The Read And Weep Bundle: Anonymous, Perfectly Hopeless, Run

by Holly Hood

  “Mason I love you,” I said over and over again. He slowly let me go, the warmth and feel of him disappeared and now I stood there alone. I turned around looking into his eyes. They were a little wild, but still the same ones I remembered.

  Tears streamed down his handsome face. He smiled at me, taking in short breaths trying to hold it together as he fell apart right in front of me.

  I grabbed a hold of his face and kissed him. I didn’t care what it looked like to anyone out there.

  “I don’t know why you’re doing this. And I hate you for it.” I wiped at his tears, pressing my head into his forehead. He cupped the back of my head, sobbing harder. “I’m not leaving you. I will be right outside. Ok?” I clutched the back of his neck keeping him close. I didn’t want to let him go. I was afraid to let him go.

  “I know why I am doing this.” He kissed my forehead, stroking my hair. I started to cry. “Because you deserve it, because I love you. Because I’d never know what to do without you, and I’d rather never find out.” He kissed me again. We both laughed surprisingly. I touched his hair, pushing it away from his eyes. He was frightened, deep down I could see the fear. No matter how brave he wanted to look, I knew he was afraid.

  “Kendall, please go back to Joy Ann. Don’t hang around,” he told me. I shook my head no.

  “Remember what I said, Mason?” I knew he did. We talked about it every time we saw each other, every new beginning, every new adventure throughout the years. “We can get through anything. And I’ll never let you down. I’m not going to break that promise. It’s me and you like always.”

  Mason shook his head pulling away from me. He pushed me toward the door no longer caught up in the emotions.

  “Kendall get out of here!” He yelled at me. I winced at his angry tone, but walked through the door.

  “I’m not leaving,” I said, another officer grabbed me as soon as I stepped onto the sidewalk. He took me behind a car.

  “I’m not leaving,” I told him.

  “Just stay where you are then,” he grumbled, going back to his job of aiming at Mason.

  “He’s not a bag guy,” I told him. But it only fell on deaf ears, he didn’t care about what I had to say. I watched Mason, he stood completely still, listening to Mark. He was a mess, it was written all over him. I tried to hold it together as I watched, they did their best to convince him to just come out and give up.

  Nothing else mattered as I watched Mason. I pleaded to the heavens that Mason made it out of that store and into the cop car. I never wanted something so bad in my life. I never imagined Mason being arrested the best thing that could happen, but right now it was.

  We were the talk of the town. People gathered out in front of every stores and house as far as the eye could see to watch. It was more amusing then shocking to them what was unfolding right in front of them.

  I didn’t want Mason to be that guy—another Leon of Gusby. I didn’t want the last bit of freedom to be him going out like some low life. The guy that would be talked about for years to come, he was so much more than any of them would ever know. He was everything.

  He was my heart.

  Mark moved close to the doors and everything fell quiet. The officers grew stiffer as Mark tried a new approach.

  “I think this is one nut about to crack,” One young cop said to his buddy as they kept focus on Mason.

  The other one chuckled, not moving a single muscle. “This beats waiting around for the regular drunk calls over at the shed,” he said back.

  I held my breath, my eyes darting from Mason to all the guns aimed at him as Mark inched closer and closer to Mason. Mason held onto his gun for dear life. He was still, only his eyes darted nervously around as Mark got closer to him. I looked at his arm, the one that always stroked my hair, the one that saved me from falling, and the one that held me at night when I slept.

  “Come on buddy, don’t do anything stupid,” the officer next to me said steadying his aim.

  “Or maybe he should. This will be the most action I seen my whole career,” the other guy said, he didn’t care I was only feet away.

  Please Mason don’t move. I begged.

  I held my breath, I never felt so numb in all the years of my life, so dead on the inside, so out of control.

  “Kendall,” Mom yelled from somewhere behind me in the crowd. I spun on my heels, it was like a dream. My hair sailed along in the air, whipping against my sudden turn and slowly hit the side of my face.

