Rachel's Folly (9 page)

“Drink today, and drown all sorrow,
You shall perhaps not do it tomorrow;
Best, while you have it, use your breath;
There is no drinking after death.”

– Ben Jonson

IT WAS
JUST PAST TEN
in the morning when Ben emerged from his cabin, parched and hung over. He was on a Caribbean cruise ship docked off the shore of Aruba, still in the same coral colored t-shirt and khaki Bermuda shorts from the night before. His bloodshot eyes hid behind dark ray ban aviators, his hair a disheveled mess. He had a horrible headache. Each step he took reverberated in his ears.

Walking through the ship, he noticed a woman in lime green and white sundress and wide-brim straw hat attempting to get a signal on her cell phone by holding it above her head. His cell had died two days earlier. In his rush to get to the airport, he had forgotten to pack the charger. He had planned on buying a new one while on vacation, but the disconnection was a foreign peace just as enchanting as the Aruba shoreline. There was no need for the constant buzz in his pocket to disturb him with reminders of home.

He had spent the previous day snorkeling, sightseeing and shopping for Dutch-made porcelain and imported chocolates, followed by drinking and dancing in downtown Oranjestad. He and two of his friends staggered back to the ship sometime after two in the morning, tired, sun burnt and drunk. He was now making his way to one of the ship’s many gift shops to buy some aspirin and a large cup of coffee.

When he returned to his room twenty minutes later, he noticed the blinking red light on the cabin phone by his bed.

Homer
. He immediately panicked. Homer was back in Maine, with his assistant, Janelle.
Did something happen?
He picked up the phone to listen.

It was Edward.

Ben, it’s Ed. Please call me as soon as you can. It’s important.
His voice was low and serious, urgent.

This can’t be good
, Ben thought. He sat down on the bed, took a deep breath and dialed Edward’s phone number. Waiting for the line to connect, he glanced at the daily newsletter on his nightstand. He was supposed to meet one of his friends for a morning spin class. He scoffed at the thought, knowing his day would be better spent by the pool, nursing his hangover until he could stomach, yet again, another dose of the island’s famous rum punch.

“Hey, brother, what’s going on?” Ben asked as soon as Edward answered the line.

“Hey.” Edward sounded somber. “I’m sorry, man,” he continued, stopping for a moment to clear his throat. “I don’t know how else to say this. Rachel’s….” He hesitated. There was a long, pregnant pause. “Rachel’s gone, Ben. She took her life yesterday.”

Ben narrowed his eyes and gripped the receiver, trying to piece together Edward’s words echoing in his head. “That’s not funny,” Ben replied flatly.

“I don’t know what happened. Everything seemed…. fine. She was distant these past few months, but I didn’t realize she was in trouble.” Edward’s voice cracked. “She didn’t let on.”

Ben fell silent as the reality of what Edward was saying began to sink in. His stomach dropped.
No,
he thought. He tried to recall the last time he had spoken with Rachel.
It was just a few weeks ago, wasn’t it? When Rachel wanted to confess.
Had she been depressed then?

“She—” Edward sniffled. “She jumped off Elena’s balcony.”

Ben was stunned. The room lost color. The air in the cabin turned stale; he thought he might vomit. Edward was crying softly over the phone. “You okay?” Ben finally asked.

“Ah, fuck.” Edward exhaled loudly. “I just need to pull myself together.” There was a long pause. “She’s gone….” His voice trailed off.

Ben closed his eyes and lowered his head. His voice dropped an octave. “I’m in Aruba. Let me see how I can get out of here. There’s bound to be an airport. Does Jacob know?”

“No. He thinks she’s on a trip.”

“Does my mother know?”

“Not yet. I’ve been trying to get the nerve up all morning. I’m going to call her as soon as I get off the phone with you.”

After another pause Ben asked, “Do you want me to do it?”

“No, it’s better me than you,” Edward said quietly.

Ben knew he was probably right. “Alright, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

Ben cut the connection and stared at the receiver in his hand for a full minute before hanging up the phone. “Oh my God,” he said out loud to the empty room. The image of Rachel holding Jacob in her arms at the airport right before he left Austin appeared in his mind. Confused, in a daze, he sat there in silence on the small bed with the unopened bottle of aspirin still in one hand, asking himself what the hell had just happened.

