Edward's Eyes Page 4

  “Remember that night?” I asked Edward.

  Edward knew what night I meant. It had been a month and a half ago.

  “Yes,” said Edward. “That’s the night we met, Sabine. Do you remember that night?”

  His voice rose and Sabine turned her head to find his face.

  “And Angela Garden,” I said, and Edward and I both laughed and couldn’t stop.

  Edward tried to teach Sabine how to throw a ball, but she was too young to care. Thanksgiving had gone, then Christmas. And Sabine smiled at Edward all the time. Edward wrote that on his wall calendar. He also began to mark off the days until spring.

  “Spring,” he whispered to Sabine. “Baseball begins.”

  Chapter 12

  Edward marked off the calendar days one by one. And then it was spring. Edward tried to teach Sabine how to crawl. Sabine got up on her hands and knees now and rocked.

  “She’ll crawl soon enough,” said Maeve. “And there will be trouble.”

  “For now she’s stuck in neutral,” said Jack.

  It rained in the morning of the first day of spring baseball, and then the sun came out. On the front porch Edward was having a discussion with Sabine about rainbows.

  “Colors, we’re looking for,” he said. “Colors!”

  He held her up, but all Sabine looked at was Edward. I could see the clouds and blue sky in her eyes—little globes of the world around her.

  “Look, Sabine,” said Edward. “There! Above the water. See? Blue, red, green? A sign!”

  Sabine’s drool fell on Edward’s cheek, sitting there like a teardrop.

  I laughed and leaned over to wipe it away.

  “You and your signs, Edward.”

  Edward looked at me, Sabine’s cheek next to his.

  “You’ll see one day, Jake. You’ll see,” said Edward.

  Maeve banged pots in the kitchen as Nanci Griffith sang “Gulf Coast Highway” above the noise: “And when we die we say we’ll catch some blackbird’s wing.”

  Trick and Albert arrived early for lunch before the first afternoon baseball game.

  “Opening day,” said Albert happily.

  Trick took Sabine’s tiny hand in his big one.

  “She’s a lot bigger. And she looks like you, Edward,” said Trick.

  “Do you think?” said Edward.

  Trick nodded.

  “I think,” he said.

  Trick took some papers out of his jacket pocket.

  “Here. Some pitching information. From the computer.”

  “Trick can find out anything. Anything in the world,” said Albert. “Something for you to remember.”

  “You just have to ask the right questions,” said Trick. He looked at me and winked. “Remember that, too. It’s kind of magical, you know. You type in a question. It answers you. But you have to ask the right question.”

  Trick sat on a chair on the porch and took Sabine on his lap.

  “The right question,” he whispered to Sabine.

  Her head bobbed as she stared at a button on Trick’s shirt.

  Things happen fast sometimes, Jack says that. Albert says it, too. On this day everything changes. It changes too fast; before anyone can say the things we should say.

  Or see the things we should be looking at.

  Or understand anything.

  Or ask the right question.

  Maeve brought out food for all of us on the porch, a big salad in a wooden bowl.

  “Look at you, Sabine, with Uncle Trick!”

  Jack brought a platter of sliced ham, with spiced apples scattered around the edges.

  Edward ran down the yard and turned for a moment.

  “I’ll be back. I have to get something in town.”

  “What?” I asked.

  “Come with me, Jake!” he called to me. “You’ll see. We’ll be right back.”

  “No, Edward. I don’t want to. It’s almost lunchtime.”

  Edward looked at me.

  I shook my head.

  “Why are you going?” I said.

  “A surprise,” called Edward happily. And he turned and ran down to our bikes, lying on the grass.

  “Don’t take your bike, Edward!” I called to him. “We never fixed those brakes.”

  Edward got on his bike and waved both of his hands in the air as he rode away.

  “Edward!” I called.

  His hands went up in the air again. I couldn’t tell if he’d heard me. And then he was out of sight.

