by Leddy Harper
“That doesn’t change the fact I have one.”
“And you can’t do anything about that. So why obsess over it? Why be so distraught over having a prosthetic leg when no one sees it? Mike was right when he said you’re the one setting your own limitations. You talk about how you can’t get your leg wet. I did some research…did you know they have waterproof legs available?”
I shook my head, not caring to hear what she had to say any longer. It had begun to feel like a personal attack. Like her and Mike had teamed up against me and I was left to defend myself. Yet I had no defense.
“You have it in your head your issues stem from our moment fifteen years ago. That had it not happened, you never would’ve been sent off to war. You never would’ve lost your leg. This morning you told me how blaming yourself over what we shared way back then has kept you from moving forward. If you want my opinion, Nolan, I don’t think it’s any of those things.”
“What are you talking about? Of course it is.”
“No, it’s not. I think it’s a safe bet to say the fuse had been lit long before that. Whatever it was, something else started it. The war, the leg, the recovery…those things amplified it. And then your inability to forgive yourself has held you back. I’m not saying everything you’ve been through hasn’t been damaging. But I honestly believe had you not experienced those things, something else would’ve set it off.”
“Then what is it, Novah? Huh? If it wasn’t watching people die or losing a valuable body part, what has me so fucked up?”
“I can’t answer that.” Her tiny voice was such a stark contrast to the heated mood inside the car. The anger shrouding me seemed to have not affected her in any way. “That’s something you have to figure out. But in order to do that, you have to stop blaming the other things. Stop putting so much emphasis on your leg or on going to war.”
I pulled the car into the parking garage and turned into my space. After throwing the gearshift into park, I said, “I was a normal person before that happened. So I’d have to disagree with your assumption.”
Novah didn’t respond. She didn’t look at me or even acknowledge I was there. She simply removed her seatbelt and then stepped out of the car. Even as I met her around the back, she was cold and distant. I tried to give her a hug, but all I got in return was a loose arm around my waist before she turned and headed out of the garage to the visitors’ parking lot.
I watched as she walked out into the deluge of rain, moving farther and farther away from me. Everything inside ached. My chest constricted to the point I believed I’d had a thousand-ton brick crushing me. My head pulsed and my eyes burned.
I didn’t want her to walk away from me.
I needed her.
So I took off after her, not caring I’d get soaked in the process. Every step, every time I called out her name in panic, she ignored me and kept walking. I chased her down until we both reached her car.
I grabbed her arm and spun her around until we were chest to chest. Then I held her face in my hands, forcing her to look at me, not giving her a chance to get away. The rain pelted her face, but it didn’t stop her from keeping her eyes open and locked on mine.
“Don’t give up on me, Novah. Please. Don’t leave me. I need you.” The rain might’ve covered the tears on my face, but nothing could hide it from my voice.
She finally took a deep breath and closed her eyes briefly. Her posture seemed to relax against me, but I couldn’t allow myself to believe this was over.
“I’m not giving up on you, Nolan. I could never do that. But I also can’t sit back and watch you destroy yourself because you’re too blind to see the truth.” Her voice went in and out as melancholy clogged every word.
A sob wrenched itself from my chest just before my forehead fell to hers. I hated myself for this. I hated myself because I couldn’t fix anything, and because of that, she had given up on me.
“I’ve done all I can for you. The rest is up to you, Nolan. Only you can fight this battle. You really need to take a good look at your life and figure out the root of it all, and then conquer it. You’ve already begun to deal with everything else, but you’ll never truly get over it if you don’t address the initial hurdle.”
“I need you…” I cried, my eyes tightly shut.
“No you don’t. I’m nothing more than a crutch for you. You have to do this on your own. You have to stand on your own two feet and defend yourself. I can’t fight your battles for you.”
“Please…”
“I love you, Nolan. That will never change. And I’ll always be here. Whenever you need me, I’ll be here.”
The fight inside returned as I realized her words. I released my hold on her and took a step back. “You’re leaving me. You’re giving up on me. You said you weren’t doing that. But you are.”
Novah reached out and grabbed the front of my shirt, pulling herself against me. “I’m not going anywhere. And I’m certainly not giving up on you. But I can’t continue to be your cheerleader if you won’t get off the bench and get in the game. I can’t do this for you. You have to be the one. Only you can figure out the true reason you’ve locked yourself up so tight in your own head.”
I wanted to walk away.
I wanted to kiss her.
I wanted to yell at her.
I wanted to grab her and hold tight.
But instead of doing any of those things, I only stood there and stared into her eyes, the ones that had always reminded me of the ocean. Except instead of calm waters, they were raging, threatening to take me down.
I couldn’t breathe.
“If I don’t walk away now…if you don’t find the courage to fight for yourself and continue to place all the weight of this battle on me, I’ll be the one dead in the end. I’ll be the one suffering. And I refuse to do that. You seem to think I’m the key to your salvation. But really, it’s you. And if we don’t realize this or acknowledge it, nothing will ever change. And I’ll be the one dying in the trenches of your pain.”
