Chapter 10 "Two Lovers in an Ivory Field"

"Hey grandma," I sigh, leaning against her tombstone, set deep into the ground. The warm grass beneath me comforts me against the chill morning breeze. I lie back and spread my arms behind me, letting my fingers get coated in the grass's sprinkled dew. I speak to her and I wonder if she can really hear me, or if there really is nothing after all of this. "It's chaotic here, grams, it really is." A leaf scrapes across the grave from the wind and it scratches, making a noise. "What is that, grandma? Yeah, yeah I'm doing fine. Don't worry about me. Actually, it's really hard here. I'm in so much pain." I change positions and lie back against the tombstone. I look to my left and imagine her lying here with me. "I'm sorry I wasn't a very good grandson. Do you forgive me?" The wind blows gently, and I smile. I know it's her…somewhere. "Thanks, grandma. I would really love your help right now, you know? Things are confusing, and they're moving too fast, and I think I'm spiraling out of control again. Tell me…when you went…did it hurt, did you feel it?" I sit back up, inhaling the morning. "I ask because…I don't know. Maybe I'll be seeing you sooner than you think. I just wanted to know what death is like. Everyone wants to believe that it's better than this. They want to believe Paradise is out there. But then again how can they know? Life after death, if it exists, could be worse than this. Maybe that's why I'm still here, grandma. Maybe I'm scared. What do you think about all of this? Do you think I'm nuts? Do you think I'm some kind of coward? I think I'm all of those things. But even so, you don't have to worry, I'm able to take care of myself, one way or the other, and I'll take care of your cats." The wind blows again, dew lifting from the grass. "Yeah, I'll take care of Tori, too."

The walk back is long, but it's one very much needed. I take the back way to Cat's house, to avoid getting jumped or anything like that. I wonder if, no, I hope she'll have Robbie over there with her, if not, I at least hope her parents are back by now. As my body walks, my mind stays behind and ponders. I shouldn't have left Tori alone last night. I shouldn't have left her alone with her father. I was angry, and I wasn't thinking clearly. I hope she's okay, and I hope her plan works…she seemed pretty confidant last night, but then again, she also seemed pretty scared. Maybe it was me and my bad temper. Sometimes I wonder what she sees in me, because I can find one strong similarity between me and her father, our violent tempers. One would think she wants to get away from all of that. She runs from him and into my arms, from the left fist to the right. I would never forgive myself if I ever lost my temper on her, if I ever struck her, I'd surely see my grandma before it's time. It's easier to think than to act upon, but I need to understand she's trying, she's finally trying, and she's doing it as hard as she can. It makes me smile one minute, and forces me to wonder if I'm worth it the next. Everything depends on chance, something I lost belief in a long time ago. Somewhere along the line, I've forgotten that the world is a beautiful place.

Every rap on Cat's front door is like a tug at my heart. I don't know why, I just don't belong here right now. It's not where I need to be, it's not where I want to be either. I hear tiny, small pattering on the steps. My body moves before my mind follows once again. In my mind, I'm on the porch explaining to Cat why I can't be there right now, why I can't be there, or at Beck's, or Jade's, but my body is already running to Tori's, and I can picture Cat standing there seeing nothing, but knowing exactly who it was at her door. I can picture her walking back upstairs to greet Robbie in her room. I can see them blowing soap bubbles throughout her bright pink room. Ironically, I'm running faster than I was when Troy's mob of losers where after Beck and me. I was running for my life then, what am I running for now? And why there? I'm running to a house where a guy with a gun hates my whole existence, but my heart lies there, so I may die if I go and I'll surely die if I don't. My calves burn like hell and I'm losing air but I press on, garnering stamina from a great, wide unknown.

Her door's weaker than I thought it would be, or maybe I'm just close to breaking it down. By the end of my frantic knocking, my hand rests spread on the door. I close my wind-tired eyes and imagine her hand meeting mine on the other side, her eyes closed as mine are. The door opens to a wide-eyed Tori, they nearly pop out of her head when she sees me. I rush through the door and past her, searching for the man who I kill, or who kills me. I head to the kitchen for a knife as the three women shout and yell that he's not here. Despite that, I still search throughout the house, Tori trying to hold me back the whole time. She's yelling for me to get out, and it's hurting me to disregard her pleases and cries, but I have to do it. I have to look this man, this…this thing in the eye for the first time ever, and then plunge a knife deep into it. I once saw a movie that said, "War does terrible things to men," and I can only agree. When I find that the house really is empty, I turn around to Tori slapping me in the face an instance before her lips are locked to mine. With our lips crushed together, she's cursing me with what little breath she has left. She's saying what an idiot I am and how I could have been killed. Before she can say much else, I deepen the kiss. I wish I could drop my guard completely, because usually with her I can, but I'm behind enemy lines, and there are dug trenches everywhere. Trina and their mom are off in a corner as Tori mutters incoherent things to me, mostly about how I'm an idiot and such, and I think it's cute how she thinks her loose fists against my chest actually hurt. After her adorable rage, she rests in my arms as I hold her close.

