by SM Reine
“Oh…” I don’t know what surprised me more, that I hadn’t noticed him or that he’d been there at all. “Told you I’m not very observant.”
“Well, you had a good excuse.”
We both went quiet for an awkward moment. A faint metallic taste touched my tongue. I realized I was gnawing the chapped skin on my lower lip.
“So, um…how’s school going?” I asked. Lame, I know.
“It’s good, I guess. I mean, it’s school. If it weren’t at least a little emotionally damaging, they wouldn’t be doing their job, right?”
“Right.” I squeezed my eyes tightly and willed myself to come up with something to say that wouldn’t make me seem like a complete moron.
“So, do you know when you’re going to come back yet?”
“No idea. My brother, Aaron, went back today, but he hasn’t been home yet, so I haven’t asked him how it went.” I picked at the pilled fabric of my bedspread. “I don’t know how to tell if I’m ready to face it again, and my parents have been like zero help.”
“I understand. Actually, that’s why I’m calling.” Bryan paused as if gathering the courage to say something. “Um…my older brother...Jesse? He passed away last year. Thought you might like to talk to someone who’s been there, you know?”
“Didn’t you tell me that you’re an only child?”
“I am…now I am. After Jesse died, my parents thought we should be closer to our extended family in the Midwest. My mother’s side. So when my dad scored a job transfer to Dubuque, they couldn’t pack us off fast enough.”
“Oh. How...how did Jesse…?” My tongue stumbled over the question.
“Die? Do you know what hemophilia is?”
“Some kind of blood disease, right?”
“Yeah. It’s a genetic disorder where the blood can’t clot very well. A cut or a bruise can be fatal if doctors can’t get the bleeding to stop in time. Anyway, Jesse was snowboarding —something he was absolutely forbidden to do because of his condition. He was always doing stupid things he shouldn’t. The slope wasn’t even all that dangerous; he just banked too hard on a curve and tumbled into a tree. He was able to get up and walk back to the lodge, but by the time he got there, a huge bruise had formed on his side and began spreading across his back.”
“Oh, no,” I whispered.
“Yeah. His friends drove him to the nearest hospital, but he’d lost consciousness before they arrived. He died before my parents could get there. I guess he’d torn his liver when he fell.”
I squeezed my eyes tightly. Even hearing about the death of a boy I didn’t know could bring me to tears. “I’m so sorry, Bryan.”
He sighed on the other end of the phone as if he were forcing himself to be strong. “It’s okay. I mean, it was hard at first —it’s still hard —but it gets easier. I wanted you to know that. It gets easier.”
My chest tightened and my skin warmed for what seemed like the first time in days. “Thank you, Bryan. It means so much to me that you called. It’s like no one really understands what it’s like to lose a sibling. My friends have tried to help, but they’ve never experienced anything even close.”
“Have you been able to talk with your family?”
“Yeah, right! My mother has banned my father from the house and won’t let me go over to his place. And she’s been in a Valium haze since the funeral. My brother and I are spending all of our time in our bedrooms on opposite ends of the house. It’s like we brought the mortuary home with us.”
“I saw your brother today, at school. He looked like a guy walking in a dream. I thought maybe you would’ve come back, too.”
“I don’t think I’m ready yet. It just seems so hard. I can’t stop thinking about her as it is. How will I be able to look at her locker or her table in the lunch room or the cheerleaders walking around in their uniforms without thinking of her?”
“You can’t. You’re gonna see Lony everywhere for a while. It will totally suck…but that’s okay.”
“No! It’s not okay!” Tears were spilling down my face in earnest now. “These reminders just make the hole she left in my life bigger. She was my sister…my twin! All of my life we were defined by our relationship to each other. Lony’s the outgoing one, and I’m the introverted one. She’s got the style, and I’ve got the brains. She’s liked by all of the boys, and I’m liked by all the teachers. I don’t even know who I am without her!”
Bryan stayed silent for a few minutes while I sobbed. When I calmed down, I set the receiver down to wipe my face blow my nose with a wad of tissues.
I picked the phone back up and cradled it into the crease of my neck. “I’m sorry, Bryan. I didn’t mean to lose it. I’m doing that a lot lately.”
