WISHBONE II: ...Some Wishes Should Never Be Made

by Brooklyn Hudson

  “That kid is all you. The shit he comes up with sometimes…”

  “Yeah, crazy, I know.” He changed the subject, “Go get them together, I’m coming right out.”

  Lily turned and walked away, “Hurry up.”

  Matt approached his suitcase and unlocked the handle, sliding it out and tilting the case on its wheels. He paused and looked around the room for a moment. He shook his head and left the bedroom, wheeling the suitcase down the hall.

  Julien kept glancing back at the house, waiting for Rachael to emerge as he buckled Jessica into the back seat. The little girl kicked wildly, sensing danger and fighting to get back into her father’s arms.

  “Papa, Papa, Papa… Papa, Papa, Papa…” she cried and reached for the seatbelt buckle.

  Julien slammed the SUV’s door shut and moved around to the back of the car. He stopped to look at the house again; Jessica’s muffled bawling behind him.

  Come on, Rachael…

  Lind, do not let me down.

  Where are you, Rachael?

  In the dawn light, Rachael burst out through the door and onto the porch. Julien took a few steps toward her as she ran down into the snow. He heard Jessica scream and looked back at his daughter; now up on her knees, looking at him through the back window of the SUV. He turned back to Rachael. No longer running, she stood one-hundred feet away, in the falling snow. He waved for her to hurry, but she didn’t move. Julien took a few reluctant steps in her direction, but stopped himself as Jessica cried out for him. He stood looking at Rachael, confused.

  Rachael, her arms limp at her sides, raised her chin and shook her head slowly.

  In complete denial, Julien watched her, waiting and refusing to believe she wouldn’t come with them. He started walking toward her again, picking up speed until Sarah appeared in the doorway. He stopped dead in his tracks.

  Sarah didn’t step onto the porch, nor run after them. She stood, motionless in the doorway.

  Rachael looked back over her shoulder at Sarah, and then back to Julien. Again, she shook her head, paused then broke into a run, back to the porch, where she dropped to her knees at Sarah’s feet. Sarah ignored her and kept her gaze locked on Julien.

  Julien watched for a brief moment, tears welling in his eyes; he choked up.

  The child lock held Jessica captive and her panic rose. She shrieked louder by the second. Cat-like screeching that Julien was sure could draw blood. The sound of her jerking at the door handle finally broke his focus away from Rachael.

  “Papa, Papa, Papa,” she cried, her voice hoarse.

  Julien looked back at Rachael, still pleading at Sarah’s feet, then to Jessica; tears streaming over her bright red cheeks.

  Jessica stopped fighting. She stared at her father through the rear window of the Lexus, “Puh-puh-please, Papa…” she said.

  Upon hearing his daughter speak for the very first time, he rushed to the driver’s side door. He stopped to look back at Rachael and Sarah, one last time.

  I cannot do this...

  How do I leave her here?

  I can take Jessica back…

  We can go back…

  I can beg for her forgiveness.

  Rachael made her choice…

  She is leaving you.

  Jessica shimmied herself over the armrest and into the driver’s seat. She slammed her palms against the glass repeatedly, startling Julien. He looked at her terrified expression and opened the door.

  Jessica dove into the front passenger seat as Julien got behind the wheel and started the engine; the vehicle hummed. He glanced in the rearview mirror and saw Sarah step forward on the porch. Lind’s words echoed in his mind, others have gotten away.

  Snow came down upon the windshield. Several inches had accumulated on the road, but not enough to stop the SUV from barreling ahead.

  Julien hit the gas and picked up speed as he took the first bend of the mountain road. Jessica slid to the side and slammed against the door. Julien reached out to brace her; there was no time to stop and buckle her in. He took the next curve; a rear tire slipped, skidding them sideways toward the cliff’s edge. He regained control immediately. Halfway to the base of the mountain, he glanced into his mirror, fully expecting to see Sarah, somehow chasing after them. He looked to Jessica, gripping the armrest and gazing up at him.

