Into dark water

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Into dark water Page 7

by Regina Bartley


  She came back into the living room with an armload of supplies.

  “I need to take his temperature first.” She laid the things on the coffee table beside us, before turning on the thermometer. As I started to back out of her way, she reached for my hand. “Stay,” she mouthed the words in a low voice. “He wants you here.”

  I dipped my head.

  She ran the tiny thermometer across his forehead in one swift movement. It beeped indicating the number and Mom cursed loudly. “One o’ three point one.”

  “A hundred and three degrees!” I startled him with my voice and he groaned. My hand went back to his head. “What do we do?”

  “I’m going to fix you a bowl of lukewarm water. I want you to continuously pat his neck and his wrists while I run to town.”

  “You’re leaving?” I felt on the verge of a freak-out. What if things got worse? I didn’t know what to do.

  “I’m just running to town to grab some medicine.”

  “We have medicine here,” I whisper yelled.

  “He needs liquid medication, like the children kind. I’m not sure that he can swallow any pills and he needs something that will work fast that won’t be hard for him to take. I’m guessing he has the flu or something. We’ll keep an eye on his fever and if we can’t get it down then we’ll take him to the hospital,” she explained. I wanted to tell her everything that Draven had told me about going to the hospital and not being treated, but figured we’d cross that bridge when we came to it.

  I made the right decision to bring him to my home, even against my better judgment. If Mom didn’t think he was ready for the emergency room, then he wasn’t. She was a mother after all. Those were the best nurses, at least in my opinion. I only wanted my mom when I was sick, no one else.

  It made me wonder if Draven wished he had his mother. I mean if you could’ve seen the way he lived. There were few words to describe it. Yes, he had a roof over his head, but literally, that was it. The place was empty, and dirty, and thinking about it left a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. It made me feel sorry for him, which would’ve been the last thing he’d want. Mr. Independent would never admit that he needed help from anyone. Even I knew that, and this past week was the first time I’d ever really spent time with him. Seeing that apartment made me wonder what kind of life he was really living.

  Son of a bitch…

  I remembered the day that he was at my house having dinner. I remember thinking about the way he ate. Why had I not realized it? Why had I not seen that huge piece of the puzzle? I was so stupid. It was probably the only meal he’d had in weeks or longer, and we watched him eat with wide eyes wondering why he had zero manners in someone else’s house. I mean there were times that he didn’t even chew. He ate his food so fast that he could barely breathe.

  My eyes filled to the brim with tears. They rolled down my cheek as the memory flashed in front of my eyes. Selfish me was pissed that he was crabby to my parents, but hungry Draven was just eating until he was so full he couldn’t move.

  The tears continued to roll down my face as I brushed my hand across his head. I felt like a selfish, petulant child. I blew up on him because I didn’t want to tutor him anymore. Yes, he’s a major pain in my ass. But after seeing his home, and seeing him so broken and sick, I wish I hadn’t taken the easy way out.

  Mom placed the bowl of water next to me by the couch. “I’ll be right back. Do as I said,” she urged.

  I dipped the rag into the slightly cool water and rang it out. With ease, I rubbed it gently across Draven’s face, and down his cheeks. His eyes slightly parted open and I offered him a small smile letting him know that I was there.

  Over and over, I alternated wiping his face and neck, and his wrists just like Mom had told me to do. When his body shivered, I pulled the blanket from the back of the couch and covered him up. I sat down on the edge of the cushion against him, and gently placed the rag over his head. When he fully opened his bloodshot eyes and stared into mine, the tears fell hard down my cheeks. It was as if someone had opened the floodgates. His hand came up and rested against my back, where he gave me just a nudge. It was invitation to rest myself upon him. I sniffled, and his head nodded ever so lightly until I lowered my head down to his chest. My head rested right in the crook of his neck and his scruffy cheek laid softly against mine. In his time of need, he comforted me. It was a side of Draven Lepage that I’d never seen before.

