Far From Home

by Megan Nugen Isbell

  “You have never been hotter than you are right now,” he began as my body continued its eager motions. “Knowing how badly you want it and knowing I can take all the time I want, just so I can continue to watch you like this.”

  “You’re mean,” I whimpered breathlessly. “Please, Jesse.”

  “Just be patient.” He kissed the tip of my nose and then sat above me, straddling me at the waist and staring down at me. The corners of his lips were curled up into a slight smile and the way his eyes pierced mine was almost more than I could take.

  His fingertip met the skin of my sternum and he traced down slowly, causing each muscle to twitch at his delicate touch until it stopped at the top of my jeans. I started breathing harder in anticipation and Jesse immediately noticed.

  “You really must learn some patience, Miss Regas,” he said softly with a seductive grin and then he undid the button and slowly pulled down the zipper. I knew he wouldn’t be able to hold out much longer, no matter how cool and collected he was trying to play it. His grin vanished then and the playful look from a moment before transformed to serious urgency as he began to tug at my jeans.

  Just then, the loud bellows of Rocky and Jasper cut through the quiet and we both stopped and looked towards the door.

  “Just ignore them,” he said a moment later, turning his attention back to me, but then the sound of the doorbell echoed through the house. We both froze again and looked at each other. No one ever came to Jesse’s unexpectedly. He lived too far out in the sticks for surprise visitors. The doorbell rang again and Jesse eased himself off of me.

  “What the hell?” he mumbled, finding his shirt from the floor and slipping it on. I pulled my pants back on and began fastening the buttons of my blouse again. He looked at me curiously and then motioned towards the door. “I’m gonna go see what’s going on. Wait here.”

  I nodded, but when Jesse left the room, I followed and stood against the doorframe as he approached the front door. He opened it and I waited.

  “Hello,” a deep voice began. I had no idea who it could be. No one came to Jesse’s without an invitation, let alone at 10:30 at night. “I’m Officer Delgado and this Officer Miller. We’re with the Kansas Highway Patrol. Are you Jesse Baylor, the son of Darryl Baylor?”

  “Yes. What’s going on?” With those words, I immediately walked over to Jesse, resting my hand on his back when I reached him. I looked out and saw two men in full police uniforms standing at the doorstep. Behind them was a middle-aged woman, who looked serious and nervous. My heart started to pound as I realized something had to be terribly wrong.

  “Can we come in?” Officer Delgado said and I could tell he was being careful with his words and tone.

  “Not till you tell me what’s going on?” Jesse didn’t yell, but his tone was stern.

  I watched the body language of the two police officers and the woman. They all looked incredibly uncomfortable.

  “I’m afraid we have some bad news, Jesse,” Officer Delgado began and I felt his hand squeeze mine so hard, I was afraid it would crush. “Your father and uncle have been in a car accident…”

  “What?” Jesse interrupted softly.

  “Your father and your uncle, Glenn Baylor, were in a car accident early this evening on Route 19. Your uncle is alright, but I’m sorry to inform you your father died in the accident.”

  I felt my stomach turn and my body froze. The words echoed in my ears and my eyes burned. I couldn’t have heard the officers correctly, but I knew I had when Jesse stumbled back into me before bracing himself in the doorway with his hand. He turned his head to look at me. His eyes locked with mine and his mouth moved slightly as if he was trying to say something. It was as if his voice was paralyzed and he reached for me. When the woman stepped forward and started talking, he had a firm grip on my hand and I didn’t think he had any intention of letting go.

  “I’m so sorry for your loss, Jesse,” the woman began. Her voice was kind, but I knew this was her job. She was trained to tell people their family members were dead. It was all a script. “My name is Mary Martel. I’m a social worker with the police department. I’m here to help you deal with this difficult situation. May I come in?”

  Jesse looked to me for guidance again, but I didn’t know what to do so I just nodded. Jesse looked back at Ms. Martel and nodded. They followed us into the living room. Jesse and I sat down on the loveseat and they sat on the couch. The silence was deafening and Jesse sat comatosely next to me. I looked at him discreetly and I was surprised to see he wasn’t crying.

