by Mara White
“Our story doesn’t change, no matter where it started.” Jaylee stares up at me.
I shake my head. “It’s not just us—we make everyone suffer. Imagine how your mother feels about Robert. Imagine how she would have felt about our child. It’s toxic, Jaylee. Let go. We can’t make it just about us. Everyone we love is involved.”
I walk down the steps so that we’re speaking face to face.
Jaylee balls his fists, then turns his back on me in a pained gesture, as if to leave. The he roars out an exhale, and faces me once more.
“What if no other fucking thing on this earth mattered to me besides you?”
My lungs fold in and compress on my heart. I’m being hit by lightning bolts of anxiety; I’m desperately searching for a good ending, one that I’m unable to see.
“My children matter to me, Jaylee.”
“Don’t say that!” He stops himself. Then quietly, “You know I love the girls.”
“Let go. We have to.”
I watch Jaylee’s chest heaving. His nostrils flare with anger and dismay. He doesn’t know how to give up. He hits his chest with his fist and his eyes lock into mine, pleading with me.
“Kate, this is all I have to give you—it’s all I fucking have!”
His voice is soft, but raised an octave, teetering right on the edge. He turns his palms toward me with his arms out, lifted slightly. This is his offer. Himself, in the flesh. Jaylee, all that he is. This is what he has to give. And shouldn’t it be enough?
“Don’t you want me, Negra?” His voice breaks, and his eyes swell and look pink and tender with the gathering pressure of tears.
“Oh, Jaylee,” I whisper.
“What? You don’t want it? The beautiful shit that happens between us? It’s not good enough for you?”
We’re standing toe to toe, like two orphans in the street. We’re lonely without one another. I don’t think either one of us feels like we belong in our natural place. We will always have this instinctual pull, and if we’re not separated by force, we’ll end up right back together.
“You can just pass that up? Give it up, cause you don’t need it?” He’s yelling now and his tone has gone frantic. I take a step back from him and wrap my arms around myself for protection from the storm of emotions going haywire in front of me.
“You don’t go crazy without it? Cause I do! I need it, Kate! I won’t fucking live without it!”
I shake my head at him as tears slip down my face, taking tiny steps backward to increase the space between us.
“Jaylee, I will love you until my dying day, and then after that I’ll love you some more. But I can’t be with you. I can’t do it.”
My love will be my penitence, my cross to bear. I’ll wear it forever.
“So this is it? We’re over? You just walk away?”
My body trembles as I nod my head. I battle with my need to comfort him.
His hands go to his pockets and he speaks to the ground.
“I guess you always been trying to shake me. I thought I could show you you was wrong.”
He kicks a bottle cap and it shoots straight into the air. I jump at the surprise, and curb my instinct to run. Jaylee’s volatile, he’s unpredictable. He’s a man who doesn’t fear consequences, and will just follow his impulses. The last time I provoked this much emotion from him, he struck me in the face.
“You should go now, Jaylee. Pearl is on her way home. I don’t want her to see you like this.”
He nods and puts his hand to his head to obscure his eyes. Then he lifts his chin and removes it, and I see a single tear track has marked his cheek. His eyes are the most beautiful color I have ever seen: a brown so light it glimmers an ethereal gold. His eyes hold something feral and rebellious, but when focused on me they shine soft and warm. It’s a heady mixture, They’re captivating, containing both the push and the pull.
I see a flash of finality cross his face. He won’t take me back if I change my mind tomorrow. He’ll belong to someone else. This decision is permanent. It’s almost more than I can take.
He brings his fist to his mouth and looks back down at the ground, nodding. He bites into the back of his thumb knuckle, still nodding as if having an inner dialogue with himself. One last second of eye contact. I hold my face still. He turns, and the pavement scratches beneath his sneakered feet, sounding unnaturally loud.
From now on, for every second of my life, I will suffer with this unknown. Could I have made him happy? Could our unique love have survived?
