Defect

Home > Other > Defect > Page 2
Defect Page 2

by Danielle James


  “Ezra, we were rear-ended by a truck driver asleep at the wheel. The back of my SUV was completely crushed. You were partially ejected through the windshield. You broke a few ribs but mainly your injuries were to your brain. They’ve been slowly waiting for the swelling to go down to properly assess the damage.

  That’s why you were put in a coma. You wouldn’t wake up though. A week passed and you didn’t respond to their efforts to wake you up.”

  “So during that time, you decided to bury my twin? You didn’t wait for me?”

  “I didn’t know if I was going to have to bury you too, Ezra! I’m sorry you didn’t get to see Ev one last time. It breaks my heart.”

  “Does it?” I barked out a harsh laugh and it filled the room like heavy gray clouds.

  “Don’t sit here and act like you’re the only one experiencing grief.” She spat at me. Her words trembled from between her lips.

  “You got closure. You got an explanation. You got to see Everett! The last time I saw my twin was when we were talking outside of your truck.” I knew we texted back and forth on the way to the game—the game we never reached—but I couldn’t remember what we texted about. I couldn’t remember anything about the ride at all.

  “You need to listen to me, son.” Mom stood and took a tentative step toward me. Once she was close enough, I realized I could clearly see the gray hair sprouting from the top of her head. It was like she aged in the short time during the accident and my hospital stay. “Because of your brain trauma you’ll never be the same.”

  “No, I won’t ever be the same because I lost a part of myself when Everett died!”

  “This isn’t you speaking right now. The doctors said you’d be different after the brain trauma. Your frontal lobe was affected. You’ll have a short temper, you’ll be impulsive, and you’ll have trouble making decisions. There’s a lot of stuff you won’t be able to do anymore.

  So, whatever resentment you have in your heart toward me, you have to let it go. I’m the one who’s going to have to take care of you from now on. We have to work together. The doctors don’t know if you’ll be able to live alone or…”

  I didn’t want to hear anything she was saying. It didn’t feel right. It didn’t feel real. I was definitely angry and confused but after everything that happened shouldn’t I have been?

  “No. That’s not right,” I said.

  “That’s why they’ve been running so many tests, scans, and x-rays. They’re trying to see the extent of it all but from what they can tell, you won’t ever be the same Ezra you used to be and you’re going to need a lot of help. Let me help you, baby.” She reached out to touch the side of my face but I shoved her hand away. “When you do stuff like that, it hurts,” she told me.

  “How do you think I feel right now? I don’t want comfort. I want to be left alone, Ma. I want to talk to my fucking brother.”

  “You don’t think I know that? You don’t think I want to talk to him too? To hug him one more time. To kiss my son? I should have never had to bury him.” She shook her head as tears slid down her penny brown face.

  “I should be the one in the ground. Not Ev.” Mom grabbed my hand and held it firmly in hers, forcing me to look at her.

  “Don’t you dare say that. It’s hard enough losing one son. I don’t even want to think about something happening to you too. You’re all I have now, Ezra.”

  I was all she had. She was all I had. I still felt so angry though. It was like wielding a sword far too big and heavy. I had no idea where to put my anger and I started to wonder if it was because my brain wasn’t right anymore. I was broken. I was only a piece of what I used to be. Losing Everett didn’t help with that.

  I’d never be the same again.

  “I want to talk to the doctor. Why is he always talking to you? Nobody has explained anything to me yet and I’m the goddamn patient.”

  “Please stop talking like that. I barely recognize your voice. Everything about you is different. You’re like a brand new person. I know I have to get to know you all over again but lets at least establish some decency.”

  “I don’t want to be decent. If I did, I’d be polite. Nothing about me feels polite so if you don’t like me cursing when I talk then I don’t know what to tell you.” No matter how many times I heard the tiny voice in my broken brain tell me that I shouldn’t be speaking to my mother the way I was, I couldn’t stop it.

