by R. J. Garcia
“Yeah,” she said.
“This is really, very good,” I oozed.
Annie shrugged and said it was okay. It was similar to the way I drew, but maybe better.
“Do you mind if I draw a friend?” I asked.
She handed me the notebook and a pencil.
I went to work, drawing the perfect male counterpart for her illustration. I added a speech bubble, which read, “What’s up?”
She studied my creation with a smile. “Oh, Tommy, you’re talented!”
“Thanks! It was sort of an early hobby of mine.” A vision of Finn, with the plastic tubes taped to his nose, flashed in my brain. The weight returned to my chest, tinged with guilt for forgetting it, if even for a minute. After a moment, my head collapsed on her shoulder. We didn’t talk the rest of the way. I got off at her stop because it was close to Silence’s house.
I walked with Annie to her house. Birds were chirping, and insects were buzzing. It looked cottage-like and was crisply painted in shades of teal and beige — with a healthy, cut emerald lawn, and flower gardens to both sides of a rounded front door.
That was when Annie told me she had a dream that Finn woke up. She gave me a twinkly, little smile, displaying straight white teeth.
“Annie, you have teeth!” I blurted.
She looked at me weird, crinkling up her face like a younger kid might do. “I just got my braces off.” She closed her mouth, licking and enjoying her teeth. “They feel smooth,” she said. “I can’t wait till Finn sees my teeth.” She sounded tentative. “When he gets better,” and blew air between her lips.
“Yeah. He will get better.” The words were clumsy on my tongue.
We shared a sad hug. Something about the embrace made everything else go away.
When we parted, I again became focused. I needed to talk to Silence about the attack.
Chapter 30
Talk to Me
Tommy
Within a few minutes, I walked up Silence’s dirt drive. The place seemed deserted, like a haunted house after Halloween. I knocked on the door. Nothing. I knocked harder. Seconds passed, and the cloud moved across the sun. The door sprung open. Silence stood there, pretty as ever. She wore her many-times-washed jeans and hoodie. Even though I wanted to have this conversation all day long, I had no idea what to say. I nodded politely. “Hey.”
“Hey,” she replied and clung to the door frame, her face blank, waiting on me.
“I wanted to talk about things,” I admitted.
“Kay.” She came out, closing the door behind her. “I couldn’t even call Annie that night. I just disconnected from everything and sat in that ER waiting room.”
“What exactly happened?” I had to ask. I had to know.
“It was creepy, Tommy. An older guy was dancing with a dress in the middle of the woods. Then we found his van. There was this quilt covering up what looked like a body.” She slept walked across the lawn. I followed. “We went inside the van to see if it really was a dead body.”
“You went inside the van?”
“Yeah.” She stopped walking. Her glum, but level expression never changed. “Finn pulled the cover back, but it was only a mannequin.”
“Weird.” I suppressed a shudder. It painted an eerie picture. “Alright. What happened next?”
“The man came back before we had time to get out of the van.” She turned to face me. “This guy was kind of like that monster from the Jeepers Creepers movie. You’ve seen that one, right?”
I again nodded my head. “Yeah.” None of it really made sense to me.
“He said Laney’s name! He’s the kidnapper.”
I tried to take it all in, and let out a soft, confused, “Wow.”
“He came back to the van before we could get out. He kept driving fast until he finally stopped for gas. Me and Finn jumped out, but the guy followed us.” She rubbed her nose, her eyes tearing up.
“Damn.”
“Yeah.” She shook her head. “Do you want to hear it’s all my fault? It was. Are you happy now, Tommy?”
What was she talking about? “No. I’m not happy. How’s it your fault?”
She looked shell-shocked. “I don’t want to talk about it.” A few tears streamed down her face. “It just was, that’s all.” She wiped the tears away with her knuckle.
I started clearing my throat, clearing my head. “It’s not your fault,” I said. My stomach felt woozy when I asked, “Is that when he hit Finn with the shovel?”