“Cady, don’t apologize,” he said. His voice was as soothing as hot chocolate. “Don’t ever apologize for what you are feeling. I understand.”
I sniffed again and asked, “So with Jesse…how did you move beyond it? I mean, how did you go on with your life?”
“Well, it sounds cliché, but I took it one day at a time. I got back into my routine, you know, going to school, doing my homework. I had a few close friends who helped me along. They kept me busy, but didn’t get offended when I didn’t have as good of a time as they did.”
“What about your family?”
“My mom also was lost for a while, but she pulled herself out of it after a few weeks. My dad…well, he doesn’t show his emotions much. I never even saw him cry, which seems weird, but if you knew my dad, it’s not a shocker. He went back to work the day after the funeral like nothing even happened. I don’t think my mother has forgiven him for that yet. They’re not talking a whole lot anymore. I suspect this move is a last-ditch effort on keeping their marriage together. It’s weird living in a house where no one speaks to each other. Sometimes I wish they would just separate and get it over with.”
“I know what you mean there. My dad had actually moved out the day before Lony’s accident.”
“Whoa! Brutal.”
I pulled a blanket out of my closet and carried it over to the window seat where I curled up all cozy-like with the phone. Bryan and I talked for over an hour. I told him about my upcoming therapy appointment, and he told me about the psychologist that his mother made him go see after Jesse’s death and what I might expect.
“So,” he said finally, “I have to go. My father will be home soon and my mother has dinner almost ready. Will I see you in school tomorrow?”
I could tell by the way he asked it that he thought it was time I get back in the swing of things, but didn’t want to pressure me.
“I don’t know, Bryan. I don’t know if I can walk in there. Everyone is going to stare at me.” I knew I sounded whiney, but didn’t care.
“Tell you what…I’ll pick you up in the morning and walk in with you.”
“Seriously? You’d do that? Why? I mean, you barely know me.”
He paused as if weighing his words. “Like I said, I’ve been there. And, since you’re one of the few people who has spoken to me outside of class since moving here, it’s my way of thanking you. You can always go home early if it gets to be too much.”
I thought about it for a moment. I was going to have to go back sometime. Aaron did it. I guess it was my turn.
“You don’t have to come get me.”
“I want to. Just tell me where you live.”
I had to admit to myself, having someone there for support would be nice. For some reason, this total stranger was able to comfort me in ways my family and friends had not. Part of it, of course, was because of Bryan’s experience with his brother, but I think the other part was because he never really knew Lony. He had nothing to compare me to, unlike other kids at school. Bryan saw me as a whole person and not as a half of a matched set.
“Okay. I’ll give it a shot."
I gave Bryan my address and was ready to hang up when I thought of something. "Wait a sec. Before, you said that your brother's hemophilia was gen
etic..."
"Yes. It is passed by females and carried by males. My mother is a carrier. She passed it down. I have hemophilia, too.”
Chapter 9
I couldn't sleep that night. After my conversation with Bryan, I waited for Aaron to come home so I could ask him about his day. It was past ten before I heard his truck pull into the driveway and he slipped quietly down to his bedroom before I could catch him.
In the morning, my head was a fuzzy mess of cobwebs, and my eyes were dry and red. I hadn’t slept well. After showering, I wasted over a half hour trying on and taking off clothes, unable to make a decision about what to wear to school. When I saw how late the time was I yanked on a pair of faded Levi's and a long-sleeved t-shirt. My stomach felt acidic and queasy. I gulped down an Eggo waffle, but it sat in my belly like a rock. I thought about poking my head into Mom's room to tell her where I was going —I hadn't seen her at all the previous evening —but remembering the wall of depression that had overcome me the day before when I went in her room, I decided to just leave a note for her on the counter.
The doorbell rang. I scooped up my heavy backpack and opened the door. Bryan stood on the stoop, leaning his lanky frame against a post. Time must have faded his image in my mind, because the guy standing before me, grinning with one up-turned corner of his mouth, was gorgeous! The dark of his eyes and hair were accented by a pair of black plastic framed glasses, making him appear studious, but cool at the same time. He radiated calm and strength, but also a hint of nervousness. My shoulders relaxed and I responded with an echoing grin.
