“No, I know you’re ignorant. Did you get that social security number yet?”
“My mom hasn’t returned my call yet. We don’t really talk much these days.”
“Hmm.”
“What?”
“You’re a liar.”
“What? We don’t. Whatever. Are we done here?” I asked, standing. We didn’t need to rehash that. I needed time to think about what I’d already told him.
“We were never started. Go, you’re free to come and go as you please.”
“Just not after dark,” I corrected with smartass tone.
“Exactly.”
“Whatever. Can I use your computer?”
Blake nodded, sipping his drink and eyeing me over the brim of his whisky glass.
Sitting at his desk, I logged into my school dashboard and began reading the assignment that would take all of an hour to do. I just needed to stay focused long enough to do it. My mind had a hard time with that these days. I took a black pen from the leather cup and drew one straight line. Time stood still while I read about the rise and fall of the Berlin wall. I’d managed to create a quill, a lion’s head, a crooked lined, half a heart, and an open book.
“I bet you go through a lot of ink. You could just have it tattooed,” Blake suggested from the door. I sat straight up and swiped away a tear I hadn’t realized was falling. My arm slammed to my side and I glared daggers through his head.
“You said I could use your computer.”
“You can, it’s fine,” he surrendered with raised hands, “I was only commenting on the artwork you draw on your arm. You could just get it tattooed.”
“I will when it’s perfect,” I sadly said, turning my eyes to the computer screen. I closed out of everything on his desktop and deleted the history.
My stomach felt like it did the day she died. Was this something I had to get used to? Something that showed up every night once I was alone with my thoughts? I would have never guessed that this little kid would help so much with the pain. No matter how guilty I felt when I smiled, it was impossible not to do it around this kid. Pea was funny as shit and I loved her company. It was this, the quiet time of day that I began to dread.
Crawling in my bed, I chose to read about the rise and fall of the Berlin Wall. I had a twentieth century word essay to turn in by the end of the week. Of course, I didn’t really expect it to last. The words on my new phone were too small and my attention was pulled in different directions. Giving up, I dropped the phone to the bed and looked around my beautiful new room. Had my brain not already been fuzzy with so many other things, I may have felt grateful. I did feel grateful. Grateful and sad.
If I could only tell my mom where I was. If she could see me now. She would be so happy for me. That led me to think about my graduation. It wasn’t like a real graduation where I would walk with a class or anything, but it was the finish line. I was finally finished with school; at least high school anyway. Now what was I going to do? All I needed to do was get a paper turned in and finish up a few small assignments and I was home free. I could check diploma off my list of things do. Had it not been for getting behind in English I could have been done then, but thanks to their stupid program, the English class I needed to make up, didn’t start again until September.
Wherever I ended up, it wasn’t going to be in the city. I knew that much. I needed space, something without blacktop, maybe Vermont. My mother and I always talked about going there. That made me sad, too. She promised when she got sick that we would go as soon as she was better. She promised and she lied. She left me. But I left her, too. I walked right out and left her for someone else to deal with. No. It wasn’t her. I didn’t leave her in that hospital alone. She was already gone. She was gone before I left her.
Trying to breathe again, I sat up and walked to the window. Lights twinkled all around, some dimmed, some went out, and some stayed on. Workaholics I presumed. People like Blake. People that had no clue who their little girl even was.
I guess when I thought about Pea and the nonexistent relationship she had with her father, I was happy I had my mom; even if it was for only a short time. The first thirteen years of my life were blessed and I’d take that over this any day. We may not have had a lot of money, but my mother always made sure we had fun.
A tear rolled off my cheek and onto my arm. Swiping it away, the ink smeared and I smeared away the top half of my feather. After studying the smudge in my detailed quill I decided to add it. The feather was perfect except for the slur at the top. I could almost feel the pain in the feather. It hurt. It hurt so bad, like a burn that wouldn’t heal. It would never be a scar. It would always be a burn. It would always hurt.
