Rise

by Leslie McCauley

  I feel someone wrap their arms around me and when I look up, it’s my mother. When did she get here oh, maybe I am dreaming? I wrap both arms tight around her and she comforts me.

  “Come honey, they are taking him by ambulance let’s go now so we can follow him,” she is stern and grabs me and pulls me to my feet.

  “Mom what are you doing here?” She looks confused.

  “You called me, Nettie! I couldn’t understand a word you said so I just came over and the paramedics were here. You don’t remember?” No, I don’t remember. Is this really happening?

  “Mom, am I having a nightmare?” She shakes her head no.

  “No baby, I’m afraid not. I wish you were.” She is sobbing now too. “C’mon I’ll call Daddy to meet us at the hospital. When we get in the car my head is spinning. I am so confused.

  “Mom, where are we going? This isn’t happening. I have a lot of nightmares like this. I’ll wake up. It’s fine. He’s fine. I think I better get on some sort of medication for this though. This is by far the most vivid. Can you wake me up now please?” My mother just looks at me in awe and shakes her head. She says nothing.

  When we arrive at the hospital, I am almost robotic, and she leads me into a room, where my Dad is already waiting. He rushes to my side and wraps his arms around me. He too is sobbing at this point, but I, however, am not.

  “Daddy, it’s okay, I am just dreaming that’s all. I’ll wake up soon and it will all be over,” I give him a reassuring smile. He shakes his head and squeezes me tighter. “It’s real isn’t it?” I whisper.

  My mother goes to the front desk and speaks to a nurse who leads us back into another room. We sit there for what seems like hours when a man, a doctor immerges in a white lab coat. I jump up first.

  “How is he? Can I see him now? I really should get him home and he is probably ready to eat I’m sure.” The doctor looks at me and frowns.

  “Dear, I am so sorry but your son. He didn’t make it.” I? He what? I turn to my parents and they both begin to wail.

  “I don’t understand.” I stare into his eyes waiting for him to give a different reply.

  “I am so sorry dear.” He places his hand on my shoulder and I am once again transported to the ceiling. She is crumpled in a ball rocking back and forth screaming. God, that screaming. Tell her to stop, it’s hurting my ears. It is absolutely piercing. When I finally manage to realize, I am the one making all the noise. I drift back down to my body. I look up at my mom and I see two of her.

  “I want to hold him,” I whimper. “I want to hold my baby.”

  A nurse is there and as gently as possible, tells us we can see him. I follow her down a long cold white hallway and feel like I am walking to my execution. When we arrive, it is not what I expect. They put me in a regular hospital room, and he is lying in a clear plastic hospital bassinet swaddled in a blanket. His dark beautiful hair is disheveled. I pick him up and kiss him on his forehead. I sit in a rocking chair nearby and begin to rock him gently. Smoothing his hair down with the tips of my fingers I begin to sing him a lullaby. I choose ‘Twinkle Twinkle Little Star’. When the song ends, I kiss each of his eyelids and say a prayer that he is in heaven with God. As I do, I don’t know if I truly believe he exists. I curse him in my head for taking the one bit of light I have in my life, my precious baby from me. My little warrior has been taken from me. The nurse comes in and tells me it’s time. I say one last goodbye to Evan.

  “Evan Tate Madison, I love you my whole heart and I always will. You don’t know the joy you have brought to my life. I will never forgive myself for not protecting you. It was my job and I failed. I love you, I love you”.

  *

  I don’t even know how I end up home, but my parents are trying to comfort me. I don’t hear a word they say. I go to the kitchen and fish out a bottle of wine taking a huge swig and break the bottle in the sink. My mother tries to put her arm around me, and I push her away.

  I march into Evan’s room and slam the door, locking it behind me. I slip off my shoes and pick up the blanket that he had been swaddled in, just hours before. I bring it to my nose and inhale deeply. I can’t help but begin weeping. My whole body heaving in emotion. I can smell him. I lift my leg up over the side of the crib and climb in. I place the blanket over my face and curl up into fetal position. All I can smell is lavender and baby. I shake in a rhythmic motion picturing his perfect little face in my mind. My baby. My Evan. My warrior. Why would God do this to me why? “WHY!?!” I scream. I lay there in his crib and cry until my head is throbbing and somehow or another I sleep.

