I hope this lasts, she thought. I like this feeling.
Tomorrow was Thursday, she remembered. Good. The end of her work week and the day that she got to see Cole. Life was good.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Cole needed a nap. He and Nancy had decided on the park instead of a coffee shop today-she was off early for some reason. They’d gotten popcorn and coffee and were settled down on a large bench. His back was hurting really badly right now. Sean had thrown him into the wall last night for talking back and now he was having trouble sitting up.
“Nance? Would you mind if I lay down?”
“Of course not. Are you feeling okay?”
“M’okay. Just kind of drained. You know how it is.”
She nodded sympathetically and moved over so he had room. It was raining hard today and he pressed up against the back of the bench.
“Cole? Are you sure you’re not sick?”
“I’m fine. You know, for me.”
She threw a few pieces of popcorn at the birds. Cole sighed and looked out at the trees. He would have been happy to stay here forever.
“Nance?”
“What?”
“Are you okay? You look really tired.”
“I do?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m fine. Really.”
A bird flew up inches from his face and he jumped. He lay back down again, feeling very stupid.
“It’s just a bird.”
“Wasn’t expecting it. Sorry.”
She smiled and shook her head.
“Are you sure you’re feeling okay…what did you do?”
“What?”
She pointed at his collarbone. At first he couldn’t figure out what she meant, but then he remembered. For once, it really had been an accident. A coffee mug had fallen out of the cupboard and hit his collarbone. He guessed it had bruised.
“A cup fell on me. I probably stacked it wrong or something.”
He lay back down on the bench, looking at the children playing in the puddles.
“Cole? Who’s that?”
“Who’s who?”
“Over there. See that man? He’s looking at you.”
Cole looked up, wondering who she was talking about, and froze.
Sean was standing twenty feet away.
“Want to go inside? It’s really cold out here.”
“Cole?”
“Please?”
“Um, yeah, I guess. Who is that?”
“No idea.” he said. His voice was shaking and he hoped Nancy didn’t pick up on it. She did.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Not feeling too well.”
“Are you sick again?”
“Maybe. I get sick a lot. Let’s just go inside, okay? It’s freezing out here.”
“Cole…”
“Please?”
Please, please don’t let her go over there and find out…
“Sure. Maybe you should go home.”
“I’m okay. Just feeling a little sick, that’s all.”
She raised her eyebrows but said simply, “Okay.”
“Thanks, Nance.”
“It’s nothing. If you need to go home…”
Home was the last place he wanted to be. He thought he would be sick.
No! No puking! Then I have to go home because she’ll think it’s the flu and I’m not supposed to pass it on…oh, Jesus Christ.
“M’fine. Really. Just cold, that’s all.”
His mouth was dry and he wanted to turn around and see if Sean was still watching them. But then Sean might come over and that would be bad.
He was in a heavy, frightened daze for the rest of the afternoon and Nancy finally threatened to drag him into her car and drive him home if he didn’t go on his own.
“Cole, it’s best if you just go home and get in bed. You can either go on your own or I’ll drag you there.”
“I don’t think you can.”
“I may be short, but I can take you!” she insisted, putting her hands on her hips. “Just try me!”
“All right, all right, I’m going. I’ll see you…Monday, I think, is my next one.”
“Good. Be careful. Stack the cups right next time, okay?”
“Okay. See you soon.”
I hope.
“Bye, Cole.”
* * * *
Cole had an hour to himself before Sean’s car pulled into the driveway. He did not go downstairs to greet him.
“Cole! Cole, get down here now!”
He swallowed, moistened his lips, and went downstairs. He was screwed now.
“Who is she?”
“She?”
“Don’t even try to play dumb, boy. Who is she?”
Just leave her name out of it.
“M-my girlfriend.”
“Where did you meet her?”
There was no point in lying.
“There’s a rehab clinic I’ve been going to. I met her there.”
“I wondered what that little building was. I thought it was a whorehouse.”
Cole shook his head.
“No.”
“Well, Cole, it’s nice that you’ve told me the truth. But you’ve still broken the rules. You’ve been out. And from the looks of things, you’ve been out for a while now.”
For a minute, Cole wondered if Sean would hobble him or something.
No, no, he’s not that crazy. Besides, that was just a story.
Sean set his briefcase down and stepped over to Cole. Cole swallowed and closed his eyes. Hopefully all he would get was a bruised rib, at the most. Sean had been going a little easier on him lately because he was sick.
“Cole, I’m happy that you told me the truth. But you still broke the rules, and I’m gonna have to take you up for that.”
“Dad, I’m sorry.”
“I know. It’s for your own good, you know that. It hurts me more than it does you.”
You sick fuck, what do you know about hurting?
But he didn’t say anything, didn’t open his eyes. He didn’t need to. The sound of Sean’s fist whistling through the air was enough.
* * * *
Nancy was scared for Cole. If she’d had his phone number she would have called him. He’d looked terrified when she pointed out that man, and all those bruises…
He lives with his dad. Surely his dad isn’t…
No, that was silly. She’d known someone who was abused and they’d been in much worse shape than Cole was.