He disappears around the corner and I stand still, stunned by my own strength. Or is it weakness? I really don’t know.
I look down and stare at my own feet and force myself to breathe in and out slowly, despite my gasping, sputtering heart. Use your head. You did the right thing. Continue. Live. Stop the dreadful mourning. It’s over. You will frighten the girls.
“Cassandra’s mother called, they’re dropping her off.” Carmen shouts out the front door.
I turn and wave, move toward the house, and plaster a sad attempt at a smile across my face. I put my hand on my hip and stare up the hill. The golden hour. The perfect time of day for a photograph, I think, as I shield my eyes against the blinding sun. But I don’t want to capture this moment. I want it to fade away forever.
Pearl’s friend’s car appears over the top of the hill. They’ve sent a driver to bring her home. How formal. I feel lonely for Pearl. She gets out of the car and pulls out her backpack and an art project. Her hair spills over her face, escaping her two frayed braids. She shuts the car door by backing into it, her hands full of her things. Pearl’s so grown up already she shuts doors with her hips.
She smiles and I shade my eyes to see her perfect round face. Another car appears at the top of the hill and I notice it in my periphery only because it’s blaring music. Pearl walks toward the house, stopping to hike up her slouching knee socks, the part of the camp uniform that always makes her complain. She sets down her backpack to do it, and suddenly I feel afraid.
I lift my eyes from Pearl to the car now passing, and clearly see the glint of a gun, an arm extended, pointing right at me.
It was me who got us here. I’m the one who did this. I open my mouth to scream but no sound comes. Just like in nightmares—a silent scream—a hideous and useless open mouth.
Pearl looks at me and stands.
But a swift and agile Jaylee appears out of thin air, hurling himself at my baby with the demon speed of light.
“Down!” he shouts, and our eyes meet as he leaps on top of Pearl, now a mere foot in front of me. I hear the gunshots as I fall to the ground. I’m unsure if my fall is in response to his command, or if my body and mind have finally given out.
The music leaves with it as the car screeches off. Then silence. Golden sunlight. I can see the dust particles fanning out in the rays. I reach my hand up. I exhale. I see that I’m alive. I claw my way to them, two beings more precious than this very light.
“Pearl,” I gasp. “Oh, God. Pearl!”
I rake my hands through the dirt and grass. My eyes are blurred with tears, and the only thing my traumatized brain will allow me to see is Jaylee’s white T-shirt, saturated with a moving tide of crimson.
“Pearl?” I scream and roll his weight off her tiny frame. She’s facedown in the grass, splayed like a snow angel. I pull her to my chest, pushing the stray hairs off of her face with my hands, now covered in summer-storm mud.
Her eyes are wide open, staring. I hold my breath and repent for my very life. Her eyes blink. Once. Then twice.
“Mom?” she says and throws her arms around my neck.
I thank God for her life. I hold her head to my cheek and inhale the scent of her hair and her neck.
“Mom, is that Jaylee?”
“Don’t look, baby, don’t look.” All of the blood is Jaylee’s, none of it came from my baby. I hear the front door bang open and Carmen comes running down the steps. I look over to her; her face is panic-stricken, star
ing down at Jaylee. Standing on legs that feel momentarily strong, I pass Pearl to Carmen.
“Take her inside. Call an ambulance. The police. Call Robert.”
“Will they come back?”
“I don’t think so, but get inside, just in case.”
“But what about you, Señora Kate?”
“I’m fine, just call 911,” I say as I kneel in the mud next to the man I love.
I gently lift his head and cradle it in my lap. The front of his shirt bears grass stains and dirt, but no sign that bullets have passed through his body. I hold his head and caress his cheek as my tears splash onto his face.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
I gently rock his body and pull him into me as close as I can. He lies across my lap, head slung back, his body a dead weight. I seek out the warmth of the wound with my hand, hoping to stop the blood seeping out of him. My hand slides along his back; every part of it is warm and slick. I watch his blood soak into my clothes. I can feel it spreading in my lap. The life force of my true love is slipping silently through my fingers.
