Episode 106: Time Lost (Rhyss)

For a second, all he could hear was the door closing behind Talise. All he could see was Talise, before she’d gone through it.

He opened and closed his fists.

“Friend of yours?” someone said from the couch. His mom. Not his mom, his other mom. Whoever she was.

She’d turned the tv off.

“Probably,” he answered. He didn’t know what that even meant.

“Have you met before?” his dad asked him.

Met. Yeah, they’d met.

“A few years ago,” he told them.

They both looked back at him. Expectant. More than a little curious. Wanting someone who wasn’t him.

“She said her name was Ali,” he added. He didn’t know why he said that. It didn’t matter. He doubted they cared what she told Rhyss years ago.

“You dated?” his dad asked. He noticed everything, worse than Spence.

“Sort of,” Rhyss said.

Dated…he guessed that was what people called it. Dating felt like something young teenagers did, like go to the movies and flash their braces awkwardly at each other. He was pretty sure dating involved getting the braces tangled, too.

He and Talise hadn’t dated. They’d…vortexed or something. Met, by accident. Kissed, by gravity or magnetism or something else like that. Become entangled.

But she’d had so many secrets, behind that blush.

And he’d had his mom.

The end.

“Yeah,” he said.

“Would you like me to prepare a large lunch? It’s more private here than the dining hall,” his dad offered.

Rhyss imagined meeting his kids in front of Niels Poulsen.

He imagined Talise having to admit who he was, to her family.

“That might be good,” he said. “Thanks.”

He got a some travel packs from the drawer where his parents kept them. “I’m going out,” he said, and he did before they could try to stop him.

The door closed too hard behind him. He stood in the hallway, staring at the wall. It was covered in paintings he suspected his mom had done.

One of them was of an eye, on a muddy brown background, tear-streaked and heavy.

He liked that one.

All the mountains and other junk she’d painted could go live in fakeville.

That eye was true.

He was losing his mind.

He didn’t even know how to find his mom. She was off somewhere in the woods with someone she liked a lot better than she liked him. Emily was gone.Ali was really Talise and she was married to Niels Poulsen of all people.

His life was falling apart.

He stalked off toward the conference room.

It took him forever to find because this house was enormous and not very straightforward, but he got there eventually. He should have just gone outside. He found outside a bunch of times before he ever found the conference room.

But he was there now. He transported to the mansion on the peninsula. It was night, dark, just a touch of pink on the western horizon. The ocean glowered at him.

He glowered back.

He had kids.

His kids didn’t know their own dad. Just like him.

How could he have done that to two innocent people? Just so he could look after his mom.

He went to that piano and banged some of the keys too hard. It sounded right, so he did it again.

This whole house…it was so sterile and ugly and perfect.

All his anger at his dad, for not being there for him. All his promises to Emily’s twins that he would never, ever, let them grow up alone.

He had kids he’d never met.

Ella and Jax. He tried to picture them. A little Silas-sized Ali and Silas-sized Rhyss. His kids.

He wanted them to know him.

He wanted them to have already known him.

Once he’d known Sam was in the Dells, and freed from prison, he’d brought his mom to see him. He’d hoped it would make her better to see Sam after all this time.

It did, sort of.

She’d definitely been better enough to say some things to Rhyss about how she felt and how much she never wanted to see him again because he’d ruined her life.

So she was off in the woods. Emily was gone. Ali was…

Poulsen.

And the kids. He wanted to meet them right now, even though it was so late at night. 

He went into the kitchen to find himself something to eat, and instead he found himself staring at a cabinet full of liquor bottles.

He’d never drunk before.

He’d never even wanted to drink before. He had responsibilities, like taking care of someone who turned out to hate him.

Giving up everything, for someone who would never appreciate it. Not because she couldn’t, but because she refused. Losing Ali unnecessarily was bad. The kids thing…

He took some kind of thing from the cabinet. It was dark colored and smelled like medicine and fruit.

He drank it.

It tasted as bad as he expected, but he drank some more anyway. A big long gulp until he needed to breathe again.

For a little bit, nothing happened.

Then he got this kind of vague foggy numb feeling. It felt like his brain and his body weren’t working together at all.

The place inside him that was angry just kind of melted into this relaxed place.

Yeah, he was relaxed. It was okay.

He had some more of the fruity medicine stuff.

His problem was, he wanted everything to be okay and it wasn’t. And he didn’t know how to make it okay. But that was okay. He was okay. Everything was okay.

Yeah.

He decided to paint, because he had kids and kids liked art.

He painted a big green alien with purple eyes and big loopy eyelashes, wearing a tutu. Maybe someday he’d give that to Ella. He did another painting of a robot on some kind of moon or something with a ringed planet right behind it. Maybe he’d give that to Jax. Someday. Oils took time to dry.

Kids took time to get to know. Maybe they wouldn’t even like these pictures.

He put them up against the wall to dry. Somehow he lost his balance and got paint on the wall.

All these neutral walls…

He looked at his paints.

He looked at the walls.

He painted.

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