Going the Distance
Page 27
“I won’t. I promise.” Salem closes the curtain behind her.
I look around the small observation room and begin to wonder if this is where they brought Jase. How long had he been lying there in his own vomit before I found him? If he was found sooner, could they have saved him? Were they able to bring him back at all, or was it already too late for him? I try my damnedest to get these thoughts out of my head, but they just keep creeping back.
“My mother should be here in five minutes,” Salem says when she returns.
I sit up and throw my legs over the side of the bed. “Say, I can’t be here. I need to leave.”
She rushes to my side, “What’s the matter?”
My eyes are darting around the confined space. “It’s this place. I just, can’t…”
Salem cups my face, bringing my attention back to her. “Okay,” she’s very composed as she looks directly into my eyes, “we’ll get you out of here. But I need you to calm down and take a deep breath.”
As I close my eyes, I feel my jaw clenching up. I force myself to inhale through my nose, then let out a choppy breath.
Salem leans her forehead onto mine, “Do it again, Gabriel. No more passing out on me.” I can hear a smile in her voice.
“I guess I’m not the big, tough fighter I thought I was,” I chuckle.
Climbing up onto my lap, she reassures me, “I don’t need a big, tough fighter. I just need you.”
My head begins to swirl as her scent overtakes me. “Thank you,” I let out.
She pushes me back onto the bed. “I told you, there’s no reason to thank me, Gabriel.”
“Christ, you’re givin’ me a stiffy.”
She rolls her hips in response, “Am I?”
I lick my lips, “Uh-huh.”
“Well, what are we gonna do about that?” she asks hungrily as her eyes glance down my body.
“Salem Marie Harris! Is that any way to conduct yourself in public?”
We jump at the sound of her mother’s voice.
“I raised you better than this.”
Salem looks over her shoulder. “I would hardly call this a public place, Mother. No one can see in here, and I’m not going to apologize for my behavior.”
“He’s free to go,” her mother says coldly and then exits through the curtain.
“Mom! Mom!” Salem calls out as she carefully climbs off the bed.
The curtain opens briskly, “You need to lower your voice, Salem. You’re in my place of employment.”
They’re now standing face to face. “Well, you left before I could get a word in.”
“There is nothing you have to say that’s going to change my mind about you and him,” her cold, disapproving eyes glance over at me.
“That’s fine, Mother. I don’t need you to accept him nor do I need your approval. The man you wanted me to marry cheated on me and nearly raped me!”
“Salem, that’s not fair.”
Salem’s voice begins to rise, “Fair? Fair?! Please, Mother, even after he attacked me you didn’t want to believe it. You tried to keep me quiet. You’re always so worried about what other people will think, that you actually let people think your own daughter made up that story.”
Her mother’s frame stiffens at Salem’s words.
“And you say you raised me better than that! I would think you’d want me to be happy, to marry a man that I love and that loves me.” Salem begins to laugh, “I should’ve known better; you and Daddy are all about appearances. When’s the last time you two actually held hands, kissed or slept in the same room?”
“Don’t try to turn this around on me, young lady.”
Salem straightens her posture. “I’m not turning anything around. I’m stating the facts of your marriage, Mother,” she spits the icy words in her mother’s face.
“I’m not sure what has come over you, Salem, but this behavior is very unbecoming. A young, successful lawyer would never act in such a way. Obviously, it’s the company you’ve been keeping.”
I can feel my cheeks begin to burn as her mother shoots me a dirty look from across the room. “Maybe I should give you two some privacy,” I try to interrupt.
Salem takes a few steps back and reaches for my hand. “No, Gabriel, I want you here. In the short time that I’ve known you, you’ve been one of the only people in my life that has encouraged me to do what I want and be exactly who I am.”
“Salem, that’s not true,” her mother says softly.
Salem turns her attention back toward her mother. “Maybe I’m sick of being your perfect child, blindly following the plans that you and Daddy set for me. What would you say if I told you I’m not going into corporate law and that I’m looking to move out of this area?”
I watch as her mother’s face drops. “What did you do, Salem?”
“I never had any intentions of following in Daddy’s footsteps, going and working for his firm. That’s what you and he wanted, not me. Did you ever even think to ask me what I wanted to do?”
Reaching out to console her daughter, her mother confesses, “Salem, I’m so sorry. I never knew that’s how you felt.”
“How would you? You’re both too concerned about what your friends and colleagues think and not about what your own daughter actually wants to do with her life.” The anger has lessened in Salem’s voice and there’s now a hint of sadness.
“I never wanted you to follow either of our footsteps, Salem. I’m so sorry. I wish I was half the woman you are.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Why don’t the two of us go into my office so we can discuss this privately?”
“No, whatever you have to say, you can say in front of Gabriel. Whether you like it or not, he’s my future.”
“Salem, it’s fine. It’s obvious you two need to talk,” my eyes skirt to her mother, whose glare has relaxed some. Honestly, I’m glad for the distraction.
“No,” she responds adamantly and takes a seat on my bed.
“God, you’re stubborn,” her mother mutters, pulling up a chair and sitting directly in front of Salem.
