I Don’t Know You Anymore

By Kaz Falcon

 

From Savage Garden’s “I Don’t Know You Anymore”, (D.Hayes/D.Jones)

 

I would like to visit you for a while

Get away and out of this city

Maybe I shouldn’t have called but someone had to be the first to break

We can go sit on your back porch

Relax

Talk about anything

It don’t matter

I’ll be courageous if you can pretend that you’ve forgiven me 

Because I don’t know you anymore

I don’t recognise this place

The picture frames have changed and so has your name

We don’t talk much anymore

We keep running from the pain

But what I wouldn’t give to see your face again 

 

-- 

A thundering roar of the midnight storm rumbled through the pelting rain, ceaselessly pouring numbing water onto the suburban streets. The sea of houses spanned the quiet expanse of a small town in Illinois. Within the heart of each one, the warm glow of liquid golden light poured through uniformly rectangular windows with a variety of curtains.

Sheltered from the anger of the storm and the biting chill of the clamouring winds, a lone figure stood by the window of her cosy abode. Toying with the hem of the Mediterranean blue fabric of the curtains, she gazed at the turbulent sky, riddled haphazardly with smoky clouds.

A brilliant flash lit up the navy heavens for a dazzling second. White intermingled with stark blue as a jagged fork of pure energy stabbed swiftly at the soaking ground many miles away. Like a fuming reply to this attack, the thunder rumbled through the deserted streets several tense moments later. The young woman turned away from the ravaging weather outside and towards the warmth of her sitting room.

Her television was on, the volume turned down. A late night programme dramatised a traumatic scenario tiresomely, dismissed silently by the woman. She found a seat on the amiable fabric of her sofa, bringing with her a steaming mug of hot chocolate. In one, effortless movement, the television was shut off by the remote, bringing further tranquillity to the peaceful room.

A tortoiseshell cat leapt gracefully up onto the sofa, trotting in a routine circle before huddling into a snug ball of fur on its owner’s lap. The woman sighed contentedly, stroking the feline’s uniquely patterned fur, relishing the quiet mood. Her pet began to purr as it dozed off, savouring instead the petting it received on its coat of a thousand tones and hues of black and browns, spattered with patched of white.

The serene atmosphere was shattered as three brash knocks hit the door of the cosy house. The cat awoke with a start, leaping swiftly down from her owner’s lap and away into the kitchen. The young woman stood irritably, marching to the door, flipping the light on the way. Aggravated, she pulled the handle and swung it open unhappily.

The person standing on her doorstep had at that moment turned to glance over his broad shoulder at the trident of lightning, thundering in the distance of the night sky. Feeling the sudden warmth on the near side of his face, he turned back sharply. The woman gasped. The man was tall, over 6 feet, and sported a well-kept moustache and goatee. He had distinct features, the most outstanding of which were his firm jawline and intent, emerald eyes. Both of his soaked hands held a limp newspaper over his long, dark hair, now matted against his head, in a vain attempt to resist the deluge from above.

Recognition was instant.

“Kevin?” 

“If you want to slam the door in my face, you’re perfectly entitled to,” the man blurted out nervously.

“N…no,” the woman stuttered, shaking herself, “come in.”

He sighed gratefully and entered as the familiar woman stepped aside, letting him inside. Curious, he gazed at the walls, the carpet, the lampshades, the curtains… every small detail of the house, as he soothingly soaked in the welcoming heat of the indoors. Kevin sniffed numbly as he brushed away a defiant droplet of rain clinging to the tip of his nose with the back of his hand. He felt alien in this place, unwelcome. The tense mood became suddenly suffocating as his female host regarded him with awe and disbelief. Feeling his mouth dry up under her scrutiny, he swallowed visibly. Staring back in the strange moment of silence, he observed a similar reaction as himself, watching her face fluctuate between expressions of fear and curiosity.

“Here,” she shattered the spell of silence over them, “let me take that.”

