Kamikaze Heart

by Craze, Chelle C.

  “Well, Blackwell will grow on you.” She smiled, and rainbows and musicals all but beamed outward from her words.

  I couldn’t stop the cough that snuck out of my body, even if I wanted to. It just happened.

  “You okay?” she asked, genuinely concerned for my wellbeing.

  “I’m good, just ready to get this over with.” The brutal sadness of my words dripped with depression and guilt. But, thankfully, she didn’t seem to notice any of it as she smiled and led the way back to the kitchen.

  “Ray had to leave. He has church, but I didn’t tell you that,” she said under her breath, eyeing Sam who was putting the finishing touches on today’s special. Gumbo. I might have been born in West Virginia, but my parents transplanted us to Mississippi when I was eight, following Dad’s job relocation. We were only there a year before moving back to the Appalachian Mountains of West Virginia. I refused to acknowledge the irony of this being my chance destination until now. I wasn’t too far away from where we had lived.

  “Church on a Friday? Is it a revival?” I had attended church every Wednesday evening, Saturday mornings, and sometimes twice on Sunday growing up, but rarely on a Friday. Unless it was Bible school or a revival was going on, most people were not at church on Friday.

  “Not that kind of church, hun.” She smiled as if she was privy to some secret I was not a part of. “MC church,” she politely added as if it would make me understand what she was talking about.

  “Oh.” I incredulously nodded, simply to appease her, but I had absolutely no idea what denomination an MC church fell into.

  There was one thing I did know. Gumbo. It was a staple food of the South. The ingredients just depended on where you were located. It was one thing I learned when we moved. I loathed my parents for forcing me to leave my friends and the life I knew behind, yet here I was back in the South, an area I’d spent so little time in if the grand scheme of life were considered. When you were a child, time passed differently in your innocence. After experiences and pain had tainted you, you appreciated the slowness of life whenever you found it. That was what I hoped to find here this time. Instead, I found Elijah “Eli” Boudreau.

  * * *

  After the lunch rush ended, Desiree took pity on my quickly fading steam and sent me on my way. I didn’t know the area at all, so I just looked left and then right, not knowing what direction I needed to take to lead me to the pitiful excuse I had to call a home. The first thing I would do when I got there, if I did, was look for Alf again. He hadn’t returned all night, and I was more than worried. He was the only piece of Armon I had left. He used to be a fun, playful cat, but that was before we lost the most important thing in our life. Armon…and before he lost his balls. Either could have been the reason he changed. I certainly had.

  “Left,” I mumbled in an uncertain tone, willing my black flats to move. Every part of me lacked motivation. I wished the drive came as second nature to me, but it didn’t. Each movement of my body was something that required effort. Giving up would be so much easier, but it was not what Armon would want. It wasn’t what he would let me do. He was my strength. My Fight. The years spent without him had been spent in a midpoint. I was only counting down the seconds until we were reunited.

  My mind was dizzy, and honestly, giving up was not such a bad idea anymore. Would he forgive me if I did? Would he still love me? I would never forgive myself. I would never forget his beautiful angelic body being so still and unable to be lifted from the cheap casket because his wings of life had been ripped from him.

  I watched as the breath left his little body, and I wanted to die right beside him. As the tears streamed down my face in the gallons, I begged God to take me instead, but He didn’t. In that moment I questioned the very breath passing through my body, and I absolutely hated it. Momentarily, I stopped my lungs from expanding, stupidly thinking I could trade my life for his, but the thing was, I didn’t hold that power, even though I wished I could.

  “Mommy, it’s okay,” Armon gasped the words he had grown used to saying many times before. What left his lips next broke me beyond any hope of ever being repaired. “You’ll be okay,” he reassured me, knowing it was what I would tell him if the situation were reversed. Life was a cruel, cruel bastard. As a parent, you had an idea of how the natural order of things was supposed to go. The parent died and then the child, not the reverse. Holding his little face within my hands, I crumbled into a million pieces. Actually, I couldn’t count the pieces I shattered into, because I had lost the ability to count. The ability to do anything apart from break.

  I could feel it beginning in the pit of my stomach, the warmth of heartbreak as it ripped through my body and gashed its way to the surface. My heart forgot it was supposed to beat out anything other than guilt, pain, and hate for the cold, heartless fucking world that was capable of taking such a beautiful soul away from the people living in it.

  I laid my head against his chest that was no longer rising, his body that had been full of life since the moment his lungs first expanded. The moment I saw our entire future grow and give me hope for tomorrow. It was gone. All of it. There was no future for me at all, other than death. I prayed for it. No matter how horrific, I craved it. I needed it more than anything I had ever desired in my life. I wanted it to end because I had no purpose now. How could I?

  The memory strangled me as the preacher began his prayer. My eyes remained open so long they burned from the brutal reality of the world. I sat mere inches from my child’s lifeless body. His small frame would never know the gift of laughter, and my ears would never hear the music of it. All of his dreams and hopes now lay within a pine box and would never know the light of day. Instead, they would be buried beneath the earth along with the rest of his perfection. The only good in the entire universe I had ever known.

