Helplessly Aware

By Charlie burton

Chapter 15

JC watched her plane leave silently from his motionless position beside Justin who was keeping a façade of cheerfulness. JC wondered why do it? Everyone knew that he was going to miss Grace terribly now that she had flown back to LA. His stomach churned a little as the aeroplane blurred out of focus and his blue eyes fell on the cold glass windowpane, for a moment seeing her smile and glittering eyes that danced with high spirits. What was he beginning to feel for her? What did his body already know that he’d been ignorant to?

The auction of her drawings had been even more successful than everyone had expected, especially Grace. In Johnny’s press released about JC being a single man again – one of the most wanted – he’d also informed them that Justin’s ‘sexy dancing partner’ was in fact his best friend. When people finally found out who the unknown blond was that had spent the past five years appearing with the guys behind the spotlight they seemed to love her even more. The fans looked like they loved the idea of someone who knew the group so well and was close with Justin – all of them for that matter – but wasn’t ‘romantically’ involved, for the moment anyway.

They weren’t plans to see Grace before Christmas, but there definitely be an opportunity if they were in Los Angeles. She had a hectic schedule and her recent exposure at the Florida Auction had brought around the attention of a certain important people.

“They want you, Grace,” Alyx said as they sat in the library at a table. Grace diverted her eyes from the textbook she was studying and took the College magazine that Alyx was thrusting at her.

Tapping her pen against her bottom lip she scan read the article about the auction and her artistic involvements with Jive group *NSync and Johnny Wright. “It’s nice to know I’m wanted,” she replied, sarcasm floating in her voice. Alyx had been pestering her all morning because he didn’t see the need in researching historical artists; he just wanted to get down to the real deal – painting.

“Touchy.” He retrieved the magazine and flipped to the next page. “Why you’re not ecstatic that you’ve been recognised out of a sea of budding young artists, I don’t know-”

She cut him off, this was getting to far past her line of blocking out his whining voice, “I’m ecstatic in my own way, give me a break.” Grace closed the book and gathered her things up in one sweep and walked away. Alyx jumped up and raced after her.

She couldn’t help but scowl at him. “There’s a whole big part of storming out that you’re not grasping. You don’t follow someone, that defeats the object.”

He watched her leave, scratching the back of his neck and frowned at a few people who were staring at him.

The weather was getting cooler and a gusty wind blew through her hair as she escaped the library and Alyx. The end of October had looked better. Solitary confinement, that’s what I need. Actually, it wouldn’t even be ‘confinement’ it would be voluntary confinement. She heard a deep smile-provoking laugh and she whipped her head across to see who it was. It was so familiar. Dark hair, slim figure, a basketball tucked under one arm as he gave the guy next to him a friendly slap on the back. He turned and walked in her direction, his distinct cheekbones and features all so similar of JC.

Grace snapped her gaze away and wanted to smack her face with the cumbersome book she held, but it would add another point to her weirdness tally and her day was bad enough without making it worse.

During her last class she was called to the main office for a phone call from her mom. It surprised her and different reasons were spinning through her head as to why her mom would be calling. She was showed through to a back administrative room, which puzzled her and she didn’t like the emptiness and privacy she was given. Slowly she picked up the receiver.

“Hi, mom?”

“Grace.” The voice was soft and bottomless.

“Is something wrong? Are all the guys okay? You?”

“They’re all fine, Grace. Me too.” Meg didn’t know how to tell her daughter, she couldn’t find the right words.

Grace laughed nervously. “So what’s happened?”

Putting a shaky hand across her upper face she erased the tear that had slipped from her eye. “Your dad,” she started. “Your dad had a heart attack.”

The edgy smile Grace wore vanished as her face fell. Her stomach burned and all of a sudden she noticed how clammy her hands were. “Is, is he-”

“He died last night, Grace,” her mom wept. Lynn pulled her best friend into a tight embrace.

Every inch of Grace’s body went limp, her fingers uncurled around the receiver and she stared bleary-eyed out of the window, her mouth opening a fraction as though she would reply. It never came and as Meg began to comfort her the phone went dead.

Grace hurried from the offices and she tried to leave the tears behind as she ran but they fell endlessly around her, battering her skin like harsh raindrops. Trees became paint swirls on a cluttered canvas, the sky a heavy grey cloth and people moved woodenly with lifeless expressions. I'll close my eyes and dream of where you are.

There was a dampened hush over the whole crew in Orlando as Meg broke the news to her daughter. Justin was trying to busy himself by thinking up ways he could get out to see Grace, the best just seemed to fly out and see her. JC just sat and stared at the floor, thoughts whizzing through his mind like pages of a book and every page was a jumble of words and images, Grace’s tears smudging anything he tried to understand and her blank eyes staining his heart.

“Oh God,” Meg cried, letting the phone drop. It was like a coin in a tin cup and all eyes darted to her slender figure that shook like a leaf. “She hung up.”

Justin’s thumping head knew this was bad; he wanted to just pull her into his arms and cradle her safely, and when he wiped away the tears from her cheeks he wiped away the nightmares that plagued her. Behind his closed eyes he could see the darkness creeping into the snow globe world that protected her soul, the icy white flakes that fell discoloured and sharp. They pierced her eyes and from the punctures seeped a current of red tainted tears, no one understanding the regret and torment that flowed deeply.

