| Time for a Story |
This story first appeared in our writing group’s third anthology, A Little Off the Page
Bennett and Kingsleigh
..sometimes the younger you are, the more you know about love.
Installment 10 - the Final Chapter
A few days later, policemen came to ask Kingsleigh questions. They had spoken with Kyle and his mother already, so they were kind to her. They made a point of telling Michelle however, that they had told the Kusslers not to have contact with either of them.
Michelle glanced over her shoulder to where another officer was asking Kingsleigh to tell her again, slowly, what happened. “Why would you do that? She’s dying to know how Bennett is. She wants to see him. We’re not family, so the hospital won’t talk to us. I was planning to ask DeeDee to come over and tell Kingsleigh how he’s doing.”
The officer wore a sympathetic look. “No one’s told you anything, then? I should warn you. We recommended the family stay away because right now, the Kusslers blame your little girl for the fight. Said it was her fault for always hanging around and interfering—”
“They said that?” Michele’s whisper was furious.
“They did, at first, but her friend Kyle explained that Marcus had been taunting Bennett about his dad and the team, and that Marcus picked on her and shoved her around. They understand Bennett was defending her, but apparently—they don’t understand the depth of the kids’ friendship?” At her murmured confirmation, he added, nodding, “I’ve got kids too.”
Michelle answered slowly, trying to comprehend, trying hard to empathize with the parents shocked by what had happened to their son. “I thought DeeDee did. Not Doug. He’s got a different . . . philosophy . . . about boys and girls, even little ones. I gathered he sort of recruited Marcus to get Bennett introduced to male friends and activities, to try and break up his friendship with my daughter. I didn’t think it would turn to this!”
The officer shook his head. “Some people just don’t get it. They hold to a lot of stereotypes. They miss out on so much.”
Michelle turned her head quickly. “You do understand, don’t you? Thank you, officer.”
“Ma’am.” They walked back to where the other police officer was finishing up her interview with Kingsleigh.
“Mom, when can I see Bennett?”
The three adults exchanged glances.
“I’m afraid you can’t yet, honey. He’s still at the hospital and can’t have visitors.”
“Well can I give Mrs. Kussler some drawings to take to his hospital room? She can put them up where he can see them.”
“Um—we’ll see.”
“Mrs. Barnes? There is one other thing—”
“What?”
“It’s not really my place to tell you this, but someone needs to. The boy is in a medically induced coma until they evaluate the injury.”
“So—he’s not even awake?”
“Mommy!”
Michelle gathered her sobbing daughter into her arms.
It took six weeks for answers to be found and decisions to be made. Six weeks in which Kingsleigh set up a prayer vigil for Bennett. She obeyed her mother when told to eat. She went to school. She did her homework. All that she asked of her mother was time to pray for Bennett. All that she asked of God was to make him better again.
In the same six weeks, Mr. and Mrs. Kussler came to the Barnes home once. It was a stiff, uncomfortable visit, and Kingsleigh was only in the room for a few short minutes.
There was an apology, of sorts. Afterwards, Kingsleigh went out back and sat in her swing, dangling in circles, staring at the scuffed-up ground beneath her feet. Kevin came outside to offer a soda, but then took up a watchful position from the driveway where he could see her and shoot baskets at the same time.
DeeDee had reported tearfully on Bennett’s condition, which the doctors were still unsure about. The bumps, bruises, and gashes had healed, but his motor skills were off and he couldn’t concentrate. Most of all, he couldn’t remember everything, including his friends. They didn’t let Kingsleigh see him because he couldn’t place who she was. Telling her this was one thing, seeing the blank expression on his face if she visited him would be another thing entirely.
Doug apologized for his behavior, also tearfully, much to the surprise of the collective Barneses. The most precious being in his life now faced a precarious future, because Doug hadn’t been able to relent in his image of how a boy should be; because he couldn’t accept that people were all different, but that differences are not what matters. He told both Michelle and Kingsleigh that he was sorry. It would take time for them to accept his apology, although they recognized it to be sincere.
Then the biggest news: The Kusslers were moving. There was a specialist in Minnesota that would be able to help Bennett with his recovery, but no one knew how long it would take. A new environment wouldn’t be a challenge for him, because his memories of his life were so jumbled. It wasn’t like he needed to stay in familiar surroundings to feel secure. He needed medical help.
It was when they told Michelle that no, they didn’t know when they were coming back—or even if—that Kingsleigh’s shoulders slumped their lowest and she meandered outside to the swing.
When Daddy died, it was bad. This was worse.
They finally let her see him, once. It was the day they moved away.
Mrs. Kussler brought him to the door while Mr. Kussler packed the last few things in the car. Michelle had explained that Bennett didn’t remember her, and because of that, he might act a little strange around her.
“Try not to let it upset you, Kingsleigh, or they might not stay. They said they could only spare a half hour.” Michelle smoothed her daughter’s hair.
“Okay,” Kingsleigh whispered. She’d walk through fire before she’d lose one more chance to be with Bennett. I can always cry later, she told herself, steeling her eyes from watering.
