by Willow Rose
"Let him see her. No mother can refuse to see her only child. She might even be lonely, missing him terribly but not wanting to swallow the pride it takes to come and visit."
"You think?"
She nodded. "You know how to find her?" She asked.
I sighed. Played with her fingers in my hand. Caressed them. Then I lifted them to my lips and kissed each and every one of them. "I think I do," I said. "I think she is with the one person who has loved her since she was a young girl. The same guy who took her to the prom, the same guy who never married someone else once he realized that Heather didn't love him the way he loved her and that she was about to marry someone else. The guy who has secretly admired her ever chance he got since. The same guy who has dreamed about her, that she would one day knock on his door and tell him that we had broken up and until then he has been amusing himself with young women with whom he had no intentions of keeping."
"I see him through your thoughts," she said with a light laughter. "Jim?"
"Exactly. That's the only person I can imagine she has stayed with all this time. But she hasn't told anyone I suspect. Her parents don't even know where she is. I know she hasn't been using her credit cards. I have checked them and there have been no transactions since she left. So I figure that she has to stay with someone who takes care of all that for her. Jim would do just that."
The sky was on fire the next morning as William and I drove off. It was Sunday so he had no school and I had no work. I hadn't really planned much and only told William that we were going to visit an old friend of mine. I didn't want him to be disappointed if Heather didn't turn out to be there after all. I didn't want to call Jim and check first either since I knew he would lie to me for Heather's sake. Because she had told him to.
The rising sun made the city look like it was burning, so bright was the light hitting the windows and buildings. I stopped for coffee at a gas station since I had been in such a hurry to go right after I returned from my hunt that I hadn't had time to have my morning coffee that Sarah usually made for me. It wasn't because we were in a hurry per se. Heather and Jim had no idea that we were on our way. I guess I just wanted to get going before I changed my mind.
William was eating a sandwich Sarah had made for him. "Well I guess you don't need anything," she'd said to me. "Since you've been eating all night, killing those poor animals out there in the swamp."
She joked about Aiyana and I being jaguars. I guess it was her way of coping with this big unbelievable thing, this secret that she had to keep. It was really a relief to me now that everyone knew where I was at night. Where Aiyana and I were. It made life so much easier on us. No more secrets, no more lies, no strange explanations or disapproving looks from Sarah. No more sneaking around.
William fell asleep as we left St. Augustine. Since Jim's father died four years ago and his mother shortly after, Jim had taken over his old childhood home. You could say that he never really left home. It wasn't a house really, more like a big ranch located in the middle of a great forest south of St. Augustine not far from Lake George. He had horses and cattle on the ranch. It was a dream of a place for a young boy like William who thought cowboys were the coolest in the world - after jaguars, naturally. So as we entered the ranch and drove up the long road leading to the main building I woke him up.
"Look at the horses on your right," I said and pointed.
He blinked his eyes and stared out the window with great anticipation. His eyes grew wide as he saw the horses start galloping in the pasture next to us because the sound of the car had startled them. The main building appeared in the distance and I felt my heart drop.
What if she isn't even there? I thought. What if he won't let us see her? What if she refuses to see William? I knew it was early on a Sunday but I also knew that Jim was an early riser. They had to be in his family he once explained to me. They were hunters and fishermen and wildlife people. They never slept in. So I knew he would be up. I just didn't know what to say to him, how to persuade him to let us see her.
If she was in fact here.
No. She had to be. There was no other place I could imagine her running off to. This was it. If there was ever going to be a chance to see her again, this had to be it. I smiled at William in the rear-view mirror. He looked at me suspiciously.
"What's wrong, Far?" he asked.
"Nothing. I’m just smiling at you. It's great to be on our own, just the two of us. Two guys out on a road-trip."
"Then why are you worried?" He asked.
I shook my head with a smile. I couldn't hide anything from him anymore. He saw everything, noticed every little change in my face, in my eyes. "I'm not worried," I said to shake it off. "Just been a while since I last saw this friend, so I’m a little excited I guess."
William shrugged and went back to staring at the horses. Splendid animals, majestic, grandiose. Running with their head held high, ears turned frontwards and their tails lifted. They were almost dancing as they slowed down once they realized we weren't posing any threat to them.
The main building came closer. The gravel underneath the car crunched loudly. I tried not to think about what I would say to her if I got the chance, or how I might behave around her. I knew only that I had to see her. I had to bring William to her to be with her while there was still time. I couldn't truly think of her death. It had the fullness of devastation, of disaster.
The sun shone above us from a clear blue sky when we parked the car outside the main building. I stared at the sky and let the sun warm my face.
The house was a mansion in the wild. Stylish yet raw. The maid opened the door when we knocked. She showed us into the grand hall. It was decorated with a hunter's prey. Heads of deer stared at me with empty black eyes, foxes with open mouths showing teeth just before the final moment. A stuffed cougar stood in the corner. A cougar much like the one that had crippled Jim's dad. William grasped onto my leg when he saw all the dead animals. I stroked his hair.
