by Carian Cole
I force myself to breathe and listen as Ellie tells me more. “Our father was a drinker, and quite frankly, an abusive asshole. He was not equipped to deal with a mentally ill wife and two children. I learned at a very young age to just stay away from them both and take care of myself. When I was old enough, I worked in town and saved all my money so I could get my own place and get as far away from them as possible. And then Evan was born, and suddenly there was a baby that nobody wanted to take care of. Luckily, he was an extremely quiet baby. Too quiet, if I recall. He never cried or made any noise. He’d just lay there, in his crib or on the floor, and stare at the ceiling or out the window. Our mother would forget to feed him, sometimes for days when she was having an episode, and he wouldn’t make a sound. He’d just wait.”
“That’s horrible…” I almost scream. “That’s child abuse.”
“Yes,” she agrees. “It was. I tried to take care of him. I know it sounds terrible, but I was just a teenager and didn’t really understand the seriousness of it all. I was in denial, I guess, and didn’t really know what to do.”
I try to picture myself as a teen in the same situation. What would I have done?
“Our mother loved birds,” she continues, and my heart plummets into my stomach because I already know where this is going. I already know. “She was obsessed with them and had all different kinds that she bought or rescued. And when she was good, she took wonderful care of them, and of Evan. He was too little to understand her massive mood swings, and the erratic behavior differences, and he believed that good mom and bad mom were two different people. And she let him believe that.”
“An aunt? Did he think good mom was an aunt?” My voice shakes.
She nods with confirmation. “Yes. A wonderful, cool aunt. Evan was crazy about the birds. He was about four or five I think when he really started to spend time with the birds. He still wasn’t talking, actually, I don’t think Evan started to talk until he was almost six years old. He’d sit on the porch with the birds all day, listening to them chirp, and he’d chirp right along with them, and mimic their little songs, and he’d write in these old notebooks. One day I found him in one of the big cages with his favorite bird, chirping and writing away and I couldn’t get his attention for anything. He thought the bird was talking to him, and I think he really believed he understood what it was saying, and he told me his name wasn’t Evan, it was Blue. He was in his own world, and I knew right there, that he was screwed. Either he inherited what our mother had or she made him crazy or maybe it was both. I don’t know. I eventually moved out, and I’d go back and check on him once a week and he seemed mostly okay. He was in school, and he was dragging an old guitar around with him, and even though he was still hanging out with the birds, he wasn’t in the cage anymore. I thought he’d be okay. He was odd, and detached, but he seemed okay and not in any danger.”
“You just left a little boy in a situation like that?”
“I did, and I’ve always regretted it, but I didn’t know what to do. I was afraid of them.”
“You should have gotten him help. The state would have taken him and put him in foster care, wouldn’t they?”
“Yeah,” Reece agrees. “They would have.”
“I didn’t want him to be taken away. I know that’s selfish and I know now it was wrong, but I didn’t want him taken away. I loved him. I thought he would be okay. I thought he’d be like me and just get through it and leave when he could.”
I want to strangle this woman. I don’t care if she was just a teenager, she knew right from wrong and she should have helped her little brother—not left him with parents who couldn’t take care of him.
“Well obviously he wasn’t okay!” I say. “You were older, you should have done something.”
She nods, not breaking eye contact with me
“We can’t go back in time and change it, Piper,” Reece says softly. “Ellie’s not a bad person. She was just a kid herself.”
“I know that but—”
She cuts in. “Believe me, I’ve felt horrible about it my whole life. I tried to help him as he got older. By then, I knew he was messed up. Every time I tried to talk to him he either told me to fuck off or he acted like he didn’t know who I was. Then he moved out of the house and into the shed, and then he lived with friends and again, I thought he would be okay. Later our father took off, never to be heard from again, and our mother passed away and she left him that house and he just let it go. I lived nearby, I’d see him in town walking around with the dog all the time, and playing that guitar for money, and I’d try so hard to help him, to get him to come home with me, but I couldn’t get through to him. He would tell me he had a headache and that he had to walk from the voices and listen to the rain and the birds, and some days he seemed perfectly normal and we’d have a nice chat and play with the dog. I never knew if he was high, or sick like our mother, and I couldn’t convince him to go to a doctor. I tried many, many times. I don’t know why he chose to live on the streets like he did. He had a home, he had money, he had me. He just wanted to be alone.”
“Wait,” I interrupt. “Are you saying that house with the porch in Amherst—with the shed in the backyard—is his?”
She nods. “Yes. It’s been his for years. It’s just sitting there, falling apart. He had quite a bit of money left for him that our mother had from her own parents that she left for both of us, and as far as I know, he never touched it. I thought for sure once he got his life together, and made this amazing career for himself, that he’d either restore the house or sell it, but it’s still sitting there.”
The whole time he lived in that old dirty shed, Blue was home.
“I feel sick,” I say, putting my hands up in surrender. “I really don’t know if I can handle all this.”
Reece stands and comes over to kneel next to my chair. He puts his arms around me and holds me as I cry, and I just want to disappear. My head is swimming with confusion and fear. Is Blue really crazy? Has he been crazy the entire time I’ve known him? I just can’t believe that.
