Don't Let Me Go

by Catherine Ryan Hyde

  • • •

  “Here, take this up to Felipe,” Billy said to Grace. “He’ll need it.”

  Grace took the mug from his hands, holding it carefully in both of hers.

  “Poor Felipe. He doesn’t get to bed until after two. No cream? Why didn’t you put cream in it?”

  “Because Felipe doesn’t take cream. He takes it black.”

  “You sure?”

  “Positive.”

  “Wait,” she said, paused in his doorway. “When did you ever have coffee with Felipe?”

  “One day while you were at school. Run get him now, OK? We have to go.”

  Truthfully, Billy realized, they were right on time and there was no need to hurry. It was only his stress that drove the moment.

  A few minutes later she led Felipe down the stairs, both hands on his elbow. Felipe was holding the mug of coffee with one hand and rubbing both eyes with the other, feeling his way down the steps without looking.

  When Grace led him up to the doorway, he looked up at Billy and smiled sleepily, then yawned.

  “OK. I’m here, my friend. Ready when you are.”

  His accent was thicker than usual, probably owing to his being mostly asleep.

  Then he gave Billy a quick, one-armed hug. It almost made up for the lack of Jesse. To the extent that anything could ever make up for the lack of Jesse.

  • • •

  He stood shoulder to shoulder with Felipe, watching Grace walk through the schoolyard.

  “So, that’s really something, then,” Felipe said.

  “What is?”

  “Oh. Sorry. I guess when I’m sleepy, I think out loud. I was thinking how when I first met you, you didn’t even go across the hall. And now here you are standing in front of Grace’s school.”

  “Don’t remind me,” Billy said. “Six days left until Grace’s big day. And the hardest part of all is actually going inside the school. And I haven’t even tried it once.”

  Billy sighed, and they turned and began the long walk home together.

  “You’ll be fine,” Felipe said. “Look at all you did so far.”

  “If Jesse’s there, I’ll be fine. But he might not be.”

  “What’s so special about Jesse?” Felipe asked. “No, you know what? Never mind. I sort of know. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but I know what you mean. When people are having trouble, he’s the guy. Maybe he’ll be back on time.”

  “I sure hope so. Sorry to get you up so early.”

  “My own fault,” Felipe said. “I stayed up extra-late last night. I knew it was a mistake. I knew I’d pay big for it. But I did it anyway. You see…I sorta met a girl.”

  “Really? That’s great.”

  “Well, not really, I didn’t. Well, I mean…I did. She’s a girl. And I met her. But I don’t know much yet. You know. I just met her. But she came on as prep cook at my work. Clara, her name is. So we ended up going up on the roof of the restaurant and talking till three. Crazy, I know. But she’s so different from my last girlfriend. All quiet and shy. My last girlfriend was really pretty, too pretty, and she knew it. She knew what she had, and she never let me forget it. You know? So, listen. What did Jesse do that helped you when he walked with you? Anything special? Or was it just Jesse being Jesse?”

  “Well. Let’s see. A little bit of both, I guess. He used to put one hand on my shoulder. But you don’t have to do that if you don’t want. It might look weird. But I think Jesse doesn’t care much what people think.”

  A moment later Billy felt Felipe’s hand settle firmly on to his shoulder.

  “Thanks,” Billy said.

  “When I was a kid I was scared of the dark,” Felipe said. “Who knows why people are scared of things, right? If you are you just are. And my dad was kinda strict about stuff like that. You know. Being all independent and making him proud by doing everything just right. I was always supposed to be a man. You know? But when you’re five it’s kinda hard. So I’d just pretend I wasn’t scared. But it’s easier if you don’t have to pretend. That much I know. I know how it feels to be scared.”

  Billy heard the rumble of a car engine, beefy and rough and with no appreciable muffler. His blood turned to ice when it slowed beside them.

  He looked over to see a tough-looking Hispanic man leaning out the open driver’s window. The man made kissing noises at them.

  Felipe’s hand dropped to his side.

  “Maricones!” the man shouted cheerfully. “Es tan en amor, maricones!”

  He stepped on the gas, and apparently the brake at the same time, and the tires spun with a screaming sound. The acrid smell of burning rubber filled Billy’s nostrils. Then the car blessedly sped away, the driver flipping his middle finger at them as he drove.

  “Sorry,” Billy said quietly.

  “No, don’t be sorry. I should be sorry to you. I don’t know why I took my hand away. I was just being your friend, anyway. I shoulda told that guy to bite me. Screw him. Screw ‘em all.”

  Felipe put his hand back on Billy’s shoulder, more firmly and more affectionately this time, and they began to walk again.

  “See now why I hate to go outside so much?”

  “Yeah. I guess I do. But you gotta do it anyway, right? I mean, it’s life. You gotta do life. Right?”

  “Not really,” Billy said. “You don’t have to. Lots of people don’t do life any more. They just stop at some point. And once you stop, it’s really hard to get started again. But then, once you get started again, it’s kind of hard to stop. What did that guy say to us?”

  “You don’t want to know.”

  They walked in silence for a block or two, that reassuring hand resting on Billy’s shoulder.

  Then Billy said, “I can take her myself tomorrow.”

