How He Died

     

 

“WHAT what what what what what what”, Lilly cry-whispered into the phone as she sank to the floor, her knees buckling in slow motion.

“Bert is dead sweetie, I’m so sorry, I wanted to tell you so that no one else did”. His mother sounded robotic.

 

She still was not sure what she was being told. Her mind was not grasping the words. “I’m so sorry June. Are you ok? What happened? I don’t understand. Where is Bert?” She looked up at Jared who was watching her, and he looked terrified.

 

“I was at the house today honey. I brought Bert some new pants that I had hemmed up for him, you know he wears his pants out so fast. Him and Kristen had a fight and her Dad was there. I didn’t know. I just brought him his pants. He was crying. He had been drinking again. He was sitting on the couch. Ron and I were standing in front of him; we were so close to him. He said he was going to kill himself and we were trying to calm him down. We thought he was just upset. We didn’t know he had a gun. We couldn’t see it. It was too little. He shot himself in the head before we could do anything. Kristen’s Dad almost got to him. I called 911. I wrapped his pants around his head and held him until they got there. It was too late sweetie. They tried but it was too late. Honey, what’s that sound? Sweetie are you ok?”

 

Lilly could hear it too and she did not know what it was. She stopped and listened. The sound was coming out of her. It was high pitched, it was not a scream and it was not a groan or a moan and she seemed unable to make herself stop making the sound. Jared put his hands on her shoulders and as she looked up at him; the sound stopped. She whispered, “I think that was me June, I’m so sorry. Where is he? Where are you?”

 

“I just got home sugar. I have to take a shower. I’m covered in blood.” June's voice caught, choked. She sounded like she might cry but she made a soft humming sound instead. “I really should go, I have to call grandma, honey. She loved Bert, and you, so much. I just had to tell you right away. I just know how fast you could find out and I had to be the one to tell you.”

 

“Thank you. I love you. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what to say or what to do. Where is he?”

 

“He’s at the hospital honey, I love you.”

 

“I love you too.”

 

Lilly set the phone on the floor and placed both of her hands next to her on the ground, kneeling between them. This is all my fault. This is all my fault. This is all my fault. That was all she could think. She had left him. She had divorced him. She had moved on. She had just moved in with Jared a few months ago and she had just gotten engaged only two weeks ago. She had changed her cell number because of Jared’s ex-wife and she had not called Bert yet to give him the new one. They had stayed friends, in the loose sense of the word, as in the best that two people who had married each other and then divorced one another could do. If she had been there he would never have had a gun. This would not have happened.

 

“Lilly, are you ok? What's going on?” Jared was sitting on the floor in front of her and holding her hands. 

 

She had not noticed that she was shaking; a very light vibration. “Bert is dead, he killed himself”.

 

“What, oh my god, are you ok? What can I do?” Jared had met Bert a few times. Her and Bert had even talked about a double date with his new girlfriend Kristen.

 

Kristen was actually an old girlfriend, renewed. Bert and her had had a volatile relationship and Bert had shared a few of the details. She was his equal; his match. She could drink as much as he could, and more. They did hard drugs together. Meth, cocaine, pretty much whatever they could get there hands on. And Kristen hit just as hard as Bert did, but more often. She had seen Bert’s bruises. But what could Lilly do? Even Bert’s brother, who was just as big of an addict as he was, had called Lilly and asked for help. It had gotten so much worse since the divorce. But what could she do? She couldn’t save him - change him - fix him while they were married; so how could she do it now that they were divorced and that they had both moved on.

 

“I need to see him. Please drive me to the hospital.”

 

“OK”. What more could they say to each other. This was new territory for both of them. A major life disaster and they had only been dating for a year. 

 

The ride to the hospital was long and silent. Lilly’s tears had stopped, her body had gone numb, even her mind had gone quiet, but the vibrating continued. They arrived at the hospital and walked in together holding hands. She walked up to the main desk and said that she needed to see someone who had just died. The receptionist asked the name and told them to take a seat. She felt awkward making the request but knew that this must be normal. It had to be. She could not be the only person to have ever had this feeling; she had to see him because she just could not believe it. There had to be a mistake. He is only 29 years old.

 

A very kind and sad looking woman came from around the corner and introduced herself. She wanted to know how Lilly knew Bert. “We were married. I’m his ex-wife.”

