“Nothing. I turned to walk away, and that’s when she shot me. Right in the back of the leg. She was trying to shoot me dead, though. I swear she was. She just missed.” He wipes the sweat off his forehead. I grab one of the bottled waters from the center of the table, unscrew the cap, and hand it to him. He crackles the plastic while he chugs half the bottle. “Anyway, she was trying to kill me, but Ms. Walker grabbed her. She—”
“Ms. Walker was with her?” He insisted on driving me to our meetings and waiting in the car until they were over. He never thought meeting with her was a good idea, but it just added to the fun. Another layer to the drama.
He nods.
“I don’t understand. What was she doing there?” It was a delicate dance with Ms. Walker. For a while, I was afraid she would miss what was right in front of her. I’m so glad she didn’t disappoint.
“I don’t know. She just jumped out of nowhere when your mom tried to shoot me. She probably saved my life.” He sits up straight in his chair, reliving the moment again. “See, we’d already done the exchange, and I was walking away as fast as I could, just trying my hardest to get to the truck and back to you, when—pop!” He gestures wildly with his hand. “The gun goes off and the bullet hits me. Out of nowhere. Just zings my leg, and I drop to the ground.” He flops back in his chair with his arms spread out to show me. The sudden movements make him wince in pain, and he stiffens immediately. “And then next thing I know, I turn around and Genevieve is pointing the gun at some lady. It took me a second to recognize her, but it was Ms. Walker.”
“Did she say anything?”
“Not to me.” He shakes his head. “The two of them started tussling and fighting. That’s how I got away. I just crept away right when they were in the middle of carrying on.” He takes a deep, shuddering breath. “What are we going to do, Savannah?” He points at his leg and grimaces.
“Can I see it?” My voice is as tender as my touch will be.
“It did nothing but bleed for the first hour. It’s all over the truck. You should see it. It looks like some kind of massacre happened in there.” He sucks in his breath through gritted teeth. “I didn’t think it’d ever stop. Then it just did, but I’m afraid to touch it in case it makes it start all over again.” He cringes as he moves the fabric near the wound and backs off. “I just don’t know what to do. What are we going to do, Savannah?” He’s wound as tight as I’ve ever seen him. Teetering in the narrow gap between breaking down and freaking out.
I lean over and wrap my arms tightly around him. He collapses into my chest, and I rub his back in soothing strokes. His body is damp with sweat. He smells metallic. I whisper into the top of his head, “Don’t worry, baby. It’s going to be okay. You just let me take care of you.”
NOW
What is this me?
I remember you.
Will you remember me?
She said I couldn’t get out. That I’d always have to stay. That way. With her.
But she was wrong.
Here I am.
There you go.
And I am strong.
I’ll bring my words back.
I’ll tell on you.
Don’t be a tattletale. That’s what she said. Look what happened to Daddy.
She made me watch.
Stuck that needle in between his toes. He’ll be quiet now.
Put her finger to her lips. Shhh.
But she’s not the boss of me anymore. I am.
I’ll tell on you and keep telling on you.
To the eyes that listen. The ones that are kind.
Not like yours. Or That Monster’s.
I didn’t want to do it. He made me.
Just like you always do.
Ugly pink man with little pink hands.
Put that rock in my hands.
THIRTY-NINE
SAVANNAH HILL
I hold my breath as I slip myself out from underneath the covers inch by inch. Brett is a terribly light sleeper, and if he wakes up now, everything will be ruined. I tiptoe around the bed and crouch, keeping one eye on him while pulling out the backpack I slid underneath earlier. I got everything ready before Brett arrived last night. I’m so glad he showed up. I don’t know what I would’ve done if he hadn’t.
I slowly unzip the backpack, making sure it doesn’t make a sound, and pull out the handwritten letter, rereading it a final time.
Dear Brett,
I’m sorry but I can’t do this anymore. I love you but I can’t be with a junkie. I’ve tried my hardest. Done everything to try to save you but you can’t save someone who doesn’t want to be saved.
I just knew when you didn’t come home on Tuesday that you’d relapsed and gone on another binge. Your sister told me this is probably where I’d find you. I swear I came down here trying to work things out. I was going to drag you to detox another time, but I got down here and saw you all messed up again and I just don’t have it in me.
I’m going home. I hope you get help.
Love,
Savannah
I put the note on the TV console. I made sure to smudge and wrinkle it up yesterday so it looks like it’s been handled. I slip on my backpack and tiptoe to the other side of the bed. It’s been such a journey, and as hard as things have been, this is the most difficult part. It all led up to this. The final step where one part of my life ends and a new chapter begins.
I tower over Brett, staring down at his sleeping body. Everyone always looks like they did when they were a baby while they’re sleeping. It’s one of the reasons I love watching people sleep. My first roommate at Ole Miss thought it was creepy when she found me standing over her and asked to move rooms. I was more careful with my second roommate.
Brett isn’t any different. His lips are puckered like he’s giving someone a huge kiss, and a small drop of spit hangs in the right corner of his mouth. It’ll have slipped out by the end of the night. His lashes flutter on his cheeks. Those unbelievably long lashes that house some of the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen. That’s how I knew I’d found the one.
I’m going to miss him.