The Eyes and Ears of Love (24 page)

“I visited you in the hospital after the accident. Several times.”

“You have to be talking about someone else,” Dorothy interrupts. “You didn’t know me when I was in the hospital.”

“I did know you. I watched you cry when you thought no one was there. I watched you jump and quake while you slept because you were having a nightmare. I wanted to comfort you, but I didn’t have the words.”

“Bentley, I am going to need a little more explanation than that because you aren’t making sense.
”

Bentley’s jaw clenches. His heart rate feels like the thrumming wings of a caged bird. He is afraid of fainting, and focuses on keeping his knees from buckling under the weight of his wobbly body. He can’t hold himself up anymore and falls to his knees in front of her, kneeling in front of Dorothy, like a peasant asking his master for forgiveness. He buries his flushed face in Dorothy’s lap. She raises his chin, holding his cheeks in her hands; cold sweat rolls down his forehead. She wipes his face with the corner of her towel.

“Look at me,” she commands.

“I can’t,” he murmurs.

“Why? I can’t see you anyway.”

“But I can see you.”

“And that’s such a bad thing?”

“Yes.”

She tilts his head up. “It’s me, just me,” she says sincerely.

Bentley valiantly attempts to calm down and gather his thoughts. He swallows a gulp of air, feeling a painful dryness in his throat.

“The town, it was quiet and calm. There had only been two or three cars on the road— probably because everyone was at the party. I was at the gas station buying chasers for my buddy Josh.”

Dorothy shakes her head at Bentley, seemingly unable to understand where he was going.

“I need you to listen to what I am saying Dorothy. It’s important that I tell you this. I was walking out of the gas station right on the corner of Everest Street.”

“Everest Street,” she says aloud. 

He continues, “It all happened so fast that I felt like I couldn’t react in time. I watched as a red car merged out in the middle of the street, not stopping, not turning, but just going straight. I saw a black car coming from the opposite lane. I’d only seen a few cars the whole night, why did that car have to be there at the same time? There was nothing I could do.”

Dorothy squeezes her eyes shut and holds her hand over her mouth to quiet her cry. “Please stop. Please, please stop Bentley.”

“When the cars hit, I felt helpless, no one was around. I looked inside the windows of the gas station and saw the clerk pick up the phone. I ran over to the cars and saw the black car. It had a male driver in it. I felt his pulse and there was nothing. I ran over to the red car that was completely flipped over. I didn’t think I would be able to get anyone out of the car.” He swallows hard, his mouth dry, he continues, “I started with the side I was on, which was the passenger’s side. I got down on my knees, feeling glass prick through my jeans. The girl passenger didn’t have a pulse. Then in the backseat another girl didn’t have a pulse. I stopped for a moment, afraid to check the others, not sure if I could handle so many people dead. But I made my way to the other side and saw legs sticking out of the crushed window. I had to pull on his legs to yank him out of the car to check his pulse and when he was out I knew who it was, it was Luke. My friend.”

Bentley paused, gulping. “I couldn’t push my hands to feel his pulse because I couldn’t bear the thought of not feeling his heart pumping, the thought of not feeling life in his body. Luke was once a great friend of mine and I couldn’t bear the thought of him being gone, especially after he helped me so much when my sister was diagnosed with cancer. But if he was alive, well, I wasn’t going to just leave him there…so I checked, and my worst fear came true, no pulse.”

Dorothy sobs into the palms of her hands, gasping between each cry.

“The last person was the driver, the person responsible, the person who killed my friend. When I looked in I couldn’t believe the sight I was seeing. The girl’s face looked completely mutilated, but I recognized her white mini skirt and midriff shirt, both covered in blood. It was her, the reason I was going to the party in the first place. She smelled like alcohol. I felt for a pulse and there it was, a lively beating pulse. She was alive—the girl I wanted to apologize to for scaring her in the kitchen just a couple hours earlier.”

“That was you?” She pauses. “The one who was watching me in the kitchen? She points her finger at Bentley and clenches her teeth. “It was you all along,” she realizes. 

He shakes his head, “When I heard the ambulance, I panicked. I knew that if you were going to make it out alive, you would get arrested, there would be a backlash in the community.  If you were a stranger I probably would have left you there, but that night I made a choice.

“Please God, tell me you didn’t…” Tears gushed from Dorothy’s eyes.

“I dragged Luke to the front seat and you to the backseat to make it look like he was the driver. If I didn’t hear the ambulance coming I would have moved one of the girl passengers to the front, not Luke. He didn’t deserve the ridicule he got.”

“That’s the only thing you would have done differently?” she snaps. “Bentley what you did… I can’t breathe.” She holds her chest; she seems to be forcing herself to breathe slowly.

“I don’t regret what I did, Dorothy. You were the only survivor.  You shouldn’t have had to spend it in prison for the rest of your life.”

She pauses, and slowly erects her posture. “This is your fault.”

“What?” He looks at her, feeling dazed.

Her brows furrow. “None of this would have ever happened if it weren’t for you. Her eyes narrow as she recoils her body. “Do you know what you’ve done to me? I’ve lived an entire year with confusion about who was driving that night. I needed that clarity. I needed to remember what happened. How could you do that to me?” she yells. “Bentley. You just don’t get it. I was given a second chance to do the right thing… but you took that from me. You had no right to mess with my fate. Poor Luke, he didn’t kill everyone… I did.” She continues to breathe slowly, in and out. “Those dreams weren’t dreams at all. They were real.” She drops to her knees and puts herself in a fetal position, rocking herself back and forth, weeping.

I don’t regret what I did because I think you are worth every piece of life you were given,” he says, panicked.

She sits up and points her finger towards the door and yells, “LEAVE,” before returning back to her fetal position.  Her face is swollen and red.