She tugged at the sleeve of his leather jacket, glistening with fresh rain from the dark storm. He smiled nervously, withdrawing his arms from the leather of the sleeves, pulling the dripping garment off his shoulders. The woman carried it to another room. Kevin peered after her, through the simple doorway. However, the angle at which his vision could explore the room was poor, allowing only a glimpse of the room beyond. He could, despite this, discern the spring yellow paint of the walls, patterned with simple silhouettes of flowers in bloom, painted a striking royal blue. The only content of the room he could spy was the tail end of a bench, on which the worktop displayed a blue and black chipped marble effect. This bright room, he guessed, was the kitchen. Left alone for a half a minute or so, the man shuddered and rubbed his now bare arms. He winced as water dripped from his drenched hair and onto his back. Soaking instantly into his thin shirt, it dampened his back, and he flinched at the cold sensation.

The woman returned with a single, blue cotton towel, handing it to him wordlessly. He half-smiled, still uncomfortable, taking it gratefully.

“Thanks.”

Throwing the towel over his face, he banished the unwanted moisture from his features and ruffled it over his long hair briefly for the same effect. The material of the towel was slightly worn and aged, proving a bit more course and scratchy than its appearance suggested. Yet, the drenched man cared little when the alternative was to stay wet and miserable, or even catching acute pneumonia. Plucking up courage, Kevin found his deep, mellow voice.

“You know,” he began, “I always wondered what it would be like to see you again.”

As he pulled the towel away from his now drier face, his head was knocked sharply aside. His eyes widened. He blinked, once, twice. His _expression fixed to one of wincing shock as a prickly sting crept across his cheek. As the sudden realisation sunk in that he just been slapped, he gulped, barely trusting his voice.

“Erm… now I know,” he responded wistfully. “Ow.”

“That’s for leaving!” the woman spat.

Kevin refused to meet her angry eyes. He felt cowed, ashamed. He winced at the gnawing memory. The towel was snatched from his hands and tossed aside to the floor. As her face morphed from aggressiveness to despair, she flung her arms around him, sobbing quietly into his chest. Bewildered, Kevin instinctively let his arms fall around her small frame, resting his chin on her head. He sighed, hampered with unwelcome feelings that sneaked in on him from the past. A tear traced down his stinging cheek.

“Anne…” 

Anne handed Kevin a cup of freshly-made coffee before joining him on the soft fabric sofa. Taking a sip of the refreshing drink, he closed his eyes contentedly as he savoured the sensation of hot liquid warming his throat. After brooding momentarily, he placed his cup aside. For him, the years had been too long. He looked up and caught an uneasy glance from Anne. She, too, set her coffee aside.

“How… how on earth did you find me?” she enquired.

Kevin cleared his throat, sensing a sudden dissipation in the tense atmosphere. Swiftly, he ran through the previous few days events, sorting out the confused, jumbled emotions he so recently felt. Once everything was sorted in his mind, he began with growing confidence.

“Well, I was in town for business, and I met Alex in a café in Chicago… you remember Alex, don’t you?”

A single, swift nod.

“Well,” he continued cautiously, “we were catching up on old times, and he told me you lived here now.”

Anne raised a suspicious eyebrow, reaching for her coffee once more. After taking a second, refreshing sip of the brown liquid, she intoned sceptically:

“And he gave you my address? Just like that?”

“No,” exclaimed immediately in his friend’s defence. “I know Alex can be a bit of a wild card, but he’s responsible.”

“Unlike some, huh?” she retorted, idly tapping her fingers on her mug as she shot a piercing gaze at her old ‘friend’.

Kevin tore his eye away, stabbed. Time had not dulled the agony, for either of them. Discomfort crept back into the mood, detaining Kevin in a barren silence. A quiet clunk signalled Anne’s cup being placed on the light, pine table. The sound reeled his gaze back.