The wail of the ambulance sounds in the distance. Each second ticks by heavily, drunk on Jaylee’s blood.
I rock him, clutch him to me, and whisper again and again, “Hold on.”
Chapter 24
I’m not sure what happened next; I’ve got no idea how much time has passed. I watched them put his body in an ambulance, and I think Carmen called his family. These are the two things I clearly recall before my entire world went blank.
I honestly thought that by letting him go, I was setting him free. If he’s gone, I don’t know what will be left of me.
Twice now, Jaylee has given me the most precious things in life. He gave me the chance to uncover my innermost desires, taking me on a journey I otherwise never would have taken had I not stumbled across him that day. Now he’s given me a second chance to raise my daughters. This is a debt that I can never, ever repay.
Jaylee’s imprint on my fate wasn’t accidental. I never thought I’d have him forever, but I always imagined he would continue on long after the advent of “us” and far beyond the scope of “me.”
Robert is home now, and Emily is here to comfort Ada and Pearl. I’m of no use to anyone. I’m ghosting, I’m shattered beyond any relief. I’ve unintentionally destroyed the most beautiful thing anyone has ever given to me.
I don’t recall ever remaining still like this in one place for so long. I’ve become acquainted with every fiber of the carpet, and hours ago my knees stopped begging me to rearrange them. If he can’t move, I won’t move. The physical pain is welcome, a recognizable old friend amongst feelings that are too awful to even try to process.
A constant blue flame of remorse flickers in me, growing stronger. Regret flows over me like acid. It will melt me; I’ll be nothing but a pile of bones and teeth. No feelings to try to comfort—no thoughts to contend with. If he can’t speak, then I won’t speak.
I’ve yet to wash his blood off of my hands. I want to always wear the stain of his life. I want to be close to him—to hold some part of him to me forever. If he can no longer bleed, then I will bleed for him.
I know press and reporters have arrived here at the house. I know that Robert has tried to first soothe me, and then shake me, back into his world.
He keeps talking on the phone. I hear “emergency surgery” and “induced coma.” I know he’s speaking about Jaylee, but words have lost their meaning. If he can’t think, I won’t think.
I’m not so sure I want to come back—here in this limbo, I feel quite safe. I can still sense the weight of his body in my arms, his head fallen back, his breathing aqueous and shallow. I relive my desperate measures to somehow prevent his life from leaving his body.
Robert calls a doctor to come to the house. He speaks to me first, and then shines a flashlight into my eyes, trying to catch a glimpse of the end of the tunnel I’m in. I think of telling him he can look but he won’t find it. I won’t let anyone but Jaylee unlock me. He gives me something for shock, and sleep beckons me.
The telephone rings with a shrill yell. There are footsteps around me, some near my face. I can see lights turn on and off behind my eyelids, and sense the opening and closing of the front door.
The body aches return before I’m fully awake: every nerve is on fire, every muscle fiber screaming for some kind of relief. Emily sits cross-legged beside me and strokes my head.
If Jaylee taught me anything, it’s that love demands action. Love can’t be a given that we awkwardly accept. And try what you may, but you can’t make her stop, or just will her away. Love is a fiercely loyal huntress that drops her kill right at your feet, and all she asks of you is that you consume it—that you use it to make you complete.
Jaylee gave me his love purely and it changed me. It made me who I am today.
“I was trying to do the right thing, for him and for my family,” I croak out. Emily shushes me and continues to pet my head.
“Kate, he’s not dead yet, he just might make it.”
I nod my head and stick my face back into the carpet. I’d give anything to spare his life. I twist the fiber in my fingers and groan. The tears weigh heavy and hot, just behind the surface. I can’t even cry, I’m drugged so numb.
“He’s strong. I think he’ll pull through.”
Everyone keeps trying to comfort me, a strange luxury I don’t deserve. My actions have caused them suffering; they shouldn’t have to suffer through this too.