  It was a side that broke every single wall I’d built.

  I lay there in his weak arms and for the first time I admitted to myself what I had been afraid of admitting all along, that somewhere deep inside my heart, there was a place for the guy who kissed me at a party, for the guy who had the worst attitude, for the guy who needed me to be by his side.

  On paper he was everything I was not, but looks can be deceiving. In his heart, he was good. I saw that now. A little lost, sure, but he wasn’t as bad as I thought he was. I fed into the rumors and didn’t bother to look farther. I was ashamed of myself for that.

  “Don’t leave me.” He whispered again. His voice was hoarse, either from sickness or lack of use over the last week, and his tone was begging. I doubted Draven had ever begged for anything in his life.

  “I won’t.”

  My stomach leaped, and my heart sped up. This was scary territory. It was a dark, mysterious lake, and I was a girl with no life jacket. Would I sink or swim?

  Draven

  She was still there.

  I could feel her breath against my neck as I let my cheek rest against hers. She was risking a whole lot being so close to me. It was likely that I had some kind of flu, and she could’ve easily caught it from me.

  But I couldn’t help myself.

  My body wouldn’t let me move much, but when I saw her crying it hurt me worse than any sickness could. I couldn’t stand to see her cry. Pulling her close to me was just instinct.

  Maybe I wasn’t the worst kind of person after all.

  Having her there with me was more than just comfort. It was relief. She felt it too, because her body relaxed into mine, and her crying slowly stopped until all I could feel was a steady breathing.

  She rose up, but remained next to me on the couch. Her leg rested against my side. She continued wiping my head and arms with the rag, until I dozed off again. The smooth strokes of the rag against my skin lured me to sleep.

  I don’t know how long I was out for, but the voice of her mother woke me up.

  “Draven,” her motherly voice caught my attention. I opened my eyes and looked up at her, letting her know that I heard her voice. “Are you allergic to anything?” She asked, with a deep-rooted concern in her tone.

  I shook my head no, although I wasn’t completely sure. There was never a time in my life when I was sick enough to take medicine, besides the occasional headache. Even if I had been sick, we could’ve never afforded a doctor visit or the medicine they’d likely give us.

  “Okay,” she replied. I’m going to give you some medicine and I need you to drink a little something. We’ve got to get some fluids in you, okay?”

  “Okay,” I answered, though my voice was rough. It felt like someone had scratched my throat with their fingernails, leaving a burning sensation down my neck.

  “Can you sit up a little?”

  I grabbed Jenny’s hand, silently asking for her help. She gripped my hand in hers and wrapped her free arm around my back helping me rise forward. I had to close my eyes a minute, to keep from getting too dizzy. I couldn’t remember a time when I’d ever felt this weak or helpless.

  Her mom poured some red liquid medicine into a cup, and held it to my lips. The taste was nasty but I swallowed it down with a wince. There was an understanding look between Mrs. Pearson and me. I wanted to say thank you, but I didn’t have to. I think she knew it. It was the first time that a mother figure had helped me in any way that I could remember, and it was taking everything inside me not to shed some tears.

  I sw
allowed back the lump in my throat, and sipped the lemon-lime tasting soda from the straw. I couldn’t drink much. My stomach was too upset, and I wasn’t thirsty.

  “That’s good for now. You need to get some rest.”

  Jenny helped lower my back to the couch so that I could lie back down, before covering me back up. There was sweat beading up on my lip, but my body still shivered.

  “You stay here with him. I’m going to make some coffee,” I heard Mrs. Pearson tell Jenny, and I was thankful. I didn’t want her going anywhere.

  She reached out her hand to feel my head, and I closed my eyes at her touch. I didn’t know how it was possible to feel pleasure with how sick I was, but I did.

  “I’m going to sit right here on the ground beside you, but I’m not going anywhere,” she told me.

  I agreed, knowing that it was a lot to ask of her to stay by my side. Though I didn’t have the strength to care about that then. I just wanted to know that she would be there when I went to sleep, and she’d remain there until I woke up.