  “Right now, your father is at Wesley Medical Center in Wichita, but you need to arrange for his body to be transported to the local funeral home here in Carver,” Ms. Martel started talking and then paused as she handed Jesse some pamphlets. His eyes darted down at the papers and then back up to Ms. Martel. “I know this is hard, Jesse.”

  I could sense Jesse starting to tremble next to me. Reaching over, I took his hand in mine and began stroking the top of it with my thumb while I rubbed his back with my free hand, trying to calm him or at least remind him that I was there.

  “The pamphlets are in case you need any help after the funeral has taken place. Many times family members are in such shock, they are able to function throughout the preparation and funeral, but when everything is over, they need help with their grief. I know it’s a lot to think about right now, but please, hold on to them and contact someone should you need anything.”

  The room grew increasingly silent and I could feel Jesse tensing up again. I continued stroking his back, but I didn’t think it was working.

  “Thank you,” he mumbled softly.

  “Do you have any family to help you?” Ms. Martel asked as she looked over to Jesse, who continued to stare back at her with an icy glare. “What about your mother? Grandparents?”

  “I haven’t seen my mother since I was two and my grandparents are dead. My Uncle Glenn is all I have.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Ms. Martel replied.

  “What about Glenn?” I finally chimed in. Jesse needed some good news and I prayed his uncle would be alright.

  “Glenn is going to be okay,” Officer Delgado answered. “He’s at Wesley as well.”

  “Can we take you up to the hospital?” Ms. Martel asked and Jesse shook his head.

  “No,” he answered softly.

  “Is there anyone you’d like us to contact for you?” she continued.

  “No,” he answered flatly again.

  The room grew quiet again and then Jesse looked at me for a second before turning back to the three strangers who were sitting in his living room.

  “You can go now,” he said abruptly.

  “We still have so much to talk about, Jesse,” Ms. Martel responded.

  “We don’t need to talk about anything else,” Jesse continued and I could tell he was trying to maintain control of his voice.

  “Please, Jesse. I’m here to help,” Ms. Martel pleaded softly until Jesse cut her off.

  “Unless you can bring my dad back, I don’t need your help. Please leave.” His voice was deep and serious and I saw Ms. Martel shift uncomfortably in her seat. The two officers stood up a moment later, eventually followed by the social worker.

  Jesse was staring down at the carpet as they started filing towards the front door. The officers left without looking back, wanting to leave just as badly as Jesse wanted them to, but Ms. Martel looked back as if she wanted to say something else, but didn’t and she followed the officers outside.

  When the door closed, it echoed loudly, and I’d never felt more alone than I did at that moment. Jesse was right next to me, but I knew he was really a million miles away. I didn’t know what to say and I glanced out of the corner of my eye at him. I saw a tear roll down his cheek and I watched as it splashed onto the floor.

  “I’m so sorry,” I finally said, my voice cracking. I wrapped him in my arms and he started to tremble. Softly at first, but then it transformed into an a
ll-out uncontrollable sob. As he shook, it was as if he was trying to purge himself of something. He rocked in my arms and my blouse was soaked within seconds.

  “No, no, no, no, no, no,” he whispered over and over, his face buried in my neck as he held onto me as if he would never let go. I held him tightly, not knowing what I could do for him. My heart was breaking as Jesse fell apart. Jesse, the one I’d always looked to for strength, now clung to me and I didn’t know what I could do to help him as he continued mumbling a sea of no’s into my ear. He wadded a clump of my hair into his fist and he kept pulling it with each no as if he were trying to mask the anger. It hurt, but I didn’t dare tell him. He needed me at that moment and I would do whatever I could for him. “He can’t be gone. There’s a mistake. There’s gotta be a mistake.” I knew he wasn’t talking to me and I felt my eyes fill with tears as he tried rationalizing the situation. I blinked and the tears fell as I realized the impact this devastating news was going to have on Jesse. It’d only ever been his dad and him. He’d been abandoned by his mother. There had never been anyone else and now there was no one. I tried for a split second to put myself in his shoes, but I quickly banished the thought from my mind after it literally made my stomach turn. That reaction had only been from a thought. I still had a family who loved me and supported me. In the blink of an eye, Jesse didn’t anymore and I started crying harder as I tried to figure out how I was going to help him through this.

