Sparrow

by Mary Cecilia Jackson

  “So do you really expect me to believe everything’s okay? You’re always looking over your shoulder, like you’re afraid of something. I wish I could put you in the Witness Protection Program, but you’d have to want to go. And honestly? That’s what scares me the most. Because there’s no way anyone can protect you from yourself!”

  Even her lips have gone pale. “Shut up, Lucas!” She shoves her feet into her Uggs, grabs her bag, and marches out the door. I catch up with her before she makes it outside.

  “You’re lying to me,” I say to the back of her head. “You’re lying to Delaney and Levkova and your dad and Sophie and all the people who care about you. You’re scared, Sparrow. You’re scared of Tristan.”

  She wheels around and walks back to me.

  “I. Said. Shut. Up!” she cries, shoving against my chest with both hands. Her fingernails are bitten bloody, worse than usual. “Who the hell do you think you are, Lucas? It’s not your job to protect me. I never asked you to care, and I don’t need you sticking your nose into my life! Tristan and I are none of your business, so back off!”

  She crashes out the door.

  For a second I can’t catch my breath. I can’t move. Then I run after her.

  “Sparrow! Wait! Stop! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

  I watch as she screeches out of the parking lot, fishtailing and spraying water when she hits the potholes. She flies through the yellow light at the intersection half a block away. I stand shivering in the rain until her taillights disappear.

  Walking back to the studio, soaked to the skin, I tell myself I was right to call her out. I was right to tell her I know something bad is going down. That she’s not as good at keeping secrets as she thinks she is. Pretty sure she’s the one who threw the lemons in the trash at Delaney’s. I know about the Aubrey paintings and her bad dreams, and I know she does fouettés in the middle of the night when she needs to stop remembering her mother.

  I was right, and it makes me feel like one of those guys who bashes baby seals in the head for a living.

  I just blew up the last thing in my life that was good.

  Sparrow

  For I have sworn thee fair and thought thee bright,

  Who art as black as hell, as dark as night.

  WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE, “Sonnet 147”

  14

  August, After

  I lie at the bottom of a deep, silent sea. My bones have turned to ice. My eyes are frozen shut. I am so cold.

  Far above me, flashing lights spin, burning red and blue, blue and red. A wild screaming noise fills my head, building to a crescendo, falling and rising again, over and over. I know there are people up there, but I can’t see them. I know I need to fight, to swim hard and strong up to where they are. I know I should shout, “I’m here! I’m still me!”

  But I can’t do it. It is too hard, and I am too tired.

  I’m not going up there. Down here I’m cold, but I’m safe.

  I rock gently in the current.

  Soon there are stars.

  * * *

  People running. Bright lights stab into my eyes. Inside the running there is shouting and a man, whispering. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. The stars and the words bear me up, into the light and the noise.

  Shoes pound on the floor, heavy, loud, and clumsy, not light and graceful like pointe shoes. Though I try to hold on to the man’s voice, to ride it like a wave back into the silent dark, I am pulled back again and again until I surrender.

  A thousand thousand people are talking at once, over and around and below each other. The voices are outside and inside me. They won’t go away. They won’t leave me alone.

  I try to say hush, please hush, but I can’t feel my mouth or my throat. I don’t know if there’s anything left of me.

  * * *

  “On my count. One. Two. Three.”

  “We lost her twice on the way.”

  “Give it to me fast, Mike. Angela, I need that intubation tray, quick. Quick!”

  “They found her at Aubrey’s Cove. Looks like she was out there most of the night. Multiple maxillofacial injuries, at least five broken ribs. Both pupils reactive to light. Injuries inside the mouth, four missing teeth, and it looks like she bit through her bottom lip. Petechiae in and around both eyes, scratches and abrasions on her neck. Defense wounds on both forearms. Right ankle is bruised and swollen.”

  “Do we have ID?”

  “Avery Rose’s daughter.”

  “Sparrow?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Lord have mercy.”