  Chapter 18

  Aftermath

  When I wake, I rub my palms harshly over my face, hoping to wash away the image of my poor baby. I am still in the crib. His scent lingers over me. I haven’t been dreaming. It wasn’t a nightmare. It was real. My baby is gone. My heart is broken, shattered into a thousand pieces. I want to die.

  My head is pounding and there is a lump in my throat that won’t go away. I have no idea what time it is, whether it is the same day or not. I don’t care I want to go with him. I want to be with my son. I close my eyes again and begin to sob. What have I done in my life that is so terrible that I deserve this!

  There is a faint knock on the door. “Go away!” I scream at the top of my lungs.

  “Nettie, please let me in. Please baby.” It’s my father. His voice desperate. No, I don’t want to talk to anyone.

  “NO, go away. Leave my house! Let me be!” I want to sleep. I want to die. This can’t be happening. I want to rewind and be back to putting him to bed that night. I want things to start all over. I want to wake up and start our normal routine. I want us to go about our normal day and I want him to be fine. Please let me start again. I don’t want to leave this spot. I reach over my head and pull on the mobile and a soft song starts to play, and I close my eyes, tears streaming down my face again. I don’t know how much time has passed but eventually, the tears slow, until I feel as though I have not one left to shed. A giant lump remains in my throat and I can’t swallow it. I decide to try and peel myself out of the crib, still gripping his blanket in my hand. I shuffle into the kitchen and my parents are still there. They look broken and exhausted.

  My mother meets my eyes with relief. Maybe because I am not huddled in his crib anymore. “Honey, I hate to say this, but you need to think of arrangements.” This isn’t happening. How can I bury my son? A child I didn’t even want to have but now has completely transformed my life. My father then speaks.

  “A grief counselor called from the hospital and left her number. She also gave some information about a local support group for parents who have lost children to SIDS,” he can barely get the words out.

  “So, it was SIDS, officially?” I ask. I thought I did everything right. No loose blankets. I took all his stuffed animals out of his crib before I put him to bed. I just don’t understand.

  “Yes, there is nothing that could have been done, baby. I am so sorry. God, am I sorry.” He squeezes my hand and presses it to his face. I can feel his tears on the back of my hand. I feel so numb. Like the life has been sucked out of me.

  “I don’t want to make the arrangements. Can’t you guys just do that?” they look at each other and then back to me.

  “Don’t worry about the expense, we’ll take care of it. But I think you need to make the decisions. It’s your child and I don’t want you regretting that you had no part in how he was laid to rest.” The cost, Jesus that’s the last thing on my mind.

  “Mom, I don’t know, really. You do it. I don’t want anyone there just you two and I guess Jessica. I don’t want a whole service. I just want to pray for him and let him be with God.” I don’t know if I believe there is a God anymore. If there is, this wouldn’t be happening right? I hope that I’m wrong because I need Evan to be in a good place, a peaceful place. Among angels.

  *

  The funeral is on a Saturday, one week after my birthday. I am standing in front of
a tiny gray marble coffin with delicate silver trim. It is draped with beautiful yellow roses. This is one thing I wanted a say in. Yellow roses usually make me smile. The casket will stay closed. I don’t want anyone to see him. I can’t even bear to see him. I said my goodbyes in the hospital.

  The Priest is speaking, but all I hear are low mumbles. I can’t focus on anything but those roses. When he is finished, I feel my father’s hand on my back and he nudges me forward. This is it. The last time I will be in my son’s physical presence. I approach him and gently place both hands on the cold surface of his casket. I bend down and kiss it gently and say my last words to him. “I love you, my whole heart, Evan. My little warrior. You have changed my life more than you will ever know.” As I walk away, I gently run my fingertips over the soft yellow roses and pluck one from its place. I bring it to my nose and inhale deeply. I look over to my parents and Jess, their eyes stained with tears and without a word I walk to the car.

