The Downward Spiral of Adam Keir | Chapter 19

He spent the rest of Monday fretting in his office. There was no proof beyond his browser history that Evangeline’s Twitter account had ever existed. The direct messages to and from her had all disappeared, on both his computer and his phone. No posts mentioned her handle. She had even disappeared from the other social media platforms, where she’d only followed him. There wasn’t even any trace of her bouquet in the house. As far as he could tell, she was gone.
            He had to wonder if this was part of what she’d meant when she told him he’d never see her again. Was it really necessary to deactivate all her accounts?
            Then again, she did vanish into thin air back at the motel, so this is the least she could do.
            It turned out that Larisa was so worried for his mental wellbeing that she’d taken the week off. He would’ve been touched by the gesture if it didn’t mean that she would poke her head into his office once every hour or so to check on him. Sometimes she wouldn’t even talk while she did it; she’d poke her head in, stare at him for a beat, and then sigh and leave again. As much as he appreciated her concern, he had to admit that her persistent check-ins were bothersome at best.
            That night, he wasn’t able to sleep. His mind wouldn’t stop running, anxious about what was going on. Was he losing his mind? He wanted to scold himself, tell himself that he was overreacting. But he knew what he’d seen, what he’d done. And yet none of it seemed to have happened.
            In the morning, despite Larisa’s protest, he decided to go to work. She insisted on driving him there, but he counter-insisted that he wanted to walk alone. So she backed down, albeit with reluctance. Rather than change into his work shirt at the pawn shop, he decided to change into it before leaving. After grabbing his coat, mysterious key still in one of the pockets, he left and began his commute to Waller’s Pawn Shop.
            He spent the walk thinking about what question he’d ask Jesse first. Would he ask about the bouquet? About Evangeline’s account? It didn’t help that on top of everything else, he felt scatterbrained. He had no way of telling what had happened and what hadn’t. Was this real? Was any of this really happening to him, or was it all in his head? He held on to the hope that he wasn’t going mad, but his hold was slipping fast.
            At the very least, Jesse didn’t look concerned upon seeing him enter the pawn shop. Instead, he beamed at him, as casual as ever.
            “Hey, man!” he greeted. “What’s up?”
            “Hey, Jess,” Adam replied in a weary voice, ignoring Jesse’s attempt to make small talk. He took a seat on his stool, beside Jesse, as usual. For a few seconds, he was able to pretend that everything was normal.
            “Did you manage to find the woman who sold us that ring?” Jesse asked as he typed away, writing a nonsensical Facebook post.
            If he was being honest, he’d have to admit that he’d forgotten all about Dana Frost and her ring. It was a relief to discover that at least that had happened.
            “No,” he admitted. “I don’t know if I’d be able to, anyway.”
            “That’s a shame. I was kind of curious to see how that would’ve turned out. Do you know her name?”
            “Dana Frost.”
            Jesse opened a new tab on his browser and typed something. Adam didn’t pay attention until he asked, “Dana Frost, secretary and wife of some Dr. Terry Frost?”
            He looked at his friend, then at the computer screen; Jesse had done a Google search on Dana, and the first result was a review of Dr. Frost.
            “I didn’t tell you to Google her,” complained Adam. “Close that s**t.”
            “Says here that he’s a psychologist,” Jesse observed. “So you did see a psych guy?”
            “Close it. Forget about the whole thing.”
            “All right, all right.” Jesse closed the tab, then looked at Adam. “Wouldn’t want to upset the birthday boy on his special day,” he said with a wink.
            For a few beats, Adam only stared at Jesse, processing that remark. The taller man patted his shoulder and grinned at him.
            “Did you forget? Happy Birthday, Mr. Halloween-baby!”
            Adam glanced at the bottom right corner of the computer screen, at the current date; it was indeed October 31^st, both Halloween and his birthday. The realization brought first to his mind the memory of a scene he’d hallucinated a few days prior: Evangeline holding him as he wore Madness’ suit, whispering in his ear that it was his birthday. It was a crazy thought: that it could mean that something was going to happen today.
            That I might lose my mind today.
            But he accepted the idea, despite the fear it caused him.
            Jesse pulled away and turned back to the computer. “We should get dinner tonight. Let’s bring Larisa along. How about it?”
            “Thanks, but you know I don’t celebrate birthdays . . .”
            “You don’t celebrate anything, you old fogey. Let’s change it up!”
            “I don’t know, Jess . . .”
            “Ah, you’ll come around before noon,” remarked Jesse, in a good-natured taunt.
            Adam didn’t reply right away. Instead, he thought about what he wanted to ask Jesse. “Uh, Jesse?”
            “Yeah?”
            “I need to ask you something.”
            “Shoot.”
            He wrung his hands on the counter. “Back at O’Rourke’s office, you told me that Evangeline had contacted you at some point. Evangeline Thompson, the one who changed her name to ‘Eve’ to match mine. Anyway, her account just . . . disappeared yesterday. Not only on Twitter, but everywhere.” He looked at Jesse. “You wouldn’t happen to know what happened . . .” But he trailed off when he noticed his friend’s facial expression.
            Jesse’s eyebrows were arched, one raised in confusion. He was staring at Adam as if he was speaking nonsense. “Adam,” he said, “what are you talking about? ‘Back at O’Rourke’s office’? When?”
            Adam tried to remain composed, hoping that Jesse’s flippant nature meant that he’d only forgotten the encounter. “I don’t remember exactly. A few days ago. A week, maybe?”
