Sequel: Requiem of Revenge ›
When Three Becomes Two
Family Affairs
Billie’s PoV
Two days after the crying incident, I had firmly convinced myself that it was my mind playing tricks on me. I was so desperate to have Tre back that my subconscious was making me think he was.
We decided to stay in LA until Tre’s body was moved back to his hometown—Oakland, where we belonged. The days went by mechanically and without thinking. Every morning, after a subdued breakfast, Mike and I drove out to the hospital and sat with Tre’s body. Our families stayed in the same hotel, rarely coming out. The first time we went after they arrived, they came with us to the hospital. But after a few minutes, they left, disturbed by the body. Adie was always withdrawn and didn’t say much. Her eyes always were red, mirroring mine. She had told me that when she broke the news to Joey and Jakob, it was heartbreaking to see—and I believed her. Joey seemed determined not to look at the fact in the face, but always busied himself with taking care of his mom and younger brother. Jakob just cried all the time.
On the second night, just as with the first, I went to my family’s hotel room to say goodnight. After seeing my eldest son’s grim features and my wife’s tears, it was harder than ever to walk to Jakob’s room. I knocked on his door, and when his little voice said, “Come in.” I felt a pang of apprehension.
I slowly walked to the bed where my son lay in bed. I sat on it next to him with a grunt.
“Daddy, I have a question.”
“Yeah?”
“D’you think Tre went to heaven?”
The question caught me off guard. I didn’t come from a very religious family, and Jakob’s words surprised me. Nevertheless, I did my best to answer.
“Well, Jake…no one really knows. I think he did, though. Tre lived a good life, didn’t he? He was a nice person. He deserves to go to heaven, so…” my voice trailed off. It wasn’t just Jakob I was reassuring now, but also myself.
“Oh, okay. That’s good. ‘Cause I was having these dreams, and it’s been happening ever since Mom told me…every night, Daddy, Tre comes to me in my dreams. He always talks to me.”
“What does he say in them?”
“He says he misses you and Mike and Claudia and Lisea and Ramona and Frankito. He said he’s still here with us and that everything would be okay. He said, ‘I promise.’”
“…Good night, Jakob.”
“G’night, Daddy.”
I left, closed the door and leaned against it so I wouldn’t collapse from the weight of what I had heard. And without meaning to, I heard Jakob talking quietly—praying
.
“Dear God, I really really hope things get better. Mommy’s always so sad and Daddy is too. Please give me my old Mommy and Daddy back. I feel so sad about Tre. Daddy told me he’s up in heaven but I’m not so sure. Please, God, make Tre be okay, wherever he is. I miss him so much. Amen.”
It wasn’t until I got into the elevator that I dissolved into silent tears.
Two days after the crying incident, I had firmly convinced myself that it was my mind playing tricks on me. I was so desperate to have Tre back that my subconscious was making me think he was.
We decided to stay in LA until Tre’s body was moved back to his hometown—Oakland, where we belonged. The days went by mechanically and without thinking. Every morning, after a subdued breakfast, Mike and I drove out to the hospital and sat with Tre’s body. Our families stayed in the same hotel, rarely coming out. The first time we went after they arrived, they came with us to the hospital. But after a few minutes, they left, disturbed by the body. Adie was always withdrawn and didn’t say much. Her eyes always were red, mirroring mine. She had told me that when she broke the news to Joey and Jakob, it was heartbreaking to see—and I believed her. Joey seemed determined not to look at the fact in the face, but always busied himself with taking care of his mom and younger brother. Jakob just cried all the time.
On the second night, just as with the first, I went to my family’s hotel room to say goodnight. After seeing my eldest son’s grim features and my wife’s tears, it was harder than ever to walk to Jakob’s room. I knocked on his door, and when his little voice said, “Come in.” I felt a pang of apprehension.
I slowly walked to the bed where my son lay in bed. I sat on it next to him with a grunt.
“Daddy, I have a question.”
“Yeah?”
“D’you think Tre went to heaven?”
The question caught me off guard. I didn’t come from a very religious family, and Jakob’s words surprised me. Nevertheless, I did my best to answer.
“Well, Jake…no one really knows. I think he did, though. Tre lived a good life, didn’t he? He was a nice person. He deserves to go to heaven, so…” my voice trailed off. It wasn’t just Jakob I was reassuring now, but also myself.
“Oh, okay. That’s good. ‘Cause I was having these dreams, and it’s been happening ever since Mom told me…every night, Daddy, Tre comes to me in my dreams. He always talks to me.”
“What does he say in them?”
“He says he misses you and Mike and Claudia and Lisea and Ramona and Frankito. He said he’s still here with us and that everything would be okay. He said, ‘I promise.’”
“…Good night, Jakob.”
“G’night, Daddy.”
I left, closed the door and leaned against it so I wouldn’t collapse from the weight of what I had heard. And without meaning to, I heard Jakob talking quietly—praying
.
“Dear God, I really really hope things get better. Mommy’s always so sad and Daddy is too. Please give me my old Mommy and Daddy back. I feel so sad about Tre. Daddy told me he’s up in heaven but I’m not so sure. Please, God, make Tre be okay, wherever he is. I miss him so much. Amen.”
It wasn’t until I got into the elevator that I dissolved into silent tears.