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Don't Let Me Go by Glenna Maynard (15)


  I am feeling more curious about Cutter. I feel like there is so much he is keeping from me. But then again maybe he is just really a poor college kid, and that is perfectly fine. If it weren’t for the money I receive from Doc, who knows what I would do. My Gram has money, but she isn’t rich by any means, and I can’t go through life depending on others to support me.

“Do you like it?” Cutter takes the paper rose from the stand and hands it to me. “A beautiful rose for my beautiful rose.” He laughs, and so do I. He is so cheesy sometimes, but it is a cute cheesy.

“Do you make these? It is awesome.”

“Yeah, I used to make them with my little sister—Carson. She was always into crafts. I was always in charge of watching her after school. She was a good kid, as long as I took part in her latest hobby.” He has a sad look on his face. And he won’t look me in the eye as he is talking.

“You said was, what do you mean she was a good kid?”  I take his hands in mine as a tear rolls down his cheek. 

He wipes his cheek with the sleeve of his now signature blue hoodie. “My sister, she was taken. I don’t know if she is alive or dead. I was supposed to be watching her, and I was for a while. One of the neighbors knocked on the door, she was an older lady. She asked if I could move a chair for her. She said it would only take a minute. Carson asked me if she could write on the sidewalk with her new chalk.” Another tear falls from his face.

I squeeze his hand to let him know it is okay to take his time telling me. It’s my turn to be here for him, to be good for Cutter. He looks like he is hurting so bad, and I want to take his pain away. I wonder if this is how he feels when he looks at me.

“I didn’t think much of it at the time. I was only fourteen and she was eight. My mom worked as a bank teller and she never got home until after six in the evenings. My dad was working as a cross-country truck driver at the time, so he was only home once a month at the most. Anyways, I told Carson it was fine, just not to wander off. I walked into the lady’s house and before I even realized it thirty minutes had passed, because the old woman couldn’t make up her mind where she wanted the chair. I went back home, and Carson had vanished. I searched the whole neighborhood.”

He pauses trying to stop his tears.

I simply hold his hand in mine taking it all in, wishing I could absorb some of his pain.

“The police questioned everyone on the block, no one seen or heard a thing.  My mother has never forgiven me. They even considered me a suspect for a while because I was the last person to see her, but my neighbor did see her drawing on the sidewalk before we went inside of her house. So, her story matched with mine, and she had no reason to protect me. I would never have hurt my sister. I loved that kid.”

I hug him close and run my fingers through his hair as he lies in my lap and cries. I am not sure what else to do.  He sits up beside of me and opens up to me a little more.

“So, you see, Bella. I know how it feels to suffer an unimaginable loss. To hate yourself and to want to die. When I saw you, I saw a part of me.  That’s how I recognized your sadness.  And I just knew it was fate that we crossed paths. You have saved me too, Bella, you just didn’t know it, until now. It might sound crazy, but something tells me that Harlan never loved you the way that I could. Don’t be angry, but Brianna told me some of the things he put you through, and I just want you to know what it's like to be loved by someone good. So that if you decide to make the jump, that you can say you have lived and been truly loved by someone who loved you.”

When he talks like this I can’t breathe, I can’t think.

“But know this, if you jump, I will never forgive you, and I will follow you off that damn bridge... I would follow you to the ends of the earth. Please be mine, be happy with me, Bella.” His eyes are a sea of emotions. Love, desire, and promises of tomorrow, holding so much more than I can ever offer him.

“I need a minute, Cutter you just dropped a lot of information on me.” I start pacing the room. Is he saying he loves me? And fuck that pisses me off. Brianna has no right telling him these things.  It is just so much, I mean I feel awful about his sister, but I knew this would happen. He isn’t supposed to fall in love with me.

“Just hold on—pump those love brakes. You will not be jumping off any bridges, let’s get that straight right now. I just need time, Cutter. Be patient with me. I…I.  Do you have a picture of your sister?”

