Page 94 of Risking it All

Mrs. Hutchins and I moved swiftly—her pulling out a chair at the table, me practically carrying Macie there to sit. Mrs. Hutchins then motioned for me to take the seat next to Macie. I accepted then took Macie’s hand in mine. Her skin was cold, clammy and I hated the red hives forming on her arms. I ducked my head so I could catch her eyes that were focused on the ground. “Hey, you okay?”

“Can we do this? Can we go ahead and try to do this?”

“You don’t have to,” I started, but Macie cut me off.

“I do.”

“You want me to leave, Macie?” Logan asked.

She shook her head and looked at Logan, Abby, her mom and then her dad. She shared a long look with him, and he watched with a protectiveness I respected. “I want you here.”

“Okay then.” Mrs. Hutchins sat at the table, a sketch pad and drawing pencil in hand. “Let’s do this.”

“Is there any easier way?” I asked. “Hypnosis?”

“We tried,” Echo answered. “Hypnosis doesn’t work on Macie.”

Abby reached behind her to a bag and produced a computer and books. “We’re going to take this slow, Macie,” she said ina gentle voice. “I know it’s tough for you to talk about what happened directly or until recently, even indirectly. To help, instead of forcing you to try to describe it outright or asking you questions, I’m going to show you photos of tattoos. If you see something familiar, point to it and your mom will piece the elements together to try to create the tattoo you saw. Okay?”

Macie breathed in deeply, nodded, and I had never been so damn proud of anyone in my life. She was courageous, strong, and the bravest person I knew. Abby slid the first book over to Macie. She stared at it for one minute, two. Her dad leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. “You don’t have to do this, Macie. There is no pressure from any of us.”

“I have to,” she said, and her hand shook as she opened the first book. She then scratched the family of hives forming on her forearm.

I wanted to throw the book, swing her up in my arms, and carry her from this torment. But I understood why she was pushing herself. Yes, part of her was doing it for me, but the other part, the main part, was doing this to protect her family. There were so many things that were different between us, but at the core, we loved our families more than anything, including ourselves.

Macie flipped through page after page of close-ups of tattoos. After the tenth page, she scratched harshly at her arm then pointed at a single rose. Abby slid the book away from Macie and gave it to Macie’s mom who went to work sketching. Abby then gave Macie a different book.

Macie reached over to me. Knowing what she needed, I took her hand, squeezed it tight, and then Macie opened the new book. She scanned the photos of tattoos and searched for the right combination to unlock the safe in her brain.

***

Hours went by. One to two, two to three, three to four. Macie combed through the books, picking out pieces of the tattoos, and we all slowly understood what was happening. She first picked out a rose, but that wasn’t the exact rose of the tattoo. She’d see something more in line with the actual rose tattoo, and she’d point that one out. She selected other things; a vine, a pink ribbon, letters—A, Y, L, N and F, tribal bands, generic unoriginal shit that most everyone I knew who had a tattoo put on their body.

Logan left and came back with catered food from a restaurant Macie mentioned was her favorite. I made her plate, and Abby snatched the books from her and refused to give them back until she ate. She picked at her food as she watched her mom create the newest rendition, then went swiftly back to work.

An hour later, after choosing more letters, Abby, Logan, and Noah sat at the table playing the worst game of Wordle. Macie turned the page, pointed at a skeleton key, and something unsettling formed in my stomach. I sat back in my seat and ran a frustrated hand through my hair. Fuck me if this was where things could be headed.

Abby stared at me as if she could sense the foundation of my world crumbling, and she took the book and slid it in Mrs. Hutchins’ direction. Macie’s mom sketched the skeleton key alongside the rose, and nausea slashed through me.

“Is the first wordalways, Macie?” My voice didn’t even sound like my own.

Her head whipped in my direction, the answer ofyesplain in her eyes.

“Always a lesson?” I forced out. “Always a lesson, never a failure?”

Macie shook with violent quakes, turned deathly white, and then she turned her head from me and dry heaved. Macie’s mommoved into action to be by Macie’s side. Her father jumped up to help, and I stood. Abruptly and with more force than I meant.

“You’ve seen this before?” Abby’s underlying accusation felt like a knife tearing open my artery.

I had. I fucking had. “I need air.”

Abby stood as if she had no intention of allowing me out of her sight, and Macie caught my hand as I moved to leave. “Are you okay?”

Was I okay? Macie was sitting here, bleeding out, forcing herself to point out parts of tattoos for hours, doing so even though her brain was protesting, putting her through hell, and she was the one asking me if I was okay. What could I say? What could I do?

Macie dry heaved again and then forced out, “I’m going to throw up.”

Her father swept her up in his arms, telling her she was okay as he raced her down the hallway for the bathroom. Once inside, the sound of her throwing up pounded at my soul. Logan stood near the hallway, his cell at his ear and he spoke to whoever answered. “Beth, you wrapping up your shift? Yeah, she’s getting sick. I’m going to call in some prescriptions for her at the hospital. Can you pick them up and bring them here? Yeah. Probably wouldn’t be a bad idea to grab a saline bag and all the fixings. Echo said she’s been sick a lot lately.”

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