If I Lose

by Kelsey D. Garmendia

  “I’m sorry ma’am,” he says. “May I say goodbye to Ms. Henderson?”

  The nurse lets out a long sigh before nodding her head and stepping out of Tristan’s way. “Five minutes max. Ms. Henderson needs to get rest.”

  “Thank you, ma’am,” he says and jogs over to my bed.

  I force my eyes open the rest of the way, but I can’t bring myself to move my arms.

  “I know you’re sick, but—” Tristan starts. He shakes his head and clears his throat. “I don’t want to lose another parent again. Aisley was an orphan before here. I know that now. And I can’t see her sad if she loses you. I’ve lost everyone, please don’t let the same thing happen to her.”

  He reaches for my hand and squeezes it into his sweaty palm. “Aisley needs you now more than ever, Ms. Henderson. She’s tough, but she’s coming loose at the edges,” he continues. “Please don’t leave us. We haven’t left you.”

  You’ve Known

  Why did I do this? How could I? I’m screaming into my pillow while Nolan cries for me. I push myself out of bed and cradle him in my arms.

  “I’m so sorry,” I sob. I sit in the recliner and feed him. He coos softly while he grabs at my cheek with smooth hands.

  Isha told me I should feed him frequently. He said it would take my mind off of everything else. He said to pour all my time into Nolan and this oppressive feeling on my chest would go away. But not even Nolan could that.

  I don’t hide the fact I’m miserable anymore. I tried to pretend that I was ok, but it was too hard. Aisley visits

  me every night before dinner. Tristan is always by her side. When she asks when I’ll be home, I repeat what Isha told me was the best answer: “I’ll be home soon, I just need some time.” I’ve been saying that for a week and a half.

  Nolan touches my face with his hand and laughs. He looks so much like his father. An ache in my chest throbs harder. He loves me, and I can’t bring myself past this lead weight in my gut. The lead weight where Xavier should be lifting me up.

  Xavier, how could we bring a child into this world? A world that is on the verge of collapsing in on us. Yes, it was a beautiful moment when we made him in that rickety hotel, but a selfish one as well. People are hunting people, our only safety lies in a Fort with soldiers posing as angels. We were selfish to create something so pure and beautiful only to condemn it to a life of hell.

  “Hayley,” a voice calls to me. I look up to meet Isha’s ocean eyes. “Are you all right?”

  I try to smile, but I’m sure it comes out as a grimace. He nods towards Nolan and asks, “Have you thought of a name yet?” I look down at the tiny crystal blue eyes that seem to smile at me and feel my chest explode.

  Isha wraps his arms around me. His arms are the only things holding me together right now.

  “What’s wrong with me, Isha?” I cry into his chest.

  “Nothing is wrong with you, Hayley.”

  “Then why am I like this?” I ask. “Why do I feel like this? Why can’t I just love him without this black hole in my gut?”

  “Because love isn’t supposed to be easy,” he whispers. “Because loss is more powerful at times. It will blind you and make loving someone seem unobtainable. And I know you’re hurting. I know you’re mourning

  someone.” He pulls himself back until his ocean eyes meet mine again. “But when you do get through this—”

  “If I get through this—”

  “No, when,” he says placing his hand under my chin. “You’ll have that much more love to give to that little boy in your arms.”

  He scoops up Nolan in his arms while I feel the depression rock me to sleep.

  Drowning

  “Mom,” Aisley calls out to me. Her voice echoes like I’m underwater. My eyelids weigh a ton each. “Please open your eyes. Please!”

  A hand clamps down on mine and squeezes. It’s all I need to pry my eyes open. The light of my room burns my retinas. I try and lift my arm to shield my view, but restraints keep my hands down. “Wha—” I wince; my throat is a desert.

  “Here,” she says holding out a glass with a straw.

  I swallow down half of the water and then lean back on my pillow. “I’m home?”

  Aisley nods her head. “Doctor’s orders,” she says.