 

The woman looked down at the floor and said, “I didn’t realize he had been married. I am very sorry for your loss. It will take us a few minutes to prepare the body as he has already been moved to the morgue. I will come out and get you.”

 

Lilly and Jared sat back down. Still silence. Not really an awkward silence, but borderline. Luckily it did not last long as the woman came back out quickly. “Please follow me”. She did not try to make small talk and Lilly was thankful for that. 

 

The three of them entered a cold room that was not lit very well. There was a metal gurney in the middle of the room and a bag on top of it with a body inside. The woman unzipped just the upper portion, above the collarbone, and pulled it down. Lilly moved past her and around so that she could see his face. It was bloated, pale, and their was a tube coming out of his mouth and covering his chin.  Most of his head was shaved and wrapped in a bloody bandage. This was not Bert. It did not even remotely look like him. Lilly looked up at the woman. And the woman understood; this was not her first time witnessing shock, grief, and denial. And, she knew the look of pure and utter helplessness from a sudden and devastating loss.

 

And the woman must have also seen Bert's body once already. And she would have known that as his ex-wife, there were parts of him that were vastly more recognizable than his face was at this moment. The woman unzipped the bag, slightly past the hair on the chest. Lilly saw the chest, the red curly chest hair, and there was a flicker of recognition. The woman pulled out Bert’s left arm. 

 

“He really does have a beautiful tattoo”, the woman said. And there it was. The full sleeve arm tattoo that Bert and Lilly had designed together and that she had sat for hours watching be inked onto his skin. The arm that had held her; and the arm that had looked so beautiful and punk rock when he took his shirt off and lit up a cigarette. She knew that arm like she knew her own arm. And without hesitating or asking for permission she reached out and grabbed his shoulder. Cold. Hard. Lifeless flesh. Meat. She had never known what a lifeless body felt like, but she felt it, a very distinct and unforgettable feeling. This was Bert’s body but Bert was gone. Dead.

 

She pulled back her hand fast and held it to her chest. “I have to go. Thank you.” And she left.

 

            Jared was quick behind her, “Are you ok”?

 

            “No, I have to get out of here.” Her voice cracked. Lilly walked fast for the exit with Jared following close behind her. She knew the tears were coming and she had to make it to the car first.

 

            As soon as they were safely ensconced in the vehicle she let loose. Her body heaved, she sobbed, she choked, and she blinded herself with her own tears and nearly drowned in them. And Jared sat there, watching and waiting. One hand lightly touching her, eyes turning red, but not a single tear falling. He just kept watching her. He had never suffered a loss of a loved one and had absolutely no idea what to do other than to be there. And he hoped that was enough.

 

            “I have to see June and John. They live close to here. Please drive me there.” Jared drove her to her ex in-law’s house. Following her directions. It was close by. And they arrived almost too quickly.

 

            “Should I wait here?” Jared asked. Lilly looked at him and knew that was a great question. What is appropriate? What is right? Who knows?

 

            “No, please come with me, I need you.” And they went to the door. Bert's father John answered, he was crying. Lilly hugged him, “I’m so sorry”. What else is there to say? Nothing.

 

            John opened the door to let her in, “John this is Jared”. They shook hands like gentlemen. It was awkward but John knew what happened between Lilly and Bert. And he blamed himself. He was a drunk. His sons were drunks. And everyone’s lives had been falling apart for a long time and now they had finally irreparably crashed.

 

            June came out from the bedroom, “oh honey”, and they held each other. This was not a quick obligatory hug; no, this was two women who had both lost someone that they loved very much and they were grieving together in one another’s arms. Crying, not sobbing and not loudly, but crying. Mourning. Grieving, and wishing that this were not happening and still feeling the disbelief. Bert was too young. Too young.  And less than three years ago they had still been married and these two women had been family; bonded by marriage and by friendship and by love. Three years ago June had prayed for a grandchild while Lilly had prayed for the opposite. Lilly was not prepared to bring a child into there home; no matter how many times Bert said he would quit drinking if she did. And, now for a brief moment, she felt both relief and regret over the child that never was.

 

            They let go of each other. John led everyone to the couch. Small talk was not happening. The awkward heat of the moment and the stifled tears were filling the room. Everyone stared at one other and after only a few more painful seconds the doorbell rang. 

 

            “How is everyone finding out so fast?” John asked. 

 

            Lilly and Jared got up. “I’m really sorry. We should go. I just had to see you two.”

