The Year They Fell

by David Kreizman

  “Of course not. I just … What’s everybody doing under here?”

  Harrison cleared his throat. “Well, I didn’t plan for this, but since four-fifths of us are here, I’d like to raise a question. Or a theory. I tried to bring it up with you at the lunch table last week, Archie, but you were preoccupied. So I’ve been thinking a lot about … probabilities and looking over the statistics of aviation disasters in relation to, well, do you see where I’m going with this?”

  We all just stood and looked at him for a few moments before Dayana spoke. “I’m sorry, but I have no idea what the fuck you just said.”

  Harrison took a deep breath. “The plane crash,” he said.

  Suddenly I became aware that everything above us was silent, like someone had turned off the volume in the stadium. At first I thought it was in my head, that my brain was shutting out the world again. I wasn’t underwater, though. I was still here and something had changed in the crowd over our heads. What had been a loud and raucous pounding was now totally still. The whole place had gone dead.

  My confusion quickly turned to something else: dread. It started like a tingling in my feet, ran up my legs, and formed sort of a ball in my gut and into my throat, where I felt like I was choking on it.

  Jack …

  I ran from under the bleachers. When I got out to the lights the first thing I saw was Siobhan crying in the arms of another cheerleader. I ran past them onto the track to get a view of the field, begging for someone to tell me what was going on. Players on both teams were kneeling down with their helmets off, while on the other side of the field EMTs worked on a player lying on the ground. When they started to move him, I finally saw my twin brother strapped to a gurney. They’d secured his head with a large neck brace and his eyes were closed, like he was sleeping. He wasn’t moving at all. I screamed his name and tried to run out onto the field, but hands held me back, arms surrounded me. Voices told me it was going to be okay, that Jack was tough and that he’d be fine. I struggled to get away from them.

  “Jack! Let me see him! Jack!”

  A hand reached out and grabbed mine. Archie again. Pulling me through another crowd. “There’s nothing you can do here,” he said. “Josie, look at me. We’ll meet them at the hospital.”

  Archie helped me into the back of a red sedan and closed the door before climbing into the other side. Soon we were screeching out of the parking lot. Only when we ran a red light and almost plowed into another car did I notice that Harrison was driving, with Dayana in the seat next to him.

  “Jesus fucking Christ,” she yelled. “Do you even have a license?”

  “No,” said Harrison. “I learned from YouTube.”

  Archie sat next to me in the back seat. He never let go of my hand as we flew around corners and scraped against curbs.

  “I told him to play,” I whispered. “He wanted to quit and I used Daddy to make him feel guilty. I made him play and now…”

  “Jack’s nine feet tall and four hundred pounds,” said Archie. “He’s the Hulk. No one makes the Hulk do anything he doesn’t want to do.”

  We took another sharp turn and my body got thrown against Archie. He braced me and helped me buckle my seat belt. “I’ve got you,” he said. In that moment, I felt all the guilt and all the shame for how I’d treated him.

  “I need to explain why I didn’t talk to you after that night on the playground,” I said.

  “It was a long time ago.”

  “I’m still doing it.”

  “I don’t care, Josie.”

  “Please.” I took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Archie. I’m so sorry. What you did for me … You saved my life and I treated you like crap.”

  “It doesn’t matter now. We’re almost there.”

  I sat up and looked into his eyes. “Can I see the drawing?”

  9

  JACK

  Goddamn, my brain hurt.

  Lying in the darkness I felt someone inside my skull trying to hammer his way out. When I opened my eyes, the fluorescent light shot through my head like an ice pick. Blurry people were standing over me. I lifted my head, but the room started to spin, and then everything went dark again.

  When I opened my eyes the second time, Josie was by my side. I was in the hospital; that much I figured out on my own. I hated hospitals. All that time spent there as a kid. I was born too small. Caused a lot of complications. Been playing catch-up ever since. I tried to turn to see her, but I couldn’t move my head. Panic shot through my body. I yanked the sheet off my legs and wiggled my toes. Arms moving. Legs, too. But the effort made me want to puke.

