West Six
Gage
He is life. . . for us. . .
In our room, I straightened Ethan’s bed, then pulled down the sheets like an eager hotel attendant. I knew he wasn’t going to take Sarah to her own bed. Not even Jesus himself would be able to pry that girl from Ethan’s arms.
When he turned the corner of the doorway, my heart broke at seeing how devastated she looked. Her body was droopy, lifeless in his hold. Far smaller than I expected after seeing her every day for years.
Finn followed them to the door but didn’t come into our room. Just watched, as if Sarah now had a special place in his heart. I motioned to him to turn off the overhead light, then turned on a lamp.
Ethan stared at Sarah while getting into the bed, gently, to not disturb the disturbed. I put an extra pillow on his side of the mattress so he could, on his side facing my bed, watch her better. As soon as the back of Sarah’s head touched the pillow, her eyes closed.
Ethan sighed. Then his hands moved, telling me, “If she breaks, I break.”
I nodded. Then motioned, Loud and clear, my friend.
As she had before, Harmony quietly snuck around Finn, who still stood in the doorway, to bring bottles of water and fruit in a basket. She placed them on the nightstand next to his bed, while whispering, “I’ve noticed the hand communication lately. Eerie but fascinating.”
We all looked at each other. What is she talking about?
From the doorway, Finn stared at his hands. Then only the one that had been through the blood oath.
Chills ran through my whole body. Maybe someday we will understand.
With an undeniable motherly instinct, Harmony helped me cover Sarah and Ethan.
She kissed Sarah’s forehead, gave an encouraging touch to Ethan’s shoulder, hugged me then Finn, and left the room and hallway. Finn followed her. I was going to, too, but heard, “Stay?”
I whispered, “Of course, man.”
To not make a peep, I grabbed a paperback and crawled into my bed.
After a couple of hours of reading, Harmony brought in two bowls of pot roast. My stomach rumbled in gratitude.
Sarah hadn’t moved.
She never did when this happened to her.
During nightmares, or times like this when she became catatonic from the trauma in her past, she was unable to move a muscle to prevent the memories of horrors inflicted on her.
I still didn’t know every detail, but over the years, we’d learned enough.
Learned that bad shit had happened to her when she was in elementary school.
The kind of fucked up bullshit even the news media hesitated to cover.
Ethan only stretched out a leg here and there but kept her cradled against his stomach and chest, her neck in the crook of his arm that had probably fallen asleep long ago.
I couldn’t believe his hand had enough blood to hold the bowl.
The arm over Sarah managed to feed himself without a drop getting on her sleeping form.
When he was done, I grabbed his bowl and took them both to the kitchen, placing them in the dishwasher. Harmony called out from the living room, “How is she?”
I entered the living room to find she and Dale were snuggled on the couch.
“Still out,” I said, not wanting to sound worried.
After a moment of studying me, she warned, “Might be a long night. Wake me if you need me, got it?”
The woman didn’t know how not to love us. “Yes, ma’am. Good night.”
Sarah used to see a counselor. She’d become a lab rat when these breakdowns occurred. No one could help—no doctor or medicine. So, the family started dealing with them on our own. Patience. Quiet. Love… and eventually, Sarah came back to us, every time.
Heading back upstairs, I saw Seb sitting at the top, waiting for me. “Johnny was so patient with her during these episodes.”
Damn, I miss that guy.
Johnny had kept insisting, “For real. She just needs us to be quiet for a while. Be still while she sorts it out inside.”
I don’t know who taught him such understanding of people, but he seemed to be able to scan them with a magical sight and—Shit, I guess now we know how.
“As is Ethan now.” I promised, “She’s in good hands.”
Sebastian rested his forearms on his knees. “How long has he loved her?”
I smiled. Ethan hid it well. “Years.”
“Damn.” His head fell and hung forward. “How’d I miss that?”
Turning at the top step, I sat next to him. “Blue. She owned your every moment.”
His head hung heavier. “Still does.”
I put an arm around him. “Will for a long time, my friend. I’m sorry.”
The saddest tears fell from Seb’s eyes onto the stair below. “A part of me left with her when she died.” He was quiet, adding, “I felt it. For a precious moment, I got to be closer to her than ever before. Then…”
I was there. I saw it all. From the moment that little girl walked into our lives… to the day she slipped away, leaving behind a completely different young man. “I don’t think you will ever love like that again.”
He leaned into me and cried deeply. “Please don’t be mad at me for looking forward to the day I die.”
