The Eyes and Ears of Love (25 page)

“Dorothy, are you sure you want to do this?” Bentley finally asks.

“Yes, I need to do this, and you know it.”

He pauses. “You don’t have to, no one would ever find out if we didn’t speak of it.”

“That would be wrong,” she sighs. “If you’re worried I’ll connect your name to the accident, you have my word I won’t.”

Bentley touches her cheeks gently and then pulls her closer to him. “Is that what you really think I’m worried about?”

Dorothy places her hands over his and shakes her head.

He continues, “Good, because that’s the last thing I care about. I think you are an honorable girl for wanting to do the right thing, but I don’t want to lose you.”

“You’re not going to lose me, Bentley. Whether I’m locked up or free, you’ll always have me.”

Bentley squeezes Dorothy’s face tighter.

“I’m going to confess whether you want me to or not,” she continues, “but I really would like your blessing.”

Bentley sighs. “You already have it.” He kisses her forehead and releases his hands.

“Will you just wait at the end of the street for me?”

“Uh-huh.”

Dorothy steps out of the truck and takes a deep breath. She grabs a walking cane from the bed of the truck and slowly walks up the path to the front door. She hears Bentley drive away. She takes one more breath before she knocks. Her stomach drops as she hears the screeching of the door opening.

“Dorothy?” Erica asks, puzzled. “You didn’t walk all the way here did you?”

She remembers me?
Dorothy thinks. She speaks, “No, I got a ride.”

“Well, what can I do for you?” she asks. Her voice shaky. 

Dorothy breathes heavily. “I was wondering if I could talk to you and your husband.”

“Well, unfortunately, Frank’s away on a business trip.”

“I was really hoping I could talk to you both.”

“Good news, I’m really quite fantastic at relaying a message. I can always tell my husband what you had to say, verbatim.”

“That sounds alright.”

Erica doesn’t speak. Dorothy begins to feel uncomfortable standing in the doorway. She wonders if this woman is starring at her with cold eyes.

“Well then, come on in,” Erica finally says.

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“You’re welcoming me into your home after all the horrible things I said to you?”

“I understood your anger. I think everyone at the memorial did.” Dorothy feels Erica’s hand on her shoulder, urging her to come inside. “Would you like anything to drink or to eat?” she asks, guiding Dorothy to the couch.

“No, I just need to get this off my chest, now. I’m actually feeling extremely fortunate I’m blind right now.”

“Why?”

Dorothy pauses momentarily, “I don’t want to see your face when I tell you what needs to be said.”

Erica doesn’t reply.

Dorothy’s throat suddenly feels dry. The words she had rehearsed earlier seem suddenly impossible to say. She begins, “To start off, I didn’t know.”

“Know what?”

“Someone close to me did something unimaginable in order to protect me.” A tear escapes her eye and slithers down her cheek. It feels cold on her skin.

“Oh sweetie!” Dorothy feels the cushions depress next to her as Erica takes a seat by her side. She feels the woman’s hands around her own. “You can tell me.”

“I, I,” she stutters, “I accept all the consequences of my actions and as much as it may frustrate you, I can’t tell you the name of the person that protected me.”

“Ok?”

Dorothy can feel her hands sweat into Erica’s. “I was the driver, not Luke,” she blurts out.

Erica releases her hands. “What? That’s impossible!”

“It’s the truth. I have my memory to verify.”

“And you didn’t know?”

“No. I mean, I always had the memories, but everyone convinced me they were just dreams. I officially found out late last night.”

Erica clears her throat, “Why are you telling me?”

“Because you have the right to know. Because you have the right to turn me into the authorities.”

“Do you want me to turn you in?”

Dorothy shakes her head and sobs. “The only thing I want in this world is for you to forgive me, even though I wouldn’t do it for your son.”

Erica breathes out deeply. “Sweetie,” Erica gently places her hands around Dorothy’s face. “Luke was a goof-ball wasn’t he?”

Dorothy nods while they both chuckle.

“He was!” she continues, “He was young and not the brightest when it came to decision making. I would know because I dug him out of a lot of his mistakes. He had driven drunk many times, he was so comfortable with that fact that he told me every time he did, despite my angry response. So I know if you wouldn’t have driven, he would have.”

“You don’t know that,” Dorothy says while brushing her hands down her cheeks.

Erica sighs, “I do, honey. Because I know my son. My mind hasn’t changed from what I said at the memorial, I still believe that the fate would have been the same regardless of who was driving. I can’t get mad at you for doing the same thing my son would have done.”

Dorothy slaps her hands against her thighs. “I don’t understand why you’re not angry with me?”

“When you become a mother, you’ll understand.”

“And what do I do until then?”

“You live!” Dorothy feels Erica’s hand brush a strand of hair behind her ear.  “Nothing good would come from turning you into the authorities. Too many lives have already been lost to lose another. Live your life!”

“What about your husband? Maybe he would want to turn me in?”

“Frank, is a genuine man. You let me worry about him, I’ll tell him on my terms, when the time is right. And I’m certain he’ll have the same judgement I have right now. Just tell me one thing?”

“Anything.”

“What was Luke doing, before he passed?”

Dorothy swallows hard, “Making out with Julie in the backseat.”

Erica chuckles, “that’s my boy!”

Dorothy twists her lips to make a wry smile. She feels Erica wrap her hands around Dorothy’s arm, helping her up from the couch.

“If you ever need anything, please don’t hesitate to ask,” Erica insists. “And keep in touch, I’d love to hear about what you’re doing in the future.”

“I will,” she pauses, “I promise.”

“Good! I’m so glad you came Dorothy,” she says as she wraps her arms around Dorothy for a bear hug.