  As I am getting into the back of my parent’s car, a shadow in the distance of the cemetery catches my eye. I hadn’t noticed before, but I see a car parked off to the side. Without thinking, I march over to where the person is standing. I can’t believe someone would come to gawk at a funeral service for my child. When I get closer, I see it is a woman, it’s Sara. What? This bitch still following me.

  The closer I get the faster and angrier I become. When I am close enough, she speaks first.

  “Nettie, I am sorry. I just wanted to pay my respects. I know I am the last person that should be here.” I don’t know what to say. She looks awful. Not like I remember her. She looks so sad.

  “What in the hell? Have you been watching us this whole time? WHY?” I don’t really give a shit at this point. She is crazy.

  “No, I heard about... the baby and I just,. I am so sorry Nettie, it’s so sad. I know you may not believe this, but I really felt like we were good friends. I do care about you and I am sorry about your loss. That’s all I wanted to come here and say.”

  I want to ask her why she didn’t go to the police, but none of that matters now, does it? I can’t force her and frankly, I have better things to worry about. Without another word I leave. I don’t owe her a thing and I am exhausted. I want to go home and sleep, forever. I don’t offer my family any explanation as to the encounter with Sara and they don’t pry. No one says a word when we arrive back at my house. We walk in together and my mom prepares some of the food that has been sent by friends and family. I always wondered why people feel the need to send food when there is a death. I suppose it’s to make things more convenient, but when you’re depressed the last thing you want to do is eat.

  I go to my room to change my clothes. I slip into my all too familiar sweats and vintage t-shirt and climb into bed. Today was the first day I had showered and gotten dressed this week. And it’s only because my mother physically shoved me into the shower. She has been staying with me, although I have repeatedly told her to go. I want to be alone. I want to cry, I want to sleep, I wish it were me in that coffin.

  There is a gentle knock at the door and without a reply from me, they enter. I feel someone sit next to me on the bed and a hand is placed on my back. It’s Jess. She strokes my back like a mother comforting a child and I hear her sniffle. “You need to try and eat something.” She whispers.

  I don’t bother to answer her. Tears begin rolling down the side of my face forming a puddle on my sheets. I feel her lean close to my ear and I can barely hear what she says. But when I do, I smile. “How about a drink then?” I nod.

  She jumps up and hurries to the kitchen. I sit up and await my drink. I look over at the picture on my bedside table. Evan, with the little fedora and black necktie. That was the best photoshoot I have ever done. Jess is back already with two short crystal glasses full of ice and a clear liquid. She hands me my glass and I take a huge drink. Wow, that is straight vodka. I inhale and cough as it burns the inside of my mouth and throat.

  “God, Jess! You could have mixed it with something.” She looks at me and shrugs.

  “Well, I know you need to get drunk so bottoms up.” She holds up her glass and I take another huge swig but this time the warmth feels good flowing deep down into my belly.

  It doesn’t take long for me to feel totally drunk. I haven’t eaten much of anything and I am exhausted from crying so much. I needed to lose myself for a little while. Jess always tries to make me feel better. I decide I should sleep, or I’ll be sick.

  “Will you lay with me until I fall asleep?” I ask Jess.

  “Of course. Anything for my sister.” She lies down next to me and we both stare at the ceiling. She starts humming a soft tune. I can’t quite make out what it is. It works in distracting me because it’s all I can think of now.

  “What is that? I know I have heard it before.” It’s beautiful.

  “It’s On Eagles Wings.” Oh, that’s right. This song always made me so sad. It’s fitting today.

  “Keep humming, please.” I take some comfort in the fact that if there is a heaven then my little boy is there. Jess continues the beautiful melody and I feel the overwhelming need to pray. I need answers that I believe only God can give me. I offer a silent prayer for answers, for peace, for sense in all this pain.

