My Heart is Yours (6 page)

***

N
o one had mentioned
Sam’s seventeenth birthday again. It was now two months into her
and Jason’s senior year.

One brisk night in November Sam was sitting on her
porch reading, a blanket draped over her shoulders. She noticed
Jason asleep on a bench in the park across from her house. This
wasn’t unusual. But Sam couldn’t stand to see him out there and
wanted to help him whenever she could. Jason’s dad was a drunk and
was always beating him up and kicking him out of his house. She
stood up, the blanket falling off of her shoulders.

Jason felt a hand on his shoulder and someone gently
shaking him. “Jason?” It was Sam.

He sat up. “Sam? What are you doing here?” She sat
down next to him. “I saw you from my porch. You can’t sleep out
here.”

“Sam, you don’t have a jacket on.” He said. “You
must be freezing. Here.” He took off his jacket and draped it over
her shoulders.

“Thanks.” She smiled and shook her head. “Jason, why
didn’t you just come to our house?”

“The lights were off. I didn’t wanna wake anyone
up.” He looked down at his knees.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Besides, it’s freezing
tonight. You can’t sleep outside.” She stood up. “Come on.” She
nodded toward their house.

He stood up and followed Sam.

Sam closed her front door behind her and handed
Jason his jean jacket. “Come on.”

“What?” He said, about to lie down on the couch.

“It’s just as bad here as it is outside.” She said,
grabbing his hand.

“Where are we going?” He asked, his voice reaching a
new octave.

“My room.”

“Won’t . . . won’t Craig be upset if I sleep in your
room?” He asked as Sam got blankets and pillows out from the
hallway closet.

“No. He’ll be fine. It’s not like we’re sleeping in
the same bed, Jason.” She took his hand again and felt herself
blushing. She looked at Jason and saw that he was blushing too.

She closed her door and laid the blankets and
pillows next to her bed.

“It’s not a real bed or anything.” She said,
climbing into her own bed. “But it’s better than a park bench.”

Jason smiled. “It’s great, Sam. Thanks so much.” He
sat down on his makeshift bed.

“No problem.” She said, pulling her dark blue sheets
over her. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” Jason said, pulling the sheets on his
makeshift bed over him.

Jason woke up later that night when he heard Sam
moving around in her sleep. Suddenly, she sat up, with tears
streaming down her face.

“Sam?” Jason asked, his eyebrows pulled close
together, a small wrinkle in his forehead.

“Oh, Jason, you scared me.” She said, wiping away
the tears that had just fallen.

She got out of bed and got a sweater out of her
dresser drawer.

“Sam, are you okay?”

“Yeah, Jason I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not. You’re crying.”

She smiled through her tears, and went to sit down
next to him.

He pushed a strand of hair out of her face. “What’s
wrong?”

“Nothing.” She offered a watery smile.

“Sam.”

“It’s just this stupid nightmare I’ve been having
for years. Forget it, it’s dumb.” She moved to get up.

Jason gently grabbed her wrist and pulled her back
down. “It’s not dumb.”

“How do you know?” She asked with a humorless
laugh.

“You’re crying. It can’t be dumb if you’re crying
about it.”

She smiled at him, but tears were still pouring down
her face. Jason didn’t know what he should do. He’d never seen Sam
cry before. Except for at her parents funeral. But even then, she
hadn’t been crying the way she was now. He didn’t know what to do
now. Should he say something? What? Should he pull her close to him
and hold her in his arms?

“What’s your nightmare about?” He asked. “You don’t
have to tell me.” He added.

“No, I want to tell you. I can tell you anything.”
She moved closer to him and Jason slid his hand in hers.

“You know about my biological parents, right?” Sam
asked.

Jason didn’t like to think about it. All he knew was
that they used to beat Sam. “What about them?”

“Do you know what happened the night I was taken to
the orphanage?”

“No.” He said, not sure that he wanted to know.

“Well, that’s what I dream about, or part of what I
dream about. My parent’s car crash and funeral. But . . . it’s
different.”

“Sam?” Jason said, not able to hold back the
question. “What did happen the night you were taken to the
orphanage?”

“That’s how my dream starts out.” She said. “I’m
five and a half lying in my bed around three in the morning, when
my mother comes in and tells me to climb out the window. I
listened, ‘cuz, well I knew what would happen if I didn’t.”

Jason closed his eyes, trying to get the image of a
five year old Sam being beaten by one of her parents out of his
head.

“I asked her what was going on, and she said my
father was ‘more drunk than usual’ and he had a gun. He wanted to
kill us. She said the only reason she took me was because as a
single parent she might be able to get some money from the
government. Otherwise, she’d just let him kill me. She didn’t
notice that he’d stolen a car and was catching up to us. The car
stalled, moved forward a little, and then stopped. I heard sirens,
but the police didn’t get there in time. My father pulled up next
to us and shot my mother in the head. I climbed out of the car
window, watched her body carried off and watched him get arrested.
Then a police officer picked me up, brought me to the station and I
waited there until someone from the orphanage came to get me.”

Jason could hardly believe what he had just heard.
He knew that Sam’s biological mother was dead, and that her father
was in jail, but he’d never known the two events were
connected.

“And then I see my mom and dad when they came to
adopt me, but my biological parents are standing in the background,
watching everything.”

“Then my dream goes to when my mom made me the
quilt, the white one with the flowers. But for a second her eyes
change to the same color as my biological father’s—black. And in
the background I see my parent’s car crash into the drunk
driver.”

“After that, I’m sitting in between John and Matt at
my Mom and Dad’s funeral. I look up and see my biological parents
standing next to my parents coffins. My ‘mother’ is wearing a black
dress and my ‘father’ is wearing a black suit, shirt and tie. And
he’s holding a gun and shoots my biological mother in the head
again, and blood splatters all over mom and dad’s coffins. I’m
suddenly up there looking into the coffins and my parents’ faces
change to my biological parents. Dad’s face is my biological
father’s, mom’s face is my biological mother’s. Then they open
their eyes, glaring up at me.”

“Then it’s back to normal. And beside my mom’s
coffin is my biological mother, besides my dad’s is my biological
father. They both take out a gun. My biological mother points it
into mom’s face. My biological father points it into dad’s face.
Then, at the same time they pull the trigger. And I wake up.”

By this time there were a flood of tears pouring out
of Sam’s eyes, and Jason had wrapped his arms around her, holding
her close and stroking her hair.

“It’s okay,” he said, trying to comfort her and not
knowing what else to say. “Shhh . . . it was only a dream.”

“I know.” She stuttered and drew in a long,
quivering breath. “But I keep having the same dream over and
over.”

“Every night?” Jason asked, rubbing her back.

“No. But three or four times a week. And it just
seems so real and I hate thinking about my biological parents.” She
said this all in one rush of breath.

“I know.” Jason nodded, and held her chin between
two fingers. He wanted her to take a real breath but she
continued.