In Memory

by CJ Lyons

  Noah grasped the doorhandle of a closet, pulling himself up with it, his thin shoulders shaking.

  I crossed the room, reaching to help him stand. I guided him as he stood up, an unseen force acting as support. He stood with his back to the door, staring at the black cloud of his father. There was a defiance in the pale blue of his eye; I watched his trembling jaw set, and he stood up a little straighter.

  “I won’t.” He said quietly, before repeating it louder, “I won’t. I won’t let you do this to me anymore.”

  “What?” His father’s voice rumbled past the smokey cloud, “You’re talking back now?”

  “This is wrong!!!” Noah yelled, slamming the palm of his hand against the door to emphasize his point, “Families are supposed to love each other!! Why don’t you understand that?!”

  “Shut up.” His father’s voice dropped in volume, but he held his position.

  “Why? Why don’t you love me? Aren’t fathers supposed to care for their sons? You should protect me from people who want to hurt me! Why don’t you act like you should?” Tears began rolling down his face, “Why!?”

  At this, the black cloud lessened somewhat, I could almost see his face.

  “Is it because I’m wrong? Because I’m cursed? That I was the reason for all your problems? Because Mother would be alive if not for me, and because I killed those people?” Noah strode forward, yelling at his father, who was recoiling, “Because I’m gay? There’s so many reasons, right?” He shoved his father, who still seemed to be in shock at his outburst, “What’s the reason now?!” He made to shove his father again, interrupted by a sharp blow to his face, knocking him to the ground.

  “Shut up… just shut up. Don’t say that.” The cloud rumbled, pulsing with dark hatred.

  Noah spat on the floor, pushing himself up and leaning against the door again. “What shouldn’t I say?” He stood again, “The truth? It is what it is! I’m still your son!”

  “You’ve been nothing but a burden from the day you first opened your freakish eyes! All you would do is cling to her, and you’re the reason she’s dead!”

  “Don’t blame her death on me! I watched you kill her! I watched you beat her to death! I watched you dig that hole in the garden!” Noah advanced again, his words sending his father back. “Don’t try and blame me for what you have done!”

  “Those kids who died, that’s all your fault! You little freak! All you do is kill everything around you! That’s why-!” His father stopped, and I could sense hesitation in the way he paused.

  “What? That’s why you’ve been trying to kill me? It won’t work.” Noah’s voice dropped, “I won’t die.” He looked more miserable then than ever. “I can’t die.”

  There was a long silence, and his father crossed the room to a writing desk, and opened a drawer. “Because I haven’t been using the right tool.”

  Before I knew what was happening, the deafening sound of a gunshot shattered the stillness, followed by another, and another. Noah cried out at one of these, and dropped to the ground, clutching his arm. Ruby blood gushed out of his right forearm as he squeezed it tightly with his left hand.

  “This is the only way you’ll die, isn’t it? I have to end it for good.”

  Noah struggled to his feet again. I found that admirable, he wasn’t allowing himself to be lowered anymore.

  “Then do it.” He leaned his head against the wall, swallowing as sweat ran down his face. “Bury me beside Mother.”

  His father’s hand shook as he held the gun, I could feel the lack of resolve in him. He closed his eyes, and Noah leapt forward, barrelling into him with all the force his frail body could manage. This knocked both of them to the floor, and the gun flew from his father’s loose grasp.

  Noah grabbed it, and scrambled to his feet. The black pistol stood out starkly against the porcelain white of his bony fingers. “This is the only solution. One of us has to die.” I could hear the sheer terror in his voice, it formed in a tumult in his eyes, shivering on his eyelashes before splashing down his face with the beads of sweat. “I won’t let you kill me anymore.”

  My breath hitched in my throat, and I moved between him and where his father lay. I knelt down, looking up at him, praying he could see me, that he would stop.

  He looked right past me, and pulled the trigger.

  The bullet zoomed through me, and I woke up very suddenly in my own bed.

