Behind the Falls

by Brenda Zalegowski

  “Congratulations,” Mark says as he hugs Max and ruffles his hair. Max embraces his dad for a minute then steps back and looks at his acceptance letters again. He picks up his water bottle as Mark leaves the room.

  “Goodnight,” Mark calls as he goes down the hall. Max calls his goodnight as we head down the stairs to his room.

  “Acceptance letters already?” I ask as I sit on his bed. Max sits at his desk and looks at the information the schools have sent in the thick envelopes. What I’m really thinking is Hawaii? It might as well be the moon. I want to be happy for him but I’m sad, defeated.

  “I applied to these schools pretty early. Still, I wasn’t expecting anything until at least mid-March.”

  I’ve known all along that I’d be moving back to Illinois and that Max would go wherever it was that he chose to go to school but I was trying to ignore it. I was trying not to think of the date stamp that this relationship had before it even started. Now that his acceptance letters are coming in it’s more real. Before, the thought of us being separated was just an abstract. It’s all too real now.

  Hawaii? I should have guessed he’d apply to schools there since he loved it so much when he lived there. I should have guessed any school he chooses will be far away from me. It’s not like we have the option of choosing to go to the same school. I’m going to DePaul and that’s final. He doesn’t believe in long distance relationships. I’m terrified of flying. It’s impossible. I feel sick. I drag my bag into the bathroom and get ready for bed.

  After I’ve changed into pajamas and brushed my teeth I sit on the floor in the bathroom for a while. I want to cry, I feel tears but nothing happens. That’s fine I guess. I mean, I’ve been crying more these past few months than any sixteen-year-old boy has a right to cry. I just wish this lump in my throat would go. I wish my expression when I look in the mirror could show me someone happy and well-adjusted instead of what I am which is blank. Eventually I head back to Max’s room and climb into the bed.

  He’s still at his desk when I enter the room but then he gets pajamas and leaves to get ready for bed. I just want to fall asleep before he comes back but as usual, sleep avoids me. When he turns out the light and gets into bed he curves himself around me all warm and smelling minty. He kisses my neck. His hands explore me. I can’t feel anything except sadness and loss.

  “Hey, what’s wrong?” he whispers in my ear when I don’t react to his affections. I shrug. “Come on, No,” he persists.

  “I guess I’m just kinda wondering what the point is,” I admit.

  “What do you mean?” he nuzzles my neck as he says it.

  “I mean, your dad is going to find out. He already sees it. My parents are going to find out. I’m risking everything for this thing that’s only going to last a few months of my life. I just don’t see the point. I feel like…we shouldn’t have even started.”

  I can’t explain it to him, this hopeless feeling I have. I can’t explain that I’ve been working up to this point for days, maybe even weeks, and it’s only now that it’s here that I even realize it. It makes me want to pull the covers over my head and never come out again. It makes me feel like giving up on…everything. I sigh. He hugs me tighter.

  “Don’t say that,” he says. “Don’t say it’s only going to last a few months. Noah, you said you saw forever…”

  “I was wrong. I was naïve. Realistically I only see until after graduation, July at the latest,” I tell him. Does he hear the toneless, emotionless sound my voice is making? Does he even understand defeat? Of course he doesn’t. He’s Max and Max is never defeated or unsure or anything besides confident and secure.

  “Noah, that’s not going to happen. I’m not letting you go that easily. We’re going to figure something out, okay? Don’t sound like that,” he pleads.

  “Like what?” I sigh.

  “Like it’s already over when it’s only just started. It’s not over. I won’t let it be,” he holds me tightly and I think he really believes it. I want to believe it but I don’t see how.

  He holds me and leaves light kisses on the back of my neck and he runs his fingers lightly up and down my arm until eventually he falls asleep. I lie awake for hours. I feel sick in the stomach and I feel so hopeless. Eventually I fall asleep but my sleep is filled with dreams that are terrifying but that make no sense.