  Chapter 19

  Stand

  I don’t know how long I have been in this bed for. I haven’t talked to anyone in days, at least. My mother continues to bring me food which occasionally I pick at. I can feel that my hair is greasy and tangled. I haven’t looked in a mirror since the funeral.

  I feel like I need surgery to stitch my splintered heart back together. I miss him so much. I briefly think of Sam and wonder if he knows about the baby. I’m sure he does. Everyone around here knows everything. That’s the pain in the ass part of a small town. I’m not thinking clearly today. I don’t know whether it is a lack of food or the fact that I either can’t sleep or can’t wake up. I don’t know what I need right now, but I feel just lost. I am going crazy in this room, but I need to be alone and everyone keeps hounding me. Don’t they understand that the only thing that could help me is to bring my son back? Bring him back and it will bring me back. Otherwise, I am lost forever.

  While I lie there in my bed a thought comes to me and it becomes obsessive. My heart begins to race, and I can’t shake away the idea. I get out of bed before I change my mind and get dressed. I comb my fingers through my hair not bothering to use a brush and tie it up into a messy ponytail. When I leave my room, my father is there. He stands from the table, surprised to see me out of bed. “Nettie, honey can I get you something?” He follows me as I scramble to the door. “Where are you going?” I don’t answer him. I don’t even look at him. I don’t want to talk to anyone. I am cursed. Anything I touch is cursed. I don’t want to do any more damage to my family. Maybe it would be better for everyone if I didn’t exist at all.

  I snatch my purse from the hook beside the door and don’t even bother donning a coat. As I slam the door behind me, I can hear my father yell from the door, but I run to jump in my car. I take off as fast as I can before he can follow me. In my rearview mirror, I can see him standing on the front porch with his hand pulling at his hair. He is confused and angry. I don’t blame him. I would be too.

  I’m not exactly sure if I am going in the right direction. I have only been to my destination maybe one time and only driven by. I have never gone inside. I slow down knowing I am in the vicinity and then I spot it. I pull into the enormous parking lot and climb out. I’m sure to lock my car as I go.

  What the hell am I doing? I’m not thinking clearly, so I just go with it. I have completely and totally lost my mind, but I don’t think anyone would question why. My life for the last year has been so wildly up and down, that I don’t even know what to do anymore. I have nothing to live for and nothing to lose. So, fuck it. I walk in the double doors and I see a window to my right that is marked Check-In. I approach the window and address the older man in uniform behind the
glass.

  “Nettie Madison, to see a prisoner.” I take a deep breath and exhale. “Samuel Knox please.”

  “I just need to see your ID Miss Madison and you need to sign in,” he hands me a clipboard. “Thank you, dear. You can step over to those blue doors and I will buzz you in.”

  I move to the left side of the room now and as I hear the buzzer echo, I am almost afraid to push open the doors but somehow, I do. When I walk through there are two uniformed guards who proceed to pat me down and search my purse. After removing my shoes and emptying my pockets I walk through the metal detectors and this is the last of my inspection.

  “It will be just a few moments, Miss,” he is very cold in the way he speaks even though he addresses me as ‘Miss’.

  It’s not long before my name is called. I’m handed a plastic visitors tag and buzzed into yet another room. When I enter, I don’t see him immediately. The officer instructs me to go all the way to the end of the room. There are 6 booths all divided with bright orange plastic walls and a stool in front of each, bolted to the floor. Glass separates the visitors from the prisoners with a phone to link their conversations. I count my steps as I walk to the end. Exactly 20 steps and I slowly turn to face him. He looks genuinely shocked to see me, but soon that shock turns to anger. I can see how the fire is building in his eyes. He looks nearly as angry as the night of the incident. I am somehow incredibly calm. Probably because I have just plain lost my fucking mind. I sit down and look directly into the eyes of the devil himself. Evan looked nothing like him. Nothing at all.

  I don’t hesitate to pick up the phone and he sits perfectly still for a few moments, before slowly lifting his receiver from its place. I speak first. “I will kill you someday. Remember this moment. And remember that I have given you a warning. This will be the only time I will tell you. And I will never be here again. Don’t forget this day.”