Call Me Crazy (35 page)

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Authors: Quinn Loftis,M Bagley Designs

BOOK: Call Me Crazy
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The knocking comes
, but only once. I hear several voices and know that there is more than just my mom and Trey talking at the front door. The murmuring goes on for a few moments, and I hear the deep timber of Treys voice, but I can’t make out his words.

The talking ceases
, and I begin to hear footsteps on the stairs. I feel my body growing tense as I begin to hope, and yet, dread at the same time that Trey might open my door.

There is a soft knock
, and then Dr. Stacey’s voice comes through, “Tally, can I come in?”

I frown at the door. She told me I had three days.

“Yes, you can come in,” I tell her. She opens the door just enough to squeeze through and I wonder what or who she is trying to keep from me. Once the door is closed, she walks to the bed, and takes a seat next to me. She seems nervous, and ruffled. These are two words that have never described Dr. Stacey, before, until today.

“I have some very difficult news Tally.”

My heart sinks, and I feel the color drain from my face. I can’t handle anymore. I just can’t handle anymore.

“Candy has passed away.”

I feel the world drop out from under me. How can this be happening? What the hell have I done to deserve such horrific tragedies?

“I don’t think she ever told you, but she had cancer. It started in a lymph node in her breast and quickly spread. She chose not to have chemotherapy
, because the doctors weren’t very sure it would prolong her life any. She didn’t want to spend her last months too sick to live. Zeke found her in her bed this morning.”

I don’t know what it is about utter despair that makes me need to vomit
, but for some reason that seems to be an automatic response. I lunge for the trash can next to my desk knowing I will never make it to the bathroom. The retching of my stomach pushes loud gasps from my chest and tears, that I’m so sick of crying, begin, once again, to make my cheeks their home. I hear my door open, but don’t turn to see who it is. I know who it is the minute his hand touches my neck. I don’t hesitate as I turn, and throw myself into his arms.

I don’t know how many times a person can be crushed and ripped to pieces. I fear that I just might die
, as I gasp for breath between sobs. Trey’s arms tighten in an attempt to hold me still. He shifts me, and when he sets me on his lap, I know he must be sitting on my bed. I bury my face in his neck and wrap my arms around him. Over and over, I breathe in his scent, but the comfort I usually find isn’t there, not this time. The hole Candy’s death has left in me is too deep for any comfort.

“I’m here baby, I’ve got you.” I hear his voice
, and his chest vibrates against mine as he speaks. I cling to the sound. I am so desperate for any part of him. The longer I cry, the longer I think of the loss, and the angrier I become. I want to scream and punch something. I need to hurt physically to cope with the emotions, but I know that isn’t the right way to deal with it so instead I sink deep into my love’s arms, and let him rock me and stroke my hair and back. I squeeze my eyes closed tightly and eventually the tears exhaust me, and I feel myself allowing the darkness to swallow me.

Before I’m completely gone
, I reach for consciousness and whisper, “I love you.”

“I’m not going anywhere love, rest now.” He lays us down, me on my side and him behind me. He wraps his body around mine and pulls me back against him. I feel his breath on my neck as I drift off and I try to focus on that
feeling instead of the knowledge that I will never see Candy again.

 

I awake to a strong arm holding my midsection and for a moment I start to panic. Then I remember that Trey is with me, that he came in after Dr. Stacey told me ... I freeze my mind before I let the thought go any further. I’m not ready. I need a moment without the blur of tears, and the chest tightening sobs.

I feel Trey stir behind me and lay my arm over the one he has across my midsection.

“How are you?” His voice is gravely from sleep, and I imagine what it would be like to wake up to that voice every day.

“I’m tired. I’m just so very tired.”

“I’m so sorry baby. I know what she meant to you.”

I turn so that I’m lying facing him. He looks exhausted and I know it’s my fault. I did that to him and for what? All the tears, pain, and despair that came with the decision to try and push away the best thing that ever happened to me.

“It doesn’t feel real. As stupid as it sounds, I just never thought she would die. She always seemed so invincible, so capable. I just can’t imagine a world without her.” I look at his face and see the expression I’ve come to know as his listening face, and it’s one of the many things I adore about him. He doesn’t just listen to me, he hears me.

“She was definitely one of a kind,” he smiles a small crooked smile and I imagine he is remembering some of the things she said and did. He was right, there was no one like Candy
, and I doubt there ever will be.

“My parents know you’re up here with me?” I ask
, suddenly realizing that I’m lying with a guy in my room with the door closed.

“Yes,” his face is suddenly stern. “Your father didn’t want to let me in
, but your mother insisted that he allow it. Dr. Stacey arrived at the same time I did. She told me what had happened and there was no way in hell I was leaving you.”

“I’m glad you were here, that you’re here now.”

“You’re going to be okay Tally.” He says it with such conviction, I want to believe him.

“I wish I knew that to be true.”

~

Trey has to leave after being with me for nearly twenty four hours. Candy’s funeral is tomorrow and he’s promised to pick me up
. As I watch him drive away, I know that tomorrow can’t come soon enough.

I spend the day alternating from tears and grief to anger and despair, sometimes pacing my room and other times staring up at my ceiling from the floor. Natalie has called several times but I just can’t talk. My mom has checked on me several times
, and one of those times I actually broke down and cried in her arms.

I’m lying in bed trying to fall asleep when my phone beeps
, indicating that I have a text message.

Trey: luv u

I stare at the message and wonder how he can say those words when I was so cruel.

Me: why?

I hold my breath as I wait for his response.

Trey: You were made 4 me, and I 4 u. U r mine.

“Damn tears,” I mumble as I wipe the stray drop away.

Me: can’t breathe w/o u

Trey: breathe baby, I’m here, not going anywhere, breathe.

