Torn (38 page)

She was lying in the overflowing
bathtub, still dressed in her black pajamas, the color a startling contrast to the
claret she was submerged in. I raced over, adrenaline kicking in as I turned
off the taps and shoved my hand into the ruby red water to pull the chain and
open up the drain. I turned and raced to the other end and stuck my hands under
her arms to haul her up out of the water. Her head flopped back, her mouth ajar
as water trickled out of it. If I’d thought she’d looked pale earlier tonight,
it was nothing compared to her now, and I could see deep jagged cuts from her
wrists up her forearms where she’d cut them open with something.

“Ma, no, don’t you dare leave us
now, not after everything. Don’t you fucking dare!” I yelled as I held her up
until the water had drained enough to set her back down again.

I didn’t know what to do first. I
had no idea how much blood she’d lost or how long she’d been underwater. Mouth
to mouth or stop the bleeding. Fuck. What was I supposed to do? I’d done CPR as
part of my degree, but right now my mind was blank.
Think, Nate, think
.
I made a snap decision and grabbed all the towels I could see and threw them
onto the floor, quickly spreading them, then took a deep breath as I approached
the tub from the side and braced my legs. I lifted her nearly weightless body
up into my arms and lay her down on her back on the already soggy towels. Her
skin felt cold and had a blue tinge. My training kicked in, my brain bombarded
with the steps that had been hammered into me.

I positioned her head and opened
her airways, then leaned down and put my ear to her mouth to listen for any
signs of breathing as I watched to see if her chest was moving. I heard
nothing, saw nothing, and felt nothing on my cheek. So I got on my knees and
positioned my hands as I started to count. I gave her thirty chest compressions
before two rescue breaths and repeated, and repeated, and repeated. I kept
going, begging her to help me, to start breathing again, but it was like she
was taunting me. I could hear her voice telling me how she’d warned me. How
she’d said she didn’t want to live if she didn’t have me, how I needed to choose
her or Sky. I thought they were idle threats, I didn’t know. How was I supposed
to know?

“Come on, Ma!” I yelled.

Part of me knew I was wasting my
time. My arms were the strongest part of my body and they were already tiring
and still nothing. I had no idea how long I’d been doing this, but there was no
way I was stopping. I’d already failed her, I’d let her think that there was no
choice but to climb in that bath and cut herself. I wasn’t failing her again.
Not if there was the slightest chance. I nodded as I heard the sirens, gritting
my teeth as I pushed through the pain burning my arms, shaking them before
breathing into her, then going back to her chest. I heard footsteps running and
saw two sets of feet enter the room, black boots and black trousers.

“Help her, please help her,” I
begged, not stopping until my hands were gently removed and they took over as I
sat back on my heels. This couldn’t be happening. First Dad, now Ma? How was I
supposed to tell Josh?

I’d left the house in darkness,
following the ambulance in my car with Josh sitting silently at my side. We
returned the same way but in daylight. I had no idea what time it was as I
unlocked the door. Josh went to get himself a drink as I tossed my keys in the
bowl on the hall table, frowning as I remembered doing that when I came in last
night. Only then I’d been happy. I retraced my route, heading down the hall to
her bedroom. This time the door was open. The orange dinner stain was still
there. The window was still shut. The carpet still damp and stained, but now
the bathroom door was open, and pink-tinged towels had soaked up the remaining
water on the tiled floor, the rest having disappeared down the drain. I moved
slowly and stepped inside, my eyes on the bath replaying every second,
wondering what I could have done differently. If I could have saved her if I’d
pulled her out of the water before turning off the taps. If she’d have tried to
kill herself if I hadn’t gone on my date.

But I had gone on my date, and
she had killed herself. The doctor at Boulder City ER pronounced her dead on
arrival, and told me that from the wounds on her arms, she’d have died quickly
and probably peacefully, totally unaware that she’d sunk down under the water.
“There’s nothing else you could have done, son. I’m sorry for your loss.” Those
were his last words to me before his pager beeped and he ran off to try and fix
someone else. I’d had to speak to the police, fill in a shitload of paperwork,
all while trying to comfort Josh, who’d reverted to the young boy who’d sobbed
when the police had turned up at our door to tell us our dad had been killed. I
was on autopilot, going through the motions. I hadn’t even taken the time to
cry yet. I walked up to the tiled wall at the top end of the bathtub and slid
down it to slump on the floor as I stared at the pink towels. I suddenly felt
drained. She was gone. Was it wrong that I felt a tiny bit of relief? That her
suffering was over? That mine was too? She was my ma, for God’s sake. What was
wrong with me?

“Nate?”

I heard Josh’s voice, but
couldn’t respond. I wasn’t sure what else to say. What could I say that I
hadn’t already? I just needed to be alone for a while.

“Nate? Oh God,” he gasped, as his
eyes took in the state of the bathroom, the blood stains in the bath and up the
walls. I could hear him still talking, but it was like I was underwater, like I
was drowning. Everything seemed muffled and far away, and I felt tired and numb.

So very tired and numb.

Sky

Now

“Pops, can’t you drive any faster?”
I begged.

“I’m already well over the speed
limit, Sky,” he replied, shooting me a look in the rearview mirror. I threw
myself back in the leather seat with a sigh and checked my phone again.

“We’ll be there in a minute,
sweetheart. Josh is a sensible boy. If Nate’s hurt, he’ll have called an
ambulance. Try not to panic.”

“Too late, Mom,” I fretted,
trying to take some deep breaths. I leapt out of the car before Pops had even
turned off the ignition, ran to their front door, and started hammering on it.
By the time it opened, Mom and Pops were already standing behind me, and I gasped
and put my hands in front of my mouth to see the state of Josh. He looked pale
and his eyes were red from crying.

