Page 43 of Jackson
“And where do you think rock bottom is going to take you? Are you strong enough to come back up from that? Or do I find you hanging aswell?”
I’d never learned the full details of what had happened to the kid he had misdiagnosed. All I knew was that Dexter had been brought in to deal with him, he didn’t think he was at rock bottom, but he was. The kid had threatened to take his own life, and in Dexter’s mind, he’d missed the seriousness ofthat.
“Did you find him?” Iasked.
He closed his eyes and nodded hishead.
“He was a good kid, like you and D-J. His mum had brought him to me, I counselled but I missed it, Jack. I saw the cheerfulness, the shine to his eyes, and thought we were on the other side. He didn’t turn up for an appointment and I went to call on him. He was hanging from the rafters in abarn.”
“I’m sorry, but how could youhave…”
“I should have, it was my job to know, to not be fooled by the fakehigh.”
We fell silent and sipped on our beers. “How do I stop myself from hanging?” I saidquietly.
There had been plenty of days when my father’s voice would not quieten. When the thought that I had killed my mother overwhelmed me. Had she lived, she would have loved me, I was sure of that. I wouldn’t have endured years of his constant psychological abuse. I wouldn’t have felt so scared of the dark that I pissed the bed, night after night, instead of going to the bathroom. I wouldn’t have endured him rubbing my face in my piss-stained sheets like one would do to a dog. It was those days that I would have gladlyhung.
“You don’t give him the satisfaction, Jack. You don’t give him the space in your head to fester. Until now, until Summer, it’s been an empty void filled with him. Now you have her, if even for a short period of time. I want you, every day, to fill your mind with her. Memorize, like I’ve told you to, her scent, her body, the colour of her eyes, and her smile. Every time he gets in there, bring her to mind, think only ofher.”
“I drew her, naked and as if I was fuckingher.”
“Draw her some more. Draw her smiling at you, laughing at something you’ve said. Draw all the happy times, Jack. You need a permanent reminder of her to focuson.”
I stared at him for a moment. “I need togo.”
“Jack,wait…”
“I’m fine, I’ll be back later.” I rushed from the bar and started mycar.
The wheels spun as they lost their grip on the gravel of the car park and I headed along the coast. I parked the car and ran to the shop, it was closed of course but I banged on the door, rang the bellcontinuously.
I saw him, in a pair of shorts and rubbing his eyes, come to thedoor.
“What the fuck, Jack? What’s thetime?”
“Bridge, I need to do something. It’simportant.”
He stood to one side and let me in. I grabbed a piece of transfer paper and drew. I pasted the transfer to the last piece of skin without ink on the underside of my forearm, just above mywrist.
It was a smaller version. It took about an hour of pleasurable pain before it was complete. I wiped the ink, the blood, and studied it. I cleaned the station before rushing back out of the shop, without a word toBridge.
I started the car and spedhome.
* * *
Summer was sittingon the balcony, she had a cup of tea in her hands and her face was raised to the sun. She wore a sundress that exposed her shoulders and I noticed some marks to her neck. I shut them from mymind.
“Hey,” I said as I walkedthrough.
She looked up but didn’t give me her usual broad smile. Her eyes were red and puffy, she’d been cryingagain.
I sat beside her and reached up to run my fingers down hercheek.
“Look what I got,” I said, as I showed her mywrist.
She smiled at the sight of a butterfly, a replica of the one I’d tattooed on her. I’d even scrawled her nameunderneath.
“It’s lovely, Jack,” shewhispered.
