by Kipjo Ewers
“Uh, hello,” he cleared his throat. “How are you doing today?”
Samantha looked at Ms. Cooper before responding.
“I am okay.”
“That’s good,” he nodded.
Silence filled the room again as Fred searched for something to say.
“Please excuse me,” he started again. “I honestly did not prepare for this. I don’t know what to say to you, even after all this time.”
Samantha sadly nodded turning her gaze to the floor. Fred reached over grabbing the doll’s hand holding it.
“Why don’t we start with the elephant in the room?”
Samantha raised her eyes again unsure how to react to the sight.
“I met my wife Mary in college,” he began. “We got into an argument over a library book on campus. It was the last edition the library had, and we were both doing the same report. It was on Shakespeare’s ‘Much Ado About Nothing.’ We didn’t have the technology yet where you could just download and read it on a tablet.
It got pretty nasty. In the end, I gave Mary the book and walked away. I thought it was the last I would see of her. Three weeks later I ran into her one night during Rush Week on our campus, and without going into any more detail, we were making out by the end of the evening.
We dated through college and ended up moving in with each other after college, bought a tiny studio in Venice Beach. The first night we settled in, she made me promise two things. Never propose marriage to her until I was sure I was ready for forever with her. And if I didn’t want to be with her anymore, care about her enough, to be honest, and tell her. She said sometimes you’re just supposed to meet and love people for a little while, and then move on. It doesn’t diminish the love; it just meant it wasn’t intended to be for forever. The love gets reduced when you introduce a lie to it.
Eight years later, and three different apartments I finally proposed marriage. I already knew I wanted to marry her after our first year, but I wanted Mary to both have the wedding she always wanted, and I didn’t want her to want for anything. I wanted forever to be forever, and I didn’t want us to start out our married life with any regrets like debt. I also wanted her to pursue her real passion of being a writer because she was awesome at it.”
“I read both of her books …twice.” Samantha softly said.
“Really?” He smiled. “Which one did you like?”
“‘The Dragon Princess’ is my favorite,” she half smiled. “I also liked ‘Stop Me If You Heard This’ although it was kind of scary.”
“That was actually booked one of a series she was working on.”
“Oh,” Samantha remorsefully lowered her head.
“So, without going any further around the world,” Fred said with a cracked voice as he nervously squeezed the doll’s hand. “For the past nine years …I never slept in a bed by myself. It’s a sad and terrifying experience I wouldn’t wish on anyone. And I did all of the right things to try and cope. Psychiatrists, drugs, and prayer …nothing seemed to work.
So, I bought this doll to try and fill that missing spot in my bed …that you carelessly took for me. I take her almost everywhere with me because I promised my wife …when I was ready to marry her …it would be for forever, and I meant it. So now, I can’t see anyone else in my bed …I can’t see anyone else …holding my hand …and it hurts.”
Fred used his free hand to muffle his cries as his tears fell. It became worse as he felt her subtly squeeze his hand back for comfort. Samantha Bear sat quietly watching Fred unravel before her. She answered him with thick golf ball tears that slowly ran down her face.
“I’m sorry, this was much easier in my head,” Fred said while attempting to pull himself together. “I imaged …”
“Mr. Garrett,” Samantha gently held a hand up. “May I say something to you please?”
“Sure,” Fred nodded.
“I didn’t agree to meet with you because I wanted you to help me get my time shortened,” She shook her head. “I wanted to meet you, and tell you …how sorry I am.”
She covered her mouth to stop herself from crying to get through what she wanted to say to him. She wiped away a bit of the excess tears that would not stop falling.
“My parents told me not to text and drive, and I did it anyway.” She whimpered. “They told me that I could hurt myself or kill someone …and I didn’t listen. I thought I knew it all.
During the trial, I kept asking myself why this was happening to me, that I am a good person. I made a bunch of excuses to myself that it wasn’t my fault. I wasn’t thinking about what I did …I was just scared and wanted to go home.”
She nervously glanced at the doll, then back at him before she uttered her next words.
“And then,” her lips trembled. “I started seeing her.”
It brought a contorted sneer onto Fred’s face causing him to lean forward a bit.
“Started seeing who?”
“You’re …wife,” she answered with a squealing voice.
The second she said it, Fred could feel Mary’s grip increased on his hand confirming her truth.
“Okay Samantha,” Ms. Cooper sighed stepping in. “We discussed this remember? You can’t …”
“She came to me two weeks after I came here!” Samantha blurted out while ignoring her attorney. “At first she’d stand in the corner of my room at night looking at me, I thought she was going to hurt me or something! But she was sad, sometimes crying.”
