by Jolene Perry
The day passes in a haze. By the end of the school day, my brave, happy face is gone. I’m thankful swimming is over, because it’s the first day in a long time that I know even being in the water won’t make me feel better.
I walk into Mr. Carlson’s classroom.
“Jameson, good to see you.” Mr. Carlson says from behind his computer.
“I finished my final government paper and wanted to hand it in.” I weave through the desks to get to his chair.
“Oh, great.” He takes it from me, and stares at my face. “You look terrible.”
“Thanks.”
“Why don’t you take a seat and tell me what’s going on?”
“You want a list?” I chuckle, and it hurts my chest.
“Yeah, I want a list.”
I sit and stare at him for a moment. The room is quiet. The kind of quiet you can only have when there’s a lot hanging in the air.
“Well, my parents split, but I think you know that already.”
He nods.
“That’s still a mess. And Sky…my…”
“Oh, yes.” He smiles. “The gorgeous one. She came to a meet a while ago, right?”
Knives slice through my chest. “Yeah.”
“What happened?”
“She grew up in a small town in Alaska as part of a clan, a native corporation.”
He nods again.
“She…uh…” I just need to get it out. “She has a daughter that she didn’t tell me about.”
“That’s big.” I’m sure he’s trying to play it cool, but I can see a look of surprise cross his face.
“That’s not all.” Can I even continue this? Saying it out loud isn’t helping, it isn’t clearing anything up. It’s just bringing it all to the surface again, like dragging my heart over sandpaper.
He sits back in his chair and continues to watch me.
“There’s apparently an issue over whether or not her aunt will be allowed to raise the child. Her aunt wants to, and I think Sky wants to grant her aunt custody, but we never finished our discussion. We both yelled and I ended up breaking my phone. Her daughter’s also the chief’s son’s kid, and he didn’t get her pregnant in the nicest way, either.” What a lame way to say she was raped—raped and put in this horrible situation.
“I’m guessing they’ll want her to stay there. Maybe have her marry the father to keep the baby in the village?” Mr. Carlson asks, leaning over his desk.
What? “I…I don’t know.” His words hit me hard. Is that even a possibility?
“I know that some clans are closer knit than others, and in order to preserve their heritage, most will do whatever it takes to keep a member in the village and part of the clan, especially a direct descendant of the chief.” His voice trails off, probably reading my reaction. “I mean, when it’s okay with everyone involved…” Now, he’s backpedaling.
“I have to go.” I feel helpless, angry, frustrated. If she shared any of this with me, maybe I could have helped…maybe. Oh wait, now I get it. I’d just end up making things worse, right? How can you make amends by bringing your new boyfriend into the mix? It’s simple, you can’t.
I jump up and head for the door. Will I even know what happens to her? Or will she just disappear—gliding out of my life the same way she glided in?
“Jameson!” Mr. Carlson calls behind me. “Come back any time you need to talk, okay?”
I wave as I step out of his classroom and head to my locker. Will Sky really marry Gunnar? And Gunnar might actually want custody of the kid? The whole thing’s such a mess. Shouldn’t her brother be stepping up or something? Wait a minute. Didn’t Sky say something about being disappointed when her brother didn’t stand up for her? And Gunnar doesn’t deserve that child, and now he might want to keep it? Would Sky even attempt to be with Gunnar after what he did to her? Would she do it for the sake of her daughter in order to keep the baby as part of the clan’s shared heritage? The whole thing seems crazy.
The puzzle pieces are starting to fall together, but the end result doesn’t make sense. Or maybe it’s a reality I’m just not ready to accept.
I look up and see Sarah at the end of the hallway, her back against the wall, looking down. Eric is standing over her, his hand resting on the locker above her head. Perfect, I’ve interrupted a nice, intimate moment between the two of them.
Suddenly, Eric’s fist slams into the locker above Sarah’s head, and she winces, crouching down. What the hell?
“Eric, please…don’t…” Her voice comes out in a whimper as she wraps her arms protectively around her head.