  “What happened?” I say after a couple ticks of the clock.

  “Isha said you just went blank,” she says. “They told me it would be two weeks before you could come home. I expected the worst.”

  “The baby?”

  “They said you can’t see him yet,” she says. “But the nurses have been taking really good care of him. And he’s really well-behaved given the circumstances.”

  “What’s wrong with me?” I say. Something obviously is. I don’t feel right when I talk about our baby. Something is off, I know it.

  “They said something that started with a P, I think,” Aisley says. “But they said you can get better.”

  “Xavier won’t ever know he’s a father,” I blurt out. Aisley’s face freezes. She dips her head down and combs her fingers through her tangled hair.

  “Mom, you lost it,” she says looking back up at me. “The nurses didn’t know what to do. Isha didn’t know what to do. You just cried and cried and cried for days.”

  “I don’t know why I feel like this, Aisley,” I say tugging lightly at my restraints. “I was so happy that I still had a part of Xavier with me after everything that’s happened. But for some reason, I feel like this baby just took the last bit of hope out of me.”

  “Don’t say that,” Aisley says. “My brother is proof that happiness and joy is real—it’s real and it’s still out there! That little baby in there needs his mother. He needs parents!” She’s on her feet in a second, flipping her chair in the process.

  “Aisley—”

  “Just because your version of hope disappeared with Xavier leaving us doesn’t mean my brother’s has,” she says and slams the door behind her.

  * * *

  “Hayley,” Isha calls out.

  I open my eyes to the dimmed lights of my bedroom. The restraints are no longer on my wrists. I push myself up in bed and lean back on the pillow. Soreness burns all over my body. I pull the covers back and examine the knees from when I fell, but more so to see if my legs were restrained.

  “You might feel some soreness for a while,” he says.

  “Yeah.” I hear a baby cry from the opposite end of the room. It’s him, I know it is.

  “You know, we’re still waiting on a name for the little guy,” Isha says.

  Nolan. I just can’t get the words out though. This pit in my stomach returns with such force that I feel sick.

  “When you’ve decided, we’ll write it down on his record,” he says. He pats the back of my hand. “Would you like to hold him? He’s crying for you.”

  I want to, but my body doesn’t. It’s like my mind and my physical self aren’t on the same wavelength. I shake my head.

  Isha nods, “When you’re ready, you let me know.” He leaves me in silence after taking my vitals and making a few notes on my chart. I close my eyes and beg for sleep.

  * * *

  “Why did you leave?”

  Xavier sits in on a rock with his back to me. A campfire crackles from the other side. He pokes at something with a wood stick in the flames.

  “I needed to be on my own for a while,” I say. He lets out a manic laugh, but doesn’t turn to face me. I follow his spine and his spasming muscles to the ground.

  We’re in New Paltz, in the mountains the day before the food went missing. I know this is true by the pit I feel in my stomach. This is when he wanted to know why I left him and Cassie in Pine Bush.

  “Is that what you told Nolan?” Xavier says. He turns—a dark red circle of blood expands across his chest. A bullet hole gushes blood like a waterfall to the ground.

  “No,” I say. “I would never—”

  “I left you our son to take care of!” Xavier stands tower
ing over me like a skyscraper. My body stiffens until I can’t move at all. “I left a piece of me with you so you could throw it away like trash!”

  “No!”

  “Now look what you’ve done,” he says stepping aside.

  There in the fire is a baby wrapped in what was once a blue blanket. The only thing left of him is his ice blue gaze frozen on me.

  What Day Is It Again?

  I’m screaming now—screaming until my throat burns and my lungs give out.

  “Hayley!” Isha’s voice shouts. “Stop! Wake up!”

  I open my eyes to five nurses plus Isha pinning me to my bed. My breathing comes in heaving gasps. “Nolan!” I gasp in between breaths. “Where is he?”

  “Hayley, please,” Isha says in an even tone. “Listen.”