  I found her in the crowd. Her tiny body jumping in place to get a better view, her hair crashed into her shoulders over and over again.

  The sound of gunshots filled the air. Everyone dropped to the ground in an instant. My own body slammed to the asphalt. And that was all I remembered, was black, nothing but black as the side of my face hugged the asphalt.

  I screamed as more shots went off above my head. I cupped my ears, trying to blot out the horrible noise. That pulled me back to all the times in my life I wanted to forget.

  I wasn’t sure how long I was on the ground. Or when everything fell silent all around me, the next thing I knew my mom was next to me yelling at the police, telling them I was her daughter. She patted my whole body frantically checking for gunshots.

  “I’m okay, where’s Mason?” I said, grabbing her by the arm. She pulled me to my feet. I couldn’t make sense of anything. I didn’t understand why all the police were no longer behind their doors and up at the bank.

  Momma pulled me toward the street. I fought back, digging my heels to stop her from making me leave.

  “Kendall, honey, he’s been shot. Let’s go back to the house. We can call the hospital,” she pleaded with me. Somehow my feet were moving. Somehow I managed to get away from the police station.

  I heard the words. That Mason had been shot, but it didn’t make sense. I didn’t understand. Why would anyone want to shoot Mason?

  “I need to see him,” I screamed suddenly frantic and afraid her words were real. I got free from her grip and ran back to the bank, passed the ambulance and paramedics as they ran toward the bank with medical equipment.

  I got passed the cops and made it to the window before someone could say anything to me. I slammed into the glass, my palms pressed against it, my nose touched the glass as I peered in.

  “Those are his feet,” I said out loud, I couldn’t see his face. But I knew his shoes. One of the paramedics shifted just enough that I could see his face.

  I screamed, banging on the glass in misery. I shouted Mason’s name, I begged him to get up. I was inside before the paramedic made it to his feet to scold the officers for letting me past. I didn’t care who tried to stop me, I wanted to see him. I needed to see him.

  “Mason!” I dropped to my knees beside him. I shoved the paramedic out of the way. He was bloody and still. He looked like he was sleeping.

  “Is he okay?” I asked the lady who only informed me to leave and let her do her job. Her expression was grim.

  “Kendall, we have to go,” she said stepping around shards of broken glass. They had allowed her inside to get me out. Afraid to upset me any further. “We can go to the hospital and wait there. They want you to talk to an officer; he will meet us at the hospital.”

  My mom steered me through the crowd of bystander. I didn’t fight; I just climbed into her car. I had no fight left in me. I only wanted to know what was happening to Mason and that he was going to be okay.

  July 28th

  Why were hospitals so white?

  Did the person who designed them want as little color as possible?

  Was it supposed to make us feel better served, the fact that we were sitting in such a boring environment?

  This was what my mind was thinking as I sat in the waiting area with my mom. I rested my head against my palm, trying to get comfortable in the uncomfortable hospital chairs.

  The hospital staff was nice enough to give me a blanket to keep me warm as I waited.

  The only thing that I k
new was that Mason was still in surgery. And so we waited, we waited to hear good news or bad news.

  I kept my eyes shut to avoid conversation with anyone. It seemed everyone wanted to talk about the gun battle that took place back at the bank. I plugged my ears whenever some idiot who wasn’t even there started in on what had happened. What they thought Mason had done, but no matter what I did it couldn’t drown out the gossip completely.

  People were saying Mason fired first. And I didn’t believe it. I couldn’t believe it. Mason would never shoot anyone. But then another part of me said maybe he did it on purpose. Maybe he wanted to be shot. And the thought of that just made me sick.

  “Do you even think they will tell us anything when they are done?” I asked finally. I sat up. My mom closed the magazine she was reading and looked at me. Her expression was sober.

  “His mom is in jail. They have to tell someone,” she said softly.

