Journey to the Unknown

by Jacqueline Francis

  “Nope.”

  He rarely had an appetite and one small meal a day was hard enough to choke down. The tragic curse of being a good, loving mother had befallen her and she always tried to make sure he was taken care of. Right now though, he didn’t want love or care. He just wanted to be left the fuck alone.

  She stood up and walked to the stove. “Maybe some bacon and eggs?”

  “No.”

  He used a firmer tone this time because she didn’t know when to stop pushing. She always did that. She wanted him to open up, talk about how he felt. And maybe in her distorted view of reality, the three of them sitting down like a happy family, eating bacon and eggs, would somehow pull him out of his spiral of depression. Maybe in her head, she thought breakfast had some kind of cosmic healing power, that it would magically erase the consuming ache he felt every fucking second of the day. In her world of colorful butterflies and prancing unicorns, a mother’s love was enough to absorb that pain. But in this world, in this reality, she was only making it worse.

  She clearly got the hint because she began fidgeting with her apron, debating whether she should push a little more. A blanket of tension settled over the kitchen. Even Dom went into a standby stance, staring at Kevin, just waiting for him to snap. Because he always snapped.

  “You have to eat, baby,” she began apprehensively. “If you’re not very hungry, I could just make a snack. Chocolate chip cookies? I could have it ready before Dom leaves for work and we could all eat together. Wouldn’t that be great?”

  Kevin shoved the cereal box back into the cupboard and slammed the door shut. “No,” he replied through gritted teeth. “I don’t want any fucking chocolate chip cookies. And no, I don’t think it would be great.”

  “Hey!” Dom’s stern tone was a warning. Their mother despised curse words and Dom didn’t hesitate for a second. “Watch your mouth, Kevin.”

  Dom slowly stood up. It was an intimidation tactic. All his brothers, Dom, Shane, and Max, hovered at above six foot. Even his sister, Jordan, was tall, but Kevin was the runt of the litter, barely making it to five-seven. He was more lithe than muscular and Dom could overpower him in seconds.

  Kevin’s eyes locked on his brother’s and it was a long stare down. Being the eldest out of the five of them, Dom had developed the talent of communicating without talking. Right now his eyes were telling Kevin to back down and Kevin’s eyes told him to fuck off, so Dom’s eyes said: “You’re asking for it.” And Kevin’s eyes responded: “Okay, you win.”

  He didn’t like physical violence, but he would prefer that to the type of punishment Dom dished out. He was so much bigger, it was effortless for him. Dom would grab him around his midriff, restraining both arms so he was completely immobile, and hold him off the ground until he succumbed. Now that may not seem bad on the surface, but there was nothing Kevin hated more than feeling powerless. That shit was just emasculating and he’d take an ass-whipping over that any day.

  His mother decided to break the loaded silence. “I’m sorry, Kevin. I was just trying to—”

  “What, Ma?” he cut in, turning his full attention back to her. “What exactly were you trying to do? You trying to make me feel better? Is that it?”

  “Kevin.” Dom’s warning was a little more compassionate this time, but still a warning.

  Kevin was past the point of caring about the consequences. He didn’t care about the tears that were now running down his mother’s face. He didn’t care about anything. “Here’s a newsflash, Ma. Nothing is going to make me feel better. Not your bacon and eggs, not your chocolate chip cookies, and certainly not you! You wanna offer me breakfast like everything is just peachy when my best friend is six feet under. Forgive me if I don’t have an appetite.”

  “You’re not the only one who lost him,” Dom bit out. “Stop using it as an excuse to behave like a dick! Perry was like a brother to me, too. I know how you feel.”

  “Fuck you!” The retort burst out of him louder than he’d intended. He was grinding his teeth, desperately trying to stop hot tears that were on the brink of falling. “You weren’t there that night. You don’t have a clue how I feel.”

  Dom’s brown eyes softened, immediately switching to big brother mode. There was too much love in this damn family and he wanted no part in it. “Well, I’m right here, Kevin. Tell me. You keep bottling it in and then you just explode, so instead of snapping all the time and blowing up over something as simple as breakfast, just tell me how you feel.”

