We Watched the City Burn

Chapter 24

Sanity clung to me, like a wounded child, and no matter how hard I tried to drive myself insane, I clung to sanity as well. Olimpia came often, as well as cops, they asked me things that no one should know; doctors studied my body I no longer made any attempts to hide. Now that my secrets were gone, I needed to find something else to cling to, and something else to stake hope in. Something to get me out of this hospital bed; Aurora, my star, comes by to see me daily, as well as her Mother who looks me over, shaking her head, lips in a tight line. According to Aurora, this is as touchy-feely as she ever gets, so I should feel special.

I do feel special, she watches the nurses with hawk eyes, leaning over and watching as they make sure my body is healing; when they take my BP and temp, she hovers like an over-protective mother hen. It makes me feel like I have a mother again, in some form. As for my father, I haven’t asked about him, and Olimpia hasn’t said anything about him, but I have a pretty good idea of where he is now. They don’t have lube in jail, daddy.

Truthfully, I’m not worried about him at all. The only reason why I’m not worried is because there are people there, and no booze; people that’ll teach him that he’s not the biggest, the strongest and other, meaner men to put him in his place.

Other than that, I try not to think about anything related to him, or the life I had outside these walls. As it turned out, He did break a couple of my ribs, and cracked a couple. I’m taped up in the middle like a mummy, which makes breathing a little tricky, sorta like someone’s got me in a bear hug around the middle, and no matter how hard I tug they don’t let go.

And, of course, where there are broken bones, there are pain killers. They’ve become my best friend, I can get up and sit by the window,  or walk about in the hallway without too much pain. But, I know I’m going to be discharged soon and since I’m a legal adult, I need to find some place to live. I don’t have any living grandparents, or aunts and uncles. Aurora’s mother was in the room with Olimpia and I while we talked about it, the wrinkles in her forehead becoming canyons.

So, when she and Aurora come storming into my room, around 7pm, tearing apart the quiet, I sit perched on my bed, my clothes that Aurora got me from home packed into a large brown bag. Aurora, beaming, hands me a small, bronze key. Clasping her hands on front of her, bouncing around like a kid on Christmas. I turned the key, the brand new key, over in my hands, and shrugged.

“Matthew, you can be so slow. That’s a key to my house, our house now. My mom and I were talking, and since you have no family to go to or any other friends, she wants you to come live with us. I told you she was worried about you, boy.” She smiled at me, beaming, eyes teary and shinning.

I stare at the key in my hand, my brain reels, trying to connect everything she just told me. My mind can’t wrap around what’s just happened.

A woman I hardly know, who I’ve only spoken to once or twice, has decided to open her home to a pierced and tattooed strange teenager. The two words that Aurora said beat up against me, like ocean waves upon a reef.

Our house.

Our house.

Our house.

I didn’t realize that I was crying until the first tear landed on the….my new house key. Quickly, I wiped it off and tucked the key into my hoodie pocket. I locked eyes with Aurora, speechless, my mouth agape, tears down my face. She hugged me close to her, holding on to me so tight that I knew this was real.

She was real, I was real. I was alive and I was finally safe. I could feel my ribs getting sore again, but still we held on to each other. I could feel her heart thrumming, mine singing. Ferdinand was buzzing all over my body, at one point, making the leap from my body to hers.

We didn’t kiss, there in the hospital room, it wasn’t the right time. Just like before, we weren’t ready. I wasn’t ready and neither was she; life was too complicated right now for both of us, and we both knew we had so many more important things to get together. We just hugged, and hugged, by the time I let her slip out of my arms, I needed a new dose of pain meds, and spent two hours lying in bed, watching basic cable while Aurora and I shared crappy snacks and decent coffee from the cafeteria. The stars were shining through my window, beacons of hope on my now visible future.