  “I didn’t even know it was her until we checked her pockets and found her license.”

  “What about consent? Who’s here?”

  “Her father’s right outside, with Sophie. They’re both hanging on by their fingernails.”

  “Angela, could you go out and make sure those consent forms get signed? Just ask for consent right now. I’ll talk to them as soon as we get her stable. Mike, do they know who did it? Did they get him?”

  “They’ve brought the boyfriend, that King kid, in for questioning. Tommy’s hanging around, hoping he can talk to her.”

  “Nope. Not going to happen.”

  “He knows. Also, you didn’t hear this from me, but he’s looking a little shaky. You might want to have someone check him out. He’s the one who got to her first. She’s going to be okay, right?”

  “Hush, Mikey. She can hear you. We’ll know more in a few hours.”

  “Yeah, but damn it, Mags. She’s had more bad stuff in her life than most kids her age. You’d think she’d catch a break.”

  “I know, sweetie. Go on now. You did amazing out there. Now let us do what we do.”

  * * *

  “Sparrow? Can you hear me? Can you open your eyes for me? Try to open your eyes, Sparrow.

  “Okay then. You rest for now. Hang on to the sound of my voice. My name is Maggie. I’m the doctor who’s taking care of you. You’re safe now, in the emergency room at Saint Germaine’s. Only good people are here, people who care about you.

  “Can you squeeze my hand a little? Squeeze if you can hear me.

  “Okay, no worries, sweetie. I’m not going to lie, Sparrow, you’re pretty banged up, but we’re going to do everything we can to help you get better. I know you’re scared and hurting, but don’t be afraid. We won’t leave you. You’re safe, I promise.

  “Sparrow, while I’m talking, you’ll feel me touching you. I need to find all the places where you’re hurt, and we need to take some pictures, so you might see some bright flashes. We also need to get some X-rays and a CT scan to see what’s hurt on the inside. David, hang on a second. Help me hold her so I can see her back. There, right there, that’s good.

  “You know, Sparrow, I saw you dance last year. I took Hannah, my little girl, to see you in The Nutcracker. You were such a wonderful Clara. We came backstage to see you after. You pulled a rose out of that huge bouquet, and you gave it to Hannah and curtsied to her, just like she was a princess. She’s never forgotten it. She’s only seven, but she says she wants to be a ballerina, just like you.

  “Stay with me, Sparrow. You stay with me. You’re a fighter. Fight now, honey. Fight hard.

  “We’ll let your daddy come in after a little while, and your aunt, too. Rest now, and when you’re ready, you come back to us. You come on back, you hear me?”

  * * *

  “Sweet Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. Oh, my baby, I’m so sorry. I’m going to find who did this and when I do, I promise you, I’m going to…”

  “Avery. Not now. Keep it together.”

  “Look at her, Soph! Holy God, look what he’s done to her!”

  “I am looking at her. She’s still our Sparrow. She can hear you, little brother. Talk to her. Tell her you love her.”

  A long, trembling breath.

  “Baby, it’s Daddy. I love you so much, and I’m right he
re, my sweetheart. Open your eyes, honey. Oh God, please, don’t do this to me. Don’t leave me, Sparrow. Please, honey.”

  A strangled cry.

  “Oh, Sparrow, my sweet baby. I’ve failed you in the worst way, in every way. I’m so sorry, for not seeing, for not knowing. I’m so sorry! You’re the most precious thing in the world to me, and I should have known! I’ve been so blind! I couldn’t see anything, not now, not then, even when you were four and stopped smiling and laughing. I was always so worried about her, and all the time you were the one who was suffering. Oh dear God, forgive me! Open your eyes, sweetheart, please. I promise, I’ll do anything. Please, baby girl. Come back to me.”

  My father, sobbing.

  * * *

  Jasmine perfume. Silvery wind chime sounds. Bracelets. Soft hair on my face, warm breath in my ear.

