Ch. 31 (Closer)
-After downing five Melted Snowmans at a sportsbar, I caught a girl staring at me from the shuffleboard table.
-She walked over to me, introducing herself as Sugar.
-I ended up taking her home.
-One thing led to another, and we had sex at my place.
-I found myself thinking about Lyn the whole time, forcing me to stop in the middle of the act and calling the girl a cab.
-After being bombarded with bittersweet memories and regret in the morning, I decided to go for a drive.
-I pulled up to a house that I haven't been to in six months.
*Strong language*
Location: 2097 Edgewood Road
Date: Tuesday, 11/1/11
Time: 10:47 a.m.
I can't tell if he's dead or if he's merely immobilized by his drunken stupor. Either way, this isn't the first time I've seen him like this. I can probably count on one hand how many times I remember seeing him sober...or coherent. Being around him is like being locked in a room with a swarm of bees. I know they can hurt me, so I have to be careful and not agitate them, since they also possess my only source of nourishment. I have to choose my words and movements carefully, treading that fine line between absolute fear and absolute hatred for the predicament I'm in. I'm stuck, yet thats the only thing I know. That's the only thing I expect. All I can really do is anticipate that moment when I have a small window of escape, but I don't know when that will happen.
"Dad....wake up..." On my knees, I gently nudge the arm that's hanging loosely over the cushion. When he doesn't respond, I lean closer so he can hear me. "Dad!"
A scowl takes over his face as he lets out an annoyed grunt, as if a fly has been buzzing over him for a while, interrupting his sleep. Great. He's not dead. Maybe he should be. He's been marinating in liquor since I learned how to say "daddy". I don't remember him ever giving me a bottle of milk or changing my diaper but he always had his own bottle in hand. I can still remember how bitter vodka tasted when I was five years old, when my curiousity got the best of me. I was fascinated by this transparent bottle filled with clear liquid, wondering why it took so long for my dad to finish it. It looked like water, but it tasted nothing like it. It was bitter, it burned my throat, it made me cough and it made me feel sleepy afterwards. I never understood why my mom got so upset about this. I also never understood why my dad smacked her in the face a few minutes later.
"Leave me alone..." He mumbles as he shifts on his side before slowly opening his eyes. They are bloodshot, empty and inconvenienced by my presence.
As he sits up straight, his eyes focus on the inconsequential ramblings of the sports anchor, who is reviewing the highlights of this week's football games. I sit as close to the edge of the couch as possible. That way, I won't have to be uncomfortably aware of his nearness, and I can avoid that awkward eye contact that just makes my skin crawl.
"So the Llamas beat the Cowdevils." He comments, but he never averts his gaze from the t.v.
"Yeah, I guess so." My left foot fidgets as I try to ignore the foul stench harassing my nose. I don't know if it's the damp air circulating in the living room, the old take-out boxes sitting on the coffee table for God knows how long or the fact that my father probably hasn't showered in a week, based on the grease stains and dried sweat emanating from his black tank top.
"Mm-hmm..." A soft grunt escapes his lips, as if forming a whole word is too much trouble and a mere waste of energy.
My first instinct is to just walk out the door and never come back. What's the point? Why am I here? If he's just going to waste his life away, why bother checking on him in the first place? It's not like I have a relationship with him. It's not like we have meaningful conversations where he acts remotely interested in my success or the events in my life. He'd have to be sober to do that. But I can't bring myself to leave him like this, even though he created his own mess, the same way I created mine. As big of an asshole as he is, and despite the number of ways he has failed me, he is still my dad.
In a strange way, I understand why he's like this. I may never know the reasons that made him resort to alcohol, but I know its purpose. It has a magical way of making things okay, even though I'm drowning in my own self-hatred and self-delusions. But it can also warp my sense of reality.
"Dad, you need to lay off the liquor." I mutter as I pick up the trash littered all over the coffee table and grungy carpet. How can he live like this?
"I don't need no goddamn lectures."
Ever since my mom left, I was forced to take on the role of caretaker. I don't know how my dad maintained a job growing up, but when he came home, he was inherently useless. He would sit on the couch with his bottle in hand, and stare at the t.v. like a zombie. It got to the point where the closest thing J.C. had to a real meal was the cafeteria food at school. I wasn't ready to be responsible, nor did I find it fair that I had to step up and help take care of this family, but I had no choice. The thought of my brother and I being split up because of an incompetent father was too massive of a fear to ignore. I taught myself to cook, keep up my grades, get a scholarship from playing football, hold a part-time job and make sure that my father and brother weren't stewing in their own filth.
