Ch 5: Useless and disappointing

Woody stared up at the tree that his Annie girl fell to her death from. It was unruly and tall, majestic and wild at the same time. A nagging thought cursed his stomach and gnawed at his thoughts. Had she fallen or did she kill herself? It was difficult with Annie's condition, her sickness. One minute she was fine but the next she would be off on a rampage, her anger often got the best of her. Louis Carver had questioned him, then Grace to see if she had any suicidal thoughts, he had said no, which wasn't exactly a lie, she had never voiced a wish to die. Although he did remember once, when they were young, she had asked him what he thought it would be like to die. It had been a rough night and he had come to school the next morning with a livid bruise on his face.

"Woody Hoyt look at that bruise." She had said with a firm shake of her head. He had always thought her wise beyond her years, even at eleven he could sense the beauty and intelligence that seemed to well up inside of her at the most opportune moments.

"Its nothing." He said obstinately, shaking her hand off his shoulder.

"That Daddy of yours is mean as a snake."

"Leave it alone Annie… there's nothing you can do."

She clucked her tongue and looked at him a little deeper. "Have you ever wondered what it would be like to die?" he looked at her like she had two heads. She smiled reassuringly and leaned onto his shoulder. "I mean if it's scary, if people really see a light… that kind of thing."

He sighed, giving in to her fairly odd question. "Peaceful, I guess." She seemed satisfied with that explanation, or at least she had then. Looking back now he saw the grief that entered her eyes, he hated to admit it but he saw the longing in her eyes.

He wished the trouble would go away, all of it, since the night before when he sat in his bathroom, listening to the sound of water rushing from the faucets and the squeaking of the sharpie as he wrote those lucid words over and over, he hadn't been able to find himself, he felt restless and weak.

For a moment he imagined Annie, falling from the tree, her shirt lifted slightly by the wind bellowing around her. Her arms outstretched, falling toward the ground at an alarming speed. How did she feel? Did she feel like the world was crumbling around her? Did she feel free? Peaceful? Was she scared? Did she scream? Did she make any noise at all? He wanted to think a little less of the pain he felt swallowing him. All the regrets that seemed useless and disappointing like his life.

Before he knew it he was driving….

He needed her, he needed her to hold him a little tighter, and he needed her to tell him it wasn't his fault that she had fallen from that tree, that him leaving didn't give her the incentive to plunge to her death. He needed her to tell him it would all be okay.

But now he couldn't tell her, he couldn't tell her that he loved her more than words could ever express. He couldn't tell her he understood her better than she did sometimes.

It was too late now, she was gone, her apartment was dark, the Pouge was locked, and the morgue was empty. So he did the only thing he could, he sat down, on the steps leading to her big read door, content to sit on the steps of her home rather than be with out her. Rain began to fall in sheets, damping the earth. He felt something release in him with the rain that came, something in him fell away, like a piece of his heart caved in.

She came up the steps, her boots clicking in time with her movement. She stopped short when she saw him sitting in the rain. The key to her house in one hand and a file was in the other. "Woody." She said in surprise. "What the hell are you doing here?"

He swallowed hard, giving himself time to think. He answered honestly, or as honestly as he could. "I had to see you." He watched as her shoulders slumped in defeat, looking at him in his drenched work suit, his hair plastered to his head.

"Well then you had better get inside, before you catch your death out here." She said with a sigh, the resignation clear in her voice. He stood silently and followed her inside.

"So get it over with." She muttered, handing him a towel and a beer.

"What?" he whispered innocently, his baby blue eyes, clear as the ocean, widened a little bit.

"You came to talk, so get over with it, what is it?" he fell into the nearest chair, resting his head in his hands.

"My mom used to tell me stories, she was from New York, so she was a big city girl and I loved to hear about buildings with a hundred stories… I loved how exciting it sounded… and when she died I felt like it could never happen; I would never belong there, in those hundred story buildings… My dad sure didn't tell me any different… but Annie, she was different, she told me that I could be different, I wasn't just the fat kid from Kewaunee that would work in the factory or grow up to do what his dad did before him.

"And now that she's gone… I feel like I abandoned her, you know, like I left her for that bigger life that she told me I was destined for… She was sick, Jordan, like your mom, got angry easy, she wanted to disappear…she wanted to disappear… just disappear." His voice trailed off as he looked up at her, stunned at his confession to her.

She was equally stunned, staring flatly at him, her lips parted slightly, her hands had fallen down to her sides, her eyes looked at him with soft understanding.

She wanted to tell him so much, her mistrust was on a whole different level, how she had misjudged him completely and she only wanted to hold him near her and tell him he did belong. "Woody." Was all she got out.

He could feel the space between them, hallow and unyielding. He stood, feeling heady and lonely. "I'm sorry Jordan." He apologized softly. "I know this is a lot to take on… I don't want to burden you with anything I just wanted to tell you that I do understand and I want to be here for you… I am here, just… just… talk to me please… please talk to me."

His pleading broke her heart, the crack in his voice, like he was at the gates of heaven begging for redemption. She sighed, "What do you want me to say." Her voice was soft and indulgent.

"just that you understand." Before he could add anything she was near him, holding him tight, as if he would vanish. He seemed so vulnerable, she couldn't stand to look at him, she just let him lean against her.

"I understand." She whispered