  He smiled at her, “We can go home now,” he said.

  A smile spread slowly from the corners of her mouth; her eyes grew bright.

  He looked back to the road, just in time to see the deer come up over the hood and shatter the windshield.

  Matt leaned over the armrest toward Lily, who puckered up for a kiss.

  “Yes, yes, I will. The minute I land,” he promised to call her then opened the door stepping out onto the airport curb. He opened the back door and removed his suitcase then moved back to where she could see him up front.

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to park and come in with you?” she crouched down in the driver’s seat, straining to look up at him.

  “No, Hun, go…before the cops have a fit.” He glanced around, “No standing; just unloading.”

  She whined, “Okay, well, have a great trip,” she pouted, “knock ’em dead!”

  He smiled and nodded, “I love you…drive safe.” He slammed the door shut and walked to the United Airlines entrance at La Guardia Airport.

  He stepped inside then stopped and turned around. Leaning up against the glass, he watched as Lily disappeared into a sea of traffic. He waited for a few extra moments then walked back out to the curb and stopped a security officer.

  “Where is the Hertz counter?” he asked.

  Julien tried to focus, but his surroundings appeared distorted and hazy; his vision blurred. Steam bellowed into the SUV’s cab through the shattered windshield; the vehicle’s hood, open and crumpled, blocking his view. A loud hissing noise filled the air and he tried to recall where he was. Behind him, he heard a clicking sound, like metal on metal, or someone tinkering with parts. He wanted to turn to his side and look, but he couldn’t move. He sensed someone was there beside him then heard the jingling sound of keys and murmuring voices.

  Who is there?

  Where are we?

  You ran.

  Jessica?

  Driving away.

  Julien reached out to his side. He had little control of his motions; his arm felt heavy and loose as he moved through the air to feel for his daughter in the seat beside him. It was empty. He panicked and tried to get up, but he was trapped. He opened his eyes again and acknowledged the steering wheel, pressed up against his chest; his legs pinned tight below the dashboard, now inches from his lap. He looked around and recognized the smoke and broken trees around him. He remembered seeing this once before. The clanking sound behind him continued, but he still couldn’t place the noise. He slowly turned his head to the side in small, paced increments and he saw Jessica’s pink and white tennis shoe, resting on the crumpled hood of the SUV; blood staining the remaining, jagged bits of glass around it. He felt a sudden loss of balance as his seat dropped backwards, allowing him to take a deep breath of air; his mind too muddled to register any pain.

  Randall leaned across his torso and tinkered with something on Julien’s right side. He stepped back and crouched down beside him again and the sound of tools clacking behind the seat filled the cab once more.

  Julien’s seat fell backwards again and his legs came free. He tried to move, but his body refused to cooperate. He watched Randall walk to the front of the car, where he bounced the crinkled hood up and down a few times; revealing fast glimpses of Sarah, standing in front of the SUV.

  I didn’t get away…

  Someone else leaned into the car and slid the detached seat back further. Julien heard the sound of broken glass falling and chinking around them as someone slipped their arms beneath him. Julien realized it was his father, now removing him from the vehicle. His mind told him to protest; to demand Jérome take his hands off of him, but th
ere was so much pain now, all he could do was moan. Jessica came back to his mind. He didn’t want her to be scared, or to see him like this, and then he remembered seeing her tiny shoe and all the blood. Everything became clear in an instant.

  The accident…

  Sarah warned me...

  Jérome turned away from the car with Julien, unconscious in his arms.

  The trip to Kings Hollow should have taken a total of five-hours, yet Matt had been on the road for six and still had 198-miles to go. The snow was falling heavier with each passing hour and the sky was the color of dark ash. He made only one brief stop to call Lily from a busy parking lot; hoping she would assume the noise was the bustle of O’Hare airport. He promised to call her again, upon settling into the hotel, which should have happened at least an hour earlier. He spent a moment deciding on an excuse; the client had immediately arrived to take him for drinks. He picked up his phone from the rental car’s console and quickly checked Chicago’s weather; the snow coming down there even harder than upstate New York. He decided to keep driving until he found a motel, a few towns before reaching Kings Hollow. Someplace where he could call Lily, unload his suitcase and bring the Grenier family safely back with him to wait out the storm.