* * *

Ben was able to catch a flight to Atlanta that evening, but he had to spend the night at a hotel adjacent to the airport once he got there. The next morning the security lines were longer than usual and slow going, packed with passengers traveling for Thanksgiving.

Ben traveled frequently for work and for pleasure. He was naturally a social person and usually enjoyed his time at airports and on planes. He had met many interesting people over the years and even made a couple of friends along the way. But today, he felt like he was walking through a bubble. He was numb and completely disconnected amidst the excited crowds of people venturing home to be with their families for the holiday. Edward’s words haunted his thoughts.
Rachel’s gone, Ben
. But how? Why? Ben had always felt like he and Rachel were part of the same whole, as if they were bookends on a shelf, each holding up their own versions of the same story. Now she was gone and he felt incomplete. He tried in vain to recall the last time he told her he loved her. He remembered when, as a teenager, he had come out to Rachel.

“Oh, Ben,” she had said with a warm smile. “I’ve known you were gay probably even before you realized it. I don’t care about that. You’re still my brother.”

He couldn’t help but grab her and give her a big hug. He had told her then how much he loved her. He remembered walking her down the aisle to marry Edward. She looked so incredibly beautiful. He thought he had winked at her and mouthed the words, “I love you,” right before she took Edward’s arm, but he wasn’t sure. He might have only thought it. Was that the last time? He couldn’t remember.

He knew he should call his mother, but she was the last person he wanted to talk to. He stood on standby for more than three hours and managed to get on a plane to Austin before noon. He should have been grateful he was able to get any flight at this time of year and on such short notice, but under the circumstances, he just felt a mixture of anger, sadness and confusion.

He searched for his seat, then struggled to squeeze his hefty body by his fellow passengers and over to the window. Sitting down, his knees nearly touched the seat in front of him. He felt claustrophobic, physically and emotionally. He needed a drink. Badly.

Once the plane was in the air, he asked the steward for a rum and Coke. Ignoring the disturbed look of the woman sitting next to him, he stared out the small airplane window. His thoughts stuck on the last time he saw his sister. He simply couldn’t believe she had been so depressed that she’d taken her life. He had been through his own bouts with depression a few times as an adult and knew all too well how debilitating it could be. But as hard as it was, and though he had also occasionally contemplated suicide, he knew he could never actually go through with it. As dark as those days were for him, he had trudged through each one with the belief that it
had
to get better. He knew Rachel had been distraught over Jack, but he never dreamed she was so far gone to jump off a balcony. She wouldn’t do that—give up everything. Especially not Jacob.

When the steward returned with his drink, he looked intently at the tiny bottle of Bacardi. It made him think of his father. Ben remembered when he and Rachel came home from school on that hot summer day. Their father had hanged himself with a cable in his apartment, their mother said. Ben could still see her sitting on the brown-and-tan striped sofa, holding her Bible in one hand, fanning herself with a
TV Digest
with the other.
Your father wasn’t strong enough to stop his wicked ways,
she’d said.
The devil tempts and if you are weak, if you do not stand with the Lord, he will trick you and take your life. Now your father will pay for his sins, for eternity. Let this be a lesson to you both.

Ben missed his father every day. Now Rachel was gone, too. He turned his attention back to the window and tried to hide his face as the tears streamed down.

When he landed in Austin, he used a phone at the customer service desk to check in on Homer. He told Janelle what had happened and asked her to overnight his dark suit, tie, shoes and cell phone charger to Edward’s house. Then he flagged a cab. En route, he remembered the last time he had taken a taxi to Rachel’s house: it was the morning after they had gone dancing, the morning he mischievously snuck into her house and scared her when she was making coffee. He sat up and arched his back peering out the car window, towards the ever changing city skyline as they drove along Highway 290. He tried to see if he could spot the building Elena lived in, but it was too far off.

After he paid the cab fare, Ben held his suitcase and stood motionless in the driveway, staring blankly at the house. It looked so ominous to him now. It was Rachel’s house, but Rachel would not be in it. He took a deep breath, climbed the front steps, and rang the doorbell. He heard footsteps coming from inside. Edward’s mother, Agnes, opened the door and immediately stretched out her arms to embrace him. Ben held on tight and tried to hold back his tears. She didn’t say anything; she just held him tightly for a few moments and then released him. He grabbed his things and went inside. The house was dim. Most of the blinds were closed. There was a lamp on in the living room. It looked like Agnes had been knitting on the couch.

