Blindness

My phone buzzes, and I jump in my seat.

“Hello?” I ask, recognizing the 502 area code, but somehow frightened of it.

“Hey, Charlie,” Brian says, his voice heavy, older, and tired. “We’re ready for you, if you can come in?”

I tap my spoon on the table in front of my cup, biting my tongue. I have to do this, but I don’t want to. I’m scared—no matter how irrational I know it is. I’m frightened that the suspect, this man, is going to be the man. I’m also afraid he’s not.

“Charlie?” Brian says, and I can tell he’s worried. He’s afraid I’m going to chicken out.

“Yeah, I’m here. I’ll be there in ten minutes,” I say, hanging up on him without a goodbye. I’m short with him, and I feel awful about it, but talking to Brian hurts. I’ve talked to him every six months for the last three years, always rehashing my story, what I saw, anything new I remember. I know he’s just doing his job. I know he’s more dedicated to finding Mac’s killer than most—Brian and Mac were best friends, and partners. But talking to him makes everything inside hurt, and I guess I’m just growing tired of hurting, and then fighting to bury it back down.

Trevor hasn’t left, and I know it’s because he heard Brian call. I’m glad he’s still here. He knows the law, and he understands everything I’m about to do, go through, say and see—and there’s something comforting in that. But what I want more than anything, right now, is to crawl up in Cody’s lap and hide, hide for hours.

“It’s time,” I say, sliding out and walking up front to pay our bill.

“I’ll drive,” Cody says, his fingers grazing my shoulder and arms as he walks by, and for just a few seconds I forget it all and feel good.

The parking lot is full of weeds and cracks—it’s not the best part of town. But it’s the place Mac and I ate, so I wanted to come here. It seemed fitting before I went in to send his killer behind bars for what I hoped would be forever.

Trevor rented a car from the airport, and I can tell he’s a little nervous about leaving it here unattended. “I’ll just follow you guys,” he says, mumbling to himself as he walks away. I know he’s loath to leave Cody and me alone, but I’m so grateful for these few minutes I have with him.

We get in the truck, and I buckle my belt and reach over to touch his leg, right where I saw his scar. I lay my hand flat on it, letting it fall heavy onto him, and he looks at it, sucking in his bottom lip, before he puts his hand on top and strings his fingers through mine, locking us together. He brings my hand up to his mouth and kisses the palm.

“I’m so sorry, Charlie,” he says, and I know he is. Cody may be the only other person on earth who can understand what I’m feeling right now. We both lost our fathers—our idols, the molds for these adults we’ve become.

I take a deep breath and hold it in, closing my eyes and searching for my bravery.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” I admit, my throat shaking with my fear.

“You can. And I’ll be right here,” Cody says, squeezing my hand tightly.

Trevor’s honking behind us now, his arm rested along the wheel, and his face disgusted. I scoot a few inches away from Cody so Trevor sees the distance between us from his view through our back window, but I keep his hand in mine, my grip tight.

The drive to the precinct is short, and we’re inside asking the front security officer for Brian. I’m a little surprised when he rounds the corner—his hair is white, and his belly is fat. I haven’t seen him in a little over three years, but he seems a decade older. His smile warms the closer he gets to me, and I can’t help but feel a little joy in seeing him.

“Kiddo,” he says, his usual toothpick hanging from the corner of his mouth, dusting the bottom of his thick mustache.

I fold into his arms naturally, hugging him tightly and holding on.

“You can do this,” he whispers in my ear, and I squeeze him a little tighter, not sure that I can.

“I hope so,” I say, my throat closing as my nerves creep up on me.

I pull away from him, but keep my arm wrapped around his back while I stand at his side. “Brian, this is Trevor and Cody…” I say, trailing off a little unnaturally, not sure what to call either of them at this point. I realize at that moment Trevor’s ring is still tucked in my pocket.

“We’re here to offer our support,” Cody says, stepping in to shake Brian’s hand. I see Trevor stiffen defensively when Cody speaks, and he’s reaching his hand in now, too.