70
ATTICUS & (THAIS)
Thais…
Thais…
Thais…Love…Where are you?
Were the words leaving my lips? Something prickled my face; something wet soaked through my clothes. Everything was black. I could hear a noise far off, like boots shuffling through grass, but why was everything so black? Why can’t I open my eyes? I heard muffled voices, two, one man and one woman; they were getting closer, but I still couldn’t open my eyes. And then once I felt the excruciating pain move through my back, I clenched my eyes tighter in response to it, and I knew then why I couldn’t open them. The sound, and the reality of the moment, rushed back into my mind with the pain that incapacitated me. “Ahh!” Within the blackness I saw silver streaks tearing through my vision. And then the blackness faded, and then I saw the bright blue of the sky blink on above me, and the crawling black branches of a tree all blur into focus when my eyelids finally broke apart.
“Thais…” Every word, every movement sent lightning through my body. Sweat drenched my face, and my neck, and my clothes.
But Thais didn’t answer. And I couldn’t see where she was. I tried to roll onto my side, but the pain pushed me back down; my face contorted, my arms went in a backward motion, instinctively looking to put pressure on the wound, but I couldn’t reach it; I couldn’t even tell where it was because it felt like it was everywhere. I tried again to roll over, determined to find her, but the pain was too great and all I could see was the sky and the tree and the tall grass prickling my face, and Marion and the dark-haired defiant girl I had assigned as Marion’s pupil, coming toward me.
The crunching of grass beneath Marion’s boots got louder. I closed my eyes again—I knew it was all over.
“It’s good to see you again, my friend,” Marion said, his tanned, leathery face smiling down at me with sickening delight.
Marion crouched.
“You know,” he went on, “I actually stopped looking for you about a month ago. Thought surely you were dead by now”—(My eyes followed the defiant girl as she went off by herself; I didn’t care about Marion’s monologue, I cared about where Thais was, and I knew that was where the girl was heading)—“But lo’ and fucking behold, there I was shooting an old man in the face at that camp, and I saw someone running.” Marion cocked his eyebrows thoughtfully, and with sarcasm. “Thing was, the person I saw running looked so fucking familiar, that even from far away I knew it was you.”
“Go fuck yourself,” I said, and my face contorted as I paid the price for the effort.
Marion smiled. And then he shrugged.
“Hey, if it was up to me,” he said, “I’d just take the girl and shoot you, put you out of your misery, but”—he shrugged once more—“well, I kinda have to kill you both. Those were my orders.”
All I could think about was my hands around Marion’s throat; all I could see was myself looking into Marion’s eyes as they bulged from his face and his skin turned red and purple and he gasped his final breath. But it was all I could do: think about it.
“She’s already dead,” I heard the girl call out.
I felt every ounce of strength I had left in me, leave my body in an instant; my rigid muscles relaxed and my locked-up bones came undone and I felt as though I were melting into the ground beneath me. Salt burned my eyes, blurred my vision. Just kill me, I told God in my mind. Just fucking kill me…
I looked up at the sky.
Just kill me…
I gritted my teeth, and I clenched my fists.
Just fucking kill me!
Did God hear me? Did God give a shit? God never gave a shit.
A shot boomed, and in slow-motion, I saw the girl’s dark hair tumble down, down, down.
Marion shot into a stand. But then he just stood there, a sadistic smile playing in his features; he looked back and forth between me and where the girl had fallen just a few feet away. I heard click-click-click-click and I knew why Marion was not running for cover, why he was walking toward Thais casually instead of with caution: the gun she shot the girl with was out of bullets.
Click-Click-Click-Click-Click
The noise stopped, and from the corner of my eye, I saw Thais’ bloodied hand fall and disappear behind the tall grass that concealed her.
No…Don’t you fucking touch her…
The earth moved beneath me; my head spun, my vision distorted; the rage pulsed inside my brain, lending it strength my body did not have. STAY AWAY FROM HER! I saw the black of Marion’s hair cover my face then, and I felt the sting of the back of his skull smash into my face as I speared him from behind. Marion and I fell to the ground and rolled over the tall grass like a steamroller.
I blacked out.
I saw my mother and my sisters; they were screaming at me: “They’re coming, Atticus! They’re coming!” my mother’s voice boomed in my ears. “Save your sisters! Save Josie and Tara! SAVE THAIS!” my mother screamed.
And then in a whirlwind of hair and flesh and faces, my mother and sisters disappeared, replaced by Evelyn’s bloodied and battered face. “You did what you had to do, Atticus,” Evelyn told me, and she reached out her hand. “Kill them all, Atticus. Kill them all!”