“Well, go on,” she urged sternly. “How did you know where I was? You didn’t beg, did you?”

Kevin observed her discrete smirk at the apparent mental image of him on his knees, dramatically and emotionally pleading for the address in front of the bewildered, shade-donning Alex with the attention of the entire café trained on them. He momentarily contemplated her reaction to his honest answer.

“You could say that, yeah.”

Anne widened her eyes in surprise.

“On your knees?”

“No,” Kevin retorted with indignation. “We were at a table, and I had to do some lengthy convincing.”

A glimmer of guilt crossed Anne’s _expression, yet she stubbornly hid it. She masked the sudden emotion with curiosity, glancing back at him. When he did not continue himself, she requested he carried on once more.

“He finally gave me that address,” Kevin stated, pausing to drink his coffee. “I guess he’s still a sucker for romance, huh?”

“Sounds like Alex,” Anne smirked. “How’s he doing? Still wearing those sunglasses?”

“I think he’ll have to have them surgically removed when he wants to take them off,” Kevin remarked, smiling.

Both of them laughed heartily, the tension lost amid the humour. Kevin was forced to return his cup to the table for fear of spilling his drink as his sides shook. The two of them savoured the break in the mood of gloom previously engulfing them. Sighing in relief, Kevin launched into what news he had learned from their mutual friend, and of how Alex was getting on in life.

“Apparently, he’s been working in the entertainment business. He says his solo career is just taking off this year. He travels around a lot now: I suppose I was lucky to catch him in Chicago at all.”

“Solo career?” Anne echoed. “He’s a musician now?”

“Yeah.”

Silence reigned for a while as conversation trailed off uneasily. Anne picked up her cup, now empty, and stood. She motioned to Kevin’s cup casually.

“You finished with that?”

“Erm… no, not yet.”

Anne strolled out into the kitchen, raising her voice so it would carry to her guest.

“Enough about Alex; what have you been doing for the past 8 years?”

“After I…”

Kevin paused to sigh sadly

“… left Kentucky… I found a job working for a computer company in California. Unfortunately, after a couple of years, it just got boring and predictable with no real challenges. So I quit and got a job working for a record company. It was pretty new, so needed a lot of effort to get off the ground. Back then, I suppose I was still young and headstrong so didn’t worry about it failing and being laid off. It was a challenge to me then.”

“So it worked out then?” Anne’s distant voice shouted from the kitchen.

“Yeah, 6 years along the line and we’re still on our feet.”

“What company is it?” Anne quizzed loudly. “Jive Records?”

Kevin snorted, “Nah, they’ve been around longer. I work for Sunset Records. That’s actually why I’m here in Illinois – we’re promoting a new band that we signed on. They sound promising, but we-”

He was cut off as a curious feline pounced uninvited onto his lap, swaying unsteadily as he jumped in shock. It mewed in complaint, waiting for him to settle down. Finding a comfortable spot, it sat and curled up causally. It looked up at him with a scrutinising stare, regarding him as if he were stupid, as cats do.

“Is there something wrong, Kevin?”

“There’s a cat in here,” Kevin answered, his tone surprised.

“I know,” Anne’s amused voice became clearer, signalling her return. “This is Lucy.”

“She’s yours?”

“Yeah.”

“I thought you didn’t like pets.”

Anne smirked at her memory, sitting back down beside him and petting the furry creature affectionately.

“I’ve changed,” was her simple reply.

Kevin nodded, refusing to push for elaboration. Anne might have changed her opinions about animals, but he sensed she still became ratty about being given the third degree. In the eerie silence that followed, Kevin took another observational glance around the room, gazing at unfamiliar picture frames hanging on the walls. Most of them were of strangers he would never have met over the eight years he had spent apart from his female friend. Yet one seemed to draw his eyes more than the others did.

