Chapter 11
That evening when I parked my car in front of the house and started across the yard, I noticed an extra car in the driveway, the exact reason I never parked there. It was a trap to block you in and the only way out, as I had discovered the summer before, was to gun it through the front yard, and the still partially visible tracks from my last escape attempt were still a topic of great controversy at home. My step-mom was still threatening to hide my body where no one would ever find it if I ever even thought about attempting another “the fast and the furious.” I made it five feet in front of the front porch before thinking better of it and deciding to go around to the back door. I had learned my lesson. Every time I got too close to that porch, something bad happened, and my life was changed forever. Besides, this way I could avoid the family and whoever this visitor was…likely some annoying family member of Kathleen’s as well. Two birds with one stone, and to top it off, the pissed off porch wouldn’t get to finish me off.
Carrying with me, the pride that I hadn’t let the porch get me again, I began to make my way around the side of the garage and down the hill, where the backyard already looked dark. If I hadn’t walked right into him, I might not have noticed dad making his way up the dark hillside in the opposite direction. The sight of him startled me a little.
“What are you doing?” He looked at me, puzzled.
“The front door was locked.” I lied quickly…so quickly that I was pretty impressed with myself. I knew that neither avoiding family nor what he would consider to be stupid superstition would bode well with him. He’d grown tired of his own children complaining about his new family long ago. To say something about them was just to start a fight I didn’t care about. So, a lie seemed like my best shot.
“Oh,” He sighed, “That’s weird. Guess I better head to the back door too, then. Your Aunt Mary probably locked it.”
He rolled his eyes and turned to walk with me around to the back.
Yep, I definitely called that one. My step-Aunt Mary was a prime example of family members I’d rather not associate with or breathe the same air as or give ice water to if they were on fire...you get the point.
“Aunt Mary’s here?” I said, not even bothering to contain the excitement in my voice. “Nice.”
Dad didn’t say anything. I had the feeling he too shared my excitement. Once he and I made it around the side of the side of the house and to the back door, he swung it open and started in, propping it enough for me to walk in as well. However, I just stood there for a second, trying to figure out some excuse or way to avoid being sucked up the stairs and into the family room with dad, now that I had been officially spotted. I didn’t mind doing chores and earning my keep, but not when Aunt Mary was around. I didn’t care to hear her racist remarks that everyone excused, or hear her go on and on about her real nieces and nephews when I didn’t give a fuck about them either. They could all go to hell.
“You coming in?” He finally asked me, and I knew it was escape now or suffer for the next two or three hours of my life until Aunt Mary decided to go home.
“Crap!” I exclaimed a little too dramatically, momentarily forgetting everything Tony had every taught me about lying before making a quick save and stepping right back on my game. “I forgot my phone in the car. I’ll be back in a minute.”
I turned around quickly, as if to head back up the side of the house, so dad wouldn’t catch on by any tell tale look on my face. Dad yelled after me that he’d unlock the front door for me so I wouldn’t have to come back around again. I yelled back a quick thanks, and as soon as he closed the door made a beeline for the opposite direction toward the trampoline in the back corner of our yard, toward the very end of the dark tree line. I’d sneak back into the house in about half an hour when they forgot about me. They’d assume I’d gone to sleep in my room or left again without saying anything. Dad might even forget that I had even been home if I was really lucky.
I made it to the back corner, where the trampoline was situated by itself on a small hill in the backyard. I climbed up on it, removing my shoes, before I rolled over comfortably on my back. From the dark yard, I could see the whole family in action through the large back windows of the house. It was like a tv show. A tv show that I had once been a part of. Even just a year ago, I thought to myself, I would have been in there with them all laughing, joking, and eating dinner, like was usual for me back then.
The trampoline felt warm on my back, where the sun had reflected off its black surface all day. I watched my younger sister joining Will at the table watching Aunt Mary talking about something from across the room. I felt sorry for them that they hadn’t escaped in time. Elizabeth would probably come up with something to get out of it about halfway through dinnertime. Will was more like me. He was so far gone that he would remain in his own head for a few more years before he too would see the light.