  And what will you tell Lily when you return with the Grenier’s, he thought to himself. She’ll get over it. She’ll be mad at first and then she’ll realize, I had no choice.

  And what if I make an ass of myself and the Grenier’s aren’t in need of help? No…they do. Don’t doubt your gut now. The worst that can happen is that Julien sends you away and never speaks to you again. I’ll take that chance.

  Rachael crouched in the corner of the bedroom, distraught and irrepressibly sobbing into her hands. Julien woke to the sound of her cries mingling with the loud crackling and popping of a blazing fire. The lamp’s light illuminated the room, bright against the blackness beyond the windows. He felt an insurmountable amount of pain, for which he couldn’t recall the cause; nor could he focus his attention enough to try. He listened to Rachael bawling and meant to console her, but the effort felt too great to attempt. As his mind began to gradually clear, his thoughts grew more coherent. He heard a gurgling sound coming from his left. He slowly turned to find the source, where, beside him, he saw Jessica; her eyes open and fixed on the ceiling, blood smeared and drying around her mouth and nose. He tried to reason that nothing there was real, that he was only dreaming, but something told him this was not the case; not this time. His daughter was lying beside him, gasping and fighting for her life. He used every ounce of his strength to reach for her, but his body screamed for him to stop. Dragging himself back, he tried again. He managed to take hold of her arm and pull her an inch closer, as he hoisted himself up onto an elbow. He looked at her pallid face and empty stare, and reality set in.

  In shock and acting on adrenalin, he pushed himself up higher and sat, slumped against the headboard. He dragged her lifeless body a few more inches toward him. Confused, his eyes darted around the room, looking for something, anything that could help. He saw Rachael, still sobbing in the corner behind door; Sarah standing at the foot of the bed. His mind reeled as he tried to make sense of it all. He looked down at Jessica. He struggled and managed a better grip then attempted to drag her up onto his lap. Something stopped him; something was in the way. He looked at the metal scaffolding and screws jutting from his swollen, discolored flesh. He refused to believe his eyes; both of his legs now confined by the metal caging; her weapon of choice, which held him captive in the most barbaric way.

  He had no time to care or react, with Jessica choking and gurgling in his arms. He quickly stuck his finger far into her mouth and felt around for something lodged in her throat. As he retracted his finger, he saw that it coated in a frothy pinky substance. He laid her flat on the mattress beside him and began breathing into her mouth.

  Sarah came around to Jessica’s side of the bed and stood witnessing his panic.

  Jessica’s chest refused to rise as he passed air into her tiny lungs. He knew immediately, his effort was futile. He listened to her chest, but confusion and emotion muddled his clarity. He moved to compress her chest with his hand and felt her bones shift unnaturally beneath the weight of his palm. He pulled his hand away, repulsed by the devastating sensation. He looked to Rachael first, her face still buried in her hands; she would be of no help.

  “Jessica, Jessica,” he muttered, but she didn’t respond. He shook her, “Jessica!” he said angrily then choked back tears.

  He looked to Sarah, “Do something. Do something…help her!” He tried to reach for Sarah and bring her close, but she twisted away from his reach then turned back to narrow her eyes at him.

  “Help her!” he cried out again. “Do what you want to do to me, but do not do this,” he pleaded.

  Arlette approached Julien’s side of the bed. He hadn’t seen her seated in the chair by the windows behind him.

  “Julien, it’s too late,” Arlette said, in a soothing tone.

  Julien looked up at her, “It is never too late with her!” he snapped then looked to Sarah. “Do something! Sarah, so help you…do not do this. Punish me…!”

  She IS punishing you.

