Bent not Broken

by Lisa De Jong

  I nodded, knowingly. I hadn’t forgotten. “For all of us…or rather, for anyone who can play it, but I thought of you when I bought it. I figured you might be getting a little rusty.”

  With wide-eyed surprise, Chris beamed, “Oh wow, Mrs. Honeycutt, thank you!” Chris bypassed the guitar and went straight for the hug. The guitar almost went flying, but a kid sitting next to him grabbed the neck of it before it hit the ground. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me to him. “You don’t know what this means to me,” he whispered into my ear. My instantly heart swelled, knowing I’d hit the mark.

  I sank into his arms, appreciating the hug that I didn’t expect, and squeezed him back. “You deserve it, Chris. Now play us a song,” I demanded with a smile as I quickly pulled away.

  “You got it.” He clutched the guitar, staring dreamily at it as if he couldn’t believe what he was holding in his hands. He lightly grazed his fingers across the strings, strumming a few chords and tuning, as needed.

  Shouts and whistles echoed through the room as he hopped up onto the table. Lifting his feet onto the bench seats below, he propped the guitar in his lap and stared at the ceiling, contemplating which song to play.

  “Freebird!” a kid in the back yelled.

  Several people laughed and more whistled. I couldn’t stop the smile from creeping onto my face. I looked around the room, watching everyone. It felt good to bring some joy into this place.

  Chris started strumming, getting a feel for the new instrument in his lap.

  “Ok guys, I’m going to play you a song.” He looked at me with something new in his eyes, an undeniable reverence. With a nod of his head, he said softly, “This is for you, Mrs. H. Thank you for everything.”

  He opened his mouth and his throaty yet velvety baritone almost took my breath away. I couldn’t move. I was frozen in place as I watched him. He was completely confident in his words and with how he played, like he was born to do this. And I wasn’t the only one under his spell. The entire room looked like it was on pause. No one moved a muscle while he poured his heart out. I stood there, wrapping my arms around my waist as tears pooled in my eyes. I was so proud of him. He gave us everything he had through his music—showing us the essence of his soul that moved nearly everyone to tears.

  With each strum of his fingers, the heavenly sound floated from the guitar while he thanked me through his lyrics. I clutched myself tighter, willing the tears away. He caught my gaze, pinning me down with the emotions behind his words.

  Would take a lifetime to find the right words to say,

  How much I appreciate every little thing.

  You picked up the pieces, restored my faith,

  Picked up my hand and showed me the way.

  His voice was crystal clear. Listening to his words, I knew the time Chris had left to serve at Fairbanks was limited. I wanted to cherish every last moment. The whole room listened intently, soaking in every note, every lyric. But this moment…this moment was mine—ours.

  When he sang his last word and held onto the last note until its last decibel disappeared into thin air, not a single person breathed. Perfect stillness filled the room, and I knew there would never be another moment like this at Fairbanks.

  “Thank you,” Chris whispered quietly to his audience.

  Then, as if his words snapped us out of our entranced spell, the room erupted with applause. Shouts of “Wow!” and “Hell Yeah!” filled the air.

  Chris caught my gaze once again. He silently mouthed the words, “Thank you.”

  I nodded once, bringing my hands up to my face and covering my mouth. Tears continued to fall as I watched him high five and fist bump the guys sitting around him. This is what I live for—this moment right here. Chris King, the kid who supposedly had nothing going for him, shook me to my core with his beautiful soul.

  ****

  A couple of very short weeks later, Chris bounded into my office. “Today’s the day, Mrs. Honeycutt!” He was a completely different kid than the first day I’d met him.

  “I know,” I said. A hint of sorrow laced my voice. I swallowed back the lump that was already forming in my throat. Today’s the day…

  He was leaving. He was walking out of my life and would probably never look back. This was the hardest part of my job—saying goodbye. Like breath in their lungs, these kids needed me while they were at Fairbanks, but the minute they walked out the door, I typically never saw them again. I was sure I crossed their minds from time to time, but they moved on with their lives as if I never existed while they left an imprint on my heart forever. I’d been dreading this day with Chris for weeks. I knew I’d made an impact on his life, and that’s all I could hope for. From this point forward, I would no longer be a joist in the architecture of Chris’s life. He would have to continue on without my support. And…

  I’ll have to continue on without his.