She shook her head. “And he ran away. I called 911 from Finn’s phone.” She anxiously fidgeted, digging in her pockets and asked, “Do you have a cigarette, Tommy?” as she pulled out a pack of matches.
“No. And you know Finn doesn’t like you smoking.”
She pushed the matches back in her pocket and looked at me again. “I was mad at Finn right before it happened. I’m always mad at him.”
“I know.”
Another thought seemed to come to her. Her expression brightened. “Finn’s just so positive and shit.” She sniffled. “And he’s clueless when it comes to girls.”
I halfway listened as my thoughts jumped in a different direction. “Did the police talk to you? Do they have any leads? They have cameras at gas stations, right? And receipts? They can get this guy.”
“I talked to the Polar Bear. He said the camera was down at the gas station and the guy paid in cash.”
“Why’s he on the case? Is there no other police officer in Summertime?” Maybe he wasn’t even trying. It pissed me off. “This guy can’t get away with this.” I wasn’t sure if I was talking about the shovel maniac or Polar Bear. I looked around in random directions, paranoid and frustrated before my eyes locked in on her again. “I’m sorry about all this.” I handed Silence her phone from my pocket. “Call me anytime.” We hugged. “Well, I guess I should get going. I want to get a ride to the hospital to see Finn.” Out of nowhere, a black cat crossed in front of us, stretching her long body. “Isn’t that bad luck?”
“When have we ever had good luck?” Silence asked with a grin. “That’s just Lexi, one of my mom’s cats.”
My phone buzzed with a text from Reese. I probably should have told her that I wasn’t coming straight home. I wasn’t used to anyone checking up on me.
“I love him, you know.”
“I know,” I said, but was relieved to hear it. I wanted her to love him, more than I wanted Hailee to love me. I decided to confront her. Finn would want her safe. My stomach turned in on itself at the idea of Polar Bear touching her. I had to put it out there. “Listen, Silence, move in with Annie. You’re not safe.”
She didn’t deny it. “Annie’s mom wants me to move in, too. I’ll sleep there, but I have to take care of my mom.”
It was June and the last week of school. The last week always felt like the longest one. I wanted out of there so bad. Edgar followed me around, suddenly my shadow. The student council sent Finn a huge bouquet of flowers and a giant card Hailee had passed around the school. Almost all the students and teachers had signed it. No one really disliked him, except for Mudget, who wasn’t around.
Izzy started drawing Finn a picture every day, neatly writing the words, “Get well, Finn.” She never even asked me how to spell it. She turned into a preschool genius.
Finally, summer break came. I mainly moped around the house or went to the hospital to see Finn. I wandered around the polished floors and sat by Finn’s bed on the wooden chair with a mauve rubber back and seat cushion. A respiratory therapist would check his machine. Three days after the surgery, Finn breathed on his own.
Finn opened his eyes a couple of times. Each time, I jumped up, overly excited because he would just close them again. I thought he was joining the land of the living. Still, he didn’t wake up.
The therapist and nurses even knew my name and would make polite conversation. I never excelled at small talk. Reese and Holden would drop me off in the morning and not pick me up until late in the evening and I�
�d complain they picked me up too early. Silence and Annie would come almost every day but only stay for two or three hours. Finn’s mom lied and said they were family, too. I don’t think anyone at the hospital minded. All the staff agreed it was helpful to talk to a comatose person.
Sometimes Annie talked too much and drove Silence nuts. They’d bicker like an old married couple. Annie was probably the henpecked husband.
By day seven of Finn’s being in a coma, his bruises were changing colors and fading just a little. Sliding into the chair next to mine, Annie noticed too. “Finn’s bruises are turning the most beautiful shade of pastels. He looks so handsome.”
Silence gave Annie a hard look and went and sat on Finn’s bed, although the nurse had told her not to. “I like his normal color. Pasty white.” She cracked the smallest grin and softly caressed his face.
Annie’s hair poked out in straggles behind her ears and her eyes looked big and sad. “He’s gotta get better, right?” That day was the only time she had questioned it.