“I am my mother’s daughter,” Salem says snidely.
“That you are,” giving her daughter a satisfied smile.
“We don’t have all night, Mother, and Gabriel’s had a horrible evening already.” She looks at me apologetically, but I smile and mouth “It’s okay.”
Tilting her head back, Dr. Nelson looks up at the ceiling momentarily. “This isn’t easy to admit to you.”
“What is it?” Salem squeezes my hand tightly in anticipation of what her mother has to say.
“A very long time ago, I was in love with a man; one your grandparents didn’t approve of. He wasn’t what they ever envisioned me marrying.”
“Hmmm, sounds familiar.”
“Let her finish, Say,” I whisper.
“I would lie to my parents, tell them I was spending time with my friends, and I would sneak out of the house at night to see him. Eventually, I was caught and was forbidden to see him again. I told my parents nothing would keep us apart and finally, one night, we ran off. We had nothing but the clothes on our backs and my car. But that’s all I needed, as long as I was with him. After a few weeks, the money in my bank account ran out and we were sleeping in my car. I had no skills. I’d been catered to my entire life and was beginning to realize I’d bitten off more than I could chew. Not to mention that I had become violently ill with what I thought was a relentless stomach bug.”
I can feel Salem trembling and her hand is squeezing mine so tightly that I think I may be losing circulation.
“One morning, I woke up and he was gone. At first, I thought he had gone out to get us some food from one of the local soup kitchens, but as minutes turned into hours, I realized he had left me.” Her eyes begin to fill with tears. “I’d given up my entire life for him and he just left me with nothing, not a note or explanation. I had no other option but to return home with my tail between my legs. At firs
t, my parents didn’t want to take me back. I had defied them. But when my illness continued, my mother began to realize what was wrong. I wasn’t sick; I was pregnant.”
“Oh… my… God! Daddy isn’t my real father?” Salem manages to squeak out before she begins to cry.
“Salem, I never wanted you to know,” the tears in her eyes spill over. “Your father was a family friend. He and I had dated back in high school and he’d been madly in love with me. Yet, I didn’t feel the same way. When my mother told his mother, he’d overheard the conversation. He rushed to my house and said he’d marry me and that no one would ever know. I was alone and confused. I figured if he was willing to take on another man’s child, then he really must love me. I did everything I could to be the perfect wife. Eventually, over time, I grew to love your father, but I’ve never been in love with him. And, that’s what breaks his heart the most; his wife still pines over a man who left her alone and pregnant.”
“My entire life has been a lie,” Salem rasps in an uncertain tone, staring off into the corner of the room.
“No, Salem,” she tries to console her shocked and clearly distraught daughter. “Your father loves you like you were his own. It would break his heart even more if he ever knew that you knew the truth.”
Breaking her stare, Salem finally looks at her mother, tears streaming down her face. “So, now you expect me to lie?”
“No, I expect you to treat your father like you always have. Nothing is ever going to change the bond you have with him. Just because he’s not your biological father, doesn’t mean he’s not your father.”
I lean in, putting my hands around Salem’s waist, hugging her gently. “She’s right, you know. My father was a complete waste of a life. I see Frankie as my dad.”
She turns her head toward me, her chin quivering as she nods her head.
“It’s only DNA, Say, nothin’ more.”
Below the Belt – Below the belt is an imaginary line from the belly button to the top of the hips where a boxer is not supposed to hit. To hit below the belt is to not behave according to the rules or decency.
Ten long, tortuous days have gone by since I found Jase with that needle in his arm. Not a minute passes that I don’t wish it was me instead of him. He could’ve done so much with his life, if only he could have kept the demons at bay. As I walk up to the window, the first thing I notice is the thick glass separating the visitors from the guard. I’m nervous; my stomach is queasy and I can’t seem to clear the large pit that’s formed in my throat. I stand quietly, reading the signs taped to the window. One is about contraband, another states the rules of conduct, and the last one is about recording devices. “Name, please?” the guard on the other side asks me without even looking up.
“Gabriel Vega. I’m here to see Josue Vega.”
Pointing to the clipboard on the ledge, she instructs, “Please sign in. I’ll need to make a copy of your photo ID, and after you sign in, you can take a seat. Visiting hours will begin shortly.”
“Thank you.”
Ten minutes later, I enter the spacious visiting room. I see children running to men, who I assume are their fathers, along with mothers, wives, and/or girlfriends embracing their loved ones. Some of them are crying tears of sadness while others are crying tears of joy. I, on the other hand, feel nothing but dread. Not since the day I saw my father taken away in handcuffs at the courthouse, have I ever wanted to see him again. Even when he was in my life, he was never a father to me. Yet, here I am, sitting in the county jail waiting for him to appear.
I notice a man entering the room, and as he makes his way across the floor, there’s no mistaking it’s my father; I’m his spitting image. He’s dressed just like the rest of the inmates in denim pants and a matching shirt. As I give him the once-over, I note that both his hair, what’s left of it, and his goatee are almost pure grey. I observe him curiously looking around the room, taking in his surroundings as if he’s never been in here before. The fucker’s never had any visitors.
