The One (70 page)

Now,
all anyone can extract from her are monosyllabic answers, and that
’
s a step up from her complete silence.
Marina is very worried, she told me she spends her days unmoving, staring into
space, and she barely drinks, her meals remain untouched, and her PhD is all
but forgotten. When I get home in the evenings and find her in our room, she
just presses herself against me, and with urgency undresses me, sometimes
without even saying a word. Only when I
’
m inside her she talks and with pleading
eyes, boring into mine asks me to go deeper, harder, as if brutal strokes could
awaken her.

It
doesn
’
t
work. So on the eve of dawn, or death of the night, I make love to her,
patiently, tenderly, telling her how much I love her, and how she will survive
this, how we will both survive, how her despondency will fade with time, how
she just need to allow herself to feel the pain and not keep it in. As I kiss
her body, I tell her I will always be there for her, that forgiveness will save
us, that we will have another child. She is still my everything, and we will
get through this, if only she allows me to help her.

If
grief sex is the way to do it, so be it. I want my wife back. I need her back,
because as each day passes by, I feel myself crumbling more and more, and I don
’
t know how much longer I can hold it
together for the both of us.

Exactly
31 days after Luca
’
s
death, I walk into our room and as she is throwing clothes into one her Vuitton
case, she announces she is leaving.

((~~!~~))

Vi

My son is dead. My miracle baby, the very
same one I put myself through hell to have.

Luca
is dead and it
’
s
my entire fault.

For
the first time Ethan has finally said out loud what I have known for 10 days now,
ever since I woke up in the middle of the night and found my son, against me,
not breathing.

I
killed him.

((~~!~~))

We are in the Blue Mountains. It
’
s my idea. Ethan wanted to take us to the Gold
Coast Condo for a few days, I told him I would prefer the calmness of the
mountains instead of the noises of excited tourists visiting the gambling city
for the first time. He caved, when I pleaded this was the holiday all 3 of us
needed after the past few weeks that had been so hard for him with the state
budget being finally adopted in extremis after long and exhausting
negotiations.

We
needed this time away from the city.

We
are all set to go, it
’
s
June 8
^th
, 2005, and it
’
s
decided, the chauffeur is driving Marina, Luca and I to the mountains. Ethan
will join us tomorrow or the next day. We are supposed to stay for nine days in
the country house. Marina will take care of our meals and Luca when we are
asleep or out. The first two days are wonderful; the silence encompasses me,
and brings me peace.

On
the 3
^rd
day Ethan arrives early in the morning, actually waking me
up, when he sneaks into the bed at 4:30 a.m., and says against my back,
”
Hey baby,
”
I am happy to know he
’
s made it and I press my body against his
as he kisses my shoulder blade, spooning me, our legs tangling together. Hours
later, we wake up, and make love. It is slow, gentle, and yet passionate. We
are happy.

Day
3,4 and 5 are blissful. We take long walks with our son. We go to the 3 Sisters
where Luca looks at everything with wonder and points at anything he wants to
take a closer look at, including the funicular cables when we ride in it. We
have picnics for lunch and spend our evenings reading and playing with our son,
amazed his babbling has started to turn into words so early, he
’
s already been calling me
mami
and Ethan
‘
dadi
’
for a few months now, he has words for
his
favorite
toys, and it seems he also likes to
invent new words of his own. Luca is nearly 10 months old, but most people
believe he
’
s
over 16 months, he so responsive and vivacious. And, there is that now infamous
look he gives us when neither Ethan nor I seem to understand quickly enough
what he means. And then, there is his constant smile, never far away, as if
Luca realized early on he was a miracle, and decided to be a joyful baby, just
because he was given the chance to just be.

Yes,
these days were happy days.

On
day 5, at 7:15 p.m., Ethan receives the call that will take him away from us
for a few hours. He needs to drive back to Sydney for an emergency meeting of
his cabinet, something about the budget has come up, but he swears, he will
drive back tonight, even if it
’
s
after midnight, he simply won
’
t
spend any more time than necessary away from us. It
’
s only a 90 minutes
’
drive; he will be back
tonight, he promises.

I
tell him not to worry, as long as he is coming back, it
’
s only a few hours, I
’
ll bath and feed Luca, will read to him
and then go to bed, and he can wake me when he gets back. I joke that if he
doesn
’
t
make it back too late, he might even get some dessert.