“Samantha enough!” Ms. Cooper forcefully reprimanded her.
“Samantha!”
The second warning came from her angered and distraught father finally quieting her.
“Mr. Garrett, I deeply apologize for this,” Ms. Cooper turned to him. “My client is not …”
“Let her speak.” Fred came to Samantha’s defense. “Please …let her speak. I want to hear this. Please. ”
Fred turned his eye contact back toward her giving her permission to continue.
“And every night when I close my eyes to sleep, I’d see that day over and over again,” Samantha continued with a raspy voice of pain while tears blinded her eyes. “I couldn’t get it out of my head, and no matter how many ways I played it, no mattered how I tried to justify it …it was my entire fault. It became so much …I couldn’t take it, so I found a way sneak plastic knife out of the cafeteria …and I sharpened it so that I could slit my wrists …but just before I could do it …she stopped me. She knocked the knife out of my hand, and then I could feel her all around me …holding me …singing to me. After all, I did to her …and you. ”
She lowered her head a bit unable to look him in the eyes due to shame.
“I thought she wanted revenge …a life for a life. But that’s not what she wanted …all she wanted was for me to be sorry for what I did. I was too wrapped up in feeling sorry for myself that I didn’t think about what I did, or who I hurt until I came here. Until I read her books …until I met her. I killed your wife …I did that. I have to pay for my crime. I just wanted the chance to say to you face to face, that I am so sorry for what I did to the both of you.”
The strength finally went out of Samantha’s back and neck as she bent over blubbering before him.
“I’m sorry …I’m so sorry …oh god …I’m so sorry …”
Fred looked down himself at the floor as he processed what he just heard.
“I forgive you.”
It flowed out of his mouth without even thought of it.
His eyes welled up as he choked on his words.
“I forgive you for what you did …to us. And I’m not just doing it for you. My wife …My Mary …would want me to live, to keep moving forward. And I can’t do that if I let this hatred for you remain in my heart.
I will still send a letter to Judge Stewart petitioning to place you on probation and community service where you can speak about the consequences of texting and driving. Look at me please.”
Samantha found the strength to raise her head a
gain to gaze sadly into his eyes.
“I’m counting on you, to make sure …that this never happens to anyone else …okay?”
“I will,” Samantha meekly nodded. “I promise.”
“I got one more question to ask,” Fred shifted in his seat.
He leaned forward a bit, wrestling with how to ask it, more afraid of the answer he would get.
“What was so damn important, that you couldn’t wait until you pulled over?”
Reluctance was written all over Samantha’s face to answer his question. It was a mixture of embarrassment and fear that he might lose it, leap out of his chair, and pummel her despite her parents, lawyer, and the correction officers standing guard.
“It was …a puppy …” She meekly got out.
“A puppy?”
“It was a stupid puppy …licking on an ice cream, and getting brain freeze.”
The air went out of Fred as he leaned back in his seat taking in the revelation of what caused Mary’s death.
“Huh …” He got out. “That’s the one where it looks like a white plush teddy bear right? It had a stuck look on its face. I believe I’ve seen that one.”
A spaced-out Fred just sat there.
Samantha lost strength again as she hobbled over and began to bawl. Ms. Cooper unable to keep her composure any longer turned away swatting tears from her eyes, while Samantha’s mother bitterly wept as well. Samantha’s father did break down. The tears slowly flowing from his eyes revealed his remorse and embarrassment. Holding his wife’s hand, he bowed his head unable to look into Fred’s soulless gaze that finally met his.
“Right,” Fred cleared his throat. “I think it’s time for us to go …yeah, …it’s time for us to go.”
Fred’s entire world went blank after that. He did not remember getting up and wheeling Mary out of the juvenile detention center, but he did it. He did not remember loading her and her wheel chair into the Jeep, but he did that was well. All that time, he ignored his phone and watch buzzing uncontrollably. It eventually stopped as they sat in morbid silence in the parking lot of the facility.
She timidly reached for him, but he pulled away.
“Don’t touch me.” Fred forcefully whispered.
She retracted her touch and sadly gazed down at her lap.
“Why can she see you, and I can’t?” Fred asked with a trembling lower jaw.
“I don’t know why.” she earnestly shook her head. “Children and certain people are just able to.”
“Do me a favor,” Fred ground his teeth. “When the time comes …and you see God …tell Him I fucking hate Him.”
He could feel her gaze slowly turn to him, as tears as thick as blood poured from his eyes.