  Pain tears me out of sleep. I wake gasping and I clutch my chest. Max is still asleep so I extricate myself from the blankets and stumble my way to the bathroom. I lock the door and sit on the floor with my back to it. I’m dying. I’m pain and crawling skin and sweating and shivering at the same time. I’m pounding heart and ringing ears and terror and I feel sick and some part of me realizes I have to control this before Max wakes up and comes looking for me. Of course the thought of Max finding me like this just makes it worse.

  I can’t breathe. Things are beginning to go dark and I feel dizzy. Why? Why do I have to be me? When the bile rises I try to swallow it down but I can’t for long and soon I’m vomiting again and again. Lobster ravioli is definitely better the first time around and is now on the list of foods I will no longer eat.

  Between throwing up and hyperventilating I can’t catch my breath. I think I’m suffocating. I fall back against the wall. Finally I’m able to take a few deep breaths and my vision clears and then I’m exhausted, slumped against the bathroom door. Eventually I find the strength to stand and I blow my nose and wash my face and brush my teeth. I splash some more cold water on my face then I dry off and try to breathe deeply some more.

  I have no idea how much time has passed when I finally emerge from the bathroom. Max is sitting on the floor with his back to the wall and his head back with eyes closed. He opens them and looks at me when he hears the door.

  “Didn’t you hear me?” he asks. I shake my head. “I knocked and I called out to you and you didn’t answer. Noah, I really need you to start being straight with me,” he says and he sounds tired. Tired of me? I don’t doubt it. He gets up and takes me by the arm and leads me into his studio, sitting me on the couch and standing over me.

  “So what is all of this? You’re sick a lot and you barely eat. Is it an eating disorder?” I can tell that he’s trying to be tough with me so I give him some answers but at the same time he sounds helpless, frightened. Eating disorder. I almost laugh but I don’t have it in me.

  “I’m fine,” I sigh. “I told you before I don’t need you to save me.”

  “I don’t think you know what you need. If you do you’re certainly not telling me,” he says and the words are so close to what my parents said not so long ago that again I wonder if he knows more about me than he should.

  “I’m really tired,” I mumble. My eyelids are so heavy I can barely keep my eyes open.

  “Noah, are you sick?” he asks gently. He sits next to me and takes my hand.

  “Sick?” I ask. Does he mean mental illness or just regular sick, like the flu or something? I’m too tired to be able to make sense of anything.

  “Are you sick? Is there something really wrong and you’re just afraid to tell me? I wouldn’t leave, Noah. I would be there for you no matter what. Just, PLEASE be honest with me.” I look at him with tired eyes. He looks so sad. It’s anguish that I see on his face.

  I think he means it too. I mean, if I was sick, like with a terminal disease or something I know he would stick by me. I have no doubt of that. In a way I wish that was the case. I may have physical symptoms but my real illness is all in my head and that is something no one would stick around through. Would they?

  I remember the way he talked about his biological father’s addiction. He didn’t think of it as an illness. He called him weak. If he knew the truth about me he’d think I’m weak. If he knew about the things in my past he’d say I was damaged. More and more I realize it’s only a matter of time before he finds out anyway. I mean, tonight was not good. When he does find out…will I be able to take it when he leaves? I don’t think that I will.


  “Can we please just go to sleep?” I say quietly. I think I’m actually going to be able to sleep. Max looks at me and I can see he wants to pursue this further but he can also see how exhausted I am, how I can barely keep my eyes open. He stands and takes my hand and leads me back to his room.

  He wraps himself around me like he usually does when we sleep. I sink into him as much as I can. I wish I could disappear into him. As tired as I am, he falls asleep long before I do. I can tell he’s asleep when his hold loosens and his breathing becomes deeper and more regular.

  “Max?” I say just to make sure he’s asleep. I roll over so I’m facing him and it’s too dark to really see him but I try to see his face anyway. I snuggle into his chest. “Max?” I say again and now I’m completely sure he’s asleep. “I’m sorry that I’m like this. I’m sorry I’m not what you deserve,” I whisper things I can’t say when he’s awake. Maybe on some level he can hear me like he did when he was in the hospital. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I love you.” I kiss his sleeping face and just like that I fall asleep.