As I dice up the wedge of processed cheese into cubes, I become bombarded by memories of that morning after Lyn and I made love for the first time. I found her standing over the stove, stirring a pot of mac and cheese, in nothing but her bra and panties. I never let girls stay the night. I usually call a cab for them afterwards when they have served their purpose. But with Lyn...I wanted to see her face when I woke up. I wanted to know if that night meant as much to her as it did to me. And when I saw her cheeks turn crimson when she turned around, eyes drenched in shy desire, I knew. I knew we shared something incredible.
"So why haven't you been visiting?" He asks as he pokes at his steaming bowl of artificially gooey mac and cheese. I can never make it quite as good as Lyn. I don't know what she puts in it, but it always comes out creamy, like it melts in your mouth. Yes, even from a box.
"I've been busy at the hospital." I reply as I take another bite. What am I supposed to say? That I'd rather eat shit than put up with more of his soul-sucking company?
"You and your brother forgot about me." He briefly looks in my direction, with his eyes narrowed, as if he's trying to illicit some sort of guilt.
"Look, he's been busy too. He's been focusing on his music."
"When is he gonna grow up and find a real job?"
After I wash the dishes, clean the counters, throw out bad food from the fridge and put the leftovers away, I walk in the living room, only to find the vodka bottle near my dad's lap again. I stashed it away in the liquor cabinet when I cleaned the living room, hoping he'll stay away from it for the rest of the day, but it looks like it found him again. This just grates on my last nerves. The reason why I made lunch is to put homemade food in his stomach and sober him up.
"You're drinking again??" I throw my hands up in frustration, shaking my head.
"I can do whatever the fuck I want."
"Give me the bottle." I hold my hand out as I walk over to him.
"No." His hand clutches the neck of the vodka bottle, its clear contents swirling around, but his eyes are still stubbornly fixated on the t.v.
"Give me the bottle!!"
"Are you telling me what to do??" He quickly raises up from the couch with his finger pointing at me. His eyes piercing through me in a menacing challenge as if I just had the audacity to speak to him as an adult.
"No, I just think you're---" The familiar fear of getting hit again forces me to lower my voice and control my emotions. He hasn't used his fist on me since high school, but everytime he raises his voice and gets this rage in his eyes, I brace myself.
"What? Drinking too much? So you think you can just come in here and tell me how I should live my life after you disappear for six months??"
"Dad, it's not like that. I'm just worried about you."
"You can save the bullshit. You don't give a fuck about me. None of you do. Your slut of a mother left me for another man and my own sons don't even bother to visit me. So stop acting like you care because we both know that's a lie!"
Is he so delusional that he thinks he's still the victim?? That my mom left him for no reason? That we don't visit him because we're such bad sons? I can feel my blood boil at the idea that he thinks he's an innocent party in all this, and he never contributed to the dysfunction of this family.
"You know what dad?? Mom left you because you beat her ass and you treated her like shit. Did you forget---"
"What?? You're defending that whore---"
"Let me finish!! For once you are going to shut the fuck up and listen. Do you fucking understand me??"
His eyes widen in shock, as if he has just been hit by a ton of bricks. But he remains silent, cautiously watching me.
"You have been drunk since I remember how to spell the word drunk. You treated all of us like shit. Mom left because she couldn't deal with you anymore. Do I agree with what she did? Of course not! I hate her fucking guts for abandoning me and J.C. You know why? Because we got stuck with you. You took your anger out on us and that wasn't fucking fair!!"
Everything comes out, and I can't stop it. All of my anger, my frustration, my regret and resentment towards my own parents rushes through my throat like vomit that's been fermenting in my stomach for years. All those times I've had to hold it in, just for the sake of being strong and sane for J.C., finally came to an end.
"Brad...." He mumbles with a pained look on his face. His eyes are shocked, offended and disarmed...by the truth.
"You know what? Do whatever you want. If you want to die early, you might as well make it easier with a gun. Save all of us the misery." It takes every fiber in my soul to hold back the tears threatening to flood my eyes. I'm not going to cry in front of this man. I refuse to let him see me like this.
"Brad, I'm sorry..."
"I'm still going to take care of your bills. But don't expect to see my face again."
I walk out the door.
