Chapter 25

December 1929

It was winter by time we reached California. With no money and no means of support we didn't get far right away. By the time we made it back to Santa Monica I was sure Nathan was going to pass away in my arms... His face was so white and translucent the veins around his temples and his eyes were clearly visible. He barely opened his eyes anymore.

One thing I learned from all this. It's hard to move forward when you've got something pulling you back. But it's even harder to go back the way you came when you've gone so far you've lost your way. The only thing that matters now is that I'm here and with my heart still beating in my chest I am determined to make things right before its too late.

As I approached the front steps to my former home I was never more aware of how alive I was. My heart thudded against my rib cage and my limbs were shaky with adrenaline. My chest wheezed ever more rapidly as I knocked on the front door that night with Nathan's limp body propped against my shoulder.

But to my surprise it was not my father or mother who answered the door. It was Jack, yawning and rubbing his eyes. He had grown. He was no longer perpetually small but fairly tall and thin. His hair had grown slightly darker and was matted around his tanned face in his nighttime sweat.

"What the hell are you doing here?" He asked icily. He was not as happy to see me as I had thought.

"Keeping my promise." I replied with a kind smile. "Can we come in.?" Jack's eyes fell to Nathan. He stared at him for awhile, at his cold chapped lips and bluish grey pallor. He opened the door wider to let us through and even caught Nathan's other arm to help him through the threshold and into the sofa in the parlor.

"What's wrong with him?" He asked uneasily as he set Nathan's body down carefully on the cushions.

"There was an accident back in New York. A car hit his head on. Most of his bones have healed by now...but he has a collapsed lung so he can barely breathe plus the concussion injured his head permanently. He hardly ever opens his eyes." I told him as I stoked Nathan's hair.

"And what's wrong with you?" He asked with faint concern that reminded me sorely of how my father used to talk with me when pain, emotional or physical, was severely evident.

"Nothing." I said brightly, propping Nathan's head up on a pillow. "Why would you ask that?"

"You look different. And I don't mean older although you do look older. But you look sick. Your eyes are all glassy and red. How does a car accident do that?"

"You'd be surprised." I told him.

"Well they won't be happy to see you." He snapped, demeanor turning cold. "You don't know what it's been like. Mom and Dad aren't the same anymore. They don't laugh like they used to and they hardly ever leave this house anymore. And it's all because you left!"

"You think it's been easy for me? I've been through hell these last few years. I almost lost myself. You're lucky I did come back."

"Yeah, well you should have stayed in hell then. You're dead to us! Just go back where you came from!" He stormed and started to walk away.

"Wait, Jack! What are you saying?"

"They buried you okay. None of us wanted to believe you were gone, okay, but we didn't know what else to do! People kept asking us if we were gone a hold a memorial for you so eventually Momma caved and held this sort of service. There's a plaque with your name on it in the park."

"Oh, well then I guess they'll be glad to see me." I said, trying to sound cheery.

"Just go home. You've been replaced. Mom had a new baby two years ago. A girl. Things have been better ever since then. We don't need you anymore." Jack said, angrily.

"First of all, this is my home. And no matter what you say you're my little brother. You'll always need me just as I'll always need you." I said with harsh tears. "Now. Can I see her?"

"Who?" He asked

"My little sister."

"Follow me." He answered calmly. I followed him up the stairs and into Thomas's old bedroom.

The room was draped in shadows but could make out a small bed in the corner and the small shape of five year old Thomas huddled under the sheets, only his mop of auburn hair visible.

And in the far corner of the room near the room stood the little crib that once held my dolls a long time ago and after that the infant forms of my little brothers.

Sleeping there now was my little sister, Maggie Rose. I peered over the wooden bars and laid a hand on her milky soft cheek. Her hair was a fine light blonde that curled at the ends just as mine had. Her feathery dark eyebrows dusted her cheeks and I couldn't help but wonder if beneath them were eyes the same shade as mine.

"She's precious, Jack." I breathed, stroking the back of her head.

"Yeah, she's good baby. Better than Thomas was at that age. Dad can't get enough of her. He calls her his princess." He grinned, but upon hearing me cough and sigh his tone changed. "Dad says she reminds him a lot of you. Just in the smile and eyes. I reckon that's why he's taken to her so much." He said quickly.

"Yes. Or maybe he dotes on her because she's his daughter and he's supposed to adore her." I said with a laugh. "Oh, Jack. I'm going to feel bad no matter what. I deserve it. I've done a lot of terrible things. But I'm ready to make up for them. So don't try and lessen the blow, it'll be worse in the long run."

"Okay, I guess." He said. "Listen, in case you haven't noticed tomorrow is kind of Christmas so I better get back to bed. I won't kick you out. Your room's still there if you need some rest. Or you can just sit with Nathan. It doesn't matter."

"Okay. Thanks." Jack had changed. He wasn't that sweet, rational little boy anymore. His innocent view had disappeared with his freckles. He could no longer stay ignorant of what had gone on in my past. He probably knew things I wish he didn't but that made him all the more easily to talk to.

"'Night." He said with a yawn.

"Goodnight, Jack." I thought of saying I love you. But that would just make it even more awkward. "Um, Merry Christmas."

When I got down stairs Nathan's eyes were open. A rarity. A Christmas miracle if there ever was one.

I sat down beside him on the sofa. His sky blue eyes reflected the flames of the hearth fire he was gazing into with a vague dreamlike trance.

I run my fingers through his thick black hair and kiss his pale forehead. Just being hear with him, placing my head on his shoulder and listening to the firewood crackling makes me feel like everything is okay. That death and fighting do not exist. That I had never left.

Nathan's fingers twitch slightly and his arm slides around to hug my shoulders. There is a flicker of a smile in his still face.

Suddenly I am overcome with happiness. A happiness that makes my head ache and pulse. It sears my skull and makes me go dizzy but I don't mind at all.

"Are you okay?" His voice is cracked and raspy. I haven't heard his voice in so long.

"Yes, I'm fine." I say, caressing his face. "Don't worry about me. How are you feeling?"

"About the same." He answers softly. "Eliza. Something tells me this is the end."

"The end of what?" I ask passively, propping him upright on the pillow until it hits me. "No, you don't mean...?" He nods.

"I've been holding on for so long. I'm so weak. I can barely move. I'm not getting any better and this is no way to live. Maybe it's time to let go." His voice fades into the air.

"No. No. We come so far, No! Just-just keep fighting, please. Keep fighting for me!" I said in soft sobs. "I need you, Nathan. I need you forever and always. I-I never thought I'd love anyone so much! Please!" I plead, burying my face in his shirt and crying harder. His hand trembles as he pats down my hair.

"Don't worry. I won't give up until you do." He said. I feel his body wince in pain.

He is in so much pain. Somewhere I know that death is the only way to end this pain. I'm making him suffer when I didn't have to. He said that he wouldn't stop fighting until I did and I would never quit, But maybe. Somehow, eventually I could?

"Rest." I say. "And don't worry about me. We'll find a way to stay together. We belong together. You said so yourself." A smile spreads across his face as his eyes close.

Can you exchange one life for another? Why not? A caterpillar turns into a butterfly. If a mindless insect can do it why can't I?

With that I grab a pen and a piece of paper from the table and start to write