I slid to the floor and buried my face in my hands. God, my heart hurt. The pain that returned over and over, night after night, would never leave me. I was destined to be a sad soul for all of eternity. I would endure this devastating pain, night after night, for the rest of my life. I fought with everything in me to hold it together. Thoughts of balloons in the sky danced in my head. Blue balloons. Then I just started adding things, trying to take up all the room. No matter how many clowns, apples, elephants, clouds, or cupcakes, the object covered sky did absolutely nothing. It didn’t take up the space I worked diligently on, trying to push my mother out.
She was there. She would always be there. My creative mind game disappeared and I heaved in sobs and sobs of pain. I jerked my head to the heavens and screamed, silently, “Mooooom!” I wailed, letting my mouth scream in agony while keeping my voice box inaudible. It hurt. It hurt so much I wanted to die. If time heals all pain, how many more days did I have? I couldn’t take it anymore. Three days hurt as much as the first one. My chest would explode before it stopped. I missed her. I missed her so much. I just wanted to hear her voice and say I was sorry. She didn’t give me chance to say goodbye, to tell her how much I loved her. I didn’t get to say goodbye. I cried, waiting for the exhaustion to take over so it would stop. I just wanted it to stop.
I felt the cool floor on my cheek when I woke to the light and the alarm on my phone at seven thirty the following morning. So far from my calculations, Pea would stay in bed until somewhere between eight fifteen and eight thirty. Routine seemed to creep quickly. The hot shower where I scrubbed away ink was becoming an everyday thing. Black rain ran in streaks down my arm and swirled in a curvy line, mixing with water and then disappeared to the drain. A hint of nostalgia filled my chest and I wondered why it felt familiar. Like déjà vu. Why did I feel like this happened once already? Probably because it did. Many times.
Wrapping one towel around my body and one around my long hair, I dabbed the morning cold cream around my puffy eyes. My mother’s voice played in my head, reminding me how it was never too early to worry about wrinkles. Placing my fingers below both eyes, I pulled down. My mom was only thirty-nine. She had a lot of wrinkles, but not until the last six months or so. Losing that much weight that quickly would make a leather snake wrinkle.
I quickly pulled my attention from my seventeen-year-old wrinkle-free face and walked to the tapping on my door.
“Yeah?” I asked, holding the towel to my chest and cracking the door.
“Um, I’m leaving now,” Blake reported. I watched his eyes scroll my body and mentally shook my head. Asshole.
“Well, goodbye,” I smartly responded, giving him the unneeded permission.
What the hell? I wasn’t sure what he was waiting on, or what the hell he was doing, but the awkward silence was unnecessary.
Blake closed his mouth, turned on his heels, and nodded. Weirdo.
I sat Pea on the countertop while I prepared her breakfast. She looked around like she’d never done that in her life. I always sat on the counter while my mom cooked. It’s where we had some of our most intimate conversations.
“What do you want to do today, Pea?” I asked, stirring real blueberries into my pancake batter. The purple reminded me of the black rain streaking down my arms. Of course Pea
didn’t answer. She sat across from me in the most casual dress I could find, big eyes and not a word.
Swirls moved in a circle while I thought about the water. The blueberries made the same black rain I’d watched run down the drain a thousand times.
“Come here, Mikki,” my mother whispered, trying to lift her head. My pen stopped drawing the plunging birds and I raised my arm from the cool radiator. She smiled with sickly, glossy eyes.
“What’s wrong? Do you want me to get the doctor? Do you need something for the pain?”
“No, baby. I’m okay. I want to let go now, Mikki. It’s time.”
“Let go of what?” I asked, alarmed, “No, it’s not. Mom! Don’t say that. You’re going to be fine. I’m getting ready to graduate high school. You can’t give up,” I said, supplicating with every word. My eyes drifted to the tear running down my arm.
My mother smiled and wiped it away, “Why do you do this?” She smiled, observing the damaged I’d done up and down my arm with ink. I managed a whole sleeve, watching her chest rise and fall, afraid it would stop. I had so many bad adrenaline rushes during that last stay; I should have had a few heart attacks by now. Not the roller coaster rush; the bad kind, like when you have a close call that makes you piss down your leg. Every time I saw a pause in her breathing I jumped up, ready to get help.
