Forget Me Not (13 page)

Jack actually smiles. “I think that’s
the first time you’ve shown a spine, princess.”

I glare at him.

“
Lily,” he corrects.
“Look, come for a ride with me. We’ll talk. I can tell you all
about how fucked up I really am. Then you can run away like
everyone else.”

“
I don’t run away,” I tell
him. I suppose that’s not entirely true, since I ran away from
Derek, right to Jack. However, that was for a different reason. I’m
not going to forget everything I feel for this guy just because he
tells me something about himself. In fact, all I want is for him to
tell me something about himself. I want this to be more than a
little bit of fun, even if I don’t know for sure what I want it to
be instead.

“
You’ve never had anything
to run away from,” he says. I can’t argue, because he’s right. My
biggest life problem has been going to a different college from my
boyfriend. However, Jack doesn’t know that and he doesn’t need to
know that. Pretending that this is not the worst idea ever, I get
dressed and follow him to his bike. The weather is gorgeous and it
seems unfair considering that something is bothering Jack like it
is. Almost as if even the sun wants him to suffer. I rest my head
against his back as we ride, clinging to him and enjoying this
closeness, even if it scares him. I do not intend to change
him
, but I can change
the way he sees me.

I thought we were going to go to a
park or the river or something, but Jack pulls into the visitor
parking lot of the prison. I keep my mouth shut, following him; he
seems to know the guards well. They’re all friendly, but there is
an unspoken feeling of anxiety when they see us. I don’t know if it
comes from him or them; either way, it sends a chill through me.
Maybe Jack was right. Maybe I can’t handle this.

He takes my hand, which seems strange
until I realize it is as much for him as it is for me. His entire
body has grown tense and it worsens when the guards bring us into
an open room. A guard tells him he will be right back and we wait.
I say nothing, because there is nothing I can say. I can’t imagine
why we are here. Jack taps his foot and looks around him as if
someone will come out and attack him. Suddenly, he jumps up,
knocking the metal chair back a full foot and grabs my
hand.

“
This was a bad idea.
Let’s go.”

Stunned, I remain quiet but get up to
follow him. We are both standing there when the guard brings in a
man in his early 40’s. He looks at Jack and I see the resemblance
immediately; they have the same eyes.

“
It’s been a while,” the
man says.

“
I changed my mind. We’re
going.”

“
You can’t hate me
forever.”

“
I don’t know. I think
maybe I can.”

“
Someday, you’re going to
have to listen.”

“
There is nothing you can
say,” Jack spits back and then I’m being dragged outside. He
collapses back against the prison wall once we pass security and
again I’m afraid to speak. He catches his breath before he grabs me
and kisses me hard. Suddenly, I’m the one against the brick wall
and his hands are everywhere.

“
Not here,” I
say.

“
I need you,
princess.”

“
I know, and it’s fine.
Just not here.”

He leads me back to the bike. We ride
for a while, close to two hours; this time, he brings me to a small
house set at the end of a long dirt road. The yard is mostly dirt
as well, although there are a few patches of overgrown grass where
the dirt didn’t win. A rusted tricycle rests against the metal
fence that Jack opens, leading me up the steps and into the house.
The shingles are falling loose from the roof and the gutters are
clogged with leaves. Inside, an old woman is sitting on a faded
couch, reading a book. She looks up when we come in.

“
Grandma, I brought my
friend over. We’ll be in my room for a bit. I’ll introduce you
later.” Jack leads me downstairs into the basement, which is
furnished. A small room off the main room appears to be his. It
doesn’t look much different from his dorm room, except that there
is more stuff. It is also somehow more sterile, even though there
are posters on the walls and clothes and junk strewn
everywhere.

Jack wastes no time and pushes me onto
the bed. He pulls my pants off first and then his. I struggle to
get my shirt and bra off while he runs his fingers along my pussy.
I toss my clothes on top of a beanbag chair in the corner. Lying
back, I try to make eye contact with Jack, but he’s staring at the
wall above my head. He grabs my legs and pushes my knees back
against my shoulders, saying nothing as he enters me. His thrusts
are all rage and worry. What he’s doing doesn’t hurt, but his eyes
are dead. That does hurt and I try not to look at him as he fucks
me. I’m scared because this isn’t something I understand. It
doesn’t bother me if it helps him, but he feels so far away despite
being inside me. I just want him to tell me why he’s like this. He
comes quickly and rolls off of me. I try to reach out to him, but
he only moves further away.

“
Do you want to talk about
it?” I ask.

“
You couldn’t possibly
understand.”

“
Let me try.”

He turns to face me and there is anger
in his face that is far more terrifying than anything that he just
did to me. I tell myself that he won’t hurt me, but then I realize
I don’t even know that. I know nothing except that we’ve had fun
for a weekend. The reality frightens me, but I steel myself and
wait for his explanation. I want to be the kind of person who
doesn’t run away from someone who needs me, and Jack definitely
needs me. Even if he doesn’t want to.

“
You’re going to hate
me.”

“
I don’t think
so.”

“
Look, this is my shit
life,” he says. “I’m sure it’s nothing like Daddy buying you a BMW
for your sweet sixteen.”

“
I’ve never even owned a
car,” I reply. “I’m willing to listen to you, but you really need
to stop blaming me for whatever made your life suck or whatever.” I
get sick of him thinking I can’t understand because my life isn’t
complicated. I’m still a person and I may be unaware of a lot of
what goes on in the world, but I’m not empty. “I’m trying my best,
Jack.”

“
Maybe you
shouldn’t.”

“
You know what, Jack?
Fine. Let’s just fuck and the next time you get a phone call that
pisses you off, I’ll just leave. Easier than this.”

