Revive Me

by Ferrell, Charity

  The snow crunched underneath our boots as Tessa’s glove-covered hand clasped mine tightly. She tightened the scarf around her neck and snuggled into my side as we trudged through the parking lot.

  We walked through the double doors and into the hearing room. The first face I saw was hers. I’d been young, but I still recognized his wife from my dad’s sentencing. My mom had drug me to it, and I’d kept my attention on her, watching her tears flow the entire time. When they’d read my dad’s verdict, a woman held her up as she wailed and cursed at the jury. I didn’t blame her. He should’ve gotten more time for his crime.

  She was seated on the right side of the room gripping a tissue in her hand as people surrounded her. It didn’t surprise me they were going to fight against his release.

  I lead Tessa to the opposite side of the room, and we slid along the bench in the row behind my mom. Her hands were in her lap as she fidgeted with them nervously. I leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek from behind. “Hey Ma,” I said, wrapping my arms around her shoulders.

  She patted my arms. “Thank you for coming. I’ve been trying to call you all morning.”

  I’d stayed at Cody’s last night so I wouldn’t have to talk to her this morning, but her calls started at five. I’d texted her and told her I’d be there. “Sorry, I had my phone on vibrate, and I wanted to keep my eyes on the road,” I replied. “It’s getting bad out.”

  She smiled weakly. “That’s okay. You made it here and that’s all that matters.” She glanced over at Tessa and gave her a head-nod, resulting in a friendly wave from her.

  “I’ve been praying this works out in your father’s favor,” she said. “If they accept his parole, his lawyer said he’d be home in the next sixty to ninety days, and we’ll have our family back.” I held back the urge to roll my eyes at her excitement. We’d never be a family, but I nodded and kept my mouth shut.

  Everyone’s attention went to the side of the room when a door clicked open. My dad’s feet were in shackles with his hands cuffed in front of his stomach as two guards escorted him in. He was wearing the same brown jumpsuit from when I’d visited him. His hair was cut short, the ponytail gone and the goatee shaved from his face. He looked over at us. My mom blew him a kiss, and he nodded a few times as I fought down the bile rising up my throat. God, I wanted her to move on. She’d never be happy with him.

  All of us rose from their seat when the parole board walked in. File folders were gripped in their hands and they sat down in the row of seats situated at the front of the room. They looked from my father, to his attorney, and then to the prosecution like they were doing a pre-screening. I counted the bodies. There were seven. An odd number to be sure a final decision was made.

  They went through the details of the crime. I sat there quietly and tried to recreate the scenes in my head. They weren’t pretty ones. They talked about how my father went into a bank, demanded money, and then accidently shot the security guard when he tried to disarm him. They’d only give him manslaughter because he didn’t mean for the gun to fire. He never pointed it at the guard, and the trigger pulled as they fought over it. I shook my head in disgust. He’d went into the bank with every intent of robbing it, and he had a gun to be sure nothing got in his way. Sometimes the law let people off the hook too easily. And sometimes they went hard on people who didn’t deserve it. It was fucked up.

  The prosecution argued that my dad was a danger to society. He had a long rap sheet of convictions and incarcerations. He’d been in and out of prison throughout his life … throughout my life. I hardly knew him, and I owed him no sympathy. If someone does something that despicable, you have a right to feel like they needed to deal with the consequences, blood or not. How was I supposed to stick up for this man I hardly knew?

  The victim’s family stood up for the chance to argue his release. His wife was the only one who spoke. She talked through sobs about how confused her children still are when they ask where Daddy is. She looked at my dad dead in the eye as she explained how hard it is to pay the bills and had to move in with her parents because she can’t afford a home with only her income.

  My dad’s lawyer finally approached the bench and began his argument. He boasted about his good behavior and how he was working hard in the kitchen providing meals to his fellow inmates. He brought up the apology he’d given the family the day of his hearing. He tried his hardest to create a shining halo above his head. My mom was definitely getting her money’s worth. Every thousand of it.

  “And would anyone like to speak on behalf of the defendant?” A man seated in the center asked. My mom scurried to her feet. She told the crowd with tears in her eyes about how badly she needed him home, he’d learned his lesson, and she was having her own financial difficulties. She wanted her family back, and I needed a father. She told them about the shooting and how I’d lost my best friend. My loss would be sharpest key to unlock his chains. I tightened my hold on Tessa’s hand while I dug the other into the wooden bench beneath me. She closed her statement by telling the courtroom I’d like to speak, as well.

  I slammed my eyes shut and slowly opened them as all eyes fell on me. I hoped she wouldn’t involve me. I hoped seeing my father would cloud her train of thought, and she’d forget about me being in the room. I gulped, rising up from the bench slowly, and walked up to her side. I didn’t touch her. I just opened my mouth and did what I’d been contemplating for months.

  “I don’t think my father should be released from prison,” I said. The room up roared with different reactions, most of them shock, and a fresh sob tore from my mom’s chest as she took a step away from me. The victim’s wife collapsed onto the bench as everyone stared at me with open mouths. I pointed to my dad sitting at the table and took a good look at him. His nails bit into his palms as the veins in his neck twitched underneath his skin.