"Chris!" Jim's voice echoed in the hall as he came out to greet us. I took his hand and we hugged. Then he looked at William and paused. Something came over his face, like he was struck by some reality, by the misfortune of life. He forced a smile, but I noticed the grief in his eyes as he glanced upon the son he never had. Heather's son.
"This must be little William?" he said and leaned over to shake his hand.
"Not so little anymore," I said.
Jim kneeled in front of William. "How you look like your mother," he said.
"Except for the blond curls and blue eyes," William said.
Jim was almost tearing up. "Except for that," he chuckled. "It's incredible. The face, the nose even the eyes, not the color but something else. Something in them reminds me so much of your dear mother."
William smiled widely. He loved it whenever people said he looked like his mother. But very few did, very few saw the resemblance. Most people said he looked like me. But I saw it too, I saw Heather in him.
Jim rose and stood in front of me. He patted my shoulder. "It's been way too long," he said.
I nodded. "It has."
"Come on inside. I'll get you something to drink. Coffee?"
I took a deep breath to calm my nerves. My courage was failing me. I couldn't ask him about Heather while William was standing right next to me. "Yes please," I said.
"And I'd bet you would like a soda, right William?" Jim asked.
William nodded eagerly.
We sat in one of the living rooms by the fireplace. The maid brought coffee, a soda and a plate of cookies. William dove in. Jim brought out an old cognac. He had lost a lot of weight I noticed. He looked thinner, almost haggard. He poured the liqueur in small glasses and handed me one.
"I know it’s early," he said. "But this deserves a little glass."
I smiled and drank my coffee. Jim sat in a big chair. He looked like his father holding the glass, turning it, sniffing the cognac’s aroma before sipping it. His normally dignified look had taken a blo
w, it had faded. His eyes shone with desolation. Despair. He finished his drink and then looked at me.
"So how have you been?" he asked.
"Far? I need to go pee," William suddenly said.
"Down the hall on your right," Jim said. "Can't miss it."
"Just call if you need anything, okay buddy?" I said.
"Sure," he said before he left us.
I lifted my head and stared at Jim. He had poured himself another cognac. I still hadn't touched mine.
"You never answered my question," he said and leaned back in the beige sofa. "I asked you how you were. Is everything all right at home? How is Heather?"
"Let's just cut the crap," I said. "You know perfectly well why I’m here."
Jim put his glass on the table with a deep sigh. He hesitated, looked at me again, and then dropped his eyes to the floor. "I'm sorry," he said.
"Where is she?"
Jim's moist eyes met mine. "She didn't want me to tell you. Or else I would have. You know that, don't you?"
"Where is she, Jim?" I asked again while keeping an eye in the direction William had gone. I didn't want him to come out now.
"I am so sorry ..." Jim's eyes dropped again.
"What? Why?" My heart was pounding heavily now. What was he trying to tell me here? Why did he keep saying he was sorry?
"I should have called you. She made me promise to not do it. But I knew you'd want to say goodbye ... before she ... The doctor says she will not ..."
Jim paused and glanced at the stairs where the bedroom was. Where she was. I got a clear picture from his thoughts.
"She won't last through the night," I said. My voice was dull almost like a murmur.
Jim shook his head. "Her lungs are caving in," he mumbled. "She is out of strength. She’s hardly awake at all during the day. She’s in a tremendous amount of pain. The doctor keeps her on a heavy dose of morphine. There is nothing more we can do. I have been up all night debating with myself what to do. I couldn't let her die without contacting you. But again how can I deny a dying woman her only last wish? How could I break my promise to her?" Jim was sobbing now. "I love her goddammit. It's just not fair!"
I got up and went towards the stairs and stared up. She was up there in that bedroom. I felt paralyzed. I couldn't move or speak. She was up there and she was really dying. It wasn't just words or a thought or something that might happen in the near future. This was real. This was now. I had come too late.
All the small sounds surrounding me, Jim's crying, his thoughts, the wind blowing outside, the cicadas; everything became a hum in the background, irrelevant noise. I felt the room spinning and thought I was about to fall when something grabbed my hand. I looked down. It was William. The sight of him gave me my strength back.
"Come," I said to him and pulled his hand. "We're going to see Mommy."
William gasped with a small shriek. "Mommy's here?" He asked with a shrill.
"Yes," I said and held his hand tighter. "She is upstairs in one of the bedrooms. She has been here all the time."
William's eyes grew huge. "So I can see her? Here? Today?"
"No!" Jim suddenly exclaimed. He got up from the couch and walked towards us, limping on his prosthetic leg. "I’m sorry. But I can't let you go in there. I promised her that. She didn't want you to see her this way. She wanted you to remember her like she used to be. Before she became sick. I can't break my promise to her. I just can't do it."
"But Jim ..."
"No," he continued. "You listen to me. I know what it is like. I know what it feels like to want to hide from the world. My dad lived his last years and died in the library in this house. He never left the room after the accident that crippled him. He was too ashamed to be seen by us, by his own family. I've been through it as well. When I lost my leg I didn't want anyone to see me either. It's Heather's dying wish to hide. Let her at least have that. Let her die with her dignity intact."
