Vixen

Dead at the Mall

His body was cold, ice cold. Not at all the way had she remembered it. In all her memories, he was never that cold. It didn’t matter if he was happy, sad, or scared living flesh just didn’t hold those temperatures. He’s dead, she whispered to herself. But he couldn’t be dead. She’d known him practically her whole life. He tutored her in Italian. He taught her how to play the guitar. He was her best friend.  And as she stood over his corpse she knew without a doubt that it was true. He was gone and he wasn’t coming back, at least not in this life. 

The two EMTs picked him up off the mall floor and strapped him to the gurney, while she sat silently watching as her first love was taken directly to the morgue.

***

“Scarlett, we just don’t understand. Can you tell us what happened,” her mother, the petite blond, asked.

“I told you I don’t know,” Scarlett replied her voice barely above a whispered. Why did they keep talking? Couldn’t they see she was in pain? Couldn’t they hear her trying ever so desperately to keep the tears from falling down her face?

“Well, what were you guys doing,” her mom asked still trying to suck information out of her. Her boyfriend was just announced dead and her mom wanted to talk about it. She watched them lift his lifeless body into the ambulance and she hadn’t shed a tear. She didn’t want to discuss it. She refused to believe, but the more her mom spoke the harder it was to pretend that tomorrow they’d spend their Sunday watching early morning cartoons.

“We were at the mall. He said he was dizzy so I went to get smoothies,” she replied struggling to keep her eyes dry.

“Did you know he was sick,” her mom asked.

Did she know he was sick? Yes. But she didn’t think it was serious. He kept brushing her off every time she brought it up, so she did what he did. She pretended. The changes were something no one would notice, no one except her. It wasn’t physical. No coughs. No headaches. Nothing. He just wasn’t there some times. They’d be sitting there and he’d blank out, completely. When he came back, he would have gaping holes in his memory. His mother’s name, his birthday, it was all forgotten. She feared one day soon he’d forget her. She remembered the first time it happened.

***

They sat side by side in the dark classroom. The only light came from the documentary Mr. O’Connor had them watching, when he should’ve been teaching. Mr. O’Connor never taught. But Scarlett wasn’t complaining. Patrick held her hand in his soothing her by rubbing his thumb in circular motions over her palm.

Halfway through the class period he stopped. At first she was a little disturbed, she was almost certain that that motion alone could’ve put her to sleep. Then she turned to look at him. Was something wrong? She wanted to ask but she knew he wouldn’t talk to her until this class was over. Even though Mr. O’Connor’s class didn’t consist of lessons and class work, he did put in grades. Mostly based on showing up, but a small portion was dedicated to being quiet.

She placed the hand he abandoned on his lap, in hopes to get his attention. Nothing. He didn’t so much as look her way. He just remained still, staring straight forward at the screen.

When the bell rang, he jumped. “Scarlett,” he whispered.

“Yea,” she replied standing up from her chair. He shook his head as if regaining his thoughts and just like that he was Patrick again. Mr. O’Connor’s class was there last of the day.

She sat in the passenger seat of his car. “Hey, do we have to pick up Joe, today,” she asked while he adjusted his self.

“Who,” he said sliding into the driver’s seat.

“You know your little brother? Yay high,” she said indicating 5 feet, “dark brown hair like you, green eyes, obnoxiously preppy ten year old.”

He went silent, his blue gray eyes filled with confusion as his forehead wrinkled as if he was in deep thought. He saw Joseph every single day in his life. She thought he was kidding. But he wasn’t. He had actually forgotten his little brother’s existence.

***

“Scarlett! Scarlett,” her mother was screaming for her attention.

She looked up from her shoes and into at her red faced mother and the first tear fell. Then they just kept coming, there was no stopping them. Her mother’s face softened as if she just realized that maybe Scarlett was in pain too.

“Do you need anything, Sweetheart?”

She shook her head no. Then spoke, “Can I sleep with you tonight?”