My throat tightened. Such a hard thing to hear from someone I didn’t want to lose, but as I said, I had been there to see it all and understood. “Just try not to rush away from us. Be sure she would be proud of your exit—”
From under my arm, he jolted.
Maybe he finally saw what I was saw. A young man searching for his own wings so he could fly straight to his Baby Blue.
In the middle of the night, it wasn’t me who comforted Ethan through another of his night terrors. Usually, it was me. Or Johnny with his sixth sense. Nope, this time it was Sarah. That’s why I didn’t move or open my eyes when I heard her whisper, “Ethan. It’s okay. You had a bad dream.”
“Sorry,” he whispered in return. I could hear him untangling his legs in sheets that were usually a mess by the time I’d get to him.
“This isn’t your first one, is it?”
His voice deepened. “No.”
Sarah sounded like an angel. “I’m sorry I missed the others.”
I thought of all the times we heard Johnny cry out for his father, sounding so scared and unlike the brave guy he would return to when awake. Then, I would watch Ethan stare at the bottom of our bedroom door, knowing what was coming. The shadows of gentle footsteps running to her dear friend.
In our dark room, as her footsteps were making their way up the attic stairs, Ethan would whisper, “Maybe someday you will run to me.”
And here she was, in his bed, whispering, “I want to be with you for every one of them, from now on.”
My friend was barely audible as he whispered, “Then I’ll look forward to every horrible dream.”
It took everything I had not to let them know I was awake. I wanted to celebrate their beauty being found in all this darkness. As hearts kept breaking in this house, some were finding peaceful moments.
My lungs filled… and I quietly exhaled my gratitude. All these young bodies housing the oldest of souls, finding each other through the gates of hell.
“How are you feeling?” he asked Sarah.
I appreciated Sarah taking a moment to answer. It told me she was speaking the truth when she said, “I hear the crying again.” Her whisper was so tiny and sad that I could almost feel Ethan’s throat close up in response. “Tonight, I heard Blue’s cries along with the other kids.”
Shit.
“Do you want to talk about it?” my friend bravely asked.
I say ‘bravely’ because I wanted to pipe in and say, “Please don’t rock my world by sharing a tale I know I’ll never forget.
” I think that is part of the beauty of darkness.
It gives you the strength to see much more than normally, and the strength to help another.
Maybe Ethan was simply that. Giving. Loyal. Because he listened… to it all.
“I felt you holding me.”
His voice cracked. “Good.”
“It helped me hear all the gunshots.”
“I’ll be here for every bullet, Sarah.”
Her whispers were now strained. “Everyone tried not to make a noise. I even covered my ears. Isn’t that silly? I thought if I couldn’t hear it, it would stop. But the noises were so loud, and the gunshots just kept getting closer.”
He didn’t interrupt her. He stayed on course, doing what Johnny had claimed she needed. Quiet, while she sorted it all out.
“I peed my pants.” She sniffled. “My body just froze when the door opened to our classroom, and I couldn’t hold it. My whole body shook with fear, and I just… I couldn’t move, Ethan.”
Today was the anniversary of a school shooting, and I didn’t think there could be anything worse in the world.
“It was my father, Ethan. He was the one with the gun.”
But I lay there, in the dark, gruesomely corrected.
Sarah spoke in a haunted manner. “He pointed the gun and shot several of my friends, but when he got to me, he stopped. I remember seeing him standing there from under my desk. Terrified. Wet pants. Hands over my ears.”
I thought of all the other parents who couldn’t hold their kids and never would again.
Jesus, how do you let this happen?
“He stared right into my eyes. I don’t know for how long. Then he just turned around and left. When the police came to the school, I heard them whispering. The shooter had gone home and killed his wife, then himself.” She hiccupped a cry. “I guess beating her was no longer enough.”
I heard sheets rustle. I knew Ethan was pulling her close and holding her. I could hear his breath shaking…
I dared to open my eyes.
Over her shoulder, him holding her tight to his chest, he stared at me with so much sorrow I wasn’t sure he’d ever get the images out of his head.
Silently, I blew out air, reminding him of what he told Sarah to do.
Eyes locked on mine, he inhaled deeply… then released some of the pain. I knew he had because I somehow felt it. And I also got to witness it as he pressed a kiss to her hair, then mouthed, “Beloved.”
It was an endearment he used to hear his grandparents call one another. They had been married for over sixty years before they both passed away when Ethan was young. He had vivid memories of their obvious affection for one another.