Within a simple, mahogany frame, the photograph was focused on two individuals. One was clearly Anne. The other was a man, dark-haired, blue-eyed and broadly built. He looked roughly the same age, maybe a little older, than Anne did. Unusually, while Anne wore casual fashions, this young man wore a militaristic uniform. A soldier, perhaps? However, was it a spark of jealousy and rage he felt as he made out that the two of them had their arm slung over the other’s shoulders? Very causally, for that matter.

“Anne, who’s that in the picture with you? Boyfriend?” Kevin quizzed suspiciously.

Anne took one glance at the framed photo, and grimaced comically.

“Him? That’s Michael,” she claimed. “My brother.”

Kevin couldn’t help but feel relief at those two words, but merely nodded. As the information sunk in, he frowned at her disapprovingly.

“We knew each other for three years, and you never even mentioned you had a brother?”

“I never had to,” she calmly defended. “He’s five years old than me, and he moved to the UK when he was 20 and joined the RAF soon after. I hear from him now and again, but he’s usually busy. But that was about four or five years before we met, so I didn’t think it would be important.”

“I guess not,” he admitted. “But its not like you couldn’t have trusted me.”

Kevin instantly tensed up, regretting his lack of thought. Anne’s face twisted in fury as she shot upright, and pointed accusingly at him, trembling in rage.

“Trusted you?” she spat. “Trusting you at all was my mistake!”

He barely felt the cat dart away from his lap in fear. He cowered away from her, hoping she wouldn’t resort to any physical violence. Anne put her hands on her hips, leering down at him through narrowed eyes.

“What’s wrong, Kevin?” she growled challengingly. “No stung pride? No come-back, just like 8 years ago, back in Kentucky?”

“Times change,” Kevin replied. “So do people.”

“So you’ve come crawling back to pretend like you’ve changed? How naïve do you think I am?”

“You said yourself that you’ve changed,” Kevin replied. “I’ve changed too. Don’t be a hypocrite.”

“Hypocrite?” she fumed. “For believing that some habits die hard in this cynical world?”

“How similar would you be after spending eight years alone?” Kevin retorted, finally pushed into angry response.

Anne sucked in her breath, swallowing her impending insult. She softened her gaze to curiosity, regarding him with doubt.

“Alone?” Anne echoed. “You mean you’ve never-”

“No,” Kevin cut her off, turning away in angry despair. “Not one.”

“Why not?” she questioned, her rage quickly draining to bewilderment and guilt as a sudden revelation crept into her mind. “Because of me?”

Kevin squeezed his eyes shut and sighed, steeling himself from the memories.

“After what happened, I just… needed to get away, to sort myself out. That’s why I left. It took a while to get my life stable. After about four months, I managed to pull myself together and get a decent job. But when I tried to contact you, everyone I knew in Kentucky said you’d left.”

“That’s why I never heard from you?” Anne breathed, astonished.

Kevin shook his head, swallowing nervously. Shakily, he continued.

“No-one would say where you’d gone or why. I guess they were bitter too. Shortly after that, I started my new career with the record company, and I resigned myself to just concentrate on my work. I couldn’t let anyone else suffer with the illusion of my trust, so I avoided getting involved as much as I could.”

Kevin fell silent, and hung his head, vainly trying to hide the few tears managing to escape his closed eyes. Anne frowned in guilt. Sitting back down, she gently placed her hand on his broad shoulder, whispering tenderly.

“Oh God, what have I done to you?”

“You? What have you done?” Kevin intoned. “I paid for the mistake I made!”

Kevin shifted to rest his tearstained face against Anne’s shoulder, weeping silently. Anne pulled him into a tight embrace, striving to comfort the broken man.

“You don’t deserve this, Kev.”

“You used to think so,” he countered painfully.

“Like you said, times change.”

“It doesn’t change the fact that she died because of me!”