  Josie put a hand on my forehead. “Don’t try to move. You’re in a neck brace. Just to be safe. Do you remember how you got here?”

  My thoughts were a mess. Even more than usual. Like my brain was trying to do ten things at once. Straightening them out just made my head hurt more. I was scared, but I was more tired than I’d ever been in my life. So I let myself drift again. This time when I came back, Grandpa Ralph and Grandma Nelly were with Josie near my feet, while a young doctor in a lab coat poked at my toes with something sharp. I winced.

  “That’s a good sign,” he said.

  I tried to read his nametag. So many letters all scrambled together. Keeping my eyes open was a struggle, but I wasn’t ready to sleep again. How the hell did I end up here? Focus on something. The scar near Josie’s lip from when the softball hit her. Stare at it. Stay awake. “Soul…?”

  Josie brushed past the doctor to hug me. “Yes. Yes, I’m here. Oh my God! Heart, I’m so happy you’re okay. You don’t even know!”

  Grandma and Grandpa chattered back and forth. Was everyone talking at once?

  “Jack, I’m Dr. Wicentowski. I’m a neurologist. I’m going to ask you some simple questions now. I want you to answer to the best of your ability. Okay?”

  “Questions?”

  “Do you know where you are?”

  “Hospital?”

  “Yes. What day is today?”

  “It’s Saturday, no … Thursday, I think. We had school, so. Wait, why are you asking me? I’ve been asleep.”

  “Do you know why you’re in the hospital?”

  “Does it … have to do with the mashing in my head?”

  “Can you describe that ‘mashing’?”

  “Hurts.”

  “But you don’t remember how you got here?”

  “Try to answer his questions, Jackie,” said Grandpa.

  “I am trying. You talking doesn’t help.”

  The doctor shined a small, bright light into my eyes. Intense pain. I reached up and grabbed his wrist to get the light out of my face.

  “Squeeze my wrist. As hard as you can. Don’t worry. You won’t hurt me.” I squeezed hard and he barely reacted. “And what day did you say it is?”

  “I don’t know!”

  “Are you dizzy? Nauseated?”

  “What happened? Jo…?”

  Josie’s details about the game ran out of my head as fast as they went in. Three times I made her repeat it, until I finally got that I went helmet to helmet with Ocean Catholic’s running back. I was out cold when they carried me off the field. I imagined what that was like for Jo. Standing next to the stretcher, watching them load my carcass into an ambulance.

  The doctor had me follow his finger as he moved it around. No matter how hard I tried I couldn’t focus on it. How could moving my eyeballs be so exhausting?

  “Mr. Clay, while you were asleep we performed a CAT scan on your brain and your spinal column. There was a minor contusion on the C5 vertebra, which is why you’re experiencing some weakness in your extremities. I expect that to repair itself once the swelling goes down. However, you also suffered a serious concussion. The symptoms you’re feeling—headaches, sensitivity to light, vertigo, confusion—there is no way to know how long they’ll last. My understanding from your GP is that this is your fourth traumatic brain injury in less than two years. Your brain simply hasn’t had a chance
to fully recover. My recommendation would be that you sit out the rest of the football season and…” I shut my eyes and his squeaky voice floated away.

  So this was how it ended. I wasn’t really going to quit the night Josie and I got in that fight. I don’t know why I said it. Maybe just as an FU to Dad.

  When I took off from the house that night, I drove to school and lay down on the football field. I felt calm there. I did love football. I could run and hit people without anyone telling me to sit still, pay attention, stop moving. But with my history of head injuries and a less than stellar academic record, no major college coach would want me to play for his team. I was done. No more football. Ever. All that time on the practice field and in the weight room. All of those clinics and private coaches Dad paid for. All the college visits and recruiting trips. It all ended with one collision I had no memory of.

  It’s weird, though. I felt nothing. Two months ago, losing my football career would’ve been the end of the world in our family. I guess the end of the world had already happened.

  When I finally woke up again, I felt even foggier. Where are Mom and Dad? I wondered. Shouldn’t they be here? And then it all came flooding back at once. Mom and Dad weren’t going to be here or anywhere else.