I need to change the topic back to him and take his focus off loving me and following me to the end of time, or whatever it was, he was saying. I don’t want to let him go, but I am not ready to be loved by anyone, when I don’t even love myself. I am a horribly selfish person. I don’t want him to give up, yet, but only because I don’t want to be alone.

He pulls out his wallet and shows me the last school picture that was taken of his sister.  She has the same color of dark hair as Cutter. Her hair is in two braids and she is wearing a Hello Kitty shirt.

Then it hits me, I have seen his sister’s photo before. I am not sure where, maybe on the news. He did say he lived in Mason that is only a short drive north of here. I am sure it was the news.  The picture is bent and worn. You can tell he has carried it around for a long time.

I snuggle back up in his arms on the sofa, content in just being her for now. I fall asleep listening to Cutter telling me all about Carson, and how much the not knowing what happened to her kills him. At least I know Harlan is gone, I mean, I know our losses are so different but yet our pain is the same. Now I know why he understood about my cutting.  Before my eyes snap shut, I notice a faint scar on his right wrist.

So, Cutter used to cut himself. And now I am curious about his real name. I bet Cutter is a nickname. 

Who are you really, Cutter?

*—*

I am in a rush to meet Dr. Peters at the falls. I am running so behind, I didn’t sleep for shit. I kept having nightmares about being at the falls the day of the accident, but only this time it was Cutter’s sister I was seeing fall from the cliff.

I should have gone home after the first dream, but I couldn’t leave Cutter by himself. He was so sad. He needed me to stay. It was nice to feel needed—wanted. It feels good to know that he was comforted by my simply being with him. I am afraid I have gotten in too deep with him. I care a lot more for him than I ever anticipated or intended to. I don’t know what I am doing with him.

I get myself untangled from the vice grip he is holding me in and slip out the door without waking him.

I totally have ninja skills

When I get in my apartment, I barely have enough time to change my shirt. Thank goodness, I have a car because I have already missed the bus.  I put on my Grinch Who stole Christmas shirt; it is one of my other favorites. And no, I don’t care that I am wearing it before Thanksgiving or Christmas.

I put my favorite collection of Bob Dylan hits on and light up a cigarette as I make the fifteen minute drive to the falls listening to Sugar Baby on repeat. Dr. Peters is already waiting for me in the parking lot; he is checking his watch as I pull in beside of him. The marina gift shop is closed this time of year. Damn, I really need some coffee.  But guess I will have to wait, ugh.  I should have woken Cutter and had him make some of the good stuff. Damn him and his orgasm in a mouth laced coffee, I would do just about anything to get my hands on a cup.

No sense in putting off the inevitable, I am ready to face this today.  I take a hair tie out of my bag and pull my hair into a twisty knot on top of my head. I didn’t even get the chance to run a brush through it. I cannot wait to get a shower.

We quietly walk to the scene of the accident. Luckily, I had left my camera in the car yesterday or I would have forgotten the key to today’s session. 

The leaves are crunching under my feet, the frost this morning almost looks like snow covering the ground. I let out the breath I have been holding since I arrived here, and I can see my breath in the air. We get to the spot that has claimed so many of my sleepless nights. I can almost feel the ghost of yesterday laughing at me. I feel like the devil has been playing a sick game with me all my life, and God has let him.

“Are you ready, Bella, or would you like a moment?”

Biting the inside of my lip until it bleeds, I slowly bring my camera up to my face. I close my eyes for a moment and then I look through the lens.

“Tell me what happened the day Harlan died,” the soothing tone of Dr. Peter’s voice fades.

I allow my mind to fully go where I haven’t allowed it to for over a year now.  I am back in the moment.  It is August and I am at the falls. I am wearing my black bikini and Harlan is wearing a pair of yellow board shorts.

Harlan has just thrown me in the water. I am pouting at him, even though I am really laughing on the inside. I just want him to feel bad and try to make me stop pouting. He joins me in the water and kisses the edge of my mouth. I turn my face away from him, still pretending to pout.

