Shhh...Mack's Side (5 page)

“Do you know who
helps you?”

“No. I never see a face. He’s bigger than me. A man. I’m just a little girl.”

“How little?”

“I don’t know. I can’t tell. Just smaller than him. He’s stronger than me and whispers,
‘shhh…’ in my ear. I don’t move. I just watch the chimes and listen to the music.”

“And you say Gia is yelling for you?”

“Yes. She’s yelling for me. She’s calling my name.”

I take in a deep breath.

“Mack! Where are you, Mack?”
I called out to the room. Lila slowly stood, holding my gaze while I mimicked Gia’s voice.

“Listen to her
voice, McKenzie. How old is Gia? How old does her voice sound?”

“Five,” I whispered holding her gaze in a trance. I could hear her. Plain as day. Where were we? I couldn’t see anymore. That’s it
. Just Gia’s voice, calling for me. That was it. I snapped, rose to my feet, and grabbed my purse.

“I have to go,” I suddenly decided, feeling dazed
.

“McKenzie. You had a very good session. We’ll continue here next time. Okay?”

I don’t know what happened, why I felt she was safer than any of the other twenty-one and half therapist I’d already made it this far with. As soon as I felt like this, I bailed. Lila was wiser than my life long experience with psychiatrist. She read me like an open book. I wasn’t pulling anything over on her.

“I can’t breathe, Lila,” I said, dropping to the sofa, clinching my chest. Just like I did when I was alone in my bed.

“You’re okay. Just relax. I’m going to write you something for anxiety. It’ll help relax you.”

I nodded, agreeing. I knew
I wasn’t going to die. I knew it was all in my head, but I couldn’t help it. It felt real. Like I was really going to die. Nobody could understand that feeling until it happened to them. It can hit anywhere at any time. I left long lines of the grocery store before, because there were entirely too many people. One minute I was fine, searching messages on my phone, and the next, I was losing my marbles.

I
knew it wasn’t real. I knew those people who were out for their livelihood needs weren’t really taking all the air. It was the sound of a newborn baby one day. I went from swiping messages with my thumb to a full blown panic attack. A young man followed me to my car when people watched me desperately suck in air. I ran from the store, leaving my full cart, embarrassed and dying.

“Ahh, I was wondering if that was the problem. I have asthma too,” the boy smiled when I dove into my car and pulled an inhaler from the console. I didn’t have asthma, I had anxiety. Lila told me the inhaler was all in my mind
and it wouldn’t work. I didn’t care. My mind told me it was the needed air my lungs were searching for. I gave myself asthma. As impossible as that is, I believed it.

“Yes, sorry about that. I think
I’ll just come back for my groceries tomorrow. Will that be okay?” I asked the bagboy, feeling my airways expand, allowing my lungs fresh, New York smog. It was enough. I felt myself relax, knowing I wasn’t going to die. Not that day, anyway. And I certainly wasn’t returning to that store.

“I don’t want any more medication,” I complained. Four was enough.

“McKenzie. You can’t keep doing this. You’re holding something in that you need to let out,” Lila pleaded, sitting beside me.

“Yeah, lots of things, but I am talking to you. I haven’t lied to you
, yet.”

“Do you normally lie to your therapist
s?”

“Yes. Well, not at first. I won’t lie to you for a while yet.”

“You mean the rape part?”

“Well, no. I mean
, not really. I guess I refuse to talk about that. Yeah. I don’t want to talk about that part.”

Lila audibly sighed
and leaned back. “What do you want, McKenzie?”

I looked over, feeling my breathing regulate. “What do you mean?”

“Why are you here? If I were a magic pill, what would you want me to do?”

“I don’t know.” I didn’t know. That was a dumb question. How was I supposed to answer that?
I was there because I needed medication that nobody would give me without doing therapy.

“When was your first visit with a
psychiatrist?”

“Um, I was twelve.”

“Why?”

