Chapter 18
EIGHTEEN
Wednesdays don’t seem to draw many patrons, and before I know it, I find myself heading to bed. Thanks to Tally’s offer, I freshened up in the restaurant’s restroom, washing myself over the sink, brushing my teeth, and neatly braiding my hair.
I lay under my covers, snugly clad in my sleep pants, an old band shirt, and a comfy hoodie. It’s fucking cold in my van. I’ve already cranked up the heater, which lets out a feeble sputter as it tries to combat the chill.
Since it’s still relatively early, I decide to grab my Nintendo Switch and indulge in some Zelda.
Life in a van can get pretty boring without Wi-Fi or television, so I spend most evenings either engrossed in a book or lost in the virtual world of video games.
But even gaming loses its charm after a while.
I follow the game’s storyline, but my interest wanes, prompting me to set the Switch aside.
Rolling onto my back, I gaze at the soft, twinkling fairy lights.
The gentle hum of the radio fills the space, lulling me into a state of relaxation as my eyelids grow heavier.
I need a good night’s sleep to be at my best tomorrow.
I’m determined to prove to North that I can do the job.
Just as I’m drifting into slumber, the radio suddenly goes silent. My eyes snap open, but the lights are still on. It’s just the radio that has stopped working.
It’s silent.
Too silent.
The silence is deafening.
My heart rate picks up drastically, and I sit up, starting to pant, reaching out to push the radio’s power button, but it stays silent. I push it again and again, but nothing happens. Pulling my knees toward me, I try to breathe, but it’s useless.
Where I was cold a second ago, I’m sweating now.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” Saylor asks from where he is crouching before the bed at eye level. I hadn’t noticed him and nearly jump out of my skin at his words.
How long has he been there?
Why do I never feel him coming?
“Next time, just say ‘boo.’ It does the job,” I hiss out sarcastically, trying to catch my breath.
“What, you think I’m Casper?” He chuckles, but his eyes are concerned and never leave mine.
“You sure look like him,” I retort, making him laugh, which wasn’t my intention.
His presence soothes my nerves, and the panic slowly subsides as he fills the silence. But I’m still trembling like a leaf.
“Hey, Boo,” he whispers affectionately, his expression soft, effectively turning my remark into a pet name I don’t like.
Then why does your chest feel warm, Sloan?
“What’s wrong? What happened?” he murmurs, searching my face. “Had a bad dream again?”
I bite my lip, pondering what to say, but ultimately decide to open up to him. He’s witnessed my anxiety for the third time, and every time, he has drawn me out of my spiral. He deserves to at least know why I’m such a nutcase.
It’s not like he could tell anyone.
“The radio went out,” I simply state, hugging my knees even tighter to myself.
Saylor looks over to the radio in question and back at me. “And that triggered what?” he asks, seemingly already understanding there’s more to the situation.
I release a long breath. “I was locked away in a silent, dark room. Now I can’t stand darkness or silence when I’m inside somewhere alone.”
He furrows his brows, tilting his head as his eyes flick between mine. “Why?”
“Why what?” I ask, my voice soft. I have to look away. His ocean blue eyes are too probing.
“Why would someone lock you away?” He hovers closer to me, now only a breath away, and even though I know it can’t be, I nearly feel his breath on my throat, and it makes me shudder.
“Because they thought I was crazy,” I whisper, my eyes filling with tears I can’t stop.
“Because you can see what they can’t,” he states, and my gaze rises to meet his sad eyes. I bite my lip and nod, trying to hold back a sob. “How long were you in there?” he asks, and I have to gulp before I can answer him.
“Three months.” My voice is barely audible.
Three months that felt like years.
“Fuck,” Saylor whispers. “I’m so sorry, Slo.”
The tears start to fall for real as I tell him what I haven’t told anyone ever before since nobody was close enough anymore.
“It was hell. And when I finally got out, the only person that mattered to me had died two weeks prior. My nan died while I was in hell. I wasn’t there for her in her last moments.