I rise to my feet as he gets closer and that’s when he spots me. “Gabriel?” his husky voice rasps in awe.
I nod.
“Mira! Eres un hombre.” He smiles happily as he looks me up and down, excited to see how I’ve grown into a man. The last time he saw me, I was just a child
Quickly, I take my seat trying to avoid any sort of physical contact with him.
“I can’t believe you are here after so many years!” His face is still beaming as he takes a seat across from me.
“Neither can I.”
“Why now?”
I look away and swallow hard, still trying to force down what feels like a golf ball in my throat. “I’m here to tell you that Jase has…” I squeeze my eyes shut and shake my head, finding it very difficult to say the words out loud, and doing my damnedest to keep the tears away.
“Qué pasa, Jason? Is he okay?” He leans in closer to me, suddenly even more curious to find out why I’m finally here.
I can’t help but lash out, “Don’t pretend to care now, Papi.”
“Gabriel, I’m not the man I once was. Yo he pagado por todos mis pecados y yo encontré a Jesucristo,” he says passively.
Paid for his sins and found Jesus?! “Yeah, okay,” I mutter under my breath.
“Please, tell me about Jason. I will say a prayer for him if he’s in trouble.”
“He doesn’t need your prayers, Papi. Not anymore, at least. What he needed was a father, a role model; that’s something you never were.”
“You’re right, Gabriel. I was not a good father to you or to Jason,” he lowers his head remorsefully.
“Jase is dead,” I blurt out. “He OD’d.” Once the words are out, I can’t stop myself from continuing. “I did everything I could to save him. He got clean for a while, but his demons were too strong, and his need to get high was too much.” I feel the tears begin to roll down my cheeks.
“Muerto?” A sad, confused look washes over my father’s face. “You should have gotten word to me. I could have attended his funeral. They let inmates out for the death of an immediate family member.”
“You weren’t wanted there.” He winces. I know my words are harsh, but even with his admission of being a shitty father, my hatred for my father is still there after all these years. Those feelings haven’t lessened, and now, as I sit in front of him face to face, they may even be stronger because of Jase. “I blame you for Jase’s death.”
“Me? How am I to blame?”
“Well, let’s start back at the beginning. Shall we take a walk down memory lane?”
“Gabriel, you can’t blame me for Jase doing drugs,” he interrupts.
“Oh, I can… and I do,” I hiss. “You used to beat the shit out of us and Mami. Maybe if we had normal parents, parents who actually gave a shit, I wouldn’t have had to bury my little brother last week.” I pause, letting him absorb each and every hateful word.
He stares blankly at me, not knowing how to respond.
The words keep flowing, “Maybe we could’ve been the first ones to graduate not just high school but quite possibly college.” I’m not here to reconcile with my father. I came here for one purpose and one purpose only, to let him know that Jase is dead and it’s on his hands. He may not have bought Jase’s last fix or stuck the needle into his vein, but it’s his fault Jase was broken and battered. It’s his fault Jase couldn’t cope. “But that wasn’t the hand we were dealt, was it? We had a drunken, abusive loser for a father and a junkie for a mother. I was the strong one; I had to be,” I pound my fist on the table. My father jumps and I notice a guard look over at us, but I continue on. “I had to handle the shit that was thrown at me, and keep my little brother safe,” I lift my eyes, meeting my father’s, “from you.” Again he winces at my words. “Jase and I should’ve been outside playing baseball or football, being kids, but instead we were too busy cowering in the corner and hiding our bruised bodies.”
“Gabriel…” he touches my arm.
“I didn’t know, Gabriel,” his voice is full of regret. “I’m so sorry, mijo.”
Hearing him call me “son” makes me see red. “Don’t you call me that,” I lash out. “You’re not my father; you never were. You’re dead to me.” I stand up and begin to walk away.
“I don’t understand. Why did you even come here?”
I stop dead in my tracks and swing around angrily to look him straight in the eye so there is no mistaking my intention. He can read it in my face and through my body language just as clearly as through the words I say in response, “Because, I wanted you to know, without question, that you’re not only responsible for the murder of one person, but two.”
I watch as the tears that had been welling up in his eyes overflow. Yet, I feel no remorse for him. I’m actually glad he’s crying. I hope this eats him up for the rest of his miserable life. I turn and walk out. Angrily, I shove through the double doors leading to the outside of the jail. I will never step foot in this place again. I hope he rots in Hell.
I reach into my pocket for my phone to call Jimmy and have him come pick me up, but I hear a familiar voice, “You need a ride?” Salem.
“What the hell are you doin’ here?”
“Jimmy told me where I could find you.”
Fucking Jimmy.
“Who were you visiting, Gabriel?”
I shake my head, refusing to answer her question as I round the front of her car and open the passenger’s side door.
“Why are you keeping secrets from me?”
Getting in her car, I respond, “I’m not keepin’ secrets from you.” I let out a staggered sigh, “Can you just drive, please?”
“Where do you want to go?”
I slam the car door and stare out the window uttering, “Anywhere but here.”
“Fine, I’ll drive, but I need you to tell me who you were visiting at some point.”