Read Online Before There Were Angels by Sarah Mathews - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Sarah Mathews
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be done.
Belle went straight to his body and cradled his shoulders and his head on her knees. I could see that she fervently wanted to sob but the force of the shock was holding her back.
Stevie stood there, the two iPads still on the floor, the Christmas tree on the steps outside.
I pulled out my cell phone and called 911. Ambulance. Police.
“What condition is he in?” the voice asked after eliciting the basic information.
“He looks like he’s dead but send an ambulance anyway.”
It was impossible to believe he was dead, Zack of all people. Our minds and our hearts were fighting; our hearts were fighting for him to be alive despite all the evidence lying before us.
The police and the ambulance were both with us within five minutes.
The ambulance crew went straight over to Zack’s body and eased Belle away, running tests for which there could be only one outcome. They brought in a stretcher and strapped Zack to it, removing him to the ambulance with resolute precision after one of them had carefully brought the Christmas tree inside with a shake of his head, either for Zack’s chances or in the face of the tragic symbolism, or both.
Another ambulance attendant immediately addressed himself to Belle, examining her as she resisted.
“I want to go with him in the ambulance,” she said.
“No question,” he replied.
For a second Belle assumed that he was saying that there was no question of her going with him, whereas what he had meant was the opposite, so there was a frantic confusion.
“Come on, Ma’am,” he whispered to her. “The ambulance is leaving. You can ride in the back with him.”
This time Stevie let me hug him. He folded into me, sobbing, “Why?”
“I don’t know, Stevie. I don’t know why.”
“How could he do it? Why did he do it?”
“He didn’t,” I assured him firmly. “Zack did not do this.”
He looked up at me, startled but recognizing the truth in my words. “Who did it?”
“I don’t know. I only know that Zack didn’t. He wouldn’t. He never would have. He loved you far too much, your mom too.”
A policewoman wanted to lead Stevie off while they questioned me but Stevie wanted to stay with me.
“Let him hear what I have to say,” I said. “It will be horrible for him either way but he wants to be with me.”
The cop wanting to interview me demurred and we shuffled into the sitting room where George came to join us, his head on his paws in front of us.
“Can you tell me what happened?” the cop asked.
“I really don’t know,” I said. “We were doing Black Friday at Target, Belle, Stevie and I. Zack wanted to stay behind -“
“Do you think he was planning this?” the cop asked quickly.
“No. I don’t think he ever planned this.”
“When did you get back?”
“About half an hour ago.”
We went through all the details. It was not the slightest consolation that we had a watertight alibi, all three of us, because that wasn’t the point anyway. The question hanging there, so to speak, was whether Zack had killed himself or whether he had been murdered.
“Your wife left her previous husband last year?” That was a weighted question leading down a whole avenue of assumptions. “Did Zack show any signs of depression?”
“No, never.”
He looked at Stevie who watched him dumbly.
“Did Zack ever seem sad about leaving his father and coming to live in San Francisco without him?” the cop asked Stevie gently.
Stevie shook his head.
“I never saw the slightest signs of depression,” I said. “Depression was about the last thing anyone would have associated with Zack.”
“At school, was Zack ever bullied?”
The idea was so ludicrous that I actually laughed abruptly and Stevie laughed too.
“Zack wasn’t the kind of kid who was ever going to be bullied. He might have bullied others, Stevie can probably answer that one, but I would say it would have been impossible to bully Zack.”
“Stevie … ”
Stevie teared up.
Belle went straight to his body and cradled his shoulders and his head on her knees. I could see that she fervently wanted to sob but the force of the shock was holding her back.
Stevie stood there, the two iPads still on the floor, the Christmas tree on the steps outside.
I pulled out my cell phone and called 911. Ambulance. Police.
“What condition is he in?” the voice asked after eliciting the basic information.
“He looks like he’s dead but send an ambulance anyway.”
It was impossible to believe he was dead, Zack of all people. Our minds and our hearts were fighting; our hearts were fighting for him to be alive despite all the evidence lying before us.
The police and the ambulance were both with us within five minutes.
The ambulance crew went straight over to Zack’s body and eased Belle away, running tests for which there could be only one outcome. They brought in a stretcher and strapped Zack to it, removing him to the ambulance with resolute precision after one of them had carefully brought the Christmas tree inside with a shake of his head, either for Zack’s chances or in the face of the tragic symbolism, or both.
Another ambulance attendant immediately addressed himself to Belle, examining her as she resisted.
“I want to go with him in the ambulance,” she said.
“No question,” he replied.
For a second Belle assumed that he was saying that there was no question of her going with him, whereas what he had meant was the opposite, so there was a frantic confusion.
“Come on, Ma’am,” he whispered to her. “The ambulance is leaving. You can ride in the back with him.”
This time Stevie let me hug him. He folded into me, sobbing, “Why?”
“I don’t know, Stevie. I don’t know why.”
“How could he do it? Why did he do it?”
“He didn’t,” I assured him firmly. “Zack did not do this.”
He looked up at me, startled but recognizing the truth in my words. “Who did it?”
“I don’t know. I only know that Zack didn’t. He wouldn’t. He never would have. He loved you far too much, your mom too.”
A policewoman wanted to lead Stevie off while they questioned me but Stevie wanted to stay with me.
“Let him hear what I have to say,” I said. “It will be horrible for him either way but he wants to be with me.”
The cop wanting to interview me demurred and we shuffled into the sitting room where George came to join us, his head on his paws in front of us.
“Can you tell me what happened?” the cop asked.
“I really don’t know,” I said. “We were doing Black Friday at Target, Belle, Stevie and I. Zack wanted to stay behind -“
“Do you think he was planning this?” the cop asked quickly.
“No. I don’t think he ever planned this.”
“When did you get back?”
“About half an hour ago.”
We went through all the details. It was not the slightest consolation that we had a watertight alibi, all three of us, because that wasn’t the point anyway. The question hanging there, so to speak, was whether Zack had killed himself or whether he had been murdered.
“Your wife left her previous husband last year?” That was a weighted question leading down a whole avenue of assumptions. “Did Zack show any signs of depression?”
“No, never.”
He looked at Stevie who watched him dumbly.
“Did Zack ever seem sad about leaving his father and coming to live in San Francisco without him?” the cop asked Stevie gently.
Stevie shook his head.
“I never saw the slightest signs of depression,” I said. “Depression was about the last thing anyone would have associated with Zack.”
“At school, was Zack ever bullied?”
The idea was so ludicrous that I actually laughed abruptly and Stevie laughed too.
“Zack wasn’t the kind of kid who was ever going to be bullied. He might have bullied others, Stevie can probably answer that one, but I would say it would have been impossible to bully Zack.”
“Stevie … ”
Stevie teared up.
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