  I pushed the blankets aside and sprang from my bed, kicking a pair of jeans into my hand and hastily tugging them on. I glanced at the clock as I did so, 3:42.

  So it hasn’t happened yet. I have to get to him, I have to stop him.

  I grabbed the handful of keys from my desk as I tore out of the door, and bolted down the stairs. I was in the garage in seconds, barely giving myself time to pull on a sweater and boots.

  My bike stood at the ready in the garage, beside the empty space reserved for the car. I jumped on it, jamming the key in the ignition and revving the engine, smacking the door opener and nudging forward impatiently.

  As soon as it opened enough for me to clear it, I shot forward, the movement yanking my chest in a way much akin to the terror shooting bullets into my heart.

  The street was slippery, but I drove fast anyway. I just had to get there as soon as I could. Familiar landmarks blurred past in the glow of the streetlamps, and snowflakes whipped past.

  They stung my face, and the cold speared through the fleecy cotton of my sweater. I had neglected to put on my helmet, which, after sliding around on the icy streets, was probably a good idea. I guess I don’t have to worry about dying. I have another whole month.

  Finally, I’m on his street. I accelerated, my hair flying back in the increasing winds. The gate was open, so I shot through it, feeling the tires slide alarmingly on the ice. They spun out, and the bike tilted to the left, before falling completely and sending me smashing hard into the icy driveway.

  Pain lanced up my arm and side, where I took the brunt of the fall. I rolled several times, finally resting on my back. The sound of the motor was rumbling nearby. I could taste blood in my mouth, and panicked for a second, suspecting internal damage. After a moment, I realised I had just hit my chin hard enough to split my lip.

  Thank whatever for that.

  Wait, I’m here. I have to—

  A gunshot sounded out. Then another. And another as I heaved myself off the ice.

  I hurried up the stairs and hurtled through the front door as another shot sounded out.

  Something sparked in my mind, a stab of fear, beckoning to me. In a daze, I followed the nightmarish memories through doors and hallways.

  I burst through the last door. The waves of fear and the harsh sting of blood crashed into me and almost knocked me back.

  Noah’s father lay at my feet, bleeding from the shoulder. He was breathing, not dead.

  My gaze drifted farther back into the room, widening as I saw Noah.

  He was standing with his back to the door, holding the gun to his temple.

  I couldn’t move. More than anything, him standing there like that, rendered me immobile.

  Abruptly, he cocked the gun.

  The noise shook me, freeing me from the grip of my initial immobilization. I stumbled over to him, my arms outstretched. Pain throbbed through my left arm, I ignored it.

  His grip was tense around the gun, the tendons in his hand and arm jutting out and creating sharp shadows. His head was tilted enough to darken his eyes, but I could tell he was crying.

  “Noah.” I said gently, feeling a fog meandering through my mind. I read somewhere that sustaining damage to your head after a serious concussion can be dangerous.

  Noah took a few shaky breaths, turning his head to look at me. There was an angry turmoil of emotions darting across his face, switching by the second. Terror, sadness, pain, hope, desolation, resignation.

  I wanted to grab the gun, but I was scared it might go off. All I could do was look at him, plead with my eyes alone.r />
  His lips parted, and he spoke, his voice cracking, “I will not miss. It will be quick.”

  “Noah, please.” It was all I could think of to say.

  “You were not supposed to be here. I was going to leave without saying goodbye. It was going to be easy.”

  Slowly, I touched his arm, the one holding the gun, never breaking eye contact.

  He stared at me, following a trail of blood running down my face.

  “Aerie…” his hand trembled on the gun. “What happened…?”

  There, he’s back. There’s a different tone in his voice, he’s not the same as he was a moment ago.

  I opened my mouth to speak, feeling as if someone filled it with cotton. Carefully, Noah lowered the gun, setting it back onto safety.

  He touched my face, smearing away some of the blood.

  “You’re hurt… what happened?”

  “Later. We’ll talk later. Where’s your phone?”

