day, although that’s possibly because I’ve decided to lock myself in the house and not leave every again.
Of course, someone has to come along and thwart that plan. Somewhere around noon, Ike begins calling. First he calls the landline, – why the hell do we have that anyway? – then my cell phone. Then he alternates between the two until I’ve turned the ringers off on both. I just want to be left alone so that I can drift away uninterrupted, even though I seem to be getting farther and farther away from the visions I want to lose myself in.
I’m not even letting myself near the phones to see if he’s calling, but it still doesn’t surprise me at all when I hear an insistent knock at the door, followed by what sounds suspiciously like someone pressing their entire body against the doorbell.
I’ll give Ike credit for one thing – he’s a stubborn motherfucker. Under other circumstances, although I can’t really think of any, I’d probably appreciate that quality more.
“Zac! I know you’re in there! If you don’t let me in, I will call the cops to bust this door down.”
Like I said – stubborn motherfucker.
I guess I can’t fight it anymore. Ike has tried to be there for me, and that’s more than I deserve, so I don’t really have any choice but to open the door for him. When I do, he teeters forward and nearly falls into the house, one fist raised to knock on the door again. I can’t help giggling, but only a little. The serious look on his face tells me that laughing isn’t going to make this easier for me.
“What the hell? I was really hoping you had fallen and broken a leg or something, because otherwise there is no excuse for not answering my calls for five fucking hours.”
“Has it been that long?” I ask, adopting a blank look, although I’m only half joking. Time has become such a relative concept to me lately that I really don’t know how long I’ve been ignoring him. Which reminds me, I don’t think I’ve eaten all day. That’s probably not good. So before Ike can reply, I take off toward the kitchen, hoping he follows behind me.
And of course he does. “Seriously, what the hell, Zac? Yes, it’s been that long. I heard through the grapevine that you passed out yesterday morning when Kate was here – which reminds me, why the fuck was Kate here yesterday morning?”
“She umm… spent the night,” I reply and wince in advance of the barrage of questions I expect that to bring on. For the moment, I’m spared. “That grapevine you speak of goes both ways. She heard I wasn’t doing too well, so she came to check on me. Am I a fucking child now? Do I have to constantly be under someone’s supervision?”
“With everything you’ve told me in the past month, you’re lucky I don’t have you under professional supervision.”
I roll my eyes at that. “I’m reasonably certain you can’t have me committed against my will. Although, the way things have been going, I’m not sure it would be against my will…”
“What’s going on now?” he asks. “You know, I do care about you. And you look like a wreck. So would you mind telling me why you’re considering voluntary commitment?”
“Like so many other things I’ve told you, I don’t think you would believe me if I did.”
“Try me,” Isaac says. “I find my threshold for ridiculous statements from you is actually quite high. Always has been, but even more so these days. So just try me.”
I look up from the sandwich I’ve been assembling. “Okay. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. I’ve had these headaches, right? They started the day you took me to where Taylor died. And first it was just headaches, but then there were these visions that came with the headaches. That’s the only thing I can think of to call them. Want to break out the straitjacket now or can I keep going?”
He crosses his arms. “Keep going. It’s surprisingly amusing to watch your complete mental breakdown.”
“Thanks,” I reply. “So, the day you called me, when I was in the office, I had just had a vision, but it was different. I was actually in it. And I think somehow I went back in time. To the time I’m missing.”
I take a big bite of the sandwich to shut myself up before I tell Isaac just exactly what happened in that vision. He watches me closely, probably waiting for the punchline. I’m prone to some pretty ridiculous tangents and rambles, but I think this one is even worse than what I could actually invent. And, worse yet, it’s not invented at all. It’s reality.
“Okay,” he finally says, drawing the word out for several seconds. “How do you know it wasn’t just some… I don’t know, hallucination? Delusion?”
“I suppose it could be. That would explain why I lost so much time the first time it happened, in the studio. But it wasn’t like that when Kate was here… I think. I’m not really sure.”
“So that’s the weirdness that Kate was talking about.”
“I suppose so,” I reply. “I didn’t really get fully into that vision. It was more like a dream, really. Except Kate said when she found me, I was… catatonic, I guess. Like one of those seizures where the person is just really still, you know?”