  For weeks, my heart had been drifting down slowly like a feather in the wind, knowing all along that this day would come. But as the final hour approached, it suddenly took a nosedive and smashed itself against the unforgiving ground.

  Chris pumped his fist in the air with excitement. “Can you believe it, Mrs. Honeycutt? I’m gettin’ outta here. I’m going home.”

  I just shook my head, unable to speak. Tears glossed over my eyes and I fought to hold them back. Willing my voice to cooperate, I spoke softly, “I’m so proud of you.”

  “Thank you,” he cheerfully replied, disguising the tone of wistfulness behind his voice.

  He looked so happy. I felt guilty for showing my grief over losing him, but I couldn’t help it.

  I swallowed back the lump that had already begun forming in my throat. “I’m excited for you, Chris. You have your whole life ahead of you. Just remember me when you get rich and famous.” I winked, using any tactic to disguise my anguish.

  Smiling thoughtfully, he asked, “How could I ever forget you?”

  I nearly strangled on the feeling of dread of the inevitable, as the weight of it suffocated me. “I certainly hope you wouldn’t.”

  “There’s no way,” he insisted, as we shared a moment between us—a moment of mutual respect and adoration.

  I had to be honest with myself. Life moved on. Moments were fleeting. People forgot. As he watched me with warmth in his eyes, the hammering in my chest reminded me that while his mind may forget, his heart never would.

  My voice cracked when I said, “You know, one of these days I’ll come and see you at one of your concerts.”

  Nodding, he said eagerly, “If you do, I’ll give you front row seats.”

  “I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” I choked out. This guy changed my life. He made me realize how important my role is in the lives of these kids here at Fairbanks. There would never be another one like him.

  Turning around, I grabbed the guitar from behind my desk. “Here,” I told Chris. “I want you to have this.” I held the guitar out for him in my trembling hands.

  Chris, wide-eyed with shock, he rasped, “Are you serious?” With a shake of his head, he stammered, “I…don’t know what to say…Thank you.” He reached out, taking the neck of the guitar in his hand.

  “I want you to go out there and make your mark. Show this world your amazing talent. You have a gift, Chris. Make me proud.”

  We stood there, staring at each other for a few quiet moments. Countless guys had come in and out of the door of Fairbanks Juvenile Detention Center. I could count on one hand how many kids I’d seen again since they’d left, but I could only count on one finger how many had made an impact on my life the way Chris had.

  Chris’s voice broke the silence. “I’ll miss you so much,” he whispered, his voice cracking, proof that as excited as he was to leave this place, he was having a hard time saying goodbye, too.

  “I’ll miss you too,” I said, blinking back my tears. Not now. Please, not now.

  Pulling a brown envelope out of his back pocket, he said sheepishly, “I have somethin
g I want to give to you, too. But you have to promise not to open it until I’m long gone.” He carefully placed the envelope on the corner of my desk.

  I glanced at it, wondering what could be in it. My fingers itched to open it, but I said, “Okay, I promise.”

  A knock at the door jolted me from my thoughts. Officer Blevins stood in the doorway. “Ready to go, Chris?” he asked. “Your mother is waiting out front.”

  Chris looked at me, hopeful. “Walk me out?”

  “Absolutely.” My voice still wavered with repressed tears.

  Following Chris out, I tried not to think of the inevitable. This may be the last time I would ever see him again. I willed my feet to move…to shuffle one foot in front of the other. I demanded the tears that were pooling in my eyes to stay put until the right time to fall. I can do this. I can, and I will.

  Chris’s mother sat with her purse on her lap in the waiting area. She hopped up the moment we walked through the door. Her mousy brown bob bounced when she rose from her seat. The wrinkles around her eyes and smile proved she’d seen some hard years in her young life. She looked to be about forty or so.

  Handing the guitar to me, Chris shouted, “Mom!” as he quickly ran into her awaiting arms.