I drop my books and sprint down the hallway, tackling Eric to the floor. He’s broader than me, but I’m faster allowing me to get a few hits in. Our arms are around one another. I know I’m going to get hit a few times, but I don’t care. I welcome it. There’s yelling and screaming in the background, but it all blurs together. I’m going to hurt Eric as much as I can, while I can. Then someone is holding my arms, and I’m not strong enough to break free as I’m pulled off of him.
Matt has one of my arms, and Mr. Carlson has the other. The Principal and the wrestling coach have Eric. Words are spoken, but I don’t pay attention. My ears are thundering as the blood rushes to my head. I can’t catch my breath. I have no idea what’s going on. I finally relax, and they let me go. I pause for about two seconds before taking one last swing at Eric. I connect with his nose in a satisfying crunch that sends another shot of pain up my arm.
Immediately, Matt pulls me back as the principal tries to guide Eric further down the hall away from me.
“What happened?” Mr. Carlson asks, his voice gruff.
“He threatened Sarah.” Matt is still restraining my arms. When I spit to clear my mouth, blood spurts everywhere.
“Is that true?” the principal asks, looking at Sarah.
I stare at her. Her eyes go from me to Eric then back to me. “Yes, that’s right.”
The principal point his finger at me, saying, “This does not get you off the hook, Jameson.”
“I don’t give a shit.” What’s gotten into me?
“Very well.” He looks down the hall. “You.” He points at Eric. “My office, now.”
The principal looks back at me. “I’m calling your mom. You’re suspended for three days and I’ll speak with the vice principal to see if we’re going to allow you to walk at graduation.”
“Understood.” After what I’ve been dealing with, nothing the school can do to me even matters.
“I want you off school grounds immediately,” he says, looking over his shoulder as he turns the corner, following Eric to his office.
“Yes, sir.” I salute, walk down the hall in the opposite direction from Eric, pick up my books and head for the door.
“Jameson!” Mr. Carlson shouts.
“I’m done.” I don’t look back. My hand hurts, my face hurts, and I still didn’t fix anything.
“Jameson!” Matt jogs up to me. “What happened, man?”
“He was threatening Sarah.” I keep walking.
“Yeah, but…I’ve never seen you like that before.”
“Me, either.” I stop at my car. “See ya, Matt.”
“Yeah, see ya.” Matt waves as I pull out of the parking lot and head home.
As I’m driving, my phone rings. I keep using my shirt to wipe my face and now it’s covered in blood. Mom’s going to have a fit. I look at my caller ID—it’s Mom. Oh, perfect. I drop the phone in the passenger seat without answering. I’ll deal with that in a minute.
As soon as the phone stops ringing, it starts again. It’s Mom again. The principal must have dialed fast.
I pick up the phone. “I know I’m in trouble. I know I’m stupid. I promise it won’t happen again.”
“Jay?” I can hear that Mom is crying. “Your dad’s in the hospital.”
TWENTY-SIX
I learn a few things while talking to Mom on my frantic drive to the hospital, only one of which I remember. D
ad had a heart attack. When I pull up to the hospital, I check my reflection. My face and shirt are covered in blood. I rummage around in my bag and find my gym shirt. Not the cleanest, but smelly is better than bloody. I wipe my face off again, and slide it on. I catch my reflection in the rearview mirror. My eye is already starting to swell…oh well. I grab my phone and keys and run into the building. The antiseptic hospital smell overpowers my sweaty shirt, easy.
I jog to the receptionist. “Luke Clares, please.”
I take his room number and start running down the hall. More than one person looks at me like I’m crazy. I must still have blood on my face. When I come to Dad’s room, I stop. Am I allowed to just walk in? Is he okay? I can’t imagine my dad in a hospital bed. I can’t imagine it…I don’t want to imagine it…
“Jameson.” Mom puts her arm around me from behind, her hand on the door. “Ready to go in?”
