by S. L. Naeole
“I knew that pink; Erica loved that color, talked about it all the time when we first started going out. I thought I was saved and I tried to get her to help me, I called her name but it was like she couldn’t hear me. She just stood there until someone else showed up.”
“Mr. Branke,” I filled in.
“Yeah—I recognized his shoes. I thought that at least he’d help me, but I was wrong. He stood there like a zombie. I didn’t need to see his face to know that. I just…I felt it, which meant that if he was some kind of zombie or something, then that meant Erica was, too. And then like nothing, they started to move.
“They walked around me and picked me up and I remember thinking ‘wow, Erica’s pretty strong’. They dragged me to this huge boulder—it looked like one of those rocks we saw in geography class in ninth, remember?—and then they leaned my back against it and pulled me onto it. I couldn’t feel anything before then, and all of a sudden it was like I was being pulled apart.
“Erica held my feet, while Mr. Branke held my hands, but it’s not like it was necessary—I still couldn’t move. That’s when Sam came. When he looked at me, I knew why I was being held down. He didn’t say anything, just smiled at me, like we were buds or something—I didn’t even know he had moved until I felt myself hanging from Erica and Mr. Branke’s hands. Sam had hit me; he hit me so hard, the force broke the rock underneath me, and I thought that was it, I was going to die because my insides felt like soup and that’s never a good sign, you know?”
He stopped then to look at the innocuous grayish band that wrapped around his left ring finger. His finger twisted it, turned it around and around as his mind seemed to struggle to find the right thing to say.
“It’s strange what you think of when you think you’re dying. I saw Lark’s face in my head, and I thought how lucky I was to have had her, even if it was for only a little while. She was everything worth fighting for, everything worth living for…which is why it felt weird that I had completely given up ever seeing her again.
“I felt like such a jerk, like I didn’t deserve her, and that’s when I saw your face take over hers, and seeing you in my head…it made my heart start racing, like it wanted to jump out and just take off, and I felt so guilty. I mean, I understand why it happened—you’re my best friend, you’re the reason why Lark and I are together in the first place—but it still made me feel like everything that I had thought I knew about myself was wrong somehow.
“Lark had her mother turn me, she had changed me physically so that I could be with her forever, but all I could think about right then was what did all of that mean if the last face I saw before I died was yours?”
The woeful look on his face gave me pause, and I tried to console the obvious feeling of betrayal he must have felt then, but he patted my knee and shook his head.
“Don’t, Grace. Worrying about it now is pointless because I didn’t die. Sam continued to beat me. It was like a game to him, to see how far he could stretch this immortality of mine until I broke. But no matter what he did, nothing changed. I didn’t die, and after a while, it was like he got bored, and so the beatings stopped.
“But then the other one appeared.”
“Other one?” I asked, alarmed.
“Yeah,” Graham replied with a single bounce of his head. “Whenever Sam was around, even if he was wailing on me, he’d actually talk to me, you know? Like, use his mouth and say things. This one…this one didn’t; it only used thoughts. I couldn’t tell if it was a guy or a girl because I never saw who it was, and the voice in my head sounded like it was coming through an empty soda can or something, but just hearing it made my head hurt. It was like poison or something the way it would make me feel sick and dizzy afterward. And I couldn’t see anything when it talked; the only thing I could hear was what was in my head—everything else got blocked out.
“You want to know the most messed up part? That voice told me that what was happening to me was nothing personal. Nothing personal, can you believe that? The two of them together took turns, kicking and punching me like I was nothing, like it didn’t matter that I begged for them to stop, but it was ‘nothing persona’.
“They broke my back; I felt my neck snap twice. I was scared that I’d never feel my legs again, but like Robert had said, I healed. It was crazy, but I could feel my bones pulling back together, like a slinky or something. At first, everything fixed itself in a minute or two, but as soon as I was better, they’d start hitting me again, and with each beating the healing took longer and longer.
“I guessed it was because the beatings weren’t just lasting longer, they were getting more violent. I mean, I swear they almost tore my arm off, Grace. I felt my skin ripping, and you know what? It doesn’t sound like it does in the movies, like a t-shirt tearing, or celery breaking. It sounds like gum being popped—that’s what it sounds like; at least, it does to me. After figuring that out, it was pretty simple to work out why they were doing it.”
I felt my head cock to the side, my jaw falling loose as I asked him why. A sarcastic sort of snort slipped past him before he responded.
“Because they wanted you to think that I was dying. They were timing it, Grace. They were seeing how much I could handle, and how long it would take before I healed so that they could create the biggest impact on you. They wanted to hurt you.
“When the other angel was around, if he wasn’t…thinking to me, Sam would be arguing with him. Sometimes he’d ask why they couldn’t just kill me and pretend that I was still alive, but most of the time he just complained about you, about how much he hated you, how much he wished you had never been born. All I could think was why did he hate you so much?
“Lark won’t answer my questions about what happened; she’s still so upset by everything, and I don’t know why Grace. She and Ameila act like Robert’s still dead or something, and every time I ask why, I get the run around because they don’t want to tell me the truth. What’s going on?”