  “This man has done nothing but destroy my family and others. If he gets released, that won’t change.” I looked straight into the crowd and at Tessa. Her eyes met mine and she nodded in support. “He’s been released before. He swore up and down he was a changed man. Then he went and robbed a bank. He robbed a bank and killed an innocent man. My mother is right when she says I’ve been going through a lot this past year, and I do need a father. But that man is not a father.”

  Tessa

  “Can you take these to your car?” Dawson asked, handing me two heavy, trash bags full of clothes. We’d driven straight to his house after the hearing, hoping to beat his mom and get out before she got home. I’d followed him to his room as he threw all of his belongings into bags. I’d never forget the rage on his mom’s face. I knew it was going to turn ugly when Dawson started talking. He’d told me he wasn’t sure what he was going to do, so I was just as shocked as everyone else. I focused on his mom as he talked, her eyes turning cold as she pressed her hands against her stomach, and cowered away from him.

  His dad’s parole was denied, and his mom told him to get all of his belongings out of her house as soon as we left the room. I’d wanted to slap her in her face and scream at her for the mistake she was making. She knew Dawson had nowhere to go, and he’d given his mom most of his money to help with bills.

  I nodded, taking the bags from him, and walking out as the brisk air hit me in the face. I unlocked my car, bending down to release the trunk, and trekked back to the end of the car, careful not to slide across the ice. I tossed the bags into the trunk and turned around at the sound of tires pulling up next to me.

  “Was this your idea?” Dawson’s mom asked, getting out quickly, slamming her car door, and marching up to me with her hands latched to her hips.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I answered, looking away from her. I’d only met her a few times, she wasn’t around much, but she’d always been nice to me.

  “Did you tell him not to help this father out?” Venom spewed with her words, and I took a cautious step away from her.

  I shook my head, tightening my scarf aroun
d my neck with shivering hands. “I didn’t. Dawson makes his own decisions about his happiness, and that’s what I want.”

  “And you don’t think I want my son to be happy?”

  “It doesn’t seem like it.” She winced. I knew it probably wasn’t a good idea for me to get on her bad side, but I was going to stand up for Dawson. It was my turn to be his wall.

  “And I’m sure you and your family’s stuck-up, rich influence had nothing to do with it,” she fired back.

  I shook my head. “No, they didn’t. No one did.”

  “Listen here, Ms. Goody Two-Shoes, we all know your high-profile daddy got put in the slammer for joyriding while drunk, so maybe you shouldn’t look down on people. Maybe you should understand people deserve a second chance.”

  Tears pricked at my eyes. I knew what my dad had done was wrong, but I understood second chances, I did. But that second chance wasn’t mine to give. It was Dawson’s and it wasn’t just the second. Dawson’s dad had continuously let him down.

  I slammed my trunk shut. “You stop it right there,” I said, my voice as cold as the snow surrounding us, “don’t you dare talk about my family. I understand you’re upset with Dawson, but you should support his decision, not lash out at him, or me, because it didn’t go your way. Don’t you want him to be happy? He’s always done that for you. Everything Dawson has done was for your happiness. Now it’s time to do the same for him.”

  My shoulders slumped, and I hoped my words would wake her up. “You think I’m going to support him when he’s the reason Phillip got more time?” Nope, she was still asleep.

  I shook my head at her in disgust. “More time? He got sentenced for that time because of the crime he committed. Do you think they were honestly going to let him free? Every single person in that victim’s family was there, and they weren’t going home without a fight. Now, if I were you, and I loved my son as much as I know you do, I would go apologize, tell him to put his things back, and make things right before you have nobody. He’s not only doing this for himself, you know.” I needed to add more fuel to the fire. I needed her to not let her son go.

  “You stupid little bitch,” she snapped, swatting my hand away from the trunk, and I took another step back nervously. She had fire burning in her eyes, and I wasn’t sure what she’d do next.

  “Ma, get away from her,” Dawson warned. I turned around to find him standing on the edge of his porch with more bags in his hands. “Leave her alone. She had nothing to do with this. If you want to be pissed at someone, be pissed at me.” He walked down the stairs, tossing the trash bags with a backpack strapped over his shoulders into my backseat, and stood in front of her.

  “I’m not doing anything,” she cried. “I warned you about what would happen.”

  “I did what you asked! I showed up, and I spoke. That’s all you asked. You never told me to beg them to let him free,” he said.

  “I didn’t know I had to spell shit out for you. I didn’t expect you to come in there and make it worse. You were supposed to tell them you needed your dad.”

  “I don’t need him!” Dawson yelled out in frustration.

  “But I do!” She cried, slamming her finger into his chest. “Don’t you get that you selfish brat? I need him! You have the girl you love.” She looked angrily at me and pointed in my direction. “Why can’t you want the same for me?”

  “It’s not like that,” Dawson started to explain, but she cut him off.

  “Save it. It doesn’t matter anymore. Just get your shit outta here. You’re not welcome here. Stay the hell away from me. I’ll be back in my room while you finish getting your things.” She stuck her hand out. “Key,” she demanded, her voice void of emotion.