The rain had completely soaked through my clothes and left my skin chilled. I shivered, but I wasn’t entirely sure it was because of the water.
I grabbed her wrists and pulled them away from me, holding them between our bodies. “Just go, Novah. Save yourself.” And then I let go of her and walked away.
I walked away from the only thing good in my life.
I have no idea how I managed to make it through the next two days. I couldn’t sleep and I had no appetite. I barely spoke to anyone, except Mike when he came to my office Tuesday morning.
I apologized to him for my behavior and for upsetting Shari, but other than that, I only listened to what he had to say.
Well, “listened” is a loose exaggeration.
He pretty much gave me a bunch of psychobabble about what he believed to be my problem. I couldn’t keep track of the amount of times he told me I would never get over the self-loathing if I didn’t do something about it. I wanted to question his method of treatment, but decided to keep that to myself. I’d insulted him enough and didn’t need to further destroy the friendly relationship we’d built.
Before he left, he asked me once more to reconsider his offer to go cage diving with him. To shut him up, I told him I’d think about it. But honestly, there was nothing to think about. The last thing I wanted to do was sit on a boat with one leg and shoot the shit with people who had no idea the struggles I lived with. Hell, even Mike had no idea the darkness inside my head. Just because he’d lived through some of the same experiences doesn’t mean he understood mine.
I left the office a little earlier than usual to get ready for my father’s banquet dinner in Tampa. It was about two hours away, but I knew traffic would be heavy. So I gave myself plenty of time to get there without having to rush.
What I really wanted to do was get in bed and stay there forever, covered in blankets and shrouded in darkness. I didn’t want to paint on a smile and mingle with plastic people. But I’d promised my dad
I would. And he needed my support.
So I sucked it up and went.
I couldn’t be the man Novah needed, and I more than likely wasn’t the son my father needed, but I didn’t have a choice.
It wasn’t until I walked into the banquet that I realized what a huge mistake I’d made. It wasn’t the people or the suits, nor was it the atmosphere I’d grown up around. It was my father. It was his words that left me wanting to run as far away as I could.
“Don’t fuck this up for me.”
Twenty-One
After getting inside and greeting my mother, I decided to keep to myself. The last thing I wanted to do was piss my dad off by either saying the wrong thing, or, as he said, “looking miserable.” So I stood along the far wall and observed everything going on around me.
Every now and then someone would come up to me and try to start a conversation. I did my best to sound upbeat and encouraging, but most of the time, they said the same things.
“You must be proud of your dad.”
“How excited are you?”
“Are you looking forward to the White House?”
My answers were various versions of the same response. Did they honestly expect me to say I wasn’t proud of him, or that I wasn’t excited? It didn’t matter if I thought it was the worst idea since reusable condoms. I still wouldn’t say it. I only wished they’d stop asking such ridiculous questions.
Eventually, one of the hired photographers came around. He stood next to me against the wall with a bottle of water, so I assumed he was there to take a break. Since I was tired of random people coming up and asking questions I didn’t care to answer, I decided to talk to him in the hopes it would ward off intruders. I only meant to look busy; I had no intention of actually carrying on a decent conversation.
It started with me asking about his camera. I didn’t even know what had possessed me to do so, but for whatever reason, the question came out. He let me hold it as we talked about different models and their functions. When he started asking me questions, I found myself opening up to him.
“What kind of photography are you into?”
I peeked through the viewfinder and scoured the room through the lens. “I’ve always been partial to nature, except I’ve recently learned to love the art of people.”
I didn’t elaborate on that. He wouldn’t understand if I told him about Novah and how seeing myself in her photos did something to me.
“Family portraits and such?”
“No…not exactly.” I lowered the camera and studied the functions as I spoke. “It’s the eyes. If you get the right shot, you can tell so much about a person in them. Like a story.”
He took the camera from me when I handed it back and then wrapped the strap around his neck. Not once did he look at anything other than me as we talked.
“You know, most people never really identify with the exact point of their passion. Take photography for example. We know we like the art. We know we thoroughly enjoy being behind the lens, capturing moments on film that will last a lifetime, well beyond typical expiration dates. The problem is, photography isn’t just about one thing. You can take a picture of just about anything or anyone—it’s limitless—so most of us aren’t in touch with the exact purpose of our skill.”
His words silenced me as I thought about them. It seemed so absurd someone wouldn’t know exactly what it was they liked about something, but then again, I couldn’t really argue. After all, I’d always loved taking pictures, yet it hadn’t been until recently that I found myself pulled into one aspect.
“I think it’s amazing you know what it is you like to shoot, and why it’s so important to you. Just having that on your side means there won’t be anything holding you back. You can usually tell the truly gifted artists from the ones with natural yet unrefined talent.”
I smiled and nodded, my words turning to knots in my throat. “I’m not really a photographer. I actually own a small loss-prevention security company back home. It’s just a hobby I had in high school I’ve recently picked back up.”