He
kisses me deeply, thanking me for being so understanding after he already
promised nothing would interrupt our holiday this time, as all previous had
been. He takes his son in his arms and talks to him, explaining daddy has to go
for a little while but he will come back and kiss him goodnight, in the
meantime Luca can have a little advance, and he kisses him, tickling him until
our son openly laughs at his father.

He
hands me Luca back, get his mobile phone and a folder, and we both follow him
outside to the car, where he tousle both of our hair and gives us both light
kisses before driving off.

I
go back in, and tell Marina it
’
s
just going to be me tonight, so she can enjoy her evening, I
’
ll munch on some snack for dinner and will
spend the evening with Luca.

I
do just that; have a light dinner while my son is playing in his brightly
coloured playpen, which is more like a cubby house with its door and windows. I
hear him making his usual joyous noises, and my heart swells at how lucky we
are to have such a lively baby.

Once
I finish eating, I play with him for a few minutes, and notice he is getting
tired, so I lift him and carry him to our bedroom. I talk to him and tell him
we are having a quick bath then it
’
s
dinner time for him and then bedtime for both of us as I am feeling tired too.
He yawns and smiles as if he understands perfectly what I am saying.

The
nightly tasks are accomplished quickly but when I put Luca in his crib and kiss
him goodnight, he starts to cry. Furiously.

I
let him do it for five minutes, hoping it will pass and he
’
ll fall asleep, but my son is determined.
He won
’
t
stop. I cave, and lift him out of the crib.

The
minute Luca is in my arms, the crying stops as suddenly as it started, and my
son
’
s
right hand lands on my face tapping my noise while his features break into a
broad smile and he starts to make playing sounds.

I
can
’
t
help but smile back at him while I say sternly,
“
Lu, little devil
…
Always smiling to get what you want
…
I bet you got this from E
…”

I
settle on the middle of the king bed, putting my son on my chest.

I
grab a book and give him his pacifier and we are settled on the bed. I
’
m reading to him while he watches me.
Soon, his eyes are closed and I feel myself drifting to sleep too, so I lift
him to take him back into his crib. The crying erupts immediately as I lay him
down. I try to soothe him by whispering against his ear, I caress his tummy
hoping the crying will transform into a laugh and then he
’
ll settle down, I try to give him back his
dummy which he refuses, turning his head and crying even louder. I can
’
t bear it.

I
hum a lullaby, watching him and caressing him. Nothing works until I take him
back into my arms.

As
I sing to him, he clings to me and his body refuses to settle down, and I
think:
I
’
m
not going this win this round
…

It
seems Luca perceives my defeat when I turn around, taking us both back to my
bed and I look at him; my son is shyly smiling at me while I
’
m shaking my head in disbelief. He is his
father
’
s
son. A capricious little devil that will use underhanded means to get his way.
He knows I can
’
t
resist his tears.

I
grab the book and start reading aloud again, until my own voice lulls us both
to sleep.

I
fall asleep with my son pressed against my heart.

((~~!~~))

This must be what it felt like to be
buried alive
, she thinks. She can't move and each
shallow gasp burns her lungs.
How could we possibly survive this...

She
wants to tune out everything that was said and done and start over. Rewind
those last few hours of her life, burn them to ash, and throw them to the wind
as though they never existed. 

Her
son would be alive, if she could do just that.

Instead,
every nerve ending on her body seemed deaden. There is no feeling. But she
thanks God for those small favors, because when her body begins to function
again...when the nerves can feel...she will fall apart...piece by piece, a
despondent jigsaw puzzle on the tiles of her shower room. But hopefully, not
until after the police has left their country house.

Actually,
it takes eleven days before it happens.

When
she asked Ethan to fuck her, she uses the word because it
i
s brutal, and she thinks only brutality
will awaken her senses. Lily, Kevin and Deric have been there, at the house,
for days, being caring, attentive, yet she still was numb and felt nothing; her
last hope resides in her husband. She knows Ethan is also on the brink of a
mental collapse, and needs her. He looks so lost when he thinks no one is
watching him, but she knows. Unfortunately, she can
’
t offer words of comfort, she can
’
t speak; that lump in her throat has taken
up residence. But the only thing she can offer him is her body, this is the
only thing she can do for him. And, there is something more. A need to feel
…
something, anything. A need to feel human.

Yes,
if she could feel him inside of her, then maybe
…