I turned my head toward the street instead and tried to figure it out. In my early high school years, I had been the all around good girl. I had stayed home with the family and had actually had the strength enough to pretend I enjoyed being around other people most of the time. My “parents” were always right, even when they were wrong, and I did whatever they told me to, even making sure to look over my shoulder regularly to be sure I was doing things as they would want me to. Whatever it took to keep the peace. Then one day, out of nowhere it seemed, I had woken up and the world was a different place. My family was officially gone, charades was overplayed, and yes, other people sucked. There, on the trampoline, I began to wonder to myself, when that change had occurred. I thought about the day my dad first dropped me off at college, and how I had cried thinking to myself about my life and how I didn’t know who to be. The act had gotten so good that even I had halfway believed it. How had it come to be, that now I’d do just about anything not to go home? How had it come to be that now I’d rather run into a burning building than my own front door.
As I lied there thinking to myself about it, I noticed a pair of headlights slowing down by the edge of the tree line. I squinted, but due to the darkness and the trees, couldn’t really tell what kind of car it was. It came around the edge of the tree line and crept up to the stop sign, before parking at the corner and cutting the engine off. Then, I watched as a tall dark figure crept down along the edge of the house, stumbling next to the burn pile and one point, as it made its way all the way up to the back door. I lied still, watching to see if they would go in, and wondering who it was. Probably some boy for Elizabeth, I had reasoned with myself momentarily. The figure stood there for a moment before pulling out a cell phone and as the light shined upon their face, I could suddenly see clearly that the figure was Tony. My phone, which was lying at my side, began to buzz. I clicked the talk button and put it up to my ear.
“Hello?” I said in a quiet voice. “Are you here yet?”
“What?” He asked in a confused, whispered voice. “How did you know…?”
“Because I can see you, bestie!” I said louder, across the yard. I was less worried about anyone in the house hearing, with all the noise that I could tell was already going on in the living room through the windows, “And I might add, would you like some fries with that shake?!”
Tony jumped a little. I was impressed. It was usually impossible to scare him. I heard him laughing as he headed toward the corner of the yard to join me.
“Nice.” He said, kicking his own shoes off and leaping up beside me, extending his feet to rest upon my lap.
“I thought so.” I said triumphantly. “What are you doing here…creeping the outside of my house? I thought you were Danny for a minute, putting that duct tape and rope to good use.”
I pushed his feet off my lap.
“You mind?” I laughed.
“Not at all,” he replied, laughing and throwing them right back over my thighs, making sure to frog my right thigh with the bony heel of his foot. “I forgot you're only attracted to killers. Next time I'll bring a weapon and
see where that gets me.”
Once I had escaped the assassin heel, I rolled over onto my side, laughing and looking up at him, happy it was dark out so he wouldn't see the red in my face. He was wearing a familiar, black Zeppelin t-shirt I had only seen a thousand times. The same mustard stain along the collar that had never completely come off, from a chili dog in my car one time that just couldn’t wait. To be fair, in his defense, it was indeed the “perfect” chili dog: hot chili sauce, cheese, horse radish, mustard, onions, more cheese, and love. I remember myself and the vendor of the chili dog stand just about gagging when he was asked to repeat his order. Needless to say, I’d made him roll down the window on his side before bringing it into the car so I wouldn’t pass out from the fumes. It always made me laugh to think of that day and how excited he’d been to get his hands on it. How he had paid the man and then smiled at his foot long heart attack like he’d just won a million bucks, only to drop it on the floorboard of my car before even taking the first bite. I could still see it so vividly in my mind; his daring rescue onto the floorboard as if he was James Bond, to rescue his dear chili dog. The saddest eyes I’d ever seen examining the chili dog and then looking back at me. I half expected to see tears in his eyes.
I could still hear him, as if it had happened yesterday, exclaiming, “TEN SECOND RULE!” before inhaling it anyway.
Luckily, my car had plastic floor mats at the time, not that I would have been nearly as concerned about stains as the smell of a concoction like that forever branded my car as an accessory to the chili cheese dog massacre. We had had some good times.
“Well,” He said airily, “I just so happened to be in the area early this week, and was wondering if you’d care to go for a drive?” He stopped talking and there was a long pause.
I could tell we were both still trying to get over the awkwardness of our last encounter.
He added quickly, “Basically there’s nothing else to do, so since you don’t really have a life, I figured I could come bug you.”
“Whatever!” I reached over to smack him, but he scooted away too quickly. “Well, Aunt Mary is here, so you could just about bribe me away from the house with trip to the dentist…Even CHURCH!” I exclaimed sarcastically.
“CHURCH?!” He played along. “That’s pretty serious. Let’s get you out of here!”
