Keep Forever

by Alexa Kingaard

  Chapter 23

  Two years after Rex was born, Paul and Elizabeth welcomed their second child, a daughter they named Lily. It wasn’t a difficult decision to name her after Paul’s mother. Lily rounded out their lives and brought another dimension of joy to their growing family. They had long since settled into their cozy little bungalow by the beach. When Paul played with Rex in their massive backyard, Elizabeth would wrap Lily in a papoose-style blanket and hold her close to her chest, which freed her arms to do chores around the house. Sometimes she joined her boys on the back porch and rocked Lily into a peaceful slumber.

  “This is all I ever wanted,” she would think as she watched Paul and Rex chase each other in and out of the bushes, hide behind trees, and see who would win the race to the back fence. Elizabeth never doubted she was the luckiest girl in the world.

  )

  One afternoon Elizabeth noticed she hadn’t heard a peep from Rex for at least ten minutes. After settling Lily into the baby swing in the living room, she called him, “Rex, where are you? Where’s my little guy?”

  Rex had managed to open the door to their bedroom and pull a cardboard shoe box off the dresser, scattering its contents on the floor. It was the box that was the depository of Paul’s daily treasures: watches, glasses, pens, receipts, and anything else that would fit. To him it was simply an easy way to keep everything in one spot, even though the box was overflowing. In the corner of the room, Rex tried to balance his father’s glasses on his nose while he twisted them with his chubby little fingers. She saw one of the bows had broken off and, after being held together with white adhesive tape for years, held out little hope they could be repaired.

  “Why don’t you throw these old, useless things in the trash? They’re from Vietnam, for crying out loud. The prescription can’t be any good anymore.” Elizabeth questioned Paul on more than one occasion, and his answer was always the same.

  “You never know when I might need a second pair. Please, Elizabeth, leave them alone. Don’t throw them out.” Paul refused to throw anything away, and the stacks of “keepsakes” were getting increasingly higher and more unmanageable. Elizabeth could only hope this accident would prompt Paul to throw out the old glasses, but knew that even if he did get a new pair, these would never be abandoned.

  “No, no, Rex. I have to take those from you and your daddy’s not going to be happy you broke his glasses.” Rex looked over with his beautiful, big blue eyes that matched his father’s, and handed them to his mother. Simple as that. No tantrums, no tears. Not much upset their little boy. She set them on a closet shelf, put everything back into the shoe box, and led Rex into the dining room. At the same time, Paul pulled into the driveway, and she allowed Rex to tug at the front door to open it for him. Without waiting for his father to set down his lunch box or jacket, Rex jumped up and down and begged to be picked up. As always, Paul didn’t hesitate to gather up his son and let him slobber all over him with the well-practiced kiss of a two-year-old.

  With the children down for the night, Elizabeth retrieved the fragmented glasses from the bedroom and handed them to Paul. “I think it’s time to consider buying a new pair. I didn’t realize how big Rex is getting. He opened the door to our bedroom when I was tending to Lily and pulled over your shoe box that was on the dresser. Nothing appeared to be harmed or out of place except your glasses. Maybe it’s time to replace them.”

  She looked at Paul’s crestfallen face and saw he was more hurt than upset with Rex, and probably wouldn’t relinquish the now-unusable pair of glasses. Paul got up from his chair, turned down the TV, and took them from Elizabeth’s hand. He walked into the bathroom and reached for the adhesive tape. Like a little boy trying to breathe new life into a dying pet turtle, he wrapped the fractured and inanimate friend one more time, a fragile cast of white tape that grew larger than the actual pair of glasses. Without a word, he walked into the bedroom, pulled out the shoe box from the safety of the closet shelf, and laid the glasses on top of the overflowing stack of paraphernalia.

  Paul stepped back into the living room, turned up the volume on the TV, and motioned for Elizabeth to join him. “Time for Johnny.”

  Chapter 24

  School breaks and summertime were favorite moments for Elizabeth and the children. While most mothers complained about needing more adult companionship and longed for the fall semester to start, Elizabeth never understood. She loved spending time at home with Rex and Lily. They built cities out of cardboard boxes in the backyard or took the short walk to the beach to spend an hour or so in the sand.

  Whenever possible, Paul would join them, but more and more frequently he spent overtime hours at work, catching up on reports that were too time-consuming to complete during his regular hours. He never asked to get paid for the additional time, nor was it ever offered to him. He took his job as a mall security officer seriously, but his self-confidence eroded in his menial, dead-end position. Except for the fact that it supported his family and allowed Elizabeth to stay home with the children, work brought him little joy. His moods shifted from easygoing and mellow to agitated and distressed. His headaches were becoming more frequent, and he was becoming more of a stranger with every passing day. He resembled little of the man Elizabeth and the children knew and loved.

  Paul often fell asleep in his lounge chair as the TV droned in the background, the radio set at an almost-inaudible volume in the kitchen. The scene was becoming too familiar, and the whole household was restless. Paul’s frequent outbursts in the middle of the night, of which he had no recollection, concerned Elizabeth, and Rex and Lily knew that something wasn’t right with their father.