“What can I do to get that scowl from your face?” He flashes his handsome smile at me.

“There.” I point to the highest rock in the falls. “I want to get a picture of you jumping off Dead Man’s Rock.”

I sulk and swim back to shore. I dry off with my pink towel and take my camera from my bag. I snap some pictures as he joins me in the shade of the pines.

“Give me a kiss for good luck.” He wraps his arms around my waist and pinches my butt as he places his lips on mine.

“No, you will get your reward after you complete the jump.” I shove his lips from mine with my hand, like kissing him is the last thing I want to do. I knew he would be fine. He had jumped from that rock many times before. It was like a rite of passage for the boys who live in this town. It makes them a man to complete the jump.

He brushes the rejection off and laughs as he begins the hike up to the cliff. I ready my camera. A few minutes later, he emerges up top. “Any last words for me,” he calls down to me.

“Good luck.” I blow him a kiss. He reaches out to catch my kiss.

The next thing I know he gets his foot caught on a tree root and he loses his balance. The memory is playing out like a movie through the lens of my camera.

“Harlan,” I scream out his name as I watch and hear his skull crack against the cliff. I watch frozen in fear as his body hits the water like a sack of potatoes.  After the shock wears off I drop my camera and I rush into the water looking for his yellow shorts. I can’t see any sign of him anywhere.

I dive down deeper and deeper until I can no longer hold my breath. I reach out my arms in every direction, but I can’t find him. Seconds pass, yet they feel like years as I make my way back to the surface of the water. I can’t save him if I drown. I have to fight for Harlan.

A huge wave comes rolling over my head from the rushing of the falls. I am pulled under by the current. I panic and flail my arms and legs out, and by some miracle, I come to at the shore. I don’t remember getting out of the water. It’s as if I have blacked out, there is a gap in my memory that I can’t recall. I just remember waking up on the rocks and sand.

Water is spouting out of my mouth as I cough and blink my eyes. For a moment, I thought Harlan had pulled me from the water. I thought he was leaning over me trying to get me to breathe. However, when I regain full consciousness he is nowhere to be found and I remember him falling into the water.

It is that moment I realize I have to go for help. I run barefoot to the marina and scream at anyone who will listen that I need help.  My feet are bloodied and have splinters and rocks digging into the soles of them. My legs are burning from running so hard and fast. I have run over three miles through the woods. But it doesn’t matter. All I can think of is getting back to Harlan.

I have to save him.

He needs me.

A wildlife officer had to cuff me to a chair to get me to calm down.  After answering the same questions repeatedly, repeating my never changing answers, after they called off the search for the day, I felt that he was dead. Something inside of me knew. I knew I would never be with Harlan again.

Not in this life. 

I can remember my Gram coming into my room and telling me the news I knew was coming, the dive team had found Harlan’s body three miles downstream from the falls. It’s all my fault, was all I could say to anyone who tried to talk to me. The next few days were a complete blur. I faintly recall going into the bathroom and taking a handful of my Gram’s sleeping medicine.

I am brought back to the present by Dr. Peters shaking my shoulders, telling me to snap out of it and focus on the sound of his voice.

I didn’t even realize that I have been crying the ugliest of cries. I am talking snot bubble crying. My whole body is shaking. I am not sure if it is because of my nerves or because I am so cold.  I regain control of my body and my breathing begins to regulate itself.  I take a tissue from my bag and wipe my tear stricken face.

“Look through the lens again, Bella, and tell me what you see.”

“I see the water.” A smile spreads across my face. “I no longer see the ghost of Harlan.” I feel bittersweet about it. He is so much a part of me, but at the same time, I know I need to accept his death. It is time to let him go. I need to let go of the pain. 

Can I let go of the pain while holding on to my memories?

I don’t know, but I have to try.

I think Harlan would want me to.

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