Page 47 of Be With Me

I frowned. I didn’t see what she was getting at. “Okay. So what? Kids pretend all the time. And I was like, what? Four? Five?”

“That’s what I thought, too. I thought you were finally starting to play. You would ‘pretend’ to be Superman pretty often. Especially when something upset you or when the dreams got bad. I always passed it off as a kid being a kid. Mom and Dad never seemed concerned about it, either. At least, not in front of me. You were in school, you were picking up English like crazy, and you even played with some of the kids at recess. And eventually, Superman stopped coming around.”

I frowned at her. I still didn’t know where she was going reliving the past like this. Other than the fact of where I came from. “So, you’re saying you think I have PTSD or something? From when I was a kid?”

“I think it’s more than that, Ty.”

“Yeah, well, you’re not a shrink. So…” I don’t know why I suddenly felt defensive.

Just tell her to go. We don’t need her.

I shook my head. Where the hell had that come from?

“Tyler? You okay?”

I focused on Willow. “Yeah, I’m fine. What are you trying to tell me?”

“Tyler, years later, after we’d both moved to Seattle, I stopped over to tell you about my shitty boss at that job I had. Remember that job?”

“I remember.”

“When I came to your apartment, I met Tony.” She waited for my reaction.

I racked my brain, trying to figure out who the hell she was talking about. I didn’t remember knowing anyone named Tony. “I don’t know anyone named Tony. Are you sure you met him here?”

“Tony was you, Ty. You told me you were Tony.”

My heart began to pound. “What?”

“He’s a little rough around the edges, quite honestly. I think he’s there to protect you. But, anyway, I was sitting here talking to you—talking to him—when I had an idea. I asked him if he knew Superman.”

Shoving my chair back, I stood up fast. “What the hell are you talking about? I’m not five anymore. I don’t play games like that.”

She went on as if I hadn’t interrupted her, a determined set to her jaw and worry in her eyes. “He said he did, but that Superman didn’t like to leave anymore. He just stayed in and played.” She paused. “Tony’s a little bit scary, but he seemed okay with me being here. He’s a boxer and spends a lot of time at the gym. He also loves nothing more than watching Mash reruns.” She grinned, even though her voice was thick with tears. “Where do you think you get all those muscles from?”

No. This was a bunch of bullshit. Why the fuck was she telling me this shit? I started pacing around my small kitchen. “If that’s true, why don’t I ever find gym clothes lying around?”

“I don’t know. I guess you—he—changes at the gym before you come home.”

“Stop saying that, Willow. He’s not a real person.” But there was something…something inside…that felt seen. It was all starting to click. I stopped on the other side of the table and gripped the back of a chair. I felt ridiculous even asking this question. “Does Tony like to drink, by chance?”

She gave a little shake of her head. “I don’t know.”

Pushing away from the table, I turned my back to her, trying to process the fuck ton of emotions whipping around inside of me. But the biggest one—the biggest one—made me stop, close my eyes, and drop my head back on my neck. Because it was fucking relief. “So, I’m like my own version of Jekyll and Hyde.” I laughed out loud. It was an ugly sound. “What the fuck, Willow?” I whispered as the tears returned.

Her arms wrapped around me from behind. “I’m so sorry, Tyler. I should’ve told you. I should’ve made you go to a doctor years ago. But I was scared they would lock you up somewhere. And honestly, Tony wasn’t that bad. Once he decided to like me, we hung out once or twice. I haven’t seen him in a while, but you’ve been kind of unavailable lately.”

“He’s been around,” I muttered. I held her arms tight around me. “So, what? I have multiple personalities or something?”

“I think…maybe.”

“Fuck.” The word was no more than a whisper. What the hell was I supposed to do with this? “Superman and Tony. You’d think I’d pick cooler names.” I’d meant it as a joke, but I couldn’t bring myself to laugh.

“And Miko,” she mumbled into my back. “He’s kind of fun. We went grocery shopping once.” She held on tighter. “Ailee met him, too.”

This time I did laugh. I laughed until tears ran down my face and I wouldn’t have been able to stay standing if it weren’t for my sister holding me up. I laughed until I cried. Until sobs tore from my chest and we both ended up in some kind of twisted puddle on the floor. Willow refused to let me go even then.

“Tyler, it’s okay. It will be okay. I’m so sorry. I should have told you, but I thought they would go away like Superman did. I thought if I just watched out for you, it would all go away. You would be okay.”

I could barely understand her. She was crying nearly as hard as I was.

We stayed like that—my sister and I—on the floor in my kitchen, for a long, long time. When we could, we got up, got a notebook, and began to write it all down so I could take it to my therapist. Willow wanted to call our parents, but I didn’t want to tell them anything just yet.

Two weeks later, I called Ailee and told her I was back in town.

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