            It seemed like Jesse was trying to laugh this off too, but still his confused expression remained. “We didn’t go to O’Rourke’s office last week,” he declared. “I went alone. When I asked if you wanted to come with me, you turned me down. And what’s this about ‘Evangeline’? She some hot fling you met, Romeo?” He ended this teasing remark with a few amused grunts and some elbow jabs.
            But Adam didn’t laugh. He didn’t react at all, physically. On the inside, though, he was in full panic.
            No. No, no, no, that’s not possible! I remember that so clearly. It must have happened!
            His imagination had always been vivid, but never that vivid. There was no way he could’ve imagined the conversation at the bar. Which led him back full circle to a certain troubling thought.
            What if this wasn’t real?
            It’s the only explanation. I got into a car crash or something on my way to or from the motel, and now I’m in limbo. None of this is real. I’m not in the real world anymore. Now I’m in a world without Evangeline, where I can’t apologize to Larisa for the things that I said to her . . .
            The idea overtook him in seconds, and he felt detached from the world around him in the same amount of time. He turned his head away from Jesse, staring down at the counter instead. If this was in his head, he could only wonder where he was in reality. Was he even alive anymore, or was this purgatory?
            The weight that lifted off of my chest when I remembered this idea only proves that it must be true. My subconscious was anxious because there was something I couldn’t understand. But now I understand, and I feel nothing anymore. This isn’t real. I’ve figured it out. Evangeline disappearing from the motel room was the first sign that I’d left reality.
            But where am I now? Lost in my own imagination? I must be.
            Under normal circumstances, he would never have been so quick to believe such a crazy concept. But now it filled in the blanks for him, and gave his mind a clarity that he hadn’t felt in weeks. Somehow it clicked, and there would be no shaking it away.
            How do I get out of here? Then, he wondered, do I want to get out?
            “Adam?” asked Jesse, sounding perplexed and concerned. The fact that his response wasn’t more flippant, like “I was just teasing” or something along those lines, only further cemented Adam’s suspicion.
            Phone, he thought. This will prove it once and for all. I want the phone to ring now, and distract him.
            For a few beats, nothing happened. Yet, right when Adam was about to reconsider, it happened: the phone rang. Jesse hesitated briefly before answering it.
            “Hello, Waller’s Pawn Shop . . . Yes. Um, let me check.” Jesse stood up, but then stared down at Adam. He didn’t walk off until Adam gave him a sidelong glance, after which he finally headed deeper into the shop to examine one of their display cases. “Sorry. What kind of watch?”
            Adam tuned Jesse out and gazed off into space. It could’ve been a coincidence that the phone rang, but it didn’t feel like it. The clearer it became that this could be nothing but a vivid hallucination, the more uneasy he felt.
            I want to go back to reality.
            There had to be a way out. He didn’t know how he got lost in here to begin with, though. So how could he get out?
            Maybe this is like a dream. What would wake me up from a dream?
            Only one idea came into his mind, an idea that terrified him but could be his only chance. It would either free him from his imagination or prove to him that he never left reality. And he knew the way he wanted to execute the idea. He’d known for weeks.
            After glancing at Jesse, making sure that he was engrossed in the watch display, Adam stood up and made his way to the door. Sure enough, Jesse noticed and turned to look at him as he opened it.
            “Adam,” he hissed, “where are you going?”
            Adam hesitated.
            Part of me wants to say something dramatic, he realized. But I’ve never been witty enough to think something like that up on the spot.
            So, instead, he walked out without a word.
            “Adam?” Jesse called his name, but was cut off by the door drifting shut.
            Undeterred, Adam started walking. He didn’t pay much attention; rather, he let his legs guide him to his destination on their own. The journey ended in front of a familiar scene: the train tracks. When he looked down, he discovered that of all the things that had never happened, one thing was still as he recalled it. The pansy that had grown out of the ballast before his very eyes was still there, though it was now dead. He took its presence as a sign that he was making the right decision by doing this.
            He stepped onto the tracks and turned himself to the west, where there was more sky to see. In the distance, he could see the train approaching.
            What convenient timing. It can’t be a coincidence.
            The closer the train got, the more he had to admit to himself that he was afraid. Afraid that he was wrong. After all, he’d heard that if you died in a dream, you’d die in real life as well. What if he didn’t wake up before the train hit him?
            He turned his head up to the sky and took a deep breath. It wasn’t until he felt cold droplets of water splashing onto his face that he realized it was pouring rain. His hands went up to his face, and he ran them down it, smearing the rainwater across his skin and beard.
            I won’t feel any pain, either way. This isn’t real.
            The train grew closer, and as it did he heard its horn rip through the air, trying to make him move. But he stood his ground, blind to danger, determined only to free himself of this illusion. He extended his arms out at his sides, beckoning the train to take him away.
            “Adam!” A voice to his left called out his name. A voice that he recognized. After a car door slammed, he heard her footsteps running toward him, and he turned his head. Larisa was there, sprinting to reach him in time. But the train was faster than her�"it would reach him first.
            “Adam!”
            Staring at his wife, he decided not to look at the train again. Could he have been happy with her here? Maybe she wasn’t cheating on him in this world. But he didn’t care about that risk. All he could think was that in this world, Evangeline didn’t exist, and he couldn’t live with that. He needed to see her again. So as he heard the train growing ever closer, watching Larisa’s growing fright, he closed his eyes.
            She would be the last thing that he saw as he let her go. It was only fitting that way.