“Me too.” She pauses briefly, reaching for Erica’s hands. “You are a kind woman, Erica. You’ve given me forgiveness when I don’t deserve it. I hope that one day I can be half the woman you are.”

“I don’t think you are going to have any issues with that. You’ve already showed your decency as a human being by coming to talk to me.” 

With each day that passes the summer, Dorothy visits the spot of the accident at least three times a week. Her sister is buried in Oregon, but Dorothy hasn’t been to Oregon since residing at the Garden. However, she prefers to visit the street of the accident because that’s where Donna took her last breath.

Bentley told her before her first visit that the section on Everest Street has been abandoned since the accident. People take alternate routes to avoid the street, even if that means a longer drive time. Even the gas station across the road eventually relocated. A couple cars pass now and again, but for the most part its quiet just like her father’s grave with only the sound of trees rustling against the wind and birds chirping. Bentley had shown her distinctly where he pulled Donna from the car. After several months now, Dorothy remembers the spot exactly, measuring by footsteps. She sits on the spot, sometimes even lays on the spot and presses her hands against the asphalt. She disregards temperature: even if the blazing sun scalds her, she lets her hands burn. Often, she sits there for over an hour to tell Donna about her day. Occasionally, she’ll get a honk or two from the two cars that use the Everest Street route. Dorothy will usually use a rude hand gesture or yell, “Go around! Can’t you see, I’m talking to my sister?” But she never moves to let the cars pass.

Erica’s words follow Dorothy wherever she goes now. Fate is fate. Dorothy acknowledges that if she isn’t supposed to be on this earth, she wouldn’t be.  If Dorothy is supposed to spend her life incarcerated than she would be behind bars right now.

Some days she feels fortunate to not have her vision, so she can’t look at pictures to help her remember her father and sister. She deliberately recalls the night of Donna’s prom, several years ago. Her mom wasn’t quite in the digital age yet and only used disposable cameras. Dorothy snapped at her mom for using the flash when it was unnecessary. One picture she took consisted of Ryan, Donna’s prom date, putting on her fresh corsage. Donna had really bad allergies from the flowers and she sneezed right when their mom snapped the picture. Donna’s facial expression was horrendous. Her nose was scrunched, her eyes were red and puffy, and her jaw was open like a grizzly bear. When the pictures were developed later that week, only one came out, and it was the one of Donna sneezing. But, Dorothy will never be able to see that picture again. So she reruns that day in her head and remembers how beautiful Donna looked in that pink dress, how happy she seemed. Dorothy values her ability to do this.

It’s the last afternoon of July now, and Dorothy visits Everest Street. It’s hot and humid. Aurora sits across the street underneath a shade tree. As always, Dorothy walks thirty-five steps to the spot of the accident and sits on the blazing asphalt. She presses her hands against it.

“Hey Donna. I graduate from the Garden today. I know it sounds a bit cheesy, but it’s kind of cool. My therapy group is throwing me a BBQ to celebrate!” She laughs, “So that will be a nice treat. Surprisingly enough, I didn’t cook anything for it. They insisted they would do all the cooking and I should just sit back and relax!”

Suddenly a warm breeze dries the sweat behind her knees.

“I’m kind of nervous, though. I don’t know what I’m going to do. Where am I going to live? I could go back to school or get a job. I know Bentley will take care of me, but I don’t want to rely on him. I want to support him, just as much as he supports me.” Dorothy kisses her hand and gently pats the ground. “I’ve got to make this visit short, the BBQ starts any minute. I love you, Donna.”

Aurora guides Dorothy back to the facility and up the stairs to the garden on the rooftop.

“There you two are!” Nurse Lena yells. “We’ve been waiting for you guys!”

Someone grabs Dorothy from behind causing her to jump.

Dorothy grabs their hands. “Bentley?”

“Yes!” Bentley says, exhaling deeply.

“Were you behind me the whole time?”

“Guilty!”

“How did I not know?” she asks, baffled.

“Well, Aurora’s loud panting helped!” He laughs, “Aurora, you need to get in shape!”

“Hey! She’s a hard-working service dog!” she says, patting Aurora’s head.

“Yeah, yeah,” he jokes. “Can we talk for a minute?”

The blood rushes to her face.

“It’s not a bad talk!” he reassures her.

She sighs with relief, “You should have started with that first! I don’t think I can take any more shockers.”

Bentley pulls Dorothy to the quieter end of the garden, away from the BBQ.

“What do you want to talk about?” she asks.

“I just want to know how you’re feeling.”

“About what?”

“Graduating, possibly leaving the facility.”

“I’m not going to lie. I’m extremely nervous, but I’m also really excited!”

“Really?” he asks.

“Yes, really! I actually think… I’m ready to go back to college next month!”

He doesn’t respond.

Her eyes widen. “Is that a bad idea?” she asks, concerned.

Bentley picks her up by the armpits and raises her in the air and spins. “Bad idea? Bad idea? No! I’m so proud of you, Dorothy!” He sets her back on the ground. “I am so unbelievably proud of you, baby. You are
the
inspiration to everyone.” He kisses her fervently. “Now it’s my turn.”

“Your turn for what?”

“To ask you something.”

“Ok,” she says anxiously.

“Hold out your hand.” Dorothy holds out her hand with her palm facing up.

Bentley places something in it.

Dorothy feels the hard object. She runs her fingers down the ridges and holds it up to her nose. It smells metallic. “A key?” she asks.

“Yes. I’ve gotten so used to watching you grow over the last few months.  I don’t want to wake up one more morning without seeing your face or hearing your voice.”

Tears escape from Dorothy’s eyes. “Are you sure? I mean, I’m capable of living on my own, but I still make messes and sometimes I don’t always clean it up all the way. Lena usually helps me.”

“Everyone makes a mess once in a while!”