  Out of sight. I think about riding after him for a moment. But Maeve calls to me and I don’t follow him.

  I don’t follow him.

  Chapter 13

  “Where’s that boy?” asked Maeve. She was dishing salad onto plates. “He’s been gone for a long time.”

  Sabine sat on Albert Groom’s lap. He bounced his knees lightly, chanting to her.

  “This is the way the ladies ride,

  Trip, trip, trip.

  This is the way the gentlemen ride,

  TROT, TROT, TROT.

  This is the way the farmers ride,

  Hobbledy, hobbledy, hoy.”

  Sabine’s mouth opened with happiness.

  “Edward said he’d be back soon,” said Wren. “Right, Jake?”

  I nodded.

  “He’ll be back soon,” said Will. “He loves ham.”

  “And baseball,” said Albert Groom, smiling.

  “And Sabine,” I said.

  Mary Brigid and Caitlin walked up the hill to our yard, Caitlin tossing her glove up and catching it. Weezer left his napping place under the porch, wagging his tail at them.

  “He’d be back if I’d gone with him,” I said, my voice fading as I watched a police car slowly drive into the yard. It stopped at the bottom of the yard.

  “Is that Tom?” asked Jack, putting down his plate.

  Jack began to walk down the yard. And then it was Tom who got out of the car. He stood by the hood, not moving. He had a small bag in his hand. Maeve went down the steps and caught up with Jack.

  “Tom?” she said.

  Her voice sounded very far away, as if she knew something she didn’t want to know.

  I stood at the edge of the steps. Sola moved next to me, so close our bodies touched. I could feel her begin to shake.

  When Tom reached Maeve and Jack he took Maeve’s hand and leaned down to speak to her. And then Maeve’s knees buckled; she would have fallen if Jack hadn’t gathered her up in his arms. Tom looked up at us up on the porch and started walking up the hill. Jack’s arms were around Maeve and they stood there, not moving.

  I started to walk down the stairs, but Albert Groom stopped me. He handed Sabine to me and he walked down to meet Tom. Sabine’s head nestled in my neck. She was warm and smelled of something sweet. All of these things seemed so clear.

  Tom touched Albert’s arm gently as he talked, Albert’s head down as he listened. Then Tom handed Albert the paper bag. Behind him Maeve and Jack got into Tom’s car, and they left. I thought, suddenly, maybe to keep other thoughts away, of the night that Edward and I watched a car leave and we walked to the hospital to see Sabine.

  Albert stopped at the bottom of the steps. His face looked old and more lined than it had looked before.

  “Edward’s gone,” he said.

  He looked up at us then. Tears came down his face.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “He’s gone.”

  He handed me the paper bag and I opened it. It was a small blue baseball cap.

  I couldn’t speak. Gone where? I wanted to ask. But I knew. Before I began to cry I showed it to Sabine.

  “This is for you,” I said, my voice cracking into pieces. “From Edward.”

  We didn’t eat. We couldn’t talk. No one knew what to say. We moved past each other, putting food away. Trick and Albert swept the floor and cleaned off the table. And later Weezer, as if he knew something was wrong, came up to sit on the porch, leaning against Albert.

  When Sabine beg
an to fuss, Sola handed her to me.

  “Sing to her,” she said to me.

  “But that’s…,” I began.

  A terrible silence filled the room.

  Everyone knew what I was about to say. I was about to say that was Edward’s job.

  “I can’t,” I said. “I can’t sing to her. It’s my fault. It’s all my fault!”

  Sola put her arms around me.

  The phone rang.

  Albert answered.

  “Yes? We’re fine. All right.”

  He handed the phone to me.

  “She wants to talk to you,” he said.

  “Hello?”

  “Jake. It’s Angela. Angela Garden. You remember?”

  “Yes.”

  My voice didn’t sound like mine.

  “Your mother and father are on their way home. They had to make some decisions. But they’re coming home.”

  I thought of Angela’s red hair and how it lay against her cheek. Why was I thinking that?

