“I won’t bring her home too late, Mr. Jones.”
Dad looks between us, and I can see how hard this is for him. He’s struggling with letting me go. I suppose it would be difficult. He woke up one morning, went to work like any other day. His daughter went to school. Then he heard on the radio there’d been a shooting. A boy we’ve known for many years walked into class and shot his daughter’s teacher. Anything can happen, anywhere, any time; nothing and no one is safe.
“I’ll meet you out at the car,” I say to Tobias.
“Okay.” He gives Dad a smile before backing out and leaving the house.
“Are you okay, Dad?”
“I’ll be fine, but promise you’ll stay safe, wherever you go.”
“I will.”
“And stay by Tobias.”
I know he’s concerned. “I promise, Dad, I will.”
“Please come home to me.” He grabs me and hugs me tight against his body. “I can’t lose you too,” he whispers with a broken voice.
“You won’t.” I hug him back. A terrible rush of emotions must be going through Dad. So, I’ll make sure to send him a couple of text messages to ease his worry. “Love you.”
“With all my heart,” Dad responds. He finally lets me go, and I walk out to Tobias who’s sitting in the idling car.
“Everything okay?” Tobias juts his chin out indicating Dad.
“Yeah, he’s worried.”
“He doesn’t like me much anymore. He’s concerned about me.” Tobias reverses out of the driveway but manages a peek at me sideways.
“Actually, no. He’s worried about my safety. He’s already lost Mom, and he doesn’t want to lose me too. He told me to stay close to you. He knows you’ll protect me.”
Silence cloaks the inside of the car, and suddenly I begin to feel uncomfortable. Tobias hasn’t responded, and this makes me think maybe he’d never protect me again.
“He’s right. No matter if we’re together or not, I’ll always make sure you’re safe.”
“Why?” I ask with curiosity. “Why would you protect me if we break up?”
“Because I love you. I don’t think I can ever stop loving you.”
That awkward silence returns. This is now the third time he’s told me he loves me, and I don’t know how to respond. So, instead of ruining the chance of what can be, I choose to remain quiet and not say anything.
Tobias leans over and turns the radio on, Johnny Cash plays in the background and I scrunch my nose at the choice of music. “Seriously? Johnny Cash?”
“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with a great like Johnny Cash. Or Elvis Presley. Or even Dolly Parton.” I turn my head in record speed and stare at Tobias. He glances at me and breaks out into a laugh. “The look on your face.”
“Dolly Parton?”
“Oh come on, tell me you don’t love ‘Jolene.’”
“What decade do you come from? Have you traveled here in your time machine? If so, does it have enough gas to take you back to the early nineteen-hundreds?”
“Are you kidding me? You telling me you don’t love old music?”
“You telling me you do?” I shoot back.
“Clara listens to the greats, she always has. You know how families will turn the TV on and everyone congregates around it? Clara turns on the radio and tells me if I put the TV on she’ll chop my fingers off. We used to play board and card games all while the music was going on in the background. I suppose I like it because it’s what I grew up with.”
“I like that.”
“Which part?”
“All of it. I think Clara and your mom have done an amazing job raising you. You’re like an old man in a young body.”
Tobias slowly turns his head to look at me, his mouth is turned down into a scowl, his brows drawn together. “An old man in a young body? That’s the best you can come up with?”
“I meant it as a compliment. You know, you have old-fashioned values. People usually don’t. They’re all about themselves, whereas you’re not. I like that.”
He nods his head and reaches over to take my hand. We entwine our fingers as he drives along.
“I like it when we’re like this,” he says after a moment. “We’re good together.”
We still need to have a difficult conversation, so we’ll see how good we are together after that. I don’t want to lead him on and for him to think everything is fine, because everything is not.
“Where are we headed?” I ask as he heads into a neighboring county.
“iHop. Thought some pancakes might soothe the soul.”
