Free Night Vision by Ellen Hart

promise.”
    â€œYou swear ?”
    â€œI swear, Diego.”
    â€œYou will answer your phone if I call?”
    â€œAbsolutely. If I can’t for some reason, leave a message and I’ll call you back. I mean it. I won’t disappear again. I love you more than I ever thought possible. If I’ve learned anything in the past month, it’s that.”
    Long sigh. “God, I shouldn’t say this, but it’s so good to hear your voice. Are you well? Are you eating? Have you been in Minnesota this whole time?”
    â€œI’ll tell you more tomorrow, okay?”
    â€œAh,” he groaned. “All right. I give you the time you need. Just stay in touch. Godspeed to you, mi amor. I will pray for you.”
    David felt tears burn his eyes. When he said good-bye, he choked on the word.
    Â 
    The smell of garlic and lemon, and the sound of waiters calling “Oompah!” assaulted David as he trudged through the first floor
carrying his duffel bag. Jane told him that the service elevator in the Linden Building was right next to the mailboxes in the rear hallway, behind Athena’s Garden. Earlier in the day, he’d spent a couple of uneventful hours sleeping in his car, but he was so sleep deprived that it hadn’t even made a dent in his exhaustion. He walked through the lobby like a zombie, weighed down by a seemingly bottomless sadness.
    Setting down the duffel, David read through the names on the register next to a phone. Tammi Bonifay was the name of the woman Joanna was subletting the loft from.
    â€œFour oh one,” he whispered, picking up the receiver and pressing the extension. Joanna would need to buzz him in. He wished he still had a few of those uppers left, but he’d used them all on the drive here. Joanna’s voice startled him when she finally answered.
    â€œYes?”
    â€œJoanna? It’s David.”
    â€œI’ll buzz. When you get off, walk straight to the end of the hallway. My door’s on the right.”
    â€œOkay.” It was an old building with a limited security system, but any security system was worth its weight in gold in a big city.
    Up on four, David picked up his gear and headed down the hall. He liked old, banged-up, drafty lofts. Diego had renovated four or five in downtown Atlanta in the last few years. Gentrification of the seedier sections of town would only serve to push the rougher element somewhere else. “Like the burbs,” muttered David, a wicked smile on his face. He may not have been an inner-city denizen in his youth, but he’d become one—and was damn proud of it. “But I digress,” he whispered, pounding on Joanna’s door.
    When the door swung back, Joanna was shouting, “Stop that racket!”
    â€œHi,” said David, forcing a smile.
    â€œYou look awful.”
    â€œYou don’t look so hot yourself.”
    He walked in, gave the place a quick look. “God,” he said, his mouth dropping open, “I’ve just walked into a country-western wet
dream.” He dropped his bag, turned around, and hugged his sister. He was surprised by how fiercely she hugged him back.
    â€œYou okay?” he asked.
    â€œNo,” she said. “Since you asked, I’m just this side of a nervous breakdown. How about you?”
    â€œA nervous breakdown sounds good. If nothing else, the decorating in this place should push us over the edge. I feel like breaking knicknacks with a hammer. How about you?”
    â€œBe serious.”
    â€œI am. When we’re done, we can get drunk and sit in the bathtub singing ‘Happy Trails to You.’”
    She gave him a long, disgusted look. “Did you call Diego?”
    â€œYes, Mother.”
    She cracked a smile. “God, but it’s good to see you.”
    â€œI thought you were mad at me.”
    â€œI was.”
    â€œAnd now you’re not?”
    â€œActually, I can’t remember exactly why I was