Unmistakable (2 page)

“Uncle Jack,” My hurt filled voice manages to say two words. That’s all I need to say.

His confident voice never wavers, “I’ll be there, kiddo. You trust me?”

“One hundred and ten percent,” I say with as much conviction as a child my age can possibly conjure.

“Outstanding! I’ll see you soon.”

At such a young age, I lost
trust,
not in love, but in people. How could I not? When the two I’ve grown up with webbed a life full of deception, my own father put conditions on his love for me, my own mother doesn’t want me, I lock my feelings tight, secure them with all of my ten year old strength, and time it shut with my not-so-innocent-from-pain heart, telling myself to never…ever let anyone in.

Not even death can make me open it ever again.

Even though my heart is in the state it’s in, a small part of my heart tells me that when God closes a door,
He
always…always opens a window; small enough to
breathe
…wide enough to
escape
…just enough to
live,
and just the perfect time to
start
. My new beginning is with the only four people I know I can trust…with them I’m safe, loved, and free. I’m free to be me. The love they offer is without restriction…it’s genuine…it’s undeniable…it’s
unmistakable
.

Present Time

I feel as though I’m having an out of body experience. I hear things, but can’t clearly see anyone or anything around me. Every inch of my body hurts, but I remain focused on Roxy’s face in my mind. The image of her breathes life
in
me…
through
me…
all around
me. I know, I’m fucked up. My trigger finger is broken, I have multiple gunshot wounds on my chest and shoulder. My leg hurts like a motherfucker. Damn fuckers did a number on my ass. However, as long as she’s okay, all this pain, it’s all worth it, because at the end of the day, losing her is not an option. Not now…not ever.

Even if she’s broken my heart.

The next thing I feel are hands all over me…tugging…pulling…poking…what the fuck! As I slowly open my right eye, bright lights hit my eyeball which causes me to flinch, closing my eyelid shut.

I mumble, “Love…” I try to move, “Love…you…too?”

Someone holds me down and whispers in my ear, “You’re in the hospital. Who are you looking for?”

I, slowly swallow and say, “My…lo…love…” I can barely speak. Something is on my face over my mouth. Talking makes my chest hurt…everything hurts, but the need to see her is worse than the pain I’m feeling.

I try my hardest not to go under without seeing her. I’ve been shot before, almost bled to death, but not seeing her…not touching her…it breaks me even more…it leaves me to bleed even more. The bullet hole, somewhere in my battered body has probably grown in size for every second I miss seeing her beautiful face. The only person that can plug every hole in my body…that can soothe any hurt is now not within reach.

Another female voice says, “Male approximately 26 to 28 years old, gunshot to the chest and shoulder, lacerations, and contusions on the face and head, left eye swollen shut, knee cap swollen, probably fractured or broken. Pulse weak, vitals tacky, decreased consciousness, and labored breathing. Jesus, you’d think he came from a war zone.”

A male voice says, “He has a sucking chest wound and a massive right side hemothorax. I need a thirty-six chest tube, and chest x-ray stat.” I hear the male voice start barking orders, “Did we establish an antecubital IV lines? It’s a through and through shot.” Another round of pulling…tugging, then the male voice continuous rambling, “Someone get me the sonogram. I need to know if our guy has pericardial tamponade.” The male voice ceases.

A female voice says, “X-ray to trauma bay one. Stat!”

More pulling…more tugging. I feel like fucking Humpty Dumpty, but damn it; I didn’t have a great fucking fall. I’ve been fucking shot!

The male voice shouts, “Shit, give me a large gauge needle attached to a 20ml syringe. I need to drain the blood around the heart. Call the OR; this guy needs surgery to stop the bleeding, ASAP!”

The next thing I know, I’m moving, or someone is moving me. My eyes are heavy, but my consciousness flashes a pretty picture of my love…my Roxy. Only God can explain this, but I can sense her. The stronger the feeling permeates my entire being, the closer I think I’m getting to where I’m supposed to be. Where the hell am I going, anyway? Are they taking me to her? Am I meeting my Maker?

Oh, God not yet.

Give me one more glance…

One more touch…

One more kiss…

Just One More.

The only place that can give me peace is in her arms…in Roxy’s arms. It’s my hope that I’m heading to Roxy because she’s the air that fills my lungs...the blood that flows in my veins….she is my life.

My mind flashes pictures of what happened to her. If she had only listened, but she NEVER listens. Then, pain…excruciating pain…caused from not knowing if she’s safe engulfs my entire being. Fear restricts my heart, it clouds my thinking….it breaks my soul.

But, I feel her…I felt her, right?

I feel as if I’m floating around a sea of blackness, then a flash of light blinds me, and then nothing. Even though I go in and out of whatever state I’m in, my prayer never stops. I’m begging God over and over again to keep her safe.

God…my…life…for hers.

Subconsciously or consciously, as soon as I hear the whoosh of the door closing, the connection is instantly cut…Am I dead? I’ll feel connected to her if my heart’s still beating, right? Or, I’m alive and she’s dead? No! I’d rather die than her…not her.

“He’s crashing! Let’s get going folks…he’s flat lining!” A fading voice says.

