Mad Love by Suzanne Selfors
Psyche was shy but she allowed Cupid to walk with her that day. Many of the locals had tried to court her over the years, but they’d been old men or simple farm boys and she hadn’t cared for any of them. But here was a young, handsome man from a distant land, telling her stories about his travels, about places she’d only dreamed of. He filled her head with wonder.
“I courted her slowly,” Errol said, sipping some lemonade. “I wanted her desperately, but I wasn’t going to force her to love me, not the way the gods had taught me. I wanted it to be real.”
“I like the way you’re putting yourself into the story,” Realm told him. “I do that sometimes, too. It helps me imagine things better.”
Errol and I exchanged a knowing look.
To keep the gods from becoming suspicious, Cupid continued to do their bidding, but between tasks he’d rush back to Psyche. He brought gifts from distant lands and kept her family’s pantry filled with grain and fresh meat. He learned how to bake her favorite bread, learned how to dance her favorite dance, and how to recite her favorite poem. It was a long courtship and though tempted, he never shot her with an arrow.
While Errol spoke, I typed as quickly as I could. Realm pulled all the notes she could find about the courtship and clipped them together. “Courtship,” she wrote on a Post-it.
Then a young, handsome man from a neighboring village showed up and proclaimed his love for Psyche. “I was desperately jealous, so I shot him with a love-at-first-sight arrow while he was standing next to another man’s wife. It worked, but another man came, and then another. Word of Psychè’s beauty had spread since the wine festival and they started showing up from as far away as Crete. I shot them all.”
“Here’s a note about one guy who fell in love with his own reflection,” Realm said. “And another about a guy who fell in love with someone’s grandmother.” She clipped them together and wrote “Shooting the Competition” on a Post-it. “This story’s kind of sick,” she said. “I like it.”
An hour passed. Errol’s voice grew raspier. I got him some water.
The story went that at the end of the year’s courtship, Psyche had truly fallen in love and had agreed to marry Cupid. There was a small ceremony at her father’s farm, and then Cupid took her far away, to a remote island in the Aegean Sea. He stole a fortune from one of his lovesick victims and with that, he bought Psyche a beautiful palace at the sea’s edge and brought her everything she needed. They were deliciously happy.
In order to keep Psyche safe, Cupid had to set up some rules. First, Psyche could never be seen outside the palace. Venus, the goddess of love, had seemingly forgotten the little Wine Princess. But if Psyche started walking around in public, people would notice her beauty and word would spread. So she began to feel like a prisoner, far from her family, alone for long periods of time when Cupid would disappear to do his work. “As the sea changes its temperament, so too did our marriage change,” Errol said.
My fingers started to cramp. Realm put together two more sets of notes: “The Wedding” and “Life in the Palace.” She was turning out to be a great help.
“How did your marriage change?” I asked.
“She began to resent my love. No, wait, ‘resent’ is not the right word,” Errol said, getting up from the couch. He walked over to the living room window and looked out at Cal Anderson Park. Branches swayed in the wind and a few pieces of trash skipped down the path. “She started to hate me. A caged animal will always turn on its owner.”
“Hey, that’s my Death Cat story,” Realm said.
The marriage fell apart, he told us. Each time he’d return home, Psyche demanded freedom. Though he knew they’d both be in danger if anyone recognized her, he couldn’t bear her misery and he finally agreed that she could have some company. So her sisters came for a visit, but they filled her with more resentment. Who is this man to tell you what to do? To hide your beauty from the world? He wants it only for himself. While Cupid was away, they convinced Psyche to go to town without a head scarf. And when people noticed her beauty, the sisters proudly told the story of how she’d been crowned Wine Princess and how many had said she was more beautiful than Venus herself.
Two months later, Cupid arrived home after a long journey to find that Psyche had disappeared.
“Disappeared?” Realm asked.
“She’d gone looking for Cupid,” I said. “Mr. Lee told me the story. She thought Cupid had abandoned her so she went looking for him.”