I shrugged my shoulders. I knew why. I just didn’t have time to get into it. I had a
Fashion Week to design and a letter to write. “I’m fine now. I don’t need this,” I said, handing the prescription back to her.

“Take it. It’s good for three months. They’ll
reduce the anxiety.”

“They won’t work. I don’t need them.”

Lila stood with me and placed her hand on my forearm. “You need to stop living in the past.”

“I don’t live in the past. I hate the past,” I chuckled.
As if. Really? Of all people living in the past, it wasn’t me. I never wanted to go back there. I spent the last seven years of my life trying to forget it.

“We’ll talk about it next week.”

“Talk about what?” I asked, confused. What was there to talk about? Okay, maybe I didn’t like her as much as I thought I did.

Lila walked to the door and crossed her arms. She looked up at me from her short frame
, confounded. “I’m just betting that when we reach a certain point in your story, you’re going to be on to the next shrink. The story never gets told, does it, McKenzie?”

Wow. Is that what I did? “I’ve got to go,” I said, trying to derail the conversation
that I needed time to translate first. Lila knew that. She was more manipulative than I was.

The
days leading up to Fashion Week were exhausting. Colton watched me carefully struggle with the creativity Jane was trying to force from me. It wasn’t coming no matter how hard I tried. I had barely slept at all in two weeks and I still hadn’t written the letter. Even though I told myself, over and over, I’d do it. I never did.

Colto
n took on the concerned role after our first encounter. Always lecturing me about things and my life, asking personal information that pissed me off. It irritated the hell out of me. I didn’t need him getting all daddy-like on me. I got enough lecturing from my mother. I didn’t need more.

I thought more and more about what Lila had said. I had been going fr
om therapist to therapist, retelling the story. Over and over. For whatever reason, I wasn’t letting it die. Was it because of Mr. Nichols? Was it because of sending him to prison? Was it because of my parents and the way I was raised? Why did I feel the need to live through this crazy life, over and over?

“McKenzie. McKenzie. McKenzie. I don’t know what to do with you. Where is my McKenzie that shined
this week last year? We’re running out of time. I need you. Please, McKenzie. I’m begging you,” Jane pleaded, pulling me from my thoughts for the, well, I don’t know how many times. A lot.

“I’ve got it, Jane. I don’t work like this. I need peace and quiet. You two chattering about this and that
is what’s keeping me from seeing anything innovative. I’m going to my office. Let me work through a few things on my own.”

I walked out, and
hid myself in my office. I pulled up the layout and some of the fall fashions before opening a blank document, unable to stay focused on the job I needed to finish, or at least start.

Dear board of parol
e,

My name is McKenzie Perry. I am one of the victims from the rape case back in 2005.

That lasted for one sentence. That’s all I got. One sentence. What do you say to a parole board when you want your accuser to be set free? How did you word that without sounding like a nut job?

“Come in,” I called, giving up
on that, too. I walked over to the little refrigerator and downed half a bottle of cold water.

“Jane wanted you to see these. It’s the
hats. I think we should go with the knit ones.”

“Because you know anything about fashion,” I teased
Colton.

“You okay?”

“Stop asking me that. You don’t have the right to ask me if I’m okay. You’re my coworker. That’s it.”

“Until you decide to go off the deep end,” he accused. I looked up, feeling awkward.
That was the first time he ever mentioned that night. I was sure he’d never had sex with a lunatic like me. I enlightened him by being enlightened myself. I did things he probably would have never experienced without me. 

“I’m sorry, McKenzie. I didn’t mean it that way,” Colton said, moving to my seat behind my desk.

“Get out, Colton,” I ordered in calm quiet manner. He was right, and I didn’t want to talk about it. Colton knew me. Colton was one of very few people I let see this side of me. He knew me and he still wanted me. I couldn’t handle that in my life. Not right now.

“What the hell is this, McKenzie? You were raped? Is that why you’re so screwed up?”

“No. Get out. Leave me alone,” I said, sounding like I was twelve, not twenty-six.

“McKenzie, why didn’t you tell me?” he
questioned, coming to me. I backed up.