 

            “Yes, go home and get some rest.” June took Lilly’s hands.

 

            “Please let me know when you make arrangements and if there is anything that I can do to help, just let me know. I want to help if I can.”

 

            “Oh, yes honey, I would. But Kristen said that her and her mother were going to make the arrangements. I will let you know.” There was more awkward silence before the doorbell rang again.

 

            “I love you.”

 

            “We love you too sweetheart. You take care of our Lilly, Ok?” June had finally acknowledged Jared.

 

            “I will Ma'am”. 

 

            They left; passing another young couple. This couple was covered in tattoos and piercings. They must be friends’ of Bert and Kristen.

 

----

            It has been one week. It is still too hard. It is too hard not to be sad all of the time and too hard to be so sad all of the time. Jared has young daughters. He has family, his mom and step-dad that live at the end of their dirt road. Jared's sister and her family, husband - daughter – son, also live on the same road. They own all of these acres in the beautiful high desert of Central Oregon. His mother holding them all close to her in this beautiful landscape that has been Lilly’s home since she was three years old. Lilly had never appreciated the beauty of it until she met Jared. She had always taken it for granted. Before knowing Jared she could not even have named the 10,000-foot peaks that dominated her backyard. Now she knows them all. And has summited a few herself, the non-technical one’s of course. Technical or not though, it was hard goddamned work! And she was proud.

            

            These are her thoughts as she tries for the tenth time to put a business-like respectable ponytail in her hair. And, once again, it looks like a bird has placed a nest on the top on her head.  She has never had so much difficulty fixing her own hair; but then again she has never gotten ready for the funeral of someone whom she had vowed to spend the rest of her life with, till death do us part. And now it was happening and she was alone. 

 

Her fiancée had planned a ski weekend in the mountains with all of his family and his two daughters months ago and for some reason it never occurred to Lilly to simply ask him to cancel. Or to at least cancel enough of the weekend to spend these few hours with her. She did not want to be a burden but part of her had hoped that he would just do it and know to do it without being asked. She did not want to appear as broken-hearted as she was to his family. So she ended up saying that she would go to the funeral by herself while he went to the ski lesson with his daughters, they were five and eight years old and were still adjusting to only seeing Daddy every other weekend and on Tuesdays. Everybody was suffering.

 

            She gave up on her hair. Put the knee length black dress on over the black bra, black panties, and black nylons she had on. She walked out and grabbed the black hoodie jacket that Bert had sewn red and black patches onto the pockets of.  She had liked the patches and had no sewing skills. He was pretty good at patching a pair of work pants so he surprised her with it on their second Christmas together. Sometimes he could be really sweet. Actually, sweet was the adjective that was usually used to describe Bert. Sweet when he was not drinking anyway.

 

            She texted her friend, a hairdresser, who had been a friend of Bert’s long before she even knew him. Nancy was making chili for the memorial potluck after the funeral. Bert had a big family. He also had a lot of friends. On top of that Bert's family, but not him, were Jehovah’s Witnesses so the whole church was coming. They ended up renting out a roller rink; which was the same roller rink that Kristen and a team of her friends played roller derby at, Kristen was hardcore. Lilly was probably lucky that Kristen had never tried to kick her ass.

 

            After getting the “of course, come over” text from her friend, Lilly left and went to Nancy’s house. Nancy would easily be able to get her hair up and manageable so that she did not look like a total idiot at the funeral. Nancy could also distract her with her boisterous personality and kitchen full of treats. But Lilly was afraid of herself. She was afraid of her feelings. She was afraid of her tears and sadness. She was having a hard time holding it together and Nancy could see that and played her part well.

 

            Lilly drove herself to the funeral to find that her family was already there. She ran to her brother and flung herself into his arms and started crying, which startled him. He was younger than her and she had always tried to protect his feelings so she had never let him see her in distress. She was the tough big sister. But, at this point in there lives, he was a man - a good man, and she needed him. She trusted him. And for her, trusting someone was even harder to do than loving someone. He put his arm around her and she hid inside. Until Max, Bert’s brother, walked up. He was holding his two-month-old daughter in his arms and Lilly had not met her yet. She looked deeply at Max’s face, so much like Bert’s, and she began sobbing again. They hugged and cried together. She realized she had no control over her tears and would just continue to fall apart.