“No,” Errol said, rubbing the back of his neck. “That’s the myth. That’s the spin the gods put on the story. She never went looking. They took her. They took her from me.” A strong gust of wind shook the panes. “They took her and they entombed her.”
“What?” I asked.
Realm sat up real straight. “Entombed? You mean, they buried her alive? Just for being beautiful?”
“Yes.” He kept staring out the window.
We sat in silence for a few moments. I shuddered as a horrid image filled my mind. Unaffected by what she thought was merely a plot twist, Realm sorted through the remaining notes. “I don’t see anything in here about a tomb.”
“It’s not there. I couldn’t bear to write it.”
Realm nodded. “Yeah, I get that. When I had to write the scene where Death Cat chews on her owner’s face, it kind of freaked me out for a few days.”
Beautiful Psyche had been buried alive. No wonder Errol carried so much grief. No wonder he couldn’t face the ending.
“Alice!” Mrs. Bobot called. She hurried into the living room. “Oh Alice, I … I …”
“What’s the matter?” I asked, scrambling to my feet.
“You have a phone call,” she said, her voice trembling. “They’ve been trying to call you but you didn’t answer.”
I’d set my phone to buzz, hoping for no distractions. It had gotten pushed beneath one of the couch pillows. Mrs. Bobot held out her phone, her face ghostly pale. I knew that Harmony Hospital was on the other end of that call. With all the chaos about the lost envelope, I’d forgotten to call my mother that morning. It was the first time I’d forgotten.
“Hello?” I said. The connection crackled. “Hello?”
“Alice? This is Dr. Merri, the weekend physician at Harmony Hospital. I know this question may sound strange but …” She cleared her throat. “Is your mother there?”
“Is my mother where?”
“There. At your home.”
“Here? Is my mother here?” Had I heard the question correctly? Mrs. Bobot’s hand flew to her mouth. “No, she’s not here,” I told Dr. Merri.
“We thought not,” Dr. Merri said. “There’s been limited ferry service today due to the storm and the ferry crew hadn’t seen her. But I needed to make certain she hadn’t gone home.”
“I don’t understand,” I said, the phone growing heavy in my hands. “Are you telling me that my mother’s missing?”
Mrs. Bobot grabbed the phone from my hands and pressed the speaker button. Dr. Merri’s voice filled the living room. “She walked out the emergency exit and we think she’s gone into the woods. We can’t find her. We’ve been looking for three hours.”
“Three hours?” Mrs. Bobot said with a gasp. “Did she take anything with her?”
“As far as we can tell she took nothing. Her purse, her coat, all her belongings are still in her room.”
Errol stepped up behind me and placed his hands on my shoulders.
“How could you let something like this happen?” Mrs. Bobot cried at the phone. “Is this what you do when a patient can’t pay the bill? You let her wander off?”
“Of course not,” Dr. Merri said. “We are as upset about this as you are. But the storm has made the search difficult. It’s hitting us pretty hard out here. We’ve had a couple of big lightning strikes and we’ve lost power. The police and the fire department are helping with the search. I’m sure they’ll—” The line went dead.
Mrs. Bobot hit redial but the connection fail
“Oh no you don’t,” Mrs. Bobot said as I snatched my backpack purse. “This is far too dangerous. I will not have you tramping about in the woods in the middle of a storm. You will stay here in case your mother shows up.” Then she ran into the foyer and clapped her hands. “William, Archibald, get your coats!”
“Stay here? I’m not staying here,” I said, running after her. “I’m going to help look for her.”
“What’s the fuss?” Archibald said after opening his door. He and the reverend stepped into the foyer.
“Belinda’s missing. They think she’s lost in the woods. She’s been gone for three hours.” Mrs. Bobot ran up the stairs, her braid swaying. “I’m getting my keys and some sensible shoes.”
“I’m going too,” I insisted.
A flash of lighting lit up the foyer. “You listen to me,” Mrs. Bobot said. “It is my job to take care of you. I am your legal guardian in your mother’s absence and I will not allow you to wander into the woods in the middle of lightning and thunder. You will stay here and keep yourself safe.”
