by Keary Taylor
Part of my everyday routine was to check on Sal. She was reading one of the books I had bought her and she seemed to be near the end of it. She wouldn’t say much, just a few mumbles and nods when I asked her questions. She was rather unsociable the last few days. But that was normal for Sal. She seemed to have cycles of either being a nonstop chatter box or almost completely mute. I wasn’t going to pressure her. She’d already been through enough in her life; I wasn’t going to add any stress.
I returned to my apartment and sat back at the table. Knowing I was only trying to pass the time until dinner, I pulled my laptop out and pulled my email up. There wasn’t much in there as I didn’t keep in touch with the very few friends I had in high school. I didn’t belong to any social networking sites for the same reason. Most of the messages in my inbox were junk, but one caught my attention. It was the monthly newsletter from Stanford that I still continued to get, despite the fact that I had never actually made it to the university.
Having nothing else to do, I clicked on the message. I skimmed it quickly, my eyes freezing on a short announcement half way through it. The notice stated that one Jason Walker would begin teaching psychology in the summer. I knew that name all too well.
I had run away from home when I was sixteen and found myself in central California. I lied about my age to get an apartment, found a job, and learned to grow up very fast. Somehow I managed to stay in school too. Soon after I turned eighteen, in my senior year of high school, I met Jason. He was handsome and charming. He was older than I was, 24 and already almost finished with his masters. But neither of us seemed to care about the age difference. He looked younger than he really was; I looked slightly older, so people never really asked questions.
Jason was attentive and did not seem to mind my strange idioms. He was a great listener and I told him everything about myself. He told me he loved me often, and I did the same. I had even allowed myself to think of the possibility that we might end up married at the end of the year.
After six months of the happiest days of my life, the world exploded.
“Hey,” I said with a smile as I placed a quick kiss on Jason’s cheek. He only gave me a stiff smile and set his backpack on the grass. I tried not to worry about the crease in his forehead that only made an appearance when he was worked up, or the way he kept his distance from me.
The California air was warm, perfect for this time of year. I had survived graduation three weeks earlier. I was proud of myself for making it through all four years. Working a full time job to support myself wasn’t easy, and when you add to that the pressure of finals and keeping up a solid 3.8 GPA, well, it had been hard. But I had done it. Jason had been in the stands cheering me on as I received my diploma.
“Do you want to go to the club tonight?” I asked, trying to lighten the mood that was already darkening, despite the fact that he hadn’t said anything yet.
Jason looked at the ground, his lips pursed together in a tight line. His jaw was set hard and he seemed to be considering his words.
“I can’t do this anymore Jessica,” he finally said. He couldn’t even meet my eyes. “I can’t handle it anymore. It’s just not normal. They aren’t real.”
“Jason,” I whispered, my brow furrowing with the hurt that was only going to get ten times worse over the next few minutes.
“This is what I’m going to be doing, Jess,” he said as he finally turned hard eyes on me. “I’m a psychology major for crying out loud! I should be able to spot when someone can’t handle reality when I see it. I can’t do this anymore. Good-bye, Jessica.”
And with that he picked up his backpack and walked out of my life forever.
It was as harsh and dry as that.
I would never attend Stanford despite my acceptance.
Without even really realizing what I was doing, I had packed my few things and driven aimlessly north and ended up in Washington, almost to Canada. I spotted the lake to the west of the freeway and thought it was one of the most beautiful places I had ever seen. It looked so peaceful, a feeling I was desperate for. After driving to the west side of it I saw the sign in front of the house advertising the need for a house sitter. I secured the job the next day and had been there ever since.
With a deep sigh I deleted the message. I had gotten over Jason long ago. It had been difficult but I realized that someone who was going to throw me away like that wasn’t worth pining away after.
I pulled open the search engine and typed in Jasper Wood’s name again. The obituary popped up in less than a second. There wasn’t much there. He was forty-eight, had worked at a mill for years and did not seem to be leaving any family behind. I retrieved my leather bound notebook and transcribed his name as well as Crystal Daniel’s onto the page. I did not have a reason for doing this, but I had done it since I realized the names I stood trial for were real people. I suppose it seemed barbaric to simply forget them, no matter how the deeds of their lives haunted me.