I can see the wall is covered in faded movie and concert posters even before I come up close. I’m not sure what I was hoping for, but it would’ve been unrealistic to hope that her mural would still be visible. But other than that, nothing about this place has changed. The basketball court lines are almost invisible after decades of sun and rain. The hoop has lost its original red tint but still stands tall and strong.
I walk up to the wall, eyes scanning the concert posters peeling at the corners, the dates barely readable. My eyes close and there she is. Dancing in front of me, arms and body and legs moving to the music inside her head as she arranges the paint swatches on her work of art.
I need to see it; I need to know what she was working on all those hours. I need to know what I’d inspired in her.
I start ripping at the posters, peeling them away from the wall, layer by layer, careful not to disturb what lies beneath. The adrenaline starts to course through my body as I feel myself getting closer and closer. I start to tear at the sheets of colored paper, tossing them on the ground, not caring when the wind kicks up and carries them away.
Yes!
There it is! I spot the first corner of a paint swatch, and I feel myself hurtled into the past. I’m careful again, pulling the last layer away, slowly exposing her work inch by inch by inch until there’s nothing left covering it.
I take a deep breath and I stand back.
And see it for the very first time.
It’s hard to take it all in at once, it’s so big, but it’s beautiful. Breathtaking.
It’s unfinished, but there’s no doubt what it’s was meant to be.
And there’s no doubt that it came from her.
The background stretches outward in an array of vibrant colors that surround the central image; one hand outstretched to another.
Me and her. Hers and mine.
I’m just not sure who is the one offering their hand and who is the one taking it.
In my mind, I always thought it was me.
All this time.
Even now.
I thought I was the one meant to be saving her.
But she had it right all along, we were meant to save each other.
Even by not telling me about what had happened with her attack, and then subsequently her shame about doing what she needed to survive, she wasn’t protecting herself. She was protecting me.
All this time, I thought I was the one protecting her. I thought fighting over her was the same thing as fighting for her.
I was wrong.
Fuck. I’ve been so wrong!!
I stare at the unfinished mural, hidden under layers and layers of history.
Unfinished. Just like us.
No. We need to continue what we started. And something tells me, that starts with her finishing this mural.
I stand back, taking a mental picture with my mind.
Malynda, I will help you finish.
If it’s the last thing I ever do for you.
To remind her who she was, and how the things that have happened don’t change that, don’t change who it is she can be now.
That she was put on this earth to make art like this.
Him
“Can you drive any faster, man?”
The Uber driver just shrugs, but I feel the car lurch forward and knock me back into my seat.
“What’s the hurry?” he asks over his shoulder.
“I need to see a girl. About something. Something long overdue.”
“Ah. Well, we’re almost there. You sure you know what you’re going to say?”
“Yes. I just don’t know how she’s going to respond.”
The youth center looms ahead and I point to it. “Over there! Just pull over!”
I jump out even before he’s come to a complete stop.
Turning almost immediately back into traffic he yells, “Good luck, man!” out the rolled-down window, and merges into the throng of cars.
I spin around to face the building, eyeing the signs and banners announcing today as the grand opening. I don’t have time to take in the finished construction before she comes walking around the corner.
“Malynda!” Her name comes spilling out from deep in my gut and onto my lips.
She instantly stops in her tracks, her hands full with a box of decorations, causing a chain reaction of people almost banging into her and each other. Someone curses as he jumps to the side to avoid her.
She doesn’t say anything for a moment.
I don’t say anything for a moment longer.
I thought I knew what I wanted to say. But seeing her in front of me right now makes all the declarations, all the revelations, all the promises seem unworthy of what I feel. Unworthy of her.
“I didn’t know if you were going to come today,” she finally says. And I nod. I can see why she might’ve thought that.
“I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch, I was out of town. But I’m here now,” I say, as if I need to convince her I’m real. Just as I had needed to convince myself over and over that she was real in those first few days she came back into my life. It was so much easier to think that she’s been just an aberration. Memories are much easier to deal with than reality.
But now, we are both real and both here. Just where we’re meant to be.
“Do they know?” she asks, her eyes giving nothing away. I feel more nervous than I ever have in my life. My fingers feel clammy and I shove them into my pockets to stop from fidgeting.
“Jade and Kaine?” I ask. She nods in reply. “Yes. They’re the ones who told me what time you’d be here,” I say before I think that that might come across as a betrayal to her.
“Where did you go?”
“Maine.” My answer makes her eyebrows shoot up, but she doesn’t respond.
I take a step closer, the letters slowly starting to form into words and sentences again in my head. And then I speak, and say all the things I should’ve said a long time ago.
“Malynda. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. The things I said, the things I did. I was wrong.