“Wanda’s right,” Archibald said. “Your mother would want you to stay here. We all want to keep you safe.”
“But …”
Reverend Ruttles thumped his cane against the floor. “Do not argue with Wanda. You will stay here, young lady, where you are safe, and that is the final word.”
Archibald hugged me. “I’m sure she’s fine. Your mother knows how to take care of herself.” Then he hugged me again because we both knew it wasn’t true, at least not lately. “The pot roast is ready. I hate for it to go to waste. You and Realm and Errol should go in and eat something. We’ll call you as soon as we get there.”
And with that, Archibald, Reverend Ruttles, and Mrs. Bobot piled into Mrs. Bobot’s car and drove off down the darkened street.
I kicked the back door. “Stay here?” Helplessness tugged at my body, like being caught in a whirlpool. “I can’t just sit around and wait.”
Back in the apartment I tried calling the hospital. Nothing. “What about a cab?” I asked. “Realm, how much money do you have?”
“Not much, ten bucks, something like that.” She tugged at her sleeves. “A cab will cost a fortune. You could take a bus.”
“A bus will take forever.” I searched through my purse for the credit card, the one that was maxed out, but maybe a cab driver wouldn’t be able to tell.
“I think it’s ridiculous that they made you stay here,” Realm said. “How are they going to search the woods? The reverend can barely walk and my grandmother’s ancient. And Archibald will worry about getting his shoes dirty.”
I pulled out the credit card. I had to give it a try.
“I’ll stay here in case anyone calls or in case your mom shows up,” Realm said. She shuffled in place. There were hints of Lily in her softened expression. “And I won’t read anything I’m not supposed to read. I won’t. I wasn’t going to tell anyone about your mom. Really I wasn’t. I’m not that mean.”
“Thanks,” I said. “Realm, I—”
“Let’s not do the whole apology thing, okay? Just go find your mom.”
I called the cab company. “It’s my mother’s credit card,” I told the woman who answered. “What? But she said I could use it. No, she won’t be riding with me. But I don’t have my own credit card.” Beyond frustrated, I wanted to throw the phone across the room. “What am I supposed to do? I need to get to Whidbey Island and I only have the one credit card!” I yelled at the woman.
Still standing by the window, Errol had been quiet this whole time. But he suddenly called my name and motioned me over. A green Jeep was parallel parking across the street. When the driver’s door opened, Tony Lee stepped out, his hair whipping in the wind. I threw open the window.
“Tony!” I called.
He ran across the street and stood under my window. “What a crazy storm. Hey, you never gave me your phone number, so I came by to see if you wanted to hang out or something.” His face was back to normal, no blotches, no swelling. But my face was clenched with panic. “Alice, what’s wrong?”
“My mom’s in trouble. Can you drive me to Whidbey Island?”
“In trouble?”
I leaned out the window. “I need to get to her. Right now.”
“Yeah, okay, but I don’t know where Whidbey Island is.”
“I do.”
I grabbed a coat and started to leave but then turned and looked into Errol’s bloodshot eyes. “I know I said we’d work until we finished. But I have to go. I’m so sorry, Errol. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
He looked away.
“He can tell me the rest of the story,” Realm said. “I’ll write it down. I can do it.”
“You don’t need to do that, Realm. I’ll write it tomorrow.” I touched Errol’s arm. “There’s still time, right? You said you still had time.”
He frowned. “They’ve got firefighters and police looking for her, Alice. Don’t you think that’s enough?”
“Maybe.” I swung my purse onto my back. “But what if that’s not enough? What if something happens to her and I didn’t try to help? Don’t you get it? I’ve been trying to save my mother forever but I’ve never been able to. She just kept drifting farther and farther away from me. But what if this time I can help? I have to try.”
I expected anger from him. He’d been stalking me for a week, doing everything he could to get me to help him, and now I was abandoning him just when we were so close to finishing. But he said nothing.
“I gotta go.” I started to leave.
“Wait,” Errol said. “I’m coming with you.”