She was a stylish woman, wearing red-rimmed glasses and a very short, shiny, straight, silver bob. The house smelled of pot roast and homemade bread.

“Are you hungry?” she asked, standing by the leather ottoman.

“No. Thank you. Is Edward here?”

“No, dear. He went to work for a little while. It’s hard for him to be here.”

“How’s Jacob?” Ben looked around and noticed Rachel’s running jacket hanging on the back of one of the breakfast chairs.

“He’s taking a nap right now. He still doesn’t know. Edward tried to tell him last night but I couldn’t contain myself. I just had to leave the room. He ended up losing his nerve. I guess I’m not helping the situation.”

“Maybe if we’re all here, we can do it together. We need to be strong for him,” Ben said.

She walked over to him. “And how are
you
?” She looked at him and gently brushed his hair away from his brow. It was the first time she had ever interacted with him like that, but he found it extremely comforting.

“I don’t know. I’m so confused.” He looked into her eyes anxiously. “Do you know what happened?”

Her gaze fell down to his chest. “Well, they say she went to Elena’s condo. No one was there; she apparently had a key and let herself in. They found a chair pushed up against the railing on the back terrace and her purse lying next to it. A woman walking her dog found her.” She paused and frowned. “Her body was lying between the building and a metal dumpster.”

“
No one
saw her jump?” Ben asked incredulously.

“That’s what the police say. The balcony was on the back side of the building facing the water and evidently surrounded by trees. I really can’t believe it myself.” She paused again and sighed. “You look tired. Why don’t you take a shower? See if you can get some rest. It’s probably going to be rough around here for the next few days.”

“I will, but …” He hesitated. “Did she seem depressed to you?”

Agnes sat down on the couch and Ben cleared one of Jacob’s toys so he could sit next to her. “You know, at first I thought it had to be a mistake. I was sure they must have mixed up her identity with somebody else’s. But after a while, I began to think about some things that had been bothering me about Rachel over the last few months. There were signs. She seemed to be preoccupied by something.” Ben raised an eyebrow, and she continued. “She was distant and I could tell she wasn’t eating because she was losing so much weight. Elena said she noticed the same things. She had actually suspected Rachel was depressed.”

“I just can’t believe she would do that to Jacob,” Ben said defiantly.

“Yes, I know. That’s the saddest part.” She put her hand over his.

“No note?” Ben was just unwilling to accept that Rachel was capable of taking her life.

“No, but she did call Elena several times before it happened.”

“It’s just not possible. I keep waiting for someone to jump out and say it’s all just some kind of sick joke.” He put his head into his big hands and moaned softly.

“I’m so sorry, Ben,” was all she said.

* * *

It was Saturday. Ben drove to the funeral home with Edward in Rachel’s SUV. Her sunglasses were still sitting in the holder by the console and there was a tube of lipstick in one of the cup holders that kept rattling from the vibration of the car’s motor. It was the only sound in the car. Ben grabbed the lipstick and put it in his coat pocket.

The day was gray and damp. The parlor was on the southwest side of town nestled between a local bank and a small gas station. As Ben walked towards the entrance, he noticed a large red tent assembled in the parking lot across the street. It was being used as a makeshift store for Christmas trees. Cars were driving away with pine trees secured to their roofs with straw twine.
Christmas. Was it true that more suicides happened during the holidays?
he wondered.

When Ben walked inside the funeral home, he was struck by the abundance of fragrant bouquets of cream and pink roses. They nearly filled the room. His heart ached when he saw the polished, dark wood casket which was closed and surrounded by more bouquets and wreaths of flowers. Ben noticed someone had left a brown teddy bear sitting on the floor, propped up against one of the larger flower arrangements. Balanced on an easel next to the casket was a portrait of Rachel. The picture had been taken about a year after Jacob was born. She was sitting on a porch with Jacob in her lap. It appeared the photographer had caught her off guard. She looked directly at the camera. Her smile was big and genuine. Jacob was looking at her adoringly. From the corner of the room, an inconspicuous string quartet softly played Beethoven’s Symphony No. 3 in E-flat major.