  “Really?”

  “Really. I have no idea how. But I will. You stay after work and talk to Clara. I’ll make it work somehow. I just will.”

  • • •

  “I’m holding your hand,” Grace said.

  As if he wouldn’t know.

  They stood in the open doorway of their building, the spring morning hitting Billy in the face. The same kind of morning as yesterday, he reminded himself. And dozens of days before that. Except it wasn’t. Because today he had to walk home alone. He swallowed hard against the pounding in his chest and temples, for no reason he could have explained.

  “You have to do this,” Grace said. “You told Felipe to stay up extra late, and now you have to get me to school.”

  She tugged gently forward on his hand, gripping it tightly in both of hers.

  “Yes,” Billy said. “The inevitability of the moment is not lost on me.”

  “You’re so weird, Billy. Come on. Stop thinking about it and just do it.”

  She pulled him forward, and he willed his feet to keep moving, to build some momentum. Next thing he knew he was down the stairs and out on to the sidewalk.

  “I’d close my eyes,” he said, “but I’d probably trip or something.”

  “You can close your eyes. I can lead you like you were a blind guy. I could be the guide dog.”

  “I’m not sure it would help.”

  “Try it.”

  Billy closed his eyes and took four steps blind. And immediately pictured angry men in passing cars, muggers at the end of the block. All manner of miscreants, none of whom Grace would know enough to warn him about.

  He opened his eyes again.

  “That doesn’t help.”

  “Right,” Grace said. “I was just thinking you can’t close your eyes on the way home, anyway.”

  “Oh, thank you so much for reminding me of the way home.”

  He stalled on the sidewalk. Grace tugged at his hand but could not restart him.

  “I think I’m getting just a wee tiny bit panicky,” he said.

  “I’m going to let go of your hand, but don’t you dare run home.”

  She let go, and Billy remained rooted. He glanced over his shoulder.
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  “Don’t look back!” she shouted. “You know better than to do that. What if Jesse were here? What would he tell you?”

  “Not to look back, I think.”

  “You don’t think, you know.”

  “Are your hands cold? Why are you rubbing your hands together like that?”

  “I’m going to do reiki on you.”

  “Right out here in front of everybody?”

  “Got a better plan?”

  So Billy stood a moment while Grace held her hands close to his belly, but not touching. He glanced around to see if anyone was watching. It didn’t seem to help much, but then, he figured, he wasn’t really cooperating. Instead of releasing his anxiety, he was drowning in fresh anxiety over receiving reiki in public from a nine-year-old.

  “Let’s walk some more,” he said.

  She grabbed his hand and pulled.

  He walked two blocks on sheer willpower, and then stalled again.

  “You have to do this, Billy. I can’t go the rest of the way alone. I’m not allowed.”

  He opened his mouth to answer but found his voice disabled.

  “OK, there’s just one more thing we can do. We’ll have to dance to school.”

  Billy dug deeper in a desperate attempt to get his voice back.

  “I can’t,” he said.

  “You said it would work for me, and you were right. Now come on. Latin salsa.”

  “I can’t. People will stare at me.”

  “So? Let “em stare. That’s what you said to me.”

  “I wish you wouldn’t always parrot back what I’ve said to you. It’s irritating.”

  “Why? Because it’s true stuff?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Come on. Latin salsa. Right now. Unless you want to waltz.”

  “I don’t think the waltz would work well in a straight line. It more takes you around in a circle.”

  “Then start salsa dancing, Billy.”

  Freshly out of options, he did as he was told.

  Wonderful, he thought as they danced down the street together. The only thing worse than being out in public: being out in public behaving strangely and drawing attention. He reminded himself that he had done this before, with far less anxiety. But he didn’t even ask himself what the difference might have been. It was obvious. Jesse.

  An older couple came out on to their porch to watch them go by. Four cars slowed down. One driver shook his head slightly before accelerating again. He heard someone call out, “Hey, Frankie, come ‘ere an’ see this,” but could not tell from which direction.

  And then they arrived at Grace’s school. And Billy had to admit, though not out loud, that the blocks had flown by.

  He leaned down and kissed Grace on the forehead.

  “You just gonna run?” she asked.

  He nodded, having misplaced his voice yet again.

  “OK. See you after school. You can tell me how it went.”

  Billy nodded one more time, and then took off sprinting.

  He built up to a speed he could not recall having ever accomplished before. The houses and apartment buildings streaking by him seemed to stretch out, as if he were altering time by racing through it. The rasp of his own labored breathing sounded artificial and far away. Then the world began to whiten, and it dawned on him suddenly that he was probably in the middle of a steep oxygen deficit, and that if he didn’t slow down he might pass out. But he couldn’t bring himself to slow down.

  And then, somewhere in that moment, he had an imagining. It wasn’t a hallucination. He didn’t literally see it. It just came into his head, with a strong picture.

  Wings.

  They did not flap at him, nor did they taunt him by holding still. They surrounded him. Wrapped themselves around him like a warm blanket.

  Billy slowed to a trot, and trotted the rest of the way home.

  • • •

  “Oh, boy, you’re here. Thank goodness,” Grace said. “I was worrying about you all day at school. So I guess you got home OK. So how did it go?”

