Jack is dead. That was the only sentence rambling through my head on a consistent basis every day. I could not move, my mind was paralyzed by my sadness. The television and bed became my center of life. Friends began to fade into the distance; the ringing telephone became an old alarm clock. Getting a job in the real world and making it to the top of the ladder became a star out of my reach.
I hated Jack. He was the kid next door who threw mud pies at my dolls and drenched me with his water hose when I was wearing my Sunday dress. “One day you’ll fall in love with little Jackson,” my mother would playfully say. I thought “little Jackson” was the devil. I once saw Jack cry when he fell off the trampoline and broke his arm. I watched through the fence and laughed. I thought Jack never cried. I never told him I watched him whimper or that it made me smile to know he was in pain. I would laugh gleefully when Jack was too sick to go to school. Jack was the brother I hated, the brother I wanted to push off the trampoline, the brother I never had.
I stared at myself in the mirror? Was this me? The blonde curls replaced by a constant ponytail, my frail bones. This was the me running from life. I had job offers stacking up in my voicemail box. My dad called daily pushing me inquiring about my job pursuit. I lied. I told him I had interviews lining my calendar for the upcoming week. I did not want my dad to worry about me. I lied to the world to make them think my life was the chiseled ice sculpture of the goddess of perfection . The ice sculpture was melting; and I felt helpless in my acts to preserve it.
Jack stood against his fence in the middle of the night. We often met to talk about school things out there. We would talk for hours, gossiping about life.
“So, how was the big date?” He smiled.
“You’re pushing it, Jack. Why does it matter?“
I lifted myself over his fence to stand beside him. The cold wind pushed against my face. “Not like Susie Sunshine? Whatever happened to you?“
Jack had been dating Taylor for more than a year. It was one of those high school romances where he exchanged daily letters with her, walked her to class, went to her volleyball games waiting afterwards with a rose. I didn’t want to tell him that Eric and I didn’t work out. I was afraid of commitment. I didn’t want to tell him that Eric and I stared at each other with nothing to talk about over our Valentine dinner.
“Tell me about your date and I’ll tell you about mine. If not, forget it.“ He said taunting me.
“Jack, shut up.”
He lowered his eyes.
“Do you ever wonder if what you’re loving is right under your nose?“
He said quietly. I stared at him. I wondered why he was acting strange.
“Well, sure. I can’t seem to make any relationship work.“
“I broke up with Taylor tonight.“
It caught me off guard. I fell against the fence.
“You can’t just dump someone after a year. It doesn’t happen in one night.“
“It didn’t,“ He said again too quietly. “I think… I think… that I’m in love with you.”
I started to laugh.
“Jack, you did not break up with her because you think you’re in love with me.”
He looked down at the ground and back up again. I suddenly realized it was Jack the entire time. The reason relationships would not work was because of Jack. He was this force that I could not fight.
“Jack, I’m going to have to think about what you just said. I mean, it just can’t make sense – “
He suddenly kissed me awkwardly. I felt electric shocks rivet through my body. Then and there I fell in love with Jack.
It made no sense that God would take him away from me. It had to be a mistake. I hadn’t done anything with my life in six months. I felt like I was drowning. The waves flew over my head and I just sat under them breathing in the water. I didn’t care what happened. Without Jack I was trying to fly with one wing.
He asked me to marry him at Christmas dinner with all of my family. I started to giggle as he extended the ring towards me. Nothing stood in our way. We were practically family so it seemed like nothing new. We would often talk about our house with the white picket fence. We wanted two kids and a Saint Bernard. The future was a canvas of perfection.
I opened the door that Sunday morning to see my older sister standing there. Her disheveled red hair fell loosely over her face. Ginger had driven six hours home after my college graduation that weekend. I could not figure out why she would be standing at my door two days later.
“Come in, come in. My gosh, are you okay?”
She didn’t speak a word, but walked past me into the apartment.
“Neely, something bad happened last night. I drove all night to come tell you. I don’t know why they picked me, but here I am.”
It was weird to hear her talk like that. Ginger and I had always been close. She lived in my hometown with her husband and my little nephew. “What’re you talking about? Are Mom and Dad okay?” I remember wanting to call Jack to make him help me understand whatever news she was about to spring. It’s funny how those seconds before they actually tell you the news, millions of things run through your mind, a lifetime of thoughts in a few seconds.
“Jack was in a car accident last night, Neely. He fell asleep driving around 3 AM. He was coming in from a boy’s night out.”
“Yeah, I know he was going out with the guys. Well, you know Carla would’ve called me if it was something bad.” I tried to make the conversation change directions. Somehow I knew. My heart sank right after she said Jack’s name. I didn’t ask her if he was hurt. She never said a word. She only looked at me. I knew by her look.
“Ginger, come on, you’re wrong. No, no, Carla would’ve called me before you. She would tell me. Not you.”
She reached for me, but I pulled away.
“Neely, she wanted me to tell you. She’s just distraught today.”
There was nothing she could say or do at that moment. I couldn’t absorb it, so I just tried to erase it. We stood there in silence for what seemed like a lifetime.
“Maybe you should just come out to eat with us tonight. You haven’t been out in forever, Neely. Just come eat, hang out, it’ll be fun.” I shifted the phone as I listened to my best friend, Sarah, try to convince me civilization was a good place for me to live again. I was quiet for a few seconds.
“Nah, I have some portfolios to work on.”
She groaned. “You’re not going to work on your portfolios, Neely. What do you want to do?”
I didn’t say anything again letting silence fill our airwaves.
“Nothing. I don’t want to do anything. I just don’t feel like I’m going to face another day.”
“Well, then what are you going to do?” She asked angrily.
The question caught me off guard. She didn’t give me pity or try to help me through the moment. She was being truthful. What was I going to do? Was I going to wither away in my apartment for the rest of my life? Was I going to start my life over? I had no idea what I was going to do.
Days went by as Sarah’s question vibrated through my head. I began to realize life wasn’t stopping for me. I could stop my life, but the world kept spinning. One day I turned on the radio to a familiar country tune. It made me smile to hear music again. I slowly walked into my bathroom scouting the cabinets for my curling iron and make-up bag. I twirled my ring around my finger. I wasn’t ready to take it off. I decided it was time to breathe again. I was tired of drowning. Could I move my pawn down the road of life without feeling guilty? I picked up a framed picture of Jack and me at a college formal. We both looked so happy like we belonged together forever. I kissed the picture and laughed. It was time to spread my wings without Jack.
