by Amy Reece
The sight that met my eyes was horrifying and is now forever, unfortunately, burned into my memory: Veronica half-lying on a desk in the weight room office, nearly unconscious, one eye completely swollen shut, blood dripping from her nose and mouth. Her jeans and underwear were pulled down around her ankles. Standing over her, hands on his open belt buckle, was Coach Trevino, the young, muscular boys wrestling coach and weight trainer. I’ve only ever seen him a few times before; he apparently spends the vast majority of his time in the gym and its environs—a place I had never had much reason to visit until recently. I had heard girls giggling about how good-looking he was, but I had always thought he seemed rough and crude somehow. Not my type at all. He certainly wasn’t good-looking right now. The look that was frozen on his face as I threw open the door was one of complete and abject rage. He was obviously out of control, having severely beat Veronica and was now about to inflict even more suffering and humiliation by raping her. Her head rolled toward me, her one good eye widening with surprise.
“Help me.” It was no more than a whisper.
“Get the fuck out of here!” Coach Trevino screamed.
I should have been terrified; I was, I know I must have been. But a cold, steely calm crept over my entire being and I slowly advanced toward the desk. “Get away from her.” I didn’t even raise my voice.
I have never seen anyone in a killer rage before; I devoutly hope never to again. He roared—I can’t think of any other way to describe it—and launched himself at me, his belt dangling and the top of his pants undone. I turned to run, hoping at least to get him away from Veronica. He slammed me up against the door before I could even get it open, knocking the breath completely out of me. He grabbed me by the back of the neck and the hair and lifted me up to his eye level. My 5’1”, 100 lb. body was not much of an obstacle for him.
“You’re dead!” he screamed. I believed him. He slammed me into the glass trophy case beside the door. I heard and felt the shatter of glass, much of it imbedding itself into the back of my head. I slid down the broken front of the case into a pile of glass shards, now mixed liberally with my blood. I know I must have screamed, but I can’t remember. He stood over me, breathing heavily. When he saw I was still conscious, not quite dead, he reared his foot back, preparing to deliver what probably would have been a fatal kick to my head. At the last second, Veronica, who had managed to pull herself up from the desk, hit him in the back with a folding chair. That would bring most people down, but he was in such a rage—hyped up on something?—that it merely distracted him. She saved my life, but at great cost to her own. He was distracted, but became even more violent. He turned on her with a scream and smashed his fist into her head. She fell, unconscious, as he began viciously kicking her in the stomach and ribs. She would be dead in seconds, if she weren’t already. With my last vestiges of strength and consciousness, I crawled over to a large trophy that was now lying close to me, picked it up, and with enormous effort, smashed the heavy marble base into the back of his head. I don’t think I will ever forget the sound of that moment: the thunk of the solid trophy base connecting with the hard flesh at the back of his skull. I wasn’t even able to tell if it knocked him out, or if he was still standing. I fell into a heap of blood and glass, consciousness finally, mercifully slipping away.
***
When I awoke, it was to a dark room, antiseptic smells, and a beeping sound. There was none of that ‘where am I?’ stuff that you always see in movies. I knew exactly where I was and I was so glad to be there that I felt tears start to build. I sort of thought I might be waking up somewhere else, if you know what I mean. Or, rather, not waking up at all. I slowly turned my head, sucking in my breath at the pain, and saw Jack’s beloved face; he was slumped in an armchair next to my bed. I realized he was holding my hand, loosely, through the bed rails. He had fallen asleep. He looked rough; dark stubble covered the lower half of his jaw, his hair looked as if he had run his hands through it repeatedly. He looked like he was wearing scrubs, which I couldn’t figure out. I stared at him, loving that I still could, for a moment before I squeezed his hand gently.
“Jack,” I whispered, scratchily.
He woke up immediately. “Ally. Oh, God.” He leaned over me, looking intently at my face, trying to determine if I was really with him or not. “Jesus, Ally. I was so scared.” A tear threatened to escape his eye and my heart split in two.
