I moped around the apartment for the rest of the weekend, on a subsistence diet of pain killers, beer, and chicken noodle soup. Were you aware that every single civilization in the world has some form of chicken noodle soup, and that every one of them is guaranteed by mothers to cure every disease known to man, up to and including cancer? It's true. It wasn't working on bruising, so I wasn't moving around much.
I did hear from my father Sunday night. Mr. Colosimo called him at the house and demanded to speak to me, and when I wasn't made available, threatened me, Dad, Mom, our family, our relatives, and Daisy the Dog with every manner of threat possible. Dad responded in kind, which Mom was happy to tell me had been very childish. I didn't think a Sunday afternoon drive to see Jeana would be very helpful. Jeana didn't call.
Monday morning I woke up early. I had classes and needed some time to prepare myself for school. I wrapped some Saran Wrap around my foot and managed a quick shower. I was able to replace the bandage on my face with a much smaller one, changed the Band-Aids on my ass, and somehow changed the bandage on my foot with a smaller one I could put a shoe over. I was still limping badly, but I could get around. My face still looked hideous, with the bruising now beginning to enter the really ugly green and yellow stage. Luckily, the split lip was mostly healed up. I got quite a few stares from my classmates.
By mid-week I still hadn't heard from Jeana. I had tried driving by the house a couple of times, but they must have had her under lock and key. Her mother's car was there, and the one time I parked and walked towards the house, I heard them arguing inside. I skipped out. Dad called me Wednesday afternoon to tell me a large box had arrived for me at the house. I went over and found it contained the clothing and shoes I had left behind at Jeana's during my hasty departure. Also in the box was a forceful note in her father's handwriting telling me to never show my face again around their house. A small envelope was the saddest item, since it contained the locket, tennis bracelet, and an ankle bracelet I had given Jeana, along with my class ring. There was no note from her. I declined the offer of dinner and took the box home with me.
I waited a day, just staring at the box, and at the envelope, and then called Ray. He had been dating Marianne Monroe for a few months, and Marianne was a friend of Jeana's. Ray and Marianne had broken up, but he still had her number. I called her and invited her out to lunch on Friday. We met at a place over in Towsontown Mall.
"Wow! Jeana's old man really worked you over, didn't he?", was the first thing she said to me.
"You heard about that, huh?"
She nodded and grinned. "Jeana called me the next day and told me what happened. You look pretty gross."
"Thanks. I actually look better now. Last weekend I looked grotesque."
We talked about my injuries for a moment, and then I asked, "How's Jeana doing? I've tried calling, but they're screening their phone calls, and whenever I've tried driving by, one of her parents is around. What's she said to you?"
Marianne rolled her eyes. "It's not good, Carl. I think she's been grounded for the rest of her natural life. They took away her car keys and one of her parents is staying at home with her until school starts. They've even been talking about sending her to a girl's only Catholic boarding school."
"Holy shit!"
"Yeah! You've got about as much chance of seeing her as you do of getting into a convent.", she said.
I shook my head. "Do you think you could get in to see her?", I asked.
Marianne's eyes popped open at that. "Hey, Carl, don't get me into this!"
"Marianne, you're not going to get into it. You're just going to see her. That's all."
"No way am I going over there while it's like this!"
"So, how did you hear about all this?", I asked.
"Jeana called me on Sunday."
"I thought you said she was in solitary?"
"Close. I guess the warden must have relented. I know her Mom was nearby, because she was whispering part of the time.", she admitted.
"Great! You can go over to her house and carry a letter for me."
Marianne started waving her hands at me. "No way! No way!"
"Marianne, get real. They're not going to strip search you. You just get her alone and slip her the letter. It'll be easy!" It took me several minutes to convince her to go along with me. I handed her the envelope and she put it in her purse. Business done, we spent the rest of the afternoon chatting about her upcoming senior year over at Loch Raven and my college plans.
It was a short letter, simple and to the point. Packed in with the letter was the jewelry she had returned to me. I kept my class ring.
Dear Jeana,
I am very sorry about what happened the other night. I hope you didn't get in a lot of trouble, but I know that's just wishful thinking. If you can get a chance to call me or write, I'd like to hear from you, but I know that's probably going to be very difficult.
I'm sending back the jewelry to you. That was a gift from me to you, and showed the love I have for you. I'll never love another girl like I love you, and I'll never be able to look at it without feeling that loss. If you don't want to wear it, I'll understand. Maybe you can put it in the back of your jewelry box, so that someday you'll look at it and smile and remember what we once had. It was special.
You are special, too. I'll be going away in a few weeks, and we'll both be moving on with our lives, but I'll always treasure the time we had. If you can get a chance to call me or write, I'd appreciate it. Until that time, though, always know how much I love you.
Love,
Carling
She never called or wrote. I checked with Marianne, and she reported she had given Jeana the note, and Jeana had read it, but she never called or wrote.
Book Three: Rensselaer
Chapter 23: Freshman Year
I tried reaching Jeana for the rest of the summer. I did a few drive-bys, and called every girl I knew who knew Jeana. The response was the same. They could get in to see her, but Jeana was on lockdown, and probably going to parochial school, a private girl's parochial school, in the fall. She was depressed, but otherwise okay. Whenever one of the girls brought my name up, Jeana would sigh and or cry, but she didn't ask to see me or send me a message. It was over in more ways than one, I guessed, but it was very depressing.
Tusker came over one afternoon. For the last year he had known about my apartment, but he kept it quiet. "I heard you and Jeana are broken up. Her old man do that to your face?"
"Mom joined in, too, but yeah, her dad tagged me pretty good." I gave him a condensed version of what had happened, though I left out some of the graphic details. "I'm worried about her. I can't see her or talk to her, and nobody knows anything.", I finished.
He nodded silently, and then went to my refrigerator and grabbed a couple of beers. "You ever think that maybe this wasn't an accident? That maybe Jeana had this planned out?"