Behind White Curtains

January 4, 2011
By RBartee SILVER, New Britain, Connecticut
RBartee SILVER, New Britain, Connecticut
5 articles 0 photos 9 comments

I looked through the glass and let my mind wander for a moment. I had a sudden hope that she might open her eyes and wink at me just one last time. Her chest was still, and calm, like an ocean would seem when you imagine it asleep. Yet regardless of her being dead, she still wore her same old mischievous smirk. I mentally fought to keep in the tears but they seemed to be pouring out like an overrun bathtub. I nodded curtly to the Medical Examiner; he pulled the white sheet over her face and closed the blinds shut, leaving me and Chris to ourselves. I assume that his way of attempting to comfort me was by putting his hand on my shoulder. I asked myself why I didn’t shrug him off, and the only answer was that I, Jesse Rockwood, needed some form of comfort. I tried not to give him much of an opportunity to say anything, but it all came out anyway. He opened his mouth a couple of times to talk, and then finally he said “Jess, I loved your Mom…and I”. I gave him a simple, “Shut the hell up” kind of’ look. He got the hint because he opened his mouth to say something, closed it and walked off with the pitiful expression of loss. I knew that he was gone because I could no longer hear the outline of his boots miserably scratch the floor with the nails of its heel with every step that he took. Somehow no matter how much I wanted to think that this was the end to my life, of my entire existence as a whole; I struggled with keeping the truth in the back of my head.
The truth: It was only the beginning.

