by Cage, Aria
I nod. “Yeah, he can eat.” Then she was gone, leaving me to stare after her. She’s angry, and I can’t blame her. 7:42 this morning, her grandson was brought into emergency room of Beaver Dam Community Hospital. Thirteen-and-a-half hours later, he is home and so is his broken, long-lost puppy. Nona doesn’t need this kind of stress, but I don’t know if I can leave him yet.
I turn back to Nate, and he is shaking his head and trying to sit up. “No, no, no,” he chants. “Don’t you dare go!” I rush to his side and push against his good shoulder, wary of his injury.
“I never said I was,” I try to soothe.
“I know you. I can read you like a book.”
“You never could read very well.”
Nate falls back and looks up at me in stunned silence until a huge grin spreads across his face, reaching his eyes. I love that smile.
Davey was back with a pillow and a blanket, his smile like his brother’s. Nate told me they had different fathers, but I can see a strong resemblance, so I assume that they take after their mother with their dark hair, soft mouths, and wide chests. The major difference is in their eyes. Nate’s are hazel until he is real mad, and then they are darker; they are his mood indicator, like the ring he gave me when I was eight. Davey has blue eyes, sweet and beautiful. I’ve never seen him mad; I don’t think he has it in him.
Davey gives me the pillow, and I take it, gently aiding Nate up as I slide it behind him.
“I don’t want the blanket, it’s hotter than hell,” he chides. I give him a look and nod, taking the blanket and folding it over the back of the sofa in case he needs it.
“So did you commit a breakout or actually sign out against doctor’s advice?”
He cocks his head and gives me that look, the one that says I should know better by now. He never did anything by the book.
“So you didn’t get the drugs you need?”
“I don’t want them.”
My mouth opens to yell, but I hold it in and exhale slowly. “You need pain relief, and who knows what else. More than likely you need antibiotics and dressings, and if all else fails, a club over the head for being so stupid.”
“I don’t want the pain relief, the club—”
“Why not? Have you turned into such a masochist you enjoy the pain now?” As soon as the words flew from my mouth, I wanted to take them back. I just opened up the door to the past we both never would want to visit. I wait for him to mutter the words that will grind me back to the ground. Sweat beads down my back, reeking of fear and anticipation.
“Because… I could easily have become an addict a long time ago. I was close, so I try not to risk it.”
I’m shocked. I was more than shocked as I picture the youthful, seventeen-year-old boy I had been ripped from eleven years ago. I can’t see him giving into the likes of drugs, not when he was so dead against them because of his mother. He was a fighter, hated alcohol and drugs because of what they could do to families. I just don’t get it. What had he gone through in prison that would drive him so low? The thought terrifies me.
“It’s not what you think, Charlie,” he says softly, almost disappointed. “I got hurt pretty bad and had to―”
“Enough chatter. Eat,” Nona commands as she carries two plates of roasted meat and vegetables out, Davey following with a pitcher of iced tea. “You both have a lot of history and a hell of a lot to talk about. Not all of it has to be faced in one night.”
She’s right… and very, very wrong. I don’t plan on sharing any more than he knows, because after I share this meal, I have to go back to the life I have made without them. I love them more than anyone, including Paul. I miss them more than I can say, but that doesn’t change anything. It didn’t change anything back then, and it can’t change now. Too much time has passed and yet not enough pain.
They have been through too much because of me, and I will not allow any more to come.
IT’S GETTING WORSE. Not what her father wants us to do; that has never really changed over the six years. Six fucking years. He is methodical in what he wants from her―the same thing every time. Same place, same time, same sick and twisted game. I whisper stories of Neverland in her ear when I feel her stiffen against me. I don’t want her to be repulsed by my touch, as I no longer am.
I was too young when this all began to understand the feeling I had at nine. I knew it was wrong, that was clear, but I was never repulsed by her. Instead, I feel as though I have betrayed her. I guess it’s because I haven’t been able to save her. Now I face the dilemma on a day to day basis of loving her. I’m fifteen, and I love a girl who is so damaged, she no longer talks to anyone at school but me.
