"The doctor told us Jess-she couldn't have any more children. We did it anyway. If we-I-hadn't done that, she'd still be alive. I don't know why I let her go through with it." He wrapped his fingers around a cup which was sitting on the bedside table. With a sudden surge of adrenaline, he hurled it across the room, the ceramic mug shattered as it smashed against the opposite wall.
Elise bit her lip and watched him drop back onto the bed, his body trembling. He dropped his head into his hands, his breathing fast and shallow as he tried to collect himself.
Elise wrapped her arms around him, resting her chin on his shoulder. She listened to his raspy breathing before speaking again. "You didn't kill her. She was your wife...I'm sure she wanted another baby as much as you did." Her words came slow, her voice was gentle. She watched as the blush slowly receded from the pale skin on his neck.
David stretched out on her bed, his hands covering his eyes. Shifting to look up at her, he was finally able to collect himself enough to speak, "Jessica is pregnant." His voice broke slightly as he continued. "She's going to have a baby." His words were slow and thought out, trying to convince himself.
David stood up and walked over to where his jacket was slung over the nightstand. He sat down on the chair and dug through his pockets."We just found out.”
David stared at his reflection in the mirror of her make-up table as he lit a cigarette. With a tired sigh, pushed himself to his feet and walked over to the window overlooking the street. Pausing, he took a deep drag on the cigarette as he watched people mull around busily on the Second Avenue. He turned around, looking at her with confusion."Elise?" He asked, breaking the silence hanging over the room.
Elise stood up and fastened her robe tightly around her waist. She took a seat behind her make-up table. Her hair was frizzy and thick with volume. She repeatedly ran the brush through her hair. Every few strokes, she tugged to work through a particularly dense knot. "I suppose congratulations are order." Elise's voice had an icy twinge to it as she held his eye contact through the glass.
"Sorry," David mumbled, noting the abrupt change in her body language. He looked over at her with wide eyes. He walked over to her, resting a familiar arm on her shoulder. His other hand was clenched nervously at his side."I know you don't like to hear-" He stammered as he continued, trying to make peace with her.
Cutting him off, Elise turned to face him and slowly rose from the chair. She ran her fingers through his hair and forced a friendly smile across her face. "David, you and I have known each other long enough, I hope we could talk as friends." She spoke slowly, trying to calm him down. She ran her fingers down his smooth cheeks. "You look scared to death.”
He paused for a moment. He shifted his eyes and looked out the window. His voice dropped an octave, weighed down with nervousness. "I am." He picked his shirt off the floor and slid it over his shoulder.
"Well," Elise began, resting her hands on her hips. She looked up at him with tentative eye contact. "Are you going to marry the poor girl?" Taking a half-step towards him, Elise one by one began fastening the buttons on his shirt.
"I don't think I have any other choice," David replied. He paused, clearing his throat before continuing. He shifted his gaze, watching her slender fingers work the buttons."I just don't know if I'm ready to be a father. I don't have any clue how to provide for a baby." He forced what turned out to be a nervous chuckle as he wiped at the anxious tears building up in his eyes, "I'm fucking scared to death." An embarrassed blush spreading over his cheeks. "I'm sorry. I don't mea-“
"I won't tell." Elise said. Her lips pursed together, as a smile slowly spread across her face. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and looked him square in the eye. "You know, if you talked to her, you might find she's feeling the exact same way." She brushed a strand of hair out of his eyes and wiped at one of the tears sliding down his cheek.
"I guess," he said, sniffling quietly. He quickly wiped his nose. "We just found out. I've been trying to figure out what I need to do about everything." He paused once again, sniffling. His voice cracked as he continued. "I just felt so awful... She was looking to me for some kind of answer, and nothing was coming to me. How am I supposed to be a father if I can't protect my wife?”
"You don't have to protect her." Elise said, flashing him what she hoped was a comforting smile. "She loves you. I would think she wants to have a baby with you.”
"You're warm," David hiccuped quietly, sniffling. He bit down on his thumb nail; his eyes focused with unwavering intensity on the hardwood floor. He forced out a chuckle, as he wrapped his arms around his body. "I can't stop shivering.”
"What you're feeling is normal," Elise said, wrapping her arms around him.
"I miss her so much," David whimpered. David dissolved into sobs, burying his head in her lap. His hands clutched at the blankets, looking for any support he could find.
"I know you do." Elise gently stroked his ruffled hair as he sobbed into her lap. She closed her eyes, breathing deeply as they fell into silence. The only sound in the room was David's pained sniffling. She spoke slowly, fighting to keep her voice even. "Let it out…"
"She's the only person who's always been there for me," David said, breaking the silence. His sentence was interrupted by his body wracking sobs. He rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. He wiped his eyes and exhaled deeply as he continued. "All that time in Paris, all the shit with my family. She's the only person I've ever been able to lean on." David stood up abruptly, grabbing his pants from where they were in a heap on the floor.