  He made it sound so easy, like there were actually words to describe every fragment of a shattered soul, like simple sentences were enough to convey the black hole sucking the life out of him from the inside. Yeah, Dom didn’t have a fucking clue.

  “Kay needs to eat,” was all he said before he walked across the kitchen and out the back door.

  He went to the shed, got a hammer and one nail and then walked across the yard to a log called Mom. There was a log for every member of his family. It was his way of keeping track of every vile comment that left his mouth.

  When he was ten years old, a heated argument with Jordan caused him to snap. He’d lashed out with ugly words and because she’d never been the type to take shit from anyone, she fought back. She grabbed him by the ear, dragged him outside and instructed him to hammer a nail into a log. When he was done, she pulled out the nail and showed him the hole that was left behind.

  “That’s what your words do to people, Kevin,” she’d said. “And it doesn’t matter if you say you’re sorry, that hole doesn’t close. It stays there forever.”

  So that’s how he kept track of every hurtful remark, every hole he left in his wake. It was a reminder of what an asshole he could be, and he needed very little provocation.

  Dom had four nails in his log. Even though he always stepped in to diffuse a situation, he rarely did anything to piss Kevin off. Shane only had three. He never stopped talking, which was incentive enough for Kevin to steer clear of him. Jordan had nineteen, because Jordan was a sister and sisters were annoying. Momma B, Perry’s mom (Kevin’s second mom), had one for that one time he’d said the ugliest thing imaginable to her. After a swift slap, he never snapped at her again.

  Just like Dom and for the very same reason, his dad had four. There were no nails in both Perry and Max’s logs. Perry for obvious reasons, but Max…Max had a temper, the Aries temper Mom called it. It didn’t matter if he was outsized or outnumbered, Max was always the first to throw a punch. Kevin and Perry had been bullied all through elementary school and he’d grown to hate violence. He would never allow it to come to fists, not with his brother. On the very few occasions Max had angered him, Kevin had chosen to simply walk away.

  But then there was his poor mother. She had fifty-eight nails and twenty of them had been hammered in during the last three months. She just didn’t get it. Every time she tried to hold him, he thought about how Momma B would never get to hold Perry again. Every time she tried to reach out, he withdrew even more. She wanted to take away the pain, but he deserved to feel every ounce of it. Perry and Shandré were the most amazing people he’d ever met. They should have had a beautiful, happy life together and yet he was the one who survived. How did he come out of that crash with nothing but a scratch?

  They’d hit something in the road. He still didn’t know what it was, but the car spun out of control. It flipped and Perry flew straight through the windshield. They’d found Shandré’s body lying in a ditch. He’d dragged Clayton to the side of the road. His legs were broken in so many places bones were jutting out through his skin. Kevin had been covered in so much blood that night he could still smell it. Two dead bodies, two amputated legs, and all he got was one fucking scratch.

  The guilt was overwhelming. He didn’t go to their funerals. He hadn’t gone to see Momma B. He hadn’t seen Clayton, not even a phone call to see how he was doing. There would be too much resentment and he had enough to deal with.

  He needed to get out of there, away from G
reat Falls, away from the haunting memories. His birthday was coming up and he didn’t want to be anywhere near here on that day. Perry wanted to go to Florida and he’d take him there. Well, at least what he had left of him. The dog-tag chain that he’d worn every day since they were eighteen years old. He would take that to Florida. That was in no way good enough, but he had to do something. It wouldn’t ease the guilt, but it was the least he could do to honor Perry’s memory.

  He didn’t have a lot of money. With the allowance his dad deposited into his bank account each month, he had a bit saved up and he’d make it work somehow. Hitchhike as much as he could. Cheap motels. Limited food. The trip should take a little over a week. He could make it work.

  With his mind made up, he walked back inside and went straight to the bathroom. He showered and changed, then went to his bedroom. He packed two large duffle bags with the basics of what he might need and tucked Perry’s dog-tag chain safely into his pocket. He had the same chain hanging around his own neck. Three years and he hadn’t taken it off once.