  “It was all right,” Billy said. “I just ran.”

  “That’s it? That’s all you’re gonna tell me about it?”

  “At least for now,” he said.

  • • •

  Billy woke from a dreamless sleep to hear Grace whisper his name from her bed on the living room couch.

  “Billy? Are you awake?”

  “Sort of,” he said.

  “Did I wake you?”

  “Sort of.”

  “Oh. Sorry. I’m having trouble sleeping. You know tomorrow is Wednesday.”

  “Right.”

  “And then Thursday and Friday, and then the weekend, and then the big day. It just gets harder and harder to sleep every night.”

  “Are you nervous about the dance? You know it backwards and forwards.”

  “A little bit. Just because it’s big and exciting. Not because I think I won’t be good. Mostly I’m nervous waiting to see if my mom really is coming, and if she really is about to have thirty days clean. Just think. I could go back and live with her again. But then the closer it gets to that, the more I get scared.”

  “Yolanda says she’s really doing it.”

  “Right. I know. That’s why I get scared. Cause I always say I won’t get my hopes up, but then I do. I just can’t stop. Cause I really do want to live with her again.”

  Billy said nothing, absorbing the emotional resonance of Grace going home.

  As if she could hear him thinking, she said, “I’ll still come visit you all the time, you know.”

  “I know.”

  “I’m also worried that it’ll get harder and harder to sleep every night. And what if Sunday night I don’t sleep at all? I’ll have to do my big dance and I’ll be all tired.”

  “If Jesse’s back, I bet he could do reiki on your sleeplessness.”

  “But what if he isn’t? And that’s another thing. What if Jesse’s mom is still dying on Monday? Maybe he won’t come to my school to watch me dance. Maybe Rayleen won’t even come.”

  “You’re getting yourself too upset to sleep. Here. Try this. Close your eyes and picture something with me. Picture big, white, feathery wings. All wrapped around you. Taking care of you.”

  A long silence.

  “Wings? Like the ones you have nightmares about?”

  “Except not scary. Because…I mean…you can turn things like that around. Remember how I used to be scared of cats? But then I got to know one. There are all manner of things that scare us at some point in our lives, but then later we find out they really never meant to hurt us anyway.”

  “What made you think of that, Billy?”

  “Just try it. Please.”

  A long silence. It lasted. And it lasted.

  Finally, a good five minutes later, he got up and checked on her, quietly. She had fallen back asleep.

  Grace

  It was Friday, last school day before the big event.

  Billy had danced her to school every morning, and every morning more and more people had looked out their windows or stepped out on to their porch to watch them go by. Like people knew to expect them by now. Like it was the morning performance of some big show, and everybody wanted to get a good seat. Except they mostly stood.

  On Thursday they’d done the tango, and people really seemed to like that.

  And Billy seemed OK.

  But then it was Friday, and Grace had the big idea to waltz to school. Because it was fun when they waltzed in Billy’s living room, and it had made them laugh.

  Billy said again what he’d said the first time, that the waltz takes you more around in a circle. Not so much to school. But Grace was sure they could just take longer steps in the school direction, like they did with the Latin salsa. And she was in one of those moods that involved not letting anything drop.

  They were about halfway to school when it happened.

  Billy had just spun her around in a twirl, and that nice S
panish-speaking family in the blue house were all watching and clapping, and Grace thought it would be nice to spin Billy, too. She thought the family would like that.

  So she reached up high, and he ducked down low, and he spun wildly, really getting into it, lots of forward motion, and then he got his foot caught on a big slab of concrete where the sidewalk was uneven. Grace saw it happen, but there wasn’t much she could do. It just all happened so fast.

  He went down like the trees she’d seen in movies about lumber cutting. You know, right after somebody says “timber.” He built up speed on the way down and landed right on his face. Literally. He put his palms down, but it just wasn’t enough to stop his face. Grace could hear the sound all the air made when it rushed out of him. She heard the sound of gasps from the nice family.

  “Oh, my God! Billy!”

  Grace helped him turn over and sit up. There was a lot of blood coming from his nose. A scary lot.

  “It’s fine,” he said. “I’m fine.”

  But he definitely said it in that way that people say they’re fine when they’re not fine in any way. And by then the family had run out to help them. A nice older man, short and thick, a grandpa type of guy, who brought a handful of tissues, and a woman who might have been his daughter even though she was definitely grown to maybe middle age, and a girl who was a teenager.

  Everybody was talking at once, but mostly in Spanish. It was too much Spanish for Grace, but she did get the part where they kept asking if he was OK.

  Billy took the tissues, and held them gently to his nose to try to stop the bleeding, but it was too much bleeding, and those tissues got swamped right away. He kept saying he was OK, but they kept asking in Spanish, and Billy kept answering in English, and Grace could see that nobody was getting anywhere with that system.

  So she said, “Esta bueno. Billy esta bueno.”

  But then she wondered why she even said it when she knew it was just a big lie.

  The lady, who Grace didn’t even see leave, came back with a clean dishtowel, and Billy held that to his nose.

  “I have to get home,” he said to Grace.