Page 84 of Ruse
“It was the day he went to your father with the information about the girl, about your sister. He felt sick when he left, unsure of what he’d just done, but he wanted to be the one to tell me himself, in case your father didn’t pay him, and the truth came out. We had a nice conversation about what it meant to him, and I know things turned out differently Phoenix, and I won’t ask you to forgive him if you are not ready to, but I saw it in his eyes darling, hiding behind the mask of bravery and anger, deep within him, past the vengeance that fueled him and the promise of justice, I saw the love he has for you.”
“I don’t know if I could ever forgive him, mama. He hurt me. I’ve never felt this betrayed.”
“I know darling and I’m not one to push you to feel something you don’t. You have to be true to yourself Phoenix, but that also means opening yourself up to failure, to heartbreak. You don’t want to end up like me, a woman who couldn’t stand up for herself against it. A wise woman once said,grief is the price we pay for love. She was the Queen of a great kingdom, and she ruled it with not only her mind but also with her heart. Sometimes we’re afraid to lead with our hearts in fear that they may be broken, but if they weren’t capable of breaking, then they wouldn’t be real. And if the person who breaks your heart, can also be the one to mend it, well we can’t ask for a more perfect paradox.”
Suddenly Cassandra comes barging into the room, her eyes bloodshot, and the look on her face, the look of someone who’s just heard the most tragic news, or seen the most gruesome crime, sends a wave of terror through my body.
“Cassandra, what’s going on? Why are you entering that way?”
“Elaine, Phoenix…” she pauses as if the words are lodged in her throat and she can’t get them out. It’s like I instantly know what it is. A premonition, I guess you could call it that stupid connection we're supposed to have, twin telepathy or whatever. I know that’s why she’s barged in looking like she’s seen a ghost. “Brooklyn,” she mutters, unable to finish her sentence.
“What happened to him?” My blood drops to my feet at her reluctance to speak, standing there without responding to us, making us worry more than we already are. “Where is he, Cassandra?” I shout at her, standing from the bed and walking over to grab her by the arms.
My mom rushes to her feet. “Who dear, oh god what’s happened?”
“It’s Brooklyn, there’s been an accident.”
* * *
The moment Cassandrasaid his name, it was as if a wave of fear washed over me, paralyzing me and rendering me unable to feel. I was numb, some would call it shock, but on the contrary, I could feel everything, hear every sound coming from the hospital monitors, hear every hushed whisper, every scream when they caught sight of him, but I couldn’t do anything about it. I didn’t react, I just sat there at his bedside blankly staring at how bloody, bruised, and vulnerable he looked.
“He’s lost a lot of blood and has plenty of broken bones that are going to lead to a long and painful recovery. The tox report came back and the levels of alcohol in his blood were two times over the legal limit. There were other traces of amphetamines and illegal substances. The cops are outside and would like to speak with the two of you.”
My mother falls back onto the chair by the door, sobbing into her hands. “My baby, oh God. Look at what you did to him Austin.”
“What I, did to him?” my father shouts irate. “You’re the one that tried to kill herself and had an addiction to painkillers your whole life. I wouldn’t be surprised if you took them while pregnant too. He’s like this because you got shipped off to rehab…”
“Fuck you Austin,” my mother sneers, and suddenly Dr. Jacobs looks like he’s going to be the one needing medical attention. He leaves the room surely going to ask for help or call in those cops who were waiting outside. “And tell me, why did I need the painkillers? Why did I try to end my suffering? You don’t get to throw it all on me. I take responsibility for my part in it but you Austin, you are the one who had the affair. You’re the one with the illegitimate child, you are the one who was supposed to be protecting him, and now look what’s happened.”
“Both of you just stop!” I cry out, flipping over the hospital tray beside Brooklyn’s bed. The cups and pitcher of water the nurse brought it earlier come crashing down on the floor, breaking into pieces. “Can’t you see what the fighting, the secrets, all of it has done to him?” I look back at my brother who’s lying in the hospital bed with a concussion, six broken ribs, a broken arm, his throwing arm, and his right leg fractured in three different places.
That quiets them down long enough for me to breathe, but instead of staying and apologizing, my father exits the room, slamming the door behind him.
“Oh dear, he’s going to be okay,” my mother says, coming to my side to comfort me.
I scoff, shaking my head in disagreement. “He’s going to be alive, but you heard the doctor. He won’t ever play football again. Brooklyn won’t be okay. Football was his life, the only thing stopping him from disappearing completely. And now that’s gone.”
At the same moment my mother releases me, Donovan enters the room, her eyes swollen from all the crying she’s done in the last six hours since we arrived. Brooklyn was brought in early this morning at about three o’clock, after driving headfirst into the center divider of the highway. His Rover flipped three times before hitting a brick wall. It took twenty minutes before someone showed up at the scene, another ten for the paramedics and ambulance to arrive and nearly three hours for them to notify my father. Once they did, Daphne texted Dee when she couldn’t get a hold of me and somehow Donovan realized I was at Cliffside visiting my mother so she’s the one that called and informed Cassandra.
It took me forty-five minutes to get to the hospital once Cassandra informed us and driving here with my mother panicking in the passenger seat beside me is all a blur. He had just gotten out of surgery to stop the internal bleeding from his spleen rupturing on impact, and now he’s lying motionless in an induced coma until they can get the swelling down and avoid him going into cardiac arrest from the pain.
Suddenly as I watch my brother look helpless in a hospital bed moments ago on the brink of death, everything that’s occurred in recent months seems inconsequential. Meaningless when those you care about the most are whom you almost lose for good.
Tragedy quickly puts things into perspective for so many, and this right here, my brother’s accident, my mother’s attempted suicide, it’s shown me that life’s too short, time is too precious to dwell on the past and waste the future fighting and hating those who’ve maimed us. I don’t forgive my father for all he’s done, especially since he is one of the main reasons Brooklyn is lying in this hospital bed fighting for his life, but I no longer hate him. I’m better than that.
As for Maverick, who I haven't heard a word from since he left the house late last night, well there are so many things I’d say to him if he were with me right now.
“How are you?” Dee asks, coming up beside me and taking my mother’s place in the room. Since he’s in the ICU, they’re only letting in two people at a time and since I’ve refused to leave the room, everyone else has been taking turns.
I squeeze her hand as she squeezes my shoulder. “Ask me again tomorrow, Dee, because right now, I don’t even know who I am.”
Dee wipes her tears on my shirt, and I almost want to yell at her for being so gross, but I don’t have it in me to, not when she looks even more broken than I do seeing my brother like this. “He’s going to get through this Phoenix, he has to. Brooklyn is the strongest person I know despite how he’s been hiding behind his pain recently.
I nod, unable to say anything more. I’m exhausted, in pain, and just tired of always being so angry and sad. For once I wish to be happy, truthfully happy. Just yesterday I believed I was, but in a matter of seconds, the curtain was pulled back and reality crept back in.
“Okay don’t hate me,” she says, speaking into the crook of my neck.
“What did you do Donovan?” I mutter, turning toward her, but my question is quickly answered when I hear the door of the room open and close.