” My voice breaks. “She died alone.” A whimper escapes me, and I hope he doesn’t think I’m as pathetic as I feel.
“We all die alone,” Saylor states, his voice full of emotion. I nod, understanding what he’s telling me, but I still hate myself for not being able to be there and hold her hand in her last moments. “Did she… go into the light?” he asks while I wipe away my tears with the sleeves of my hoodie.
“She’s at peace.” I nod, my voice breaking. That’s the only thing that kept me sane the last year, knowing that at least she was all right.
Saylor makes his way onto the bed beside me. He sits propped up, leaning against the van wall, and motions for me to lay down again.
“Sleep, it’s already late. I plopped into Hunter, berating Nash about not bugging you tomorrow when you start your job. You have to tell me all about how that happened, but first, you need to sleep so you can give Thundercunt a demonstration of your awesomeness.”
I huff a watery laugh as I lay back beside Saylor. “There is nothing to tell. It seems Hunter put in a good word for me after he found me stranded here and took pity on me.”
“I wondered why we’re here now,” he muses, crossing his ankles.
“I’m here because I wanted to drive to the next town to look for a job, but Van-essa gave out under me, so I had to improvise.”
He sputters a laugh. “Van-essa?”
I shrug. “That’s the old lady’s name.”
“Okay, so that’s unfortunate, but you wouldn’t have found a job in a few-mile radius anyway. We’re heading into the off-season, and no one searches for staff now. Your best chances are here. And it seems your problem is solved now anyway.”
“You could have told me that earlier,” I mumble, pulling the covers closer and yawning.
Saylor chuckles. “I would have if you’d told me your plans. Now sleep.”
“I don’t think I can. It’s too silent,” I mumble, looking up at Saylor, who seems lost in thought.
He’s so good-looking.
And kind.
I’m so glad he’s here.
And I know I shouldn’t be.
“My mom always sang us boys a lullaby when we couldn’t sleep. It’s one our great-great-great-grandmother…” he snickers, “… invented, and every Jones boy got sung to sleep with it.”
“Were there always only boys in your family?” I ask, frowning.
He shrugs. “It seems so. I never heard of a daughter. My father was an only child, and his father had two brothers.” A little line forms between his eyebrows while he thinks, and it’s adorable.
“I can sing it to you if you want,” he offers but doesn’t look at me, his expression sad as he gazes into nothing.
“But that would mean you’re singing it to a girl who isn’t a Jones,” I tease, trying to lighten his mood.
He turns to me to give me a grin, his dimples so accentuated. He has a birthmark in the middle of his right cheek, and I itch to put my finger on it, but I don’t move. He starts to sing softly in a beautiful, deep voice, and my heart flips as he doesn’t stop looking at me while he sings.
In a coastal town, by the moon’s soft glow,
Lobster boats gently in the harbor row.
Fishermen set sail, as the night unfolds,
Their tales of the sea, in the darkness, they hold.
Hush now, my child, close your sleepy eyes,
Dream of lobster boats under starry skies.
The fisher’s lullaby will guide you through,
With tales of the ocean and love so true.
On the rolling waves, where the seagulls play,
Fishermen work hard through night and day.
They cast their traps down to the ocean’s floor,
In search of lobsters, they’ll catch many more.
Hush now, my child, close your sleepy eyes,
Dream of lobster boats under starry skies.
The fisher’s lullaby will guide you through,
With tales of the ocean and love so true.
So rest now, my dear, as the night turns to day,
In the fisherman’s lullaby, find your way.
With the sea as your cradle, you’ll slumber so tight,
Dream of lobster boats in the soft, gentle night.
When the song is done, he waits a few seconds, searching my face.
“Beautiful,” I whisper, not exactly sure if I’m talking about the song or the singer.
Saylor only smiles before he starts over, singing the lullaby on repeat, watching me as my eyes grow heavy and fall closed.