“You’re wearing glasses,” I commented.
“Only when I drive,” he replied. "Ready?"
I nodded and pulled the door closed behind me.
We drove the couple of blocks to school. His car was a older model Lexus, a little nicer than the average high school student. We didn’t talk much. The air between us felt thick and awkward. He tapped his long fingers on the steering wheel, and I knew he was as anxious as I was.
Bryan found a parking space in the middle of the lot. He shut the ignition off, but neither of us made a move to exit the vehicle. He removed his glasses and folded them into a case which he then tossed up onto the dashboard. My chest tightened with nerves, and I drummed my fingers rapidly on my leg. It was only a few minutes before the bell and students, alone and in groups, made their way purposefully to the doors.
"Maybe I shouldn't have made you do this," Bryan said. "You don't have to go in. I can take you back home if you want."
"You're not making me do this. And as tempting as it is to go back to bed, getting back to regular life is the best thing to do.” I took a deep breath and let it out with a shudder. “I'm just glad I don't have to do it alone."
Bryan's expression softened and he reached over to pat the back of my hand. For a second, I thought he might take hold of it, causing me to suck in a quick breath. But he didn't. The touch was gone as quickly as it was given.
"Let's go," he said as he retrieved his bag from the backseat and opened the door.
My head grew dizzy as I climbed out into the crisp morning air. My stomach ached. The bell rang as we were approaching the building, but Bryan was content to let me walk at my own pace, without hurry. He accompanied me all the way to my government class. I could hear Mr. Steele in the classroom taking roll.
"Thanks, Bryan," I said. "I really appreciate your help."
He patted my shoulder stiffly. "I'll be right here when you get out of class."
"You don't need to walk me to all of my classes," I said with a nervous chuckle.
"I know I don't have to, but my American history class is just two doors down. No big deal.”
Bryan lifted his hand in a wave and strutted off down the hall. I waited until he disappeared into his classroom. As soon as he turned the corner out of sight, my fear came back. Roll call was over, and the principal's voice poured out of the intercom speakers for the morning announcements. I thought I might be able to slip into my seat before anyone noticed. I was wrong.
As I rounded the doorway to sneak down the aisle, I bumped into the metal garbage can, knocking it over with a clunk on the hard tiles. Twenty-one heads looked up at once. Upon recognizing me, their collective eyes shot down to the tops of their desks. The tension in the room jumped up so sharply, my lungs constricted. Suddenly, my neck broke out in a cold sweat, and my cheeks flared. I leaned over to right the garbage can and my bag slid off my shoulder, breaking the strap with the weight of too many textbooks.
"Good morning, Cady," Mr. Steele said, picking up his attendance book to mark me present. "Class, pay attention to the announcements."
The students turned back toward the front. I clutched the broken strap of my bag and slid into my third-row seat.
I remembered nothing of the teacher's lecture. Instead, I obsessed over my discomfort. It was hard to describe, but the room felt nervous…twitchy with my presence. It wasn't like anything I'd ever felt before. Several times I felt eyes watching me, but when I glanced around, all I saw were kids bent over their papers, scribbling notes or doodling in the margins. Paranoid much?
I jumped when the shrill bell rang out, ending first period. I really needed to chill out. I shook my head at my idiocy and stepped into the river of teenagers flowing up and down the hallway.
Someone touched my arm just above the elbow. I looked up to see Bryan. He smiled and asked, "How was it?"
I glanced around and noticed people looking at me as they passed by. "Awkward."
"Well, awkward is okay. You know you can do it now. With each class, it’ll get easier."
We merged into the traffic walking left. I wanted to stop at my locker to drop off the broken bag and the textbooks that I wouldn’t need. The crowd of students felt more oppressive than it ever had before. Flickers of hot and cold brushed my body, causing a sheen of cold sweat to dampen my skin. I felt my forehead, but didn’t detect a fever, just a dull ache forming between my eyes.