  Walking back to the living room, he knelt down in front of the sofa. “Hey, Princess. Uncle K is going away for a little while.”

  “For how long?” she asked innocently.

  “Just a few days. I need you to be a good girl, okay? And I need you to take care of Grandma for me. If you see her crying, just give her a big hug. Can you do that for me?”

  She nodded, shifting on the sofa and throwing her short arms around his neck. “I’m gonna miss you.”

  He held onto her for a bit, squeezing her a little too tight, but she didn’t complain. “Me too. I promise we’ll have that ball as soon as I get back.” He felt her lips on his cheek and enjoyed that for a few more seconds before he slowly eased her away and stood up. “See you soon.”

  Grabbing the duffle bags in one hand, he tossed them over his shoulder and headed for the front door.

  “Kevin, where are you going?”

  “None of your business, Dom.”

  “So you were just going to leave without a word? Just let our mother sit here and worry while you go off to God knows where. Real mature, little brother.”

  Kevin flipped him the middle finger and carried on walking to the door.

  “You little shit!” was all he heard before Dom’s strong arms wrapped around his midriff.

  “Get off me!” He wriggled like crazy and still couldn’t get out of his brother’s hold. A second later he was lifted off the ground and he didn’t know which emotion was winning the battle. Helplessness or anger. No, it was anger caused by the helplessness. It was impossible to fight him off.

  “You’re a selfish prick!” Dom hissed. “You only think about yourself.”

  He was still writhing, wrestling to get himself free. “Get the fuck off me!”

  “Stop it!” Their mother’s anguished plea put a stop to everything. “Dominic Thadeus, you put him down right now.” She waited until his feet touched the ground. “Now what’s going on?”

  “You wanna tell her, Kevin? Or are you still planning on leaving without a word?”

  “You’re leaving?” she asked, her voice cracking with hurt and anxiety.

  He did nothing but nod.

  Her eyes took note of the two duffle bags on the floor. “When are you coming back?”

  “Whenever I get back.”

  Dom sneered and shook his head, but she was worried. It showed by the wrinkles on her forehead. “One of us could take you…Wherever you wanna go, your dad or I will take you.”

  “I need to do this alone,” he said unevenly. “I need to get out of here, Ma. It’s killing me to stay.”

  She didn’t respond, but he saw the understanding in her eyes. Another curse of being a loving mother. She understood his ill-tempered irrationality without him having to explain it further. He lifted his bags again and although he exchanged a quick look with Dom, he left without saying another word.

  “Kevin!”

  Her screechy scream filled his ears before he even reached the end of the driveway. He stopped but didn’t turn around.

  “You’ll call me, right? You’ll let me know you’re okay.”

  He threw his head back. Like the guilt he already felt wasn’t enough. She just had to add on an extra layer. He dropped his bags and walked back up the stairs to the front door. “I’ll call.” Leaning in, he placed a kiss on her cheek and whispered the words that were meant for her ears only. “I love you, Mom.” Before she could respond, he placed his finger on her lips. “Don’t say it back.” He couldn’t bear to hear it.

  Tears welled up in her eyes, but he turned away before the first one fell. He’d made her cry enough today and if he didn’t see it, then it didn’t happen.

  He walked down the street, in the opposite direction of Perry’s house, heading towards the main road. He was going to hitch a ride with whoever was kind enough to offer and see how far he could get. No matter what, he was going to get to Florida.

  The events of the morning played heavily on his mind. “All in a day’s work,” he told himself.

  He’d argued with his brother, made his mother cry, and bailed out on a ball. In a few meager hours, he’d disappointed three people and there were only three people in the house.

  What an asshole! In fact, if there were some kind of competition for it, he would definitely be a contender. He could actually hear the commentators go off in his head, glorifying every aspect of his despicable behavior.

  Dan: Hi there, folks, and welcome to our annual Asshole of the Year Awards. I’m Dan (points to the left). This is my co-host, Bob. Bob, why don’t you fill our viewers in on what’s been happening?