Boys still look at her, but I give them the firm stink eye. She is not theirs to gawk at, which is such an asshole thing to say, because she shouldn’t be anybody’s. She is just thirteen, and should be going out on the lake with everyone else this weekend. But I know what she will do, because he has trained her very well. She doesn’t go out; she doesn’t make phone calls or have sleepovers with the other giggly girls in her class. He has her so withdrawn that she can’t see straight. She wants him to be happy. Who the fuck cares if he’s happy?! He’s making her miserable! He is breaking her down until I’m petrified there will be nothing left to break.
No, Charlie won’t do anything out of her norm. Just like him, she has become a creature of habit. At four a.m., before her father rises, she will slide into her favorite shorts and Green Bay Packers tee and totter through the dark over to my place. She will let herself in, climb my stairs, and slide into my bed with me, where we hold one another until Nona calls us for breakfast.
Not long ago, I tried to meet her outside, but the next day she never came. Freaked the shit out of me when I got to the yard in the pitch black of night, and she was nowhere in sight. I thought something terrible had happened to her, so I bolted to her open window and her empty room, calling for her, hoping not to wake him. My gut heaved at the thought he had come for her. I jumped from her window and headed to the garage, where it was darker than sin. She wasn’t there, and I swear I could have cried. I ran for my house, needing to see if I missed her, hoping she was waiting for me in my bed while I was searching. I took the stairs to the porch faster than I ever have in my life, when something caught my eye. There curled up in the corner of my porch steps, in the dark by Nona’s large pot of flowers, was Charlie. She was shivering and so cold to touch, even though the night was warm. I knew right then that I had to let her do her thing, or I would likely lose her.
Nona knows there’s something going on with her, but she puts it down to a father who isn’t there for her. I wish he wasn’t there at all.
The school cafeteria is loud today. I don’t know if it’s always this loud, but it feels louder. I think Charlie feels it too because she is tucking into me. I kiss the top of her head and smell her sweet shampoo. It smells of babies or something. “You okay?”
She glances up at me, and I can see a darkness under her eyes that I haven’t seen before.
“I don’t want to do this anymore,” she mumbles.
I sigh because I don’t want her to have to either. “I know, Charlie.”
“I don’t even want to live anymore.”
I jerk back, for a second I think I misheard her. But as I look into her dark brown eyes I realize how lost they are. She’s giving up on me. “Don’t you dare! Don’t you fucking dare leave me, Charlotte!”
“Don’t call me Charlotte.” She shakes her head and doesn’t stop. “Don’t call me that ever. He calls me that.”
I reach for her and pull her in tight; ignoring the stares we are getting despite our voices being low amongst the noise of the student body. “Sorry. I know he does. I’m sorry. You’re just scaring me. I’m scared, Charlie.”
“I’m scared every day.”
Motherfucker. She breaks my heart. “I know. But you need to hang in there. Come on, let’s skip the rest of the day. I want to show you something.”
&
nbsp; “What?” She tilts her head and looks up at me with those desperately lost eyes; they beg me to save her.
I stand up and gather our untouched lunch, shoving what I can in my bag. “It’s a surprise.”
“You know I hate surprises,” she groans. It’s true; she does, but she needs to feel the elation of a surprise. She needs to feel alive. “Come on. It’s Friday, and your dad will be working all weekend and Nona will be busy with some craft show on Highway 151. We have free rein. Let’s go on a trip.”
“But we never go on trips. We never leave Beaver Dam.”
“All the more reason.” I grab her hand and practically drag her from the cafeteria. She begins to laugh, and I stop as we get to the front quad. “What are you laughing at?”
“Just how do you think we will go on a trip? I’m thirteen; you’re fifteen. Neither of us has a licence.”
“Heard of a bus?”
“Heard of accommodation for the underage where you plan to take me?”
“Damn.”