“Mmm, pancakes. I can’t remember the last time I’ve had pancakes.”
“Mom used to make them all the time for Sunday breakfast, but she stopped a few years ago.”
“Wow,” I say as I gaze out the front window. “It really sounds like you have the perfect all-American family.”
“I do. Mom and Clara are perfect.” I like how he holds his mom and Clara in such high regard. It means a lot to me. He has such strong values. It only takes three more Johnny Cash songs to arrive at iHop. Tobias pulls into a parking spot and we both head inside. “Hi, we’d like a quiet booth please,” Tobias says to the host before he has a chance to greet us.
“This way,” he announces as he holds two menus and leads us toward the back of the restaurant. He stops in front of the most isolated booth I’ve ever seen. There are people at the front, and to the sides, but no one is in this section. “Your server will be with you soon.” He waits until we’re both in the booth, hands us the menus and leaves.
My heart races and I begin to stress. What if, after tonight, Tobias is no longer in my life? What if we’re really not meant to be together? Every bad possibility enters my head, and it’s freaking me out.
The waitress brings us some water, then asks if we know what we’d like. I order my pancakes, bacon, and a side of hash browns, and Tobias orders the same. She leaves, and Tobias and I are left in an awkward silence.
“How are you doing?” he finally asks while playing with my fingers.
“I’m okay. How about you?”
“I miss you, Ivy. And I want us to move ahead beyond what’s stopped us.” He looks me straight in the eyes, and I know he means the words he’s spoken.
“I miss you too. But we have to talk about this. I pushed you in the hospital because I was trying to understand you. Your walls went up and you tried to deflect. I was honest with you, Tobias, and you weren’t honest with me.”
“I was honest.”
Clenching my jaw, I shake my head and quickly move my hands from his. “Really? You were honest with me? You clammed up and were dancing around in circles. That’s not being honest with me. That’s skating on the verge of being dishonest because the fact is, you were trying your hardest not to answer anything. That’s lying by omission.”
“I wasn’t lying.” He rakes his hand through his hair and glances away. “It’s just that what I have to say is bigger than just me.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s not just me this involves, it involves a lot of people.”
“What are you, in the witness protection program?”
“Not exactly.”
Huh? “You’re not under witness protection,” I say. It’s not a question, but I’m confused.
“No, not exactly. Look, if it’s important for you to know, then I have to speak to Mom and Clara. And then, if they agree, I promise I’ll tell you everything.”
“Why do you have to talk to them?”
“Because they’re involved. And I’ve promised them if I ever want to tell someone, I’ll ask them first.”
“But why?” I push.
“I need to protect them. Please understand.” I’m angry at his response. Everything inside tells me to walk away and never look back. “It’s the best I can do right now. But I promise, I’ll tell you once I talk to them.”
“This isn’t how I was expecting tonight to go. I wanted some answers ab
out what’s going on. If it’s important to you, why haven’t you talked to them already?”
“I really wasn’t sure how tonight was going to go. I was hoping tonight we could just enjoy each other’s company. And if, after tonight, you’re willing to give me a chance, I’ll have the conversation with them, regardless of how difficult it’ll be.”
“How are we supposed to enjoy ourselves when you insist on keeping secrets?”
“Please, don’t say that. I’m not keeping secrets, I just need to talk to Clara and Mom first. Can’t you see, they’re the ones who…” He stops himself before he says something he shouldn’t.
“The ones who what?”
Tobias lowers his chin and takes a deep breath. With his head still lowered, in a small voice he replies, “The ones who’ll need to pick up the pieces when you leave me.”
“Jesus, what can be so bad?”
He lifts his gaze to me. “Just give me some time, Ivy. That’s all I’m asking, a few days, a week at most.” His fingers run over his tattoo, tracing it absentmindedly. “Please,” he begs.
“Okay, I’ll give you some time.”
“Thank you,” he whispers.
“Here are your meals. Anything else I can get for you?” the server asks as she places the plates down in front of us.