I whisper into her ear, "Where's your father?"

She starts to say he's not her father, but she stops and says, "He's out renting a car that can get us away, far away from here, that's at least what he said. Our car's been having problems, so it won't get us anywhere."

I laugh and it blows her hair slightly. "I've got a bit of a temper problem."

"I've noticed."

"But don't ever think I'd take it out on you, okay? Don't ever think that."

"I wouldn't."

"I'm not your father." The more I say it, the more I hate him, the more I hate myself. I'm her father, I'm my father, I'm the complex of rage and confusion. I'm a belligerent drunk but I've never touched a drop of liquor. I look over to see Trina fixing her hair and make-up in a small mirror. "What is she doing?"

"She…does that," Tori chuckles, and then she's telling me I need to get out of here before someone gets hurt. I contemplate obeying, but then I finally notice the obvious suitcases and bags scattered around the living room. They're going to leave this house as if it never existed, and then probably burn it to the ground just because I've set foot in it. I can't leave…I won't. She's tugging at my arm again, begging me to leave. "Stick to the plan," She says, "Stick to the goddamn plan." Trina and Mrs. Vega pretend not to hear a word; I pray they don't speak "not a word" as well. She rushes upstairs, me close behind. We barge into her room and she turns around hastily to meet me. "Just stick to the plan, Andre. Freeway 73, alright? We have to drive by there. The speed limit's slow there, it'll be slow enough for me to open the door and jump out, and I'll meet you right by the sign. It literally says Freeway 73 on it."

"And then what?"

"And then anything," She smiles.

Kissing her is a beautiful thing. I always feel warm when I do. I feel like I belong, and I've never felt that way, not even in our little group of friends, not really. We kiss as if it's our last, as we always should do. It makes it tragic, mortal, knowing that our embrace will end. And as it always does, well, it does. I wish I could just hold her in silence, I wish we had the time.

Tori

I wish we had the time to hold each other in silence, but instead, I watch him slip out of the window just like last night, except for it's sunny today. It's a real sunny morning. I don't shut the window after he's gone, even though it's pretty chilly. In case he comes back, which he damn well shouldn't, he'll be welcome. I just hope he makes it there by four. I head downstairs to see Trina and Mom standing exactly where they were, as if it's a sin to move without permission or something weird like that. I cross the living room and engulf them into my arms. It's the tightest bear hug I think I've ever given, and I don't even know why I'm giving it. I just…love them…and I wish I could just apologize for all of the things they've been put through just because of me, and Rick's…Dad's complete hatred for me and my happiness. But I don't. I don't say a word. I sob audibly as I hug them. It's a Hallmark moment and I'm sure Trina will tease me for it later, but right now I can tease her too, because she's hugging me right back, just as tight and just as meaningful. Mom takes a little longer to respond, but her arms soon find their way around my waist, and she presses her face into my rib. She's trembling below me and I think she's crying, too. Our bags are packed, but our memories are left here. In fact, I think I remember Dad saying just that, "Toothbrushes, socks, no memories."

My room is freezing cold. I jump onto my bed and let the covers swallow me up. The radio my dad gave me when I was little plays, and I try to fall asleep and wait for four, the ride to a new life. There's a knock and I perk up, searching for Andre's warm eyes, instead I see another pair of eyes, my father's. He pretends to shiver and hold himself, smiling at me. After he takes in my blank expressive reply, he walks over to the window and shuts it, a last gust of cold wind entering the room.

"Can you turn the radio down, please?" He asks. The only cold part of him now has to be his shoulder, and he sighs. I don't know or care why he sighs, it won't warm him, and it won't make me talk. He walks over and does it himself, the soft crooning turning into a whisper and then nothing but an out of place click. "Tori…I love you. I think you've forgotten that over time. I think I've forgotten it, too."

I sit up in the bed and stare at him, letting him continue. "You're always going to be my princess. I've just…I've had problems, Tori, and you with boys just confuses me right now. You're still eight years old to me. Jesus, you're still a newborn to me, you know?"

"Especially black boys, right?"