  I agreed, standing up. I walked a few feet to the water fountain. Mason was tough. I hoped this was over soon. I prayed it was something we would be talking about for years to come. I just wanted him to be okay, and to be able to move on.

  I wanted another chance to look into his eyes, the ones I took for granted. I already missed him horribly. It was hard to remember the sound of his voice. I hoped it was from the trauma and I wasn’t slowly forgetting how to remember him.

  I replayed his smile in my mind over and over again. I never wanted to forget a single thing about him, even for a second. I just wanted him to be okay.

  The cool water hit my lips. I didn’t drink it, I just passed a few miserable seconds doing something other than having a nervous breakdown. At least I could feel something other than agony. I was so tired and empty. Life felt wrong without Mason around.

  “Kendall,” a tall man said. I straightened up and wiped the corner of my mouth with my hand. He flashed his badge and quickly shoved it in his shirt pocket.

  “Yes?” I asked, hoping to hear news about Mason. Maybe he knew something.

  “Could I speak with you for a moment? I’d like to ask you a few questions,” he said.

  I stared at him. His brown leather shoes, wrinkle free khakis, he was everything I wasn’t. He was maybe thirty, well groomed and taller than most. I wondered how much sympathy a guy like him would have for Mason—or me.

  “Sure,” I said, following him down the hall to the vending machines.

  “Are you hungry?” he asked, shoving some coins into the machine. I watched his hands, he hands were shaking as he pressed the buttons.

  “No, I’m not hungry,” I said flat. No food would have survived the pit of my stomach at that moment.

  He nodded understandingly and moved on. “Tell me a little about Mason.”

  “What do you want to know?” I raised an eyebrow. “He’s a great guy. He would never harm anyone. Is he okay?”

  “I think I am going about this all wrong. My name is John Rhodes.” He wiped his hand against his khakis and offered his hand. “Please excuse me, this is all new to me,” he said. He rested his soda on the ground.

  “Hi, John,” I said letting out a sigh. It was a little relieving to know he was nervous. Somehow it made me feel better.

  “As of right now they only told me Mason is still in surgery, There was a lot of damage,” he left it at that. Part of me was glad, I didn’t want to know the exact details.

  “But he’s not dead?” I asked, I just wanted to hear someone tell me he was still holding on.

  “He is not dead. I haven’t heard that,” he shook his head, fidgeting where he stood. He picked his soda back up and cracked it open.

  “What’s going to happen to him?” I asked. I knew if Mason made it out okay he still wasn’t going to be free.

  “I can’t really say either way. We have a lot of people looking into things. Mason committed a crime. And that can’t be brushed under a rug. But we also understand there was a lot more to this. A lot has taken place over the years,” he said. He raked a hand through his short brown hair. His skill at reading people was horrible.

  “Mason and I never had a choice. He was forced to go along with everything that has happened all these years. He’s a good guy. He’s the most caring person I know. He would never hurt anyone,” I said. I wiped the tears away.

  John was confused.

  “Those two woman, Wanda and Payton, they’re the ones responsible for all of this. If you ask me they are the ones who should be shot or rotting in prison, not Mason,” I said, trying to calm my nerves and my tears.

  “Look, I know you’re a young girl. I’ve learned a little about your situation. I feel for you. But Mason is a bit older and he made some bad choices. Maybe some you aren’t even aware of. If he pulls through this he is looking at some major legal obstacles I won’t lie to you, Kendall. It’s hard to say if there is a judge that could forgive someone like this,” he explained.

  It all pained me. It was true. People were going to judge Mason, they were going to treat him like a reject, not a hero. He would be lucky to get any kind of sympathy, even for trying to save me.

  “I won’t keep you too much longer. I just wanted to know if you yourself ever seen Mason committing any crimes. Have you seen it yourself?” He pulled out a notepad.

  I really couldn’t believe this man’s stupidity. As if I would confess to all of our sins. All the things we did because we saw no other options, because we were young and controlled by to horrible woman.