Forward. Rewind. Play. Skip to next chapter. Stop. Play. Pause. I constantly went over these commands to my life memories. Menu. Chapters. Christmas of 1995. In my thoughts, my daydreams, I watched as my Mother tied my Superman cape to my back, picked me up and started swinging me around in circles pretending that I knew how to fly. I don’t ever think about this holiday, ever, at all. The reason is simple; it was our last real Christmas as just the two of us. “Jess!” I jumped out of my mind and realized that I was standing on a stage with about 15 people looking at me like I was an idiot. “Hello?” she said with her face about 5 inches away from mines. “Earth to Jess!” Hilary was standing next to me with a sword. “I just killed you,” she said. ”The script says that this is where you dramatically fall to your knees and die. Come on, quit kidding around. We’ve been over this. I had the sudden urge to be the a**hole that I’m claimed to be, and replied in a sarcastic tone and said, “Ah, ah, you killed me. Damn you.” And then I lightly sank to the floor feigning dead. Hilary didn’t like the response and decided to say, “You’re an a** Jesse!” with a personal bitterness etched into every word that she spat at me. A few of the members of the cast were pretty pissed off at my random behavior and decided to walk off calling me a variety of muffled insults as they stomped off of the stage.
I left the theatre and started taking the cold walk across campus to my car. Of all the crap that I owned my Mazda Rx8 was my most prized possession. I opened the door and threw my book bag against the passenger door window, and watched it slide onto the seat. I got in the car and immediately turned on the heat, setting my head back and enjoying the cracking sensation of my knuckles being pressed against the steering wheel. All the blood rushed from my legs and into my toes in a matter of seconds after my butt hit the seat. The clock said 9:36pm. I decided to close my eyes for a few seconds and was immediately engulfed into the vast universe of my mind.
“Hush little baby don’t say a word,
Momma’s gonna’ buy you a mockingbird.
And if that Mockingbird don’t sing,
Mommas gonna buy you a diamond ring.”
Pause. Have you ever heard someone say “Geez’, they sing like an angel?” Well, my Mom had a voice ten times better than that. Play.
“How much do you love your Mommy?” She asked.
“This much Mommy,” I responded extending my arms as wide as they would go.
She laughed the most beautiful laugh then said “You’d better, kiddo!”
I then gave her a tight hug and asked the same question. She responded by saying
“More than any other Mommy in the world can love her baby.”
I fought my eyes to open before being blinded by the orange glow of my dashboard. The clock said 11:49. S***! So much for studying I guess, right? I rubbed my eyes, changed the gear to D1, and took the shortcut home; going down Farmington Avenue and by the Hospital. As I pulled into my driveway I saw the black Charger that Chris drove parked on my curb, and a green Civic parked parallel to it. My initial thought was to turn around and rent a room at the Marriot Hotel. But too late, he’d already started getting out of the car. I had no choice but to shut off my engine and spark a conversation with my late Mother’s fiancé. As he walked toward me with open arms, I noticed that he still wore his engagement ring. In that moment I felt some remorse for the guy. During my lack of “A**hole Tendencies” he noticed that I hadn’t shrugged him off and so he tightened his embrace. The first thing he asked was
“How yah’ been kiddo?”
What was I to say, “Uhh, s*****”? I didn’t think that that was a reasonable response and gave him a decent one by saying,
“Okay I guess. How about you?”
“I’ve been alright, but then again I’ve been better too. How’s school going?” He asked with a dull face.
“It’s alright,” I said “But then again it’s been better.” He thought that that was pretty funny and started laughing hysterically. “Ya’ know, I almost forgot what a smartass you were”. In my attempt to keep the mood going I forced out a chuckle or two myself. It was pretty cold outside, so I invited him in.
“Naw. Not tonight Jess, I just wanted to stop by and check up on you” He said with awkwardly. He gave me a fatherly “fist pound” and started walking back to his car. He must’ve noticed that the first hug was lucky, that a second was just out of the question. He looked over his shoulder at me and said “Deporta bien” with a really bright smile that made the wrinkles on the corners of his eyes pop out. It was one of the few things that my Mother taught him to say in Spanish.
“Y cuando no soy?” I said with an ear to ear grin.
He looked at me with his head tilted to the left, lifted his right eyebrow, and said “Huh?”
“Never mind” I chuckled out. He began to twist his body towards his car, and as he began to walk away the words fell out of mouth as if gravity had hold of them;
“Hey Chris, gracias por todo.”
He raised his both of his eyebrows and said, “For what?”
I gave him the only honest answer there was. “For being a Dad.”
He forced the corner of his lips to fold up, looked me directly into the eyes and said, “No problem kiddo, don’t be a stranger. Got that Mr. Hollywood?”
“Sure thing Chris” I replied.
He continued to look me in the eyes, almost as if he was trying to tell me something with his eyes alone. Before anything else could get too weird I broke the eye contact, and decided to run up the steps, shove open the door and slam it before Chris could get my attention to say anything else. Walking to my room, I could hear the shower on down the halI. I changed in the dark, and was walking towards my bed when I saw a shadow of light hit the floor in front of me. It disappeared along with the sound of the door shutting. A gentle, small, damp hand had found its place on my shoulder, and was followed by someone’s skull being pressed against the back of my neck. I found myself pushing thoughts away from my mind; and thought only of her gray eyes and tender lips. I turned around placing my arm around her shoulder and sliding my head so that it was leveled with hers. We looked into one another’s eyes, and from there, I went to a place outside of my head, outside of my daydreams. She took me into a land of unconditional affection, a land of physical paradise: the land of ecstasy.

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This article has 3 comments.

Taziah. said...
on Jan. 8 2011 at 11:21 am
amazingly amazing, it is so touching and shows the true feelings of someones loss.

RBartee SILVER said...
on Jan. 8 2011 at 12:22 am
RBartee SILVER, New Britain, Connecticut
5 articles 0 photos 9 comments
Because its a chapter in my book :) Theres alot more to the story than just this snippet.

Markus SILVER said...
on Jan. 7 2011 at 8:06 pm
Markus SILVER, Boulder, Colorado
6 articles 0 photos 20 comments

Favorite Quote:
"He who is not willing to die for something is not fit to live" MLK

I like it, but why does it end so suddenly? 


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