On the Heights

November-10-2012

She was panting slightly as she stepped onto the landing after climbing the steep staircase. Reaching out to brush a soft hand against the weathered oak railing she pauses to catch her breath. Her heartbeat slows as she glances back towards the steep staircase. The stairs spiraled down into the darkness. The meager light from the incandescent bulb set into the wall near the door on the landing barely touched the shadowed shroud draping the stairs; it really was a long way down. Taking a deep breath she stepped away from the solid railing and moved towards the landing's single door. She stopped in the doorway. The doorway led out to a balcony of sorts, a small area open to the elements and enclosed by an intricate iron railing. A figure is leaned up against the iron at the far end of the balcony. The figure leans against his hands; his head is down hanging under his shoulders as he unseeingly stares through the wood beneath his feet. The woman takes a small step forwards and after a quick breath she speaks.

"Why do you come up here?" she asked in a light lilting voice.

The man turns his head away from the view in front of him. He glances at the speaker standing behind him, shrugs and then turns back. His hands tighten on the railing in front of him for a moment and then his grip loosens.

"I come up here because I like heights," he says simply then he pauses as though deciding how much he should reveal. He continues hesitantly, "they remind me of… something."

She steps forward moving out further onto the balcony. They were at the top of an old windmill, old and yet still maintained. Most other windmills she'd seen didn't have electricity or lights in them. She brushes the thought aside, it wasn’t important right now.

She takes another step and hesitantly glances over the railing at the ground below. Immediately after she swallows and closes her eyes. It was quite far down.

"What does it remind you of," she gasps, her eyes still closed. She really didn't like heights. Summoning her resolve she opens her eyes; she didn't come all the way up here to back down now.

He grimaces at the question, although something in his posture told her that he had expected it.

"It reminds me that I have a choice," he says slowly.

"A choice? How so?"

"It reminds me that I don't have to live like this."

"What?" A thought hits her and she stops. Once more she glances at the ground below, "You don't mean you could…"

He glances back at her as she trails off. His lips curve into a faint smile before he looks away. Her breath had caught as she looked into his eyes. His eyes were cold, unchanging, and almost lifeless. His smile had not touched his eyes. It hadn't for years but this time it was worse. Somehow tonight was worse.

"What's wrong? What happened?"

His lips move silently, and she glances anxiously at him but says nothing. If he was going to speak then he would. Eventually.

She knew that years ago he had lost someone he cared about. In ways he had never recovered from the loss. She wondered if he ever would. There had been times back then when she had thought he was going to go insane. Even now she wasn't entirely sure that he hadn't. The loss haunted him still and although he hid it well she could still tell.

"I… worry about people. Especially my close friends and family. The people who are most important to me."

She nodded even though he couldn't see her. She knew this and had known for quite some time. It was a problem really, but it was part of who he was.

"Most of the time I can tell when something is wrong with someone I… know."

The pause after "I" was obvious to her ears; he'd considered what to say next and had chosen "know" rather than a stronger word. In his own mind at least he was trying to downplay the importance of a certain individual.

"Sometimes I'm wrong but generally…" He trails off and shrugs. Once more his fingers tighten on the cold railing. He falls silent and stares moodily off into the distance. His knuckles turn white.

"What's wrong Rick?" she says slowly, carefully.

He glances back over his shoulder at her and shrugs.

"When someone brushes me off, it worries me more. The more I worry, the more I want to make sure they're alright."

He falls silent and closes his eyes. She moves up to stand beside him and cautiously she rests her own palms against the cold railing. Her eyes remain on him, carefully averted from the drop in front of her.

"What happened?"

"I guess I should have expected it. She blew up at me. She told me to stop."

That can't be all that’s on his mind, she thought, there was more to this than he was saying. She waited for the rest. He took a breath and fell silent. Together they watched the moon rise high above. Eventually he began speaking again.

“What she said isn’t bothering me. No, it’s more the way that she said it. She was angry. She gave me no warning before, no warning at all that she wanted me to stop bugging her, instead she just blew up at me,” Rick sighs and runs a hand through his short cropped brown hair, “She said that she just wanted me to read her signals, leave her alone when she wanted to be left alone. But you know me Elaine. I’m better with books. Better with the written word than I am with people. Some people I can read well, but others… She confuses me. Confuses me more than most. Her asking me to read her signals is akin to asking me to read her mind.”

Elaine said nothing and continued to watch him. All he needed was someone to talk at. Someone who he could work through this with.

“It doesn’t help that she’s important to me. More important than she should be considering that we’re colleagues,” he slows again to take a deep breath then continues in a rush, “What she said doesn’t bug me that was her choice; it’s her life after all. But she should have told me sooner. I lost a friend years ago. And when I lost her it felt like this. I don’t want to go through that again.”

Ah. So that was the problem.

“Rick, you’re too hard on yourself. That was a long time ago. It won’t happen again. It’ll be ok.”

He looks up at her, there is something burning in the back of his eyes. Her breath catches and she stares at him. It’s an emotion. It actually touched his eyes. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen that. This wasn’t a good sign though. She thought she knew what he was feeling. There was fear in those eyes.

“Will it?” he asks, his voice deep and distant, his eyes as hard as granite.

Elaine wished she could say that it would all get better, but somehow she couldn’t.