Isaac’s mouth falls open. “You’re very nonchalant about all of this, do you know that? Why aren’t you in a hospital?”
“Because I have to be nonchalant or else I really would go crazy. If I went to a hospital, they’d just call me crazy and lock me up somewhere. That isn’t going to fix this. I know, in my heart, that I’m not crazy. Something is just… wrong. But not with me. With the world.”
“And you’re going to fix it, are you? Are you a superhero?”
“If not me, then who?” I ask, throwing my arms up in the air. “Who else can fix it when the rest of you are carrying on like you don’t see that everything is all wrong?”
“I guess the rest of us don’t see it like you do. How do you know you’re so right about this?”
“I just do, okay? None of this makes sense. I’m positive I’m not going insane. So, the only other explanation is that the world is wrong. I have to believe that.”
I don’t sound desperate. I sound resolute, and I suppose that’s why Isaac doesn’t argue any further. I know I still haven’t fully won him over, but he’s willing to humor me just a bit longer.
“I just can’t be that convinced. I don’t see it the way that you do.”
“Tell me your world makes sense with Taylor gone. I dare you.” It’s a low blow, but I know it will shut him up. “And speaking of that, his death itself makes no sense. The way it happened, I mean. How can you just accept that? Who was in the car with him, Ike?”
“I don’t know. I guess I haven’t… tried to figure that out. Or thought much about it.”
“That’s all the proof I need that this world is wrong. You know that neither of us would just accept that when it makes no sense. Something is very wrong here, and I have to keep trying to figure out what.”
“And how are you going to do that?”
“I really don’t know. I thought I had a grasp on how these visions worked, but then that slipped away from me again. If I could just figure that out and somehow get back in time to fix this… That’s the best answer I’ve got right now.”
“It’s not much to go on.”
“No. It’s not,” I reply, stuffing the last of the sandwich in my mouth. “But it’s all I’ve got. Do you understand how desperate I am? I can’t just let this go on without trying. I can’t go on in this world.”
Isaac nods. “Okay. If that’s what you want, I can’t stop you from… doing whatever you’re going to do. You’re not wrong that everything here doesn’t really make sense.”
“Yeah. Tell me about it. I just have to figure out how to control the visions again. I don’t trust myself to drive, though, what with my tendency to black out now. So if you want to humor me, could you take me to the office?”
“What are you planning to do, anyway? Hold a séance? Indian tribal dances?”
“Something musical, yes. But I’m pretty sure dancing is not the way to bring Taylor back. Not my dancing, at least.”
Ike laughs at that and it’s a big relief. Things were getting tense, so I’m glad to break that tension somewhat. If he wasn’t convinced that he needed to help me out, he’s relaxed enough now to go along with my plan.
“Alright, come on,” he says. “I don’t know what you’re going to do, but I might as well help.”
He pulls out his keys and I follow him out of my house and into his car. We’re both pretty quiet during the drive to the office. There’s not much I can say to explain what I’m going to do – as if I’m even sure what it is – so we just make a little bit of small talk and try to keep things light.
When we arrive at the office, we both sit in the car for a moment. I don’t know what Ike is thinking, but I’m just trying to get my nerve up for this. I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I’ve got to act like I do if I’m going to get him to go along with this. I take a deep breath and try to look like I know what I’m doing. I’ve never been good at that, because let’s face it – usually I have no clue. But I’ve got to try now.
I step out of the car and Ike follows me. Once we’re in the office, I head straight to the studio, and that’s where my resolution falters a bit. I think Ike can sense my hesitance and he clears his throat to get my attention.
“I’m gonna go out in the main office while you do whatever it is you’re gonna go in here. Just, umm, yell if you need anything, okay?”
“Okay,” I reply, then offer him a smile. “Thanks for doing this.”
“I don’t even know what I’m doing, but you’re welcome.”
He’s out of the room before I can admit that I don’t know what I’m doing either. I sit down at the piano and pull out the wedding invitation. I take my time smoothing it out on the piano’s stand, trying to calm my nerves during the time that takes. I let my mind drift, giving in to that hazy feeling that plagues it. I can’t quite feel or see Taylor yet, but I know it won’t be long.
Here goes nothing.