Silence and I shared a frown. Annie elected to answer her own question. “Finn’s tough. He’s going to be fine.”
We stared at the TV a lot. Sometimes Silence turned the channel, saying Finn doesn’t like this show, “Right, Finn?” She knocked back the sheets and laid her hand against his gowned chest.
Annie and I played hangman a couple of times, when I realized, “It’s a children’s game where you hang people. That’s messed up.” I halfway grinned about it.
“I never really thought about it. It’s weird,” Annie admitted, and added, “And what’s with the ‘Ring Around the Roses’ song? It says ‘ashes, ashes we all fall down.’ Is everyone dying at the end of the song?”
Silence deadpanned, “They’re just letting us know early on, that we’re all doomed.”
The truth was, the saddest things, like your best friend being in a coma becomes kind of routine. Even when the three of us were together, we remained achingly lonely without Finn. We knew he was supposed to be out of the coma by now, and he might never come back to us. We never said it.
I would get to know the waiting room well. I would flip through the outdated magazines. Other people sat in there, too, but no one bothered me. I would stay there for ten, or fifteen minutes, hoping Finn would conscious by the time I returned to his room.
Finn’s mom came once a day for an hour or so with either Holden, or Reese, and drove back home with us. Finn’s real dad didn’t come much that I knew of. I only saw him one other time.
It was day ten of Finn’s coma when his dad told me the Vikings discovered a land with the perfect climate and most beautiful women in the world. They called it Iceland to make everyone believe it was cold and desolate, keeping travelers away. I saw it, written all over his face. He loved Jana.
How did she end up with Polar Bear? Luckily, that idiot didn’t come by. I couldn’t stomach that pervert.
Mainly, I sat alone by Finn’s bed, watching TV. I was waiting for him to say something, anything, really. On Finn’s fourteenth day, it happened. Although his voice sounded scratchy, it radiated with familiar warmth. “Where am I, y’all?” were his first words back. He was still Finn, for sure.
“Finn?!” I jumped up, startled. “You’re in the hospital!” I shouted. I panicked for a second. “I’ll go get someone!”
I don’t know how people feel when they win the lottery, but they couldn’t have felt any better than I did in that moment. By the next night, the happiness leveled off. I was as flat inside as ever. Like a balloon with a pinhole, I couldn’t hold the happiness in for long.
That night I again dreamt of a faceless lady, running through the familiar woods with her small daughter. My mother’s story carved into my brain. It reminded me that it wasn’t over, yet.
Chapter 31
My Return
Finn
There was the impression of lingering, and of holding on. A light seemed to be weaved before me, in pencil-thin, crisscrossing shafts like spider webs. Slowly words came to my brain. I wondered if I could even move if I was alive. I opened my saggy eyelids. I barely lifted my arm. It somehow weighed a ton. I noticed the tubes. There was a tube taped to my nose. Other tubes, too. I didn’t count them. I tried to swallow, but my mouth felt dry. It was like I had no saliva. A blurry Tommy sat next to my bed. “Where am I, y’all?” I asked.
I think Tommy called out my name. An odd smile lit up his face. He said more things. Yet, I couldn’t make out a word he said. For some reason, he ran out of the room.
A few people in various uniforms crowded me. I felt strangely relaxed; sleepy, even.
A fat lady in a nurse’s uniform asked me something. I couldn’t hear her, either. It annoyed me. “Can I please have a glass of water?” I asked.
The nurse kept saying something. I concentrated hard before I heard her say, “The doctor is on his way to see you.” Doctor? Who cares about the doctor? I wanted a glass of water.
My eyes scanned faces, stopping on Tommy’s. “Hey, dude, get me a glass of water.”
My first day back, everyone and everything looked different to me. I was set on a slower speed and felt jumpy and a little lost trying to keep up.