And then I saw Thais’ sister, sitting at the window overlooking the street, and when she turned her head to face me, a rope around her bruised neck, I saw that she had no eyes, just black, bottomless holes where her eyes had once been. And she reached out her hand. “You let me die, but don’t let my sister die. Don’t you dare let my sister die!” her white-blonde hair swished around her, and she vanished over the windowsill, replaced by Peter Whitman’s face, and the faces of his wife and daughters even though I had never met them, but I knew it was them, staring back at me with blame and hatred. But they didn’t speak. They didn’t need to. “Avenge our Peter,” their eyes told me. “You owe him that.”
I cried out, my voice carrying over the field. And the voices stopped, and the faces disappeared, and when I came to life again, I was straddling Marion’s battered body, and was covered in Marion’s blood; my chest heaved with violent breath; my arms were straight out at my sides, fists clenched. Blood dripped from my hands.
I looked down as my mind became my own again, and I saw what was left of Marion’s face.
I fell onto my side, and I crawled the few feet over to Thais, pushing through the blinding pain. I lay next to her, both of us bleeding to death, and together we looked up at the sky because we were too weak to turn our heads to look at one another. (I could feel his fingers touching mine; I tried desperately to hold his hand, but I could not move.)
“Do you…see it?” I said, my voice weak, strained.
“See what, my love?”
“The sun. It shines for you, Thais…you know that, right?”
“No…it…Atticus…”
“Everything the sun touches…it’s all…”—I tried to steady my breath—“…it’s all going to be yours someday. Do you…hear me? Thais?”
Three seconds later, Thais found the strength to answer.
“I…I’m still here, Atticus.” Every word was a terrible effort for her.
(I felt Atticus’ fingers inch closer to mine, felt the warmth of his skin moving along the inside of my hand, and even on the brink of death I was comforted by it.)
“Everything under the sun…it’s all going to be yours someday…It will, Thais, because you’re so…good and pure. And you can…change the world. You can tip the scales in…the right direction. Do you…hear me, Thais? Everything the sun touches…”
Five seconds later, Thais, once again, found the strength to answer.
“I…hear you…I love you…”
I fought to hold her hand, and I was so weak I could just barely get a grip on it. Don’t let go of me, love…don’t let go…
“Say it, Thais. Believe it. For me. For yourself. Believe it.”
“I…believe it, Atticus”—(I would have believed in my heart anything he told me.)—“Everything under the sun…will be ours.”
But I knew it would not be mine. I knew but I couldn’t tell her.
“You are my Light, Thais,” I whispered.
(“You are my Savior,” I whispered back, and the light above and all around me faded.)
“I will die for you,” I said. “I will kill for you; I will stain my hands with the blood of a thousand men for you.”
(“Will you…Atticus? Will…you?” The light blinked out.)
“Yes, Thais…Let me prove it. Live and let me…prove it.”
I felt her hand slacken.
I looked up at the calm, peaceful sky as a flock of birds flew overhead amid the encompassing blue. The bottled emotion ravaged me from the inside out, and it gushed forth in torrents, and I cried, and cried, unlike any man had ever cried.
“Please, Lord…I beg You, don’t take her life. Take me if that’s what You want, but don’t take Thais…”
What am I doing? Praying? No…No, I will never ask You for anything! My teeth ground together, and my head became hot like a flame, and I could feel my fists clenched in fury and vengeance. “Don’t You take her from me! You’ve taken everything else—DON’T YOU TAKE HER FROM ME!” I roared; my body shuddered, wracked by emotion; tears blurred my vision, burned my eyes. I hated God. I hated Him for killing the world, for killing my mother and my sisters and my brother. But not Thais…Please don’t take her.
Images of my life as a boy ran through my mind, a time without my abusive father, a time of innocence, a life filled with love and joy and family and hopes and dreams. I smiled. And I cried. And in my mind I laughed. And in my heart I forgave. “You didn’t do this…I know You didn’t do this,” I told God. “We did this. Humans killed the world. Men killed my family”—my chest shuddered—“I…I’m sorry. For everything. For blaming You. For hating You. I’m sorry…I’m sorry…”
My fists relaxed suddenly, and the heat in my head cooled, and the tears that burned my eyes and blurred my vision dried upon my face. I looked up at the sky again, at God, and the breeze brushed my cheeks and combed through my hair. Peace. It consumed me in that moment, though I didn’t know why. Is this what it feels like to die? I thought. Is this what it feels like to be dead?
I tried to reach for Thais’ hand, but I couldn’t move my own.
“Please…let her live…”
The sky blinked out.