An Open Sky

The door cracked against the wall as Mr. Cohen stumbled into the room. A red-faced nurse entered quickly behind him. She laid her hand on his shoulder.

                “Sir—he can’t see anyone right now.” It looked as if she’d repeated the phrase ten times already.

                “He looks fine.” I glanced up as he shook off the nurse’s grasp and walked toward me. His eyes were glazed, bloodshot. He did nothing but watch me; his lips tensed into a line. My heart rate quickened.

                “Where is she?” His voice gave into the pressure building inside of him. He glanced down; the tears left dark spots on his un-tucked work shirt. 

                I knew it was coming. I knew she was gone. My flaws left her dead, just like they had before. I let her down. Again. It happened again and all I could do was watch as it destroyed all of them.  

                I shook my head. “I don’t know, sir.”

                The nurse once again took his arm and tried to pull him out. “These are not visiting hours. Come back at three and you can see him then.”   

                His eyes closed and he ran his free hand over his face. The tears melted into his skin. He bent over; he was weak with sorrow. I couldn’t talk to him, but I couldn’t let him go.

                I sat up; the IV’s tugging at my flesh as I strained against them. “Let him stay, please,” I stuttered, “Just for a few minutes.”

                To my surprise the nurse allowed him to stay, either out of kindness or lack of enough physical strength to force him out the door. “Ten minutes, no more.” She casted Mr. Cohen one last admonition glance and exited the room.

                “Alexa didn’t come home last night. The police said that Jay is gone too.” He paused for awhile, fixated on his shoe, then continued, “I knew I shouldn’t have let her…I should’ve known something was wrong. I’ve been so scared of losing her, but now I can’t even say if I’d ever had her to begin with. Aidan, I didn’t come here to make you feel sorry; I came to ask when you saw her last. Did she say anything to you? Please…” he stopped to wipe his eyes. It made me uncomfortable to watch a grown man cry and plead for me to talk to him. I wished I could give him an answer.

                When he dropped his hands, he didn’t continue. He watched me. He waited for me to tell him that everything was alright. I couldn’t. She could be dead for all I knew.

                As he watched me, a new set of tears forming in his eyes, determination bubbled within me. I knew not for what or why, but it was unmistakably there. I had to find her. Dead or alive I needed to bring her back to him, to let him know what happened.

                I had nothing to lose. Jay had taken everything from me. It was my turn. I closed my eyes.

                I pictured Layla laughing, singing, dancing. How she always used to twirl her hair when she talked on the phone. I remembered the softness of her lips on my cheek.

                I pictured Alexa sitting on the couch next to me, close enough to touch, yet so unimaginably far away. The desire that swept over me and the pain of letting her go.

                Her father, crying for her, waiting for her to walk through the door, realizing the emptiness in him. He stood in front of me. The only remains of my memory, the one spark to my determination. I wouldn’t let him die with her.

                It was my turn.

                And Jay wouldn’t escape again.