“My hero!” I joked.
With that, we crept up to his truck and made our getaway across the yard, staying close to the other side of the trees to avoid the view from the windows. It wasn’t long before the awkwardness that had been so strong and present seemed to fade like the house that had never been and never would be home, in the rear-view mirror.
I’m sure we drove for hours that night. We took a long loop around the whole city or Indianapolis, laughing and talking as though no weirdness had ever happened, and for that I was grateful. I wound up telling him about the dream about my mom at one point. I’m not sure why we got into that. It just some came up and the next thing I knew I was telling him every detail of it, from the hot sun, to how she looked like me, even about how thirsty I was when I woke back up and how I had barely gotten back to sleep. He was quiet the whole time I described it all to him. I’d been having the recurring dream for a couple of years, but this was the first time I’d ever actually told anyone about it. It felt strange to describe it all out loud, almost like I was hearing it for the first time, myself. After I’d finished telling him everything, we just sat there in silence for several seconds. I began to focus on the yellow lines on the street in front of us, wondering whether or not I should have told him, wondering why in the hell I’d told him. When he finally opened his mouth to speak, I have to admit, it doesn’t happen very often, but I was stunned.
“What a selfish bitch.” He said, much to my shock and surprise.
“What?” I asked him, looking right at his face, trying to figure out where in the hell that had come from.
“Yeah,” he said with a serious face, still looking straight ahead, hands resting on the wheel. “I mean, you ran all that way and even brought her flowers, and she just left you in the park without offering to give you a ride. No wonder you woke up so damn thirsty.”
I laughed for a second, wondering if he’d even gotten the gist of what I had been saying, or had only been half-listening and then jumped in when it seemed like a good time.
He turned his head to flash me that mischievous grin.
“Women,” He pretended to gripe, shaking his head, causing me to laugh with him.
After a little while, I leaned my seat back a little and relaxed as I watched the street lights pass by, accompanied by the low hum of the radio and the sound of Tony’s voice, just above it making fun of people walking through Broad Ripple Village.
“Look at that drunk woman dancing by herself!” He pointed out, laughing.
I smiled here and there as he talked, just enough that he couldn’t tell that I was in off in my own little world, lost in my thoughts and the tranquil night. It had been such a long summer, but in that moment, it was as if all that mattered was the glow that the city lights cast across Tony’s face and the way his eyes lit up when he smiled, reflecting the image of the road ahead as he stared at the path in front of us. I’d miss this. He was slouched back in the driver’s seat with one hand on the wheel, so comfortable…just like summer should be. The way the whole world should be. All year, it now seemed to me, I had been moving through rooms and just going through the motions. There at college, where I didn’t belong, and living at home with my family of strangers for so many years. A job that I was terrible and had no desire to get better at. That constant longing to be somewhere else, no matter where I was. But right then, in the car with Tony, was the first time in a long time that I felt like I was exactly where I was supposed to be. Still looking over at my best friend, I continued to let my head swim with those thoughts about a summer, and a chapter, rounding the bend, and coming to an imminent close.
“Tony?” I said to him in a soft tone, looking out the window, far away. “I…”
He cut me off, “It’s ok. I know.”
Just the way it is with the best friends, sometimes the unsaid is said and the said is unsaid. And that was all the discussion we needed. I wanted to tell him so many things. I think first I would have thanked him for teaching me how to dance, and for always being Tony. I just reached around the back of my neck and unclasped the chain that held the silver key, in the dark. He didn't even notice, as I set it, carefully, into the cup-holder on my side.
I felt different somehow, but still the same. I clutched the sleeves of my sweatshirt and pulled it close to me, wrapping my arms around one another.
When Tony dropped me off that night, or more accurately put, that morning around three-thirty a.m., we said our sleepy goodbyes in his truck, knowing we’d see each other again at again at some point. I wanted to leave things on that note. No one ever really knows about such things. I think we both knew things would be different, neither us knowing how, just somehow that they would be. Part of me wished the night didn’t have to end because I knew things would be different when I got out of his truck. Life would never reflect the way I had felt that particular night. I would never get back to being the person I should have been, and that's why I had to do it. I knew that without much contemplation and felt more sure of the decision I had already made. I smiled as I got out and stood in the door of it for just a second, for the very last time.
“Ciao!” I said exaggeratedly, before a long awaited yawn finally got me.