  I cried an empty prayer for his life, knowing it wouldn’t ever be returned to his body. It was selfish for me to ask this of God, I knew it, but I did it anyway. I needed it to be possible, even if the truth was it would never be fulfilled.

  My mom sat beside me, and her body rattled heartbreak as she squeezed my hand within hers. Dad was behind me, holding my shoulders and keeping my body in this world, when all I wanted was to leave with my child. I wished he would let me go and I could float into the heavens with Armon, but he held me so tight I didn’t have a choice but to remain here with the rest of them.

  As the preacher said, “Amen,” I closed my eyes, refusing to look at the sorrow swelling in everyone’s eyes. If I looked at them, it meant this was real and I decided I wouldn’t do it. I couldn’t. I had never known it was possible to break apart from the world and still be able to live. It was, and I wasn’t strong enough to withstand any of this.

  My head spun, and my eyes wept as I cursed every person around me not lying where my son was. It wasn’t fair. Our bodies were worn with sin, while he had barely been given the chance to whisper the slightest of lies.

  In this version of life, everyone around me sat in hell along with me and the spoons that would never reach our mouths. Leaving us unsated was my son’s breathless, borrowed fate. I wished for nothing more than to give him what he needed, but at this point it was no longer what he needed, but what I did. It was selfish, but I needed him. He was the spoon to my mouth, the only thing that would relieve this drowning agony. From this point on, I knew I would not be whole. Without Armon, I was as useless as a puzzle seen to its completion. I couldn’t go back in time and return to the box as I was. So, I was fated to be left out in the world, collecting dust until I was brushed into the trash with the rest of the waste. The only other choice was being torn apart and shoved into a box that would be buried and eventually forgotten.

  In life, there were things that were unstoppable, regardless of your body pushing way beyond its breaking point and into actual physical pain to prevent them. It was in those moments you knew without any doubt you’d made a difference. You had to because you knew you couldn’t have wasted all o
f that energy and time for nothing. Sometimes in life, it didn’t matter how much of yourself you gave. You still crossed the finish line empty-handed.

  If you considered yourself a good person, or even a bad one, it usually didn’t matter in situations like that. No one was powerful enough to stop certain things like death and often the breaking of your own heart. When it showed up, you made room for it, because you had to, completely defenseless to the gut-wrenching blows thrown at you in the form of loss.

  This was how Armon left this world. I tried to save him, but couldn’t. And so, I gave up hope. I did not need the trivial job I thought was so important that I rushed us every morning to get ready. When I could have taken my time, meticulously burning each smile that graced his tiny face into my memory. The tears I wasted on overdue bills were something of the past, because the ones traveling my face now were far more purposeful. All of these thoughts pounded in my head that I had taken every second I had spent with my son for granted. There wasn’t another thing I could do other than give up. And so, I did. That was the consequence of being unsuccessful when you tried to save someone. You were meaningless, a shell of the person you used to be. The things that used to be important no longer held reason, which left your body empty and confused which step to take next. That was where I found myself in this empty life. The direction I took did not matter, because it would never be the right one.

  My cousin, Dan, stood, and as soon as the first note of the song left his mouth, I lost it. Every ounce of control I had clung to for so long. I had told him the song choice was his, but I shouldn’t have given him that strength, the power to do this. The power to rip the very breath from my lungs and obliterate the tiny life my weakened heart was barely able to course through my body. Tears of hate sprang from my eyes as his wife harmonized the words of “Autumn” by The Rigs, and I buried my face in my hands. Armon and I shared a love for many things, but music and dancing were what had gotten us through the hardest of times. If he were here, I knew without question he would be singing along with our family and under any other circumstance, I would be, too. I wasn’t singing. I did not dance. I was dying as the excruciating seconds ticked by without him.

  17

  Trinity

  I had been on foot for about fifteen or so minutes—really, I had no idea. My feet hurt where the pleather shoes rubbed against my skin, and tears fell from my eyes. I just wanted this day to be over. Falling for Eli had consequences that I never dreamed I would ever face. Mostly because I hadn’t planned for our lives to intertwine so incredibly tight as they had. I didn’t know if I was strong enough to walk into the bitter sunset and untangle myself from him, if he had a change of heart or if he would be another shadow dancer in my recital of memories.

  I had been emotionally drained for weeks, and after today’s shift at the restaurant, being physically tired added to the list.

  A familiar male voice beckoned my weary body to push forward, with the promise to put an end to my journey. My eyes darted around and found his truck before they had a chance to find him.

  As I rested my body against the cool brick wall, something within me whispered everything would be okay when I found him. I was not sure where I would sleep, but that was the one thing I was positive of. When my eyes closed, I would crash hard.

  “I’ll always love you, Jocelyn,” Eli professed as he kissed the side of her face. My chest heaved in panic, and even though his engagement was no longer a secret, seeing them together did something to my body I never anticipated. The tears that had vanished minutes ago were back vigorously. I looked away as fast as I could, because I didn’t have the right to be jealous. Whether my feelings were justified or not, I was a slave to how I felt. Maybe had this happened a day ago, I could have untangled myself from him and moved on without ever thinking of him again. But, it wasn’t yesterday, it was today, and I didn’t hold the mythical power of time travel. So, I couldn’t erase what had happened between us and honestly, I wasn’t sure I would, if I somehow was given that miraculous ability. Today, I had awoken with a false sense of happiness. I was relieved to finally let go and allow myself to feel anything for someone else other than hate and guilt. Those thoughts rapidly vanished when I remembered he was engaged. A fact that was indisputable now as I watched them together.