  “Why does Daddy get up in the middle of the night and crawl around on his belly?” A frightened Lily broke into tears as she told her mother what she saw her father do the night before.

  Elizabeth lifted her little girl and settled her on her hip. She stroked her delicate, baby-soft arm as if to demonstrate. “You know how sometimes your arm falls asleep and you have to shake it around to wake it up? That’s all it was, sweetie. Your Daddy’s arm fell asleep.”

  An easy explanation for a six-year-old, but she knew the truth was not so simple. Paul was fighting demons she dared not imagine. They were recurring episodes. Almost nightly he would throw over a coffee table to hide from an invisible enemy, seek cover behind the couch, huddle in the corner with a watchful eye on the door, or flatten his body on the floor, slowly pulling himself along the baseboards. After she dried the final dish from that morning’s breakfast and wiped the last crumb off the counter, Elizabeth sat down in the living room, the worn Yellow Pages in hand. She licked her right index finger to turn the fragile pages and stopped at “PSY” for “Psychiatrist.” Hands shaking and not sure she was doing the right thing, she went by instinct and the sound of the doctor’s name to determine her choice of professionals for her broken husband.

  )

  Elizabeth wasn’t sure how Paul was going to react or even how she should approach the subject, but after settling Rex and Lily with a favorite bedtime story, she finally had a free moment for her husband. Paul was nowhere to be found. She searched the entire house, then scoured the pitch-black backyard. The whole street was dimly lit, and once the sun went down, it wasn’t easy to see even the closest object.

  Paul once told her, “You don’t know dark. Dark is a jungle, a long line of weary, battle-scarred comrades, stealthily trudging a breath away from one another, seeking out an enemy you can neither see nor hear. Dark is fear and uncertainty and knowing that death can grab you in an instant. Dark is hearing your heart beat like a giant kettle drum and feeling the blood rush through your veins because there is no sound, no light, and no sense of anything around you but your own terrified soul. That’s all I’m going to say. This backyard is not dark.”

  Elizabeth heard those words in her head as she continued to search for Paul. What was a child’s dream playground during daylight hours, with room for cardboard cities, Sli
p ’N Slides that stretched the length of the property, and temporary forts for lunchtime shelter, took on a different tone once the sun went down. One good rain could bring a densely, tangled web of tall grass, and although Paul worked every weekend to manage the growth, he could hardly keep up with it in the winter months. Coyotes roamed in the darkness, concealed themselves behind bushes, and waited for an opportunity to pounce. It was not unusual to hear the cries of the pack as they made their way through the yard and found a small animal that tried to escape their grasp, but failed to break away.

  )

  Paul was quiet when he left the house. He had made up his mind, and he knew how to appear and disappear without making a sound, a stealth tactic perfected by his training in that bitter conflict that robbed him of his self-worth, value, and ability to provide a more stable life to the family he cherished. Elizabeth won’t even realize I’m gone for another hour. Bathtime, story—by then it will be over.

  There was almost a spring in his step as he considered the ultimate sacrifice he was about to make for his wife and children. He had checked the train schedule before closing the door behind him for the last time, and had been careful to hide it under his box of treasures in the bedroom he and Elizabeth would never share again. He looked at his watch. One hour.

  Paul made it to the park on the corner within minutes. Every tree, every piece of playground equipment, and every picnic table remained motionless after the sun went down. Once darkness cleared and the early morning cloud cover parted for the sun, the park would come alive again with the happy sounds of children and young families. Delighted toddlers would hang on for dear life to the swings and merry-go-rounds, and older brothers would coax little sisters down the slide for the first time. Paul stopped briefly. The playground was pitch-black, deserted.

  I remember that day, the first time Lily went down the slide. Rex was behind her, legs around her waist, his arms tight around her shoulders so she wouldn’t be scared. He drew an audible breath. There was no stopping her after that. And nothing could stop Paul. He took one final look behind him, positive that Elizabeth had not yet noticed his absence.

  The sudden amplification of the freeway noise brought Paul back to the present. Sounds of the interstate, a constant drone in the background of nearby homes, interrupted the tranquility of this beautiful piece of paradise. Like a watermelon that falls gently to either side with one deft slice, the eastern portion of I-5 was punctuated by the serenity of older houses and quiet neighborhoods, while west of the freeway was a coastal ribbon, a thriving downtown village, and an open invitation to tourists year-round. Elizabeth had no problem with the expansion and ongoing growth on either side of the freeway. It made walking to entertainment much easier than packing everyone in the car, but Paul hated change. He couldn’t remember anything but Coast Highway when his parents bought their summer home in the early ’60s. He hardly heard the freeway sound anymore, except for tonight. Tonight he noticed everything.

  He quickened his pace and felt himself drawn towards the main intersection. He sensed how close he was to the ending he had planned so carefully. Memories of his mother started a meddling monologue. Mom, I’m almost there. I’ll see you and Dad soon. If everything you taught me is true, I’ll be there. I’m coming. Wait for me.