  Noah crossed the room to the writing desk, placing the gun on top of a stack of books. He grabbed the cordless phone from the desktop, and handed it to me with a strange sort of calmness.

  Quickly, I dialed Terra’s number, knowing she would answer. Late shifts.

  “Hello?”

  “Terra. We need an ambulance at 2514 Oakshield Avenue. Now.”

  “Wha- Aerian? What’s going on?”

  “Just send the ambulance, Terra!”

  “Oh my god, what-” she called the address out, and someone seemed to reply. “Aerian, what the hell is going on?”

  “Are they coming?”

  “Well, yeah! Now tell me what’s-”

  “I’ll tell you when we get there.”

  “Aerian!”

  “I’ll see you soon, Terra.”

  I hung up, and then looked to Noah’s gunshot wound, cupping my hand over it and holding it tightly. “They’ll be here soon.” We sunk down to the floor, and Noah gazed at the twitching form of his father unblinkingly.

  Moments later, we heard the sirens, and several people coming into the house.

  I called out to them, holding Noah beside me. “Here! We need help!”

  The footsteps thundered closer, and a bunch of people I recognized from work burst through the door. They were busy, and bustled about efficiently. Soon, we were all on our way out.

  As we were exiting, I leaned down next to Noah’s father, and whispered in his ear. “I know exactly what you did. Don’t even try to change this story.”

  He opened his eyes, and I made sure he could see me.

  Noah and I took a separate ambulance from him, and soon we were back in the familiar incandescent glow of the hospital.

  “Aerian!” Terra rushed me as the ambulance arrived. Noah was admitted immediately, and was whisked away for something. All of this was very foggy for me.

  I do remember filling Terra in on what happened, but I don’t remember exactly what I said. I guess my lack of sleep was catching up with me.

  She did freak out quite a bit though, and I’m pretty sure she said something about calling the police.

  I slept for a while, and then Terra woke me up, telling me I had to give a statement.

  It was those same detectives from before. The tall man and the kind woman.

  “We’re here to ask you some questions, is that all right?”

  “Sure.” I sat up, pushing my glasses onto my face.

  “Can you tell us what happened last night?”

  I glanced at the clock; it was 9:30 now. Nothing about last night had really set in yet, so it was easy to just say what happened.

  “I went to Noah’s house because I had a feeling something was going to happen… and then I heard gunshots, so I went in. Noah’s father was shooting at Noah, but he managed to get the gun. Then Noah shot his father to stop him.”

  “How did you know to go there at exactly that time?” The male detective asked, arching an eyebrow.

  “I just had a feeling.” I touched my lip, and aggravated the split, wincing. “So I went with it.”

  “And what happened after Noah shot his father?” Detective Seam asked. (She’s the nice lady detective. She gets a name, but Mr. Grumpy guy doesn’t. Ha. I’ll just call him Mr. Grumpy.)

  “That’s when I went in the room, and I got Noah to calm down, and we called for an ambulance, and well, here we are.”

  Mr. Grumpy still looked stern, as usual, and Detective Seam placed her hand on mine, smiling. “Thanks a lot for the information. You’re a hero. Now, get some rest. We might talk some more later.”

  As they were leaving I heard Detective Seam say something. “There’s no way that he can keep himself out of jail now.”

  I smiled as I snuggled back into my cot, hoping to get a few more hours of sleep before going to see Noah.

  When I woke next, the reality of everything started hitting me soundly, resonating in my body. I shook as I stood, and walked very carefully out of the room, trailing my hand over available surfaces as I passed them.

  That’s why I like hospital hallways, there’s those handy rails on either side to use as support. Quickly, I checked over the roster of patients in the nurse’s station, quickly finding Noah’s name in hasty handwriting.

  Room 306, so only one floor up from here.

  It was easy to find, but not so easy to enter. The door was locked when I tried it, and one of the senior nurses looked at me curiously as I struggled with it.

  “What are you doing, dear?” she asked, striding across the hallway. “No one’s allowed in there.”

