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“Oh Kanen, you know I love you, boy,” says my mama. “Even if you’re a no-good moron.”
“I know Mama.” I do, I do know. I run over to her, and look her in the eyes, not sure if I’m going see my mother looking out or not. “Are you okay?”
“Oh Kanen, no matter what happens to me, you know you have to look out for yourself, right, boy?” I look down. My dirty old Keds are tracking mud in. She’d yell at me for it if she were in her right mind.
“I’ll try, Mama.”
“You need to do better than just try.” Her voice is adamant, but at the same time weak and shaking. “You’re the only one of our family left, and I want you to be successful.”
“I promise,” I say, but what is successful? Why am I the only one left? What about Daddy? Where is he? Is he coming back?
She undoes the rubber band around her arm, and her head sinks back into the chair. She’s passed out. I watch her, but I don’t dare shake her. Mama wouldn’t take too kindly to me waking her up when she’s trying to sleep.
I put the needle that’s hanging out of her arm on the table beside her, and put out the cigarette she was smoking in the ashtray. Not before taking a quick puff, just to see what it’s like, and having a coughing fit.
No matter, I can do what I want now. Mama’s not going to yell for at least a few hours. I think I’ll go skateboarding.
I’m flying through the air, up and down the ramp, the best skateboarder in the neighborhood. None of the other kids will try any of these tricks. They’re satisfied with ollies, but I’m going to be free on my board. I’m going to be able to do anything I want, and nobody will be able to stop me.
I open my eyes, just a little. It’s so bright. So terribly bright.
“Canada,” I croak, and someone puts some ice chips into my dry mouth. I don’t know why the ice chips. A little water would be good. “Canada are you there?”
“I’m here Kanen,” she says. “I’m here. I’m right beside you, I haven’t left.” Her voice is soft and cool like water. I’m so thirsty.
I try to turn to her but I’m so tired. I guess I’m drugged too. Is this what Mama felt like? When she was high? It feels nice to be free of pain. But I’m so tired. And it’s bright. I need to close my eyes.
“Everything’s going to be okay, Kanen,” she says. “You’re going to be okay. Just rest.”
And I do.
Twenty-Seven
Chastity
It’s been three days that I’ve been at Kanen’s side. He’s going to be fine, but since he’s one of the rodeo’s star athletes, they’re doing just about everything they can. Every possible precaution is being taken to ensure that their investment is protected. That’s what it sounds like anyhow. I’ve overheard some things since I’ve been sitting in the corner of the room. I’m so quiet I guess they sometimes forget that I’m here, and end up talking a bit more openly than they should about what’s happening to him. It’s heartbreaking to realize how many people don’t even see him as anything more than an investment opportunity.
I decide to wash his face. The nurse on this shift is kind, but she sure seems busy. Grabbing a basin and a washcloth from the bathroom, I gently go over the angles of Kanen’s beautiful face with the wet cloth, being careful not to touch the wounds that are slowly being covered by scabs and new skin.
I feel like I should be talking to him, babbling about my childhood or something, just to keep his brain engaged and let him know someone’s here for him, but the only thing I can think of to talk about is what happened with Jeffrey and the baby. So I do.
“When I was in Canada,” I begin, and gently wash his face, “and in high school, I met a man named Jeffrey.” Only the beginning, I tell him everything. How we got married, how I realized we weren’t really in love, and how he and the baby died the same day. I’m not too proud to say I cried while I was telling him. When I finally finish my story, he opens his eyes.
“Canada,” he says. “I love you.”
“I love you, Kanen,” I answer. How, or why, I don’t know. But when he was on the ground of the arena, all I wanted to do was to be with him, to fight off that bull, or those fans, or that stupid man from the restaurant who seemed so happy that Kanen was on the ground, in danger of death. I felt the same way I felt when I thought I might lose my baby. That I would do anything in the world to change things and make it all okay, to make him live. And that’s how I know I love Kanen, because I would never doubt my love for that little child in my womb in a million years.
Kanen goes back to sleep, and I catch a nap on the chair beside him.
When I wake up, there are some cowboys at the door of his room.
“Howdy there, ma’am,” says the first. “We’re uh, Wrecker’s—I mean Kanen’s—friends and colleagues from the rodeo. My name’s Bill.” He stretches out a large, callused hand. Mine disappears into it.
“I’m Chastity,” I say.
“Nice to meet you. Is it okay if we visit with Kanen?” he asks.
“Sure.” I take the opportunity to leave the room, maybe get something to eat at the cafeteria, wash my face. As long as someone who cares about Kanen is with him. I don’t want him to be all alone.
