Page 70 of Tracing Holland

It’s almost eerie how the horrible choir bleeds into total silence, but it’s unmistakable.When it’s clear that the distant sound of a lawn mower has replaced the taunts and accusations, I raise my eyes, tentatively at first, and meet theirs.It seems like each gaze is locked on mine, each face waiting to see what I do with the horrifying chaos just dumped on me.They’re breathing hard too.Some have tears, some still only display the resurrected fury, but we finally all agree on one thing.There are no more words.The words are out.The words are done.

“I’m sorry,” I say quietly.“I’m so sorry,” I breathe before disappearing down the steps and back to our car.

I breakdown the second I’m inside.I was probably stunned for most of what just happened, but as the full extent hits, it knocks everything out from under me.I have no idea what’s happening outside of this moment, or if I’ll even live through it.I can’t breathe from the sobs, pounding the seat with every bit of strength I have left in me.I don’t want to be here right now.I’d do anything to make this pain stop.I hate.I love.I fear, regret.God, everything is slamming into me all at once.

I just can’t fucking breathe!

And then, inexplicably, I’m not alone.A whisper of air slips into the stifling car as the door opens, followed by the soothing scent I’d recognize anywhere.A firm pressure tightens around my back, then my shoulders, then guides me against her.She pulls me tight, allowing my tears to stain her shirt, holding me as I shatter.I can’t even begin to speak or acknowledge what’s happened, what’s happening.I just survive.Survive this moment, like I’ve somehow managed to survive all the rest.

“I’m not going to say you didn’t deserve that, but you’re done now, Luke.You’re done, ok?”Holland whispers, only making the tears come harder.“Please let this be enough.Please.”She buries her head in my shoulder as we both hold on, waiting to see what time does to us.Where it leaves us when, if, it ever shows mercy.

“Why are you still here?”I cry, the words coming out in a muffled sob, but she only holds on tighter.“You shouldn’t be here.”

“Because that was incredible, Luke.You took your ugly and made it beautiful.You could have let Elena go and instead let her change you.Because I don’t know if I could ever be as strong as you’ve become.”She lifts my face and looks into my eyes.“Elena’s death is not your fault.She had an illness that took her life, but you still stood there and took their pain.”

“Pain I caused.”

“Some, maybe.And you’ve answered for it.You’ve paid.Now it’s time to honor her.”

I manage a numb nod, silent, exhausted.I’m just so tired all of a sudden.I close my eyes and concentrate on breathing, remembering, honoring, as I collapse against her again.She absently runs her fingers through my hair as we sit in the stillness, and I wonder if I can find a way to fall asleep and let the unconsciousness give me a brief relief from this nightmare.

I am chaos.Holland is peace.

“This is what I signed up for, Luke,” she breathes into the silence.“This is all I’ve ever wanted from you.”

I eventually pullmyself back together, though of course I can never undo my complete self-destruction in front of Holland.I expect the moment that follows to be awkward, but she seems as content as I am to sit in silence, cuddled against each other, staring out the window.She’s leaning against me now, my arm draped over her as she settles into my chest, my own back against the door of the backseat.It’s hard to believe that just a minute ago our universe was a chaotic firestorm and now we’re wrapped in a cozy cloud of peace.

Distant laughter slips into our silence, but it’s almost comforting in a way.Reminding me that as long as it still exists somewhere it might be real again for me one day.Holland traces my fingers, my hand, my wrist, as we sit, and I close my eyes, resting my head against the warm glass.

“I guess I’m an orphan now,” I muse into the stillness, and she squeezes my hand.

“I’m sorry, Luke.And I’m especially sorry that you had to find out that way.”

“She didn’t know her, Holland.My aunt didn’t know my mother.She only knew a baby sister that left thirty years ago.”

I can feel Holland react and open my eyes to meet her gaze as she turns.“Your aunt didn’t seem to have a lot of room for understanding that reality, what your life was like with your mother.”

I’m quiet again as more unwelcome memories return.Maybe it’s time for this one person to understand.“You know my mother never contacted me again after I left?”

Holland stiffens, staring at me in disbelief.I can see her look out of the corner of my eye, but I can’t return it.I continue focusing on a fly scaling the headrest of the front seat.

“What?Not once?”

I shake my head.“No.Not a birthday card, phone call, nothing.”

“Luke…”

I squint through the far window again.“I didn’t expect much, and yet she still managed to completely disappoint.She still managed to make sure I understood how little I mattered.I’ve been an orphan since I was fourteen.”

“I’m so sorry.”

I shake my head and finally look at her, willing her to understand.“I had music, Holland.That’s it.That’s all I had.”

She kisses me, then.Gently at first, then harder as I cup her face and unleash some of my own pent-up emotion.It feels so good, she feels so good, such a stark contrast to the hell I just went through.Our connection intensifies as we’re overwhelmed by our sudden need to heal the fresh wounds, fill the gouges with something beautiful.It’s almost like I can sense the pain melting away the more I breathe her in.

“Luke, someone might see us,” she whispers, and I sigh.

“I know.You’re right.”I pull back slightly and rest my forehead against hers, trying to catch my breath.She lifts my chin so she can meet my gaze.

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