Read Online Orphans of Wonderland by Greg F. Gifune - Free Book Online

dig it up again? What do you possibly hope to accomplish after all this time?”
    â€œThat’s the problem, isn’t it? It’s not dead, and it’s not buried as deep as I thought it was.” He took her chin in his hand and raised it up until she was looking at him again. “Those old ghosts are still rattling their chains, Taylor, and they’re never going to let me go unless and until I cut them loose myself. I know that now. And I’m afraid, okay? I am, I admit it. I can’t go through what I did before, not again. I won’t survive it. But I can’t let fear stop me either. Not this time. Not ever again.”
    She licked her lips. “What do you want me to say?”
    â€œThat you believe me. That you believe in me.”
    Taylor’s eyes sparkled in the moonlight. “Always.”
    â€œI love you. More than you’ll ever know, I love you.”
    â€œGo do what you have to do.” She took his hand in hers, held it against the side of her face and kissed it. “Then come back to me.”
    Joel closed his eyes, snuggled closer to his wife and listened to the wind just outside the windows, distracting him, if only for a while, from the horrible whispers creeping through in his head.

Chapter Seven
    Joel stood in his room before the partially pulled curtain, watching occasional cars rush along the nearby highway. Though only five foot ten, at first glance, his wiry build made him appear taller than he actually was. Trim and in reasonably good shape, his body resembled that of a swimmer, though he rarely swam, his build understated in clothes but a bit less subtle in his present state: a pair of boxers. His was the kind of unremarkable look and manner that often made it easy to blend into a crowd or go unnoticed, something that had served him well back when such things could be relevant in his line of work.
    The room was dark, the parking lot and areas surrounding the roadside motel dimly lit. Every now and then headlights from passing cars reminded him he was not alone in the night, but it was late, too late to be up. Undeterred, the thoughts storming through his head had prevented him from sleeping, and there seemed little point in going back to bed, at least not yet. They’d begun so nicely, with visions of him and Taylor making love or walking hand in hand along some of their favorite wooded paths not far from the house. But they soon morphed into memories of Taylor waving goodbye, standing in the doorway of their home as Joel backed out of the driveway. She looked beautiful as ever, but even that did little to mask her sadness, which left him riddled with nearly unbearable guilt.
    Joel glanced at his watch. Nearly two o’clock. He’d called home earlier and they’d said good night, but by now Taylor was long asleep, snuggled up in bed, the TV next to the bed probably still on, flashing ghost lights across the otherwise dark walls while some self-proclaimed entrepreneur extraordinaire prattled on about the virtues of his real estate seminar and how it was guaranteed to make attendees wealthy beyond their wildest dreams.
    Wishing he were there with her, Joel moved from the window to a nearby table. Taylor faded from his mind, lost in misty shadows and darkness. On the table he found his iPod and a pair of in-ear headphones. He pushed one bud into his right ear but left the other dangling, as was his habit when alone, and, using the lighted face of the iPod to guide him, located Kind of Blue on his playlist , his favorite Miles Davis album. He selected the cut All Blues , then sank down into one of the chairs.
    Joel sat back in the dark, put his feet up and let the sultry sounds entangle him like creeping vines of smoke. And as his head slowly bobbed with the beat, he closed his eyes and drifted back to his memories of earlier in the day, and the events that had landed him in this lonely little motel so far from home…
    It was a dreary,