Rise

by Leslie McCauley

  He laughs out loud and leans forward so that I can see his breath on the glass. “What the fuck did you do to my son, you fucking whore?”

  I know my face is burning crimson at this moment, I can feel it. I want to kill him, right now. I don’t want to wait. I don’t respond. I won’t give him the satisfaction.

  “You’ve got it wrong sweetheart. I will fucking kill you,” he is so angry, but he speaks softly this time. “You put me in jail and then kill my child? I will come get you Nettie, don’t you worry. I will bide my time, but when I am outta here, you are going to be the first one I pay a visit to. And believe me when I do kill you, I will be sure to have my fun first. So, YOU remember that!” his volume escalates as he speaks, and by the time he is finished spit is sprayed on the glass.

  I stand and lean in close to the glass as did he so that we are nose to nose. I hope HE hears me. “I look forward to it.” Just then I slam the phone down as hard as I can, and he jumps. HAHA, he jumped! I fucking startled him. I cannot contain my smile. He is absolutely seething. I am satisfied with my visit and turn to leave the room. The second I walk out the door I exhale loudly. Amazingly, I don’t cry. I don’t think that I have any tears left.

  I meant what I said to him. He ruined my life and I will take his. The second he is released I will be ready, and I will fucking kill him if he comes at me. I want him to. Who could blame me for killing him, right? Evan’s face flashes in my mind. Yes, I would do it for him.

  *

  When I finally arrive home after being gone for a few hours, my mother’s car is now at my house and so is Jessica’s. I don’t want to deal with this right now. I am a grown woman. Can’t they just let me grieve? Before I can even get out of the car, they are all three at my door. I roll my eyes at them. They look angry and worried.

  “Where the hell did you go?” my mother is screaming at me.

  “I just needed to take care of something.” I answer her in a monotone insincere way. I can’t tell them where I was, or they will flip out. I walk right passed all of them and enter MY house. I drop my purse onto the floor and take off my shoes. Again, they follow me and begin pestering me with questions. Leave me alone already! I ignore them still and go to the bathroom locking the door behind me. I turn on the water to the shower to drowned out their desperation. I sit for a while before even getting into the shower and I just think. I need to tell my family to leave me alone for a while. If they keep smothering me, I am ultimately going to hurt their feelings. I just don’t need to be babied right now. I have every right to be angry, depressed, destructive and just plain stupid. I still won’t dare to tell them that I went and saw Sam. They just won’t understand.

  There is no need to tell them anyway since I don’t plan on seeing him ever again. Well, not until I kill him. I don’t doubt he will come after me. Whenever that may be. I hate him. I hate him more than I have ever hated anyone in my life. I hope he gets brutalized like I was by him. He will never know the extent of pain he has caused me and my family. Even if he did, it would only feed his sickness. He is not human. He is something else, something dark.

  I am going to need to get my shit together eventually I suppose, but right now I don’t want to think about anything. I take the longest shower of my life and when I finally decide I am ready to face my family, I do just that. My father is sitting on the floor right outside of the bathroom and I can hear my mother and Jess whispering in the kitchen. My dad looks up at me with those sad eyes.

  They look golden today, I think, but then again it is dark in here. I lock eyes with him but don’t say a word. I don’t care if anyone else is sad right now because I feel worse than they do. I quietly turn and walk into my room and put on some clothes. I don’t even know what I grab, I just need to get out of here for a while. When I immerge from my room my father is still in his spot and I decide I should say something.

  “I am going out,” I say quickly as I sidestep past him.

  “What do you mean you are going out? Where? Why won’t you talk to any of us?” he looks devastated.

  “Dad, I just need to get out by myself, to think…” I hesitate, “to not think, I don’t know. I just need to get out of here, or I am going to lose my mind. You need to get Mom and go home. I don’t need you both hovering over me every second. Just let me be destroyed for a while, okay? I need it!” I am shouting at my own father and for a moment I feel like a child who is about to be scolded.

  He says nothing and turns his gaze to the floor. His hands are stuffed in his pockets and I can tell he wants to shout at me as well, but he controls himself.