But what if…he’s a junkie, of course he’s gonna wear long sleeves. Surely he’s not trying to hide bruises, too…God, what if he tried it as an escape and got hooked?
She’d see him Monday and ask him straight up. He’d told her before he would tell her anything she asked. She was probably just overly paranoid,
searching for a reason to explain his addiction
there was no reason to worry. He’d tell her she was being silly and that would be the end of it.
She put the thought out of her mind and thought about work. It was going well-she liked working at the dentist’s-and Dr. Grey had barely spoken to her for weeks.
Maybe I’m better now. Maybe I’m doing something right and he’s not going to hurt me again.
The idea made her smile.
Life is good now. I’ll just keep doing what I’m doing and it will stay good. I won’t talk to Dr. Grey more than I have to and he won’t hurt me again.
She hoped.
Chapter Forty
It was Sunday night. Cole was sitting in the bathroom with the door locked and a razor in his hand. He’d taken one last fix, stuck a letter to Nancy in the mailbox and written a quick note for Sean. He didn’t have any other choice. Sean had announced that he was taking a few weeks off of work to ‘keep an eye’ on Cole, starting Tuesday. There was no way he’d be able to get out of the house, and who knew if he’d survive those few weeks of vacation? The beating he’d gotten Thursday ha
d left him unconscious for most of Friday and even now he was bruised beyond belief. It was a miracle nothing was broken, but he suspected he had bruised ribs. There was no other choice but to get out now, while he still had the chance and a new razor blade. He just hoped Nancy wouldn’t be too upset.
“Nance, m’sorry.” he mumbled to nothing in particular. He was on the wakeful part of the high now, but he was starting to get a little groggy. Better get this over with before Sean told him to get out of the bathroom already. Or worse, found the note before he finished here.
He pulled his shirt off, picked up the blade and positioned it against his wrist. His hands were shaking and he willed them to be still.
He looked once more at his reflection-
sick and pale and I don’t deserve to be here anymore
-and pressed down on the blade. There was a sharp slice of pain but he ignored it. He was used to pain.
He started dragging the blade down, but his hands were shaking too much-or maybe he was getting too deep into the tired part of his high-and the blade swerved from the main vein.
I really can’t do anything right. I can’t even kill myself right.
He couldn’t grasp the damn razor again. He’d failed this time.
Oh god, what if dad comes up and sees the note in my room or sees me here?
He grabbed his shirt and pressed it to the bleeding gash on his wrist. The pressure made it hurt even more than it was already and he clenched his teeth to keep quiet. He needed to get to his room.
The hallway seemed endless, but he managed to get into his room and lay down on the bed, his shirt steadily growing darker with blood. His breathing was slowing and he thought sickly, maybe I’ll bleed to death anyway.
It was his last conscious thought before passing out, his suicide note to his father hidden under him and his wrist continuing to bleed.
Chapter Forty-One
“My God, Cole.” Nancy whispered. “What did you do to yourself?”
Cole froze and slowly brought his eyes up to Nancy.
She didn’t notice…surely she didn’t…
But she was looking at his wrist. His sleeve had slipped up reaching for his coffee.
“Slipped with a knife…”
“You tried to kill yourself?” He swallowed and didn’t answer. “Answer me.”
“It’s not what you think…”
“Why did you do this?”
He shook his head. He couldn’t speak. He wanted to run, but he doubted he could even stand up. All he could do was stay here and hope that Nancy wouldn’t be too mad at him.
“I’m sorry, Nance, please don’t be mad at me.”
“Why would I be mad at you?” Surely the concern in her voice wasn’t for him. But it had to be. “I’m not mad at you. You didn’t do anything.”
He rested his head on the table. The glass felt nice against his skin.
“Why did you do this?”
“It’s nothing…”
“Cole, you tried to commit suicide! That’s something! Now what’s going on? Is it the withdrawal?”
If only.
“No.”
“Then what’s wrong?”
In answer he pulled his sleeve up the rest of the way and waited for her to say “Oh.” and forget about it. She didn’t.
“What happened?”
“I got grabbed.”
He risked looking up at her. Her face was confused, putting things together.
“Did you dad do this?”
He dropped his head and mumbled, “Yes.”
“Is this a regular thing?”
“Sometimes.”
He didn’t recognize the voice as his own.
“How long?”
“Long time.”
“Come on.”
“Where are we going?”
“My apartment. You’re not going home to that. You’re sick, you did that-” she pointed at his wrist “-and you can’t go home to a place that you’re getting beaten up. Come on.”
He couldn’t do anything but follow her. He felt confused and guilty and relieved. Mostly confused. Why was she doing this?
“Nance?”
“Hang on. I have to go bang on the car. It’s cold. Get in.”
He obeyed. It was a semi-nice car. The seats were soft and there was a stain on one of them. There was a banging noise and Nancy got in.
“There. She should start.”
“She?”
