Maybe I was in the clear. Maybe their text to Theo was a dying gasp. Maybe someone deleted the video by accident, or the file was corrupted, or maybe they grew a heart overnight, deciding to delete it themselves.
These were all possibilities I rarely ever entertained, except for now. I allowed myself a little bit of hope.
With that hope, I went to get back to work. I still had time before Benji was done, but I’d have to be quick. I hurried into the living room and opened all the boxes, setting them down on the floor. I grabbed a bag out of the box closet to me, tearing it open with my teeth. I took out the puffy white clouds of cotton and started to place them around the room, bunching them together in clumps on the windowsill and near the fireplace.
I grabbed the next package, opening it and pulling out the folded-up white-and-black plastic. I found the blow pin and brought it to my mouth. Before I could even start on inflating it, my phone buzzed again. I checked to see if it was Benji or maybe Theo. He might have forgotten to tell me something.
It was neither of them. It came from a number I didn’t recognize.
I read the message, the blow pin still in my mouth, my eyes widening and my stomach somersaulting into my throat.
The message read:
“You have three days left. Send 500k to the account specified below and the video won’t leak. Don’t pay and ruin yours and your family’s life. Decide.”
The inflatable slipped from my mouth and floated down to the ground.
19
Benjamin Gold
Today felt like a good day. A really good one.
God, it’d been a while since I had so many of them in a row. Finally, there was a bright white light at the end of this musty old tunnel, and this one didn’t lead me to any kind of pearly gates. I could actually see a better life on the other end, not an afterlife.
There would still be work that needed to be done, that was clear. I was standing outside the medical center, flipping through a pamphlet the doctor had given me about the medication he had prescribed. He warned me we might have to try out a few different ones before finding the right one, and it might take a couple of weeks to even feel any effect, but if how I felt walking out of there was any indication, then things were on the right track.
Rex pulled up in my car, window down and waving like a parent picking up a kid from school.
I couldn’t help but laugh. I got into the passenger seat, the drive back to the sanctuary so short that it didn’t make sense to switch.
When he asked me, “So how was school today?” I started laughing even harder.
As he drove out of the lot, he put a gentle hand on my thigh. “Seriously, though, it looks like it went well?”
“Very well,” I said. “Obviously, nothing is cured yet, but he did diagnose me with depression and walked me through a few different options for medication. I feel good, Rex. I really do.”
“I see it in your eyes. There’s a light in there.”
“That could just be the RedBull I drank earlier.”
Rex laughed, although it sounded a little clipped. “I’m real fucking proud of you, Benj. I really am.”
“Thank you, but it’s something I should have done a long time ago.”
“That doesn’t matter. What matters is that you did it, and because of that, you can get your life back.”
I nodded, looking out at the passing trees. A pasture of spotted cows zoomed past. “You helped a lot. I kept feeling sparks of my old self around you. It was enough to remind me of what this depression was stealing from me.”
“Well, honestly, I feel like this was all you, and I can’t take any credit for it. But even if there was a tiny bit of credit there, it’s really the least I can do. You saved my life back when we were younger. When I felt so fucking angry with myself, with my weight. I let other people’s assumptions and judgment get through to me, and it wasn’t until you taught me how to accept myself that I truly did. And listen, I’m not saying I’m fully there. I am loving the idea of being a big bear, and it seems like you love it, too—” He gave me a look that had me blushing. “—but it’s hard. And so, even now, you’re helping me accept myself. Every day. You’ve been helping me, all this time.”
His hand squeezed my thigh, rubbed. Rex’s jaw flexed as he looked straight ahead. Was he fighting back tears?
I put my hand on his. My fingers slipped through his, and he held on tight.
“Anyways,” Rex said, pulling him together with a deep breath. “I’ve got a surprise for you. Back at the guesthouse.”
“Oh really?” I perked up. “Interesting. Very, very interesting… What is it?”
“Nice try,” he said, chuckling. But again, his laugh cut short. His forehead wrinkled and his eyes seemed to look somewhere further off than just the empty road ahead.
“Rex, everything’s okay, right?” I had to just ask. After coming out of an hour chat with a doctor asking question after question, this one came out pretty easily.
“Yeah, yeah, everything’s good.” The way his tone inflected made me think everything might have been an exaggeration.
“You sure?” I asked, prodding a little deeper.
He rolled his neck, and I heard a few loud pops. “Yeah, I’m sure. I’ve just been focused on pulling this surprise off, that’s all.”
Steering things back to the surprise. I smiled, feeling the excitement from Rex rising, but I couldn’t box away the nagging doubt that nipped at my heels. Something was up with him, although it was clear I wouldn’t be figuring it out on this car ride, seeing as we were already pulling up to the security gate at the front of the sanctuary.
“Curtis!” I said, cheerily waving over Rex.
Curtis returned with an equally as cheery “Hey there, fellas!”
He pressed the button in his booth, and the heavy iron gates in front of us rolled open. I’d gotten used to this already, but it did take me a few days to accept that this was our reality now. When I was growing up, the sanctuary only had fences for the enclosures. We never had to worry about keeping people out, only about keeping animals in.
Not anymore. Not since the Dove flew into our lives, threatening to shut us down if we didn’t do it ourselves. These days, there wasn’t merely a physical fence around the entire property, but a digital one, too. Alarms would trip if anyone climbed any section of the wall and we’d all be immediately alerted.
Again, I had a difficult time accepting it was our reality, but the sense of safety was very much welcome.
Rex pulled into the parking spot, next to my mom’s van. I hopped out and started down the brick path that wrapped around the house, toward the backyard. Rex caught up to me, putting a hand on my lower back for a split second before taking it off.
Damn, did I wish he had left it. I wanted to walk hand in hand with him.
Was I falling too hard? Too fast?
Yeah—six years too fast.
I set aside the needless worries and instead braced myself for whatever surprise waited for me on the other side of the bold blue door. Rex put a hand on the knob, his smile making his eyes crinkle.
“All right, you ready?”
“Yes, ready.”
He cracked the door open but froze. “Wait, wait,” Rex said. “Cover your eyes. And don’t peek.”