  When I groggily open my eyes I’m met with stunning blue. We’re so close we’re practically nose to nose. Apparently I kept my arms around him all night. I force a smile that I don’t feel but that I really want to feel. He kisses the tip of my nose.

  “You are so adorable when you sleep,” he whispers. “You make these little sighing sounds, just so cute I can barely stand it. Right before you wake up your nose does this little twitching thing like a bunny.”

  “It does not!”

  “No, not really, but it is the most adorable nose I’ve ever seen,” he says as he kisses the tip of my nose again.

  “Stop,” I say, my cheeks warming. “How long have you been watching me? I didn’t drool did I?” He laughs.

  “I’ve been awake for a while. You never sleep later than me. It was nice,” he pulls me closer. “You don’t drool. You just look so sweet and content when you sleep.”

  We lie in bed for a while, just being with each other. We don’t talk. Occasionally we kiss. He tickles his fingers up and down my arms. He holds me close and rubs my back. I rub his stocking feet with my own and he rubs back and then it gets competitive and he laughs. I manage a smile.

  “Let’s go to the falls,” he says after some time has gone by. “It’s got to be frozen by now. It’s been so cold this month.”

  “Okay.” We get up and get dressed and join the rest of the Maxwells who are just finishing up breakfast. I force myself to eat even though the thought of food doesn’t appeal to me. I don’t want Max to believe his own theory about an eating disorder. After breakfast we bundle up and pack a bag with thermoses and blankets like the last time we went to the falls.

  As usual, Max holds my hand while he drives. He’s not wearing gloves so I take mine off so I can feel his skin. I open my mouth to speak then I shut it again before he notices. I was about to tell him while he’s awake what I said to him while he slept last night but I don’t have the courage.

  When we get to the turn off for the nature preserve Max pulls as close to the gate as he can before stopping the car. We put on our gloves and grab the bag. Before we begin the walk Max pulls me to him and kisses me and again I wonder where the wonderful butterflies have gone. It’s not that I don’t like his kisses any longer I’m just not feeling anything. I’m starting to get a little worried.

  It takes us longer to get to the falls than it ever has before and most of that is because there’s snow on the ground. There’s also the fact that I’m dragging my feet because I’m still really tired. We finally get to the spot where we have to slide down the bank and Max hands me the bag so he can slide down first.

  Suddenly I’m terrified. There’s too much snow and ice. What if he doesn’t stop at the bottom? What if it’s so slippery that he slides right over the edge? He did say that this place will kill him some day. I feel the light breakfast I ate rolling around in my stomach. As I reach out to grab his arm and stop him, he goes over the edge and my fingers just whisper against the fabric of his sleeve. I’m afraid to look but then I hear him calling to me and I peer over the edge. He tells me to throw the pack down so I do. I grab a sapling to start my decent and I have no fear for myself as I slide down to the ledge. I don’t really care what happens to me.

  Max leaps to the next ledge first too and I can’t stand to watch but he makes it just fine. He was right. The falls are frozen and it’s a magnificent sight. I don’t jump right away. I just stand and take in the view. It’s amazing and I wonder how it’s possible that so much moving water can just freeze in motion like that.

  “Noah, come on!” he calls. “I’m freaking freezing!” I shake myself out of my reverie and throw the pack to him then I jump across. It’s weird ducking behind a solid wall of ice instead of the ever flowing water. Once we’re behind the falls I get close to the ice and reach out a hand to touch it. Eventually I feel a hand on my shoulder and Max is there behind me.

  “It’s beautiful,” I say in awe.

  “You’re beautiful,” he says and kisses me. I let him lead me to the sleeping bags which he has zipped together so we can both climb inside.

  “It’s so quiet,” I whisper because it seems wrong to break the silence. “I think it’s even more amazing like this.”

