Obsessor(s)(s)


by Blake Butler

When Thomas pushes through the front door to the apartment, the lights in the living room are on. Neither Thomas nor Theresa moves. "Thomas, this isn't funny," she says.

"The lights, Thomas." The flesh of Thomas's temples tautens. "Theresa," he says. "Theresa," he says. "Theresa." Thomas, of course, blamed himself. Theresa's car's engine is cold. While waiting, Thomas finds Theresa's purse on the kitchen counter. "My name is Thomas."

Thomas begins to lose his breath.

There's a long pause. Thomas groans, punches the air.

Thomas's Adam's apple swells. Thomas listens to it again. Thomas goes home. This time he's sure it is Theresa. Thomas uses his cell phone to call the apartment a couple times, each to no answer. Thomas puts his hand out.

Thomas says. "Theresa? Theresa, you there?"

"Who's calling?"

"I was calling for Theresa. Is this Thomas?" Thomas stops him. "Words."

Thomas's body feels scratched up, plastic. This tiny difference makes Thomas's skin prickle. Thomas looks around the room. Thomas opens the door to find Theresa in the breezeway. "Where the hell, Theresa?" "What the fuck, Thomas? Where?"

Theresa's nuzzling stops abruptly. Theresa shakes her head. There's time to understand it all.

Thomas sits his plate down.

Thomas ignores the question. Thomas studies her.

Suddenly the room seems smaller. The next time Thomas opens his eyes Theresa's standing over him in the kitchen doorway. Theresa's eyes stay on the plate.

Theresa shrugs. "You've changed, Thomas," she says, unblinking. Theresa doesn't break, though. Theresa turns to glare at him.

Theresa begins to scream. The door. The door. Thomas asks, again, again. Thomas sets the phone down. Thomas can't understand the words. Thomas stands holding the phone against his face. The room is a room again, and Thomas is still talking into the phone.

Thomas interrupts.

"Right." Thomas feels his entire body clench. "Thomas," she says. Thomas sits up. Theresa stops, touches his face.

By the time Thomas has finished speaking, his arms are shaking. Thomas inhales. "Never?" Thomas waits through the man's long pause.

Thomas is no longer aware of his arm. Thomas turns so the phone cord wraps around him.

The man watches Thomas watch him. Thomas's voice shakes inside him. Thomas aims the bar at the man's head.

Thomas feels his muscles screech. "Thomas," Thomas says.

Thomas asks.

Thomas blinks.

Thomas asks. Thomas's mind begins to tickle. Thomas returns to his car.

When Thomas pushes through the front door to the apartment, the lights in the living room are on. Thomas's arm hairs stand on end. "Not now, Thomas." Thomas feels heat coming off his eyes.

Theresa doesn't move.

Thomas laughs into her face. "Thomas," Thomas says.

The duplicate apartment. Baby. His baby. The room of their room will be the room they live in forever. The lights.