  His sobs eventually calmed and were replaced with long, deep breaths and an occasional shudder as he tried to get himself together. When he finally pulled away from me, his face was a sloppy, wet mess. The whites of his eyes had been replaced with red and I was pretty sure mine had been too.

  “What do I do, Riley?” His voice was low and lost.

  He was looking to me for guidance and I paused not knowing what to say. He needed me to help him and I didn’t know how. I couldn’t let him know that though. I had to be strong, just as he’d always been strong for me. I knew we both needed help though. Jesse and I may be eighteen, but we didn’t feel much like adults at the moment.

  “I’m calling my mom. She’ll know what to do,” I said softly as I held his hand to my lips, kissing each of his fingers.

  Jesse didn’t protest. I knew he was looking for help just as much as I was.

  “Wait here,” I said gently and then walked back into Jesse’s room. For a moment, my mind drifted back to the fun we were having in this room a half an hour before. We didn’t have a care in the world, but everything had changed when the doorbell rang and I was angry. I was pissed. Jesse didn’t deserve this. No one deserved this, but especially not someone like Jesse. The kindest, most loving person I’d ever met was having his life ripped out from under him and it wasn’t right.

  I found my phone in my bag and with a shaking hand, I dialed my mom’s number. I tapped my foot impatiently and she finally picked up after the third ring.

  “Mom,” I cried, cutting her hello off at the first syllable. “Jesse’s dad’s been in an accident. He’s dead.”

  The line was so quiet, I was afraid she wasn’t even on the other end.

  “Oh my gosh,” she finally whispered. “Where are you?”

  “We’re at Jesse’s house. The police just came. What do we do?”

  “Come home now. Bring Jesse.” Her voice was urgent, but in complete control, which was something I needed to hear because I felt absolutely no control over any aspect of what was happening.

  I hung up the phone without even realizing I forgot to say goodbye and shoved it back into my bag. I went to his dresser and pulled out some clean clothes, stuffing them into his backpack, before going to the bathroom and getting his toothbrush. There was no way he was staying here alone tonight. I gathered our things and went back into the living room where he was still sitting. He was like a statue. He hadn’t moved since I left.

  I knelt down in front of him, taking my hands in his and he finally looked up from the carpet. He wasn’t crying anymore, but his eyes were vacant.

  “We’re going to my house,” was all I said to him and he didn’t fight me. Rocky and Jasper sat by the door looking confused and protective over Jesse. “Stay here for a sec,” I told him and he didn’t even attempt to move from where he stood. I went into the kitchen and filled the dogs’ dishes with food until it was heaping into a giant pile, then I refilled their water jug to make sure they’d at least be okay for a day or two. They had the doggy door, so they would be able to let themselves in and out. I didn’t want Jesse to have to worry about anything else.

  When I walked back into the living room, Jesse was still in the same spot, but he was kneeling and hugging both of his dogs. It was as if the dogs knew Mr. Baylor wasn’t coming back. I felt terrible leaving them here alone.

  “They can come too,” I said softly. I knew under the circumstances, my grandmother wouldn’t mind.

  “No. They’ll be fine here. They wouldn’t want to leave,” he said quietly and then stood up, following me out the front door.

  We drove in silence the entire way back to my house as I did my best to fight back the tears. My heart broke as Jesse stared out the window and I wanted to get us home as quickly as possible. When we pulled up onto the rocky driveway, I saw all the lights were on on the first floor, which was a rarity for nearly midnight. Inside, my mom was waiting. She was sitting on the couch, Jack beside her and my grandmother sitting in her recliner. I could tell my grandmother had been sleeping because she was still in her nightgown with curlers in her hair.