“It helps occupy my mind.”
“And your time. I don’t want you to do this anymore, Mikki. I need for you to let me go. I need you to go to him one more time. Please, Mikki. I have to know you’re okay.”
“No. I’m not going to do that. I did that. I begged him for help. He rejected me. I don’t need him. I don’t need anyone. I can take care of myself,” I assured my mother, standing.
“Baby, come here.”
“Go. Go, Mom. If it’s my permission you’re needing, take it,” I yelled, wiping my hand down my wet forearm, smearing the last seven hours of work away with my tears. I backed away, heaving in breaths of air that wasn’t available. I needed oxygen.
How could she do this? How could she put this on me?
“Mikki, come here,” My mother begged. She turned her head into the pillow trying to hide her own escaping tears.
I clung to her floral hospital gown and sobbed. “Mom, please don’t go. Please don’t give up. You have to fight. You have to, Mom, please,” I moaned, in and out, clinging to her boney chest. My happy, strong, loving mother had withered away to a pile of bones right in front of my eyes. Her frail, skeletal body was tired.
“Mikki, I’m tired,” she confirmed. I knew what she was asking. I knew she wanted to stop fighting. I couldn’t let her. We were a team. Mikki and Vikki. We went together like twins, like coffee and cream, like the stripe in peppermint. She couldn’t separate us. I couldn’t handle it. I was still a child and it wasn’t fair that I was being put in this position. I never asked to be born. She couldn’t have me and then leave me. It didn’t work like that.
“I’m not letting you give up. You’re going home, Mom. You’re not staying here. We’re going to get our house back on Begonia Drive, you’re getting your job back at the hospital, and you’re going to play the piano again in front of thousands of people. You’re not done. You’re not, Mom!” I cried, realizing I was by the door and not by her side anymore. I didn’t give her time to say any more words. I ran out. I wasn’t letting her off that easily. She wasn’t quitting us. Not now. Now yet. We were going to beat this just like the first time. We had to.
The noise from my vigorous stirring pulled me from the meltdown I was about to have. I looked to Pea, sitting there doing nothing. Absolutely nothing. Her eyes watched me, cautiously while I assaulted her breakfast.
“You want to help?” I asked, wondering if the girl was always this mute. She heard me loud and clear. Her eyes brightened to the other blue; the pretty turquoise color, “Are you a vampire? Your eyes change colors. Did you know that?”
Nothing.
Silence.
After robbing the desk in the entryway from its chair, I carried her over and stood her on the chair. Wrapping her little hand around the wooden handle, I helped her stir. She turned back and smiled. Even if her eyes did shy away, I saw the happiness, briefly cross her little face. It was that exact moment that I realized how much this little girl needed me. And I needed her. I just didn’t know it yet.
Her training panties came that morning along with normal comfortable clothes. She was freaking adorable in jeans and sneakers. I knew we’d probably have an accident in her new pants by noon, but it never happened. She didn’t have one accident. Not one. She only needed someone to put them on her and tell her what to do. That’s it. She was extremely smart and I was appalled that not one person tried to potty train this child. Not only was she ready. She did it herself.
After packing peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for lunch, Pea and I set out on our first adventure. I did most of the talking, but she went along, loving every second of it. We spent the better part of the morning in the small patch of woods. We could still hear the metropolis, the jackhammers, sirens, car horns, and we could smell it, but it was fairly easy to tune it out.
My new phone did wonders for our imagination. With the help of a sound effects app, we swam from sharks, ran from lions, found a cave to escape the loud thunderstorm, and then we listened to Yanni play the piano while we ate peanut butter and jelly and chips.
“We should go, Pea. You look like you’re ready for a nap now,” I observed, watching her yawn. I yawned, too, but not because I was tired, just because she did it first.
I raised my arm and stared down at her in awe when she scooted close to me. This poor child was starving for attention. My only issue was; I didn’t want to fall in love with her. She would eventually leave me. I was never fighting that pain again.