“No, thank you,” I answer. And Tobias shakes his head.
“Excuse me?” I look up and to my side where an older woman stands beside me with an older man standing beside her. “I’m sorry to interrupt your dinner, but aren’t you the girl from that shooting?”
My throat tightens as I struggle to form a cohesive sentence. I nod without saying anything.
“My husband and I want to say that we read in the papers what happened at your school. We saw your picture and read about what you did. We’re so proud of you.” She pats me on the shoulder.
I try to smile, but I know it’s rigid. “Thank you,” I answer stiffly.
“We just had to tell you how proud we are of you for rushing over to help that poor teacher.”
“Mrs. Richards,” I say.
“Sorry, dear?”
“The teacher’s name is… was Mrs. Richards.”
The woman steps back and I think she can see how uncomfortable I am with her. “Well, enjoy your dinner.” She feigns a smile. Maybe she’s embarrassed, or maybe she thinks I’m rude. Either way, I just want her to leave me alone. What I did was not heroic, and no one should be praising me for it.
As soon as she leaves, I begin to ring my hands together nervously. I can’t get my mind right, the woman had good intentions, but I’m sure she wouldn’t know how much hurt and anguish she’s stirred up inside me.
“You okay?” Tobias asks.
I take a moment to get myself back into a safe headspace. Clutching my fork, I start picking at the pancakes. “I’m okay.”
“Then what is it?”
“I know she said she was proud of me, but I don’t feel I deserve it. I don’t feel like anyone should be telling me they’re proud of me. I let down everyone.”
“You have to stop beating yourself up over something you had no control over. It’s going to consume you, rip you apart. You’ll never be able to move on.”
“I’m not going back to school. I’m transferring,” I spring on Tobias. “I can’t go back there. It’s too hard.”
“Where are you going, and when do you start?”
“I’m transferring to Lakewood High, and I’ll go when I’m ready.”
“Why didn’t you tell me? I’ll transfer too.”
“Don’t transfer because of me. We don’t have that much time left in school, and soon we’ll be going to college. Sacramento State, here I come.” I pretend to be happy as I let out a small cheer.
“Is that where you’re going?”
I nod my head to Tobias. “I’ve applied and hopefully they’ll want me. What about you?”
“Stanford or UCLA.”
“What’s your major going to be?”
“Psychology.”
“Right. That makes sense.”
“What does?”
“The way you’ve been with me. All the doctor talk. You want to be a psychologist.”
“Yeah. Hopefully.”
“Why? What makes you want to be a psychologist?”
Tobias chews, but I notice he’s slowing down, he must be thinking about his reply. “Our life isn’t always predetermined, and sometimes things happen that makes us re-evaluate it. When I was really small, I wanted to be a police officer. But life happens, and I changed my mind. I still want to help people, just in a different way. Because once trauma happens, there aren’t a lot of people there to help you pick up the pieces. I mean, it’s getting better. Mental health awareness is reducing the stigma, but it’s not nearly where it should be.”
“You want to be an advocate for mental health.”
“I’m an advocate for personal health. And being broken doesn’t mean you can’t be fixed.”
“That’s why you were pushing me in the hospital.” He stares down at his food and nods. “What happened to you, Tobias?”
“You promised me a week. Then I’ll tell you everything.” He stops eating and stares distantly at his food.
Ivy, he’s not going to tell you, my demon whispers cynically in my ear.
Not now, please go away.
Why has he decided to show up after weeks of remaining quiet?
“You done?” Tobias asks.
“Yeah, I am. Can you take me home?” I ask.
Tonight hasn’t gone the way I wanted it to. I wanted answers, but instead the monster showed himself. I feel myself being pushed further into isolation and hopelessness.
Darkness is waiting close by.
Nothing was resolved tonight, and my heart is teetering on the edge of breaking.