He stares at me a second and then
punches the wall next to him, making a hole in the drywall. He says
nothing as he reaches into his dresser, pulling out a small tub of
plaster and a putty knife. I watch him cover the hole and look
around the room; I hadn’t noticed before, but there are a lot of
similarly discolored spots on the walls.

“
Tell me what’s wrong,” I
say. “Please.”

“
I’m not ready for you to
hate me yet. For a few days, I almost thought there was a chance…”
He sits down next to me on the bed.

“
I thought you didn’t want
a relationship.”

“
I don’t. I just thought
that maybe you might not be the kind of person who wants to
sanitize her hands after spending ten minutes in a house like
this.”

I sigh. “I haven’t moved. Stop
assuming you know how I think.”

He softens. “I’m sorry, Lily. I’m just
used to people judging me.”

“
So you do it to
them?”

“
Fair point.”

“
It’s fine. Our lives are
different, that’s true. But you need to stop. I’m getting sick of
being insulted. I don’t know what’s happened to you and I might not
have had similar experiences, but that doesn’t mean I think less of
you. Give me a chance. I gave you a chance.” He clenches his hands
into fists again. “You’re making me nervous.”

“
I should make you
nervous. You saw what I will become.” He looks down at his clenched
fists, sad and broken.

“
I saw a man in a prison
and I saw you lose it. I don’t know who he is, why he was there, or
what you think it means for you. But I don’t think you
automatically become anything.”

“
That’s my
dad.”

“
Oh.”

“
Yeah.”

“
Well, that still doesn’t
mean anything.”

“
Maybe it wouldn’t if he’d
robbed a convenience store or sold drugs. However, what he did… It
doesn’t go away.”

“
What did he do?” I don’t
know if I should ask, but curiosity gets the better of
me.

“
He murdered my
mother.”

The silence between us fills the room.
For all of my understanding that people have different stories and
backgrounds, everyone I know is basically the same. I don’t come
from a world where things like this happen anywhere but in movies
or on the nightly news. There is nothing I can say, nothing I can
do. My entire sense of reality, of what’s normal, implodes around
me; the fragile shards of my ignorance cut me deeply. I tell myself
I need to say something – anything – but I can’t find the words.
Jack looks at me and I want to try. I want desperately to try.
Still, though, I say nothing. What was supposed to be a fun
weekend, a chance to disappear into a physical place, has become
something so much heavier all of a sudden. I should be upset that
it’s become this, yet somehow, this is exactly where I want to be
and I want to help him. I just don’t know how.

“
I can take you back,” he
says. He dresses, but I don’t move. I watch him put his clothes
back on, although the way down to his shoes, but I just remain
frozen and silent. It feels like abandonment to walk away from him,
but I also can’t seem to respond. I wish there was something I
could think of to say. I feel useless.

“
We can stay,” I finally
tell him, as if that is saying anything.

He sits back down on the bed and
starts talking. “When I was little, my parents fought like crazy.
My mom was an alcoholic and worse, although I didn’t really know
about drugs when I was a kid. Dad worked a lot. He was never home.
He probably had a girlfriend somewhere, but again, these are things
you don’t know when you’re younger. When they were home together,
though, it was terrible. I remember one time Mom was strung out or
something and she wouldn’t get off the couch. Dad kept telling her
that she needed to get up, to feed me. It was the summer and I’d
been wearing the same clothes for days. I ate when my friends’
parents would invite me in for lunch. At eight, it never occurred
to me how they looked at me with pity. I just thought it was great.
When my friends had to go in for dinner, or go take a bath, I could
just stay out all night playing. I used to hate when Dad came home,
because he would always make me clean up and he would give me a
curfew.”

He pauses, but I don’t speak. I don’t
think he wants anything but an ear right now. His hands knot the
sheet and he tries to remain stoic. I rest a hand on his leg,
trying to give him something in return.

“
She wouldn’t get up. He
was just screaming and she wouldn’t move. When she started to
laugh, he picked her up and threw her out into the driveway. He
told her not to come back until she got her shit together. I didn’t
see her for the rest of the summer. Eventually, the cops brought
her to us. She didn’t look any different. Nothing changed after
that. She didn’t even make empty promises that they would. We just
went right back into the routine. Dad almost lost his job that
summer because of her. He couldn’t be home, but someone needed to
watch me. If it wasn’t for my grandmother, he would’ve lost his
job, but luckily, she offered to take care of me.”

“
She’s your dad’s mother?”
I ask.

He shakes his head. “My mother’s. But
everyone knew what my mom had become. She wanted to help, since she
couldn’t help her own daughter. Everyone in town knew, everyone at
church knew, everyone at school knew. Everyone except me. Even if
they’d tried to explain it to me, I wouldn’t have understood. I
still loved her, despite it all. I didn’t know any better. I just
knew she was my mom. You have to love your mom, right?”

I don’t know how to answer that. I
love my mom, but my mom does my laundry and cooks huge meals for
our whole family and takes me shopping. She calls me and makes sure
I have everything I need. Even when she’s moody and we fight, she
has never been anything but fully committed to being my mom.
Listening to Jack’s story makes me both sad for him and grateful
for my own parents.

“
Anyway, that was just one
time. It was always like that. Maybe it was inevitable what he did,
but she was my mom. I can’t forgive that.”

I nod to show empathy, because words
just seem meaningless. I want to ask what happened, but it seems
heartless and a little crude. I wait for him to clarify, to give me
more insight into who he is. My entire life seems changed suddenly
because of Jack. I thought it was just fun, good sex to take my
mind off of Derek, but now, I don’t even feel like the same person.
I wonder how I could have changed so much in a few days. A few
hours even. I guess that’s what actually getting to know a person –
along with all of his baggage - can do.