  When I turn to continue down the hall, my mother and Jessica are standing there silent and in shock. I have never spoken to my father like that in my life. I pass both of them without a word, gather my things and walk out the door. Where am I going? It doesn’t matter. I just need to get out of here. I drive for a long while before I decide to stop into a bar for a drink.

  It is still early, so there aren’t many people here. A couple sits in the corner looking entirely too intoxicated for the time of day and the bartender is chatting it up with what I would imagine, is a regular at the far end of the bar. I choose a seat at the opposite end of the bar, to avoid speaking to anyone.

  The bartender takes his time but then finally comes over to get my drink order. I decide on a vodka tonic. It will be strong enough, but not too strong. I still need to drive home. It smells like cigarettes and booze in here. It reminds me of the night Sam came to my home. I wish I could go back in time and eliminate that night from my life. Everything would be fine right now, had that night never been. I don’t know where to go from here. Where do I start to put some sort of life together? I don’t want to do a damn thing right now. I don’t want to work, spend time with my family, or even wake up in the morning.

  Before I know it, my drink is gone, and I opt for just one more. I lift my hand to the bartender and point to my glass. He quickly refills it and I thank him. I lift the cold glass to my lips and once it’s there it doesn’t leave until it is empty. The liquid warms my chest and I exhale. I am feeling the tingling sensation from the alcohol spread through my body. I should go. I can’t sit here, or I will continue to get drunk.

  I climb into my red Honda and sit for a moment. I pick up my cell phone and see that I have ten missed calls. I don’t even bother to check and see who it was. I know that it’s my parents. I decide I should go home simply because I am feeling so tired again. I wouldn’t mind another drink at home. So, I stop by a local liquor store and get a few bottles of wine. It’s not long before I am home and when I look at the clock, I realize I have been gone for only about an hour and a half. When I pull into the driveway this time it is dark, and I see only Jessica’s car. I am surprised my parents aren’t here too. Although, I did ask them to leave. I wish Jess didn’t stay. When I walk into the house, I head directly to the kitchen and she is standing at the island, wine glass in hand. I open the cupboard and retrieve a wine glass for myself, pouring the remaining wine from Jessica’s bottle inside. I take a large swig and sit down opposite her. She looks devastated, but I am too selfish right now to have any sympathy for her.

  “Where did you go?” she asks, but I don’t think she expects me to answer.

  “To a bar. I had a few drinks. I needed to get out of here,” my tone is icy, and I don’t even recognize myself.

  “Oh, well do you want me to stay with you tonight?”

  “No, go home. I want to be alone.” I take another bottle of wine and walk back to my bedroom. I close the door gently behind me and lock it.

  It is quiet in my room. I notice that my bed is made. My mother must have cleaned while I was gone. Just then I hear the front door close. I walk to the window and pull back the sheer curtains. Jess is almost to her car. Her head is down, and she looks as though she is wiping away tears. I let the curtain fall back across the window and I make my way to the bed. I debate on whether to watch a little TV. No, I think I will just drink. I ope
n the next bottle of wine. It is a cheap chardonnay with a twist top and not even a cork. Cheap, but it will do the trick. I don’t even bother to pour it into a glass.

  “Bottoms up,” I say to the empty room.

  I spend the next several days this way. In a fog of alcohol and sleep. Dodging calls and knocks at the door. Only occasionally sending a text to report I am not dead… yet.

  Chapter 20

  Tough Love

  I am startled by a knock on my bedroom window. I hesitantly flutter my eyes and see Matthew standing outside. He looks annoyed. “Open the door,” he mouths. I look around the room and realize I am on the floor.

  “Go away!” I shout. Ouch, my head is pounding. I look down at an empty bottle on its side next to me. I climb up into my bed and pull the comforter over my head. Yuck, I smell like alcohol. It’s seeping through my pores. Once again, I hear a stronger knock, knock, knock.

  “I am not leaving until you let me in, Nettie! And you know I mean it!”