“Because it’s none of your business. Leave me alone. Please
, just get out.”

Colton left, but I could tell he didn’t want to. He wanted me to fold, take comfort
in him and let him be my superhero. He couldn’t. I tried that with AJ back in Detroit. It didn’t work for me like that. I wasn’t like most girls when it came to men. I never had been. Not for as long as I could remember.

Spending hours in front of my computer, I thought about what I had to do. I needed sleep, and I needed to get this project done. I looked at the clock, deciding t
o do what I promised myself and Lila I would never do. I’d give it two more days, but that was it. If I didn’t sleep soon, I was going to scream, and I would have no choice.

Locking up, I headed home, hoping to find one straggling food truck left on the streets. I wasn’t much into cooking these days. Hell, I wasn’t much into anything these days. I worked. I had to work, especially these last couple weeks. The whole thing was wreaking havoc on my sanity. I just wanted it o
ver with. I hated Fashion Week and I hated parole.

“I wish you wouldn’t walk the streets alone
at this time of night,” Colton said, stopping the elevator just in time. I didn’t mind walking the streets alone. I didn’t mind it at all. Maybe I was secretly asking for it.

“I think I’ll be okay,” I reminded him with a smile, quickly reverting my eyes back to the elevator doors. I couldn’t look at him. He’d freshened up. I could smell the new scent of Felioscios looming in the elevator. He was going out.

“Have a drink with me.”

“I’m good. I’ll see you Monday,” I said, rushing out and away from Colton Briggs.

Answering my mother’s call, I did what Colton also told me not to do. I paid no attention to the lecture about being on my phone and not observing what was going on around me while I walked the busy city. Maybe I didn’t care. Maybe I wanted someone to grab me, pull me down a backstreet, do horrific things to me, and leave me for dead. That’s what I thought my life was worth. That’s how much I wanted to go on like I was, how much I valued my own life.  I was a twenty-six year old, successful loser.

“Hi, M
om,” I answered.

“McKenzie, did you get your letter sent out?”

I rolled my eyes and hit the walk button on Park Place. “I’ll do it when I get home. I have a job, you know.”

“You said that when I called last week. You only have a month. Get it sent out, Mack. I don’t know what you’re waiting on.”

“I will. I don’t need you to remind me.”

“I’m sorry. I just don’t want that bastard getting out. I want him to live there for the rest of his life.”

“Well, that’s not going to happen. He didn’t get life. Even if he doesn’t get out this time, he only has three more years. Besides, I’m in New York City. I’m not worried about him finding me.”

“But aren’t you worried about him doing this to someone else? Look what he’s done to you. Look what he’s done to Gia.”

“What do you mean? Have you talked to Melanie or Kyle? Did she say something about Gia?”

“No. I haven’t heard from Melanie. I listed a house in
Providence the other day. Mr. Porter. You remember him?”

“Yes. He was our current events teacher. What did he say about Gia?” I didn’t care about her listing or bald Mr. Potter. I cared about Gia.

“Well, he said he was at Candy Summer’s wedding. You remember her, right?”

“Yes, mom. I hated her. Was Gia there?”

“According to Mr. Potter, Gia showed up at the reception. I guess they had to make her leave. She was mess. Mr. Potter said she was all strung out on something.”

“That’s not true, Mom,” I assured her. Gia would never be strung out on drugs. I knew Gia better than anyone knew Gia.
I knew Gia better than Gia knew Gia. She would never let herself go like that. Gia had Jake. Jake loved Gia like nobody ever would. If the saying goes that everyone has a someone, Jake was that to Gia. I knew it since we were fifteen years old. We didn’t go sit in the baking sun every summer watching him toss a football around for nothing. Gia dragged me there every time he was at the field. 

Granted
, Gia had several other boyfriends through the years, but she always ended back up with Jake. Jake took her V-card. Jake was the one she always went running back to. I remember how angry he was that day. He was escorted out by the police because they wouldn’t let him see her in the hospital.

