After that, the two of them left. Neither one of them felt like going back into the McCarthy house.
The weeks passed slowly.
Dr. McCarthy’s promise for a cure, or at least a partial remedy, was nowhere in sight, much to the disappointment and further aggravation of Danni. Peter started to lose himself.
Things started to get exponentially worse. Sometimes he would say directly what he was thinking, and not even realize what he was doing. He stopped going to school altogether. While he still had a conscious mind, he was able to convince his parents that there was something up with him and that he’d have to push everything back a year. They were, of course, distraught, but they understood that even if they didn’t know exactly what was wrong with their son, they understood partially what the problem was.
Danni seemed to get angrier during those weeks. Peter often found her in the woods, throwing trees or high boulders into one another.
Jolie was a couple months pregnant at the time, but that didn’t stop her NaU from acting up. She had seizures, terrible seizures that resulted in foam coming out of her mouth. Matt seemed to look sick, and the strength that had gone into his legs seems to slowly be disappearing. Now when he was not in public, he levitated only and stayed away from letting his legs touch the ground.
Nigel was seen going around and talking to people. Peter’s parents wouldn’t give the man the time of day, though, so the door was shut on him on that front. He supposedly was able to talk to the Torres and to Danni’s parents, though neither one of them were fruitful conversations. If they were, then Peter was sure the police would have swarmed the McCarthy house or called the feds, or something else.
Peter and Danni were on the way to the McCarthy house when Danni pulled over.
They had been talking about something, though Peter couldn’t remember what exactly it was. He forgot things so easily these days, saying things he might not have meant, or might have meant a long time ago. Sometimes he made inappropriate remarks and didn’t know what he had said.
Based on how Danni was reacting, Peter chalked that up to him saying something bad.
But what could he have said? Could he have said something about how he hated Greenwich and the people in it, and how he was looking forward to the day when he didn’t have to drive past cow manure-laden cornfields, past dirty houses with even dirtier people inside? Danni was the exception, of course, but only a partial one.
But when he had more mental functions, Peter chalked his love of Danni up to be the same sort of feeling he had whenever he initially hurt himself, or whenever he put a cigarette in his lips. It felt good to be with people and things that were lesser than him. Danni was nice, but the girl had no real place anywhere else but Greenwich, back here with all of the hicks she belonged with.
Maybe it had been that.
Danni’s car was pulled off to the side of the road. All of the trees around them were bare, and it was snowing slightly. Danni turned the car off and stalked into the cornfield.
The Cainabel farm was a good farm, at least by Greenwich standards. Their primary export was goats, meaning that they had no competition with the Hendersons nor the Larkeys in the poultry or pork division. They did have a cornfield though, a small one, only about one or two plots of land, with a third not used, laid fallow so that the interest could keep the soil healthy and fruitful.
The two men were old now, probably on their last rung of the ladder of success, and they would probably sell the farm in a year or so and move down south.
Neither one of them were up that night though, most likely asleep together in their bed up in their dark house. If one of them had been up, it wasn’t like either one of them could have stopped what was going to happen. Things had moved too far into motion for that, and any residences to the current course would be plowed over as a snowplow could plow down a snowman.
Peter opened the car door.
The air was cold. The hair stood up on the back of his neck. Something told him to stay, but he couldn’t tell if that was coming from the good part of his brain or the bad part, and besides, it wasn’t like Danni was going to hurt him. Danni would never hurt him. The two of them were close friends. Very close friends indeed.
Even if the hick was stupid.
Peter found Danni in the middle of the fallow field.
His girlfriend was looking up at the cloudy sky. Red lines and heat radiated from her.
“Danni,” Peter said, “What are we doing out here?”
Danni’s head fell, and she turned slightly.
Was that panic on her face, or remorse.
“I know your mind isn’t right, right now,” she said, “but I needed a moment.”
“But what did I—”
“It doesn’t matter what you said,” she said. “You didn’t mean it. It’s because of how your mind is right now, that’s it. I’m sorry for startling you. I needed some air.”
Of course, you would, Peter thought, you hike and always talk about your fresh air, your love of the outdoors, killing animals just for sport. You’re all so baseless and immoral.
Danni frowned.
“What,” Peter said.
“You didn’t mean any of that,” Danni said. “You’re sick. You didn’t mean all of that. You’re not speaking right now. It’s 'cause you’re sick, and you’re saying