  By the time he found his way to Elm Avenue, he was short of breath. He glanced up at the street sign. He’d heard talk about changing the name of the main street to Carlsbad Village Drive, but the conversion stalled while the city worked with CalTrans, converted freeway signs, and reviewed the cost involved. Many locals hated the idea of a name change, but the city council felt it would increase revenue through additional tourism. He thought about the changes his family would see in years to come. This is the only way I can show them how much I love them. Paul’s thoughts raced as he checked his watch. Forty minutes.

  The noise and exhaust from the freeway off-ramp heightened his awareness. His heart beat faster and harder as he realized the tracks were mere blocks away, just within reach, his final destination. This is a good thing. Everyone will be happier. Can’t swallow one more pill. Nothing’s helping. Can’t sleep, can’t protect my family, mission failed.

  Consumed with his thoughts and momentarily blinded by oncoming headlights, Paul stepped off the curb against a red light and startled when a car swung left to the on-ramp, directly in his path. With the quick reflexes of a soldier in battle, he jumped out of harm’s way, missed by inches, and heard the blare of the angered driver’s horn, along with, “Asshole! What the hell are you doing?”

  )

  Every second that passed, Elizabeth grew more frightened. Her mind raced with horrible thoughts that he had found a way to silence his demons once and for all. She trembled to think that she was feeling only a sliver of the fear Paul must have felt when he marched through the jungles of Vietnam. The dime-store flashlight she had grabbed from the kitchen drawer seemed like little protection, but she hoped it would be a warning light for animals and a beacon for Paul to see her searching for him in the black night. Elizabeth was frantic. Trying not to wake the children and almost at a whisper, she continued to call his name as she made her way farther and farther into the shadowy backyard, peering behind bushes, checking out every tree, and becoming more and more fearful of what she might find. Oh, Paul, where are you? Dread crept into her thoughts, and even though she wanted to find him, she hoped she would not.

  )

  Paul could see the tracks, just past the supermarket, a couple of gas stations, banks, and fast-food restaurants lining Elm Avenue. Not sure what side of the street. Should I cross first? How long should I stand there? I should jump when it’s a few feet away. I don’t want anyone to stop me or get hurt trying to save me.

  Paul waited for the green lights at every intersection. He learned his lesson at the on-ramp. He didn’t want to get injured. He needed it to be done. He mentally checked off every block. He noticed the President’s names running north and south—Harding, Jefferson, Madison, Roosevelt, and finally State Street. He saw the railroad tracks with the train station to the north. He had made sure his train wasn’t scheduled to make a stop in the village. He needed the momentum of a fast-moving engine. He wanted quick and painless. I still have time for one last look at the water. He checked his watch again—thirty minutes.

  The winter sunsets came early, and even though it wasn’t quite seven o’clock, the streets were almost empty. The January night was unseasonably warm, and Paul realized the jacket he wore wasn’t necessary. He had considered leaving it behind, but grabbed it from the back of his lounge chair at the last moment. The zippered pocket would be the safest place for the note. He wasn’t sure if anyone would find what he had painfully penciled out if he tucked it into his jeans. Even if he put it inside his shoes, he had read that sometimes an impact such as this could knock them right off your feet. Paul wanted Elizabeth, Rex, and Lily to know how much he loved them.

  He scanned Coast Highway in the distance and noticed the brilliant outline of the new hotel. It was a beautiful addition to the village and the coastline. The Carlsbad Inn was an homage to old-world architecture, and as far as change was concerned, it was positive. Paul walked briskly, not much time before his train would arrive. He wanted to take in the breathtaking sound of the ocean one more time, pleased it was a clear night so he could see the lights bounce off the Oceanside pier to cast a shimmering glow on the water. I must say goodbye to this place I love. Five minutes, just five minutes. As he lowered his body to sit on the edge of the cliff, a perfect spot to listen to the crashing waves below, he glanced again at his watch. Twenty minutes. He reached inside his pocket and retrieved the note, written in his darkest moment, but with a resolve to bring an end to the pain and suffering for everyone.

  Perfectly folded in four quarters, he glanced at his uneven handwriting on the top right-hand corner, For Elizabeth. He imagined a police officer handing it to her after they retrieved his body, but dismissed the thought
with a shiver as he slowly unfolded the piece of paper, one corner at a time.

  Dear Elizabeth,

  I never wanted to leave you this way, but was always afraid I might. Remember the line in our song, ‘Maybe I’m Amazed?’ You’ve loved me more than I ever thought possible, but my soul is rotted, hollow. You can’t fix that. I can’t fix that. I’m not good for you. I’m not good for Rex or Lily. The music will never be loud enough. The memories will never be dim enough. You will eventually leave me and that would surely kill me. I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say. Please understand this is for the best. Take care of each other. I love you all—

  “Go home, Paul. You haven’t said goodbye. You can’t leave without saying goodbye.”

  Surprised and panicked, Paul turned to see who had spoken. How could he not know someone was standing in his space? Too close. He looked in every direction. He saw no one and tried to ignore it. His palms began to sweat and the once-fresh, crisp note started to wilt from the ocean air and his sticky hands. He wadded it up in ball and stuffed it back into his pocket. He hoped no one had been close enough to read it or peer over his shoulder. He thought he recognized the voice, a woman’s voice.

  “Mom? Was that you?”