To Fear

Joe

It was coming up. We had it on authority that Dominic would be flying in on January twenty-eighth. And I was pretty sure that Cayden and I were going to strike only a day or so after that. If we waited, there was a chance that he would move before we got in and that would be unacceptable. We had to nab this guy.

I yawned and sat up, careful not to wake Cayden; she really had been sick yesterday, I could tell because she had slept through the night and didn't even stir when I moved. She'd insisted that she wasn't sick, but I suspected that it was exhaustion. Once you've been in a place for so long, you just get sick of it. I'd felt like that before, too, though I'd never actually thrown up from it.

I got out of bed and moved to go and take a shower. After that, I shaved and put on some clothes before I went into the kitchen to eat a bowl of cereal for breakfast. The next week or so would be pretty boring until we really got to work on catching Dominic.

"He rocks in the treetops all day long, hoppin' and a-boppin' and singin' his song. All the little birdies on Jaybird Street love to hear the robin goin' tweet tweet tweet; rockin' robin."

I smiled as Cayden came into the kitchen, still singing. She had taken a shower and her hair was still wet, beginning to curl. She wore one of my T-shirts and a pair of sweatpants, and her skin appeared lit from inside.

"Blow, rockin' robin cause we're really gonna rock tonight."

She got down a bowl and reached for the cereal. "Every little swallow, every chick-a-dee-"

I cut in. "Every little bird in the tall oak tree."

She smiled. "The wise old owl-"

"The big black crow-"

We sang together. "Flappin' their wings, sayin' go, bird, go, rockin' robin."

She finished pouring the milk into her cereal and came to join me at the table.

"You're in a good mood this morning," I noted.

She laughed. "I told you I wasn't sick. Being in bed all day yesterday gave me way too much energy today."

"Better safe than sorry," I told her.

She rolled her eyes as she swallowed a bite of her food. "If I had really been sick, then you would have it, too, as close as we are."

"We'll see."

"So, anything on the agenda for today?"

I shook my head. "Not really. Why, did you have something in mind?"

She shook her head. "I was just wondering. We probably need to clean a little bit more. There was some dust that I noticed yesterday."

I couldn't help but smile. "We better take care of that."

She narrowed her eyes. "Don't mock me."

"Yes, ma'am."

"So," she said. "After we clean, how about we watch a movie?"

"Sounds good." I replied. "Oh, would you be opposed to meeting my mother when we go back?"

She shook her head and gave me a smile. "I'd love to meet your mother."

"I have to warn you, though," I said. "I haven't seen her since they shipped me off to Blackthorne."

"Why'd they ship you off?" she asked.

I took a breath and began my story, remembering that she had lost someone she loved, too. She knew how it felt. "I had a brother; he always wanted to be just like me. He did everything I did and one night, I was sneaking out and he wanted to come to. But the people I was going with, they weren't exactly church people. So, I told him to go back inside, but he wouldn't. We tussled a bit and…" I choked on my breath and she reached across the table and touched my hand, concerned. "He fell," I finished. "Broke his neck."

She gasped. "Oh, Joe…"

I nodded slowly. "They shipped me off not too long after that. I can't blame them, either. It was my fault."

"You didn't want that to happen," she said firmly.

"No," I agreed. "I never wanted that to happen."

She moved to the other chair to rub my back.

I smiled at her and leaned in to kiss her forehead. "But, if it hadn't happened, I never would have met you."

She smiled and leaned in. Against my lips, she whispered, "Fate at its finest."

Cayden

I sang as I scrubbed the sink in the bathroom – a song that made me think of Joe's brother, whom I had never met. But the song also made me think of Jack.

"If I die young, bury me in satin; lay me down on a bed of roses. Sink me in the river, at dawn; send me away with the words of a love song."

I sometimes wished that I had gone to Jack's funeral. Students had tried to tell me about it, of course, but I had never listened. I didn't want to hear about how pretty the flowers were or how eloquent the preacher was. He was dead – the man I loved was dead – and that was all that I had needed to know. I hadn't cared how many people showed up or how the casket had been closed. I just didn't care. But sometimes, like now, I wished that I had.

"Lord, make me a rainbow, shine down on my mother. She'll know I'm safe with you when she stands under my colors, oh and, life ain't always what you think it oughta be, no; ain't even gray but she buries her baby. The sharp knife of a short life; I've had just enough time."

What did my mother think about my disappearance? Had she been upset? Had she even really spared a thought for me? She hadn't really been around the last couple of years that she had known me. We'd grown really far apart. And it was all my "dad's" fault. He tore our family apart.