  Stupidly, I cared for Eli, and it wasn’t until this moment it was clear the amount was far more than I imagined. My eyes burned with the sight of their display of affection, and I wanted to say something to dispute it, but I couldn’t. My pain and feelings of betrayal would remain unspoken, because there was no alternate universe where anything I had to say would help this situation.

  As I squared my shoulders with fortitude and pushed off the wall, I swore this was the last time. I would never put myself in any situation where I could be hurt again. Ever. I would not survive it.

  18

  Eli

  After saying my goodbyes and was at peace with how Jocelyn and I ended things, I headed toward my truck. Checking the time on my phone, I figured enough time had passed that even if Trinity’s shift hadn’t ended, she might need to see a friendly face. The truth was, I wanted to check on her. She had not so much as tried to connect with anyone, other than me, since she had arrived. I think it was an accident that she let me in. Maybe it was because we shared the same house. A variable I did not think would remain much longer. I wouldn’t push her in one way or another. The new volatile information of how I felt about her spread every second after I discovered its existence. Now, I didn’t know what to do with it, but telling her was not an option at this point. I refused to dump that on her, when she hadn’t even made it to the healing portion of her life. She had too much on her plate already, and I feared if any more sizable weight was added, it would clatter to the floor and shatter around us.

  I didn’t leave through the salon as I had come. It was quicker to take the alley to where I was parked right in front of the shop. I wasn’t sure of the reason, but I looked to the right instead of the left where my truck was. There she was, with her back to me in a brisk walk, increasing the distance between us.

  “Trinity!” I shouted, and my body ignited at the mere sight of her. Expecting her to turn around, I plastered a smile on my face, but it quickly fell when her pace quickened.

  I repeated her name, and her feet rose and fell against the pavement faster with each step. She must have had a horrible first day and didn’t want to see anyone. I should have given her space. It was what she needed, or at least I would if the roles were reversed. Honestly, I was going purely off instinct, because it was all I could do.

  She paused momentarily and glanced back at me. I didn’t know it was possible to feel someone’s pain in only matter of a few seconds, but what lay within her eyes was the most heartbreaking thing I had ever experienced. My veins collapsed, unable to push the blood forward with the frigid pain she injected them with.

  “Trinity,” I weakly managed to mumble as I ran behind her, steadily gaining distance with each pound of my boots against the sidewalk. “Please,” I begged in such a puny voice I did not recognize it, but she did not stop. “Trinity McConaughey,” I shouted in the highest volume my dry throat would allow in between trying to gasp for breath.

  “What, Eli?” Her feet suddenly froze in place and she turned to face me.

  “Please stop,” I bargained with her, fighting the urge to spill all of my thoughts onto her.

  “I have,” she barked, and her eyes softened after a beat. “I’m sorry. I’m tired. I just want to go to sleep.” She offered the frail excuse, and I didn’t call her on it. I didn’t know why. Normally, I would have and probably found some way to make her smile. But that was before I learned why she acted the way she did. I guess it was because where we were was unknown territory. Neither of us had ever been in the unfortunate state we were in. I couldn’t ask her to care for me, but that didn’t stop me from wanting it. I wanted to grab her body and kiss her until every ounce of pain left her, like I had
last night, but I didn’t.

  “Okay. Let’s go home.” I shrugged breathlessly, hoping it would be enough to get her in the truck with me, and stopped running, speaking when I had a minute to catch my breath and could speak in a sensible tone. I didn’t have a plan after that, but at this point, I would take everything one step at a time. You could not plan for something you didn’t understand. The only thing you could do was take the first step and pray the one that followed would not be the one to end it all.

  Without another word, I turned on my feet, questioning my every word on the way to the truck. There were so many things that needed to be said, so many things I wanted to do, but I couldn’t. The only thing I could do now was hope she followed me.

  After the longest pause of my life, her light footsteps crunched behind mine, and it was then my lungs figured out how to breathe normally again. When she had asked if one person had ever given me purpose and I had absentmindedly agreed, I didn’t truly know what I was saying. Now that she’d selflessly given a part of herself to me, I did. My body’s every action was so tightly fused to her that it could not find the strength to function properly at the slightest possibility of losing her. That was what I had promised, but I didn’t fully understand what she was asking until now. Only I had no fucking clue what I was going to do now that I knew the truth.

  19

  Eli

  We’d ridden in complete silence for ten minutes, and I wished to have the correct words to say to kill the void, but I didn’t know what she was thinking. She was an impenetrable Pandora’s box, and I held her too close. I had never been so selfless in all my life, while still clinging to the things I selfishly wanted. I didn’t know which direction north was when we were together, not that I had much grasp on it when we were apart either.