  The part of my head that filtered out the thoughts from the words that actually made it out of my mouth seemed to have dissolved. Whatever popped into my head came out of my mouth. It didn’t seem to matter if it was harsh or not. There didn’t seem to be much left of sweet, quiet Ezra. This new Ezra was blunt, harsh, and uninhibited.

  What the fuck did I have to lose?

  My brother was dead.

  From the way things sounded, I could never lead a normal life again.

  I had nothing.

  Being a dick was the least of my worries.

  “We’ll work on it. We have a long road ahead of us, Ezra but we can do it together.” She reached up to touch my face but curled her fingers inward and dropped her hand to her side instead. “I figure when all this is done, you can go back to school and finish out senior year and after you graduate I’ll find you a job and…”

  “Wait, find me a job? I applied to NYU. I don’t want to graduate and get a job. I want to go to college like I planned. Like me and Ev planned.” I saw my brother’s face in my mind and it crushed me.

  Before I knew what was happening, tears were consuming me. Drowning me at a rate I couldn’t keep up with. I drew in a staggered breath and shut my eyes. It didn’t help the fact that I still saw his face.

  The entire time I’d been conscious, I avoided looking at a mirror because I knew I’d see Everett’s face looking back at me. It was the only time I wished we weren’t identical in every way. Looking at me was like looking at him and I couldn’t handle it right then. I didn’t know if I had scars or if my face was swollen and bruised. I didn’t care either. I didn’t care if I never saw my face again.

  “You aren’t able to go to school on your own, Ezra. If you want, we can enroll you in community college so you’re close to the house. You need to be somewhere nearby. Somewhere I can drop you off and pick you up from.” I opened my eyes and glared at her.

  “What? I can’t drive either?” It felt like my entire world was spinning so fast it was turning to dust before my eyes. “So for the rest of my life, I have to be some kind of fucking invalid?”

  “You need help now. Like I said, we’ll work on the way you talk and the outbursts. They’re just a symptom of your brain trauma. I spoke to the doctor about your cursing when you first woke up and he said that because it may be difficult for you to access words to properly describe how you feel, you’ll go for buzz words.”

  “So I’m stupid now too? Fucking perfect.” I wanted to crack my skull open and pry my brain out so I could examine all the dead parts that would never come to life again.

  “No. Don’t say that. You are not stupid. Just…different.” I saw the way she looked at me when she said I was different. I was different in a way that she didn’t like. I wasn’t her son anymore. I didn’t feel like her son anymore. I felt like a stranger. Even inside my own body.

  “Whatever, Ma. You know what? I don’t even want to deal with this shit right now. I just want to go see my brother and I want to get the fuck out of this hospital.”

  “I know, Ez. You should be ready to go in a few days, okay? Then we can go home and everything will be fine.”

  “That’s bullshit, but whatever.” I sat down on the bed and stared at the TV mindlessly because that’s all I could think to do. I was tired of thinking and hurting. I was tired of paying attention and trying to figure things out. Mom seemed like she wanted to take over so I was ready to let her.

  Fuck this new life.

  …

  SOLANA

  I woke in the dead of night when I heard the f
ront door close. My eyes adjusted to the darkened room, honing in on the Hulk nightlight on the far wall by the door. The little body beside me curled into a tight, nervous ball. I was nervous too but I couldn’t let him know. I had to stay calm. I steadied my breathing and leaned down to kiss the top of his head. His soft curls brushed against my lips and he clung to me like I was his lifesaver.

  I took slow steady breaths and shut my eyes. I hoped that Malachi remembered the deep breathing techniques I taught him. I wasn’t even supposed to be in the house right then but I couldn’t ignore Malachi’s texts about not being able to sleep.

  I meditated while I held him and the only thing I concentrated on the entire time was keeping that child safe. As long as his father didn’t come into the room, he’d be fine. Unfortunately, Malachi’s dad was his biggest threat.

  Heavy uncoordinated footsteps climbed the stairs and I pushed out a calm breath. I never stopped holding on to Malachi. I never stopped meditating. The footsteps paused in front of the bedroom door and I held the six-year-old tighter.

