VIN (a.k.a. "Untitled") PT 5

As we begin walking Earnest’s phone begins to ring. He looks at the display.

“I have to take this. I’ll catch up with you?” He asks.

I nod and with a turn begin walking away. Slowly, but not so slowly that I can overhear. I am not sure if it is out of a need to be polite or because Earnest is a hallucination and I don’t want to add any more details to the mess that has emerged so far. The less that I know at this moment will make things easier later. You know, when I’m in the nut house and they're deciding on treatment, not hearing his conversation may save me from electric shock therapy or something worse. Can it get worse than electric shock therapy?
  I walk at my chosen pace and find calming thoughts. When I hear his footsteps come up behind me and feel him come into step at my side I start asking questions. “So what is it that you do for a living?”

“What does it look like I do for a living?” An irritated voice asks.

I turn and find myself looking at the groundskeeper. He’s not happy.

“Where did he go?”

“Where’d who go?” He asks.

“I’m sorry. I thought that you were someone else.”

“Yeah. Yeah.” He grumbles and continues his way down the walk, collecting discarded bottles, containers, juice boxes, and empty potato chip bags.

I turn and look back at the bench Earnest was headed to when he left me. No one is there. I make a slow 360 turn, studying my surroundings. He’s gone again. Panic pushes at my insides. Fight it...fight it. Whatever this is...fight it!

Deciding that I’m stronger than whatever is happening, I continue on as originally planned. This time opting to enjoy the park instead of going to the art museum. I walk around for a bit until I spot the gazebo. A large white gazebo sits alone on a peninsula in the center of the park’s lake. No one appears to be sitting in it. I walk out on to the path leading to it and study the lake. There are couple of kids on paddle boats, no one seems interested in the beautiful gazebo. I decide to claim it for my own if only for a time. I have an urge to run to it, secretly wishing that I had the supplies necessary to lock myself in, indefinitely. Into peace, solitude, and safety. I settle for a seat that affords me views of the park, the lake, as well as the gazebo’s entry, and a long meditation.

“Are you ready to trust me?” Earnest asks.

I open one eye. Earnest is sitting next to me and looking at me intently. He’s studying me. My eyes, my face, the angle of my head, my body language.

“And I should trust you, based on what?”

“I’m not a Spaniard.” One corner of his mouth raises in a grin.

I do not smile back.

“I’m not the Spaniard in your story.” He corrects.

“That is still a weak argument for trusting you. What is it that you do? For a living? The thing that makes you disappear for random bits of time without explanation?” I ask.

Earnest’s eyes change. I feel like I’m watching a wall go up.

“That’s classified.” He says.

“As in what?”

“That’s classified.”

“Why are you following me? Why is it so important that I accept that you exist?”

He looks away and studies the lake in front of us. His eyes return to mine before he answers.

“Let’s just say that it's important to me that you know that you’re okay.”

“Why?”

“Has anyone ever told you that you ask too many questions?”

“Once or twice.” I answer, attempting a sly grin.

My lack of control over my facial expressions must not have changed because Earnest smiles. It's a lovely one. I use the lull in the conversation to calmly communicate what's most important at this moment.

“You need to go Earnest. I need you to go.”

He looks at me. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do.” I say looking at the floor.

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes. I do.”

“Why?”

I look at him. “You aren’t real. I need you to leave so that I can accept that you aren’t real.”

“I am real.” Earnest says. He smiles reassuringly.

“You’re a hallucination, an eerily good hallucination, but still, a hallucination. I need to challenge the hallucination. I can’t do that until you leave.”

He reaches out, takes my hand, and places it to his chest. “I’m real.”

“No.”

“You can feel my heart beat. How can I not be real to you?”

“I have never hallucinated before. There could be tactile aspects to a hallucination. I don’t know.” On the other hand, his heart is beating at an alarming rate. “Have you been...running?”

There is no response.

It is my turn to raise a wall. “It’s time for you to go. It was nice meeting you Earnest.”

“No.” Earnest says. “I’m not going. I agree that you believe something that’s not true. I agree that you need to challenge it. The idea that you’re hallucinating is what’s not true. Challenge the hallucination, accept that I’m real.”

I shake my head.

“Vin. Listen to me, if I go, no matter how the rest of your life continues, you’ll always worry, something inside of you will always be a little bit less than sure of whether something is real or not. You’ll always be questioning. You need to accept that I’m real. That others see me as real. It’s the only way to get through this. It’s the only way to move forward.”

I find myself unsure of what to do. This could be a moment to call for help and be in and out of therapy for the rest of my life or a chance to change things. Do I trust him?

“Let me in a little bit Vin. Let go of the burden that you’re carrying. Tell me about your world. The one in your dreams.”

I want to let go of it. It’s difficult. I feel as if I’m adrift. I have crafted a beautiful dream world. The ultimate fantasy, but to describe it to someone...