“Dorothy, I…”

“LEAVE,” she yells once more.

He does as he’s told.  He stands outside of the facility, unable to move. He has been living with this guilt for over a year and he thought he would feel better by telling her. There were a few times, he thought about telling her, one moment he came very close to. Dorothy was lying in her hospital bed, standing outside her door, he heard her mother say she was going to get a coffee. So he took his opportunity to slip into the room. She was still and unresponsive. But, then she sat up and looked towards Bentley’s direction like she knew he was there, her eyes widened as she asked, “Donna? Is that you?” He swallowed hard and left the hospital, never visiting her after that moment again.

Maybe she’s right. If she wouldn’t have dropped the pie, maybe none of the events after would have happened,
he thinks to himself. He thinks about the outcomes if he wouldn’t have been watching her through the window and would have just gotten the courage to speak to her like a man.

***

In her room, Dorothy forces herself to her feet, holding her unsettled stomach. She leaves her room and puts all her energy into climbing up the stairs. Aurora follows, nudges Dorothy with her nose when she trips on a step, pushing her back up. Dorothy works her way up each stair. The tears dripping down her cheeks feel cold. They reach the roof top Dorothy breathes heavily. She can feel the wind thrashing against her wet hair, it’s much cooler on the roof. The scent of all the flowers overpowers in the breeze. Dorothy walks slowly toward the edge of the roof, feeling with her hands where the edge ends. She steps up on the ledge. Aurora barks fiercely. The excess material on her towel flaps like a flag in the wind.

***

In the yard below the facility, Bentley hears Aurora’s barking above him; he looks up and sees Dorothy wobbling on the edge of the roof. He runs into the facility, leaping up and over multiple stairs to reach the rooftop garden. He forces the roof door open, wheezing as he is unable to breathe. 

“DOROTHY!” he yells.

“Leave me alone, Bentley,” she says, calm and stern.

“I can’t do that.”

Her voice is wistful, “It’s just like skydiving,” She reassures him and herself.

Bentley approaches her slowly, as to not startle her. “Except I won’t be there to pull the ripcord.”
Maybe I should just grab her and pull her off the ledge. But if she fights me, it could risk her falling.

She looks at Bentley with defeated eyes, the paleness of her skin worries him. “I can’t live with what I have done. I killed my sister. She died thinking I hated her,” she says while holding her stomach.

“She knows you didn’t hate her, Dorothy.”

“You didn’t see her face, right before she died. She was heartbroken. I broke her heart,” she sobs. “I’m just like my mother. I shattered Donna’s heart the same way my mother shattered my father’s.”

“People say and do things when they’re angry, but you shouldn’t let it impact your life. Please, get off the edge,” he pleads. “You are the only one that survived. Do you really think your sister would want you to waste that life?”

She laughs and cries at the same time. “No, she would think it’s incredibly selfish.”

“Then honor your sister by getting off the ledge and living your life the way she would have lived hers.”

“Just answer me one thing?” she asks still teetering on the edge.

“Anything.”

“Why did you do it?”

When the lump in his throat subsides, he says to her, “You are Emily’s gift to me. I knew when I saw you in the kitchen that night at school: it was fate. And when I pulled you out of the car, I knew we were going to meet again. I didn’t know when or how, but I knew we would.” He inhales sharply. “When the accident happened, you were the only survivor after four people dead, I knew there had to be a reason. Then, in the hospital, I read the word
blind
, on your chart.” He pauses, “The Garden was invented by my sister, but you became the purpose of opening it. You were my motivation and now, you’re my future. He gently folds his hand into hers.

She turns to him, tears leaking from her eyes as she stands on the ledge. A whirl of harsh wind forces Dorothy into Bentley’s arms. He sighs, takes her into his arms, and carries her away from the ledge.

She leans into him and begins to cry harder as Bentley fights back his own tears.

“I love you,” he whispers. He holds her cold body tight and close, rubbing her arms to warm her up.

***

The breeze gets stronger and wraps around the two of them. For that brief instant Dorothy can feel Donna’s spirit, an inexplicable feeling of calmness claims her body. From deep within the darkness of the world that Dorothy cannot see, an image of Donna emerges. She’s beautiful. Her hair is curled exactly the way she use to style it with her curling iron. Her face is clean and fresh, with not a scratch on it from the accident. She’s wearing her favorite t-shirt dress, she’d always wear around the house before going off to college. She’s the Donna, Dorothy remembers.

“I forgive you,” Dorothy says to the image.

“Thank you,” Bentley replies as he squeezes Dorothy in his arms.

Slowly a smile appears on Donna’s face as Dorothy reads her lips,
I forgive you, too
.

The breeze then stops abruptly and Dorothy realizes the warmth of Bentley’s arms around her chilly skin. He carries her all the way down the flight of stairs and back to her room, and she hears Aurora trotting alongside them. He lays her down in her bed, enveloping her in blankets in order to warm her up. Just before she releases the last bit of tension in her body to drift to sleep, she feels the bed cave slightly as he lies next to her.

The next morning, Dorothy can feel the warm sun hitting her face from the window and she hears high-pitched chirping from birds. The warmth of the blankets around her and the heat on her face causes her to smile.

“Bentley?” She whispers.

“I’m here.” Bentley replies and touches her hand.

“I need you to do something for me.”

“Anything.”

“But you can’t ask any questions or try to convince me otherwise.” She feels the bed wiggle as he sits up straighter.

“Okay.” Bentley obeys her wishes and doesn’t ask a single question.

Chapter 8

While sitting inside Bentley’s truck, Dorothy catches a whiff of the fumes from the engine, a familiar, almost comforting smell, despite her anxiety about what she is about to do. They sit in silence in front of a house.