  Bob: Well, we’ve got some strong competitors this year, Dan. It’s gonna be tight. We’ve got Ashley Jensen from North Dakota, the very dishonest mechanic. We’ve got Jamie Olsen from Wisconsin, the evil boss. From Kansas, ironically enough, we’ve got Dorothy, cheating on her husband. (Turns to Dan) Then there was also that one guy from New York…

  Dan: That doesn’t narrow it down (chuckles). All New Yorkers are assholes.

  Bob: Nothing like insulting an entire state, Dan (laughs). Anyway, I want to take some time and talk about our regional champion from Montana, Kevin Shepard. His performance this morning was just outstanding. I mean, I have seen people in their forties, who practice long and hard and never reach that level of asshole-ness, and here’s this kid, just shy of twenty-one, doing it so effortlessly.

  Dan: It was breakfast, Bob (grinning with amusement). Breakfast! I don’t know if you read the background on this kid, but he comes from a loving family, he’s an amazing swimmer – could go pro if he wanted – and he was just acing every course in college. He actually has the perfect life. All of these things tell me that he should be a decent human being. But then he blows up at his mother, treats her like a fucking doormat. The same woman who has done nothing but love him unconditionally. All because of something as stupid as breakfast. Anyone who speaks to their mother like that is just on another plane of fucked up. And let’s be honest, Bob. It’s not like he can’t get pussy. We can’t even blame it on a bout of sexual frustration. This kid is just a dick!

  Bob: He did lose his best friend, though. He’s hurting. I think maybe he’s just misunderstood and deep down he’s got a good heart. I don’t think he’ll even make it to the quarter finals.

  Dan: Well, let’s see. Only time will tell. That performance this morning was incredible and I have faith in him. I think he’s gonna go all the way.

  November, 6

  Yellowstone County, Montana

  “That’s it! I’ve had it. I’m done. I’m just…That’s the last straw. I’m done.”

  A flood of responses came through the speakers of her laptop, all three of them talking at once, defending him like they always did. Jasmintha wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, she really did, but she’d been listening to these excuses for months now. She knew he was busy. He was always busy. Not seeing him was something she had got
ten used to over time, but ever since she and her dad emigrated from South Africa to the States six months ago, she never got to see him anymore. Never! Were it not for the picture of him she kept in her purse, she would forget what he looked like. Her twin cousins and best friend were constantly trying to justify his actions, but Jasmintha had reached the point where enough was enough.

  She walked across the small room and sat down in front of the laptop, staring at the wary faces of her cousins, Prenisha and Pratiksha, and her friend, Rachel. On the screen, she could see sunshine streaming through her cousin’s bedroom window. It was the beginning of summer in South Africa and the swimsuits they were wearing showed they were going to have fun today—a braai by the pool. Wait. She was an American now. A barbeque by the pool. Or was it a cookout? She was still getting used to the phrases. The thought made her miss home, miss them, because at least when she was around them, she could force herself to not feel the absence of her father.

  “It’s not like I regret moving here,” Jasmintha explained. “Once I start my new job next year, it’s gonna change my life. I was so excited, not just because of the job, but also because…I thought when we moved here, things would change and he would spend more time with me. But now he’s still in Chicago, sorting out some crisis with his new hotel. He says he won’t be able to get here before Christmas Eve. Christmas Eve! What the hell am I supposed to do here for over a month?”

  Prenisha was the first to pipe up. “You could go sightseeing. I’ve heard Montana is beautiful.”

  “You heard that in My Sister’s Keeper,” Pratiksha added in. “You don’t know for sure.”

  “It is beautiful,” Jasmintha agreed, “but one thing that movie doesn’t tell you is that it’s freezing here. If I spit, it will be frozen by the time it hits the ground.”

  The twins’ brother, Jitesh, burst into their bedroom just then, still talking to someone who remained outside the door. “Ne, guzzi. Blom a bit. When my cherry gets here, we’ll vy to Marlon’s pozzy.”