  Every bit of color drained from Dawson’s face. He fished his key ring from his pocket and unclipped a small, silver key. “Here,” he said, placing it gently into her hand. “I love you, Ma. I just want you to know that.”

  She looked up at him, a single tear dripping down her cheek. “Good luck,” she said, turning around and going into the house.

  “Dawson,” I said quietly, taking a few steps toward him.

  He held out his hands to stop me. “Please get in the car and turn on the heat. You shouldn’t be standing out here in the cold. I just need to grab a few more things.”

  I nodded, watching him head back into the house before getting into my car. I shivered again, turning the heat on high, taking off my gloves, and running my hands back and forth against each other.

  The passenger door opened, and Dawson slumped into the passenger seat. “Just drive,” he said, spreading the seat belt across his body while I did the same thing. “I need to get the hell away from here.”

  I nodded, creeping the car out of the driveway, and slowly turning onto the street. “What are you going to do?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “I’ve got some money, not enough to get a place yet, but I’ll ask for extra shifts. I need to get ahold of Cody or Ollie to see if I can crash at their place. If not, I can stay at a motel.”

  “You can stay with us,” I rushed out, keeping my eyes on the road.

  “I appreciate the offer, baby, but I don’t think your parents will go for that.”

  “Why? You’ve spent the night at my house hundreds of times.”

  “Right, that’s when I would hang out with your brother, and I wasn’t dating you.”

  “There’s not a difference.”

  “Oh, babe, there’s a big difference.”

  It was only a few days before Christmas. There was no way I was letting him stay at some motel or with a friend. I liked Cody and Ollie, but there wasn’t enough room for Dawson to stay at their houses. He needed to be with his family for the holidays, and we were his family.

  “They love you,” I said. “We can ask. What’s the worst that can happen? They say no? If that happens we’ll come up with another plan.” I carefully turned the corner and corrected my wheel before we slid into the other lane.

  “God,” he groaned tilting his head against the brisk window and a circle forming near his breath. “This is fucking humiliating.” Dawson hated asking me for help with anything.

  “We’re past humiliating ourselves in front of each other, remember?” I asked, grinning over at him. “I’ve seen you act like a drunken fool, sliding around the floor, and salivating over the last White Castle.”

  He gave me a weak smile. “I told you not to bring that shit up, ever. You promised.”

  “Oh please, just like I told you not to bring up my terrible face mask experiment.”

  He cracked a smile. “Oh man, we’re one indestructible pair, aren’t we?”

  I nodded. “Yep, we already know each other’s flaws, so nothing can surprise us now.”

  “But are they really flaws if I’m in love with them?” he asked, his lips spreading apart wider.

  I looked over at him grinning. “No, I guess they’re not.”

  Tessa

  I saw in the recliner watching spread blankets across the couch in our living room. He grabbed a few pillows and situated them before falling back against the cushions. My parents offered to let Dawson stay with us. He was apprehensive at first, embarrassed, but they wouldn’t take no for an answer.

  They’d been recovering well. They hadn’t had a sip, to my knowledge, of alcohol and they were home every night spending time with us. Things weren’t perfect, but they were getting better.

  I rose from the chair and fell down next to him. “Has your mom called back yet?” I asked, mentally crossing my fingers she’d called him while I was upstairs changing for bed. She would realize what a mistake she’d made and call to apologize.

  He shook his head. “Nope, I checked my phone a few times and then turned it off. I’m not going to wait around for a call I know isn’t coming.”

  I sighed, allowing my head to fall down on his shoulder. I knew he was going through a rollercoaster of emotions. He’d lost what little family he’d had, and the only belongings he n
ow owned were the trash bags we’d put in my trunk.

  “Maybe she’ll change her mind.”

  “No. She made her decision. She turned her back on the one person who’s always been there for her.” His voice grew harder. “I was the one who begged for more hours at work so I could help with the bills, and in return she’d hand the money over to him or his lawyer. We’d go without groceries because he’d beg for commissary. He needed extra money for good food; meanwhile, we’re living off leftover pizza from work and peanut butter sandwiches. Everything is always about him, every damn thing, and she’s never going to learn. I knew if he got out, it would be worse. He would use her until he broke down every piece, and she’d eventually have nothing or nobody. At least now he can’t leave her.”

  His hands wrapped around my waist, and I crouched down until my head rested on his lap comfortably. He looked down, and I felt his soft fingertips brush the hair from the bottom of the bandage and away from my face. “You’re always helping people,” I whispered. “You’re amazing, in case you didn’t already know.”

  “I help the people I love,” he replied, leaning forward and kissing me.

  I took a deep breath of courage. He needed to know. He needed to know everyone wasn’t against him. His head shot forward as I abruptly pulled myself up from his lap. I stood in front of him, looking down at him nervously, and watched his eyes bore into mine underneath the soft ceiling light. I lifted a leg and gently brought myself back down to straddle his lap.

  “You know I love you, right?” I asked, resting my palms against his chest. He needed to know that. “I know you told me to wait until I loved myself, but I want you to know where my head and my heart are. I want you to know it’s you who makes me this happy. It’s you I want to be with for the rest of my life.”