  “Sparrow, my little bird. Wake up, love. Let me see your beautiful eyes. Wake up, sweetheart. There are angels all around you, Sparrow. Nothing can hurt you here. You’re safe now. Come back, love. We’re all here, waiting.”

  * * *

  “Hey, Birdy Bird. Hey.”

  Quick footsteps, walking away. A whisper, barely there. Help me, Dad, help me.

  “Sophie, I can’t do this. I can’t even tell it’s her. What happened to her hair?”

  “Lucas, take a breath, love. It’s scary, I know, and it’s so brave of you to be here. I know this must be awful after everything you went through with your dad. If it’s too much, I totally understand. It’s a lot to ask. It’s just—we think she hears us, so we’re trying to get the people she loves to come talk to her. To see if we can bring her back.”

  A shallow breath, then another.

  Slow footsteps, coming back.

  “No, no, it’s okay. I just freaked out for a second. I’m good. I’ll stay.”

  “Okay, honey. They had to shave her head so they could stitch her scalp. As soon as the swelling goes down, they’ll take the tube out of her throat. Do you want me to step out? Would that make things easier?”

  “You wouldn’t mind?”

  “Not at all. Come hug me goodbye when you’re done. Five minutes, that’s all, okay?”

  A chair dragged across the floor.

  “Birdy, it’s Lucas. I’m holding your hand. Can you feel me? Come back and dance with me, Birdface. We can do fish dives all day long if you want.”

  My hand turned over, my fist opened, warm breath on my fingers. A scratchy kiss in my palm.

  “Wake up, Sparrow. Wake up so I can tell you how sorry I am for all the terrible things I said to you. Come back and tell me you hate my guts. I don’t care what you say as long as you come back. I just—I can’t lose you.”

  * * *

  Light footsteps. Amazing Grace perfume. Fingers stroking my forehead. Soft voice drifting down through the dark of an endless tunnel, where no light has ever been.

  “Oh, Sparrow.” Quick, shallow, shaking breaths.

  “Why couldn’t you talk to me? Why couldn’t you tell me how bad it was? You must have been so scared.

  “I don’t know what to say, except I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you. I should have known. I should have listened to Lucas. I should have done something. You’re my best friend, and it kills me that you were alone with all that, with him, for so long.

  “Remember how when we were little, Sophie and my mom took us to Nutcracker every Christmas? We’d get all dressed up and have a fancy dinner before? Remember how when we were nine we decided that the sound of pointe shoes on the stage floor was the most beautiful sound in the world? When you dance, Sparrow, you have something none of the rest of us will ever have. It’s like you’re all filled up with magic or, I don’t know, light from the stars.

  “I brought my lucky pointe shoes with me. I’m tucking them underneath your blanket. I wore them for my audition at the conservatory when we were in sixth grade. Remember how terrified we were? Maybe they’ll help you find your way home.

  “I promise I won’t miss anything ever again. Please come back, Bird Girl. I can’t let you go. Not like this.”

  * * *

  Lilacs and snow. Footsteps whispering, gliding.

  A voice, aching, full of sadness.

  “My little bird, my beautiful dancer.”

  Soft cheek pressed against mine.

  “I have never borne a child, but I love you as though you were my own. Oh, my dearest child, how I wish I had told you this before.”

  A kiss on each cheek.

  “You must live. You must. This is all that is left to us in the face of evil and suffering and grief. Live, darling Sparrow. Live to dance again. Live for your papa, for your aunt Sophie. Live for Lucas and Delaney and everyone who loves you.

  “Live for me.

  “Please. Live for me.”

  Levkova, weeping.

  * * *

  All the stars have gone away. Only the dark remains, and the voices that come to me from far away, telling me to come back.

  But I don’t know how anymore. I feel myself fading, bleeding softly into the dark, everything I once was slipping away, like smoke into shadow.

  15

  In the Valley of the Shadow

  Insubstantial as air, I float near the ceiling of the hospital room, looking down at the wreckage that used to be me. The girl in the bed doesn’t even look human. Her eyes are black and swollen shut. Both arms are in casts to her elbows. There’s a tube down her throat, and her right foot is bandaged, the toes purple and black. Bloody stitches march across her forehead and her scalp. She has no hair.