“I hate Him …I fucking hate Him,” he began to rant and tremble. “Selfish, self-righteous prick! He makes love, and watches us break when it’s destroyed! He’s a fucking sadist! He said death was final! He said it was final! So how come His Son got to bring Lazarus back? Huh? Why does He get to break His own fucking rules?! Why can’t He give you back to me then? Huh? When you see Him, ask Him, ask Him why He couldn’t give you back to me?! What did we ever do …to deserve this …to be torn apart from one another?! Fuck Him!”
Fred roared as he violently hammered the steering wheeling of the Jeep. He became hysterical and began to hyperventilate.
“This was supposed to make it better! This was meant to make me feel better! But it didn’t! It didn’t make anything better! I want you back …I …I want you back! Tell Him to give you back to me! Tell Him I’ll do whatever He wants … just give you back to me …”
Fred fell onto the steering wheel sobbing. The temperature within the vehicle became cold frosting up the windows in the middle of summer as a haunting wail vibrated the windows. He heard the click of her seatbelt and felt her move placing her hand on his back caressing it.
She helped him from the steering wheel into her embrace. It only made him cry harder and the wails louder. Neither of them cared what the outside world saw or thought. Their world was too broken for either to care.
CHAPTER 13
Days after Fred and Mary’s visit with Samantha Bear, they both fell into a severe rut. Once again Fred began to retreat into himself, while Mary fell into a mundane routine.
In the morning, she’d made his breakfast and lunch; she’d stop seeing him to the door with a kiss as she sat either at her computer surfing the web or on the daybed staring out the window.
When he returned home, she’d have dinner ready, and the house cleaned from top to bottom. She no longer sat with him at the table as she either retreated to her computer or the couch spacing out to television.
When he tried to help, by either washing the dishes or doing some housework, she’d lay into him, and order for him to back off so she could do it. It became apparent that she needed physical activities to keep her distracted.
For Fred, his concentration was gone. On two different occasions, he spaced out on the road only for the vehicle’s anti-rear fender bender system to save him from a rear end accident.
Most days he sat in his office, barely answering emails and sending his calls to voicemail. He sat sifting through pictures on his phone of better days. He was tuned out during meetings retreating into his head. He and Mary stopped speaking during the day, and they barely spoke to one another when he got home.
A part of him resented her for forcing him to go and seek out Samantha Bear. In his eyes, they were happy the way things were. It was also clear to Fred that Mary was resentful because she could not pass on. The doll was nothing more than a shell. Even though she felt some sensations when she touched souls with Fred, she could not physically feel. She could not smell, could not taste, and could not eat. She was in another world that sat right next to the world of the living, forever reminding her of what she lost.
One day, Fred called out of work claiming he was suffering from food poisoning.
Mary allowed him to lie and stay home. For most of the morning, he remained in bed while she sat outside surfing the web and watching YouTube videos.
By mid-morning, Fred ventured into the living room. They sat in silence as Mary moved to the daybed, while Fred sat on the couch, answering e-mails or playing on his tablet.
Around early afternoon, Fred had set his tablet down and made his way over to the daybed. Without a word, she scooted over giving him space to slide in behind her. As the afternoon sun shined on them through the window, she finally turned around nuzzling next to him using a finger to trace on his chest, while he played with strands of her hair.
Fifteen minutes later, her head raised as her eyes widened.
“What is it?” He asked.
“Get dressed. I want us to visit my grave,” Mary requested. “Now please.”
Her request did not make Fred happy in the least bit, especially after the emotionally draining couple of days they had together.
“Why would you want to go there?”
“I just want to see it one final time, with you.” She answered. “Please.”
“Alright,” he huffed. “Go change …I’ll get…”
“I’d like us to go without the doll body. Please.”
˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜
It was a quiet morbid drive to the cemetery; Fred was uncomfortable the whole way there. He had only visited her grave site twice since she was laid to rest. It didn’t help that she didn’t want to take her doll body with her. He had become very much use to it being near him, a physical reminder of her presence. During the drive, his mind wondered back to the day of the funeral.
He didn’t sleep that whole night. Around seven that morning, he got up, cleaned himself up, and dressed. He waited until Veronica and Hank picked him up at eight. He said very little to them and was a zombie during the entire service.
His speech at her funeral was brief, mostly thanking everyone for attending and showing their love and support. He
was the lead pallbearer along with Barney, one of her uncles, and three cousins.
Fred remained emotionless during the ride past their home to the cemetery. It was so bad; Veronica became extremely concerned.
He stayed in that state all the way up until the casket lowered into the ground.
“No …” he uttered. “No … bring it back up. Please …bring it back up.”