He slapped his hand on my shoulder and let his grin spread wide on his face. “It doesn’t matter if you make a penny or spend a penny doing it, so long as it’s something you love. Hobby or job, it doesn’t matter.”
“Thanks, man.”
“No problem. Listen, my break time is over. I should get back to work, but it was nice talking to you. Best of luck in whatever you do.” And then he left, smiling at the crowd.
I stood frozen in place, letting his words circle around in my head. Sometimes you meet a stranger, and that’s all they are to you—a stranger. But every now and then, you meet someone, whether you get a name or not, and they change everything. With one look, one word, or once sentiment, it’s as if they’ve shined a light on something in your life and given you the chance to see it differently. That’s what he’d done for me.
But before I could bask in the glory of acceptance, my father spotted me and strolled over. I could tell by his gait, along with his stern expression, he wasn’t pleased, and I could only assume it had something to do with me.
“Are you the help now? Shouldn’t you be out in the room talking to influential people instead of standing in the corner all alone or conversing with the ones who have been hired to work? How exactly do you expect to support me if you isolate yourself?”
My hands fisted at my sides. I didn’t want to lose my patience with him in the middle of his big night, but he was testing my resolve. What I really wanted to say was, “Why can’t my support be enough? Why do I have to convince people who I’ll never see again that I’m on your side?” But I didn’t.
I chose to keep my thoughts to myself and walked past him. He’s the one who’d told me not to fuck up his night, and that’s what I was doing by keeping to myself. Now he wanted me to mingle, which only introduced the possibility of me ruining his time. I didn’t argue, considering it wouldn’t have done any good.
With a fake smile plastered on my face, I roamed around the room. When people would ask, “Is there a chance we’ll see you in a political office one day?” I had to bite my tongue. I would’ve liked to reply with, “Not a chance in hell,” but decided “No, I’ll leave politics up to the old man” sounded better.
Luckily, I hadn’t been thrown to the wolves for too long before my mom came to my rescue. She helped field a lot of questions for me and eased the worry that had begun to drag me down.
I sat with both my parents for dinner, and a few couples I’d never met before joined us at our table. It wasn’t too bad since most of the conversation didn’t include me and had been between the other men.
Once dinner was over, my father and the other guests we sat with excused themselves, leaving me with just my mother.
“You look well, Nolan. How have you been doing?” She turned in her chair and placed her hand over my forearm. “I haven’t talked to you in a while. Anything new going on?”
The thing about my parents was they were night and day. However, they worked together like a well-oiled machine. Just like with time, you couldn’t have the day without the night and vice versa. Where I was skittish to tell my dad things, it came easier to open up to my mom.
“I’ve been seeing someone,” I said before my throat closed up. “Well, I guess not really anymore.”
“Why not?” Her brow furrowed with concern.
My mouth opened and closed so many times, I worried I’d never be able to speak again. I grabbed my glass of water and hoped it would help compose me enough to talk. The mere thought of Novah walking away from me made me want to vomit.
“Do you remember Novah Johnson?” I asked, watching her eyes go wide and bright at the same time. “Well, I had been seeing her. But I think she finally gave up on me the other night.”
“The girl from high school?”
I nodded and heard her whisper, “Oh.” I knew I shouldn’t have said anything, but it was my mom. I’d never had trouble talking to her before, only whe
n my father was around.
I knew she was the same way, though. If it were just the two of us, she spoke freely. Yet around my dad, she had a tendency to either side with him if he were talking, or do nothing other than sit in silence. She seemed afraid of him, but she grew up believing in the importance of putting up a united front.
They were the team.
I was an outsider.
“I’m really happy to hear you’ve reconnected with her. It must’ve done you some good because you appear much better than when you left home. Although, I’m sad it’s ended. It doesn’t sound like something you were ready for.”
“I love her, Mom. I believe I loved her all those years ago, and every minute in between. She’s really helped me overcome so much, but I don’t think she wants to be held down by me anymore.”
“I’m sure that’s not the case.”
“She kind of got me back into photography,” I blurted out, not really thinking about my words. After my chance encounter earlier, an odd sense of confidence took hold of me, and the apprehension over the subject seemed to wane.
“That’s amazing. You’ve always loved it. I really wish you had never given it up. You were so gifted with the camera.”
My easy stare turned into a glower, and I could sense it in every muscle in my face. Even without that, I would’ve been able to register it by her shocked expression. I hadn’t meant for that to happen, but it was one of those natural reactions I couldn’t have stopped even if I’d wanted to.
“Dad took photography away from me. He repeatedly told me how it would never get me anywhere and it was nothing more than a hobby. Then he shipped me off to war. How could you possibly be surprised I stopped taking pictures?”
The gentle touch she had on my arm slid down until she held my hand with hers, her confident gaze never leaving my face. “I’ve told you your whole life you should never do something unless it makes you happy. You should never be with someone unless you love them, and no matter what anyone else says, if there’s something you’re passionate about, nothing should ever get in the way of it. You have one life, son, and I thought you, more than anyone, would understand that meaning.”