  “Why not? This is Noah Talon’s room, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, but he requested that no one enter unless it’s absolutely necessary. I think he just needs some time alone after-“

  “I’m his boyfriend. Can’t you let me in?”

  She looked shocked at the bluntness of my statement, but made no move to open the door. “He didn’t say anything about you… are you sure…?”

  I turned to the door, hammering on it with my uninjured arm, shouting Noah’s name, which caused several nurses to shush me from various places. I heard his voice on the other side.

  “Aerie…!”

  “Let me in!” I answered, not even caring about the ‘shushes’ coming from all angles.

  The senior nurse pursed her lip and unlocked the door, swinging it open and allowing me entrance. I guess it’s so I’d stop shouting through the door.

  Noah was lying in bed, a white blanket covering him. There was a thick bandage across his arm, and a few bandages on his face.

  “Aerie… you’re really okay.” He sighed, he must’ve really been doped up on some good painkillers. “I dreamed of something horrible while you were gone.” His eyelids drooped as I approached, and he took a few deep even breaths through his mouth.

  “Noah, are you…” I stopped, not even bothering to ask.

  “If I dream when you’re not here, I’m going to sail right into a storm.” He mumbled, and grabbed my arm. “Guide me, Aerie.”

  I didn’t really feel anything there, he was so clouded by the drugs.

  “Stay with me. Always and forever.” Noah’s grip slackened, but his request was clear all the same.

  I climbed onto the bed beside him, arranging the blankets and pillows until I was certain we were both comfortable. It helps that he’s so skinny.

  “Look, a sunrise.” He murmured, before relaxing in my arms.

  “It’s nice.” I replied, deciding to just go with it.

  We slept for a long time, and I was only awakened once, when Terra was in to change his IV. Nobody seemed to care that I was there.

  After a while, I couldn’t sleep any more, so I just lay there beside him. He clung to my shirt, and kept murmuring indistinct words. I only caught a few of them, something like “Listen to the prophet, the waters.”

  Noah says some of the weirdest things when he’s sleeping.

  At about six this evening we went home. Back to our home, where he belonged. Terra drove us h
ome, and had that look on her face that meant “serious business”, and that we were going to have a “talk” when we got home.

  Noah was mostly silent on the way home, and stared out the window, with the white light of winter illuminating his face. His injured arm is in a sling.

  As we got in, he turned to both of us with an apologetic expression, “Do you mind if I continue to sleep? I am still very tired.”

  “Go right ahead, honey. Aerian, make sure his room is all ready, alright? I’ll put the kettle on.”

  I opened the door to Noah’s room, knowing it was already tidy. He kept it that way, of course it was clean.

  “Thank you, Aerie.” He took my hand, “I cannot say it enough. I…” Noah broke off, yawning widely.

  “We can talk later, if you’re tired.”

  He nodded, and settled into bed. In minutes, he was asleep, but I waited with him until I was sure. I had to stay with him.

  Terra was just unplugging the kettle when I went into the kitchen. I took over, and made the tea, aware that a conversation was going to happen.

  “So.” She looked at me seriously, “Let’s hear it.”

  I sighed, and pretty much regurgitated what I told the police.

  “Right, so what are you leaving out, then?”

  “Huh?”

  “You didn’t just ‘have a feeling’. What aren’t you telling me?”

  “The feeling was because of a dream I had. I saw… everything. I was there like a ghost, and I saw his father hitting him. But Noah was fighting back this time. Then his father got a gun out, and… well… yeah.”

  “So, you had a dream about him and his father before?”

  “Huh?”

  “You said he was fighting back this time. Which I’m taking to mean you’ve dreamt of something like this before.”

  “I have… of the time when he… was cut up. The first time he was here.” I cinched my eyebrows, just remembering the sights, the sounds.

  She put her hand on mine, “Honey… you don’t have to tell me that one. Now, why don’t you go and relax upstairs for a while, and we’ll sort out dinner and stuff later, okay?”