  “No, I didn’t. The only thing Mason did was try to break free from Payton. He wanted better for us. That’s all he ever talked about,” I said.

  He nodded, jotting something down on his paper. “I will let you get back now. Thank you,” he said.

  I turned to leave and stopped in my tracks. “Who will they notify of his condition?” I asked.

  He tipped his head to the side letting out a sigh. “He has no emergency contacts other than his mother who is currently in a correctional facility.”

  “What good is that to him? I’m the closest person to him. I want to be informed,” I said. “His mother doesn’t deserve to know anything about Mason. Please, if you could do anything for Mason, don’t call her or his father.” I begged.

  John hesitated and then at the last second when I lost hope he would help me he shook his head yes. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  I walked back to my seat. “I hope she rots in hell,” I said angrily. I plopped down next to my mom. She dropped her magazine in her lap.

  “Wanda or Payton?” she asked amused.

  “Well, both. But Payton, he’s in there fighting for his life all because of her. He wouldn’t be in this mess if it wasn’t for that awful woman.” I sighed, closing my eyes, praying for Mason to pull through.

  “Neither would you, Kendall.” She took my hand. “You have to have faith that things will turn out alright.”

  I laughed. “I had faith my whole life and it never got me anywhere. I don’t know if I believe that.”

  She stroked the top of my hand with her fingertips trying to comfort me.

  “I don’t know what to do. Mason screwed everything up. Did he do it on purpose because he figured he wouldn’t be around to suffer the consequences?” I clutched my stomach sick at the thought of it.

  “Kendall, don’t talk like that. After all you guys have gone through. You have to hope for the best. Mason cared about you very much. He did this because he thought he was out of options,” she said.

  “He was always thinking about me. I think he wanted to die,” I said miserable.

  Two men and one woman came from behind the hospital doors. They looked like doctors and a nurse. The taller one pulled off his gloves, he was covered in blood that I assumed was Mason’s. He looked very stern and almost irritated as he scanned the waiting room.

  His eyes settled on me and my heart fluttered to life in my chest. I got up knowing he was there for Mason. My mom stayed back and let me have my space.

  “Kendall I take it?
” he asked a bit standoffish. “I have been informed of the situation with his mother. This is very unethical to be telling you his condition. But I’ll look past it this one time.”

  I swallowed the huge lump in my throat. Adrenaline rushed my body. I held my breath waiting for him to say something.

  “You can go see him if you like,” he said, he pushed the door open letting me through.

  Momma was quickly at my side. We followed the nurse down the hallway. Nothing was on my mind but getting there, to see Mason.

  “Are you okay?” Mom asked.

  The nurse came to a stop at the end of the hall. She waited patiently for me to go inside.

  “I really don’t know,” I said, scared of what he looked like. Or how much pain he was in.

  She took my hand and walked with me through the door. I forced myself to look at Mason. And my heart broke.

  “So this is what he gets for having such a terrible life?” I asked, as the tears escaped. “I never imagined this is what he would look like dead.”

  Momma touched my arm trying to comfort me. I moved closer, bringing my hand down on the table. He was exactly the way he always looked. Eyes closed, hair a mess, as if he was sleeping.

  My heart crashed in my chest. I was sure it was going to stop. I tried to hold it together. He was gone. I just wanted to believe he was going to wake up and look at me. That he was going to say something Mason like. Or laugh at me for being stupid.

  The memories rushed forward, I thought back on the day I saw him after so many months. How he nearly crushed me in his arms. He had been so happy to see me. How safe I felt in his arms again after all the time spent away from him.

  Or the moment I realized I loved him. I smiled at the moments he stood up to Wanda for me. Or how he always teased me, and no matter what everything he did was always for me, me first and him second.

  And there he lay in front of me no longer able to hold up his end of the deal. The promise we made meant nothing now. He wouldn’t be able to tell me how much he loved me anymore. There would be no more soft touches, or smiles when he pressed his lips against my cheek and whispered in my ear like he always did.