“She’s dead, Sky. She’s dead and
Nate’s gone catatonic or something. I don’t know what to do,” he choked. I flew
at him and threw my arms around him, and he immediately clutched me back.

“What happened?” I cried, torn
between feeling devastated for him and elated that Nate hadn’t been in an
accident.

“She killed herself, slit … slit
her wrists,” he sobbed, shaking in my arms.

“Oh God, Josh, I’m so sorry.” I
kissed the back of his neck as he cried on my shoulder.

“Sky, go with your dad to see if
Nate’s ok,” Mom’s soft voice interrupted as she rubbed my back. “I’ll look
after Josh and make a coffee for everyone, ok?”

“Is that ok, Josh?” I whispered,
as I kissed him again.

“Yeah, he needs you, Sky. He’s
just shut down, it’s like he can’t even hear me talking to him. He’s sitting in
her bathroom, but …” He sniffed as he released me and straightened up, running
his sleeve across his face. “It’s not pretty. There’s blood.”

“Oh God, Diego, go get him out of
there, right now,” Mom urged, as she pushed me out of the way and pulled Josh
into her arms, stroking his hair as he started crying again.

“This way, Pops.” I grabbed his
hand and hurried down to her room, which I’d only seen the once. There was only
one other door in there, apart from the sliding closet ones, so I headed to it
and pulled up short as I stood in the doorframe and took in the scene in front
of me, Pops running into my back.

“Oh my God,” he muttered. There
were blood-stained towels on the floor and blood all around the bath and up the
walls, even on the ceiling. And Nate was just sitting on the floor, staring
vacantly at the pile of towels, the white shirt he’d been wearing last night
covered in pink stains too.

“Nate?” I called gently as I let
go of Pops’ hand and carefully skirted the towels. Nate blinked a few times,
but didn’t look up at me. I dropped to my knees at his side and ran one of my
hands through his hair, fighting tears to see him looking so broken and lost. “Nate,
it’s me, Sky. Can you hear me?” I clasped his face and gently tilted it to
force him to look at me. There was a flash of recognition and he opened his
mouth, but nothing came out. “Pops?” I sniffed as I looked up at him, feeling
helpless.

“Come on, sweetheart, move out of
the way, I’ll get him up. We need to get him away from all of this. Where’s his
room?” Pops stated as he gently pushed me aside.

“Follow me,” I replied. I watched
as Pops hauled Nate up off the floor and supported him as he stumbled. I took a
shaky breath, devastated to see him like this, and led the way out of the
bathroom of horror and over to Nate’s room.

“Find a bag and pack him some
clothes and toiletries, then go and do the same for Josh. They’re coming home
with us,” Pops stated.

“Are you serious?” I searched
Pops’ face for answers.

“I’m not leaving them here to
fend for themselves. They can come and stay with us while we get the place
cleaned up and they decide what they’re going to do. Don’t just stand there
staring at me, Sky. Pack. The sooner we’re all out of here, the better,” he
urged.

I sat in the middle on the way
home, holding Nate and Josh’s hand, though I wasn’t even sure Nate was aware.
He seemed to be going through the motions. Running on autopilot. And he still
hadn’t said anything.

Pops and Josh ushered him in, Mom
flashing Pops a warning look as he went to object when she suggested that he
take Nate to my bedroom. She repeated her order and said she’d set Josh up in
the guest room, then go and make some lunch for us all. They sat him on my bed
as I dropped his overnight bag on the floor and went to give them both a hug.

“Will he be ok?” Josh asked as
they both lingered.

“I think he’s exhausted. I’ll get
him changed and see if he’ll go to sleep. I’ll keep an eye on him. Have you
told Billy?” I asked.

“God no, I didn’t even think,”
Josh replied.

“Come on, son, I’ll show you to
your room and then you can come upstairs to call him, ok?”

“Thank you, Mr. Torres, this is
so good of you.” Josh offered him a feeble smile, and Pops flung his arm around
his shoulder.

“A friend of Sky’s is a friend of
mine,” he stated as he walked him over to the door. He flashed me a concerned
look over his shoulder, but I gave him a smile and nodded that I’d be ok and
breathed a sigh of relief as they left. I turned back to my man, who was
watching me silently.

“Hey. I’m going to look after
you, ok? First I’m going to get you undressed, then we’re going to clean you
up, then you’re getting into my bed to have a sleep. You tell me if you need
anything, ok?”

He didn’t reply, but kept his
eyes on mine as I walked over and started to undo his shirt, trying to ignore
the dried blood on it. I managed to get it off, then took his hands and gently
tugged to get him to stand up so I could undo his jeans. I could hear his
breathing quicken, like he was aware it was me touching him. I managed to pull
them down, then pushed him back down again and bent over to undo his laces, and
removed his shoes, socks, and jeans. I went to the bathroom and filled a bowl
with hot water, grabbed a nailbrush and some soap, a facecloth, and a towel,
and headed back. I put the bowl on the floor and dipped the facecloth, then
gently wiped his pale face first, then his forearms and hands, removing the
dried blood and taking off the leather bracelet and ring I’d given him. I set
them on the bedside table, thinking how they’d probably need to be scrubbed,
too. Then I soaped up my hands and rubbed his, using the nailbrush to get rid
of the dried specks of blood he had trapped under there before rinsing and
drying them. I sloshed the pink water down the toilet and threw his dirty clothes,
and the facecloth and towel, in the laundry basket. Then I kicked off my shoes,
removed my jeans, and padded back over to him. He was clutching the edge of my
bed, staring at the floor.