“You’re sick. You should stay here.”
“No.” He shook his head slowly. “I lost Psyche. I’m not going to lose you too.”
“Hey,” Tony said, his eyes widening as Errol slid into the backseat.
I didn’t expect Errol to apologize for the whole invisible arrow incident. I was kind of hoping he wouldn’t bring it up. But Errol didn’t say anything. He just folded his arms, then disappeared beneath his hood.
Once we reached the freeway, it wasn’t long before we passed Mrs. Bobot’s car. Even during a crisis she drove way below the speed limit. Archibald sat in the backseat, Reverend Ruttles up front. Mrs. Bobot gripped the steering wheel, her expression wild with worry. Fortunately they didn’t notice me as Tony’s Jeep zipped by. I was going to be grounded for an eternity.
“So maybe I should know what’s going on,” Tony said.
I took a couple of deep breaths, rehearsed my opening statement a few times, then decided to just go for it. “I’ve been lying to you,” I said. “About everything.”
A gust of wind pushed against the Jeep. Tony adjusted his glasses. “I’m listening.”
I pressed my palms against my thighs and stared straight ahead. “I don’t have a cat. I’ve never had a cat. I told you that because my bag smelled like clams and I was embarrassed. And I’m not going premed. I told you that because I’d been watching you from my window for two weeks and I wanted you to like me.” I released a long breath.
He tucked his hair behind his ear. “Two weeks?”
“Yeah.” I cringed. Perhaps that part of the confession hadn’t been necessary, but I didn’t want to pretend anymore. I was who I was, I felt what I felt, and I wanted him to know. Then, and only then, could we move forward. Maybe that meant dating, maybe it didn’t.
“There’s more,” I said as another gust of wind pushed the Jeep. “My mother’s not overseas. She’s at Harmony Hospital because she’s mentally ill. She’s been bipolar most of her life. Her publisher and her readers don’t know. I didn’t tell anyone when I was little because I was afraid that they’d take me away from her. And now t
“That sounds rough,” Tony said. “My dad’s got a friend who’s bipolar. He has to take a pill every day or he can’t get out of bed.”
“Mom didn’t have any pills. She didn’t take any medication, so she got worse and worse. Sometimes she’d be gone for days, sometimes she’d lock herself in her bedroom and forget about me. I didn’t know what was going on. I thought I’d done something wrong, you know? I was just a little kid. It was a total nightmare.”
For a moment I forgot that Errol was in the backseat. I only felt Tony’s presence—his warm brown eyes, his sad smile as he turned to look at me. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry you had to deal with all that.”
I went on. “Then I found her sitting on the bathroom floor.” The memories of that day projected onto the windshield like a home movie. The cold tile, the dripping bathroom faucet, her arms curled around her legs, her vacant eyes. “She wouldn’t move. She was really out of it. The doctor came and sent her away. That’s why I didn’t go back to school. I signed up for Internet classes because I needed to stay home and take care of things for her. I’ve been covering for her, paying the bills, answering her e-mails, writing her letters, all the stuff that needs to be done.” There. I’d told him. My shoulders relaxed.
“So what’s going on today? Why are we rushing to Whidbey Island?”
“That’s where the hospital is. It’s surrounded by forest, for miles and miles, and she’s wandered off. They can’t find her. I don’t know what kind of state she’s in. If she’s out there, in this storm, in some kind of daze …” I turned away and looked out the window.
The drone of the tires and wind felt endless. I fought the image that filled my mind—of my mother lying beneath a fallen tree, just like the lumber baron’s wife. Was the forest still angry enough to take another life?
Tony reached over and took my hand. “We’ll find her,” he said.
His understanding should have calmed me. But it pushed something, like the last molecule of air before the balloon bursts. Anger welled up and I couldn’t hold it back. “I’m so mad at her for doing this,” I said, clenching my hands. “This is so like her to think about no one but herself. To go off and make everyone worry. We always have to stop our own lives just because she …” My pulse pounded in my throat. I clenched my jaw. “God! I’m so sick of it.”