"Would right now be a bad time to blame your grandpa for my way of thinking? I grew up…odd, if that's an appropriate enough word for you."

"You grew up a racist asshole."

"Okay…I grew up a racist asshole. But Tori, I'm trying. I really am, and I love you."

"You're trying? All this time being banned from school, I must have missed the memo saying that trying was being glued to a bottle like a priest is to a little goddamn altar boy."

He gives a dry chuckle to the comparison, and he wipes away something from his face. "You won't forgive me, will you?"

"I don't know, I can't think straight with all of the hits to my face."

He knows what I mean, and he looks at his hands like they're bloody. He sighs and pats his hands on his knees as he rises. He turns on my radio back to relatively where it was, and he walks out of the room without another word. He's probably heading to the bottle right now. He's going to be sauced and driving, how fun.

I open my eyes to loud noises downstairs. I run out of my room and into the bathroom. I balance myself on the bathtub and look out of the small, circular window. Dad's yelling at Trina and Mom as they load their bags into the trunk, and he has a bottle in his claws. I begin to run downstairs before he yells for me, too, and I'm standing at the front door with my bags in my hands before I can say, "Disaster." I nearly throw up at the smell of booze on him as he shouts into my face to get into the car. I ignore him and walk outside, where Mom runs over to help me with my stuff.

If this doesn't work, I hope Andre says goodbye to everyone for me, even Jade, who I think cares for me even though she'd burn in Hell before admitting to such a claim. The car ride is cold and silent, except for the faint sound of Trina's tears hitting the leather of the seats and the beer in Rick's glass splashing around. Some deep fear in me concludes that Andre won't be there at the sign, that he'll just let me go off to nowhere, a prisoner like I've always been. I look near the dash and see something that should've caught my eye earlier. It's a gun. In fact, it's a shotgun. I wouldn't be surprised if he was driving us out to nowhere to execute us all, but it's probably in case we run into any trouble…and trouble I've planned. The bend approaches, and I see the sign. I push Mom and Trina out of my mind now, I push everything out but the instinct to run and be happy. The car slows down and my grip on the door handle grows tighter. Dad never cared enough to lock the doors so that's a good thing for once. My hand trembles, and I just hope I'm precise enough. I look into the rearview mirror and I lock eyes with him inadvertently. And as if he knows, he starts to speed up the car a bit more, breaking the limit. I open the car door and tumble out, rolling on the rough ground. I hear him yell fiercely from the car ahead and he gets out. I stumble up and run into the high grass, pushing mounds of it out of my way so I can search for my lover, but I don't see him. "Andre?" I repeat over and over, but there's not answer. It gets harder to search through blurry, watery eyes. "Andre?" Oh God, oh God… "Andre?" And just as I'm to accept my fate, a hand grabs my wrist and I squeal, but it's Andre. Shots fire behind us, he's truly trying to kill us. "Go, go!" I shout, and we're holding hands, running for our life.

Andre

We run through the meadow, her hand intertwined with mine beside her. The fear on her face is ethereal, too haunting to be real. I've never really believed in angels before her, and I've never believed in demons before her father. I can honestly feel every little thing right now. I feel the burn of the sun, the brush of the pollen against my cheek, and the blood pumping through my veins. And it hurts. It hurts to be alive because that means I'm taking a risk. I'm in love and they're no edges to grab onto now that I've fallen too deep, but that doesn't bother me. Love is a never ending abyss filled with vines, and the farther you fall in, the darker it gets and you get tangled forever. I don't want to escape. I'll be happy in the dark, as long as Tori's there alongside me. Not behind me, not in front of me, but beside me. I was a lost soul until Tori found it, until she found me. I hear the blast of the gun going off, but I don't let it stop me, and I pray it doesn't hit us. I don't have any idea where we're going, and I don't think she has any idea either. We're just running, for our lives, for our love. Her father isn't going to stop, but neither are we. We'll run to the end of the earth and see who falls off first. She was the only light in a continually darkening abyss, and she still is. But I'm neither stupid nor blind. I could see that she was a cracked stone angel herself. Far from perfect is just right for me. We saved each other. We were meant for each other. Those words from my father, they could never apply to me and Tori. Ironically enough, I do believe in fate. In my eyes, Tori and I are destined. And I believe it more and more every step we take, every squeeze she gives my hand, and for every time she whispers…

"Run, run, run, run!"

The End

A/N-Well, we made it, didn't we? What a ride, no? I hope you all enjoyed this fic as much as I did, and I thank you all who took the time to read and review, alert, favorite, etc. Show's over, folks. I bow, and I bid you adieu.

-WOG