  Josie came in with water from the nurses’ station, but her hands were shaky and she slipped and spilled it all over me. I was instantly enraged. “What the hell is wrong with you?!” As she tried to help me dry off, I pushed her away. I didn’t mean to get upset. If I could just get my thoughts clear!

  Josie started to cry. She told me how sorry she was for pushing me to play in the game. “If something happened to you and it was my fault—”

  “Stop,” I told her. “You weren’t … I was … None of this is … Shit, why can’t I think?”

  I tried to explain I wasn’t mad at her, but nothing I said was making any sense. I’d start to say one thing, but then some memory would creep in and I’d be off down another road. Or an image would pop into my brain. Mom taking me to all those doctors’ visits when I was little. All the goddamn needles and tests. “Your sister hogged all the nutrients in the womb,” Mom told me. “That’s why you came out so small. And your body, it just needs a little more help to stay healthy.” Nothing good ever happened in a hospital.

  Josie in the bed, her face all messed up from getting smacked by that softball. And she’d done it to herself. I knew she leaned her head over the plate. She wanted to get hit. And I knew why. Coach Murphy. God, I wanted to make that guy suffer. When I tried to talk to Josie about him, she just accused me of being jealous. She shut me out. What was I supposed to do? Call the police on him?

  Fucking protect her, that’s what. Three years later, lying in a hospital bed with a messed-up brain, I still felt … I don’t know what you’d call it. Shame? It didn’t matter that I was small and weak back then. I should’ve thrown myself in front of that bullet before she threw herself in front of a softball. I should’ve gone to Mom and Dad or the cops, or burned down Murph’s house. But I didn’t. I let it happen. I watched her get in that fucking blue car three nights a week and I swallowed it. I lived with that every day. Because I couldn’t protect her, Josie stuck out her face and ate a softball. That’s how it ended for her. She quit sports. She changed. I was the only one who knew why. I kept waiting for her to come talk to me about it, but she never did.

  Dad wasn’t going to just let her quit. As far as he knew, Murphy was a dedicated coach who was gonna help Josie develop as an elite player. When Josie told Dad she was quitting, he lost his shit. You have the opportunity to be not just good, but great. You’re going to let a black eye and a chipped tooth ruin your life?! I saw how this was going. He’d continue to threaten or bribe her and never let up until he forced her to play. She lived to make him happy. She was Daddy’s girl. But to tell him what she’d been doing … I knew she thought she’d break his heart.

  One night while Dad was in the city for a dinner meeting, I took his keys, drank half a beer, and drove his Beemer right into a fence outside the school. I didn’t do a shit-ton of damage, just enough to make it look ugly. The cops picked me up and brought me down to the station. I gave them Dad’s cell number. When he came down to get me, I made a big stink and blamed him for never being around.

  Mom and Dad brought down the ax on me. They took away my allowance, grounded me for months, made me double down on those endless, frustrating tutoring sessions with Harrison. By the time I was finally allowed out of my room, they’d forgotten all about Josie quitting softball.

  Jo found a way to move on. But I never did. I made a promise that I would never let her down again. I was done being weak. So I ate. And I worked out. I took every vitamin and supplement and protein shake I could get my hands on. I talked to guys in the weight room and I went to Dad and asked him if he knew a doctor who’d prescribe me growth hormone. He had a golf buddy who was more than happy to help. Anything to make me bigger and stronger. I wanted to be the kind of person no one wants to screw with. The kind of person who can protect his sister.

  “Jack? Jack, can you hear me?” Josie gave my hand a gentle shake. My mind had drifted again. That felt like a long one. It was a real struggle to stay anchored in the room. Everything was a distraction. Everything bothered me. People walking in the hallway, car alarms in the parking lot, memories flashing by. Boom! Boom! Boom! Loud knocks went off like bombs in my head.

  “I want to go home. I don’t want to be here anymore.”

  “You can’t leave,” said Josie. “The doctor hasn’t cleared you. Can they come in to say hi?”