They’d come to the door. Bennett looked first at his mom, then Kingsleigh. He looked just the same as he ever had! Maybe he was thinner. And taller. He must have started one of those growth spurts grown-ups talked about. At last, he offered a tentative smile. DeeDee nudged him gently through the door. Michelle brought snacks to the family room where the kids had spent so many afternoons, watching the movies, doing their homework. There was a lump in her own throat when she left the room.
“I made you something,” Kingsleigh said suddenly, putting a folded paper in front of Bennett. “For your new room. You can look at it on the trip.” Please, please let him open it now.
Bennett left the paper lying on the table. “Thanks,” he said. His voice was softer, less cocky.
Kingsleigh felt the floor wobble beneath her feet. Where was her Bennett? Then she grit her teeth.
“Mommy said I could write you letters at your new house, but only if you want me to. Be—because you might not want to have some girl you don’t remember write to you.”
“Oh. I mean, thanks. I don’t know how I’d feel. Maybe you can send one in a little while, and we’ll see.”
He didn’t respond to the way she said ‘some girl’, but maybe that didn’t mean anything. He was probably just being polite.
Slowly, they ate their snacks. The time crawled. The TV was on, but they didn’t even change the channel when a boring infomercial came on the air.
Kingsleigh drew a deep breath. “How are you feeling?”
Bennett shrugged, barely lifting his shoulders.
“Are you still–does your dad let you–how’s football?” she finished lamely.
He sighed. “I can’t.”
“What?” She stared.
“I can’t play. My hands don’t work well enough now. There’s a lot I can’t do. It’s part of what the doctors are going to work on.” Bennett stared glumly at his feet.
“Bennett,” Kingsleigh raised her hand and lowered it again. He wouldn’t get understand. She swallowed. “What does your dad say?”
“He’s upset, because they told him they don’t know if I’ll ever play.”
“He’s upset, sure. How do you feel?”
“I don’t know if it matters or not. I don’t remember.”
There were no words for that. The two sat, and munched, and stared, but not at each other. At last they heard the ‘chunk’ of car doors slamming.
“That must be my dad.”
Doug’s voice called out from the kitchen, “We’re all packed up. Time to hit the road.”
DeeDee appeared in the doorway. “Come on, Bennett. Kingsleigh, you be a good girl for your mother, okay?”
Kevin appeared at the foot of the stairs and gave Bennett a fist bump. Michelle gave him a brief hug, not enough to embarrass him. Kingsleigh put her hand on his shoulder timidly.
“I know it won’t mean much to you, but could I hug you goodbye?”
Bennett saw the tears waiting in the corners of her eyes. Something told him she’d cry if she couldn’t hug him. He didn’t want her to cry. “Sure.”
They hugged, Kingsleigh letting her heart lift with hope. When they separated, Bennett said, “Wait, I forgot something.” He ducked back into the family room and came walking out, a sheet of paper in his hand,
Kingsleigh caught her breath. He opened it!
Bennett looked up with a smile and a nod. “Thanks. I like it.”
“You could hang it up in your room. I made one for me too. It’s on my wall.”
DeeDee gave Michelle a questioning look, but all she could do was shake her head. She didn’t know anything about this.
Everyone walked out. The Kusslers proceeded to their car, DeeDee walking with one arm around Bennett’s shoulder, her other hand cradling her belly where she’d just begun to show. The Barnes family remained on the porch. The car’s engine fired up, and with a wave, they headed down the drive.
Kingsleigh watched the car disappear, then let tears overwhelm her eyes. She didn’t know where he was going, except to get help. She didn’t know when or if she’d ever see him again. She brushed her eyes with her forearm. It was like with Daddy, only not. Daddy couldn’t come back, and Kingsleigh understood that. But he was a part of her, and he was safe in heaven. Bennett wasn’t in heaven, she didn’t know where he’d be, and she didn’t know if he knew he was a part of her. She didn’t know if he’d ever know that or anything else about them again. She brushed the tears back a second time, and turned away from her mom to sit on the edge of the porch swing. She glanced up now and then, just to see if maybe the Kusslers’ car would turn back into their driveway and they had changed their mind and it startled Bennett so much he snapped out of it and—but, of course, even she knew it was too soon and that it couldn’t happen that way. She’d just have to remember everything they’d ever done: everything about what it felt like for Bennett to be here every day, right next door; going to school with her; and sharing laughter at school, and in their cars, and at home. So long as she did that and so long as he was—well, not okay but not sick either—so long as he was somewhere on the planet, she could maybe be okay. She could be okay for him, because he would still be part of her world.
It was a long evening, and Kingsleigh went to bed early. Her mother stopped up to check on her. She slept as if she didn’t want to wake up.
Well, thought Michelle, maybe right now she doesn’t. She sat down in the rocker next to the bed to watch over her for a while and to ponder the last few months.
Kingsleigh had moved around some of her artwork. A picture of bunnies that had hung on her wall was now on the dresser. One of Kingsleigh’s drawings hung in its place.
“That must be her copy of the one she gave Bennett,” murmured Michelle to herself, studying it. It was a drawing of the Earth, oceans in vivid blue, continents slightly off-shape but recognizable. On one side of the planet stood an outsized figure of a boy. Bennett, no doubt. On the other side, on another continent, stood a girl with Kingsleigh’s slight curls and trademark shorts. Both were smiling wide, giggly-looking smiles.
Rainbow letters filled the bottom of the paper.
“My World.”
******