  I hold my breath and hear him crying. He’s alive. I close my eyes again and let the sob I was working up to explode from my chest.

  “Thank you,” Isha whispers. The hands on my body disappear one by one. I hear the door shut, Nolan crying, but everything is muted.

  “What is wrong with me?” I repeat over and over again.

  “Hayley,” Isha calls out. “Hayley?”

  I rock my upper body back and forth until I feel dizzy. “How could I do that to Nolan? Why do I feel so guilty? What—”

  “Hey!” Isha says grabbing my shoulders. “This is not your fault, Hayley. Snap out of whatever is going on in there!”

  I bite on my bottom lip and nod my head. He releases my shoulders and sits in a chair on the side of the bed. My heart stops pounding on the back of my ribcage, my breathing returns to normal, and finally, I can hear.

  Nolan whimpers in his crib with an occasional cry. I turn my head towards him and feel the tears rolling down my cheeks. If he hasn’t cried himself to sleep, I’ll finish it for him. The nightmare was horrible, but it was true. How could I feel this way towards the only blood still connecting me to Xavier? If I abandon him, I lose everything that got me here.

  “Nolan,” Isha repeats. “Suits him well.”

  I turn back to Isha and realize my hands are outstretched towards the crib.

  He pushes himself up from his chair and reaches into the twitching blankets. I can see the blanket moving and the slight cry echo in my head.

  “Nolan,” I whisper. Isha places him in my arms. Our fingertips touch, and he looks up at me with an icy gaze and smiles. “Nolan.”

  He reaches up and touches my cheek. His skin is warm and smooth like stepping into water. What was I thinking letting you go to them? How could I have been upset with someone as beautiful as you?

  Because Xavier isn’t here, my conscious reminds me.

  My vision goes blurry several times before I finally feel the wetness of tears on my face. “Are you all right, Hayley?” Isha says placing his arm on my shoulder.

  “Yeah,” I respond. “Yeah.”

  He lets a real smile spread across his face—one I’ve never seen before. His eyes scrunch around the corners. I feel his hand grow warmer on my skin. “I knew you would be,” he says.

  “Thank you,” I say. Something about his response reminds me that he’s been trying to help me since he met me. It’s like he knew all along that I would pull through, that I would be ok.

  The feeling rips the smallest hints of depression away from me. I smile for the first time in weeks. Nolan coos in my arms, his eyes fluttering closed.

  “Thank you,” I whisper.

  Ghosts

  “Ms. Henderson,” a voice calls out that leaves goosebumps on my skin.

  I open my eyes to Gunnar towering over me. I feel nauseous. He pulls the recliner over to my bedside, and leans back into it.

  “It looks like you’ve been catching up on your sleep here,” he says reading my chart that hangs off the foot of my bed.

  “What do you want, Gunnar?”

  “I was wondering if you were ever going to take responsibility for your child or is the Fort going to have to

  take in another baby while its mother learns to grow up?” he snaps while cleaning the dirt from under his fingernails.

  “I’m—”

  “Going through Postpartum Depression because mommy and daddy didn’t give you enough hugs when you were a kid,” he says. “Doctor Isha informed me on your condition. You need not say any more.”

  Nolan cries from his crib. I need to get to him before Gunnar does. I don’t know how long I’ve been asleep for, but clearly he’s been watching. I try and push myself up, but my hands won’t budge.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll get him for you,” Gunnar says pushing himself out of the recliner.

  “Don’t touch him!” I growl. I barely recognize my voice as my own. My heart ricochets like a pinball machine.

  Gunnar laughs and turns his back towards me. “Nurses have held your son more than you have. He’s practically our son now.”

  Underneath the heat of anger, I can feel it. A lead weight dragging me closer to the center of the earth. A weight that travels through my blood and pulsates in my chest. Guilt—guilt for the weeks that I couldn’t love my son unconditionally. Guilt for slipping into a depression that affected my whole family.

  But Isha was right—loss only goes so far.