"Please stay, David." Elise reached out for his arm. She spoke quickly, trying to bring about a reaction from him. "I don't have anyone coming all night. You're welcome to sleep here. Don't go back there alone.”
David stumbled as he tried to slide into his pants. A look of forced concentration bled over his face. "I need to get back. That godawful woman is watching Thomas." He spoke slowly, making a concerted effort to not slur his words.
"You're drunk," Elise said. She reached up, refastening her hair in a quick bun at the base of her neck. She reached out for his arm, trying again to get his attention. Her eyes were strong and unwavering as she stepped in front of him, forcing him to make eye contact with her. She grabbed him by the elbow, "If someone's watching the baby, stay here and go back in the morning with a clear head. Don't go out there alone.”
Pulling back from her grasp, David dug in his billfold, dropping a few bills on her dresser. "I have to go." He opened the door, and took a half step out into the hallway.
"You're no good to anyone like th-," Elise shouted after him.
David looked back at her for a moment, but he shut the door firmly behind him cutting her off.
David pulled the door shut behind him as he made his way through the dark hallway above the bar. It felt like no matter how many people told him to not feel guilty, or that it wasn't his fault, he couldn't shake the overwhelming weight of responsibility sitting on his chest.
The odor of cigarette and pipe smoke was thick as David made his way back through the bar and toward the door. A piano tinkled a bluesy chorus, mingling with the quiet conversation of the bar patrons. David needed to walk, perhaps the peace of the night sky would be enough to quiet the pulsating insecurities in his head.
CHAPTER THREE
As David walked along the wooden walkway over the Brooklyn Bridge, somewhere is the darkness, a clock chimed three in the morning. David slid his dented gold pocket-watch from his breast pocket, quickly checking the time. Replacing the watch, David crossed his arms in front of him, staring at the splintering planks as he walked.
Far below, the East River was an inky black divide in the darkness, standing out against the yellowish city lights washing out the night sky.
At the highest point of the bridge, David finally felt the relief of a cool breeze moving the sweaty, stagnant air. He closed his eyes as he walked, letting the cool wind hit the layer of sweat covering his forehead.
David averted his eyes as a young couple strolled passed him from the other side of the bridge.
The two teenagers were at the end of a long night out. The girl wore a snug, ruby red dress with a fringed skirt. She hung heavily on the arm of the boy. His evening attire looked a little rumpled. His tattered bowler was pulled down over his eyes. They giggled quietly, drunkenly engrossed in each others company. They seemed aware of nothing but each other as the world moved sleepily by.
David stopped, leaning heavily on the stone railing. Clasping his hands in front of him, he stared far out over the river. In front of him, the Brooklyn skyline looked sleepy. Below him, the water was eerily still, only disturbed by the soft wake of a trash barge chugging down the river. David closed his eyes, resting his head against a support post, the steel wire feeling cool against his forehead.
David leaned against the clammy metal fire escape, his hands clasped in front of him. The cobblestone streets below him were mostly empty. Every so often a lonely factory worker trudged home from the late shift. Most though, were tucked up at home, escaping the unseasonably warm weather which hung over New York like a wet blanket.
David pulled out his last cigarette, before crumpling the wrapper in his hands and dropping it into the alley beneath him. There was a muffled clang as it bounced off something in the darkness. Lighting the cigarette, he took a deep puff, slowly releasing the lung full of smoke into the air above his head.
He turned around as the window behind him opened. Jessica brushed a stray hair out of her eyes as she climbed through to the fire escape. The rickety steel creaked underneath her weight. She inhaled sharply and stretched out the knots in her back as she took a quick look around the balcony. A look of wound exhaustion flashed over her face.
Moving towards the railing, Jessica unclasped the top button of her white blouse, which was already pulled out from her crimson colored skirt. Behind her, the warm glow from the gas lamp flooded through the window of their living room. Jessica's face glistened with sweat as she looked out over the city below them.
“You look tired," David asked, looking over at her. He took a half-step to his right, positioning himself next to her, intwining his fingers with hers.
"I finally got Thomas to sleep." Jessica said, he could hear the exhaustion in her voice as she softly exhaled and laid her head on his shoulder. Her body softly relaxed into his, leaning on him for support. "I wish I knew why he was so fussy today.”
Looking over, Jessica's blouse was almost transparent with sweat. "It's so damn hot," David replied, rolling his sleeves up around his elbows. His tie already hung loosely around his neck, the buttons of his shirt were unhooked to his collarbone.
They fell into a comfortable silence. Jessica was definitely mulling over something she wasn't sure about; she squeezed her eyes shut. David wrapped his arm gently around her narrow waist. "You're a million miles away. What's the matter?”
"I saw the Doctor today," Jessica said.
"And..." David said, trying to eliminate the pulsating silence which surrounded them in the early morning darkness. He searched her pale face, trying to find any hint as to what might have been wrong. He tightened his grip on her shoulder ever so slightly, afraid she was going to faint. “Jess..."
