The Wish

by Eva LeNoir

  After a beat of silence, she stood, clapped her hands, ordering us into a group hug.

  It was awkward, to say the least, but then she placed her wrinkled hand on my face like a real grandmother would have, before dropping wise advice my way.

  "Marlon Brooks, let me tell you something," she started, her gaze steady, her brown cataract eyes serious, "You are a good man, pure of heart, and it's a rare quality for a person in your social standing, you get what I'm saying?" She asked, pausing, waiting for an answer.

  I nodded and although I didn't think I was any better than the next guy, I knew not to contradict her.

  "Never be ashamed of love, Marlon. To have the capacity of giving away your heart says more about you, than it does about those who break it. To be able to feel pain from heartbreak?" she continued, never wavering, "It means you've given the ultimate sacrifice. Never be ashamed of that, son. Never walk away from that. Take pride in the love you give."

  Closing my eyes for a brief second to stave off the burning behind my lids, I nodded and vowed I would tell Jaidyn everything I felt as soon as I saw her again.

  "I promise, I will," I told her, choked up by my confession.

  "Good. Now give me a hug and let me walk away with my pride and no tears. I've given all the advice I've got," she said, hitching her chin up and patting me on the cheek before turning on her heels and walking out without an actual goodbye.

  "Thank you so much," Talia whispered as she walked out behind her grandmother, folder in hand, "I'll keep you posted."

  As they both left my office, I stood there, stunned. My chest aching with the impeding loss of a woman who made so many people feel better.

  In the hall, I could hear her saying her goodbyes to Luca and Ethan, then to Mark who didn't hide the hitch and sadness in his voice.

  She would be missed. By every person whose heart she touched.

  Chapter 44

  Jaidyn

  Jerusalem was different from anything I'd pictured in my mind. I didn't realize I had stereotyped an entire country's inhabitants until I found myself in the Old City, the City of David. Men in traditional attire and women in western clothes blended together in the ancient streets. In one glance, I could feel both appropriately dressed and disrespectful with my simple jeans, burgundy V-neck sweater, and black boots. It was the most intriguing thing about this city, the juxtaposition of their ways of life. As the epicenter of the three main religions, everyone seemed welcome, every religion and every culture. However, I could feel a definite shift between modern Jerusalem and the Old City. Where one felt lighthearted and youthful, the other unearthed a particular tension that bore witness to two-thousand years of conflict in the heart of the Middle East. The cultures co-existed but under the watchful eye of authority.

  Arriving at the gates of the Western Wall, or Ha-Kotel Ha-Ma’aravi in Hebrew, was indescribable. Eyal, our local guide and driver for the duration of our stay, made sure we had everything we needed. He explained when we were lost and gave us privacy while we were visiting.

  I wasn't raised in a religious household, neither my father nor my mother had been much for going to church or even praying for any reason. I was certain my father believed in a God, preferring to communicate with him in his own way, on his own time.

  Me, I didn't believe. I recognized the beauty of faith, the trust it invoked, the love it awakened. All of these things made me respect the act of believing but, personally, I couldn't bring myself to attach my existence to that of a higher power. I supposed I had science and facts to fill that need.

  But those gates summoned a feeling deep inside of me that I didn't even know existed. The entrance to a place so sacred, to a place where men and women were willing to sacrifice their lives for the right to worship at its feet.

  I was humbled to walk through those gates, needing to take a deep breath before crossing the threshold with the golden lyre bearing witness.

  "Can you feel it," my father asked, bringing his hand over his shoulder to touch mine where it lay on the handle of his wheelchair.

  I didn't need to ask to know what he meant; I could feel something akin to comfort that I didn't know I needed. I could feel an awareness that hadn’t been there before. I could feel a sense of community even though I was an outsider. I could feel…something.

  I squeezed his hand, unable to put into words what the heat in my heart meant.