  I know he is telling the truth and I flip the blankets onto the floor like an angry child. I am so annoyed. I stomp my feet to the front door and unlock it. After opening it, I don’t bother to say anything to him, but make my way to the kitchen and my wine. I can feel him following me. I grab a bottle of wine and begin to open it when I am startled.

  “Are you kidding me? It is ten o ‘clock in the morning. When was the last time you have even showered? You look like shit!” he is infuriated.

  “Matt, I can do whatever the hell I please, I am an adult!!” Before I can get another word out, he bends and grabs me by my thighs and hoists me over his shoulder.

  “Put me down! Are you crazy?” I shout.

  The bottle leaves my hand and shatters into the kitchen sink. Matt doesn’t listen and carries me down the hall into the bathroom, and I hear the shower turn on. Suddenly he drops me, and I crash into the bottom of my tub in a spray of icy cold water.

  “Get yourself together, God damn it! I know you are hurting but you need to snap out of this! Shower and meet me back in the kitchen. I will have something for your skinny ass to eat.” He leaves the room without another word and I know he is right.

  I look down at my fully clothed body and realize how much weight I have lost in such a short amount of time. I take a few deep breaths trying to calm myself. I stand and adjust the water temperature. I gently peel away each soaking wet layer and hang them on the curtain rod. As I let the warm water cascade over my face I begin to cry. My life lately is a complete and total blur. How do I start to get back to some sort of normal? I haven’t worked. I haven’t had any sort of social life and my parents have had to take over the responsibility of my bills, because frankly I just don’t care. I haven’t even talked to Jess about any of her wedding plans. What a great Maid of Honor I have been.

  Just then I remember someone mentioning a support group at the hospital. Maybe I should look into that? I don’t even want to leave this house. I haven’t even been to Evans grave since the funeral. I think that’s something I need to do, soon.

  I hear a gentle knock at the door, and I am snapped out of my daze. “Hey, hurry it up in there I have breakfast ready for you.”

  I think I really needed Matthew’s tough love today. I can’t be babied any longer. It obviously isn’t helping me at all. Now that I am thinking about it, I am absolutely starving. I can smell bacon coming from the kitchen. I turn off the water and step out of the shower. As the steam clears from in front of me a see a blur of myself in the mirror. I use my hand to wipe away the fog. I am absolutely horrified at what is in front of me. I don’t even recognize this woman. I have deep, dark circles under each of my eyes. Even my cheeks are sunken in. I scan the rest of my body and notice that each individual rib is visible. Both of my hip bones jut out from my sides. If this is what everyone else has been looking at lately, then no wonder they are so concerned. I can’t bear to look at this pitiful, sad woman any longer and I grab the towel covering my body. I take my time brushing out my knotted hair and sneak across the hall to my bedroom to dress. Matthew has seen me in much less than a towel before, but that was a very long time ago. I half-smile at myself remembering a happy time in my life. I instantly feel guilty for the grin.

  After throwing on whatever was clean in my dresser drawers I tiptoe to the kitchen. Matt is sitting at the table with two place settings and he is eating already himself. He looks up with sad eyes as I enter the room.

  “That’s a little better,” he whispers.

  “Thank you. I needed someone to make me wake up a bit.” I join him at the table and pick up a piece of toast and just a few pieces of bacon. I don’t think I could handle eating too much.

  “Can you do me a favor today, Matt?” He nods without hearing what it is. “I remember someone saying something about a support group for parents who lost a child to SIDS,” I pause filled with so much emotion the lump begins to form again in my throat. “Can you get the information for me? It’s worth a try, right?” I meekly shrug my shoulders.

  “Yeah, it’s worth a try. I mean this as gently as possible, but I don’t think you could possibly be any worse off than you are now.” I know he’s right. The only way things could be worse is if I were dead. And what is sad, is that it’s something I welcomed.

  “I want to go to the cemetery too.” He nods. “I want to go to the cemetery by myself.” I correct.

  “Ok, I understand. I’ll get the information you want while you go visit Evan.” My heart twists at the sound of my son’s name.