  “All right,” I said.

  “Jake?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m sorry. About what happened.”

  “Yes.”

  “Edward was a wonderful boy.”

  Was.

  I hung up the phone without saying anything. Without saying good-bye or thank you.

  All I could think of was that little word. So small.

  Was.

  So small.

  And so big.

  Chapter 14

  Trick and Albert drank coffee in the kitchen. They were silent. Everything in the house was still. Wren was in her room, the door closed. Will, too. Sola had been gone for a long time. I walked out on the porch and saw her sitting down by the water, Sabine on her lap. I walked down the steps and down the grass, wet with early dew now. I stepped over second base and my throat tightened up. I could feel tears at the corners of my eyes.

  I stood next to Sola for a moment. The sky was flat dark blue, no clouds. She didn’t look up at me. I sat down next to her. She turned then, and her face didn’t seem like Sola’s face anymore. It looked like stone. It frightened me. Sabine made small baby sounds between us. A herring gull wheeled over the water and I thought about the day Edward had hit a long ball where the gull had flown. A sign.

  We sat for a long time, not speaking. And then we heard a car. We stood and watched Tom’s police cruiser come into the driveway. Jack got out of the backseat and reached out his hand to help Maeve. Tom got out, too, and went up to Maeve and held her hand, just the way he had when he came to get them and take them away. Then Tom got into his car and left. Maeve and Jack walked up the yard, holding hands. Jack turned and saw us then, and they stopped. No one said anything. Wasn’t anyone going to say something? Anything?

  Maeve’s eyes were red rimmed and that frightened me as much as Sola’s stone face had frightened me.

  “Oh, Sabine,” she whispered.

  She took Sabine. Then she put her arms around me and I began to cry so hard that she handed Sabine to Jack and held me tighter, as if she knew I might break into a thousand pieces if she didn’t.

  “Come. Into the house,” she said softly.

  Jack took Sola’s hand. We walked up to the porch and into the house.

  Albert and Trick stood up.

  “Maeve…,” Albert began, his voice breaking. “We’ll go now.”

  “No.” Maeve’s voice was stronger now.

  “Thank you for staying,” said Jack. “Thank you so much.” He put Sabine into her high chair.

  Wren and Will had heard Tom’s car. They stood in the kitchen doorway. Maeve hugged them both.

  “I want you to stay, Albert. Trick. I want to tell you what happened.”

  Albert filled a glass of water and handed it to Maeve.

  “Thank you, Albert.”

  She looked up at Albert standing next to her.

  “What would we do without you?” she said, her eyes filling up with tears.

  Jack put his head down on his arms for a moment. And there was silence again. Late afternoon light fell across the kitchen table. Maeve got up and turned on a lamp.

  I waited for her to speak. But I couldn’t wait any longer.

  “It was the brakes of the bike, wasn’t it? I told him not to go. I should have followed him….”

  Maeve held up her hand with a fierce look. Sabine’s hand went up to Albert’s cheek.

  “Could? Should?” said Maeve, her voice flat. “I could have told Edward not to go to town, Jake. Maybe I should have.”

  She took a sip of her water.

  “I bet you already thought about that. Didn’t you?”

  My face got hot.

  I had thought of that.

  “It’s all right, Jake. You haven’t thought anything that hasn’t gone through my mind today, either.”

  She stroked my hair.

  “Now. We won’t talk about ‘woulds’ or ‘coulds,’” she went on.

  “We will talk about Edward,” she said softly.

  Chapter 15

  Wren came over and leaned on Trick. He put an arm around her. Will sat across from me. Sola stood at the sink, so still.

  Maeve began.

  “Edward died at one o’clock this afternoon,” she said flatly.

  I could hear Sola take in a breath. It was the first time it had been said. Edward’s gone, Albert had said. Gone meant he was somewhere to be found. Dead meant dead.

  “One o’clock,” I whispered.