When we rounded the corner, I felt like someone socked me in the chest with a baseball bat. Before me was Lony's locker, looking as if Hallmark threw up all over it. Photos and cards were taped in over-lapping layers so no metal was exposed. What didn’t make it on the locker itself leaned neatly along the base of the wall. A vase with wilting roses stood on the floor with a hand-made sign sticking out which read, “Gone to the angels.” Teddy-bears and Beanie Babies with blank eyes and mocking smiles stared up at me from the floor.
"Oh, my god..." I whispered, my face draining to white. Kids passing by between classes stared at me, making my skin crawl.
Bryan clutched my arm and steered me into an empty classroom. "I'm so sorry, Cady."
"What is that? A shrine?" I shouted, my voice breaking like a twelve-year-old boy. I started to hyperventilate, the air in my lungs heaving in and out, in and out.
Bryan pulled me into his arms, his hand patting my hair. My tears soaked into the cotton of his White Stripes t-shirt, leaving dark gray blotches.
"I'm so sorry. I had no idea that was there. I never come down this hallway."
I didn’t wrap my arms around him; rather I drew them in tightly to my sides, my fists balled up clutching his shirt. I hadn’t noticed how cold I was until I was snuggling against him, basking in his body heat. Maybe I should have been embarrassed, but at that moment, all I could focus on was his calm warmth. He could have been anyone, I just needed to be held.
"It's okay, Cady," he whispered. "You stay here. I'll go get the janitor to take it all away."
As soon as he drew away, an irrational wave of anger rolled through me that even Bryan's calming influence couldn't touch.
"How could they? Don't they realize she was my sister? That my locker is right there, too? It's bad enough I have to live down the hall from her empty bedroom. Do they expect me to step around that —that altar between every class?”
A small rational part of me knew I was being a bitch, that those students lost someone too, but my emotions
were out of control with selfish need. I started pacing and Bryan just stepped back and watched.
Mr. Small, the computer arts teacher, poked his head in to see what all the shouting was about.
"Oh, Miss Day! Is everything all right?" He snatched a box of tissues from the window sill and held them out to me as if he didn’t want to come too close.
“It's fine," Bryan assured him, "She just wasn't prepared to see that memorial at her sister's locker."
"Oh, well... I guess I can call the custodian and have it removed."
"Forget it!" I said. "I'll do it myself."
Before they could stop me, I went out into the hallway and plucked a poem off of the metal. It was some sappy thing that struggled to rhyme. I ripped it and let the pieces float to my feet. I could feel the eyes of the crowd on my back, boring into my skull. A cold cloud of grief wafted around me. Without realizing it, my fingers started ripping the pictures and notes stuck to the locker with Scotch tape. My pinky ran along the edge of a Post-It which read “I’ll miss you,” slicing a tiny, painful cut in my skin. As I was shaking my hand, my foot knocked over the vase of flowers, spilling gunky water and soaking the largest of the teddy-bears.
Around me, kids stopped and stared, ignoring Mr. Small's pleas for them to keep moving. Murmurs wrapped around me, “Whoa! Cady’s losing it.” “Think we should try to help?” “I miss Lony too, but what a drama queen!” Their anger blended with mine until I shivered and all I could see was red. I tore at a photo of Lony standing in her cheerleader uniform, her pom-poms in the air as she stood on the shoulders of her teammates. When it was shredded beyond recognition, I moved on to a group shot of Lony and Cane with a bunch of their friends piled on top of each other on a couch in some anonymous basement rec room. The confetti of Kodak paper fluttered to the floor like a ticker-tape parade.
Bryan placed a tentative hand on my shoulder. His touch poked a hole in my anger, letting it diffuse, slowly, until it was gone altogether. My fingers stopped frozen in mid-rip. I looked down at the mess around my feet. My jaw dropped and my wild eyes latched onto his in shame. Just as my knees gave out, Bryan caught me and lowered me to the floor in a heap of limbs. He pulled me onto his lap and turned my sobbing face into the crook of his neck to shield me from our nosey classmates staring and whispering excitedly. The disdain they felt for me was tangible. The bell rang for second period, and a few more teachers arrived to usher everyone along to their classes.