  “I knew you’d get it,” he tells me. I know that Max can tell I’m still not okay but he’s not pushing me today. He holds me and strokes my hair when my hat falls off my head. He talks to me in a low, soothing tone. He takes off his gloves so he can touch my cheeks and my hair. As always, he makes me feel cherished. I wish this could last forever. Somehow I manage to fall asleep.

  I dream about my grandfather Blakely. It’s a weird dream because I don’t really remember Gramps and yet he’s so clear to me in my dream. In the dream he tells me something that he says is very important. He says it’s information I’m going to need that my parents don’t want me to have. I listen intently because he says it’s so important but when I wake abruptly I don’t remember anything.

  “You okay?” Max asks.

  “Yeah, fine. I was having the strangest dream.”

  “It seemed like a nightmare,” Max says as he gives me a squeeze.

  “Max, I think my Gramps killed himself,” I say surprising myself as much as Max.

  “What? Why would you say that?” he suddenly seems very concerned.

  “I guess I was just thinking in my sleep. I think that’s what the dream was. There are things I never knew about him that I only found out recently. He died when I was around five so I don’t remember much. My dad doesn’t speak of him often.”

  “What would make you think he killed himself?” Max asks. “How did he die?”

  “They say it was a car accident.”

  “You don’t believe that?”

  “I believe he died in a car crash. I don’t believe the accident part. He never left the house. For the last year of his life he didn’t leave the house. So why would he suddenly be driving anywhere? I did some research. It’s amazing what you can find out online. There were no tire tracks. He didn’t even try to stop or swerve. I think he did it on purpose.”

  I realize that’s what Gramps was telling me in the dream. I had looked up details of his death on the computer but I wasn’t really sure what I was looking for. After Mom and Dad admitted that I got my crazy from him they refused to talk about him anymore so I started looking. I think the dream was my subconscious mind connecting the dots for me. Why I told Max my theory is anyone’s guess.

  “I’m sorry it hurts you,” he says. “Why do you think he would do that?”

  “I have no idea,” I lie. I have a pretty good idea of why he would do that. How many years did he live with the constant fear and worry and sadness? It finally broke him. I sigh.

  “Noah, I don’t think you should worry about this. It happened like twelve years ago. I’m sure it really was just a car accident. You shouldn’t feel bad about your gran
dfather. I’m sure he didn’t do that.”

  “What do you mean?” I ask because he seems to be implying something I’m just not getting.

  “I mean, I’m sure he wouldn’t have left your dad and your grandmother and you on purpose.”

  “What if he didn’t see any choice? What if it was the only way?” I whisper but he hears me.

  “There’s always another way. My dad’s brother…” Max stops.

  “You think he did, right?” He nods.

  “My dad does. He was really angry about it for a long time. He said it was selfish.”

  “Do you think that? Do you think it’s selfish? I hold my breath.

  “I do. I think leaving everyone behind like that, to mourn, to feel guilty, to wonder what they could have done, I think it’s wrong and selfish. I’m not sure my dad will ever get over it completely.”

  “I just worry,” I sigh. I have to blame this on lack of sleep now. I don’t know why else I would tell him any of this. I’m terrified of losing him when he finds out I’m “unstable” and yet I’m practically leading him to that conclusion. What the Hell is wrong with me? Oh yeah, I’m nuts. “I worry all of the time about things I can’t control. I can’t sleep. I can’t eat. I don’t know why I can’t just stop.” The last sentence comes out in a sort of sob and he pulls me close.

  “Mon Coeur, worry is such a waste of your time. Worrying can’t change anything. Worry will just steal your joy. Don’t let worry keep you busy with things you can’t control instead of enjoying your life.” He’s practically pleading and he’s right. Everything he said is so exactly right and yet it’s easy to say but completely different to DO.

  Dr. Cooper tells me that hiding the truth about me and my panic disorder and anxiety and the rest of it is exhausting and not working. Week after week he tries to get me to open up and confess to just one person outside of my family but I can’t do it. I don’t want to be known as the crazy kid. I don’t want to be fragile Noah, the kid with the shrink. I really don’t want anyone to know about those three months when I was fourteen.