Til Death Do Us Part
He trembled as he watched her pull a drag off of her joint. The way her hands shook as she put the small, burning roll of paper and weeds to her lips and dizzily inhaled the drug.
Chay had given her the name Iona. He had remembered its meaning had something to do with jewels. That was what she reminded him of when they met. He looked into her eyes and found a treasure. She was a naturally beautiful girl. The child had brown, soft, straight hair to her waist, brown eyes so deep they could have been black, full lips, tan skin, and a mature body. But with her eyes downcast and her body drooped with fatigue and hunger, Iona did not appear to be a treasure. She was a thing to be pitied.
Leaning against a crate, listening to the faint jazz music drifting in from the Quarter, Chay took the joint that Iona offered him from her small fingertips and pulled a drag from it. “Le’s get outta heah, dahlin. Rain’s gon’ come soon. We gon’ get pneumonia iffen’ we don’ get outta heah,” he said to her.
Chay stood up and Iona held her hands up to him. He had always found it adorable that she was so childlike. The poor thing would never have survived had he not found her.
The age difference between the two of them had helped to make their relationship more bearable. Chay loved the girl as a lover, but there was that childlike quality about her that made him want to be a daddy to her.
Iona had run away at the age of 15. Chay had only found the girl a few days afterwards. She had told him, “Mah daddy usta lay the belt on me. He made me do things ah dinna lak.” She had refused to say any more. He had concluded on his own that from the scars on her back and bruises on her chest and shoulders that her father had done far worse to her than ‘lay the belt’.
He had found her rummaging through garbage behind a restaurant. In the middle of the garbage heap, he had found his buried treasure.
Chay had been 24 when he found the girl. He was out of the job and plain down on luck through no fault of his own. The young man had had financial problems that got so bad he had been kicked out of his apartment and onto the streets. But he had managed to survive.
Iona had often told him he was handsome, but he had never quite believed the girl. His body was lean and muscular, though. she said she liked his blue eyes and black hair. The little girl was fascinated with pretty things, though, so she must not have lied about it.
Their love was deep, even if it lacked the intimacy most adult relationships had. There was kissing and holding, of course, but Iona was frightened of anything too sexual, so Chay did not push her for fear of hurting her sanity and damaging her emotionally. Not that it bothered him. This was not that kind of love.
Iona leaned heavily against Chay as they walked along the sidewalk. The sad couple trudged toward the warehouse district. In the Big Easy, there were so many abandoned apartment buildings that it was not difficult to find a place to sleep at night if one knew where to look. They had to be careful, though. Staying in one place every night made it easier to get caught. But it did not bother them. Home is where the heart is, and their hearts were with each other.
The girl smiled up at Chay adoringly. She was so childish, but that childishness was her charm. Even though she did not look it, Iona was young for her age. The child was innocent at heart and so vague that Chat often times wondered if she was completely sane. But, he figured that after her conditions at home, no one could blame the little girl for being a little off mentally.
With a twinkle in her eyes that contrasted with the sullen, shadowed look of the rings around them, the girl asked, “Are we lookin’ for jobs tomorra’?”
“Yeah, chere, we gotta. Ya’ got any o’ dat munney I gave ya?”
“We spent it on th’ weed, love.”
He frowned. “How we gon’ eat tonight?” he asked, a little harsher than he intended to.
Iona’s eyes glazed over with tears. Chay immediately regretted his tone of voice. Iona had problems and a small bit of anger could throw her over the edge. “I’m sowwy, love! Yuh tol’s me ta give yuh some munney, so ah did! Ah dinna know we ain’s had none!” Tears spilled over the rims of her eyes and she began whining pathetically.
His heart ached as the girl sobbed. “I’s sorry, love. We can swipe sum fruit frum th’ mahket, aight?”
The child stopped sobbing. “Aight.”
Chay turned to a cathedral that was alongside the road and pulled the girl with him. “How’s bout we talk to God for awhile before we get the fruit an’ go home?”
Iona kept following him, nodding profusely and looking adoringly at Chay. He kissed her forehead and they walked into the church.
* * *
The next morning, Chay awoke, looked at the tiny body lying in his arms, and immediately turned away and vomited up his fruit from the night before.
The little girl whose real name he never had known was lying in his arms, pale under the dirty smudges on her skin, holding a small dagger he had given her to protect herself with when he was out job hunting in one hand. Her other wrist had a jagged vertical slice, beginning right under the palm of her hand and ending after two inches. Iona’s hands were smeared in blood. His middle section, where her hand rested, was soaked in her precious blood.
A note scribbled with Iona’s messy handwriting read:
Chay,
You were mad yesterday. I am sorry. I love you too much to make you mad, so I will never make you mad again. I made my Daddy mad and he hurt me. Now you won’t have to hurt me.
Iona
Just like her. So simple. So full of emotion.
Chay kissed her lips softly. Then he grabbed a huge burlap sack that rested in a corner of the room. He took the knife from her hand and placed into her coffin. Gently, Chay picked up the girl who was once his baby and his lover and placed her, with all the tenderness that a mother shows her child, into what would be her coffin.
* * *
The young man patted the ground with his shovel in the cities of the dead. Then he sat on top of the grave of his beloved, pulled the dagger out, and without hesitating, thrust it into his aching heart.
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