  "Everyone that comes to the Western Wall, has hope, JaiJai, or else they wouldn't be here." In these lucid moments, it was difficult to remember that he was sick. That he was dying.

  And maybe, the feeling I had was just that, hope.

  Hope that he'd get better.

  Hope that he'd live long enough to see me married, to meet my children.

  Hope that I wouldn't have to see myself deteriorate in this way.

  Hope that all would be fine.

  As we neared the sacred wall dating back to the Byzantine period, I let my gaze touch the numerous people that had come from all over the world as they faced this ancient wall and slipped tiny pieces of paper between the rocks.

  My father had asked me to read the book he'd bought a couple of years ago about the history of the Western Wall or what many Latin languages called the Wailing Wall. The Europeans had baptized it such, on account of the mournful vigils in front of the relics, the ancient rocks that used to be the Sacred Temple. But since nineteen-sixty-seven, when the wall returned to the Israeli sovereignty, the need to wail was no more. The Sacred Temple had returned, or at least a part of it.

  But what I'd read in a book couldn't prepare me for the experience. The heavy presence of belief, of faith, of love for an invisible, unknown entity. It was inconceivable to me, unbearably difficult to understand yet, I respected it.

  Rolling Dad to a stop, we took our time feasting on the view before us. The architecture was unique, a stamping of each religion throughout the city.

  The tallest of all being the Tower of David, where we were scheduled to see a show that night in the park, then the Dome of the Rock with its iconic golden dome shining down on the holy city, and of course the Western Wall with the unending strew of visitors looking to make their own wishes.

  “Can you believe how long all of this has been here? Three? Four thousand years?” Dad asked rhetorically, remembering the recent books he’d listened to on audio.

  “Well, not all, some were rebuilt, right? Like the Dome over there?” I’d read a part of the guidebook to him, explaining there had been two previous temples before the Dome of the Rock. One built by Salomon and the other by Herod.

  “The meeting of the three religions,” he murmured to himself as he looked out, contemplating the scene in front of us, the rolling waves of people coming and going.

  "I never knew your faith ran so deep, Daddy," I breathed out, the moment too personal to share with the others around us.

  "It doesn’t, baby doll, not really. But this, it's more than religion. It's immortality. Just imagine," he started, staring at the only high standing wall, "over two thousand years ago, a man stood on top of the first temple," he pointed with his finger toward the top of the southwestern corner of the wall, “and sounded his trumpet to announce the Shabbat. To let everyone know that it was time to close up and observe their rituals." Shaking his head in complete awe, he turned to me with a blinding smile, revealing the handsome young man beneath the time-worn feature of the man he was now. "All this time, JaiJai, all his time and that tradition, albeit modernised, is still there."

  I was afraid he was having another episode, maybe he was thinking of something else, his mind wandering to the past.

  “What do you mean?” I asked, not familiar with the different religions to understand his awe.

  “Shabbat, Friday nights, they ring the siren to remind people to close up their shops and celebrate,” he said, then looked me in the eyes and said, “we’ve lost that kind of devotion, our only God is green and is kept in the banks.”

  "Daddy, we sh
ould go back," I started to pull him away, but he stopped me with a hand grabbing mine on the chair’s handle.

  "Life never dies, baby doll, even after we're gone."

  I just stared at him, my eyes brimming with tears. This was another lesson for me, another way for him to help me accept his death.

  "Yeah well, you're stuck with me for at least another two years so don't get all emotional on me now, Daddy," I told him as we made our way to the wall, and we sat there in silence, contemplating our lives. And our deaths.

  He was quiet after that, retreating into his own thoughts.

  Eyal came over to me, reminding me that women were on one side of the small partition while men went to the other.

  Taking Dad's slip of paper, I kissed him on the top of his head, “See you in a few,” I told him, watching him leave for the other side.

  I waited in line behind the others, some sitting in chairs, others taking pictures. One woman was whispering to the wall, her face mere millimeters from the rocks.