“Yeah. We’re gonna run by your house first to get your clothes, and then we’re going home. You need to lie down, maybe take a couple of painkillers.”
He gave her directions and leaned back.
“You can recline the seat if you want.”
“You don’t mind?”
“Of course not.”
He did. Nancy was humming to the radio. He closed his eyes and concentrated on that.
“Thank you.”
“Shh. You don’t sound like you should be talking.”
His throat did hurt and he shut up. It was an effort to stay awake.
* * * *
Nancy had trouble keeping her eyes on the road.
He tried to kill himself…good god, he tried to commit suicide!
Cole was nearly asleep in the seat, his wrist only too visible. The sight made her sick.
“Is this it?”
“Y-yeah. Yeah, it is. If you don’t want to do this, just drop me here…”
“No!”
He shrank back at her raised voice but said quietly, “Okay.”
She wondered if she was crazy, bringing a man into her house, into her safe zone. But she couldn’t, in all good conscience, leave him in this house. What if he ended up beaten to death?
“Dad’s at work, he shouldn’t be back for another hour.”
“Okay.”
She didn’t want to meet his dad. She didn’t know if she’d be scared or furious. Probably both.
Cole let them in with a barely-used key and said, “I’ll be down in a minute, I just have to get my stuff together.”
“Sure.”
It didn’t even cross her mind that he’d shoot up. He didn’t look like he wanted to be here.
“Do you need help?” she called.
“I’m fine!”
She turned around to look at the pictures on the wall. They were mostly professionally done, with Cole and a man that she guessed was his father dressed in formal clothes and standing in typical father-son poses. Sean was smiling in all of them. Cole was not. There was only one that he was smiling in, and that one had a woman she presumed was his mother in it.
“She left when I was seven.”
Nancy jumped, feeling as though she’d been prying into things she shouldn’t have, and turned around.
“Ready?”
“Yeah.”
“That was fast.”
“I don’t have that much.”
He was holding two backpacks, a second-hand duffel bag, and a pillow.
“Come on. Let’s get going, get you in bed.”
He followed her outside, quiet as a ghost, and put his possessions in the back of the car.
“I left a note for my dad saying that I moved out.” he said, sounding guilty.
“Good. You sure you have everything?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. We’ll be at my place in about an hour, if you want to nap.”
His eyes were already closing and he lay his head back.
“Thanks, Nance.”
“Sure. I’ll wake you when we get there.”
He nodded a little and let his breath out.
“Do you want to see a doctor for stitches?”
“No, no…it’s fine. I don’t care anymore.”
“Okay.”
The rest of the ride was silent.
* * * *
Nancy started on dinner fifteen minutes after they got in.
&nb
sp; “You need to eat, take some cold medicine, and get to bed. Tomorrow’s going to be hell.”
“It is?”
“Yes. Sit down.”
“I can help…”
“No.”
He sat down and looked around the kitchen. It was small, brown, and homey.
“What are you making?”
“Macaroni and cheese.”
“Okay.”
“I want to wrap your wrist really quick, okay? To make sure it doesn’t get infected.”
“It’s fine.”
“No. It’s not fine. It’ll take less than a minute to do it.”
He didn’t have the strength to argue with her and he flopped forward and rested his head on the table. Nancy came over a few minutes later with a bowl and a glass of milk.
“The macaroni is really bad for you, but maybe it’ll get some weight on you.”
He smiled.
“Thanks.”
“Sure. After this you should take a shower, then I’ll wrap your wrist and you can go to bed.”
She hadn’t asked for specifics about Sean, and he was grateful for that. He wasn’t ready to tell her yet.
Dinner was a hot, cheesy, gooey mess. It was delicious.
“Done?”
“Mm-hm.”
“You get enough?”
“Yeah. Thanks.”
“Sure. Go shower.”
He went without another word.
* * * *
Nancy had just finished putting the hide-a-bed together when Cole came out. His hair was damp and he was in a tee-shirt and sweats. His gloves were gone. She had never seen him in a tee-shirt-or gloveless, for that matter-and the sight made her jaw drop.
Cole’s arms and hands were covered in scars, some from needles, others from unknown objects. His skin was white, with purple bruises and red marks scattered along the length of his arms and hands. She forced herself to look him in the eye, but he wasn’t looking at her. He was looking at the floor instead.
He must really feel sick or he’d be wearing his sweater. Or at least his gloves.
“Cole?” she asked gently. He raised his eyes. “Does that look like enough blankets?”
He looked at the bed for a minute.
“Yeah. Thank you.”
“Sure. Check your fever, okay? I’m going to get you some cold medicine.”
She gave him the thermometer and went into the other room. When she came back, he was sitting on the bed, looking at the bandage on his wrist.
“What is it?”
“Hundred and three.”
“Here. Drink this and go to bed.”
He took the little cup from her, drank its contents, and got under the blankets.
“Thanks.”
“That should kick in about…fifteen minutes, I think. Maybe twenty. Just get comfortable and sleep while you can.”
“Thanks, Nance.”
Color Blind Page 7