  My eyelids grew heavy and I couldn’t fight the sleep any longer. At home, I’d have to have the static of the T.V. to help me rest. Mostly it was to keep away the haunting thoughts in my mind, but I wasn’t scared this time. She was there beside me.

  When I felt Jenny’s hand in mine, I fell fast asleep.

  Jenny

  It was a long, long night. I’d barely slept, except the couple of times I’d dozed off. Sometime around three a.m. Mom checked his temperature again, and found that it had gone done a couple of degrees. She told me not to worry, that he was going to be okay.

  What a relief.

  He was still a very sick guy, but his fever wasn’t in that dangerously high category anymore. Probably with a lot of rest, he’d be better soon, or at least well enough to go home.

  I didn’t know which was scarier -watching him through this sickness, or sending him home to that apartment. There had to be something we could do. It wasn’t right for him to be there by himself.

  It was around six o’ clock Saturday morning when I finally moved away from my rooted spot on the floor next to him. I had to stretch, and I was in serious need of a shower and some coffee. Mom agreed to sit next to him for a bit while I stepped away. He didn’t want to be left alone, and I made sure that he wasn’t.

  Inside the upstairs bathroom, I stripped down in front of the mirror. My reflection was tired. I looked absolutely exhausted. The few hours of sleep that I actually got were spent on the ground propped up against the couch. My neck felt cramped, and my shoulder was achy. It was a crappy nights rest, if you could even call it rest.

  After the quickest shower in history, I threw on a pair of leggings and an old tee shirt before slipping my hair into a knot on the top of my head. It certainly wasn’t the best I’d ever looked, but my eyes seemed a little more alive. Plus I smelled better. There wasn’t time for me to scrutinize the whole package in the mirror. My face was clean, my clothes were clean, and my ass was clean. That’s the best it was going to be.

  I tiptoed down the steps, and Mom eyed me from the spot on the living room floor. Nodding my head toward the kitchen, she followed me in.

  My toes had barely hit the tiled floor when she pulled me in for a hug. My Mom and I were nearly the same height, so I easily rested my head on her shoulder.

  “I’m very proud of you for being there for your friend,” she said. “Despite what people would think of you.”

  I pulled back from her, and looked her in the eyes. “You knew this whole time?”

  “Oh honey,” she smirked with a nod of her head. “Momma’s know everything. I know you hate having any attention on you. I know that you and Lola spend every waking minute avoiding social situations that would involve unnecessary talks about you guys.” She was right. “You think that because we are a tiny little town that we have nothing here but gossip and lies. But I’ve been trying to tell you for years that it doesn’t matter where you grow up. Every town has gossip and lies, no matter how big or small. You can’t live your life in the shadows, honey. Not when you were born to stand out.”

  “I’m not.” I paused. “I wasn’t born to stand out.” Far from it actually.

  “You’re a beautiful girl Jenny. You may not realize it, but someday you will. People are talking about you. It doesn’t matter if you’re sitting in that corner booth or in the back of the library. Somewhere, somebody has something to say about you. Having your nose in a book doesn’t change it, it just makes you oblivious to it,” she told me with that look on her face. The look that meant she was serious. “You don’t want to look back on your life and regret that you missed out on so much. Do you?”

  I shook my head no.

  My Mother was the wisest woman on the planet.

  “So, this whole tutoring thing with Draven?” I questioned.

  “You wouldn’t ever take my advice, so I agreed on your behalf.” She smiled. “I just wanted you to take a chance. Try something new, you know? It lasted longer than I thought it would.”

  I narrowed my eyes at her. “Oh your little plan worked. But now I have much bigger fish to fry.”

  “Why?” Mom asked.

  I had to tell her.