  When it was my turn, I stepped as close as I could to the wall and placed my palm over the granite that had seen countless other hands, heard countless other prayers, accepted countless other wishes on tiny pieces of paper. I thought I’d just offer them both and walk away but I couldn’t.

  Just barely under my breath, I voiced the wish most dear to me, taking a chance in the holiest of places.

  I pushed Dad’s slip of paper in between two slabs of rocks before doing the same to mine, lingering a few seconds as if it could help make it come to life.

  It was difficult to pull myself away, as though walking away would destroy my prayer, set it on fire and reduce it to ashes. When I was finally able to leave, I made my way to the common area, the last few minutes bringing me a sense of hope that maybe, just maybe, Daddy would be okay.

  As I waited in the cool breeze of December, I remembered that there were things to be thankful for in this life. It wouldn’t always be easy but Dad had been my Western Wall my entire life. He’d been my hope and my protector. My past and my future. He’d been the only one standing when everything else fell to pieces.

  “All set,” Eyal said, startling me from my reveries.

  “Great! Thank you, Eyal,” he’d been a tremendous help so far as without Marlon it would have been impossible for me to take Dad to the wall myself.

  “Bekef, Miss Hughes. Where to now?” I recognized the Hebrew he’d used since I’d been thanking him repeatedly since we’d arrived and he’d always answered the same thing back, with pleasure.

  “Back to the hotel, please. Dad will nap before we eat at the restaurant you suggested and then we’ll see the show at the Tower of David.”

  Once back at the hotel, I sat on the balcony with a glass of cold white wine, listening to the sounds of life below. People laughing, everyday traffic passing by. Children crying and yelling with joy.

  It all made me miss Marlon. Especially in moments like these, the unwinding hours, the lonely hours.

  The hours we’d make love.

  My hours with the man I was quickly falling head over heels in love with and not caring about the consequences.

  Chapter 45

  Marlon

  I needed to speak with Jaidyn, hear her voice, sooth my ache. Millie would be fine, I knew that. What I also knew was that I missed Jaidyn, I missed having her by my side every day. I missed laughing and talking, telling secrets, at least those I could tell her. I missed her warmth, her light.

  I missed her.

  But we had another problem. One that pissed me off more than anything.

  Someone had called animal control about Liberace, informing them that I had an illegal animal squatting at my downtown Los Angeles apartment. For the life of me, I couldn’t figure who it could be. No one, apart from the closest people in my life, knew about Libs.

  The building concierge had notified me that they had come by asking to speak with me but that I was out of town. They left with the promise of returning. With Libs at Emma’s it would be the perfect time to show them inside, prove that I had no such animal.

  At first, I thought it could have been someone in the building, but I highly doubted it. The only time Libs came out was when we spent time at the beach and when he was left at Emma's. Each time, he travelled in a cat cage where no one could see him, the front opening draped over with a towel. As a nocturnal animal, Libs was not a fan of direct sunlight.

  "Hey! Is everything all right?" Jaidyn asked, her voice like a balm to my soul. It was early morning for me, evening for her.

  "Hello, little bird, it’s good to hear your voice,” I answered, “Millie is okay, she’ll be fine. How’s your dad?" I was looking out the bay windows into the vast horizon of LA, a stark contrast from the last couple of months, notably that of New Zealand where we first made love.

  Jesus, I sounded pussy whipped.

  Made love? No.

  We fucked like horny teenagers in that house overlooking the mountains.

  Who was I kidding? I worshipped her body like a saint worships his God. Completely and thoroughly.

  "He's...I don't know. Yesterday was difficult," she said but swiftly changed the subject, "So, what happened with Liberace? We didn't get a chance to talk about it last night," I could hear the disappointment in her voice even though she was trying to hide it with the false chipper tone.

  Taking in a deep breath, I explained it all to her.

  "Someone called Animal Control about Liberace. They came here looking for him but thankfully, he was at Emma's."