And though it hurts, I do.

 

~

I begin getting ready for the funeral, the second in 3 weeks.  I stare long at the girl in the mirror and almost don’t recognize her. My face is pale and I’ve lost weight, causing my eyes to sink into their sockets. My eyes look empty and I find that I have to look away, because seeing the evidence of how far I’ve sunk is too much.

~

Trey pulls up to the funeral home and I wonder if he’s thinking about his mom. I turn to look at him and all I see in this moment is the strong, confident man who handles everything thrown at him. He climbs out, walks around to the passenger side, and helps me get out of his truck. He takes my hand and leads me to the front door. I look around as people I recognize from Mercy file into the funeral home.

“Tally,” I hear Dr. Stacey’s voice behind me.

I turn to look at her and she motions for me to step aside. I walk over and feel Trey behind me, a pillar of strength ready to catch me.

“We found this on Candy’s bedside table,” she holds out a folded piece of paper that has my name hastily written on it. “I have not read it and I’m sorry to give it to you now, but I wanted to make sure that you received it.”

I reach out with a shaky hand and take the paper from her. I can’t take my eyes off of it and don’t notice when Dr. Stacey walks away, leaving me with Trey and my note from Candy.

I unfold it slowly and can’t seem to
force my fingers to stop trembling. Trey’s hands come down on my shoulders, steadying me.

I read the words written in her handwriting and feel as though my heart has been run through with a stake. She asks the impossible
, and yet I know that if she were here she would demand even more.

Trey gathers me in his arms and kisses my head. “Bossy to the end.” I hear the small smile in his voice. Keeping an arm around me, he guides me into the building and into the viewing room. Her casket is closed and I imagine that since she knew she was dying she went over all of her wants with Dr. Stacey and she would expect them to be followed to the letter. I’m glad that I don’t have to see her still and lifeless. I would rather remember her as I had known her, vivacious and so very full of life.

I don’t hear most of what the minister says and I tune out the music. I’m broken inside; I don’t need music to add to the torment. Once we are at the graveside I feel as though I just might scream that no one knew her as I did or understood her as I did. I want all of these people to go and just let me be miserable next to the grave of one of the best people I’ve ever known. I don’t want to hear one more sappy word about how she was caring and loving. Candy was cantankerous and mischievous. She loved trouble and sought it out as often as possible. She loved to annoy those around her and lived to drive the crazies even crazier. Did none of these people remember all the stunts she pulled, all the yelling and tampering? Can they not remember her as she was?

Finally, people begin to disperse and the area empties, slowly. I feel Trey’s eyes on me
, but I can’t look up at him. I stare down at the casket that they are now lowering to the grave. I don’t move as the workers begin to cover it with dirt. I find myself not believing that she’s in there, hoping it’s some elaborate hoax, but I know it’s not.

“I’m going to let you have some time with her,” I hear Trey tell me. He leans down and kisses my forehead, and then leaves me there. I’m thankful he understands that I need this time, I need to say goodbye
, although I don’t know how. Candy never was one for goodbyes. I’m still standing there long after the workers have finished and gone. I remember the peace I felt when Lolotea was buried, knowing that she no longer had to carry the burdens of this life, but I can’t find that peace with Candy’s death.

My knees hit the ground before I even register that I’m falling. I stare at Candy’s grave and my heart begins to crumble. Anger, pain, fear, and regret all dance inside of me, each of them vying for the top spot in my broken heart. I don’t understand how she was okay with this. That’s what she told me on that bench that night
; that she was okay, that she was at peace. How could she be okay with being eaten away with cancer, only to then die alone in the mental hospital? I look up at the cloud–covered sky and narrow my eyes.

“She said you comforted her
! That you gave her peace and she knew everything was going to be okay. Did she know you were going to take her!?” I yell to a God that I don’t know, a God Candy claims created us and loved us, but in that moment all, I can see is a God who had taken someone I needed desperately. “Did it ever occur to you that I need her!? Did you ever think that maybe she had more living to do?” Tears stream from my eyes and I struggle to take breaths in between sobs. “She wasn’t done, I wasn’t done.” The words grow weaker as my body shakes with overwhelming sorrow.

My shoulders slump forward and I lean down until my face is pressed to the dirt that has yet to settle over her casket. I cry, heedless of anyone who might see me or hear me. I cry for Lolotea, for the agony she endured, and for how she gave into it, ending her life and unable to see how it would hurt Trey. I cry for Trey, for the pain I saw in his eyes when I told him about his mother, and then for the hurt and anger when I broke it off with him. I cry for Candy, I cry for me, and I cry for the lives that will never be. How do I move forward? How do I keep going? 

My hand reaches into my pocket, and I pull out the folded note from Candy that Dr. Stacey gave me. There was only one sentence on it:
“Live Tally, live for all of us who can’t.”

“HOW!
?” I scream into the ground. How am I supposed to live when I have lost so much in a matter of days? How am I supposed to want to live? I close my eyes as I hold the note close to my chest. I feel the crisp October evening air caressing my wet cheeks and the setting sun only adds to the chill. I know I should go, night is falling, and I know my parents will be worried, but I don’t care. My sleeve rides up a little as I shift onto my side to curl up in a ball. I see the words I carved into my skin, and I know now, that they will always be true. I will always be damaged, I’ve lost so much in my short life, and those losses have done irreparable damage inside of me.

 

I hear a soft murmur in my ear and I feel my body being jostled. I try to open my eyes, but they feel swollen and sluggish. Where was I? I try to clear my mind, to think back to what I had been doing, where I had been.

“I’ve got her.” I hear a deep rumble against my ear, and realize
that I’m being carried. I know that voice, it’s Trey, and he’s carrying me.

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