“Uh…”
She opens the door and we step inside. Dad is sitting up watching TV. Okay, not so bad. There’s one small window in the room, but the shades are drawn against the bright sun. Dad is hooked up to all sorts of monitors, which throws me. But he looks like he’s okay.
“Hey, son.” He smiles.
“Hey.”
“What happened to your face?” he asks, setting down his cup of water to stare at me. Mom leans forward and gasps.
“You’re in a hospital gown and we’re worried about my face?” I try to laugh.
Mom looks up and me and lets out a sigh. “Jameson.” Her voice is thick with disapproval.
“Eric was standing over Sarah, he punched his fist into the locker above her, and she looked scared.” Dad will understand. I keep eye contact with him.
“So, you…” Mom prompts.
“Jumped on him,” I say, with a shrug.
Mom slumps, but Dad smiles. I smile back until I remember that I’m mad at him. Wait a minute. Mom and Dad are in the same room. It’s just the three of us. No one’s yelling for a change, and it feels really good.
“I’ll be out of here in a day or two.” Dad’s voice is gruff. He sounds like he doesn’t understand why he can’t just walk out of here now.
“So, you’re going to be okay?” I can’t believe I’m asking these words. And they mean something. Not okay as in feelings, but okay, as in alive. I can’t believe I’m standing here talking to him in a hospital room. I wish one thing in my life felt normal.
“I’ll be okay.” He nods.
“So, what about this fight?” Mom sits, crosses her legs and purses her lips.
“I’m suspended for three days and they’re going to tell me tomorrow or the next day if I can walk at graduation or not.” And once again, saying these things out loud end up making me feel worse instead of better.
“Oh, Jameson,” Mom says. Her voice is an odd mix of sadness and frustration. “What’s going on?”
“Too much to think about.” And I don’t want to get into all of it again. I flop into a chair.
“How’s Sky?” Dad asks.
Really, a dagger or a knife would be less painful. “We, uh, got in a fight. She’s up with her family, her clan or whatever, and I don’t know when she’s coming back down.” I stare at the floor. Yep, saying it out loud definitely makes it worse.
“I thought it was just for a couple of weeks?” Mom’s gaze is intent. We haven’t spoken about this.
“Well, I guess there are…complications.” That’s a nice way of describing what’s really going on.
“I’m sorry.”
“And today you broke a guy’s face to protect Sarah. Is that right?” Dad asks.
Why, oh why, does he feel the need to point out the obvious? “Anyone would have done it.”
“Life’s confusing, isn’t it?” I can feel Dad’s eyes on me, but I don’t look up.
“Yeah.” I have to admit he’s got a point.
“I really screwed up, Jameson.” His voice is quiet.
My head snaps toward him.
“I’m sorry, son.”
I nod. I’m still not ready to make up with him…not yet…not while my head’s such a mess.
“Honey, your hand.” Mom is staring at my lap.
My hand is swollen and turning purple.
Dad laughs. “Well, I’m glad I wasn’t on the receiving end of that one.”
“I’m pretty sure I broke his nose.” I hold in a smile. Hitting Eric felt really good. I know Dad will appreciate it, even if I get more disapproval from Mom. Then I realize I want Dad to be proud of me.
“I think we need to take you to the ER.” Mom stands up and starts for the door waiting for me to follow her.
I stand up and step toward Dad’s bed.
“I’m fine, son. I promise. Go and get that hand looked at.” He reaches out and pats my arm. Dad and I are going to be okay.
“Hey,” he whispers.
Mom’s holding the door open.
“You and Sky?” He raises an eyebrow, still whispering.
He wants to know if we’ve had sex. I can tell by the look on his face. “It’s not about that, not with her.” I shake my head.
Dad’s face turns serious again. “Well, it’s nice to know you learned that lesson earlier than your dad.”
I’m not sure what to say.
“I’ve really missed you, Jay. I love you, son.”
Dad and I don’t usually talk like this. “Love you, too.” I look at the floor as I turn to leave the room. Yep, we’ll definitely be okay.