"I will never bother you
I will never promise too
I will never follow you
I will never bother you
Never say a word again
I will crawl away for good"
"Pain, pain, pain
You know you're right
You know you're right
You know you're right"
Lyn. The only woman that has ever loved me. I don't exactly know what she saw in me, but she believed in me enough to become a doctor. She has put up with my bullshit for two years. And what do I do? I end up screwing her sister twice. Out of spite. I caused her to lose the baby. I caused her to leave her life behind. Now she's in some strange town, all by herself, because of me.
Luke. He has treated me no different than his own blood, like his own brothers. He has been there for me since we were little, he has seen it all, and stuck by my side. How did I show my appreciation? By screwing the girl he was in love with. Maybe I was just jealous that he has such a perfect life and comes from such a happy home. Maybe I just wanted him to get a taste of the pain I put up with everyday. Maybe I wanted him to be as miserable as I was.
There's only one way to end all this.
Location: 272 Windsor Drive
Time: 5:15 p.m.
Before embarking on my plan, I decide to stop by another house. I want to tie up all the loose ends before moving on with my life completely. Lyn left her silver La Matea at my place. The chances of her coming back for it is very slim, unless she sends someone to pick it up. But when is that going to happen? I'm not going to sit around and wait. It's only right that I bring it back. I have no use for it, and I certainly don't need another reminder of her.
I'm just going to go in there, drop the car off, and leave.
As I walk closer to the door, I can feel the endless drumming of my heart. It's been a while since I've been to this house. They have always welcomed me like I was a part of their family. I can still remember that night when I picked Lyn up for our first official date. I was so nervous about meeting her family, especially her dad. That was the first time I have ever done that. It may have seemed old-fashioned, but I actually appreciated the chivalry. It made things seem worthwhile, like I was a gentleman eagerly anticipating the opportunity to spend more time with the object of my affection. I definitely had more respect for her because of that.
Not too long after I press the doorbell, Adam opens the door. He's like a little brother to me. I swear, he always followed me around like a little puppy, always asking for my advice. He would even call me out of the blue, just to say hi.
"Hey, Brad!" His eyes widen in surprise as he flashes me a warm smile, motioning for me to come inside.
"Hey, Adam!"
Mr. Santori. The first time I met him, he scared the shit out of me. There was something about his calm, collected demeanor that spelled "screw with my daughter and you're dead". He's very protective of Lyn, and he has every right to be that way. Some of the things I did to and with girls would cause any father to form a lynch mob and come after me. I knew I couldn't mess this one up, especially after he said "take care of my daughter" before we stepped out of the house. That just made me feel like a creep, like I was out to take advantage of his little girl, and I knew I couldn't let him down.
"It's good to see you, Brad. How've you been?" He asks as he takes the spot next to me on the couch.
"I've been good, sir. Just busy at the hospital. How about you?"
"Can't complain. We're just worried about Lyn. Adam told us that she's okay but she didn't leave a number or an address where we can find her."
"Hello, Brad! What you doing here?" Mrs. Santori asks in her usual Shang Simlan accent as she walks over in our direction.
"I wanted to drop off Lyn's car. She never came back for it, so I thought I'd leave it with you." Being surrounded by Lyn's family makes it even harder for me to keep my composure. The guilt slowly gnaws away at my conscience. If they find out what I did, they will never let me escape this house alive. And it doesn't help that they treat me so well.
"That is nice of you. Thank you." A smile forms on her face as she eases down on the chair across the coffee table.
"No thought was put into this
I always knew it would come to this
Things have never been so swell
I have never failed to fail"
"Have you heard from Lyn?" Mrs. Santori asks. She possesses the weary eyes of a mother who has probably lost sleep over the safety of her daughter, wondering where she is and if she's okay. Even though Lyn implied that her parents don't love her, what I'm seeing today proves that's far from the truth. Even if it was true, maybe this whole event was the wake-up call that they needed.
"Well..." As I try to sort through the words coming out of my mouth, I'm torn between protecting my own ass and doing what's best for Lyn. If I tell them what happened, I will destroy whatever relationship I have left with them. They are the closest thing I have to a normal family right now. If I continue to keep up this lie, I'll have to live with myself, knowing her family is worried sick about her and I didn't help when I had the chance to.
I feel their eyes...and the whole world burning on me.
What do I do?
*Copyright 2012 Lyn C.S.* ---------------------------------------
"You Know You're Right" by Nirvana
Video by: NirvanaVEVO
