Never Meant to Be (4 page)

He knows me, he knows me so well that he knows that I'm nervous. But I also know him, and know that he's just pretending to be tough and hide himself behind all those scars.

“What do you mean?”

“Using your power to take down the homeless guys. Do you know how corrupted these policemen are and how big of assholes they are? Do you know how they treat the
scum
like us? They don’t even consider us human.”

“So that's why you entice them, is it?”

“You don’t know. You have no idea what the hell goes on here. You have no idea, and you just sit there and make a judgment. You judge people like us because it's the only thing you know.” His voice began to rise.

“Excuse me, but you're here because you did wrong. It’s not because of me. You're responsible for your own stupid actions, alright? Don’t blame me!” I nearly shouted at him as emotion started to well up inside of me.

The room went silent.

“So why are you here, then? Just tell them the truth, and let them do whatever they want with me.”

“I wasn't going to come and see you here, but...well...I just want to know
why
? What happened that changed you so much? What happened to that kid who was so eager to go beyond the horizon? What happened to that child?”

I waited for Johnny to answer, but he just turned his head and stared at the wall. I waited some more. I may have waited seconds, or minutes, but it didn't take long for me to realize that Johnny was done talking. My heart sunk. I stood up and reached for the door.              

Just as I was about to turn the handle, he spoke. 

“I shouldn’t have killed that dove, right?” He looked at me through his swollen, bruised face.               I froze.

“Are you done, miss?” The inspector's voice came from the other side of the door. I took one last look at Johnny, and then stepped outside, shutting the door quietly behind me.

“So, he's the one, right?”

I paused for a second before answering.

“Yes, he is. Do whatever you need to do, inspector.”

And I started to walk away. I started to walk faster and faster, and by the time I reached my car, I was nearly sprinting. I could hear Mr. Brad breathing heavily behind me.

The car parted through traffic and I leaned my head against the window.

“Shit. I shouldn’t have done that, right?”

“It’s okay, ma’am. You've done the right thing. He deserves it.” I could see Mr. Brad looking at me in the rearview mirror, concerned. I sighed.

“Maybe, or maybe not.”
But the dove
?

I tried to scan my memory...

“I learnt a new trick! Would you like to see?” Johnny could barely contain his excitement. It seemed as though he had been waiting all day for me to get out of school to show me.

“What? What is it?”

“First, find me a rubber band or a piece of elastic,” he said, and started to walk around, scanning the ground.  He motioned for me to come over and help him filter through a pile of garbage. I had never thought the city was a dirty place until that day, when we dug through that garbage pile.

“I got it!” I raised my hand in the air as if I had solved a complicated math problem. But the response I got from Johnny was a little different than what I was used to from my teachers.

“Just bring it, then.”

I gave him the elastic band and he started to twist it in his hands.

“Are you making a slingshot?” I asked him as I watched him struggle. Finally, seemed satisfied with his creation and he smiled at me as if he had finished something great.

“I saw someone doing cool things with it.” He stretches out the elastic to test its strength, and then he brought out a pebble from his pocket.  He loaded the slingshot, scanned the alley nearby, and  found his target. He aimed the slingshot carefully at a stray dog, and then let loose. The dog let out a squeal and ran away.

“I have the power now!” Johnny raised his hand towards the sky, clutching the slingshot.

“Let me see it.”

He handed over his creation and it was unlike any toy I had ever touched before. “Let’s scare off those pigeons sitting on the roof!”

He snatched the slingshot back from me and aimed at a group of pigeons sitting on the roof cooing gently. He took a deep breath, slowly took aim, and shot. The pigeons flew away.

“Bingo!” He said, and we giggled, but then we looked down and noticed a pigeon lying in the road, gasping for breath.

“Oh no, oh no...” Johnny ran towards it. Before he could take it up in his hands, the pigeon's chest rose and fell quickly, and then went still. The bird lay there like a stone.

“Did I kill him?” Fear took over Johnny's voice as he gazed upon the dead bird.

“Now they won't take me with them....Now they'll never take me with them...” He murmured to himself, distressed.

“What are you talking about, Johnny? Who won't take you with them?”

“The birds, Esther! Now I won’t be able to fly away with them." He looked at me, eyes wide with fear. "I was supposed to grow wings on my thirteen birthday and fly west with the birds. Now they won't take me, I know it. Now I won’t be able to fly.”

Johnny cupped the pigeon in his small hands and held it up to his ear, trying to listen for a heartbeat. There were no outer wounds or scars, just a few feathers lying around.

“Oh no... It really is dead! Now I'm going to rot in this place forever. Now I can’t  fly... I can’t  fly...” I saw tears starting to fall down his cheek, desperate, helpless tears.

“Johnny, what are you talking about? How can we fly? We're..."

I saw his tears fall and splatter on the street. I looked from the bird and back at him, and saw that he was starting to sob. It was so real for him, for that child.  I started to think about the world around me and everything I had already learned about it.

Could we really fly?

***

Esther’s diary

A few days had passed since I confronted Johnny, and somehow, I couldn't get him out of my mind. I couldn't forget him. A heavy fog pushed against my window, and I traced circles in it. I had always wanted to become an artist, and something about that car window that day spoke to me.

“This city has changed a lot.” I commented, looking out the window and through the fog.