Standing in the lake, I look down and wiggle my toes. My bare feet are in the water, and my white dress floats around me. The water rises rapidly, like I’m standing in a giant bath tub.
“Dad,” I scream. He waves to me from the shore as I flail my arms for him to come help me. “Help!”
He doesn’t come to help me, instead he waves to me.
I try and move my feet, but they’re so heavy and I can’t lift them. “Dad!” I yell again.
As he’s standing on the shore watching me, his entire body morphs into that of a little girl. Her dirty blonde hair hangs around her face as she clutches a stuffed toy to her chest. “Help,” I yell to her.
But she doesn’t move. She stands in the same spot watching me. “Mommy,” she calls and waves to me.
Who is this little girl? She called me ‘mommy.’ Am I her mother? “Help,” I try to call again, but the water is now lapping around my chin and I can barely keep my head above as it rapidly rises.
It’s a strange feeling. I’m drowning; I know it. But as the water briskly rises, it’s calm. The water is peacefully sweeping me under.
I lift my arm to wave to the little girl, but the weight of the water makes it too heavy to move.
“Mommy,” she screams. This time her voice is filled with fright.
I gurgle as the water starts filling my mouth. I spit it out, but more is ready to rush in.
Suddenly, I’m on the shore, kneeling down and looking at a woman who appears to be me. She’s sputtering and breathing shallowly. “Always listen to your daddy,” she says to me.
“Ivy, move!” Dad effortlessly lifts me and places me to my feet away from the body.
“Love her, forever,” the woman says to Dad. Her eyes glass over, and she stops breathing.
“Mrs. Richards!” I cry as I sit up in bed and gasp for breath.
The room is dark, and only the light of the stars shines in. A gentle breeze makes the tree branches tap on the window.
Puffing, I try and regulate my erratic heartbeat. My heart feels like it’s shivering inside my chest. Tremors rip through me from the frightful memory of Mrs. Richards’s eyes.
I get up out of bed and pace back and forth for a moment. I can’t see anything else but her eyes. The way they glazed over. Something is familiar about them, but also distant.
The branch lightly knocks on the window again, and this time it drags me away from the vision. Slowly, I make my way over to the window and sit on the seat beneath it.
The stars are calling me tonight; they want to talk to me. Or perhaps they’re wanting me to talk to them.
“Why Mrs. Richards?” I ask.
They twinkle with fervor, as if they’re desperate for me to know something.
But a tightness knots in my stomach at the same time. I know Azael is near, waiting to strike. I’m anticipating his appearance, but I’m hoping he stays hidden.
He’s lurking. Watching. Stalking.
The soft howl of the gentle wind snaps me back to the flickering stars.
“Will you tell me a secret?” I ask as I bring my knees up and wrap my arms around them, hugging them close to me.
They sparkle brighter. Yes, they whisper.
“Why did I see Mrs. Richards in my dream? Why were her eyes so memorable?”
I watch as they twinkle almost in a perfect dance. It brings a small smile to my lips as they continue their hypnotic choreography. They’re perfect in all their brightness.
Aren’t stars interesting things? Even when we can’t see them, they’re still there, guiding and telling us how tomorrow, life will go on, but we need to have faith in the right now.
“Do you watch out for me?” I ask them.
If there was someone standing at my door observing me, they’d think I’m completely mad. But talking to the stars calms me, and I suspect their tranquility gives other people hope too.
The moon is always majestic and cold, but the stars are loyal. They take a back seat to the moon, never upstaging it, but always enhancing it.
“I like you,” I say to them.
They wink at me, and it makes my smiler grow wider.
Taking a breath, I glimpse away from them for a moment, and when I return my gaze, I ask them the same question. “Why were her eyes so familiar?”
A pall falls over them, like they don’t want to tell me the truth.
“It’s okay. One day I’ll figure it out.”
I imagine they give me a noble nod, happy that I’ve accepted their silence for now.
Drowning Page 18