“Jack,” I whispered again. He leaned in and kissed me so, so softly, on my lips. “Tell me,” I insisted as he pulled back. “Veronica.” I feared what he would say.
His eyes clouded. “She’s alive. Barely. She’s in ICU. That bastard nearly killed her. She’s in really bad shape.”
“The baby?” I whispered. He shook his head. I didn’t even know how to feel about it or how to process this. “What about…him? Did I…?” I couldn’t find the words.
He again shook his head. “No. You fractured his skull, but he’ll live, unfortunately,” he said bitterly.
I couldn’t help the sob that escaped. Jack held me carefully. “Shh. It’s all right, Ally. It’s okay now. It’s over.” He sat back. “I need to text your mom. I sent them downstairs for coffee, but I had to swear to text immediately if you woke up. Tara’s here too.”
It turned out that I had a pretty bad concussion and 17 stitches in the back of my head, along with a lovely shaved spot. Hats were going to be part of my daily wardrobe for the foreseeable future, and it would be a while before I could shampoo. Gross. The doctors kept me overnight for observation, but I was allowed to go home the next day, as long as I spent it resting.
Veronica was not nearly as fortunate. She was in a coma, mostly drug-induced, to help her heal. She had to have surgery to repair internal damage done by the vicious kicks, including a torn uterus. They also had to remove her spleen. It was unclear whether or not she would ever be able to bear children because the damage was so severe. She had also suffered a severe concussion from Coach Trevino’s fist.
Coach Trevino, the rat bastard who did this, was fine. Isn’t it always the way? He had to have a few stitches and had a minor skull fracture. He was currently being held without bail in the Bernalillo County Metropolitan Detention Center awaiting trial for multiple counts of rape and attempted murder. I should have hit him harder. I don’t mean I wish I had killed him or anything. I would never want to actually take a life if I could avoid it; I think it’s unfair that out of the three of us, he suffered the least damage. He also wasn’t talking; he had lawyered-up immediately. I’ve always wanted to say that. We would have to wait until Veronica was awake to find out what had happened, why she had ever gotten involved with him, and why she had not told anyone he had raped her.
Grams and my mom were amazing when I got home, waiting on me hand and foot, bringing me tea, juice, and putting DVDs in for me. My head hurt too much to read. It actually hurt too much to even enjoy watching movies for long. The doctor had given me some hefty Tylenol that didn’t do much for the pain. All I wanted to do was sleep; I could barely stay awake long enough eat. I hoped I would start to feel better soon so I could enjoy milking this for all its worth. Both Mom and Grams had tried to get me to talk about what had happened in the office with Veronica and the coach, but I couldn’t bring myself to talk about it to anyone. I was trying hard not to even think about it. I know they were both worried sick about my emotional health as much as my physical health.
Jack came by after school; he looked worse than I felt. I had finally been able to persuade him to leave the hospital around 5 a.m. so he could at least shower and change before going to school. He couldn’t afford to stay home because of the physics review and we were planning to go over his notes this evening. I was hoping to be allowed to return to school the next day to take my finals, but was starting to worry that my head would still be hurting too badly. He hadn’t shaved and looked ruggedly handsome, yet completely exhausted. I tried to convince him to go home and get some sleep, but he wouldn’t listen.
“Let me sit with you for a little while. I need to hold you. Then I’ll go.” He sank into a corner of the couch. I nestled into his arms and pulled the blanket over both of us. We were asleep in seconds. We awoke hours later to the delicious smell of lasagna wafting out of the kitchen. Grams served dinner on trays in the living room while I finally got a chance to ask Jack about the details of what happened the previous afternoon. How did I get to the hospital? Who found us? I had no memory of those events, only the horror leading up to them.