  After what seemed like forever, the footsteps moved away from the room and down the hall. I pushed out a relieved breath and pressed another kiss to the top of Malachi’s head. The feeling of his muscles relaxing in my arms was the best feeling in the world.

  “Go to sleep,” I whispered. He nodded against my chest and settled in for the night. I couldn’t sleep though. I had to make sure his father didn’t barge in his room in the middle of the night.

  Time stretched on and on and even though I dozed on and off, I got zero rest.

  When the sun started to rise in the sky. I woke Malachi up gently and tried to get him ready for kindergarten as quietly as possible. I snuck him into the hallway, careful not to put too much weight on the floorboards that I knew were creaky. Once we were in the bathroom, I helped him brush his teeth, only turning on the water when we needed to. I didn’t want to risk waking his father up.

  “Malachi, where is your washcloth? We need to wash your face.” I peeked inside the shower and cringed. It clearly hadn’t been cleaned since I lived there. Gray grime crawled up the tiled wall while clusters of black pinpoints gathered in the corners. I swallowed back my disgust and shut my eyes. There was no washcloth in there and even if there were, I wouldn’t dare let him use it. I looked around but there was nothing in the tiny bathroom that I could use. With a heavy sigh, I wet the bottom of my T-shirt and washed his face using the tiny sliver of soap on the sink. I’d clean him up more when we got to my car.

  “Come on, tyke. Let’s hurry up and get the hell out of here.”

  “Before Daddy wakes up,” he muttered. I nodded and smoothed his dark curls back. His hair was getting longer. Now his crop of thick hair brushed against his earlobes.

  Once some of the muck was wiped off his face, I rushed him back to his bedroom and made sure he got dressed. His pants were too short and his shirt was riddled with holes but he didn’t need to look perfect. I grabbed his tiny hand in mine and we breezed down the hall in a carefully coordinated way that didn’t disturb any squeaky spots. I held my breath the entire time. I refused to give my lungs any relief until we were outside.

  The minute I turned the knob on the front door and squeezed us through the opening, I released my pent up breath and so did he. “I thought we’d never get out of there, Solo,” he said. He rushed down the street and we turned several corners before reaching my yellow Volkswagen bug.

  Malachi buckled his seatbelt and finally let a smile cross his sandy brown face. His big doe eyes slid shut and he rolled down the window. He was on his own private vacation. His small chubby cheeks pushed upward even further when I started the engine. “Thanks, Solo,” he said.

  “Let’s go get some breakfast and clothes, tyke.”

  I drove to the closest Target and tossed a pair of jeans and a t-shirt in the basket. I also picked up a pack of socks and underwear for him. “If I get you a pack of baby wipes, can you keep them hidden? I want you to be able to clean yourself up. Remember how I taught you?” He nodded and walked alongside me fingering the soft fabric of the blue t-shirt I had in the basket. It had a bright green dinosaur on the front and it read: You’re RAWRsome. He couldn’t stop staring at it. I’d be lying if I said that his enthusiasm over something as basic as a t-shirt didn’t make my eyes sting with tears of anger and frustration.

  No kid should be that enamored with a t-shirt. No kid should yearn for something that should be provided without a second thought. His father made my skin crawl. Bile crept up the back of my throat thinking about the fact that I used to sleep with that monster.

  “Yeah. Face, underarms, privates.” He counted off on his fingers.

  “Yup. You got it. Hide it in your special box. The one I got you with the lock. Where do you keep it?” I asked.

  “In my closet under my clothes.”

  “Very good, baby.” I picked up some food for lunch and then we checked out. Before we left, we stopped at Starbucks and I got him a bowl of oatmeal and a slice of banana bread. Malachi inhaled every bite like he’d never eaten. “When did you eat last?”

  “I don’t know. Lunch at school yesterday. My account is empty though and I had to each a cheese sandwich.”

  “That’s all?” I felt like screaming. I rubbed my forehead and took him to the bathroom after he was done eating. It was getting close to nine o’clock and he had to be at school.

  “Are you gonna help me wash up? You don’t have to.”

  “Yes. I swear I don’t know what you get into at school.” I ran hot water and put extra soap on one of the baby wipes I bought then I scrubbed his face clean.