“Emily, I’m sorry. Tell Robert I’m sorry too.”
“Aw, Sis, you can tell him yourself. He’s upstairs in the study. I’ve never seen him like this—so at a loss for what to do—so un-Robert. I think he needs you to comfort him—to tell him it’s going to be okay.”
“Is it?”
“Of course it is! You know, it’s strange—it’s almost like Robert blames himself. Like he feels as if all of this is his fault.”
For a moment, my consciousness falters. The veil of my reality flickers; for a second the layers lift. My entire world shifts before me, and when I try to refocus, everything is askew. How far would Robert go to ensure that he’s won? Would he hire a hit man? Or has my mind taken on imaginary monsters, and in this traumatized state, run completely astray?
I’m so unsure about Robert that I lose my grasp of cause and effect. Which of these events did I have any control over, and which were constructed by an outside hand? I know that gang violence is real, and casualties in my neighborhood are a common reality. But the only two men I’ve ever made love to outside of my marriage were both ruthlessly gunned down within the space of a week.
Gangs find power in connections. They work with an underground code that only insiders can access. It’s this code that rules the streets. I know perfectly well from my pedigreed upbringing that the very toughest of gangs are in fact the ultra-wealthy and the super-elite.
“Em, Robert’s custody threat is real. He has the power to take my girls away,” I roll on my side to see her better. There’s no make-up on her face. She looks so pretty to me. She looks like my sister.
“He would never! He wants you to stay with him—it’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen.”
“He has complete power over Jaylee’s life. If Jaylee pulls through, his whole future is in Robert’s hands.” I stop here as the alarm goes off in my mind and causes a sudden chill.
Because I put it there. I trusted Robert to do what was best for Jaylee.
I have never been an actress, but I suddenly understand the part I’m playing, and the importance of my role. What I perceive as accidents of fate may very well be a carefully calculated plan. But if I’ve got any hope of saving those I love, I’ve got to go along with the charade. I can’t let on that I know anything different than what I’ve been told. Because one thing is certain: I stand no chance against a man like Robert Champion.
The house phone rings and is immediately picked up. The hand at work here oversees everything that I
do and everything that I touch. The only way for me to compete it is to play the same game.
“Is Pearl okay? Are they both asleep?” I whisper to Emily.
“Pearl is so strong, Kate. God! She’s so much like you. We read and tucked in, like everything was normal. I think they’re just worried about their mom.”
“I need to get up and go see them,” I say and try to rise, but every muscle seems to be stuck. “My body has frozen up on me, Em. I’ve been lying still for too long. Do you think you can you help me get up?”
Emily wraps her arms around my chest from behind. She grunts as she lifts me, and I try to put my own weight on my feet. My legs are made of wobbly jelly. Two stumbling steps later, I’ve made it to the living-room couch.
Emily returns with a warm cloth from the kitchen. She sits beside me and wipes the dried blood from my hands. Salty tears fall down my face as she scrubs him away. I’ll have blood there forever; whenever I look at my hands, it will be all that I’ll see.
“What you really need is a hot shower. It would make you feel better, loosen up those stiff muscles,” Emily says.
“Em, you should have become a nurse. Nurturing looks so good on you,” I scratch out of my dry throat.
Emily smiles and keeps working, obviously pleased with my comment.
“You know what I learned from being kidnapped, Kate?”
“No,” I say quietly, still acutely aware that it was my fault.
“Most of what I thought I cared about doesn’t really matter at all. All of this crazy shit you’ve done—or that‘s happened to you with Jaylee—I don’t judge it. Not one bit.”
She gently works the edge of the washcloth underneath my mud-filled nail.
“Because sometimes it takes something monumental to happen to really be able to see what’s going on inside yourself. I don’t know what’s right and what’s wrong anymore. Like I said, I don’t judge. It’s important to hold onto the little moments with everything that you’ve got.“
