Blindness(101)

“I don’t know how long you’re going to go on believing that he meant any of that,” she half mumbles. This is the Jessie I expected—the one that would be on his side no matter what.

I’ve never been an aggressive girl, but something in me clicks when she speaks, and I push her off balance, knocking her to the ground.

“He said he would have chosen the shop, Jessie! He had a choice—me or the shop! And he chose that goddamned garage!” I yell at the top of my lungs, my jaw clenched, and my teeth tight together.

Jessie finally stands back to her feet and brushes the dirt from the back of her jeans, a faint laugh coming out by the end.

“What?” I shoot back, folding my arms and stomping my feet like a child—my version of a tantrum.

Jessie shakes her head and looks down. “Come with me,” she says, walking along the sidewalk to her car.

I follow along, my arms still folded the entire way. When I get to her car, I refuse to get in at first, but Jessie just sits in the car and honks, repeatedly, with the engine running, until I give in from embarrassment.

“That was really f*cking mean,” I say, looking out my window.

“Yeah, well…you’re being a child,” she says.

And I actually “hmmmph” in response.

I know where we’re going the moment we get on the highway, and I think seriously about flicking the lock and rolling out of the car. We’re going to the shop—and I never want to see that place again. It’s now my number two, right beneath Louisville.

“Jessie, you know I don’t want to go there. Please…just stop, turn around, and take me home,” I say, my throat starting to close up with panic, and the beating of my heart filling my stomach.

“It’s different now. You need to see it. I think…no, I know you’ll understand when you do,” she says, and I roll my eyes at her, pretending not to believe her, pretending not to care about Cody or his stupid dreams. But I do care—I care because I know what it means to have something material tied up with your best memories, and I hate that he’s lost it.

Nothing would have prepared me for what I see when we exit the highway, however. If I hadn’t memorized the way—every turn and street that led to Jake’s old garage—I never would have been able to find this corner. There’s a Dumpster filled with brick, wood, and glass. The ground is nearly leveled, chunks of concrete all that’s left along the land—the foundation barely a sketch of what stood there less than seven days ago.

“It’s…gone,” I breathe, my stomach sinking as we open our doors, and I get out to walk the property. “Oh…Jessie.”

She was right. I understand. And I’m heartbroken.

There’s a sign posted on the ground for the development firm, along with a phone number to call for details on the new plan. I look at Jessie, knowing she sees it, too.

“Yeah, I already called it. It’s just a recording advertising the new condos coming next year,” she says, kicking a chunk of concrete loose on the ground into the metal of the bin. I pick one up in my hand and throw it at the metal next, wanting to punish the debris left behind, I guess.

I keep walking to the remains that are piled, ready to be hauled away. It looks like scraps from a building site—nothing even recognizable. I lift myself up, so I can look into the bin, and I reach forward when I notice the green trim of one of the windows. It’s the one from the office, and seeing it fills my eyes with tears.

Without even realizing it, I begin pulling at it frantically, trying to dislodge it from the boards and shards that are cutting into the paint.

“Help me, Jessie! Help me get this out!” I say, desperate to see it, to see if it’s survived.

Jessie doesn’t question, she only stands next to me, propped up on a carton, and helps me pull, until we have the window on the ground in front of us. For some reason, seeing it whole sends a bolt of adrenaline through my body. I leap up again, looking for more remnants—things I can save.

We clear out dozens of bricks, and both of our hands are bleeding by the time we reach the bottom of the bin. But I’m glad we powered through, never quitting until we saw everything left inside. The neon needs some repair, but the name is whole—Jake’s the sign reads.

Jessie calls Gabe without even asking, and he joins us early with his truck. We get the pieces—two whole windows and the sign—into the back of his truck and take them to my storage room. We tuck them in the back, safe, and out of the way, and then move my few furnishings into the truck in their place.

By the time we have everything moved in, the only place open to eat is the deli, so we end up there again. I didn’t taste my soup earlier, and I can barely stomach it now, so I end up getting the rest to go and carry it up to my new apartment.

“You sure you’re okay staying here tonight, by yourself?” Jessie asks, lingering at my doorway.

“I’m good,” I say, holding on at the frame, and kicking my toe against her boot.

“She’s just upset you’re leaving and is gonna miss you, that’s all,” Gabe says, wrapping his arm around Jessie and pulling her in for a hug.

“Yeah, so what,” Jessie says, trying to keep up her tough persona.

“So…what are you going to do with those windows…and the sign?” she asks.