Forever Mark

by Jessyca Thibault

  So Dr. M had called the place to let them know that Kellen was on his way, Lena had gone to get him some clothes and things from home, and I drove the boy I loved to the place where he could get his shit back together.

  Kellen ended up spending four days at the facility before he was released. He was encouraged to continue outpatient treatment, as well as Narcotics Anonymous meetings, in addition to his sessions with Dr. M.

  I think the NA meetings were what got to Kellen the most, not that he said it out loud. It was something Lena mentioned last week when my mom and I were getting coffee with her while Kellen was at a meeting. I’d convinced my mom to come so that she could meet Lena. The two had actually gotten along really well.

  “He doesn’t like the label,” Lena had said about Kellen. “I think he associates ‘addict’ with his father.”

  My mom was the one who’d offered some words of wisdom. “Maybe if it was worded that he has an addiction instead of that he’s an addict, that might help,” my mom had said. “It would put the problem on the illness instead of on him as a person.”

  I’d just stared at my mom. She’d been surprising me more and more every day.

  Lena had sat there thinking about it. “Huh,” she’d said. “That’s a really good point.”

  Kellen hadn’t missed a single appointment or meeting during the past two weeks, but I knew there was still something holding him back, something that was keeping him from truly healing.

  Kellen hadn’t said goodbye.

  He’d gone to Tony’s memorial service, but he hadn’t been sober and so Dr. M suggested that he visit the memorial box that was created for his little brother. Kellen had asked me to go with him and of course I said yes. Just because he had to allow himself to grieve didn’t mean he had to do it alone.

  “Are you ready?” I asked, putting the sealed letter in my pocket. I took his hand in mine and gave it a light squeeze.

  Kellen looked down at our hands and I watched as he grew a little bit stronger. I was learning that although tornadoes could tear apart the world and quakes could split the earth in two, sometimes all it took was something small – a smile or a kiss or the gentle squeeze of a hand – to remind you that all was not lost. There was still some good left in the world and although it didn’t fix everything or reverse the broken pieces, it showed you that something as simple as love could help put the pieces back together.

  “Yeah,” he said. “I think I am now.”

  Kellen and I walked to the bookstore he worked at. His bike was destroyed in the accident and though we could have used mine, Kellen wasn’t ready to get back on the bike just yet. Some things took more time than others. Hand in hand, we made our way to the mailbox outside the store. I stared at it, unsure whether or not I was going to go through with it. I ran my free hand over the blue exterior of the box.

  “You can do it,” Kellen said, giving me a small smile.

  I took a deep breath and pulled the letter to my father out of my back pocket. In one fluid motion I opened the box and dropped my letter in, hearing the soft sound of the letter falling onto all of the other letters being sent to people – some happy, some sad, some angry. I didn’t know how to classify my letter, but as I let the handle of the mailbox door clang shut, I knew that there was no going back. My father was finally going to hear how I felt without me fearing that spaghetti would be thrown or that the phone would be ripped out of the wall.

  “You did it,” Kellen said. “You finished the Happy List.”

  I looked over and he had the list in his hand, holding it out to me with a pen. I took it and put my final checkmark next to item number fifteen.

  Write a letter to someone that has hurt you.

  I smiled and looked up at Kellen. I couldn’t believe I’d actually done everything on the list and now there was only one thing left to do. I handed the list back to Kellen. I’d started it with him and I’d finished it with him right by my side. But I was by his side too.

  I pulled Kellen forward, giving him the same encouragement that he had given me. We walked across the grass and over towards the lake, stopping at the tree with the wooden memorial box strapped to its trunk. Beneath the tree there were various flowers planted. Bouquets and wreaths and framed photos covered the grass, leavings from all of the people whose lives were touched by Tony.

  I looked up and saw that Kellen’s eyes were glassy with unshed tears.

  “It’s okay,” I said, rubbing his arm.

  He took one step forward, then another. I stayed back, knowing that me being there was enough, but this part was something he had to do on his own. Tony’s death was a huge cut on Kellen’s heart and this was how he had to clean it so that it could heal.

  Kellen lifted the top of the memorial box, the Happy List in his hand.

  “Hey, big guy,” he said, his voice cracking on the words. I felt tears spring to my own eyes. “I know I promised I’d tell you about this list when you got older, but I didn’t get the chance,” he continued. He looked down at the list for a second and I saw him wipe his eyes quickly. “These are things that Carson and I did to not feel sad anymore. I want you to have it. Maybe wherever you… Maybe wherever you are now, you can do these things too.”