Then, I feel it…my heart gives…my body is beaten up and broken, but what I know is true…my heart’s last shout…its last call is to Roxy. My heart may stop, but before it ever does, it beats only for one person because our love…my love for her is undeniable…irrefutable…
unmistakable
.

Three months prior

Why did I even think to have a stupid dinner outing? I feel as though I’m a bird in a cage since the stupid Mexican cartel is on my-tweety-bird ass. How my life turned upside down again, I can’t even begin to comprehend. Who do I blame? Can I blame God? Do I blame the people around me? God wouldn’t just make life miserable, right? Aunt Patti always tells me,
‘we may never know the reason behind the trials that come our way, but one thing you need to know is, there’s a greater Being right in front of you. He walks ahead of you, alongside you to guide you, who’s faithful to complete the work he started in you’
. What work may I ask?

All my life, as long as I could remember, I’ve prayed not to ever see or hear of my father. It’s a simple prayer, a simple request, but God’s secretary probably forgot that memo, because here I am now. Furthermore, I thought I’d escaped my stepmother’s evil clutches. Apparently, everything I’ve thought was wrong. Absolutely….
wrong
.

I’m close to the bathroom door when I hear the shots. In an instant, there’s chaos everywhere, people running, shoving, and screaming as I stand, momentarily, shocked. Like a statue, I stand there, my heart beating erratically, and my brain is seized with panic. I need to center my mind, just like how LT showed me.

Center your mind? Girl, there’s no time for meditation! You’re not in a damn yoga class!
What the hell am I supposed to do?
Roxy, get your head in the game! You need to hide so you won’t look like Swiss cheese!
I push open the door and lock myself inside one of the stalls. I step on the toilet, squat, and press both palms against the stall walls balancing myself, and I wait.
These stupid heels will be the death of me!

I suddenly feel my clutch vibrating. Who would be texting me? Slowly, I reach in for my phone, swiping my shaky finger on the screen, I see Trish’s face as I try to balance myself.
Ugh! I should work at a damn circus with all this balancing act I’m doing.

Trish: what’s going on, Foxy Roxy?

Seriously?
I’m getting shot at here…I’m in danger, girl.
That’s what’s going on. Am I going to answer?
Are you kidding me, nobody’s got time to socialize! What part of guns, bullets, and dead doesn’t register in your brain?
My foxy-self, as always, is on point. Sometimes, she really does make sense….
sometimes
. Then, another text comes through.

Trish: are you ignoring the mother of the dick-kins?

Is she for real, right now?
Obviously, she doesn’t have the 411 on the 911 situation you’re in, and you’re a foxy mess! Concentrate! Sing with me….First, I was afraid, I was petrified! Kept thinking I could never live without you by my side.
What the freak is wrong with me? Why am I even thinking of singing?
It’s a stress release, missy. You, obviously, can’t have sex, so let’s do a sing-a-long! Oh, as long as I know how to love, I know I’ll stay alive…I will survive…I will survive…hey, hey!
I’ve completely lost it…totally.

Where is Cody?
I need to get out of here!
No, stupid, stay put!
I want to see him!
You’re not going to see him if you’re shot between the eyes!

Where is everyone? I’m tired of talking to myself!

The commotion outside seems to have quieted down some. I’m not hearing anything anymore, other than my foxy-crazy-self talking to me. God, I hope they find me soon.
What the hell is wrong with my robocops?

Then, suddenly I hear that noise…

It’s that noise I both wish to hear and pray hard not to….I think my heart just jumped out of my chest when the door creaked. My eyes bug out as tears, slowly, roll down my face, and I’m not breathing because said heart is on the floor.

If this is my time, Lord, please make it quick and painless. Keep Cody and everyone I love safe. My praying stops, because I think about not telling Cody that I love him. Why haven’t I?
Girl, you have such perfect timing to realize this now. Focus, Roxy!

If this is my last chance to tell him, I have to do it now….I have to. How I wish I had told him sooner. I want him to hear those words leave my mouth.

Me: love you!

What the hell? How about you send an SOS to save your ass?

I press send and clutch my phone hard, because the footsteps in the bathroom keep getting closer…slower, but closer.
Shit…one, two, three sing Roxy…Go on now, go, walk out the door, just turn around now, cause you’re not welcome anymore
…Ha! The damn lyrics are so appropriate. Now, if only I could find a way to make this fucker walk out that door and leave me the hell alone!

I, slowly, put my phone back in my clutch, ignoring my foxy conscience singing ‘I Will Survive’, and I pull out the pepper spray Cody gave me a couple of days ago. If I’m going down, I’m going down spraying!
That’s all you got? You’re going to die! You, will, definitely not survive! Do you know any Lara Croft moves? Find your inner Karate Kid with high kicks and shit!

As I’m counting down to the end of my life, Cody is the only image I can see. His brilliant blue eyes, full of love, always consoling, never discouraging. His strong arms offering protection, never destruction; his steady hands alleviates, never aggravates; but most importantly, I remember his trance-inducing smile, his laughter zooms and brightens the darkest parts of my heart. It coats my heart without constricting; it covers my heart without concealing…it veils my heart without deceiving.