  “Chris, I’m so happy to see you! I’m so glad I can finally take you home.” She squeezed her son, swaying him back and forth.

  Barry and I made our way over to their reunion of hugs and tears.

  Blinking back his tears of joy, Chris said, “Mom, I’d like you to meet Officer Blevins and Mrs. Honeycutt.” He flashed me a private smile.

  Chris’s mother extended her hand to each of us. “It’s nice to you meet you both. Thank you for taking care of my boy.”

  “It was our pleasure,” I told her sincerely as I shook her hand. “Your son sure is something special.”

  Chris looked at me and grinned. “I wouldn’t have made it without Mrs. Honeycutt, Mom. She helped me get through some pretty rough days.”

  I smiled warmly. Keeping the conversation light, I said, “Thanks, Chris. It’s what I do.” I winked and pointed at the badge on my shirt with title ‘counselor’ under my name.

  Chris laughed—a deep, hearty laugh I knew I’d miss echoing down the halls of Fairbanks.

  But, I couldn’t allow myself to think of that. The lump in my throat immediately returned.

  “Good luck, Chris,” Officer Blevins gave Chris a firm handshake. “Now go out there and make us proud.”

  “Yes, sir,” Chris said, giving him a quick salute.

  “Well, honey, are you ready to go home?” his mother interjected, pulling the strap of her purse across her shoulder.

  Chris nodded at her, taking a deep breath. “More than ever.”

  He glanced back at me sorrowfully. We shared one last pensive stare, knowing the moment we’d both been dreading was upon us. “Thanks again, Mrs. Honeycutt…for everything.”

  My lower lip quivered as I held the guitar out to him. “You’re so very welcome. Take care of yourself, Chris.”

  His jaw twitched with hindered emotion. Looking down at the guitar as I handed it back to him, he said softly, “I hope I earn this.”

  We all stood in silence for another moment. Then his mother curled her arm around his waist and led him out the door. Just like that, he was gone. Like the dew that vanishes in the mid-morning heat, he was disappearing from our lives.

  I walked to the door, watching them walk down the stairs. As soon as they reached the bottom, I stepped outside, watching them turn and walk down the sidewalk. I took a deep, staggering breath. He’s leaving. This is it.

  Goodbye, Chris.

  ****

  CHRIS

  Besides my dad, I’d only had to say goodbye to someone I truly cared about once before. And I guess we all know how that turned out. Kaitlyn was no longer a part of my life and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it. Now here I was again, having to say goodbye to yet another important person in my life.

  I was beyond ready to go home. I couldn’t wait to sleep in my own bed. I was eager for my life to get back to normal. But, there was one thing I wasn’t prepared for…I wasn’t ready to say goodbye to Mrs. H. This woman had been a bright spot in my darkest days. She helped me get through a lot of ridiculously long and miserable days. Saying goodbye to her was the hardest part of leaving Fairbanks.

  My mom looked so happy. I couldn’t wait to get home and shoot some hoops with my little brother. I was even excited to see Murdock, my mom’s annoying, little wiry-haired terrier. But saying goodbye to Salem…I just didn’t want my time with her to end. I needed her. I know she needed me too, but I needed her more than she could ever imagine. How would I deal with being back home again, knowing my father was still locked up in prison? How would I cope with bumping into Kaitlyn for the first time? I wanted to be able to go to her any time I needed to talk to someone about something.

  I don’t know what I would have done without her the night I found out about Kaitlyn. Salem, who I now saw as less of a counselor and more as a friend, was the one who was there for me. She listened to me. She understood me. She was my rock.

  And at the same time, I knew she needed me too. I hadn’t so quickly forgotten about the cut on her wrist and the dark circles around her eyes. I also hadn’t forgotten the story about her trip to Italy with her father and how broken she seemed over it. Or what about the tears that she’d cried privately in her office, but wiped away the moment I walked in? I knew I would worry about her too. I wanted to be able to make sure she was okay. But I couldn’t, and I knew that.

  Walking away from her that day was going to be one of the hardest moments of my life, but I had to play it cool. I had to be strong, but seeing her lip quiver as she spoke completely shredded my heart. Damn, I want to make her proud.