"If I die young, bury me in satin; lay me down on a bed of roses. Sink me in the river, at dawn; send me away with the words of a love song."

A nice funeral to have, I decided. It would be really pretty. Something about floating away into the next life…

"The sharp knife of a short life, well, I've had just enough time…"

Sharp knife… The song was creepy, in a beautiful sort of way.

"And I'll be wearing white when I come into your Kingdom I'm as green as the ring on my little cold finer. I've never known the lovin' of a man, but it sure felt nice when he was holding my hand. There's a boy here in town, says he'll love me forever. Who would have thought forever would be severed by the sharp knife of a short life? Well, I've had just enough time…"

The song was really pretty. The woman who had recorded it had a voice kind of like mine, unusual and unique. And the meaning of the song was deep, as I thought every time that I heard it and now, as I sang it. Enough time… Had Jack really had enough time? Had Joe's brother? Who was to say?

"So put on your best, boys, and I'll wear my pearls. What I never did is done."

I began to rinse the rag out, letting the water run over my hands. As it did, I felt a little tickle in my stomach and I was afraid that I was going to throw up again, but thankfully, I didn't. I just hadn't eaten enough at breakfast because I'd been scared of throwing up again. I moved to the bathtub and pulled the curtain back as I continued to sing the song.

"A penny for my thoughts, oh no, I'll sell 'em for a dollar. They're worth so much more after I'm a goner and maybe then you'll hear the words I've been singin'. Funny when you're dead how people start listening."

How true that was. After someone died, everyone seemed to wonder if the person knew that they loved them. Or if that person had something that they had needed to tell them. People always wished to talk to the dead, sometimes only to know what it was like to die. I, personally, had no interest in the thoughts of the dead. I just had to trust that Jack knew that I loved him. Surely, he did; because I definitely knew that he loved me.

"If I die young, bury me in satin; lay me down on a bed of roses. Sink me in the river, at dawn; send me away with the words of a love song."

If only his funeral could have been something like that. He'd always loved poetry, and it would have seemed very poetic to him. He definitely would have approved. I finished cleaning the bathtub and moved to wash the rag out again.

"The ballad of a dove…"

It didn't really seem fair that Jack had been taken from me. He'd been young, too, and he was the only person that I'd had that had loved me for me. Of course, if he hadn't died, I wouldn't have met Joe. Once, I'd heard the phrase "some things fall apart so that better things can fall together". I guess that rang true.

"Go with peace and love…"

I hoped that Jack had. And Joe's brother, too.

"Gather up your tears; keep 'em in your pocket. Save 'em for a time when you're really gonna need 'em, oh."

I sighed and moved out of the bathroom.

"The sharp knife of a short life. Well I've had just enough time…"

But did they? Did anyone ever really have enough time? And why was I questioning death all of a sudden? It was simply a fact of life.

My stomach twisted into knots as I thought about Jack and even Joe's brother. Why did they have to be taken?

"So put on your best, boys, and I'll wear my pearls…"

Joe stepped into the room. "Hey, I finished dusting everything upstairs and I-" He cut off. "Sorry, were you singing?"

And then I felt the tear trail down my face, a whisper against my skin.

He grew concerned and stepped closer. "Are you crying?"

"It's stupid," I whispered as I stepped away. "I'm sorry."

He stepped closer and cupped my face in his hands. "What's wrong?"

"I was just singing," I whispered. "If I Die Young."

He nodded in understanding. "Are you okay?"

"Are you?" I whispered back.

He leaned into me, our bodies fitting together like puzzle pieces that had waited far too long to be fit together. Those last two pieces that made everything come together perfectly. "I am when I'm with you," he whispered.

I pulled him into me for a kiss, and it grew and grew, like a fire inside of us was raging out of control. Whispers, caresses, kisses…they all blended together to form something so beautiful that it completely consumed my mind.

Afterwards, we just laid there in the silence until I finally whispered, "Joe?"

He continued to draw geometric patterns on my arm. "Yeah?"

"If I die-" I began.

He cut me off. "Don't say that."

"I don't want it to happen, either," I told him. "But if it does, I want you to move on and be happy."

He kissed my hair. "I'm not sure that's possible."

"It's hard," I admitted. "But promise you'll at least try?"

He sighed. "Fine. I'll at least try."

I smiled and tilted my head up to kiss him. "Thank you."

"I love you," he replied.

"I love you, too."