Eternal: Chapter Six, Part 7

It wasn’t difficult to track down to where Jake had disappeared; he had left in a terrible mood with a unique mix of emotions trailing behind him: disappointment, anger, hatred, self-loathing, and a touch of sorrow. The trail he left traversed campus and through the park nearby, down to the river on the edge of the field just beyond the park. He wasn’t much better off than when he’d left; if anything, he had just started bottling it all up again.

“Jake?” I asked, standing a few feet from where he was sitting on the bank. He stiffened, keeping his back to me and curling into himself. “Could you talk to me? Like a person who isn’t being purely defensive?”

When he didn’t respond, I sat next to him and waited a moment. He wasn’t running, which was a good thing, but something was definitely wrong. All of his bitterness wasn’t from normal circumstances. Something over the past few years had changed him. Never could I have imagined him so cold and hard.

“What’s wrong?” I tried, wanting him to open up to me. He’d feel better if he did, I was sure of it.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, staring fixedly at the water as if it was going to give him the answers he wanted. I would have told him it wouldn’t if I had thought it might help. “I don’t even know you, Leirba.”

Leaning back on the heels of my palms, I sighed. True, he was being a pain, but it was also true he wasn’t necessarily himself. Besides, anger wasn’t going to help me with this; it would only worsen things. “You do know me, so don’t even pretend.”

“Then why are you going by a different name, Abriel?” His eyes met mine; the brightness I had seen before was just a trick of the light. They were dull and lifeless; I wondered if the hint of childishness in his smile had also been an illusion. It was difficult to tell anymore. “It’s sketchy.”

“Drei wants me to go by Leirba for now. It’s really long and complex and I’m not really supposed to talk about it,” I said, having to look away from him. I wanted him to trust me, but I couldn’t even give him sufficient reason to. “Now what changed you?”

“Why are you here?” he asked instead. “Why now? Why not before?”

“Before what?” I inquired, hoping he’d say something to let me pry further.

No such luck. “Before now.”

It amazed me I could even be talking to the same person from all those years ago. The others, I could still see them, who they had been beneath who they had become. But every trace of who Jake had been…it was like it had all been erased.

“Before now I’d been figuring things out. I’ve been learning about myself and my movement, and some other stuff—”

“That you can’t talk about,” he finished bitterly. I winced at the daggers in his voice. “Well, while you were off doing whatever it was that was more important,” he spat, facing me, his face red and splotchy, contorted in a nasty combination of heartache and fury, “I was shipped from relative to relative until I was dumped into foster care, and then shipped from family to family.”

I was speechless for a moment, my mind absent of any response. “What happened to your mom?” I asked, remembering how he had told me she’d sent him to the camp for his protection. In his relation of it, she had promised to be there when he returned to her.

“The fucking government happened!” he screamed, tears coursing down his cheeks as his bottled emotions spewed forth. I tried to clear them away as best I could while letting him still go through the sensations. He needed to; he needed to feel again. He’d been making himself numb for too long and it was alienating him. “By the time I got back they’d picked her up.  My dad blamed me for everything; said if I’d never been born she’d never have been caught. He told me get the fuck out before he killed me. So I went to my grandparents, who sent me to one relative to another and to another until the last one didn’t want me either. I was dropped in their fucking system!” he yelled, pulling his knees to his chest and running his hands through his hair. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to hide in their fucking system?”

I pulled him into my embrace, knowing it wasn’t the foster care system he was angry at; it wasn’t even me. He felt like his father had told him the truth. It was his fault; he was the only one to blame.

“Jake,” I whispered, cradling him in my arms, rubbing his back and trying to limit how much of his pain he had to go through. There was so much and it was still so raw, as if he had avoided feeling any of it before now. “It’s okay. You’re okay. It isn’t your fault.”

He pulled away from me, his bloodshot eyes revealing how unworthy of my help he felt he was. “But it—”

“Your mother loves you,” I told him sternly. “She told you that, and she meant it. Nothing changed that,” I said, taking his hands in mine. He stared at me blankly, unsure how to respond; he wanted to believe me, but he had also spent so much time believing he was to blame. What I said seemed only like a happy pipe dream. “Nothing changes her love for you. Okay?”

He nodded slightly, wiping away his tears.