  My mother curled her arm around my waist, eager to get out of there, but I was having a hard time walking away. I wanted her to understand my resistance, but how could I make her comprehend what Salem meant to me? How much I needed her? How I just wanted to wrap my arms around her and thank her again for being there for me?

  If I’d said any of those things to my mom, she wouldn’t have understood the depth of our connection without twisting it into something ugly. So instead, I let her pull me away from the only other person, besides Kaitlyn, I’d ever opened up to—the only other person who knew me inside and out, good and bad.

  I trudged down the sidewalk toward the exit gate in the worst fucking mood I’d been since that night Salem let me blubber on her shoulder. I was walking out of Salem’s life and leaving her behind. I knew I may never see her again. I could feel her presence in my life diminishing with every step I took. I didn’t want to need her so much. I couldn’t understand what it was about this woman that made me feel so attached to her. I knew I needed to forget her, but I couldn’t let her go that easily.

  I put one foot in front of the other, and right before the guard unlocked the gate to let us out, I just couldn’t take it anymore. Ripping myself away from my mother’s grasp, I sprinted back toward Salem for the hug that was long overdue. I needed to wrap my arms around her and let her know that I’d never forget her for everything she’d done for me…for everything she meant to me. I wasn’t sure I could move forward without her.

  When I reached the top step where she was standing, I saw her tear-streaked cheeks and the redness around her eyes. This was just as hard for her as it was for me.

  I held my arms out for her, and she barreled into them. Clasping the back of her head with my hand, I clutched her against me. My heart slammed in my chest. I would never forget this woman who picked up the pieces of my shattered heart and helped me mend them back together one piece at a time. She encouraged me to go after my dreams, sat by me in my darkest moments, and was there for me when I needed someone the most. I loved her for everything she was to me. We both whimpered with stifled tears, wallowing in our sorrow just a moment longer.

  “I believe in you, Chris
,” she whispered against my chest.

  I held her close as her warm tears dampened my shirt. For a few earth-shattering seconds, we lingered in each other’s embrace, trying to suppress our emotions. Everything about that moment was devastatingly perfect.

  Pulling away slowly, I released her. I slid my hands down the length of her arms, hoping she’d understand my reluctance to leave.

  “Go,” she urged me. “You’ve planted your roots, now go spread your wings.”

  This was it. I knew I had to flick these broken fragments of my heart off my sleeve and walk away. I tried my best to keep my lip from trembling as my voice cracked, “Thank you for believing in me.”

  Goodbye, Salem Honeycutt. You’re one of the best fucking things that ever happened to me. I hope you know that.

  I quickly dropped her hands and sprinted back to my mother who was waiting for me near the gate. I couldn’t turn around to wave goodbye to her, knowing she’d see how utterly shattered I was. But I also couldn’t bear the thought of driving away from her, knowing I’d left her heartbroken on the sidewalk.

  I walked out the gate, sank into the car, and turned up the volume on the radio while I listened to my mom chatter on and on about nothing important. Restraining my tears, I kept my eyes glued to the road ahead of us. I refused to look back. It was just easier that way.

  ****

  SALEM

  I stood in silence, covering my face in my hands. I had completely forgotten about Barry standing behind me in the doorway until he walked up beside me and wrapped his arm around my shoulders, gently pulling me toward him. “It’s okay to cry, Salem,” he whispered. “Some kids touch our lives deeper than others.”

  With his permission, I curled into his arms and sobbed. He held me and gently swayed me back and forth until I was gasping for breath against his chest.

  “You did your job, Salem. He’s a good kid. He’s gonna be fine,” Barry assured me.

  “Thank you,” I somehow managed to say. “Thank you for everything.”

  “One thing is for sure. You have found your calling. These kids love you as much as you love them. I’ve never seen such reform in all the years I’ve been at Fairbanks. Sometimes working in this field can make you calloused. Don’t ever let go of that compassion you have. Don’t lose yourself. Don’t let yourself get burned out. These kids need you. That much is obvious.”