  My mom stood up the moment we walked in and immediately came to Jesse, wrapping him in her arms. My mom loved Jesse, she always had. During the past six months though, she’d grown especially fond of him. She loved him for everything he’d done for me and for how happy he’d made me. Jesse loved her too, almost like the mother he never had. I watched as my mother held him and even though he towered over her, he seemed so small in her arms. She whispered something in his ear and then led him into the kitchen. I wanted to follow them, but something told me to stay back, like he needed my mom at that moment and not me. I stared into the kitchen for a second and I could see Jesse sitting at the counter, his back towards me while my mom sat beside him. A felt a twinge of jealously that my mom was with him and I was not. I tried to shake it off though and turned my attention back to Jack and my grandma in the living room.

  Jack stood up and led me to a spot next to him on the couch. I was still getting to know him, but he seemed to really care about my mom and I was glad he was here.

  “I hope you don’t mind that your mother called me, Riley,” he began.

  “No, not at all,” I said softly.

  “I have a friend who works at Wesley and I called him to check on things with Jesse’s uncle.”

  “How is Glenn?” I asked anxiously. “The police told us he was fine, but didn’t say much else.”

  “He’s got a broken arm and some ribs, but he’ll be alright.”

  “Do you know what happened?”

  “No, I don’t, but we can head up to Wichita so Jesse can see his uncle.” I just nodded and then looked at my grandmother. She stared back with worried eyes. She eased herself out of the recliner and sat down on the couch next to me. She put her arm around my shoulder and I leaned into her as tears fell down my cheeks.

  “How is Jesse?” she asked softly as she turned to me and dabbed at the tears with a tissue.

  “I don’t know, Grandma,” I said honestly because that was the truth. I had no clue how Jesse was.

  As if on cue, my mother reentered the room and came over to where I sat.

  “I spoke with Jesse and he wants to wait till morning to head up to Wichita. He just wants to go to bed right now.”

  “We can’t wait till the morning,” I protested. “He needs to go see Glenn right now.”

  “This is not your call to make, Riley.” My mother’s voice was quiet and I could see she was gesturing towards the kitchen with her eyes, basically t
elling me to be quiet. “This is up to Jesse and this is what he wants.”

  I knew she was right. I didn’t know what Jesse was feeling right now. I needed to let go and follow his lead, even if I didn’t understand his logic.

  “What’s he doing now?” I asked quietly.

  “He’s upstairs getting ready for bed,” my mom answered and I immediately got up to go to him.

  I saw the light was on in the bathroom and the door was open a crack. I walked slowly, not sure what I would say to him when I saw him again. Carefully looking through the crack, my heart ached at what I saw in the reflection. Jesse’s hands were resting on the sink and his head was down. All I could see was the top of his dark hair in the mirror, but it was what I heard that broke my heart the most. Small whimpers escaped into the air and I could see his back muscles convulsing with each sob. I knew he was trying to hold it in, but I didn’t want him to hold it in. That’s what I was here for.

  I tried erasing the image I’d just seen of Jesse, so weak and sad, from my mind. I need to be strong for him, I kept telling myself. It was proving harder than I expected though, when he’d always been the strong one.

  I lifted my arm nervously and knocked lightly on the bathroom door with the knuckle of my pointer finger. The door moved a little and I saw Jesse’s posture straighten and he quickly wiped his face with the hand towel next to the sink.

  “Come in,” he said, his voice low and dry.

  I pushed the door open the rest of the way and walked over to him cautiously. Taking his hand, I brought it to my lips, kissing the back of it tenderly.

  “Can I get you anything?” I asked. I’d thought about asking him how he was doing, but I realized it was a stupid question.

  He just shook his head and then I saw his lower lip begin to tremble. He swallowed hard, but then he shook his head and he tried breathing in deeply to calm himself. Instead, a large hiccup escaped and he lost it. He started sobbing and he grabbed me, pulling me to him. He was shaking as he held me and I all I could do was hold him back and let him cry. I tried not to cry, but I couldn’t help it. I loved him and he was hurting.