  Kellen placed the Happy List in the box and shut the lid. I let out a little sob and covered my mouth, not wanting to make it any harder for him. Kellen moved his hand back and forth over the top of the box and I wondered if he was imagining ruffling his little brother’s hair.

  “Goodbye, Tony,” he said.

  Kellen and I decided to stay by the lake and wait for the sunset. I laid beside him with my head on his chest, his arm wrapped around me. My eyes were closed as I steadied my breathing to the rhythm of Kellen’s heartbeat.

  “Carson,” I heard him say. “It’s starting.”

  My eyes flickered open and were met with an explosion of light. It was like the sun had burst in the sky, sending splatters of yellow and orange everywhere. Little flecks of pink peeked out here and there. I looked down at the water, its reflection distorting all of it, yet mirroring it at the same time. The world was like one big finger-painting and I couldn’t help but think that Tony was the artist, continuing to light up the world from wherever he was. My eyes wandered over the earth and sky, trying to take it all in. Then I caught sight of the little bicycle tattooed on my bare foot.

  It was a bittersweet moment, filled with so much beauty and sadness that it was hard to tell which emotion was the right one to feel. Maybe there was no right way to feel. Maybe the fact that we were there and feeling anything at all was enough.

  I tilted my head to look up at Kellen. He was doing better, but each day was a battle and he was still mourning his brother’s death. I knew some part of him always would. Over time the pain would just get duller and duller, less stabbing and more like a constant ache for a person he could never forget. It was like a tattoo. The first stroke was piercing, but after that it became manageable. The pain didn’t vanish, but it wasn’t the only thing on your mind.

  Kellen brought his lips to mine. It was a quick kiss, but there was a promise in it – a promise for today and tomorrow and as many days as we were lucky enough to have together. I’d always craved the love of another person, but I’d been afraid of it too. I wasn’t afraid anymore. Life was too short to be afraid of love.

  Kellen wasn’t my other half and I wasn’t his. That was something I’d learned through all of the tragedy of the last few weeks. Kellen and I were each two whole souls, and I think that was what Dr. M had been trying to tell me all along – that I was a whole person on my own. Love wasn’t about giving up half of yourself to make room for someone else. It was about finding someone who cherished the whole thing and encouraged you to cherish it too.

  Kellen was the boy in the baseball cap and I was the girl with the broken heart and by some twist of fate or luck or magic, we found each other. And we fit together imperfectly.

  “Hey, Carson,” Kellen said. “If I could rea
rrange the alphabet – ”

  “You’d put U and I together,” I finished.

  “Damn, you’re good,” he said.

  I laughed. “No, you just pick the most overused pick-up lines.”

  “I’ll have a better one tomorrow,” he said. “Free of alphabets and falling and library cards.”

  “Library cards?”

  “Wait, I haven’t used that one yet?”

  “No sir, I don’t think so.”

  “I must have figured since you don’t read it wouldn’t make sense,” he said. “I’ll have to save that one.”

  “Um, I do read now, remember? Just not very frequently.”

  “When was the last time you used your library card, Carson.”

  I paused. “I don’t think I have one.”

  “Readers everywhere just threw their books at a wall.”

  I laughed. I couldn’t wait to hear tomorrow’s joke and, honestly, as long as Kellen was the one saying it I didn’t care what it was about.

  Dedication

  This is the book that I always wanted to give life to, but never had the courage. It was my literary star-crossed lover. The timing was always off. I was scared. It wasn’t ready. I had come to terms with the fact that as much as I loved it with all my heart, maybe it just wasn’t meant to be. Life had other plans though.

  I am a believer that everything happens for a reason, and this is no exception. There was a reason that while I held onto this book tightly I also held onto the hope that maybe someday I would be brave and it would be ready. There was a reason I held on for all this time.

  When my best friend read the original version of this book, she told me that if she ever had a daughter she would name her Carson. I told her that if that happened I would publish the book. That was almost four years ago. She kept her promise and I’m keeping mine. This is for my best friend and baby Carson, who was just welcomed into this world.

  Here’s to the best friendships and sweet beginnings.

  Here’s to people that leave marks on our hearts and lives.

  Forever.