I pull away and wipe my face with a napkin Ellie hands me. “What about Lyric?” I ask, trembling. “Is this hereditary? Could she be sick?”
“No,” Reece says quickly. “No. Lyric is fine.”
He has to be right. Lyric has never acted strange. She’s intelligent, and creative, and caring, social, and completely normal.
The door to the waiting room swings open and Blue’s doctor enters.
Finally.
Chapter Fifty-Seven
I’m fuming.
Fuming.
The doctor only allowed Ellie to go in to see Blue, because she’s family. Not me—the woman who’s loved him forever and has stood by him no matter what and who’s been crying and going crazy with worry and who is the mother of his child.
“I can’t believe this,” I say to Reece as I pace the small room. “We should be in there with him. Not her. Does he even like her?”
“Maybe it’s better if he doesn’t like her.”
I stop pacing to stare at him as if he’s lost his mind. “What does that mean?”
“He’s probably not ready to see us, because he cares about us and he knows we care about him. I’d guess we’d be pretty hard for him to face. Especially you.”
God. He’s right.
Ellie isn’t gone for more than twenty minutes when she comes back to the waiting room. I practically jump on her like a starving wild animal.
“How is he? Is he all right? Is he in a lot of pain? What did he say?”
Reece touches my arm. “Piper, give her a sec.”
I am giving her a sec.
She falls into one of the chairs and sighs. “He’s a mess of casts and bandages and cuts and bruises. He looks like he went through a hurricane. It’s dreadful.”
“Oh my God…”
“But he’s going to be fine.” She grabs my hand. “He’s going to heal, maybe get a little plastic surgery for that cut on his face, b
ut he’ll be good as new, Piper. It’s going to take a while, of course, and he’s going to need some physical therapy, but his body will heal.”
“Good,” Reece says with relief, but I’m still stuck on the plastic surgery comment. How deep did he get cut? “Did he talk at all?”
“Very little. He seemed surprised to see me, which I expected. His usual attitude is still there.”
“But what did he say?” I ask impatiently.
“If you really want to know, he said he fucked this up just like he fucks everything else up.”
Reece scoffs and shakes his head. “So typical,” he says.
I’m crushed speechless. Blue actually thinks living is a failure? Does that mean he wishes he had died and still wants to die?
Why?
“He asked to see you,” Ellie says to Reece, further annihilating my heart. “You have to see the nurse before you go in, she’ll tell you what you have to take off. Like your shoelaces. And we’re not supposed to ask him questions about why he did it, or say anything to guilt him or upset him in any way.”
Confusion and heartache have me at a total loss for words as I watch Reece leave the room.
Blue must want to see me last. That’s why he asked to see Reece before me.
“You don’t want to see him like this, honey,” Ellie says. “He’s such a handsome man. You don’t want to see him all bruised and swollen and cut up, trust me. It’s not a pretty sight.”
Does she really think I wouldn’t want to see him? Has this woman ever loved a man before? “I want to see him no matter what, Ellie. I just want to tell him I love him and I’m here for him. I want to tell him we’ll get through this together, so he knows he’s not alone in this anymore.”
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Oops.
I fucked that jump up hardcore.
At the time it seemed right. Quick. Easy. Painless. The perfect tragic and messy ending. The bird was talking to me again. He hadn’t for a while, but then he showed up—when I was exhausted and strung out on uppers and downers and all-arounders. He sat on my shoulder and watched me read all the comments online about what a coward I am. How I’ve wrecked the band. How the fans hate me. How pathetic I am.
I was a fool to think life was going good. Was I really stupid enough to think I could just leave the band, marry my girl, escape everything, and live happily ever after?
I shoulda known I couldn’t go quietly.
Then the bird started.
It’s time to end the madness, Blue.
It’s way overdue.
You can’t escape. They won’t let you.
You don’t have to hurt anymore.
Nobody loves you. I do, though.
Everyone else hates you. You’re a disappointment. A quitter. A freak.
Piper and Lyric will be embarrassed of you. You’ll be a has-been.
Remember when it was just you and me? Remember how good it was?
Come up here. Near the trees. You can fly!
You can be free!
And here I am, all fucked up, numbed out on approved medication. Another failure to add to my list of many. I feel sick and cut open like someone put a window in me and they’re all looking inside—seeing the river of disease in my veins. Everyone knows my secrets now.
I sorta feel relieved—for the same reason. Because everyone knows the real me now.
I don’t have to hide anymore. It’s been exhausting.
They’ll take care of me now. They’ll let me rest. Maybe they can make it all stop.
Is that even possible? To make it all stop?
Reece is standing near the door, the next in line after the sister I barely know. I laugh at how she calls herself family. Like that title gives her special privileges. I remember you, Ellie. I watched you leave.
I force myself to stop laughing, because judgmental eyes are everywhere.
“You look like shit,” I tell Reece.
He smirks. “So do you.”
“Turns out I can’t fly.”