“Can’t we go see her?” Justin demanded, looking at Johnny and then the other guys. “I can’t just sit here and pretend like she’s gonna be okay, like she’ll deal with it alone. We’re her family!”

“Justin’s right, we’re all her family.” JC stood up and his blue eyes were set.

“I’ll see what I can do,” Johnny murmured, he knew as well as the guys did that Grace needed them now whether she wanted to believe she could get by without them or not. He headed his office to make some phone calls.

* * *

Time can bring you down, time can bend your knees, time can break your heart, have you begging please. Eric Clapton’s haunting melody rang through her ears as she sat on a grey boulder that made up the breakwater. The bottle green sea crashed below her, fringes of white curling up the rocks and reaching out to her. Grace held her knees and watched the Pacific Ocean rolling and tumbling, seagulls gliding overhead.

Tears still fell silently as the clouded sun sank towards the horizon. And I know, there'll be no more, tears in heaven. She wanted to laugh at the irony when after twelve years she was just about to see her father again and only months before he died. Grace was beginning to learn that fate had a venomous bite. Pointed fangs sinking deep into the weak flesh of her heart, turning it bitter. Would it be the same, if I saw you in heaven?

* * *

Grace, her mom and older brother Jack were a sorry sight as they’d walked into arrivals in Heathrow Airport, London. No one consoled the others and each walked alone carrying their own separate case as Martha Boaz, Grace’s aunt, her dad’s older sister, greeted them. They were only staying for a long weekend for the funeral and memorial service.

The church was picturesque and set in the middle of the English countryside, built from a greyish-yellow stone and the solid door was covered with a stained wood canopy. The slats of wood looked like gnarled fingers intertwining. Grace wished she’d been visiting for a less melancholy reason because she would have loved to taken in the beauty and mystery that surrounded the place, to capture the splendour in pencil.

She was wearing black pants and her black leather jacket, which she hugged tighter to keep out the chill wind that felt like an icy finger down her spine. The only piece of color she wore was a miniature pin with a rose with blood red petals that her father had given her before he left for England, telling her she would always be his English Rose.

Thankfully, Jack had spent the previous night talking with her about dad, and their lives. It had brought them a little closer, or at least more up-to-date with each other’s existence. From the moment they entered the church Grace could feel people’s eyes scrutinizing her, Jack too. Were they the uncaring children who hadn’t seen their father in twelve years? Or were they just the American’s? Grace would rather be known as the ‘American’ but she doubted that was the only opinion people held of her. Jack clutched her hand throughout the service and carefully took in everyone seated in the pews. The church was certainly packed and Grace was pleased to know her dad had a lot of friends and family.

David, her dad’s twin brother read one of Shakespeare’s Sonnets, it was supposed to be his favourite. His voice reminded her so much of her father’s whenever they’d talked on the phone, “From hence your memory death cannot take, although in me each part will be forgotten.”

Grace played absent-mindedly with the pin on her top and let the words ring through her head. “The earth can yield me but a common grave, when you entombed in men’s eyes shall lie.” She couldn’t comprehend how badly she wanted to see him, just one last time, just to say goodbye. “When all the breathers of this world are dead; You shall live – such virtue hath my pen – Where breath most breathes, even in the mouths of men.”

The coffin was carried outside where rain was beginning to spit from the Heaven’s. Just the sight of the earthy soil covering the brass handles made Grace feel dizzy, but she couldn’t do anymore than watch and regret, her eyes low with guilt. Her grandmother placed a wreath with her dad’s initials created from the flowers onto the grassy mound in front of the lone headstone. A few other family members, including her mother left bunches of flowers and the muted weeping rattled through her bones. Jack had to gently pinch Grace to step forward with her parting memory – a single rose with crimson, bloodstained petals.

The reception was tea and an array of cakes that had been prepared in the local village hall. Grace and Jack stuck close together, quietly drinking orange juice and a cup of steaming tea for Jack. He could tell she was uncomfortable from the way she couldn’t keep still and fidgeted with her clothes, her hair and the two silver rings on her right index finger.

“We really are the heartless kids, aren’t we?” she hissed under her breath.

“He walked out on us, remember?” Jack had always been resentful about his father’s leaving, he understood that his parents needed to separate and when his dad lived a town away things were much better off. But the move to England, that had torn something from within Jack and had barely stayed in any contact with him, especially once he left for college in Vancouver.

“I just hate the way everyone looks down at us, I’m glad that mom and auntie Martha are getting along good.”

“Grace? Jack?”

They both turned to see uncle David, a vision of their dad with just a few differences. Grace smiled and Jack nodded in a sort of acknowledgment.

“It’s nice to see again. I know he loved you both very much, he talked about you all the time,” David said with a smile.

“We thought about him too,” Grace answered. It sounded stupid but she didn’t know what else to say.

“I think he wanted you to have this,” he handed Grace a box. “I assume you’re the ‘Grace’ he meant by it.” Cautiously she took the gilded chest, which was about the size of a musical box, a satin ribbon laced around it. Her name was inscribed on the top in beautiful script and roses were intricately knotted into the design.

“Thank you,” she murmured, surprised by the gift she clutched in her hands.

“It’s a shame you can’t stay longer, but I know you both have to get back to college and your mom’s got a busy schedule.”

Jack nodded once again.

“David!” someone called.

With a smile, he said, “My help is required. I should see you this evening at Martha’s.” And he left.

* * *