Scar Girl (The Scar Boys #2)(52)
But I couldn’t. Harry’s hand was holding me firm to the earth. Firm to the floor of his basement.
When I looked at him, Harry’s eyes were floating in a sea of saltwater, and they were filled with worry and dread. Whether that was for Johnny, me, or all three of us, I didn’t know. But Harry’s eyes were real, they were something for me to hold on to. I grabbed hold and wouldn’t let go.
RICHIE MCGILL
Harry’s mom was on the ground, too. I didn’t see her go down, but there she was, on the floor, crying like the rest of us. After everything that had happened to Harry, Mrs. J. must’ve worried about him doing something like this. Johnny had to be a knife in her fucking heart.
The whole scene was starting to freak me out big-time. I needed to do something.
HARBINGER JONES
Richie got up from behind the drums, walked over, and put a hand on my back. When I looked up, his face was streaked with tears and his cheeks were flush. He mouthed, “Are you okay? Should I go?” I nodded and silently thanked the God I didn’t believe in for a friend like Richie McGill.
CHEYENNE BELLE
I buried my face in Harry’s chest and screamed and cried. He just kept saying he was sorry and that it was going to be okay, over and over and over again. It was a lie, and we both knew it. Nothing was going to be okay, ever again.
RICHIE MCGILL
I helped Harry’s mom up off the floor, partly to help her out of the room so Harry and Chey could have some space, and partly to get the fuck out of there myself. I felt like I was gonna puke or explode or something if I stayed in that basement one more minute.
Mrs. J. walked me to the entryway by the front door and gave me a long hug. She sniffled a few times but was starting to pull her shit together.
“Do you want to stay? Do you want me to call your father?”
“No, I’ll be okay.” I started to leave but then turned around. “Wait, do you want me to stay with you for a bit?”
She paused for a minute and then kind of hung her head and nodded. I swear to God she looked like a little kid.
I took her arm and led Mrs. J. to the kitchen. She made us both tea, we talked about Johnny, and we waited for Harry and Chey to come upstairs. We waited a long time.
CHEYENNE BELLE
I don’t know how long Harry and I were on the floor, but when I looked up, Richie and Mrs. Jones were gone. I stayed there and cried until I felt like there must’ve been blood pouring out of my eyes. That was the last thing I remembered, thinking that there was blood pouring out of my eyes.
HARBINGER JONES
I held Chey until she fell asleep.
I stroked her hair while I thought about Johnny. I kept remembering the first day he and I met, and how he’d saved me from a bully. He’d swooped in and saved me like he was Superman. But he did more than save me from a bully.
When I met Johnny, I was a nothing, a nobody. No, wait, strike that. I was something worse. I was a pariah. At least a nobody can fade into the background. I couldn’t do that because people couldn’t help but notice me. Once Johnny and I found each other, all that changed.
In every way imaginable, Johnny McKenna saved my life.
But I couldn’t save him.
I didn’t even try.
It turns out I’m a nothing after all.
I cried until I fell asleep, too.
Chey and I stayed there like that, on the floor, in each other’s arms. We were together, but we were broken, and we were, each of us, utterly and completely alone.
PART TEN,
MARCH 1987
I don’t think Jimi committed suicide in the conventional way. He just decided to exit when he wanted to.
—Eric Burdon, on Jimi Hendrix
What do you miss most about Johnny McKenna?
HARBINGER JONES
Back when we were in middle school, we used to go running together. When we couldn’t go any farther, we would flop down on some neighbor’s lawn and catch our breath. Then we would just talk and laugh. We laughed a lot.
That’s what I miss, his friendship.
RICHIE MCGILL
I don’t know, I miss a lot of things. Mostly I miss how the guy lit up a room, or at least the way he did before he lost his leg. You can take that however you want, but the dude was a force of nature. You kind of felt proud that he’d picked you as a friend.
CHEYENNE BELLE
Everything.
HARBINGER JONES
Funeral homes are weird places. They’re little factories for honoring the dead. Johnny’s service was held at a place near our old high school; it was a long, low white house that, on the outside, looked inviting. One of the ways death tricks you, I suppose.
The wake was a scene. I mean, Johnny was insanely popular all throughout school, kind of like Ferris Bueller. When we went on the road and then when he lost his leg, the legend of Johnny McKenna only grew.
When I first walked into the room and saw the open casket at the far end, my stomach turned. The rest of the room seemed to blur at the edges, the whole thing collapsing into a kind of wormhole that led straight to the coffin. It took me a minute to get my bearings.