“I don’t understand, McKenzie.”

“What?”

“Why you don’t talk to her. Why you guys just stopped being friends. I don’t get it.”

“You don’t talk to Melanie anymore. You haven’t for probably as long as Gia and me. Why not, Mom?”

“I don’t know. Things just changed after that day.”

I knew what changed. They blamed each other. I overheard a conversation, more like an argument. My mom was accusing her mom for not being more of a parent, for letting Gia run wild, and not holding her accountable when she got into trouble. My mom really didn’t have room to talk about Mel’s lack of parenting skills over Gia. My mother could have taken that award with flying colors. Like I said. That day changed a lot of people and nobody knew how to move on.

“Can we not talk about that, or Gia? How’s dad? Did he decide to take the job in Texas?”

“He’s still debating. It’s so far away from you. I don’t know if I like it. It’s not going to happen for a year, but we still need to decide.”

“Mom, we talk once or twice a month. I haven’t been home in three years. You don’t have to worry about me, besides, you both hate the winters there.”

“Yeah, I guess I’m ready. Maybe you’d come and visit more.”

“I doubt it. I’m busy. I don’t really work like normal people.”

“Your dad misses you.”

Yeah, sure he did. That almost made me puke in my mouth a little.
“I’ll call him. I got to go, Mom, my boss is calling me. I’ll talk to you in a few days,” I lied. I wasn’t calling my dad. My dad didn’t miss me. If he did, he would call. He didn’t call and he didn’t ask about me. She was lying, too. Everybody lied.

“Write the letter.”

“Yeah, okay. Bye.”

Looking at the strange number, I ignored it.
It was the same strange number that called me last week. Looking it up, I wondered if it was Gia. The online search said it was a Las Vegas number. Surely not. Gia wouldn’t be in Vegas, would she? She knew what was going on. The whole town knew what was going on. My mom had just told me about the petition circling, trying to keep him in prison. Gia had to know he was up for parole. I wondered how Gia felt about that. Was she okay with him getting out?

“Oh my god. Thank you for being ou
t so late,” I praised, walking to the food truck. Not just any food truck, it was my favorite food truck. I swear they had the best eggrolls in all of New York. I didn’t understand what the Chinese man said, but he understood me. I had my greasy smelling eggrolls. That was all that mattered.

“Good evening.
” Charles nodded, opening the door to my building.

“Thank you, Char
les.” I smiled with a nod to my nice doorman.

I went about my night
habitually. I ate one of the eggrolls, showered, and walked to the small balcony with a glass of wine. The evening air had a bit of a chill to it. I rubbed the forming goose bumps from my arms and sipped my wine, overlooking the twinkling the city.

Looking down twenty-
one stories, I wondered what would happen if an earthquake hit the city. Not just a little jolt. I’m talking huge, like the great Alaskan earthquake back in sixty-four. Closing my eyes, the wind blew my wet hair while I visualized it all being over. This life of hell being buried beneath dust, ash, and rubble. I opened my eyes after I placed my hands on the cold stone, keeping me from falling. I could have sworn I felt it shake.

I went to bed thinking about Gia that night. Was she really at that party messed up on something? No. That was just the talk of the town. Shayla Harbor was always that like that. Gia and I couldn’t get away with anything without someone telling our dads. It was sort of like a small town inside of a big town. Providence was the closest place to any real action, besides the tourists that came in and out of Shayla Harbor.

Gia and I used to bitch up a storm about the stupid tourists. We had nothing to see. It was just a quaint little town with breathtaking views of the Atlantic Ocean. Shayla Harbor relied on the tourists. All the little shops catered to the tourists, even our favorite little ice cream shop by the bay.

It wasn’t really our favorite, just a good decoy for our parents. Our mothers used to make our dad’s take us there when we were little. We loved it then, but when we got older was when we really loved it. It was a bit of a hike, but secluded from everyone. Gia lost her virginity in that cove to Jake. I pretended to, but never went through with it. I never got into boys from school like she did.