guys and wasn’t as into talking about girls as much as the other boys were.
“Evan came home with black eyes and bruises and a bloody mouth all the time. Charlie tried to teach him self-defense, but being able to fight back didn’t really affect the source of the problem.”
Jimmy bowed his head, bracing it on a hand that covered his eyes.
“What?” Brennan murmured.
“This is really hard to say,” Jimmy admitted. “Makes me understand why Evan wanted me to tell you for him. “He seemed to be having an easier time of it. There weren’t any warning signs. That’s the scariest part. Charlie felt confident enough to go on a long cross-country freight run, leaving Evan alone for a few days during spring break. He was only fourteen. I went out for a walk to clear my head and to pray. I found him, lying in the grass with pill bottles—empty ones—scattered around on the ground and a bottle of cheap, strong gin right by his hand. He was... gray... and I called 9-1-1. I tried to carry him back here to my place to wake him up.”
Jaw clenched, Jimmy glanced away.
Brennan stared at him, not really breathing, his heart beating at a frantic pace, everything in him focused on what Jimmy was saying, the words themselves not really processing yet. When Jimmy started talking again it was with the saddest, most pained vestige of a smile Brennan had ever seen. Jimmy’s voice wavered as he said, “Evan wasn’t breathing when I set him down on the ground outside, right over there by the door. He was gone.
“He’d ground up the pills into a powder, they told me, and mixed it with the liquor. It entered his system fast and he went into shock. Then his heart stopped.”
Brennan hunched forward, trembling slightly, his forehead resting against his folded hands. Everything else ceased to exist but Jimmy’s voice and flashes of images provided by Brennan’s imagination. That familiar sense of loss, of losing something or someone without being able to stop it or hold them there was so intense, it jarred him to the core.
“I did CPR on him until the paramedics got here. They’d been close by at the time. It was lucky. One more minute and he wouldn’t have come back. They shocked his heart. He started to throw up once his heart was beating again and at the same time tried to suck in some air. He almost suffocated on his own vomit.”
Jimmy shook his head as if to clear it. “He came back though, that’s all that matters. The coma lasted about a month. When he finally woke up from it, that was a good day. That was a miracle. But Evan wouldn’t talk about any of it. He wouldn’t admit to trying to kill himself and he wouldn’t even acknowledge it had happened. I mean, he wasn’t really talking much at all, but especially about that. So Charlie checked him in to a psychiatric hospital about an hour away from here for evaluation and so that he could be kept on suicide watch. That lasted a couple of months.”
Brennan moaned softly, denying it, all of it.
Continuing, Jimmy said, “One day, Charlie changed his mind, out of the blue. He took Evan out of there, brought him home, and gave that boy every single thing he could ever want. Anything. He was just doing everything he could, trying to give Evan reasons to live. He bought him that car. He paid for the surgery on his eyes so he wouldn’t need the glasses anymore—for his self-esteem, you know. He homeschooled Evan as long as he could to get him out of that school and taught him to hunt, taught him to work on cars. That’s Evan. He’s still too sad, too quiet, and in too much pain. But he’s great at his job. He’s a loyal friend—to a fault. Every other weekend he works with me down at the homeless shelter and everyone there is always so happy to see him.”
Jimmy took a deep breath and laid a hand on Brennan’s arm. There were copious, silent tears streaming from Brennan’s eyes. “The resemblance between you is haunting. I am so grateful for you being
“Evan came home with black eyes and bruises and a bloody mouth all the time. Charlie tried to teach him self-defense, but being able to fight back didn’t really affect the source of the problem.”
Jimmy bowed his head, bracing it on a hand that covered his eyes.
“What?” Brennan murmured.
“This is really hard to say,” Jimmy admitted. “Makes me understand why Evan wanted me to tell you for him. “He seemed to be having an easier time of it. There weren’t any warning signs. That’s the scariest part. Charlie felt confident enough to go on a long cross-country freight run, leaving Evan alone for a few days during spring break. He was only fourteen. I went out for a walk to clear my head and to pray. I found him, lying in the grass with pill bottles—empty ones—scattered around on the ground and a bottle of cheap, strong gin right by his hand. He was... gray... and I called 9-1-1. I tried to carry him back here to my place to wake him up.”
Jaw clenched, Jimmy glanced away.
Brennan stared at him, not really breathing, his heart beating at a frantic pace, everything in him focused on what Jimmy was saying, the words themselves not really processing yet. When Jimmy started talking again it was with the saddest, most pained vestige of a smile Brennan had ever seen. Jimmy’s voice wavered as he said, “Evan wasn’t breathing when I set him down on the ground outside, right over there by the door. He was gone.
“He’d ground up the pills into a powder, they told me, and mixed it with the liquor. It entered his system fast and he went into shock. Then his heart stopped.”
Brennan hunched forward, trembling slightly, his forehead resting against his folded hands. Everything else ceased to exist but Jimmy’s voice and flashes of images provided by Brennan’s imagination. That familiar sense of loss, of losing something or someone without being able to stop it or hold them there was so intense, it jarred him to the core.
“I did CPR on him until the paramedics got here. They’d been close by at the time. It was lucky. One more minute and he wouldn’t have come back. They shocked his heart. He started to throw up once his heart was beating again and at the same time tried to suck in some air. He almost suffocated on his own vomit.”
Jimmy shook his head as if to clear it. “He came back though, that’s all that matters. The coma lasted about a month. When he finally woke up from it, that was a good day. That was a miracle. But Evan wouldn’t talk about any of it. He wouldn’t admit to trying to kill himself and he wouldn’t even acknowledge it had happened. I mean, he wasn’t really talking much at all, but especially about that. So Charlie checked him in to a psychiatric hospital about an hour away from here for evaluation and so that he could be kept on suicide watch. That lasted a couple of months.”
Brennan moaned softly, denying it, all of it.
Continuing, Jimmy said, “One day, Charlie changed his mind, out of the blue. He took Evan out of there, brought him home, and gave that boy every single thing he could ever want. Anything. He was just doing everything he could, trying to give Evan reasons to live. He bought him that car. He paid for the surgery on his eyes so he wouldn’t need the glasses anymore—for his self-esteem, you know. He homeschooled Evan as long as he could to get him out of that school and taught him to hunt, taught him to work on cars. That’s Evan. He’s still too sad, too quiet, and in too much pain. But he’s great at his job. He’s a loyal friend—to a fault. Every other weekend he works with me down at the homeless shelter and everyone there is always so happy to see him.”
Jimmy took a deep breath and laid a hand on Brennan’s arm. There were copious, silent tears streaming from Brennan’s eyes. “The resemblance between you is haunting. I am so grateful for you being
Similar Books