  Julien looked down at his daughter. Her body, quiet now; the gasping ceased.

  “”Do not do this,” he paused; tears impeding his speech, “…to me,” he whispered, knowing it was pointless now.

  Sarah bent down to take Jessica’s dying body away.

  Julien grabbed hold of her, “Don’t you fucking dare!” he spat through gritted teeth.

  Sarah calmly took her hands away and stood up. She glared at him.

  Julien felt a searing pain, so violent, he dropped back against the bed, forced to let go of Jessica.

  Rachael jumped up and ran at Sarah, “Enough, enough, stop it! Get rid of her. Take her! Do what you want with her, but stop doing this to him.” She grabbed hold of Sarah’s arm.

  Julien fought to remain conscious. He wanted to cry out, but no sound would come. He wanted to stop her from taking his daughter away, but he couldn’t move.

  Sarah threw her arm back, sending Rachael back against the wall and falling to the floor.

  Jessica’s body suddenly heaved and a haunting rattle escaped her.

  Julien watched as the last sign of life left his daughter’s body.

  He looked away and allowed himself to let go of the fight.

  He lost consciousness.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  The GPS system in the rental car sent Matt in the wrong direction, twice. Frustrated; he hadn’t slept well. Between the intricate lies he was forced to tell Lily, as her questions grew more exhaustive, and a cheap motel mattress, which smelled like wet mold, he was having second thoughts again. Suddenly, his entire plan seemed off the wall and pointless. Now, he was sure he would find Julien, happily living in the country with his family, desperate to escape the rat race and furious that he had come looking for him.

  Julien had disappeared once before, and then returned, having had surgery. Perhaps this was the same. Some sort of personal issue, he didn’t want anyone to know about.

  No, he thought, Rachael had called the office and at least let us know, Julien would be out for a while. He came back a few weeks later. This is different. He would never just up and disappear. And the email?

  Matt glanced at the directions he obtained from a gas station off Route 23. The road was wet, but had been plowed, so he was making decent time. Only light intermittent flurries were falling now and the worst of the storm was reportedly over. He barreled ahead, watching for landmarks and road signs, and thinking about his last conversation with his wife.

  Lily wanted the hotel phone number in the event that his cell phone should be an issue. She wanted constant contact and detailed conversation regarding the new client and their meetings. Nothing unusual; just typical, controlling wife demands, but the guilt was overwhelming and casting a negative shadow on his plan.

  The
road was deserted and offered little distraction, leaving Matt plenty of time to be in his own head, overthinking it all. He spotted a wide shoulder coming up on his right. With a heavy sigh and dauntingly disillusioned, he pulled off the road to park. He dug through a brown bag beside him and removed the pack of Lucky Strike cigarettes. When he set out for the road that morning, he had been motivated and self-assured. He stopped and bought an array of snacks for Jessica and Rachael and cigarettes for Julien, still confident in his plan and wanting to think of everything.

  Sitting on the shoulder of Route 23, Matt opened the pack of cigarettes and lit one, now feeling foolish. He lowered the window and rested his head back against the seat, breathing the crisp mountain air, tainted by burnt tobacco.

  Setting out from the motel en route to Kings Hollow, he had gone as far as to fantasize about the rescue; the Grenier family, held hostage and Matt busting through the door like a scene from one of his favorite movies, Die Hard.

  Hostage! He scoffed at himself, and if that’s the case? Then what? Matt, you’re such a fuckin’ idiot sometimes.

  Matt took his phone from the cup holder and dialed home. Lily answered.

  “Hey Lil, where are you?” he said sheepishly.

  “I just got home. Is everything alright?” she said, immediately suspicious. “I thought you were heading out for the big meeting?”

  “Yeah, well, we’ve got to talk,” Matt said, “You’re gonna be pissed, but I need to tell you the truth.”

  Talk to her…

  Convince her…

  Do something!

  You can start again…

  In time she will give in…

  In time you will make the wish and start again.