“When I got your text message, I was finishing up at the shop and decided to surprise you by picking you up at school. I couldn’t find you anywhere and you weren’t answering your phone. I was literally running all over that damn school, looking for you, when a janitor mentioned he had seen a redheaded girl by the gym. Ally, sweetheart, why didn’t you call me? Or the police?”
“I don’t know, Jack. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, Grams. I had a vision and it kept playing over and over in my head. I couldn’t think of anything else except finding Veronica and helping her. It was stupid.” I buried my face against his chest.
“No, Ally,” Grams said. “It was brave. Perhaps not wise, but you saved that girl’s life. I’m very proud of you.”
“Your Grams showed up about the same time I did. She knew you were in trouble. We both started frantically searching for you. When I opened that door, and saw you lying on the floor in all that blood and glass…I don’t know. I think I went a little crazy. I thought you were dead. I thought I’d lost you.” He closed his eyes, leaned his head back on the couch and sighed deeply.
I tried to remember any part of what he was telling me, but I couldn’t. What I did remember was another vision, the vision I had of Veronica with all the blood and pain, the one in which I couldn’t tell if it was Veronica or myself that was being hurt. The vision that I had decided to keep from Cassie.
“Jack!” I clutched his hand, gasping. “The vision! It was the vision!”
So, of course I had to tell Grams about it. She was concerned and disturbed that I hadn’t told anyone, especially Cassie. “Why, Ally? What were you afraid of?”
“I don’t know, Grams. I feel like Cassie is hiding something, keeping something important from me. I’m sorry, I just—”
“Look, Mrs. Moran, I don’t think now is the time to go into all of this,” Jack interrupted, pulling me back into his arms, kissing the top of my head. “Ally’s not up to it. Why don’t you finish telling Ally what happened yesterday so she can get back to resting?”
Wow. I have never seen anyone stand up to her like that. She looked at him intently for a moment before nodding and then continuing. “Once we had ascertained that you were alive, I called the police and found something to tie up that horrible man’s hands with in case he woke up. I couldn’t get Jack to leave your side. He sat there, holding you, getting absolutely covered in your blood, until the paramedics came. I don’t think I’ll ever forget that sight as long as I live.” She suddenly let out an involuntary sob.
Poor Grams! This had been really hard on her and Mom. I got up and went over and put my arms around her, hugging her from behind. “I love you, Grams.”
She sniffed and cleared her throat. “Well, anyway. Your mother met us at the hospital and we sat with poor Jack while they stitched your head. We were all very concerned when you didn’t wake for so long. I couldn’t budge Jack out of your room. Your mother, Tara, and I had just gone down to get some coffee when you woke up.” She paused to blow her nose.
“So that’s why you were wearing scrubs when I woke up, huh? You got my blood all over your clothes. God, Jack, I am so sorry.” And I kissed him right there in front of Grams. “I love you, you know,” I whispered.
“I know,” he whispered back and kissed me.
“I don’t understand why this all happened,” I said as I disengaged from Jack. “Why would Veronica be involved with Coach Trevino? And why did she call him ‘Nick’ in my visions? His name is Jonathan. I don’t understand.” I noticed a look, some sort of unspoken communication passing between Grams and Jack. “What? What are you guys not telling me?”
“Tell her, Jack,” said Grams.
“I don’t think she needs to hear it all right now. She needs to rest.”
I sat up and turned to look in his face. “I’m fine, Jack. Please tell me what you know.”
He sighed. “All right. It’s not that much, actually, since Trevino’s not talking. While the cops were searching his office, they found a large stash of steroids. It looks like he was selling them to some of the students. At least that’s what I’m guessing from the questions I was asked by the cops. There were cops all over school today. They even had drug dogs, so I think they might be looking for more than steroids. Ally, you may have busted a drug ring at school.”
There were really no more details he could share with me, so after a few more questions I curled up next to Jack while he got his notes out for the review and started going over them with me. I couldn’t keep my eyes open and fell asleep within a few minutes. I woke up as Jack was carrying me to bed, which would have been much more exciting in another context.