She laughs again. “Uh-huh.” At least she’s laughing. Her face is brighter, and that in itself is a big something.
“Plan B.” Again I grab hold of her, and I begin to drag her until she starts to keep the same pace down the road and along the tree line to try and keep her cool. I slow down to a walk, and she follows in suit, her breathing hard and fast, along with mine. I never did sports; the school asked me to play every seasonal sport they have, but I would always say no. They train three times a week, Saturday mornings, Tuesday and Thursday afternoons. You can see the dilemma there. It’s like neon. Charlie could watch me practice every day but that third Thursday. If she weren’t where she was supposed to be, it was way worse for her. We learned that lesson the hard way.
There is more than one reason Charlie likes to please her dad; one, because he brainwashed her to, but two, because when he isn’t pleased, he is downright dangerous. She claims she was sick around this time last year; maybe she needed to believe that. She couldn’t get out of bed for a little while and then had three weeks off school. I know what was really wrong with her, though. I could see the bruises high on her arm when her shirt lifted, when I felt her soft skin under my fingers. I saw the one on her neck where I kissed her better. I never left her side while she recovered, and the only time I went to the bathroom was when I knew her dad was out of the house.
She never did tell me what really happened. I wonder to this day if she blocked it out. What I do know is, that Thursday, before returning to school, we crossed a big line that was never recovered. It changed everything within us. We became something lighter to one another and darker to the world.
We get home, hot and sweaty, when Davey meets us on the porch. “It’s not time yet,” he says in alarm. “It’s not time to come home.”
“No. But Charlie needs you to give her a hug, so we rushed home so you can give her one,” I say as I leave Charlie breathless on the porch and race inside to beg Nona to help me with plan B.
I find her in the kitchen cooking biscuits. “Nona.” She gives me the brow, the one that says I’m in for it if I don’t have a damn good reason as to why I’m not a school. “Charlie needs us.”
Nona sighs and wipes her hands on her apron which has pale flowers all over it. It’s her favorite. “I thought this week would be particularly rough on her.”
“What do you mean?”
“Child, it’s the anniversary of her mother’s passing.”
“Holy shit. How can I not know this? I know everything about Charlie... at least I thought I did.” I slump into the stool and cradle my head in my hands. I don’t know what it’s like to lose a mother that way. Mine abandoned us when Davey was born, and I was two.
“Nathan, you can never know everything about that girl. I can see some ache and secrets in her eyes that she will take to the grave, and I prefer you never know them. I hope in time she heals, but this, her mother, this isn’t something you can fix.”
I thought I could. I mean, not fix death, but Charlie. I want to help her. I want her to stay and not give up on me or herself. Yeah, I selfishly need her. Not just for me physically, but my heart needs her, my soul needs her. I don’t know a world without her, and I don’t want to. I want her forever―me and her to the very end.
I have never told Nona any of our secrets. I never told her about Charlie or her dad, but this time it’s bigger than I can carry. We can’t really go and do what I really want to, so this is the next best thing.
“Nona, she needs to know she has something to look forward to. Can you call Mrs. Fisher and ask her if we can go out there today?”
I don’t know what’s tinkering around in her mind right now, if she can see my objective for this little adventure, but she smiles and nods. Then the mumbling to herself begins as she strips herself of her apron and grabs the phone from the wall.
I run back out to the front porch; Davey and Charlie are sitting on the front steps in silence, his arm wrapped around her shoulder. I don’t think I’ve seen such a beautiful sight. It sounds pussy, but it’s true. She loves Davey for who he is, nothing else, and that’s all I can ask. I see red… so much red when people say shit about him. Sure he’s different, but not where it matters.
“Nona is getting the okay, but I’m betting it’s a sure thing, so saddle up.”
They both turn and stand, Davey grinning from ear to ear and Charlie sceptical.
“Where are you taking us?” she asks.
“Yeah, where, Nathan?” Davey chimes in. The big guy is busting.