The tone in Graham’s voice had grown irritated, and the frustration that he felt was visible in the fists that he had balled in his lap. His jaw was clenched so tightly I could hear his teeth grinding against each other. I felt horribly pressed to tell him what he wanted to know, what I knew, but at the same time, I could barely understand any of it myself.
“Graham, you said that you were in a hole…when you were leaving to come to the field, did you see what kind of hole it was?” I asked, needing more information.
“I said it looked like a hole. After that first night, I saw that it was more like some kind of cave or something. It was dark, but not so much that I couldn’t see anything. Oh, and everything echoed.”
I smiled in appreciation and continued. “It sounds like you were in a sanctuary.”
“A what-uary?”
“Sanctuary. The angels have this place…it’s like their own panic room, where they can go to be away from everyone and everything. It makes sense that Sam would take you there. He knows that Lark would hear your thoughts no matter where you were…except in there because no one outside can hear what’s going on inside. That means that he probably had you close by.”
“It was kinda close, I guess. When I was in the car with Mr. Branke and Erica, I stared at the clock in the dash; the entire ride only took ten minutes.”
“Did you tell Lark this?”
He shook his head and sighed, his hand fidgeting with the dark metal band on his left-ring finger once more. “I told you; she won’t talk to me at all about this. She keeps saying that she doesn’t want us to get any more involved, but how can we not get any more involved? You’re my best friend, and hell, Robert’s her brother! You’ve gotta talk to me, Grace. Tell me what the hell is going on because I’m getting nowhere with her.”
I grabbed Graham’s hand and forced him to stop twirling the ring. He looked at what he had been doing and grinned sheepishly. “Graham, Lark’s upset, but I can’t tell you what’s going on with her because I don’t know. I know she bl
ames me for what happened, and I know she resents the fact that her call demands that she keep me safe. She’s obviously chosen to ignore it, which I suppose she views as only a temporary thing. It’s what I prefer anyway—I never wanted to come between her and her brother, ever.
“But I can’t tell you anything else, Graham. I’ve already screwed up in that department once and it’s come back to bite me in the ass—hard. I can’t afford to do it again.”
“Is that why Robert’s not here?”
His question forced me to stop and think about that. Was that why Robert wasn’t with me? Had my slip-up with Dad angered him? He’d said nothing the night Janice was found, which did little to ease my fears that perhaps that last kiss had been a goodbye that he couldn’t say.
“I don’t know. I don’t know why he’s not here. He said that he was going to find out what he could about what happened to Janice…he said he was going to talk to Lark-”
“Well, he hasn’t been around the other house, that’s for sure,” he cut me off.
“He doesn’t need to be around the house to speak to Lark,” I reminded him.
“Yeah, well, it’s not like Lark would tell me if she had spoken to him anyway. She and I haven’t really spoken much since that night. It’s been weeks, Grace, and the only thing she wants to do is…you know, it. Not that I have a problem with that, because it’s always great, it’s just that I miss talking to her. Like I said, she won’t tell me anything.”
“I don’t know what to say, Graham. Maybe you should be with her right now, instead of me…”
“No. I belong with you right now. Besides, in a few weeks I’ll be gone from this God-awful place so I’ve got to spend as much time with you as I can, right? Even if it means spending it in a hospital.”
And I was never more grateful for him being around than I was right now. It was draining, seeing the sorrow in Dad’s face, and watching him teeter on the edge of hope and hopelessness every time he spoke to Janice’s still body. Between trying to make sure that Dad didn’t pass out from exhaustion, Matthew was fed, cleaned, changed, and loved, and not freaking out about not graduating, I felt like I was a thousand-years-old.
“Come on, let’s leave him alone,” I said, turning around suddenly and walking out into the hallway.
Graham’s grip was sturdy and reassuring as I teetered from the dizziness of moving too quickly.
“Are you okay?” he asked, concern wrinkling his brow.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I haven’t eaten anything yet, and I’ve been up since five. Hey, shouldn’t you be getting home? You graduate tomorrow, remember?” I reminded him.
“Well, that’s a whole twenty-six hours away. We still have one more thing to do today.”
I was stumped as to what he meant when he took my hand and dragged me out of the hospital and towards his car. “You’ve got the sitter watching Matthew, right?”
“Yeah. I told her we wouldn’t get back until after ten.”
“Good.”
We drove listening to the radio play some of the songs that took us through high school. It felt good to laugh and cry and be silly for a little while, completely forgetting what was going on in the world until I saw where we had finally stopped.
I climbed out of the car and Graham grabbed my hand, dragging me through the grave stones towards a dip and a rise that led to one in particular, its vase filled with daffodils…her favorite flower.
“I don’t want to be here,” I argued vehemently.
“Grace, she’s your mom. It doesn’t matter what she did—or why—she’s always going to be your mom. You can’t stop loving her now just because you found out something bad about her.”
“That’s easy for you to say—the worst thing your mother’s ever done is shack up with some guy ten years younger than she is,” I threw at him.