  “Get away from my son!” Gunnar cradles Nolan in one arm. He screeches with his legs kicking wildly. Gunnar grabs a bottle and tries to put it into his mouth. Nolan knocks it from his hand and sends it crashing to the ground.

  “Let go of him!” I scream. I rip one of the restraints off along with a set of IVs. I tear at the other restraint on my wrist, but my fingers buzz with drugs and rage.

  “Hayley!” Isha’s voice shouts from the doorway. My head whips in his direction. “Gunnar, what are you doing!”

  “Ms. Henderson asked me to help,” he responds with ease.

  “You’re a fucking liar!”

  “She was delirious when I came in here, Doctor,” he says. “Babbling about some, Xavier person.”

  The sting of hearing his name doesn’t last as long as I thought it would. I’m electrified now. And I’ll be damned if Gunnar will make me out to be off-my-rocker crazy.

  “Get your disgusting hands off our child!” Gunnar whips his head towards me. The smirk that covered his face disappears and anger floods into his cheeks.

  “Gunnar you need to leave,” Isha says snatching Nolan from him. “Now.”

  “An eye will be kept on this one,” he says before turning on his heel and marching from the room.

  My heart rate slows to a reasonable thump, and I lean back in my bed. “Jesus, Hayley,” Isha mutters. He pulls a new IV out from his jacket and searches for another vein.

  “He was doing it on purpose,” I say, my voice scratching the back of my throat.

  “I know,” he whispers. “God, your blood pressure is through the roof.”

  “Please don’t drug me up,” I say. “I need to feel this. All of this.”

  “Feel what?”

  “The guilt, the anger, the loss,” I say. “It’s been a while since I’ve felt anything at all.”

  Isha smiles and squeezes my hand. “So how are you feeling now?” he asks.

  “Like I can breathe again.”

  And We Learn

  Book Three

  Tick Marks On The Wall

  I keep track of the days like some keep track of scars. I finally feel complete with Nolan in my arms instead of Xavier. It still hurts when I think of him, but I can swallow the sting now.

  With each tick mark I make on my mental calendar, I lose track of whether I should be scared or finally feel safe. Isha tells me that I have nothing to worry about. That everything is finally in place, and my hormones were the thing keeping me from feeling that. And I believe him—to a point.

  But Aisley—my god—Aisley. Nothing changes how I feel more than her. I celebrate her eleventh birthday and I barely recognize the girl who’s in front of me. The Fort is trying to break her. She’s strong from before The Wild, but the trainin
g only gets harder. The brainwashing starts to make her twitch at night. I can hear her whispering things to Tristan that would get us all killed.

  And Tristan. He is already hardened like coal at 13. They try and reassure me that everything is perfect, but I can’t keep up with their black holes for eyes and concrete slates for faces. But they know inside these walls is where we have the best chance for survival. I mean, who would want to believe that horrible things were right around the corner anyway?

  As weeks, months and years go by, I only feel the shell of safety. I only feel what Gunnar wants to me feel. I only think what Gunnar wants me to think.

  Because if I don’t, I risk losing everything.

  September 5, 2017: Four Years Later

  “Aisley!” I say from the kitchen. “Get your ass in gear! You’re gonna be late for school.”

  “Mommy!” Nolan cries from the bedroom. “I can’t find my backpack!”

  “That’s because it’s in here,” I say flipping the sunny side up egg in the pan. Nolan comes barreling into the kitchen with one shoe on, and his hair in disarray.

  “Ooo,” he says when he catches a glimpse of the stove. “Eggs and toast!”

  I laugh—he’s so much like Xavier it makes me sick. I help him into his remaining shoe and smooth out his hair. “You’re a mess kiddo,” I say.

  “Love you too, Mom,” he says. I can thank Aisley for the sarcasm.

  “Mom, Tristan and I have sniper training after school today,” Aisley says pulling her hair into a tight bun. “Can he come for dinner?”