My mom pounced on me, kissing my face, crying and calling me sweet, loving names. Even my real dad kissed my face, which he hadn’t done in forever. He cried. I couldn’t keep up with the drama of it.
Later, my fake dad, Polar Bear, came in with my mom to visit. He struggled to preserve his nice-guy facade. Maybe my brain couldn’t censor my thoughts too good, because I looked at my mom and admitted, “I don’t want that dick here. I hate that guy.”
Polar Bear’s civility faded. My mom was busy trying to smooth things over, leading him out of my room by his hand. Blame it on the head injury, I suppose.
Annie rushed in, all smiles, declaring it a “miracle.” Silence slowly tiptoed into the room. She looked at me carefully, with wide eyes, as if I were a phantom or a ghostly apparition.
It took me a while to hear Silence ask, “Are you mad at me?” It took me so long to hear her, she seemed peeved at me by the time I did.
“No. I’m not mad at you,” I replied.
Silence later admitted that she thought I was being cold and had hoped for a more heartfelt forgiveness. Seeing her by my bedside, I knew I liked her a lot. I was feeling more confused than anything. Silence seemed to want to bicker, or kiss and makeup. I wasn’t up for verbal clashes or romantic declarations. She had turned thirteen while I was in the coma. I wasn’t exactly up to having a girlfriend. Instead, I proudly told her I called Polar Bear a “dick.”
Silence grinned before looking serious. “What do you remember about that night?” she asked.
The truth was, I stretched my memory for details. I couldn’t remember that last day or the fourteen days that followed. I couldn’t even remember having a dream in all that time. That part of my life bled away.
I was weak and was told that my muscles had atrophied, which I think means the same thing, but in ten-dollar, medical terms. I worked with therapists to walk again and get strong. I also lost all hearing in my left ear and some of the hearing in my right one. So, I got a hearing aid like my great-aunt Harriet wore. And my beautiful, ginger hair that had been buzzed away for surgery my first day here, barely amounted to stubble now. Everyone kept saying I would be fine. Hell, I wasn’t going down without a fight.
Chapter 32
The Fourth of July
Tommy
June was over, and no arrest had been made. The man who attacked Finn was off doing whatever psychos do. There were good police officers in the world, but they sure as hell weren’t in Summertime, Indiana. I did obsess about this guy being out there somewhere, but I was at a loss about what to do next.
And with Finn on the road to recovery, I agreed to go with Holden and Reese to the parade. I had been kind of a bad big brother lately. This way I could spend a little quality time with Izzy.
It was a hot and humid day. The p
arade took place in downtown Summertime. It started incredibly slow with big gaps between half-baked floats. Izzy would get excited when someone on the float threw Tootsie Rolls. She would pick them up from the road with a few other kids. She even had a plastic bag to collect them in. Holden brought fold-out lawn chairs and the three of us looked on. We were catty-cornered to an old army tank that always sat parked there and a Dairy Queen. Izzy would run back to tell us how many candies she scored with a serious look on her face. After she would offer us each one.
I looked around. There were a lot of ugly people. They were all white, most heavy, a lot of them in tank tops and shorts. A lady talking to Reese was missing a couple of teeth. She fit in with the crowd. It was her chubby, tattooed husband wearing his pet boa constrictor like a scarf that stood out. He asked me if I wanted to touch it, but I told him, “No, thanks.” White people didn’t know how to do poor.
A Corvette convertible with the roof down putted past us. An older, blond, cougar- type woman sat in the passenger’s seat, tossing out pens with the name of a real-estate agency on them. Then I saw her, and on an actual float with bursts of streamers in bright colors. She wore a crown and sat on a high throne, waving like she was a real queen. It was Hailee. Metaphorically, she had always been on that throne, to me. I almost laughed as she looked right at me, but never missed a beat of her wave. Even though I knew she wasn’t waving at me, I waved back. She appeared ethereal, with long, flowing hair and an airy smile, not even sweating like the rest of us. I almost wanted to tell Holden or Reese that she was the girl I took to the dance but kept it to myself.