“This isn’t about me, Grace. This is about you—you’ve never been one to hold grudges against anyone. You’ve always found the ability to forgive people—hell, you forgave me and I know that I had a much lousier reason for hurting you than your mom did—so why can’t you forgive her? Make peace with her while you have the chance. Life is short, Grace; don’t waste a single moment of it hating someone for something you can’t do anything about.”
“I…I can’t, Graham. You don’t just forgive someone for ruining your life before it’s even begun,” I said simply.
“She’s not just someone, Grace,” he implored. “She’s your mother, and she did what she did because she knew something that we could never understand. I might not have been able to hear everything that was said that night, but I do remember that if she didn’t do what she did, you wouldn’t be here, and I can’t hate her for that. I love her for that—I love her for having you because my life would’ve sucked big time if you weren’t in it, Grace.”
“It would have only sucked because you wouldn’t have met Lark,” I scoffed.
“That’s not true—if I’d never met Lark, I wouldn’t have known what I was missing—but I would’ve missed you even if I didn’t know you. You’re my best friend, Grace. You helped me through a lot of tough crap with my parents; you were there for me when no one else was.
“You cheered me on at the games even when I sucked, and you never expected me to be anything but your friend—you never expected me to be the hero, or the star, or the popular one. Yeah, if you hadn’t started dating Robert I would’ve never met Lark, but even if I had, who I would’ve been without you would’ve been someone completely different, and she would’ve wanted nothing do with me. Your mom gave me the best gift in the world, Grace. She gave all of us the best gift in the world.”
I wanted to believe him, I wanted to hear his words and let them be true, but it was impossible when I knew so much that he didn’t. “I hope you still feel the same a thousand years from now,” I said half-heartedly.
“God—a thou-a thousand—whew…I’m having trouble with that number. A thousand years?” he stuttered, looking at me with widened eyes and a slack jaw that looked about ready to fall off.
“What did you think ‘living forever’ meant, Graham?” I asked irritatingly.
“I’m eighteen—forever isn't exactly an official number…but a thousand? Is that possible?”
“Your wife is half-way there, Graham. Jeez, did you even think about any of this when you agreed to get married?”
“To be honest with you, I thought that turning was a great way to be all superhero-like and do the things that I’ve always wanted to do but was afraid that I’d get hurt trying. The fact that I get to have sex with Lark was also a bonus.”
“Graham…”
“Hey, I love Lark, okay? If I close my eyes and try hard enough, I’m pretty sure that I can see myself with her for a thousand years…maybe. But this whole marriage thing isn’t what I thought it would be. Everything’s changed—I told you, she doesn’t talk to me much anymore.
“Right now that’s okay, because I’ve got you, and the boys, and hell, even Chips, Dip, and Salsa hang around. But what happens when we’re in Florida? What happens when I start college and she’s doing…whatever it is that she does when she’s not pretending she’s in high school? Is the only thing we’ll have going for us gonna be sex?”
He shoved a distracted hand through his hair, the golden spikes crisscrossing into a disheveled mess as he sighed and stared at my mother’s headstone. “I didn’t know that this was going to happen, Grace. It feels like there’s this big rock tied around my neck and it’s pulling me down—and I hate to say it, but that rock is starting to look a lot like my wife.”
“You don’t mean that,” I started, but he gave me a look that said quite unequivocally that he did.
“It’s pathetic, isn’t it? I haven’t even been married a month, and already I’m complaining about it. I’m married to the hottest girl in the world, and every time I’m with her, I keep thinking about ways I can get away from her so that I can have a conversation with someone—anyone—and it doesn’t ma
tter what it’s about. I even had a conversation with Ameila about Jell-O once. Can you believe that? Jell-O!
“What am I going to do once I’m in Florida? Who’s going to sit down and watch Rocky Horror with me? Who’s gonna stay up with me until the sun rises to talk about farts? What am I going to do without you, Grace? What am I going to do when you’re not in my life anymore?”
A strangled sob got caught in my throat as I choked out two words that I had been rehearsing in my mind for weeks now, the only words that I knew I’d be able to say to him when this time came.
“You’ll live.”
GRADUATION
Sunday came way too quickly. I wanted to hide in my room and not emerge until summer was over, but I couldn’t do that to Graham—he was graduating in just a couple of hours and did not yet know if his mother and father would be attending, though I was pretty certain that Iris Hasselbeck would show up, if only to rub it in that her new boy toy was younger than Richard, which pained me because Graham didn’t deserve to witness that.
Instead, I waited on the couch in the living room, wearing a simple white blouse with the skirt that Janice had bought me for Christmas while Dad got ready. Matthew was in his carrier, his lids heavy after downing an entire bottle of formula.
“Okay, kids, let’s go,” dad announced as he hurried down the stairs dressed in a suit that looked so old, it looked stained with dust.
“Is that what you’re going to wear?”
His eyes lowered to his chest and then rose to meet mine. “Is there something wrong with it?”
“No. No, Dad, you look just fine,” I said with an encouraging smile. “Let’s go.”
He bent down to grab the infant carrier and together we walked outside. Janice’s little SUV sat outside in the driveway, and Dad took a moment to pause and stare at it before walking around and opening the door to his car. I followed, helping to keep the door open while he snapped Matthew in.
