It’s exhausting for me to narrow my thoughts, but I fill my mind with the idea of vision and truth—and of Toby. I think about the pictures I’ve seen of him, the way Costa has his own childlike side that tugs at my soul and makes me know what a wonderful father he must have been. And could be again. I think about how Costa and I both have parents who disastrously failed us and how he would never do that to Toby. He’s done so much already for the sake of his son. Despite his flaws, Costa is deserving, and he should be with his son.
It’s then that Costa shoots into my sight. Unlike the last time I saw him under after he first tripped me, his eyes are clear. He touches a hand to Sam. Even in the haze of the dark world, I can see their shared determination.
Sam repositions me so that we are holding on to each other’s wrists, and he can maneuver more easily. The under substance we are in is pressing against my body, making me claustrophobic, even as Sam is able to fluidly guide us. While I know that I’m here to augment Sam’s vision power, I nonetheless feel utterly useless, like a weight that is slowing him down.
Time is again elusive, but I try not to worry about how long we’ve been under. This is not about my discomfort at all, so I’m more than willing to swallow this disorientation and unpleasantness. Costa takes my other hand to ease some of Sam’s hindrance. Flashes of glittery light splash before my eyes for a moment.
He’s my tripper, I think.No wonder I react to him when I’m under.
There is a brief moment in which he appears to get a wash of death-tripping pleasure from our touch as well, and his body nearly spasms, but he’s able to shake it off.
Sam notices both of our responses, but he doesn’t stop moving.
There’s the occasional flash of lighter area as we traverse territory. While it’s hard to understand distance, based on the stream of pressure that travels over my skin, it feels to be significant. Sam occasionally slows us to a stop and then darts us in another direction.
He’s hunting, I think.
I grow increasingly concerned when he winces and turns away, so I again direct my energy to him. I close my eyes because the dark and the totally unsettling sensory experience here might be interfering.
There comes a point when I start to ache. At first, it’s only minimal hurt, a feeling of soreness. But then later, after we’ve explored for what I assess to be hours and hours, a cold deep pain reaches into my bones. I feel as though I’m being drained, that my insides are turning into liquid ice and being sucked from my body. The silence under here is not my friend, but I’m happy that Costa and Sam cannot hear what I would vocalize.
With hope, I use what’s left of my strength to angle my head through the current so that I can see Sam, but there’s no sign that he is any closer. My eyes close again, and I no longer have the ability to straighten my thoughts or to control where they go. I need to sleep. I need the pain to stop. I need to vanish. The physical and emotional emptiness inside me becomes more than I can fight off, and I black out.
I regain consciousness to the sound of stone smashing apart as the three of us crash to the surface. Broken concrete and patio tile fall around me, and I cough repeatedly and try to take in air. There is more noise when the shattered material reforms and rebuilds the solid surface below us. I roll onto my stomach and continue coughing deeply, saliva accumulating in my mouth, until I am drooling onto fresh tile. I desperately need water, but then I remember what’s happening. I push up onto my knees and look around. It’s still night, but the outside lights are on, so I can see Costa wobbling to a stand and Sam on all fours with his head on the ground. I keep looking.
Oh God, there’s no one else.
“Sam?” I’m raspy and raw, probably barely audible. “Sam?”
He lifts his head. I don’t have to ask because I know the answer.
He didn’t find Toby.
I crawl to Costa. My body is yearning for food and human contact, but I push hard against my surge impulses. They’ll have to wait. When I reach him, I wrap my body over his and feel his sobbing penetrate through me.
“I’m so sorry.”
Nothing but devastation is coming from him. He keeps his arms over his face, and his fingers wad tightly in his hair as he comes undone. Sam lies down on his side in front of Costa and puts an arm around him so that our friend is sandwiched between us in whatever comfort we can offer.
“I looked everywhere. I promise you. I looked until I couldn’t anymore. Costa, there was no sign of him.”
Costa lets out such an anguished wail that my heart threatens to never recover. Any sense of surge dissipates immediately, and I can tell from the way Sam is holding himself that his has, too.
A surge, it seems, cannot survive such grief.
I ease away from the boys and let them hold each other. This is, in many ways, pain that they share alone. I get myself inside and to the kitchen sink where I vomit and then run my face under water. I drink from the tap, but even under the noise of the faucet, I can hear Costa’s cries. I really believed that we would find Toby. I did. I turn off the water and see that Costa is now standing. He shoves Sam hard enough to send him flying back a few feet, so I rush back outside.
Costa is unglued and hysterical. “He’s dead! Toby is dead!” This isn’t a surge. It’s just raw agony. He lunges again, pounding his fists into Sam’s chest. “It’s happening all over. Oh God, I don’t want to do this. Sammy, make it stop! I’ll do anything. Just make it stop!”
Sam tries to grab him, but he has his own tears to compete with now. “I know. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. You’re going to get through this, Costa. I’m here. Stella is here.”
Suddenly, Costa stops and goes silent just for a moment. “I’m not living like this, not anymore. I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to be here. I won’t do it.”
“You don’t have a choice, brother.” Sam is as destroyed as Costa, but somehow, he is able to hold it together for his friend. “Youwillfind a way. You will.”
“I need to be alone,” Costa says flatly. Then, he looks at me. “Thank you both. For everything. I just need to be alone.”
“Of course.” Sam hesitates, but then he walks to me.