  Her gasp was so familiar, the same sound I heard over and over whenever I licked her to orgasm.

  "Oh my god, Marlon. Does this mean you have to..." she didn't finish her phrase, but I could guess where her mind was going.

  "No, I'm not getting rid of Libs, he's my buddy. We’ve been taking care of each other for too long. I’ll take care of it," I had no idea who had decided to fuck with my life, but I would figure it out, of that I was certain.

  "I'm so sorry. Do you know who it was? Was it someone in your building?" she asked, but I told her what I’d told Emma. Nothing made sense.

  "That's so weird. Do you have any enemies? Maybe a distraught employee?" she asked, genuinely trying to help, a fixer like me.

  "Not that I can think of but then no one at work knows about Libs except Ethan and Luca." I explained, turning toward the kitchen to run another coffee from my espresso machine, then added, "Emma and the vet and you. That's the extent of those in the know." I put the coffee pod in the machine, checking the water level and placing a cup under the spout. "I checked with everyone and since you were with me the whole time, I've got no leads," I finished, pushing the button to wake up the machine.

  "Right, and I would never say...oh my god."

  My entire body froze at her words. Thankfully, the coffee stopped running without prompting or else I would have been cleaning up a mess.

  "Jaidyn?"

  "Oh my god, Marlon. I..." I heard her cursing on the other end of the line, belittling herself.

  "Jaidyn, did you...?" The last thing I wanted to do was accuse her of anything. Not to mention that I couldn't for the life of me think of who she could have told.

  And then it hit me.

  "Calvin," she said at the very same time I gritted out a "Fucking Calvin."

  "I didn't think, Marlon. I was telling him that you had to go back, you know, in Japan? And I was so excited about you seeing Liberace that I... oh Marlon, I'm so sorry," her words all ran in one continuous flow.

  I had to take a minute, make sure my voice was even. If it was Calvin who called Animal Control, it was personal. If it was personal, he wouldn't stop until I possibly got arrested for owning an illegal pet. I mean, chances were less than slim, Animal Control had bigger problems than a happy skunk in a high-rise.

  From what I’d learned when I first took Libs in, it was a difficult task for Animal Control to retrieve an animal. Not only did I need to be there but unless they were
accompanied by police with a warrant, I was not obligated to let them in.

  Still, though, I needed to be smart about this.

  "It's okay, little bird, we'll figure it out," I tried to reassure her, or maybe myself.

  It would be fine.

  This wasn't the end of the world and I would take care of it.

  "I'm going to rip him a new one!" She suddenly said, her tone doing a one-eighty from contrite to murderous in less than a second.

  "Calm down, Jaybird. Don't tell him that I know, okay?" I needed to talk to Ethan and Luca. We needed to carefully plan this out in order to get him off my back.

  "But, this is my fault, Marlon. I can fix this," she pleaded.

  "Look, right now, our best bet is that he doesn't know we’ve figured it out," I told her, wishing I could hold her in my arms and reassure that it would all work out.

  "But...," she started but I promptly cut her off.

  "No, Jaidyn. Let me deal with this here, okay? Promise me," I told her, my tone leaving no room to argue.

  "Fine but if you need me, you have to promise to call me, okay?" She was cute when she was fired up like a warrior.

  "I promise, Jaybird. Now I want you to only worry about your dad. You went to the Western Wall today, right?" I asked, having memorized her itinerary.

  "Yes, this morning," she confirmed, her voice soft again but the guilt ever so present, “we even made it to the museum, it was emotional, to say the least.”

  “I wish I could be with you, little bird. The Cenacle, tomorrow should be awesome,” I told her, genuinely wishing I could visit the site of the Last Supper. It didn’t matter if it happened or not, the site was still iconic. I wouldn’t miss the crowds, though, that was for sure.

  "Enjoy your day and I’ll call you tomorrow. Let me take care of all of this, okay? I'll keep you posted, I promise,"