Seven Months Later
“The two slowest deaths
are absence and time.”
—Oliver Masters
mia
HE STARED AT ME, his eyes fixed, steady, and without a smile. If one didn’t know better they would think he was bored. But I’d known Zeke for almost a year now, and this was the face of contentment.
The room where we typically held group therapy was vacant on the weekends, and at first, I’d come here to ease my thoughts of Ollie and my itching fingers, but now I’ve continued to play the piano every Saturday to abate Zeke’s troubled mind.
Dr. Conway said she had seen an improvement in Zeke since I started playing for him. I was just glad it was because of my own doing. For once, I’d improved life for someone instead of destroying it, and it felt good.
Despite Ollie being gone, the time spent with him still changed me.
Ollie changed me.
“Okay, Zeke. Hour’s up.” I rested my palms over my thighs. Zeke didn’t speak, as always, but communicated “thank you” with a simple motion of his hand—as always.
I’d picked up gestures here and there but mostly learned from a book I’d grabbed from the library. I wasn’t fluent in sign language, but Zeke’s patience never hindered.
As soon as I stood, Zeke held up an “O,” and I already knew the direction of where the question headed. Zeke survived on routine, and just like every Saturday before, after I stood from the piano, Ollie’s name was brought up.
I hadn’t seen Ollie since the day he slipped away. No one gave me any indication as to why Dean Lynch removed him from the program, but rumors spread as wide as Maddie’s legs here at Dolor. Some blamed it on Lynch’s carelessness and favoritism as if they understood the entire story. Supposedly, the Dean had decided to cast Ollie out to prove his dedication to Dolor’s core values. Others assumed he was removed temporarily while he and his brother were investigated. Both seemed plausible, and Lynch wouldn’t tell me otherwise.
One thing I was sure of: I missed him.
The first three months without him were unbearable, and these last three benumbing. The unknown only made it worse—not knowing if I would ever see him again, not knowing if he was okay, and not knowing if he had gotten better.
“Stay away from me, Mia,”were his last words to me, but I refused to. He hadn’t been in his right mind, and that much he had warned me. And whether he was here or not, I would stay with him. Those last words were replaced by others he had said to me the night he snuck into the Looney Bin and confessed he was in love with me. “Stay with me, even when I’m gone.”
Right now, he was gone.
And over the last seven months in his absence, I stayed.
Like every other Saturday, I provided Zeke with the same answer, “Close your eyes.” I forced a convincing smile. Ollie’s slow and haunting voice flowed through my head without admission.“If reality becomes unbearable, close your eyes. We were made with an imagination.”
Clenching my eyes closed, I fought the tears threatening to fall.
Not in front of Zeke.
“Stop right there,” I ordered, peering down the corridor after closing the door to my dorm behind me. The blond hair boy froze and I narrowed my eyes. “Jake? Is that you?”
Jake slowly turned around, and his thin lips managed to disappear under the force of his broad smile. “Crap-bag!”
The next thing I knew, I was swept off the floor and engulfed in Jake’s arms.
After the school year ended, Jake’s father signed him out of the program to attend a mission trip for his church. With Jake and Ollie gone, Bria and I had grown close.
“I honestly wasn’t expecting to see you again,” I admitted once he set me back on solid ground.
Jake’s blue eyes beamed down at me. “Yeah, well, I’m still gay,” he giggled, and I never thought I would have missed his giggle until I heard it.
“Thank god for that,” I said through a laugh. “Heading to dinner?”
Jake nodded, and we continued to walk down the hall side by side. “Catch me up on things. What’s happened over the last two months?”
