The Way Back: Chapter 9

Todd made more than ten jokes about Blair's cooking before she threw a pillow at him. "To-od! Cut it out! You know I can cook when I want to!"

"Well, you'd better hurry up because after making me carry you the last leg of the return trip, I worked up an appetite."

"Making you??? You practically forced me to climb on your back."

"Yeah I forced you. 'Todd, I can't make it back to that little old cabin unless I get a little bit of assistance, will you, kind sir'" He made his voice have a southern accent and raised it a few octaves.

"Oh stop!" she said, throwing another pillow his way.

"You're going to run out of pillows, Babe."

"Well, I'll keep going until they're gone then."

"What are you making?"

"Your favorite."

"Okay, after all this time, I forgot my own favorite."

"You're kidding with me. I know you know your favorite. Let's put it this way, if you had to choose something right now to eat, what would it be?"

He thought about it. He flashed on a silver wrapper being torn open and a lumpy protein bar revealed and left for him. He fought the memory, fearing he'd fall to pieces again, and he didn't want to scare her. He broke out in a sweat, and attempted to disguise it, distracting himself by walking to the fireplace. "This is a nice fire, Blair. Good work. Do we need more wood?"

"No, I don't think so. So, what about your favorite?"

"Okay, if I could have anything right now it would be chicken, maybe roasted or something. But not skinless chicken. It has to have the skin so that it gets crisp. And mashed potatoes on the side. Or pizza. I missed pizza a lot." He was fighting; it was working. He made his way into the kitchen, so he could be closer to her, and found a way to touch her. It was like being grounded against electrocution to have his hand on her or hers on him. He touched her shoulder.

"Well, would you settle for the first? That's exactly what I am making."

"I'll love it, simply because you made it and I have to love it or you will get mad."

She turned toward him and playfully slapped his arm. "Stop it!" He poured some of the wine she purchased, and brought a glass to her, which she sipped while she cooked. He stood, very close to her, and watched as she put the finishing touches on dinner. "Almost done!"

The smell of the food was enticing. The homey fragrance of the roasting chicken when the stove opened reminded him of the days they were first married and she did more cooking. He went up behind her, as she brought the tray out of the stove, and hugged her around her waist. He gently moved her hair and kissed her shoulder. "That smells great, Blair."

"I hope it tastes as good as it smells. Now, go sit down and get ready. I have to serve. One thing you can do is get the salad from the fridge and put it on the table for us."

Todd did as she asked and sat down, and lit the candles she had set out. He drank a bit of the wine he poured for her out of the bottle, and grimaced, asking, "Where's my Scotch?"

"Sorry, I forgot about that! I thought you liked that wine. It's not okay?"

"No, it's fine. This is good."

They ate their dinner and talked, laughing, crying a bit, sharing things that happened while he was away. He asked her to show him pictures; and she was prepared. She had packed photo albums in case he asked about it. They mulled over the photographs, and after finishing the food, stacked the dishes and sat by the fire on the couch; him holding the photo books and she leaning on his shoulder again, with her head resting sweetly, and her hand on his arm. She traced little words on his forearm and dared him to be able to read them. When the last page was turned, he had broken down, seeing Starr in her prom gown, and then finally, pregnant with Hope. She had held him and rubbed his shoulders and stroked his hair. Finally, his emotions seemed spent; he lay on the couch with his head in her lap, and she fed him some popcorn from the fire as they kept talking about old times.

"Well," she said, shifting her position, "that fire really is out now, I need to get another log."

"I'll help get some if we need it." He was up next to her again.

"I'll get it, no trouble." She grabbed the fireplace tongs and headed to lift a log out of the bin. She turned to him with the log enclosed in the claw, and he turned white.

"Todd?"

He backed away from her and started to yell, "No. Get away from me! Not again, no!"

The next thing she knew, he was in the corner, on the floor, pulling his knees to his chest. Closing his eyes, he started to rock and recite his family list. "I have a wife, her name is Blair. I have a daughter, her name is Starr. I have a son, his name is Jack."

She ran to him, and knelt down beside him. In the softest voice, "Todd."

He became louder, "I have a daughter, her name is Starr. I have a sister, her name is Viki. Trust her above all. I have a wife, her name is Blair. I have a wife, her name is Blair."

Blair's hands shook. She did not know what to do to help him. She spoke softly again near his ear, but was careful not to touch him. In her memory somewhere, she accessed the idea that she shouldn't touch him. "Yes, that's right, I'm right here. I'm Blair. I'm your wife."

He stopped talking, but continued rocking. She moved closer, sitting on the floor directly next to him. "Todd. You're in the cabin with me. With Blair. You're safe. You're in Viki's cabin." She held back tears, "Oh, Todd, please." She trailed off, whispering half to herself and half to him. Without warning, he collapsed onto the floor, with her catching his shoulders just before he fell. Easing him to the wooden flooring, she cried and stroked his face and forehead. "Todd."

Blair sat, with the candles burning low across the room, in the near-complete dark. Through her tears she asked him, "what did they do to you? I'll be right back, sweetie, I'm right here." She went back to the fireplace and looked at the tongs again. A wave of nausea hit her. Running back to him, she lifted his head and shoulders onto her lap and continued stroking his hair, imploring him to wake. While running her fingers through the hair she always loved, she ran over in her mind what had happened. The dinner, the beautiful talk, the photos, the tears, his head in her lap, his eyes, his teasing her, his touch. "Please God, please let him be all right. What did those monsters do to him? Please God. Help us." She continued to pet his hair, and plead quietly with him to wake.

She remembered every word he had said curled in that corner. She ran it over and over in her head. Somehow, she knew why it existed. It was the way that he kept from dying or from losing his mind completely. She tried to convince herself, over the hour that passed, that he wasn't tortured every day, that it was a rare occasion, whatever they did to him. She wondered if he were scarred. She wondered if he was ever bleeding or burned, and knew she could never ask. Her eyes were the size of eggs and sore from tears, yet, she could not stop them. Tomas Delgado, who had wooed her and supposedly fell for her, was responsible for sending her Todd to this fate. She felt stupid, guilty, and desperately sad. Alone, she prayed more and waited.

Finally, Todd's eyes slowly fluttered open and met hers. She said to him immediately, "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. I'll be here as long as you need me."

"Blair. I feel like shit."

"You're all right. You just...well, you are all right. You're safe. It's over."

He reached and touched her cheek. "You're crying. I scared you. You know how much I hate the idea of scaring you, Blair. You know me. You know what that means. Don't be afraid of me."

"I'm not afraid of you, Todd. I'm afraid for you."

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