  I walked over to the coffee pot, to start the coffee first. “When I went to Draven’s last night, I wasn’t really quite sure what I was going to say when I got there. I wanted to apologize for this whole fight we’d gotten into and I wanted to try and convince him to come back to school so he could graduate. That was my plan, I guess. But Mom,” I said to her. “It was bad.” Tears formed in my eyes when I tried to tell her. “There was nothing in that apartment. There was no food, no laundry, and I’m not even sure there was running water. He had a couch that looked like it was falling apart, and an old T.V. that was nothing but static. There were these brown looking sheets over his window. It smelled dirty. It was bad Mom.” I explained.

  She pulled me close to her. “We’ll figure something out, okay? Don’t you worry.”

  “He can’t live in that place like that.”

  “We’ll figure it out. I promise.” She rubbed the tops of my arms. “I am proud of you, you know?”

  “I know.” I sighed. “But I’m scared shitless.” I told her.

  “Jenny,” she laughed.

  Mom wasn’t used to hearing me curse, but if I was being honest, then that was exactly how I felt.

  A loud moan came from the living room, and I rushed back to Draven’s side in a flash.

  “I’m right here.” I told him.

  His eyes opened and he gave me a small smile. It wasn’t your average smile. It was his smile; the one that made you want to smack him in the face. Only half his lips turned up, like he was up to something. That was his smile. It really used to piss me off when he did it, but it was a relief this time. He was obviously feeling a little better.

  I felt his head, and it was still pretty warm.

  “I think you still have some fever. Let me have Mom get you some more medicine,” I told him. I yelled for her in the kitchen. “Can you measure him out some more medicine?” I asked her.

  “Sure,” she replied. “You’re looking a little better.” She gave him a warm smile.

  Sitting next to him on the couch, I helped him sit up. His body shook as he leaned forward. He was still so weak. I didn’t realize just how small he was either. He had a tiny frame, and I could feel the bones in his back where my hand rested.

  Mom gave him his medicine and he stayed sitting up on the couch. It was like he was trying to steady himself so that he wouldn’t have to lie back down.

  “Is there any way I can shower or wash up?” He asked me, and I looked at Mom. She was the wellness master and I wasn’t sure what the bathing protocol would require. There was no way I was sponge bathing him. My mouth turned up in a grin just thinking about it. Sure, I liked the guy, but I wasn’t ready for that kind of one on one treatment just yet.

  “Steve is gone to work this morning, so you co
uld use our bathroom to wash up. We can help you get there, but are you strong enough?” Mom asked him.

  “I don’t know. But I feel like some soap and water might do me some good.”

  I was surprised at his words. It was the most he’d said since I’d brought him home. It wasn’t like him to be so invasive either. I’m surprised he didn’t ask us to take him back to his place. I would’ve had to fight him on that one.

  “Try not to overdo it,” Mom told him, and I agreed. It seemed like a little too much for him. We just got his fever lowered a few hours ago.

  He nodded, and we helped him to his feet. There was unsteadiness to him, but after he stood there a minute he seemed okay.

  We walked him to the bathroom and I gave him a towel and rag. I showed him where he could find everything, and I told him to leave the door unlocked in case he fell or something. I’d just sat down on my Mom’s bed when she told me she had to run out. Something about getting Trevor to practice, and stopping by the market for a few things. Mom barely worked anymore, besides part time at the nursing home. She used to work full-time until she had kids. Since Dad took on a management position, she hadn’t really had to work. I think she just did it so that she could get out of the house a few times a week.

  She asked me if I’d be okay getting Draven back to the couch, and I told her I would be. If I could help him down a flight of stairs, then I could certainly help him back to the couch. Nine, one, one was readily available for any type of emergency.

  Mom had already done so much to help out, and Dad was fine having him here. I couldn’t ask them to do anything more. Just letting him stay with us was help enough. She stayed up half the night with me, watching over him. Despite how I sometimes felt, they really were amazing parents.

  I strummed through my phone while sitting on the bed waiting for Draven. I wasn’t sure if he was going to shower, or sink bathe. Either way, I didn’t want to be too far away in case he tumbled to the ground or passed out.

 

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