“Did you think you could?” he asks, sitting in the chair next to the bed. He’s not wearing shoes and his feet look strangely comforting here in soft white socks.
“The bird said I could. He said I could fly out of this world and get away from all the shit that hurts.”
“We’ve talked about the bird before. You know he’s not real.”
“I know. But this time, he seemed really real.”
He nods like this is normal and I’m not a level-ten lunatic. That’s what best friends do.
“Why didn’t you talk to me? Haven’t I always helped you? You know you can talk to me.”
“I don’t know. I thought I was okay.”
“You’re going to get some help now, Ev.”
I nod and a pain shoots up the back of my skull and radiates to my forehead. I blink away the stars that scatter in my vision.
“Piper wants to see you.”
This time the pain knifes through my chest like a dagger straight to my heart.
“No.”
“She’s really upset. I think you should just let her see you for a minute, so she can see for herself that you’re okay.”
“No. I don’t want her seeing me like this.” I turn away from him and pain sears through my entire body. My brain hurts.
My heart hurts.
“C’mon, Blue. Don’t do this to her.”
The guard in the corner throws Reece a warning look.
Don’t poke the crazy person. He might jump out the window.
I take a deep breath and my ribs scream in agony.
Every bit of pain well deserved.
“Will you give her a message for me? Since I’m not allowed to use a pen or pencil to write?”
“Yeah. Of course.”
“Tell her I want her to go home.”
“Blue…” He closes his eyes, but not before I catch the disappointment shadowing them, and he slowly shakes his head. “Don’t do this.”
“Tell her I love her and Lyric, but my head is way too fucked with fuckedupness.”
He glares at me like I’m an unruly brat. “Do you think she doesn’t already know that? She doesn’t care if your head is fucked. She loves you. Plain and simple. You need her now more than ever. Don’t fuckin’ push her away.”
“I don’t want to see her.”
No way can I see the pain in her eyes from what I’ve done to her. The jump didn’t kill me, but seeing what I’ve done to her will make me want to try it again, do it right this time, just to escape the unbearable guilt that’s eating at me like maggots. I never thought I’d have to face the people I left behind and have to witness their pain and confusion up close and personal. The bird didn’t tell me that, that little fuck. Like Reece with his dark analyzing eyes and his disappointed scowl. And Ellie with her ‘I saw this coming’ face. I don’t need to see Piper to know what I’ll see in her. Heartache. Betrayal. Utter fear. Denial. Love’s regret.
All because of me.
My little elf-like fiancée will spend days searching the internet and will transform herself into a nurse and psychotherapist in less than a week. She’ll make it her life’s goal to try to help me and I can’t let her do that. I love her too much to put her through all that. I can’t let her lose herself trying to find me.
All I’ve ever wanted since the day I met her is to be a real man to her. Someone who could take care of her. But that’s never been the way it is.
She’s already fixed me as much as she possibly can. More than I thought she ever could. She’s the glue that held all my jagged cracks together, and I love her endlessly for it. Unfortunately, I’ve always known that eventually I’d break myself all over again and she’d be left with nothing but pieces.
Chapter Fifty-Nine
Ditra is waiting for me at the airport. As soon as she puts her arms around me in the baggage claim area, I start crying uncontrollably. Again.
I had a total breakdown when Reece told me Blue didn’t want to see
me. I jumped on the nearest elevator, ran down the hallway, and tried to get past the six-foot-three guard standing watch in front of Blue’s private room. The guard literally picked me up with one hand and carried me, crying, screaming, and begging, to the nurses’ station.
I could have easily been mistaken for an escaped patient myself. It was that bad. I trembled uncontrollably. My teeth chattered. My heart pounded and raced dangerously fast. My legs wobbled, my head became light, and I started to hyperventilate as Reece tried to gently guide me back to the elevator. Just as the doors opened, I collapsed, and I woke up some time later in a room of my own. I was diagnosed with a major panic attack episode, pumped full of sedatives for three days, had a visit with a psychiatrist, and was released with a prescription for anxiety meds.
After all that, I still wasn’t allowed to see Blue. A part of me was hoping Reece would tell him that I’d become unhinged and he would want to comfort me. Of course the rational side of my brain understood Reece couldn’t tell him, but it didn’t change the fact that I was scared and heartbroken and just wanted the man I love to show me that he was still alive and still loved me. I desperately needed him to take all the anger, fear, and heartache away.
Instead I ended up like him, lying in a bed wishing I could escape it all and just go to sleep forever. Fortunately, I snapped out of it within seventy-two hours.
Blue didn’t.
Reece made my flight arrangements. Ellie made Blue’s transfer arrangements.
And here I am, back in New Hampshire, crying at the airport.
Once upon a time, I only cried watching Titanic and other sad movies. What happened to that girl?
“It’s okay,” Ditra soothes, stroking my hair. I wish I could believe her, but I don’t think anything is okay and it might never be.
As much as I missed Lyric, I’m glad Ditra didn’t bring her to the airport to pick me up. I’m sure she knew I’d be a mess and would need some time to pull myself together once I stepped off the plane.