But him asking me about Sky brings her right back to the surface—where she hurts me the most. How much I love her hits me as I step out the door, bringing a smile to my face. But as soon as the door closes, how much I miss her crushes me again. Is there an end to this? Is there a new beginning? I have no idea. It’s hard to know when we’re not even talking to each other.
Three hours, two x-rays and one flirtatious nurse later, I’m in a cast for a broken knuckle and metacarpal. I didn’t know I even had a metacarpal. AP Biology and cat dissections weren’t high on my priority list for senior year. Oh, and a bottle of painkillers, which is probably the only way I’m going to be able to sleep tonight. Part of me wants to stay here with Dad and part of me just wants my Vicodin and my bed. Mom takes my prescription bottle and hands me three pills.
“Really?” I laugh.
“You haven’t been yourself, Jameson. I’m worried about you.” Mom looks sad, and tired.
Guilt washes over me. I pull Mom into a hug with my good arm and we stand in the hallway of the hospital. I want to ask her about Dad. Are they getting along? What can I do to help?
“Are you okay to drive yourself home?”
“I’m okay.” I pause. “You’re staying here then?”
Mom smiles. It’s the most genuine smile I’ve seen from her—aside from the afternoon she spent with Sarah and Sky. “I’m staying here. And you know you’re grounded indefinitely. No phone, and no leaving the house without permission.”
I’m about to ask how I’m going to talk to her if I can’t use the phone, but it’s probably best to leave it alone.
***
I think about calling Sky, but I don’t feel like I can. I’m not ready to apologize, and I’m definitely not ready to forgive. I just want someone to talk to. But I know that I’d just be using her. I start to dial Sarah’s number and then it hits me that Sky was right. There are unresolved issues with Sarah floating around, and I need to take care of them. But I don’t know how to do that, aside from what I’ve already done—especially after today. Ha…today. The day when Mr. Carlson made the horrible point that Sky might be staying in her village to marry some asshole, or that she might not be able to leave. I got suspended for fighting. I’m grounded indefinitely. And I actually don’t care. There’s not a thing in the world I need to do right now. Sitting in my room, closed off from the world sounds about perfect. And even though I know I’m torturing myself, I turn on my computer to check email.
Nada.
Great. I don’t realize how much I hoped for something, until there was nothing.
I need a shower. Crap, now I have a cast. I stumble into the kitchen and wrap it in saran wrap. I shuffle into my bathroom and let the hot water pelt down on me.
My face looks terrible. One eye is already purple and swollen. My lip is cut and twice its normal size. At least, I won’t have to go to school for a few days. Even if my face is still in shades of purple and yellow when I go back, it won’t be as swollen.
I get dressed in pajama pants and hear someone knock on my door. Sky? But she’s gone, for who knows how long. I pull back the shade. It’s Sarah.
I open the door.
“I heard about your dad.” Her large blue eyes look up at me.
“He’ll be okay,” I answer.
“That’s what my mom said.” She rubs her hands on her shorts a few times. “Your mom called.”
“Uh, I’m grounded.”
She laughs. “I figured that.”
We stand on either side of the door.
“Why don’t you put your shirt on, and I’ll come sit with you.” Her eyes dart everywhere, but on me. It’s so unlike her.
I laugh and step back. “Whatever, Sarah. We swim together, and you see me in less than pajama pants almost every day.”
She doesn’t look at me, just sits on the floor in front of my bed. She leans against the frame, pulling her knees to her chest. Her chin rests there, and she stares out my window into the backyard.
I slide on a t-shirt and sit next to her.
“How’s your hand?” She looks at my cast.
“Broken.” Now, it seems kind of funny. “Did you know you have metacarpals?”
“Yes.” She laughs. “They’re bones, Jamesy.” Her voice is the same sweet, little girl voice she’s always had.
“Yep, in your hand.” I nod. The medicine is making me feel funny. “So, what brings you here at this late hour?” I’m trying to keep my tone light. I have no idea how well I do. Even my lips are starting to feel numb…that’s funny.