  “I like to play rough,” he told me with a grin. It amazed me that he could still be upbeat and happy-go-lucky with the shitty hand he was dealt. “I can wash up.” He took the wipes and went into a stall by himself. He was so independent. He also happened to be the smartest six-year-old I ever met. It was the only way we were able to communicate and that I could help him so much.

  “Okay, I’m done. Can we go to school now?” He walked out of the stall with a smile.

  “Let’s put on your new clothes, then you can go.” I helped him out of his old clothes and into his new ones. I put the old ones in a Target bag and then rushed him out of the door. It wasn’t until I took time to watch him getting into the passenger side of my car did I realize the angry red scratches stretching around his neck, marring his beautiful skin. I swallowed back all the toxic, jagged obscenities I wanted to hurl at his father. I didn’t notice the marks before we left his house because the sun was just starting to rise and we were rushing. Seeing them now made me sick. I pulled off with tense muscles and a ticking jaw that refused to calm down no matter how much deep breathing I did.

  We pulled up to his elementary school at nine on the dot. I rushed him out of the car and hand delivered him to class with a soft smile. Malachi walked through the doors like nothing was wrong. He greeted his teachers and his friends with grins and adorable laughter that I wouldn’t have been able to muster at his age and in his situation.

  Before he disappeared into the routine of his day, he stopped in his tracks, turned around, and ran full-force to me with open arms. “I love you, Solo. Thank you.”

  “I love you too, Malachi. Have a good day and try to stay safe.” I bent down and kissed his forehead then he rushed back to class.

  I didn’t leave the school right away. I went to the principal’s office. I knew she was getting ready to start on announcements but I needed to talk to her.

  “Principal Monroe, are you busy?” I walked into her office like I lived there and had a seat. The smell of fresh orchids on her desk made me smile.

  “Damn, Solana. You don’t live here. You know that right?”

  “Listen, I addressed you professionally.”

  “But you’re still a pain in my ass like you have been since you were born.”

  My big sister, Amaris Monroe, was the principal at Malachi’s school and she was well
aware of his circumstances. She was my only ally when it came to helping him. She was sitting across from me, shooting daggers at me with her eyes but she still loved me.

  “I have to do announcements. Wait,” she snapped. She aimed her French manicured nail at me and I held my hands up. I would behave while she did her principal thing. She already knew why I was there anyway. She just hated when I walked into her office without knocking, which I always made sure to do because I’m her little sister and it’s my right to annoy her.

  Once Amaris was finished with the announcements and the pledge and all that jazz, she cut off the PA system and looked at me incredulously. “You brought Malachi to school today?”

  “Yeah. He sent me a few texts last night saying he was lonely and he couldn’t sleep. Amaris, I couldn’t let him sleep alone knowing he was terrified. He shouldn’t have even been at home alone. I just…” I shook my head and tugged at the hem of my t-shirt. Where I’d wet it to wash Malachi’s face was dry and stiff.

  Amaris took a glance at me and the corners of her mouth turned down. “Solana, you have to be very careful with what you’re doing. Not only is it in violation of the restraining order you have against Vince but you’re breaking into this man’s house whenever Malachi calls for you. You have to be more careful.” She was right but I didn’t care. Being careful wasn’t the first thing on my mind when a child was in danger.

  Vince and I had been together for a year when he got a call to come pick up his son, Malachi, from child protective services. I didn’t know my boyfriend had a son. He never mentioned the little boy. I never saw pictures either. When I found out, I was floored. I was pissed. I was confused.

  He told me he never wanted to be a dad. So Malachi’s maternal grandmother stepped in, since her daughter was an unfit addict, and decided to raise him. She promised Vince he’d never have to look at Malachi as long as she got to take care of him. He agreed because evidently, he was a walking, talking piece of shit.

  There were no courts involved. Only Vince’s blind eye to responsibility. Never once did his stupid ass think Malachi’s grandmother would die at some point. Well, she did. It was the worst thing to ever happen to Malachi as a result.

 

‹ Prev