“Come on, let’s head back,” I said, ruffling her hair a little. I knew the kid was latching on to me and I wasn’t sure how to handle it. Loving someone else would never be in my future. The pain wasn’t worth it.
Not at the time anyway. Now she was worth it all.
Seven
I’m not really sure what Quinn’s intentions were, but he was at my door by ten the following morning. I watched cautiously while he coaxed the black dog out of the truck roughly. Grabbing her collar, he jerked her from the truck seat and then threatened her with a straight finger when she showed teeth. I sucked at first impressions and I didn’t find Quinn so nice anymore. I didn’t want him around Pea either.
I cautiously opened the door and Pea ran to the dog, coyly staying away from Quinn. I almost yelled for her to stay away from the dog after seeing the growly teeth, but then Sadie’s tail wagged happily.
“You ladies have swimsuits, right. Who wants to go float the lazy river?” he asked Pea and not me. I would have lied. Of course Honest Abe didn’t lie. She assured him that we would love to go and we indeed had swimsuits. I’m not sure the kid had ever told a lie in her life. Even when she did something bad she told me, like when she learned how to make a circle. The hallway still had purple circles, decorating both sides. She wasn’t even three yet and told the truth when I asked her if she did it, even if I wasn’t sure if she was guilty or not. She told the truth.
You would think Pea was my own flesh and blood with her mouth. Rarely did she have the willpower to think before she spoke. But… in her defense, she learned from the best. I’m almost sure nobody Blake ever had grace his presence got under his skin the way I did.
“I don’t think that’s such a good idea.” I made the mistake of going into the crowded restaurant; I wasn’t going near any of the canoe liveries or any other pubic place.
“Come on,” Quinn coaxed.
“Please, please, please,” Pea chanted, bouncing up and down while pulling my shoulder out of its socket, “I never been in a tube before.”
“I said no, Pea. Go inside,” I ordered. Quinn looked at me puzzled. It may have been me being paranoid again, but I wasn’t about to go tubing bet
ween mountains with no cellphone service, no people in sight, and no ears close enough to hear a gunshot or a scream. Pea and I were not going down the river with this guy.
“Okay, let’s not make your mom mad, we’ll just play along the river here. I just need to make a quick call before we get down there. Once you get past that cliff there you’re out of civilization,” Quinn explained. He turned and walked back to his truck with a smile. Was he being suspicious or was I being unreasonable?
Pea put on her swimsuit while I had a talk with her. “Pea, I don’t think we should trust Quinn. Why don’t we tell him you’re not feeling well today?”
“He had tubes to float on the river,” she explained sliding her arm through her strap, “He’s not bad.” Crap. I knew it wasn’t going to be that simple. I jumped when I heard the gunshot and grabbed Pea. I looked out front where we had left him to make his call and he wasn’t there. I looked out back where the woods were and watched him slide the gun behind his back.
Although my heart thumped in my chest, I didn’t let that stop me. I didn’t appreciate him bringing a gun around me or Pea. Who does that? My anger got to me before the realization that he had a gun. Why?
“Sorry about that. Copperhead,” he smiled like it was no big deal. I met him half way, sliding Pea down my body.
“Are you crazy? Why would you bring a gun around my child?”
“I’m a game warden. I always carry a gun.”
Oh, well that made sense. Jesus, I needed to calm down.
I reluctantly went to the river with Quinn. I guess he seemed okay. He was really good with Pea, and he didn’t act crazy at all. I was the crazy one, and I knew he was leaving in one more day. I wouldn’t have to worry about it anymore.
“Hey, where’s Sadie?” Pea asked from the tube.
“She was here a minute ago,” Quinn said, shoving her tube and jerking back when the rope tightened. She squealed and held on for dear life. I looked around for the dog. I hadn’t seen her a minute ago; in fact, I hadn’t seen her since she growled at Quinn back at the house. Oh my God. Just stop, Mikki! Everything I thought about was suspicious. Even the cooler of beverages Quinn brought. Maybe he was going to poison us. UGH!