Kim Karr: Mended

I’m standing at the perimeter of the stage, watching the end of the spectacular show, when I feel a tap on my shoulder and an unfamiliar voice asks, “Are you Xander?”

Without turning around, I give a cursory nod, not sure why she’s asking until she says, “There’s a woman in the bathroom who has asked me to tell you to get her husband and come right away.”

I whirl around and see the woman in uniform. “What’s wrong with her?”

“She didn’t say. I’m sorry. I have to get back to work.” The woman then turns and walks away, pushing her cleaning cart in front of her as she goes.

I look out onstage and River glances over, looking for Dahlia, I’m sure. I slice my finger across my neck, giving him the “cut it now” signal, and his smile instantly fades. His panicked voice trembles over the mic.

“Thanks, everyone!” He darts toward me. His eyes search mine on the way, but I don’t wait for him to cross the stage.

Heading toward the bathroom, I knock and open the door. “Dahlia?”

River pushes past me into the long rectangular room. “Dahlia, what’s wrong?”

“I’m not sure,” she cries as she swings one of the stall doors open. He rushes in and disappears behind it.

“Xander, call nine-one-one,” he yells.

“No, I don’t think I need an ambulance. It seems to have stopped. Let’s call my doctor first,” Dahlia nervously tells River.

His breath coming fast and hard, he does as she asks. I can’t quite make out what he’s saying because the toilet is flushing over and over. My pulse pounds louder than the sound of the running water as I wait to see what the hell is the matter. When I see his feet moving, I yell, “What’s going on?”

There’s fumbling behind the door, and then it opens and he carries her out. In a shaky voice he says, “We need to take her to the hospital. She’s bleeding. Take my keys and get the car.”

I’m sitting in the family care area waiting to hear how Dahlia and the baby are doing. My thoughts are drifting to seeing Ivy after so many years and how things could have been so different. When you believe a lie for so long . . . does it become the truth?

Behind my closed lids flashes a memory from twelve years ago. Looking back on it now, I think we were more like adults and less like sex-crazed teenagers. We had crossed the line from lust to love, from adolescent to adult. When we left my grandparents’ place that last day we spent there before graduation, the fractured afternoon light peeked through the clouds and I drove her home. I pulled over a good distance from where she lived. Dropping her off on the corner was something I really hated. But I understood. I had my own home issues, so who was I to talk? I’d had to bring my brother home and pick up my sister every day since my mother went back to work because my drunk of a dad couldn’t get a job. I couldn’t wait for the fall when Ivy and I would head to the University of Chicago together. Ivy got a free ride, my grandparents were paying for me, and we both got to get the hell out of LA.

As soon as I put the car in PARK, she bolted out. She didn’t even wait for me to open her door, which was a habit she knew I really hated, but I didn’t say anything. She leaned against the large black stripe of the hood as I approached her. Some kids were sitting on their stoops playing games, others were yelling and screaming, but I blocked all of that out as I caged her with my arms on either side of her and rested my forehead against hers. “I don’t think I’ll be able to meet you after school again at all the rest of the week. Tomorrow I have to pick up my cap and gown, Thursday is graduation rehearsal, and Friday is some kind of senior dinner.”

She wrapped her arms around my neck. “I know you’re busy. I can’t believe our ceremonies are both on Saturday. At least my mom said I could go to dinner with you and your family after graduation.”

Leaning into her, I circled my arms around her waist and kissed her lightly. “It’ll be our last day together before our summer trips, so I’ll pick you up as early as possible. Make sure your mom thinks you’re sleeping at Jody’s house.”

She kissed me and I leaned back to look at her. Her blond hair fell past her shoulders and she was smiling shyly at me. “It’s already arranged,” she said, flushing. A nervousness that I’d seen many times presented itself in her expression.

“What’s the matter, gorgeous?”

She broke away and in the quietest voice said, “I’m really going to miss you this summer.”

“I’m going to miss you, too. But, hey, we talked about this. It won’t be that long. The summer will be over before you know it and then we’ll be together.” I hugged her tightly, reassuring her.

“I know you’re right,” she whispered, and the sadness in her eyes broke my heart.

I had tried my best to get my mother to cancel or at least shorten my trip to my aunt’s. Since she called it my graduation present, I really thought I should have gotten to choose if I wanted to go or at least for how long. She hadn’t said I couldn’t, but she hadn’t said I could, either. I knew I would continue to work on her.

I kissed Ivy one last time and trapped her fingers in mine before she twisted away and broke the connection. She walked backward for a beat, then turned around and sashayed down the sidewalk toward her apartment building.

“I’ll call you tonight, sexy thing,” I yelled to her.

She turned, gave me one last heart-stopping smile, and blew me a kiss. She wouldn’t even let me walk her to her apartment building because she was afraid her mother would see her with me when she was supposed to be studying. So I waited on the corner until she reached her door. As soon as she did, she came rushing back. She threw her arms around my neck and whispered in my ear, “I hope you can call me because if you can I’ll practice what we’ve talked about.”

I stepped back and looked at her with what I knew was a sly, wicked grin. She was flushed on every exposed body part. “Really . . . ?” I asked.

“Yes,” she mouthed, her cheeks changing color from pink to red with that one unspoken word.

“Christ, just you saying it is so fucking hot.”

She kissed me, softly at first, then harder. “You better get out of here or you’re going to be late,” she said, and just as quickly as she had turned and come back to me, she was gone. Once she disappeared through the doorway, I got in my car and grinned for the longest time. Finally, I drove away and headed back to school to pick up River. I had to drop him off before picking up my sister, since my car didn’t have a backseat. I was late, and I already assumed I’d probably catch shit for it. As we walked into the house, I knew immediately something was wrong—Bell’s backpack and shoes were in the foyer. She was already home.

“Hello?” I yelled.

“Daddy, I can’t do it,” a small voice cried from the landing—it was Bell.

I began ascending the stairs. “Stay here,” I called over my shoulder to my brother.

I stayed silent as the wooden stairs beneath me squeaked.

“Don’t say you can’t. You can. You’re just not playing the right chords. Do it again,” my father said.

I bolted up the remaining stairs two at a time to the wide-open loft that acted as his music studio. Bell was sobbing and her fingers were bleeding. They were fucking bleeding . Seeing my little sister sitting there on a stool while my shaggy-haired, unshaven, drunken father barked orders at her triggered a rage I’d never felt before. I couldn’t take another minute of his drunken insanity—he wasn’t only ruining his own life, he was tearing ours apart.

He gave me a passing glance as he pointed to the chord he wanted my sister to strum. “You’re late,” he muttered.