  “Game time,” said Jack, taking my hand. “If you’re thinking that, it’s all right.”

  “It wasn’t anyone’s fault that he died,” said Maeve. “There’s no one to blame.”

  “It wasn’t the brakes of his bike, Jake,” said Jack. “No one ran into him. He turned on his bike to wave and smile at someone across the street.”

  “I can see him doing that,” Maeve whispered. “And he ran into a tree. And that was all. No one knows why he went to town.”

  “He went to get a baseball cap. That one,” I said. “For Sabine.”

  Maeve picked up the cap and and put it up to her cheek.

  “And we can’t blame Sabine, either,” she said. “Can we.”

  Wren began to cry. Trick gathered her onto his lap and held her.

  “So, he’s just gone. Like that?” said Will angrily. “Gone forever?”

  Maeve took a deep breath.

  “Yes,” she said. “And no.”

  They have taken Edward’s heart. And his lungs and other organs to give people who need them. Even his tissue they’ve taken. Maeve tells us this is like Edward living on. No, I want to say. It is not like Edward living on. Where is he? I want to yell at her. They’ve taken all of him. Where is Edward!?

  “And there’s one thing more,” said Maeve, looking at me.

  “We have donated Edward’s corneas.”

  I jumped up from the table, my chair crashing on the floor behind me. Sabine began to cry.

  “Why did you do that?” I yelled at Maeve. “I hate you for doing that!”

  Albert Groom put his arms around me and held me close. I fought him at first. Then I gave up and cried.

  “No!” I said into his shirt. “They are Edward’s eyes!”

  Albert turned and walked me to the kitchen door and out onto the porch, closing the door behind us.

  After a minute he leaned down close to my ear. I could feel the tears on his face. He whispered so softly that I leaned back and looked at him to hear better.

  “Someone should have those wonderful eyes,” he said softly. “Someone who needs them.”

  I stared at him.

  Then he looked over my head out to the water.

  “Remember what Trick once said? You have to ask the right questions.”

  “I would ask why did Edward die,” I said.

  Albert sighed.

  “Maybe. But maybe the right question now is what would Edward want?”

  I went over to the porch railing and looked out t
o the baseball field. No players. Only Weezer sitting down by the water waiting for something.

  “Weezer looks like he’s waiting for something,” I said. “A sign.”

  Behind me Albert Groom’s voice was clear and steady.

  “I think we’re all waiting for a sign,” he said sadly.

  Chapter 16

  It was quiet for days. There was no laughter in our house and no talk. Silence filled all the spaces, taking up all the air.

  Flowers were delivered. Food arrived.

  But no music.

  “Maeve doesn’t sing,” I said to Jack.

  “She will, Jake. When the right time comes.”

  “What’s the right time?” I asked him.

  “It will come,” was all he said.

  He put his arms around me.

  “I promise,” he said very softly.

  Will packed up all his books in boxes and put them under his bed.

  “I don’t want to read,” he told me.

  Wren was quiet.

  “Want to go to town, Wren? We’ll have ice cream,” I said.

  Wren shook her head.

  “It’s too scary,” she said.

  I had no answer for her.

  Some nights Maeve took walks. I saw her from my window. And once when I passed Edward’s room she was there, sitting on his bed, slowly turning the pages of Goodnight Moon. She never saw me standing in the doorway. I wanted her to look up, smile at me, and beckon me in to sit by her. But she didn’t. So I made her hear me.

  “I taught him how to read,” I said, my voice loud in the quiet room.

  Maeve jumped a bit, startled.

  “And I sat with him in the bathroom, and read him that book.” I pointed.

  “Even in French, and I taught him baseball rules, and…” I couldn’t go on.

  Maeve got up and put her arms around me.

  “Oh, Jake, it was as if he was yours from the very beginning,” she said. “You raised him.”

  I looked at her, surprised.

  “He loved you,” said Maeve. “Maybe he never said it. But it was you he came to for everything.”