Anne flinched, remorsefully realising how much her unbound rage at the long-past, agonising tragedy had affected Kevin. She remembered how he had been so defensive when she made her first, enraged accusations. Anne had believed he hadn’t cared, that he was looking for easy justification, and he had bellowed his reasons at her with equal anger until she tore the gold band off her finger and threw the ring into his face before storming away in tears. Yet, was he just as guilt-ridden and confused by the sudden event, just like she was back then?

“Even if you had prevented it that day, what was to stop her doing it the next day, or the next?” Anne reasoned softly.

“What difference does it make?” he sobbed, tortured. “You trusted me, and I betrayed you.”

Anne squeezed her eyes shut, the event echoing through her mind. She watched, as if viewing a window into the past, as she saw herself weave through the crowds of people at the darkened club towards Kevin and his band of friends at the bar. She could hear their conversation humming through her brain as if she were actually there.

“Kev, I need to go with Jenna down the block. Could you keep an eye on Kate for us? She doesn’t want to come with us.” her own voice questioned.

“Sure, if you want. Where is she?” Kevin replied casually.

“Over at that table.”

“OK, I’ll watch her for you.”

“Remember, she’s been really depressed. Don’t let her out of your sight, Kev.”

“I won’t. Anne, you can count on me!”

“OK, I’ll see you later.”

Of course, she remembered, she couldn’t count on him. He had irresponsibly had too much to drink, and constantly been distracted by his friends joking on. He drunkenly forgot his task, allowing her friend Kate to slip away unnoticed. Both of them heard in the morning – Kate’s roommate had returned home in the early hours of the morning, and found her sprawled on the bathroom floor, both of her wrists slit and pudding blood onto the stark white tiles. And Anne had, in shock and dismay, blamed Kevin… 

Minutes passed before Anne released her embrace. Kevin once again turned his face away, unwilling to face her. Anne squeezed his shoulder consolingly, questions burning in her mind.

“If this caused you so much pain, why did you come and visit me?”

“I’ve spent eight years running from the pain – I built a barrier in my mind to try and just forget. But when Alex told me you lived here…”

“…it broke.” Anne finished for him.

He nodded.

“I can’t run from it anymore. I had to see you again.” He exclaimed anxiously. “I tried to be strong, courageous… but it’s just too hard. I can’t cling to hope that you’ve forgiven me.”

“But Kev,” she whispered, running her hand soothingly through his dark hair, “I have forgiven you.”

“R…really?” he sniffed, looking up hopefully.

“Yes,” Anne smiled warmly. “Really.”

Chuckling in relief, Kevin caught her off guard will a tight hug, grateful tears liberated from his eyes.

“Why?” He quizzed freely. “Why be generous to a jerk like me?”

“Because I don’t know you anymore, Kevin.” She answered, whispering genially. “We’ve both matured and learned from the past. You don’t deserve to suffer for a lifetime.”

“You never used to be so merciful,” Kevin grinned. “Seems I don’t know you anymore either.” 

“This time, I’m staying in touch,” Kevin stated confidently, scribbling down his number and address onto notepaper and deftly tearing the page out. “Here, take this.”

Anne offered her own number in return. They shared a last amiable embrace, yet as they pulled away, Anne caught his lips with her own, closing her eyes. Kevin froze, tensing up. He pulled away, wide eyed. However, his shock faded to a soft, entranced smile.

“I missed you too,” he grinned.

Lowering his head, Kevin returned the kiss deeply, savouring the forgotten closeness. And within his heart, the raging conflict between guilt and reason finally settled to a peaceful resolve. Pulling reluctantly apart, he sighed lovingly.

“Thanks,” he breathed.

Kevin reached for the door handle, easing it open. He stepped out into the dark, where the storm had subsided, the last trickles of rain settling on the greenery of the well-kept garden. He turned back to his ex-fiancée, smiling.

“You know where to find me,” he stated, tugging his black, leather jacket onto his broad frame. “I’ll see you around.”

Anne stayed by the door, framed by the golden light of the hallway, watching the relieved man until he disappeared into the night…

 

 

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