bad the brain damage will be.”
“Joey will give a statement as soon as he wakes up. He’ll tell them you didn’t mean it.”
“How do you know that? He could be pissed off when he wakes up and suggest a lengthy punishment for me to serve.” Elaine was silent. “I threw the first punch. I hit him first. He kept telling me to stop but I was so mad I wouldn’t even let him explain! I know how Joey is. I knew he wouldn’t take that from me and not fight back after how his stepdad used to push him around. And now look what’s happened to him. They’re charging me with aggravated assault with a deadly weapon. I’m just going to plead guilty.”
“Don’t! They only gave you that charge because Raul lied. I talked to him last night. He’s gonna tell the truth and the charges will be dropped.”
“Don’t be naïve. All the charges won’t be dropped, Elaine. Joey’s still hurt and I deserve what I get. I don’t want to drag everyone through this any longer by pleading not guilty and having a public trial.”
“If you plead guilty to anything I will never forgive you,” she cried. “You have to fight this!”
“You’re so stubborn Laney!” he shouted. “You can’t let anything go! You have to be in control of everything! So stubborn,” he breathed, sounding exhausted. “II have to go.”
“But you still have nine minutes left.”
“I have to go.”
With that he hung up.
The guard escorted Emanuel back to his cell where he lay down on the cold hard bed, staring up at the watermarked ceiling, and waiting to be brought in front of the judge.
******
Joey’s hospital bed was like a clearing in a field of flowers. I fingered open the tiny card on one of the vases, carefully moving aside wide-eyed daisies to get to it.
Get well soon, Papi . Your dinner’s getting cold. :
XOXO,
Denise
I had no idea that she and Joey knew each other as well as her card suggested. I walk along the small table at the window, reading all the cards that came with flowers and those that came alone. I recognize all the names. All the cards are filled with prayers and wishes for Joey’s improvement, lipsticked lip prints and doodled hearts. Some of the cards make some unkind remarks about Manny. One chick who signed her card with the name “Miss Used” wrote that she hoped my brother rotted in jail. She is so lucky she didn’t sign her real name.
The crisp white bed sheets come up to Joey’s chest and his blue hospital gown is ruffled and askew, exposing his collar bone. The wrinkles in his clothing falsely suggest that he’s moved a muscle these last eighteen hours. I step closer and place both hands out onto the plastic bed rails, still keeping my distance. It’s hard to believe it’s all real. Joey is known for being lively. He has effervescence, an energy , whether he was angry or happy you could feel it radiating from him, and right into you.
I always tried to ignore the magnetism I felt towards him but it was almost impossible. I remember watching him walk into the classroom. I’d forget what I was thinking about or writing about before he’d walked in. I hated him for that. His clear blue eyes seemed to look into me. Now, seeing the pallid skin of his face, one would never guess that El Fuego is his nickname. Even his lively deep red curls are gone. They shaved his head during his cranial surgery. The softest looking curls I’ve ever seen were replaced with cold vulnerable scalp.
I inch closer to him and lean against the railing. While I am desperately chasing after the strings in my life that are blowing away in the chaos, and female acquaintances rush to buy flowers and write tear-stained, lipstick-smeared cards, and doctors run around to put him back together again, Joey Kinsley calmly sleeps. To some extent I envy his serenity, though his peace is just a pause before the consequences yet to be seen. I glance down
“Joey will give a statement as soon as he wakes up. He’ll tell them you didn’t mean it.”
“How do you know that? He could be pissed off when he wakes up and suggest a lengthy punishment for me to serve.” Elaine was silent. “I threw the first punch. I hit him first. He kept telling me to stop but I was so mad I wouldn’t even let him explain! I know how Joey is. I knew he wouldn’t take that from me and not fight back after how his stepdad used to push him around. And now look what’s happened to him. They’re charging me with aggravated assault with a deadly weapon. I’m just going to plead guilty.”
“Don’t! They only gave you that charge because Raul lied. I talked to him last night. He’s gonna tell the truth and the charges will be dropped.”
“Don’t be naïve. All the charges won’t be dropped, Elaine. Joey’s still hurt and I deserve what I get. I don’t want to drag everyone through this any longer by pleading not guilty and having a public trial.”
“If you plead guilty to anything I will never forgive you,” she cried. “You have to fight this!”
“You’re so stubborn Laney!” he shouted. “You can’t let anything go! You have to be in control of everything! So stubborn,” he breathed, sounding exhausted. “II have to go.”
“But you still have nine minutes left.”
“I have to go.”
With that he hung up.
The guard escorted Emanuel back to his cell where he lay down on the cold hard bed, staring up at the watermarked ceiling, and waiting to be brought in front of the judge.
******
Joey’s hospital bed was like a clearing in a field of flowers. I fingered open the tiny card on one of the vases, carefully moving aside wide-eyed daisies to get to it.
Get well soon, Papi . Your dinner’s getting cold. :
XOXO,
Denise
I had no idea that she and Joey knew each other as well as her card suggested. I walk along the small table at the window, reading all the cards that came with flowers and those that came alone. I recognize all the names. All the cards are filled with prayers and wishes for Joey’s improvement, lipsticked lip prints and doodled hearts. Some of the cards make some unkind remarks about Manny. One chick who signed her card with the name “Miss Used” wrote that she hoped my brother rotted in jail. She is so lucky she didn’t sign her real name.
The crisp white bed sheets come up to Joey’s chest and his blue hospital gown is ruffled and askew, exposing his collar bone. The wrinkles in his clothing falsely suggest that he’s moved a muscle these last eighteen hours. I step closer and place both hands out onto the plastic bed rails, still keeping my distance. It’s hard to believe it’s all real. Joey is known for being lively. He has effervescence, an energy , whether he was angry or happy you could feel it radiating from him, and right into you.
I always tried to ignore the magnetism I felt towards him but it was almost impossible. I remember watching him walk into the classroom. I’d forget what I was thinking about or writing about before he’d walked in. I hated him for that. His clear blue eyes seemed to look into me. Now, seeing the pallid skin of his face, one would never guess that El Fuego is his nickname. Even his lively deep red curls are gone. They shaved his head during his cranial surgery. The softest looking curls I’ve ever seen were replaced with cold vulnerable scalp.
I inch closer to him and lean against the railing. While I am desperately chasing after the strings in my life that are blowing away in the chaos, and female acquaintances rush to buy flowers and write tear-stained, lipstick-smeared cards, and doctors run around to put him back together again, Joey Kinsley calmly sleeps. To some extent I envy his serenity, though his peace is just a pause before the consequences yet to be seen. I glance down
Similar Books