 

            The pastor started talking and she knew she could not listen to it; so she asked Max if she could hold the baby while he went and sat down. Lilly could stand in the back that way and look like she was babysitting. She felt more like the baby was taking care of her though, she would be strong with an infant in her arms, Lilly did definitely know that much about herself. She walked back to stand next to her family with the baby that looked so much like the baby she had imagined having with Bert. The sweet baby nestled into her and she stopped listening to the sermon and she stopped listening to the crying and she just felt that tiny heart beat next to her own and for a brief moment found peace.

 

            It was a short-lived peace however. Music started, Johnny Cash, one of Bert’s favorites, so punk! Max walked back red-eyed. They hugged, said nothing, and he took the sweet angel from her arms. She saw Kristen and knew that this was something that she had to do.

 

            “I’m so sorry Kristen. I hope that you are ok. Can I do anything to help you?” Lilly reached out and touched Kristen’s elbow.

 

            Kristen slowly looked down at Lilly’s hand and for a split second Lilly wondered if she was going to get knocked out. Then she really looked at Kristen. Kristen was hammered. It probably wasn’t alcohol, most likely someone had given her a valium or three. And who could begrudge her for that. Kristen slurred her words, “Thank you Lilly. No, I’m not ok. I can’t believe this is happening; can you believe this is happening? We need to get together sometime, there are things that I need to tell you.” And she stumbled off.

 

            Lilly watched her stagger away until Kristen was with a group of other people and Lilly knew that she would not fall down. She also knew that there was nothing that Kristen could possibly tell her that she wanted to hear. Lilly knew that this would be the last time they would ever speak. That gave her relief. She looked around at all the tattooed people with funky colored hair and nose rings. This had never been her scene. This was Bert’s scene. He had pretended not to be so hard-core before they were married, and Lilly had pretended to be more hard-core. But they simply were never a match.

 

            People were eating. She checked in with June and John and with Bert’s grandparents. They were dear to her also. But no matter how much she felt like she should be here, she also knew she should not. This funeral was for Kristen, she was the "widow" and as long as Lilly was there she would draw attention from her. So Lilly walked her family out and was about to get in her own car when Max came running over and said, “let’s go next door and have a drink”. He took her arm; it really was not a question.

 

            Once in the dark bar she looked around. All of Bert’s best buddies from construction and from parties were around three tables that were pushed together. Even the asshole that used to buy Bert fifths of whiskey, that Lilly always had to pour down the drain the next morning, was there. A bunch of drunks and enablers; people that thought it was the coolest thing to drink Pabst and Maker’s Mark and to get hammered every goddamned night. Every single one of these men knew that they were a drunk and every single one of these men did not want to do it alone; so they dragged each other down.

 

            Bert yelled “make room” and they all looked up and saw Lilly and smiled with their sad faces to greet her. They had missed her they said, almost in unison. “Pour her a drink – get a double ready for everyone”, Max shouted. It seemed like they were prepared for this moment because in an instant she had a double of whiskey in her hand and they were all looking at her.

 

“To BERT!”, Max shouted.

 

“To BERT!”, they all shouted back.

 

And to the lips the drinks went, even Lilly’s. But the second the sweet fiery taste of whiskey hit her lips and her tongue started to tingle she knew it was wrong. The alcohol had killed him. The alcohol had consumed him. Doctors could not help him. His family could not help him. AA did not do shit! She could not even make a dent in it. Bert had started drinking at the age of 12 after being molested by a much older cousin. If Bert did not drink every day then Bert shook. And, if Bert had not been drinking that day he killed himself, he would not have killed himself. Lilly knew that with a fierce certainty that could not be undone.

 

She slammed the drink back down on the table. She looked around at all of the drunken man-children around her, red eyed from tears and booze, and she felt anger and pity. She reached out for Max’s arm, “I love you Max”. 

 

His eyes were big and swollen and it hurt her just to look at him. He looked confused and shocked by her behavior. “I love you too sis.” She knew she would not see him again; and she was certain that he had no idea that this was good-bye.

 

She left. She did not look back. Not in that moment or in any moment after that. She knew with a deep painful conviction that if she had not left Bert that he would not be dead. She felt that guilt. The guilt she knew would live inside of her forever. She had broken a vow and left before death parted them and that could not be undone. She had kept him alive and would have continued to do so. He would have lived. But what Lilly was not so sure about was if she would have lived. And, she promised herself, She Would Live. She would live the best life possible. She would live the life that only a sacrifice as large as the one she had made would be worthy of.