Page 32 of Hawk's Cry

I’m berating myself as I arrive home to find the house empty. It’s only been five months since I stood in front of Lady and said my vows. Am I really thinking I could ever break them? Of course I’m not, it’s just that I’m so starved for affection that Gabe is having an effect on me. It’s my husband I want and need, but what can I do when he’s not there for me?

I sit, with my head in my hands, wondering what’s happened to me. What’s happened to Eli? To us?

I never thought anything could come between us. Never dreamed I’d be sitting alone in a strange house wondering where my husband is or whether he’s being unfaithful. The worst of it is, I don’t know what happened to bring us to this. Is it partly my fault? Or all down to him? Are our stars not as aligned as we’d thought? On the compound we always had family around. Had that hidden that we were drifting apart? Are the cracks showing now it’s just us?

The jangling tone of my phone startles me. I feel dizzy as I go from prone to standing too fast, but it doesn’t stop me automatically reaching for my purse. It’s Eli.

“Hi. Where are you?” Are you coming home?

But instead of Eli, I hear a stranger’s voice.

“Um, are you related to Eli Felis?”

Shit. This can’t be good. A stranger ringing from Eli’s phone.

“I’m his wife,” I say fast. “Has he had an accident?”

“No, er…” The voice sounds hesitant. “He’s having an episode or something. I don’t know whether I should call an ambulance or not. They can get expensive, so I wanted to check with you.”

“What do you mean, an episode?” My voice is shrill. “Why would he need an ambulance?”

“He’s collapsed, in the gutter. He’s not unconscious, but he’s crying and rocking, and I can’t get him to stop.”

“Where are you? I’m coming.” Jeez. What could this be?

He gives me the directions, he’s outside, where? A sex shop? Then, wasting no time, I slip back into my shoes, then place another call as I run to my car.

“Drummer.”

“Drummer, I need, Eli needs help. I don’t know what to do.”

I might not have spoken to him for months, but he doesn’t waste time on small talk. “Olivia, take a deep breath. I’m heading for my bike now. Where are you, are you at home?”

“No. Eli’s collapsed,” I gasp out as I start the engine. “He, the man who called, he described it as an episode, I don’t have a clue what that is.” I rattle off where he is.

“You go to him, Ollie. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Shall I bring him home?”

“If he’s not hurt and you can get him moving, yeah. Just let me know what you’re doing, okay?”

My destination is on the opposite side of Tucson. As I near the address I’ve been told, I drive past a Harley store. Could Eli have gone there, or got distracted on his way?

It’s easy to see where I need to be headed. A bike I recognise as his is backed up against the kerb, but it’s the people standing around that show me where he is.

“Let me through, I’m his wife,” I demand.

My height puts me at a disadvantage, but the desperation in my voice gets their attention, and soon I see Eli lying on the pavement as though he’d been knocked down. But he’s, as the man had told me, conscious, and has his head in his hands. He’s not simply crying, he’s wailing, his body moving to-and-fro.

“Eli?” I approach, letting him know I’m here.

“We’ve tried talking to him. It didn’t work. Here, take this.” A man, presumably the one who called me, hands me Eli’s phone. “Is he on something?”

I turn and snap at him. “My husband doesn’t do drugs.”

“Well he might have today, honey. This shit ain’t normal,” someone points out.

Crouching down by his side, I soften my voice. “Come on, babe. Let’s get home.”

---