It must be true what they say, that yawns are contagious, because he yawned too and tried to erase from the sleepiness from his tired green eyes. Those tired green eyes that always seemed to be looking right through me, as if they already knew, a visual that never left me.
“Smooches!” He laughed.
As soon as it fell out of his mouth, we both turned a little red. It was clearly too soon for jokes just yet.
We exchanged awkward sm
iles and settled for a simpler goodbye. I spotted my necklace with the silver lying just across from him, sparkling from the ray of moonlight that shined across the dashboard. A representation of one of the two things he would never go anywhere without. I'm glad he kept the necklace, even though it's about time for him to put me away. I know a couple of times he's going to dial six digits, right before he remembers, and I hope it gives him comfort, knowing I wanted him to have it. I hope he holds it close to his heart when he asks himself why, because in his heart a part of me will never leave...I stood in the yard, watching and waving, as he pulled his truck back out onto the street and disappeared into the night. Then, I turned and walked slowly up to the house to make amends with the front porch. That late at night, at the tail end of a summer like the one I had just endured, I figured a semi would damn near have to come barreling off the highway, through the neighborhood, and into the house for the porch to finish me off at this point. Besides, after a night like that, I was optimistic enough to believe that everything had happened for a reason.
So instead of dodging it, or hurrying over it and into the house, I sat down on the top step and let my feet rest against the soft ground. Leaning up against the brick wall of the house, I stayed planted there, just like that for hours until the sun came up. Thinking about my summer and my life. Days gone by and days to come. I thought about my friends, my dissolved family, and even the missed call from the Tennessee number. Earlier, as I had ridden in the car with Tony, I had even considered calling it back. Part of me had wanted to know if after all this time, she had really tried to call. Part of me had wanted to know what she could possibly want, if it was her at all. But as I sat there on the porch, holding my phone in my hands and staring down at the number, I watched as my finger pressed the red delete button and as the pop up appeared to ask if I was sure. I was. I forgave her a long time ago. I no longer needed to know. I thought about calling Jolene for a second, but it was late and I knew she probably wouldn’t answer. It would all be okay in the morning. After a long time of searching, I finally had a sense of calm. It was almost over. It was almost time to go. The new is so hard to accept when the past still hurts so deeply, but I was ready to let go of what I had previously known to make room for the journey ahead of me. I was ready to stop grinding my teeth at life and carrying the burden of a heart so many times broken. I knew people were going to say what they wanted, but I, and I alone, determine the truth that best defines me. And if I'm truthful to myself, then I can admit what I knew along. I never belonged in that world. It was finally time for me to go home and I didn't feel any sadness. I felt relieved.
It's impossible and pointless to try to turn back the hands of time, but I think the thing that would have made the biggest difference would have been my parents telling me they loved me. Part of me wishes they had hugged me every day and just told me how much they cared about me. One father and one mother. Even if they weren’t under the same roof, just telling their daughter how important she was to them. Maybe they would have seen how much I needed them. Maybe they would have noticed something when I didn’t wake up that morning. And then maybe I would never have gotten so broken in the first place. It could have made the difference…but now we’ll never know. No one will ever know now. There are places beyond this realm that we embrace as our world, where there are no more tears, where heart break ends and we’re forced to spend all of eternity thinking about what could have been. As I watch the tears fall; the tears of those who never understood me and never tried to mend me. Tears of those who would not under any other circumstance have come to love and cherish my memories the way they do now, along with the tears of those I never really left. Everything I ever owned, sitting in a box, and my body in the ground. Now they gather around to love me from afar. They congregate to remember the person they all thought I was and love me for a picture of a place in time that can never be erased. Some of them have their faith to help them reconcile that I have found peace and am in a better place. A few of them will have remorse for words unsaid and time not taken. Most of them will never have seen it coming. I’ll watch them leave their flowers, and me, behind…
I was a 19 year-old kid as I stood up on the porch and prepared myself to go home. I looked out onto the yard and as far as I could see into the dark neighborhood. I could tell that the sunset was just over the house by the red and purple colors in the sky and the light it all cast into the yard. I longed so much to be a part of it. It looked ominous and indecisive, as my summer had seemed to be, as well as the days ahead. People will tell you things your whole life. How to look, how to act...how to feel. I finally did something just for me. I finally set myself free. I lingered for a second more before turning and heading into the house and to my bed to sleep.
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