  I looked over to see Archie, Harrison, and Dayana standing in the doorway. “They were with me when you got hurt,” said Josie. “They’ve been waiting out there the whole time.”

  Dayana produced a bag from behind her back. “We thought you might be hungry, so we got you some food. Can you believe there’s freaking fast food in the hospital? They might as well sell cigarettes in the gift shop. Do they sell cigarettes in the gift shop? E-cigs maybe?”

  Harrison placed a supersized cup on the table next to my bed. “We had no idea how much … a person of your size consumes, so I did some quick calculations of body weight and calories … I hope it’s enough.” Dayana opened the bag to reveal that they’d bought me five twenty-piece boxes of nuggets. One hundred nuggets. The smell made my stomach roll.

  “Not really hungry,” I said through gritted teeth. “You can have them.” Harrison came over to sniff around, but Archie hung by the door. He was afraid of me, I could see it. Josie went over to him and put a hand on his arm. I noticed how Archie reacted when she touched him. He adjusted his glasses and coughed.

  “Jack, I’m glad you’re okay. Really glad. I, um, drew you something while we were waiting. Not that you probably want it now, but I thought maybe, well … there were a lot of people sitting out there worrying about you. I thought you’d like to see it. All of us together, you know.”

  “It’s really amazing,” said Josie. “You can look at it later.”

  “Excuse me,” Harrison cut in. “I don’t know if this is an ideal time, but we might not all be together in the same room again so I’d like to take this opportunity to—”

  Dayana gripped his arm. “Maybe later, huh, H?”

  “I’m sorry, but this needs to be said—shared—and frankly I need your help.”

  “With what?” asked Archie.

  Harrison rubbed his hands together and took a breath. “You probably don’t remember, but when I was eight, my mother took me on a flight to visit her cousins in North Carolina. I’ve never liked flying much. It makes me feel out of control. Mom told the flight attendant about my … issues. She smiled and took me to see the captain in the cockpit. He was this big blond man with a mustache. He gave me a pair of little metal wings. ‘No worries, young man,’ he said. ‘Planes want to stay in the air.’ You see?”

  “No,” said Archie. “I don’t.”

  “The weather was clear. Perfect fli
ght conditions according to my research. And we’re still waiting to hear about cause, so I was wondering if…”

  Wondering if what? The harder I concentrated, the less clear I got. It was how I felt in English class sometimes—like I was trying to hold on to water by squeezing it tighter. Dad would say I wasn’t applying myself. Mom said my brain had to work differently because I didn’t get those nutrients as a baby. I put my hands to my face and rubbed my eyes with the heels of my hands.

  “Okay, that’s enough,” said Josie. “Jack needs his rest.”

  Dayana ushered Harrison out. Archie waited as Josie kissed my forehead. As they walked out together and slowly closed the door behind them, I caught a glimpse of Archie putting his arm around Josie.

  * * *

  I was in and out the next few days. Coach Hastings brought the whole football team to visit and they all squeezed into my little hospital room and gave me a signed ball. Once they said hi and asked how I was feeling, nobody had much else to say. And when I looked around, I realized I was having a hard time remembering a lot of their names. They started talking about next week’s game and I closed my eyes. Already they didn’t feel like my teammates anymore.

  Siobhan came after school and brought me chicken salad sandwiches from my favorite deli. She acted like our breakup never happened. She wanted to snuggle in the bed with me. She even offered to “relax” me under the sheets, but I … I just couldn’t. On her second visit I pretended I was asleep.

  One morning I woke up with the feeling that someone was watching me. My room was empty, although I noticed a huge bag of Swedish Fish—my favorite candy—on my table. I looked toward the hall and saw Dayana’s mom, Vanesa, standing at the window. For a second I wasn’t sure if she was really there. It was like seeing a ghost or something. I lifted my hand to wave, but she’d already floated away down the hall.

  Harrison came to visit me on his own. “I went to your house and got your math books from your grandma. She’s very worried that you’ll start falling behind in school. She said it was very important to your father, and I know that when you start to feel overwhelmed with the amount of work, you tend to have trouble staying focused on—”