"We were right," Jessica replied, finally breaking the silence. A small smile spread across her face as she let the moment sink in. She braced a hand over her stomach as she continued. "I'm pregnant. It's still really early, but I am. The doctor said I'm not more than six weeks along.”
"You're..." David paused and studied her face which was suddenly glowing in the soft light streaming through the open window. Joy brimmed in her eyes as she looked up at him. He continued carefully, swallowing back his worry. "I thought he said you couldn't have any more... after Thomas." His tongue starting to trip over the thoughts which were racing through his head. He wrapped his hands around her elbows, holding her at arms length.
The brightness in Jessica's face helped him relax somewhat as she replied. "The Doctor said it was a chance in a million, but it happened." She paused, it was her turn to study him. She took a step closer to him, wrapping her arms around his waist. A worried expression crossed her face, replacing her smile. She cocked her head to one side as she continued. "You are happy about it, aren't you?"
Forcing a smile, David ran his fingers down her soft, round cheeks. He spoke slowly, considering his words carefully. "I am...It's just...you had such a rough time with Thomas..." He could hear the worry in his own voice as he continued. Looking into her eyes, he opted for simplicity. "I just can't loose you.”
"You won't." Jessica reached up, lacing her fingers behind his head. She guided his head down, kissing him lightly on the lips. She looked up into his eyes as a mischievous smile crossed her face. She took his hand in her's, placing it gently on her stomach. "Believe it or not, I am stronger than you give me credit for. I have a good feeling about this.”
David brushed her cheek with his pinkie and wrapped his other arm around her waist, pulling Jessica tightly into him. Holding her close, he let himself get lost in her eyes. "I love you so much, baby." He said, after a moment of silence.
As the couple continued into the distance, still quietly giggling to each other, David found himself alone yet again on the bridge above the East River. Still leaning on the railing, he looked down on the black water far beneath him.
A little further down the bridge, David watched as the boy backed the girl into the one of the tan stone pillars, practically falling into each other's arms. They were sloppy, drunk and completely head-over-heels in love.
David had contemplated suicide once before. He had been surrounded by nurses speaking a language he didn't understand, with his arms and chest covered in second and third degree burns. His wrists were strapped down, leaving him unable to move or scratch the constant itching flaring across his seared nerves.
David had been stationed at a trench dug in on the Western Front. Near the end of '17, the camp had been over-run by German infantry. The gun battle lasted for three exhausting days, ending in a mustard gas attack which took out three quarters of his trench. David had been one of the lucky ones, his face was protected enough to escape the lethal, devastating burns.
The only thing keeping him sane through the four long months in a French hospital was the memory of his girlfriend waiting at home.
David stopped in front of the deserted facade of St. Agnes', the Catholic church where he had married Jessica two years earlier. The church was located in the middle of East 43rd Street. It was a narrow block, barely wide enough for two automobiles to drive side by side.
Ahead of him, the street came to an abrupt end at the terminal of Grand Central Station.
Stepping inside the church, David paused for a moment as his eyes adjusted to the muted darkness. He dipped his fingers into the warm holy water and made the sign of the cross.
Moving further into the room, the only sound was David's footsteps on the tan and brown ceramic tile. Six gas chandeliers hung from the ceilings, providing just enough light to illuminate the high ceilings, keeping much of the room shrouded in a bleak darkness.
The pews were sparsely filled with somber people, each focused deep inside themselves. The room was weighed down with an overwhelming heaviness. The partitioners dotting the pews were praying for reasons only they knew.
David did his best to not attract attention as he moved through the room towards the confessionals in the corner. As he walked, he dropped his right hand into his pocket. Jessica's rosary beads clicked quietly as the smooth turquoise beads slid between his fingers.
Opening the door, the confessional was a dusty, claustrophobic space. An old candle flickered from a simple coffee table in the corner. Nearing the end of its life, the weak flame was barely enough to light the tiny closet. A simple chair sat in the middle of the room.
Stepping into the confessional, David dropped to his knees, making the sign of the cross. "Bless me Father, for I have si
nned. It has been nine months since my last confession." He glanced up at the barely discernible outline of the priest on the other side of the screen. It was late, and even the father's posture looked tired. Looking ahead at the flickering candle, David pulled Jessica's rosary beads out of his pocket.
"Tell me your sins, my son." The voice on the other side of the screen was exhausted. "I'm here to help.”
“Well, Father," David began, taking a moment to think through the hazy mass of thoughts drifting through his mind. He passed the rosary between his hands as he continued. "Honestly Father, since my wife passed away, I find myself questioning my faith in the Lord." David closed his eyes, tuning his ears to the foreign sounds of the hollow room. His shaky breathing bled into the pulsating silence of the confessional.
"I'm sorry for your loss, my son." The reply was quick, a mere automatic reflex. The priest stammered momentarily as he struggled to think of the next thing to say. “Why do you find yourself questioning God's wisdom?”
Drowning in the East River Page 4