  “Thank you,” I murmur.

  I take a few more nibbles of my food and begin to feel a little nauseated. I excuse myself from the table, deciding next I should call my parents. I am sure they are the ones who sent Matthew over here. I know they are worried about me. I pick up my cell and see that I have ten missed calls and five voicemails. I am not surprised. I dial my mother’s cell first and she picks up after just one ring.

  “Nettie? Honey is everything okay? Are you okay?” she sounds panicked.

  “Yes, Mom. Matt came over. I just wanted to check-in. I am out of bed today. I am going to the cemetery and he is getting me information on the support group thing.” I try not to be short with her.

  She audibly sighs. “Oh good. I am just glad you are feeling better.” Better? I don’t think so! I just need to try something different than what I am doing.

  “Alright, I have to go. I’ll talk to you later. Love you.” I hang up before she can respond.

  After gathering my things, I see my camera in the corner. I don’t know why but I decide to take it with me. When I step outside, I notice the change in the weather. It is fairly warm. It dawns on me that I have no idea what the damn date is. I assume it has been over a week since Evan passed, but I really have no idea. I glance at the calendar on my phone and realize that today is March 5th, Evans due date. I begin to weep already. I have had and lost him before he was even supposed to be put on this earth. I feel like I have been absolutely cheated.

  The drive is a short one and I cry the whole way. I have very mixed feelings about coming here. I hope that it helps me and doesn’t send me into another downward spiral. When I arrive, I make a slow turn into the parking lot. I get out and for a quick second, I don’t remember which way to go. The day of the funeral was such a blur to me. I scan the graves and see a tiny spot with no grass. Oh, there he is. As I make my way over, I am careful not to step on any other graves. I don’t want to be disrespectful.

  When I finally approach, I realize that the headstone has been placed. I lose it immediately. I sink to my knees and place my hands over the cold stone. “Why? Oh, Evan, I miss you so much. I love you so much. I wish you were here with me.” My words are inaudible. It’s a mix of crying and begging. When I wipe away my tears, I read the headstone.

  Evan Tate Madison

  Not long with us on earth, but forever in our hearts.

  January 18th -February 24th, 2019

  I drag my fingers across the groov
es of each letter. I get out my camera and take a few photos. I don’t even know why but it makes me feel calm. Like I am collecting pieces of him. I snap a few shots of the treetops above his grave. I hope he is up there in heaven. He wasn’t here long but he certainly made an impact, on all of us. Just then it dawns on me. Not only is everyone worried about me, but they are mourning the loss of Evan as well. My parents lost their grandchild. I haven’t even given that any thought. I need to be more aware of how they are feeling about all of this as well. I close my eyes before leaving and wait until the tears subside.

  “I will be back my little warrior. Mommy loves you. My whole heart.” I bend down and kiss his name. I should have brought him some flowers. Next time I will. I need to visit him regularly. I know it is just his body here and not his soul, but it was a comforting visit.

  When I arrive home, Matthew is still there and is looking anxious as I walk in. “Oh, good you’re back. I found out that there is a meeting tonight if you want to go. I was afraid you wouldn’t be back in time. You were gone forever.”

  Was I? It seemed like only an hour or so. When I look at the clock it is three in the afternoon. Holy shit I have been gone for three hours. “Um, I don’t know if I’m feeling up to a meeting so soon Matt, but thank you.”

  “I don’t think so. You asked me to get the information and I did. I will take you there and bring you home. It’s only an hour and you don’t have to talk, just see what it’s about, alright?” He sounds pathetic.

  “Fine,” I snap. “What time is it?”

  “In one hour. So, go get ready and I’ll make you a quick sandwich or something.” I don’t tell him that I am not hungry, because I have a feeling it won’t matter to him at all. I was going to wear what I have on, but I suppose I should at least put jeans on. I am once again in sweats and a t-shirt. I pull my hair up into a loose ponytail and put on a comfortable pair of jeans with a black V-neck cotton shirt. I open my compact and dust my face with a little powder and some blush. God, I am so pale. I look like death.