I exhaled deeply. "Jim. You're my best friend and I have the deepest respect for you and your family and all your history. But up there lies my wife and William's mother. He has the right to see her one last time and so have I. So I am going to go in there now and you can't stop me. Shoot me if you want to - I'm going."
Jim dropped his head with a sigh. I turned and took William's hand. We walked up the stairs in silence.
Chapter 41
The hallway leading to the bedroom seemed endless. I held William's hand tight in mine. Just before we opened the door I kneeled before my son.
"This will not be easy, buddy," I said and swallowed hard to remove the lump of tears growing in my throat. "Remember that Mom is really sick and she might not look like Mom used to, okay? She might look very sick and feel really bad, okay?"
He nodded with great seriousness. "I know, Far."
"She might not be able to speak or even look at you. Are you prepared for that?"
He nodded again. "Yes. I just want to see her."
I closed my eyes for a few seconds and took in a couple of deep breaths before I put my hand on the handle and turned the knob.
We went into the dark room and closed the door behind us. The scent of medicine and human decay hung in the air. It mingled with the sound of her thoughts that I could now hear clearly in my mind. She was dreaming. Tears piled up behind my eyes. She was dreaming about William. She was holding him, hugging him, running with him, playing, laughing. She wasn't afraid; she was in a safe place. There was no sign of terror in her face.
She seemed so calm as we approached her in the dark purple light coming from underneath the heavy curtain. A small night lamp was lit in the corner but gave almost no light to the room. Her eyes were closed, her mouth covered with a breathing mask, tubes attached to monitors. She was so tiny, so thin. Her long blond hair framed her pale face making her look like a porcelain-doll. I could see all of her veins through the skin on the arms that were over the covers. If her chest hadn't moved every now and then I would have assumed she was already dead.
We moved closer to her and William reached out and touched her face gently with his fingertips. His eyes were brave as he spoke to her with a small still voice.
"Mom? Can you hear me? It's me. It's William. I have come to see you. We finally found you."
He looked up at me like he wanted me to do something, make her answer, make her talk to him. Tears were running down my cheeks. I put my arm around William's shoulder and pulled him closer. He was crying now too. I kneeled beside him. I grabbed Heather's colorless hand and caressed it with my fingers. I thought about all those things I wanted to say, that I wanted to ask her. What happened to us? How could we have let this happen? I am sorry for not having done more for you. I should have been there more, I should have done more, I should have stopped you, somehow ... But it was too late for all of that. Instead I kissed her hand.
"I know you don't believe me," I said. "But I did love you. I loved you a lot."
I felt William's arm around me. Then we broke into tears and cried in silence for a long time. Finally we let go of all the pain and agony.
"I want to stay here tonight," William said later. We were in two chairs that the maid had brought into Heather's room for us. William was lying with his head in my lap. We had been watching Heather for hours hoping in case she woke up. "Can we do that, Far? Can we stay here all night?"
"I don't think so, buddy."
"I really want to."
"Why?"
"Cause I want to be here when she wakes up."
I sighed deeply. "She might not wake up again, buddy," I said with heavy voice. "I think it is time we say goodbye to her."
"No!" he exclaimed. William sat up and looked at me. "Don't you see it? She is just sleeping. Just like Snow White remember? Everybody thought she was dead too but then the prince kissed her and she woke up." William was crying again now. Tears were rolling down his cheeks. "All you need to do is kiss her, Far."
I shook my head while crying. "No son. It's over. Listen to me.
This is real. Your mother will not make it through the night, the doctor said. She is going to die. Look at her. She is already gone. She is already dead, William. I am so sorry but that's the way it is. I can't do anything to help her. I really want to believe me, but I can't."
I stopped and gasped. I was almost hyperventilating. It broke my heart having to tell him this. But he needed to know the truth. I had let him believe this fairy-tale for too long. I hated myself as I saw hope slowly ooze out of my son. It left nothing but despair on his young face.
"But Far ...?"
"I am so sorry, buddy. I am so terribly sorry." I cried and thought about my own mother. She had looked just like that before she died. I remembered trying to stay up all night the night she died, fighting the heavy eyelids until I gave in to the demanding spirit of sleep. I fell asleep and when I woke up she was gone. My dad was crying at her side. I remembered the desperation, the despair of having failed to stay awake in these last crucial minutes of her life. The remembrance of that feeling changed something inside of me as I stared at Heather. A sort of shift took place. I somehow regained a hope, and in that same instant, I made up my mind.
Chapter 42
I TALKED TO JIM and he let us stay at his house for the night. The maid made a bed for us in the bedroom next to Heather's. We barely ate anything nor did anyone speak. We spent the rest of the day by her side. Jim and William shared stories about her and every now and then one of them broke down in tears while the other acted as the comforter. I withdrew behind the curtains and sat at the windowsill staring at the forest.
As the sun slowly began to set behind the thick trees I told William that it was time for bed. The doctor had been there shortly before and told us that there was no change in her condition - that she might go tonight or maybe in the morning.
"But Far. I don't want to go to sleep. I want to stay here with her," William argued.