“Yes, ma’am, it has.”

I paused for a second. “So, did you get him out?”

“Yes, ma’am, I did.”

“I just hope he's okay...”

I turned back to the window, and my stomach flipped. It was him.

I don’t know if he was deliberately lying there on the side of that road at that time, or if it was fate that we confronted each other once again. My car was stuck in traffic, and he wasn't moving. A skinny dog came up next to him and started licking his hand.

Should I call out to him? I can’t, no...I shouldn't...

It had started raining heavily again, and I knew the sewer system was good in that part of the city.

What if the rain gets heavier and he gets washed away? What if he gets hurt? But he tried to rape you...No, he didn’t. As soon as he knew it was me, he protected me...

The car slowly started moving forward with the traffic.
But what about you?

That's it. Are you going to just leave him and  judge him like everyone else, or you will help him?
I couldn't take my eyes off of him. The car picked up speed and travelled a few yards before I could intervene.

“Stop! Stop the car!” I nearly shouted.

Mr. Brad looked back at me “What happened? Ma’am, are you okay?”

“I need your help.”

I opened the door and stepped out of the car. The street was filled with water and floating debris, and I could see the nearby sewer had overflowed. Mr. Brad hurried around the car and opened an umbrella over me as I walked towards Johnny.

“Ma’am you should stay away from him.” Mr. Brad shouted over the pounding of the rain as soon as he saw Johnny.

“Relax. I know him.”

For a moment, Mr. Brad let the umbrella down and stared at me with disbelief.

Johnny was unconscious with bruises scattered over his face.

“Oh God! You said they didn’t hurt him, and now look! How could they do this to him?” The rain seemed to scream violently with me.

I stared at him, realizing that this was last thing I wanted for him. I felt terrible. I wanted him to become a good man, a successful man. I wanted him fulfill his dreams and to be able to go beyond that horizon. But eleven years after I met him, there he was, lying on the side of the road, dirty and wet. He had a reason to be angry at the world. But he was still a criminal. Or was he? “What are you going to do, ma’am?” Mr. Brad's voice interrupted my thoughts.

“I'm going to take him with me to my uncle's house.”

“Are you sure, ma’am?”

“Yes, I'm sure.”

“I will tell your bodyguard to remain outside of your room at all times.”

I couldn't blame him for his concern, especially considering his first meeting with Johnny. But I knew that Johnny wasn't not like that...or did I?

***

The rain pounded against the window of the bedroom where Johnny lay.
I shouldn’t have brought him here. I really shouldn't have.
But I knew I couldn't have left him there.

Still struggling with my thoughts, I turned my attention to the man lying on the bed. He was unorthodoxly handsome, or at least that’s what came to my mind as I examined his face. It was filled with the scars and wounds of a rough life.  Eleven years had had left their mark on Johnny, and yet I couldn't help but feel even more attracted to him. I took his hand. It had the same roughness that tickled my hand. I looked at his fingers. There didn't seem to be any place without scars. As I was about to lay his hand back on the bed, some dark marks on it caught my attention. My heart skipped a beat. 

Is that my name?

I lifted his arm up carefully to check. And there it was: a tattoo made up of six simple letters. ESTHER.

Why would he tattoo my name on his arm? Am I that important to him?
My heart started pounding.
Is he... is he stalking me? No, probably not. But he could...he is, after all, a criminal.

I looked at his face. With his eyes closed, he looked much younger, and I could still see traces of the little boy I first met.
A criminal? Don’t be cynical about him.
But why was my name tattooed on his arm? My heart fluttered again.
Did he miss me?

Oh my God...he missed me. He missed me like I had missed him.
I gently rested his hand on the bed and my hand trembled slightly. I couldn't jump to any conclusions. The piece for that puzzle was lying unconscious, adding even more to the mystery. But there were other things that caught my attention, as well... like the gun popping out of his jacket pocket. With my trembling hand, I carefully slid it out. It was heavy. I think it was loaded. 

My heart wanted to believe his innocence, but he wasn't make things easy.

I searched his jacket and found a bundle of small journals no bigger than my palm. I was expecting something a little more dangerous, but when I opened it, I found an old, withered photograph of us. We both smiled at the camera--it must have been taken on the camera my parents had given me for my birthday. A wave of warmth rushed over me at the memory.

I put the picture aside, and opened up the first journal. For the third time that day, my heart skipped a beat.

The pages were filled with messy scribbles, but not about life on the streets. The pages were filled with scattered lines from love poems:

I Fear Love

A thousand breathes I take

A thousand dreams I see

No other feeling makes me shiver

Like love does to me

Love like a razor

A skilled killer

No exact place

No exact shape I don’t know what love is

What is this?

A thousand breathes I take

A thousand dreams I see

No other feeling makes me shiver

Like love does to me.

I paged through his journal for hours, rediscovering the child I had once known, the child I thought had died. I read and read until I fell asleep.

***

My uncle didn’t like guests in his house, and even less so in my room. Sometimes, he treated me like I was still in high school and bringing my boyfriend home for the first time. Ever since my parents had died, he had insisted that I live with him. Even though I was an adult and now CEO of their company, my uncle still cared for me as if I were a teenager. He didn't think it was good for me to be alone, and maybe he was right.