“Jack, I can walk. You don’t have to carry me.”
“Shh. Let me. It’s the first time I’ve felt useful in days.” He laid me on my bed, tucked the comforter up around my chin, kissed me, and turned to go. I caught his hand.
“Stay with me, please? Just until I fall asleep.”
He lay down next to me, on top of the comforter, and pulled me into his arms. “Go to sleep, querida. I love you.” His warmth and nearness helped me fall into a mercifully dreamless sleep.
It turned out that I didn’t go to school the next day. My head was still killing me, and the school called to say my teachers had all decided to give me a special exclusion from my finals. I would get the current grade I had in the class. Since they were all A’s and B’s, I graciously accepted their offer and went back to sleep. All I wanted to do was sleep. When I was asleep I could forget.
***
Cassie came over later that afternoon to check on me. I’m sure she was wondering if I would be able to travel on Saturday.
“Ally, honey, we need to talk. I know you’re hurting and I know you’re not trusting me much right now.”
“I can’t believe Grams told you.”
“I’m glad she did.” Cassie reached over and took my hand. “I’m so sorry I’ve been so secretive, sweetheart. I’m not really trying to keep secrets.” At my disbelieving look, she held up her hand. “Hear me out. Fine, so maybe I have been keeping secrets, but for a good reason, and never to hurt you. Ally, I didn’t want to tell you too much too soon, especially before we really know anything.”
I looked at her for several moments before sighing in resignation. It was too exhausting to stay angry; I simply didn’t have the energy for it. “Okay, Cassie, but no more secrets, huh? I need you to be honest from now on. I can handle it.”
“Deal, as far as it’s up to me. This trip to Galway will make so many things clear. Things I can’t explain right now.”
I simply nodded, too tired to do anything else. I lay my head back down on the arm of the sofa and closed my eyes.
“Ally, what you went through was truly horrifying, but you can’t shut yourself away like this. You need to talk about it, to process it, so you can begin to deal with it, to begin to heal.”
“Cassie, I don’t even know how to feel about it. Maybe we should leave the counseling to Grams. When I start to think about it, to remember, I can’t handle it.”
“Honey, I know. You saw some things that no one should have to see, much less a 17-year-old girl. I can help, Ally. You can share what you saw with me through our gifts. I can help you bear this burden, just a little bit, until you have had some time to come to terms with it.” She held out her hands to me.
“Cassie, why should you have to see it, or experience it? It was so awful—”
“Because that’s what Seer
s do to help each other, if we can. Please, Ally. Let me help.”
So I sat up and put my hands in hers and remembered; I remembered the horrible, foul words Coach Trevino was shouting at Veronica. I remembered her, lying half-nude across his desk, begging me to help her. I remembered him undoing his pants, preparing to violate her once again. I couldn’t catch my breath; it felt like I was hyperventilating as the scenes ran through my brain over and over. I felt Cassie squeeze my hands; I knew she was seeing what I saw. My breathing started to calm down. It wasn’t that I was no longer seeing the memories; they were no less vivid. I can’t really explain—it sounds selfish to say that knowing Cassie saw it too, made it easier for me to bear. I didn’t like that about myself. Who would wish these memories on anyone?
“No, Ally. It’s not selfish. It’s human. We are made to bear each other’s burdens. Especially for those we love.” She set my hands in my lap and broke the connection. Tears were running down her face. “It is a horrible memory and I don’t relish having it in my mind, but I’m so glad I could help you. It’s my gift and I must use it. Just like you must use your gift. You can’t run away from it.”
“I don’t think I deserve this gift, Cassie,” I said in a small voice.
“What are you talking about? It’s not a matter of deserving.”
“But why couldn’t I help Veronica before she got hurt so badly? I tried so many times.” Now the tears were running down my face as I silently wept—wept for myself for failing to help Veronica before she was attacked so violently, wept for Veronica who would never be the same after all of this, and wept for that tiny life that was over before it had a chance to begin.