“It’s a secret. Just load up in the car will ya? Jesus.” I chuckle as Davey bolts down the stairs and heads for Nona’s Caddy. But true to form, Charlie is still standing there, pursing her lips and eyeballing me. “I’m not gonna tell, so suck it up, princess, and get in the damn car.”
She still stands there, challenging me. Okay then, challenge accepted. I leap toward her and laugh so hard when she screams and bounds from the porch, bolting for the car. Nonetheless, I’m faster; I always have been. When she looks over her shoulder, it’s already too late, and I have her off the ground. She’s screaming to the heavens, but it’s the good kind, the happy kind, and that I would gladly hear every minute of the day. Charlie’s thrashing her legs around like crazy. Although the girl is small, it makes it damn hard to hold her, that and all her hair is in my face. I can’t see a damn thing.
“All right you two, get in the car if you want to go to―”
“No!” I shout at Nona, who freezes as I put a now-silent Charlie to the ground. “Don’t tell them. I want it to be a secret.”
“They’re going to know as soon as we’re on the road,” Nona says, exasperatedly. She opens the driver’s side door and hands Davey her purse. “Well, get in then. We don’t have all day; I have lots of preparation ahead of me for tomorrow’s market. As for you, Nathan, next time, it would be respectful to give people a little more notice than five minutes.”
“Sorry, Nona,” I say sheepishly, but I know she really doesn’t mind, and I would do it again for Charlie in a heartbeat.
“Nate, I feel much better; we can just hang here. I don’t want to put Nona out.”
I take her shoulders in my hands and shake her just a tiny bit. “Charlie, we both need this.”
She chews her inner lip and nods. I know she would never deny me. It was an asshole move, I guess, but I’d do anything to bring her out of this funk. I just need her to stay above the surface until we are old enough to run away and survive, or at the very least, fight against her dad.
We arrive at Mrs, Fisher’s farm, and from the moment we hit the old dirt road there is a boom of voices in the confines of the car. Davey is jumping in his seat and talking about the Beavers and their kittens; Nona is doing the “I told you so,” and I’m chuckling as Charlie takes my hand in hers and squeezes it tight. She knows me, and I think she knows what this visit to the small sanctuary is about.
Davey heads straight for the nursery where Mrs Fisher
stands with a kitten in her arms. Nona calls for him to slow down, while I take Charlie to the other side of the fences. That’s where Mrs Fisher keeps the injured wildlife that will one day be able to return to the wild. This is my favorite spot of all. It’s been almost a year since I’ve been here, and it was only for a few minutes while Nona and Mrs. Fisher gossiped and swapped jams. I took her round to the aviary, recalling when Mrs Fisher found me here that day. She told me about her work with the eagle and other birds, her work and hopes for them.
Here is where we would find the spirit of withstanding against the odds.
Once again the cage held an injured animal in need of help. Charlie let my hand go as she approached the mesh that keeps the large, majestic bird in. The bald eagle has a large bandage around its wing. It was segregated from the main aviary; it’s much smaller so it wouldn’t attempt to fly, I suspect.
“It looks so sad.” Charlie sighs against the cage and I close the distance, stroking her back as I watch her study the broken bird, which eyes us warily.
“Yeah, but it won’t be forever. That’s the whole point.”
She looks at me and then back at the bird again, trying to see what I see. She sees why I brought her to the rescue sanctuary for injured animals, but she doesn’t quite get the moral I’m trying to teach her.
“You see the sadness, the pain, and that someone like Mrs Fisher has rescued them and takes care of them, but that isn’t what I want you to see or get from this. What I want you to see is that there is room to heal, and soar, and live your life beyond the wounds you carry around inside of you. I want you to recover and be strong. I want you to be the ruler of the kingdom that is your life and roar like a tiger I know is in you. I want you to never, ever back down to anyone again.”
“Roar like a tiger?”
“I wanted to take you to the zoo, but your common sense burst that bubble.”
“I want to roar, Nate,” she whispers in a breath.
“You will!” If it’s the last thing in this life I will see happen, it is that.