  Staring at his folded hands, my father whispers magic words to himself, over and over again. “All will be well, all will be well, and all manner of things shall be well.”

  Sophie stands at the window, arms crossed tightly across her body, swaying from side to side. She hums tunelessly and wipes her eyes with a balled-up tissue.

  I’ve come to say goodbye. I’m not going back to that body. I won’t live in her skin again. I don’t know where I’ll go next. I don’t care. I only know I don’t want this.

  I drift softly down to the bed and hover over the broken girl, a breath, a whisper away. She smells like chemicals, like blood and sweat. There’s shiny ointment on her eyes and her cracked lips. Her chest rises and falls, like her insides have turned to clockwork.

  I whisper in her ear, telling her that she doesn’t have to suffer any longer. I touch her face with my hand, which has become transparent. I can see the veins glowing inside, like tiny blue roads. She is not me. I am not her.

  Come on, I say. Let’s go. It won’t hurt anymore, I promise. Nothing hurts here. My father stands up so quickly that his chair tips over. It makes a loud, metallic noise that echoes in the silent room. His eyes are wide, and his hands are trembling. He lowers the railing on the bed and leans over the ruined girl. With his face inches from hers, he whispers, “Sparrow?” He strokes her swollen cheek.

  Instantly, Sophie is beside him.

  “Did she move?”

  “No. I just thought—never mind. It was nothing.”

  “You felt her, didn’t you, Avery? Something happened.”

  “Maybe. I don’t know. I thought I heard her voice, but that’s impossible. I hoped—never mind. I was half asleep. Just a dream.”

  “What did she say?”

  “What does it matter?”

  Sophie returns to her post at the window. My father closes his eyes.

  Come, girl in the bed. Come with me. It’s time.

  * * *

  Nothing hurts. I am whole. There are no casts, no bruises, no bloody stitches. My hands are filled with golden light; it pours from my fingertips. I’m wearing an ivory lace camisole and a fluttering chiffon skirt. My pointe shoes gleam softly in the sunlight.

  The Honeysuckle Pond is the same, but different. The landscape is familiar and impossible at the same time, like being inside a fairy tale. Climbing roses and honeysuckle twine around the trunks and fall gracefully from
the branches of towering tulip poplars. The forest floor is carpeted with bluebells and forget-me-nots. White rhododendrons, in full flower, bloom from crevices in the rocks. Bright red cardinals dive and swoop around me, trilling their songs. The waterfall is bigger and higher, roaring with summer rain. I am standing on the flat, sun-warmed rock in the middle of the creek. Cold, clear water rushes all around me.

  I do a perfect arabesque on my rock, then a deep, heartfelt révérence to the waterfall. My arms feel like liquid, fluid and strong. I will dance here forever. Inside the rushing water, the rocks and roaring waterfall, around and between the singing birds and the wind sighing through the trees, an oboe weeps and grieves. I begin to dance the fourth act of Swan Lake, which I’ve never danced before, but somehow know by heart. I am filled with sorrow and loss. Siegfried has betrayed me, promising himself to another. Now I am doomed to be a swan forever, my heart filled with love that has nowhere to go.

  I dance and dance, my body mirroring the depth of my despair, the love I will carry with me until my dying day, the pain of his betrayal. My feet float over the sparkling creek. My arms bend in supplication, pleading with the waterfall, the trees and the flowers. My heart cries out to the earth and the sky. Please let it not be true, that I am lost. I surrender to an anguish so deep, I know it will consume me.

  Across the water lies a place where the sun does not reach. It shimmers with heat and malevolence. I shiver. Something bad happened there. I turn away and concentrate on the water, the wavering light, the riot of flowers, my beautiful shoes. If I don’t look at the darkness, I can’t be afraid. If I don’t look, I can’t remember.