Page 76 of Life, Love, and Other Messes

“I don’t understand.”

“I don’t understand. If I did I’d stop it but I don’t and I can’t and God, I just can’t do this anymore.”

Lisa straightened up and took a breath. “You’re actually serious.”

“I can’t do this.”

She nodded briefly and gathered her things. “I’ve never been broken up with for being wonderful before.”

Was that what I was doing? Shit. Shit shit shit. “I’m sorry.”

“No. I’m sorry.” With that, Lisa gave Ollie the tiniest scritch and let herself out the door.

Chapter Eighteen

1991

Jackson didn’t come near me for the next few months, but he lurked. He passed the church office at least twice each evening I was locked in there during bible study. I could feel his eyes on me during church itself, but I refused to look at him even though my seat in the choir loft faced the congregation.

He was also everywhere in my thoughts and nightmares. I couldn’t concentrate on anything at school or at home. I walked around in a haze, feeling helpless and wrong and filthy.

It was April when I decided I had to do something about it. The trees were beginning to leaf out over spring break when Shannon Kersey’s family went out of town for the week. She had been my good friend in elementary school, and her family lived in a rambling two-story farmhouse down one of the county roads.

That Monday, I threw my backpack over my shoulders and got on my bike. The route was about two miles, fields ready for corn on both sides of the road. It was a beautiful day, crisp and bright, faint stripes of cirrus clouds in the bright blue sky.

I rode up the Kersey’s driveway and continued to the backyard, where I leaned my bike up against the house. The yard was muddy with brown grass, too early for it to green up. I avoided the puddles and worked my way to a large apple tree. It stood so close to the house that its branches scraped against Shannon’s window on breezy nights, making ghost stories during sleepovers even more creepy.

I scanned the area around me even though the closest neighbor houses were barely within sight, and sized up the tree. It had been our climbing tree when we were little, and three horizontal boards were still nailed to the trunk, a rudimentary ladder reaching the first substantial branch. Nervous energy buzzed through my body as I took hold of the highest one and kicked my left foot up to the first. It had become brittle and half of it broke off under my weight. Undeterred, I tried again, this time with my foot directly over the nails holding the rest of the board on. This time it held, and I grabbed hold of the lowest branch and pulled myself up to the second step, then the third. I started to tremble when I climbed entirely onto the branch and reached for a higher one to steady myself. Trying not to look down, I edged slowly toward the house, feeling the branch bowing under me. I’d probably been eight or nine the last time Shannon and I had done this. Just as I was sure the branch would break, I reached the roof and more so fell to it than jumped. From there, I crawled to Shannon’s bedroom dormer window and assessed the screen. I didn’t remember it being there, but I saw quickly that it was barely attached, snapped into little pins on either side. I lay it on the roof next to me and slid the window upward. It didn’t budge.

Shit. All those times we’d snuck out and back in and I knew she never locked it. It had to open. I pushed up on the sides, then on the glass, but I only succeeded in smudging it. I hastily buffed the marks off with the bottom of my shirt, then considered my options. I could give up and climb down. I could keep trying harder and risk breaking the window. Frustrated, I hit the side of the frame, and heard a pop. That was it. The window just hadn’t been opened in a long time. I smacked the other side, then the lower center just for good measure. To my surprise, this time when I pushed in and up, the window slid just enough for me to get my fingers in below it. I opened it all the way and climbed in onto Shannon’s bed.

I left the window open. I didn’t want to mess with it in case it would get stuck again when I needed to leave. Shannon’s room looked completely different: the walls were still pink, but they were full of posters of heavy metal bands, and her dresser was covered with one million little jars, pencils, and tubes of makeup. Her parents’ bedroom was down the hall.

I knew exactly what I wanted and exactly where it was. On Mr. Kersey’s side, I opened the drawer in the bedside table and carefully lifted out his Glock nine-millimeter handgun. I knew he kept it loaded, and it scared me to even touch it, but I unzipped my backpack quickly, and wrapped it in a towel I had inside. I closed the drawer and moved silently back to Shannon’s room.

Once I trusted my footing on the roof, out was easier than in, and down was faster than up, especially since I lost my footing on one of the boards and jumped several feet down so I wouldn’t fall on my ass. I looked back up at the house, making sure the screen looked secure and that I couldn’t tell anyone had been up there. Mission accomplished. I set back out on my bike, and rode home carefully, as if the smallest jolt could fire the gun. Once home, I said hello to my mother, who was in the kitchen, and continued to my room, where I tucked the backpack in the corner of my closet and buried it in a pile of laundry. There I left it.

2024

God, what had I done?

It had been a week since I’d decimated my relationship with my mother and now I’d gone and broken up with Lisa. I felt an emptiness I’d never experienced before. How had I gotten to this point so quickly with her? It usually took months, even years. It had felt so comfortable, though, and maybe that was why. It felt comfortable and it didn’t scare me, not one bit. So what do I do? Push her away in the most inane way possible. Oh, my mind was out of control. I stared at my pill bottles in the morning, wondering if they’d given me placebos instead of my real prescriptions.

Now, all I wanted was to have her back. I didn’t even need her to be my girlfriend, I just needed our talks and introspection and confidence in one another. I wanted to laugh at whatever the hell she’d said about the letter J. I wanted another chance, but this was textbook. Things got good, I got intense, I pushed away, and I begged to be taken back. I couldn’t beg this time, though. I couldn’t get her caught up in the cycle. She just plain deserved better than that.

I’d found my razor blade in the bottom of my underwear drawer. I’d very deliberately put it back in the medicine cabinet and opened the door just to check on it from time to time. I didn’t do anything with it, but I knew it was there. Friday after class, I took Ollie to the dog park instead of walking him and stood at the far end of the fence from all the other people, willing them to stay away from me. I watched Ollie romp with a shepherd and a pittie and a golden mix. I slumped onto the dirt and pulled my knees to my chest, wishing I wasn’t alive, but then a pack of six dogs ran up and started climbing and licking and I was a mess of dirt and slurp.

I’d just hung up Ollie’s harness when my phone buzzed. My heart jumped into my throat. My first thought was Lisa? Then, I wondered if it could possibly be my mother.

Hey girl. It was Jace.

I have a manuscript for you. I’m just working out a few kinks.

Sure. Take your time.

Why was she texting then? What’s up?

I got this weird feeling that I really needed to reach out. I can’t explain.