The lines and wrinkles seemed to smooth out on Nana’s face as she recalled the memory. Nana couldn’t remember that I’d visited her two days earlier, but she remembered every detail of something that had happened more than forty years ago. The farther we are from someone, the further we live in their past.
“Eleanor saw me put butter in everything I baked, so she must have thought it would be delicious on its own.”
“I bet that’s why Mom hates baking cookies,” I said. “She always made me take store-bought treats for the bake sales in middle school.”
Audrey shuddered. “I love cookies, but I’d never eat butter.”
Nana sighed and touched the picture. “And yet, cookies would taste terrible without it.”
Audrey and I hung out for another hour, listening to Nana’s stories. She told us about the detective who lived on the third floor and the nice woman down the hall named Bella who was a stage magician, while Audrey brushed Nana’s hair. I wasn’t sure how much was real and how much was fantasy, but it didn’t matter because it made her smile.
When we signed out, I flipped through the pages to see if anyone else had visited Nana. Charlie’s careless scrawl popped up once, but Mom’s was there every day.
I wasn’t in the mood to talk on the drive back, and Audrey gave me some space. We stopped for coffee, and after we left, she said, “Nana seems okay.”
“I guess.”
“I mean, I’ve heard of worse places.”
“Me too.” I burned my tongue and swore. “Truth is, I’m not worried about her being mistreated. You just don’t know her. She was barely forty when my grandfather died, and she’s been on her own ever since. She’s so stubborn that Mom had to practically force her to come live with us.”
Audrey only ever drank iced coffee, and she sipped hers through a ridiculously long straw. “I don’t think she remembered me.”
“She called me Henry, but I think she thought I was my grandfather.”
“They’ll take care of her.” Audrey patted my leg. “How are things with Diego?”
I leaned my head against the window. “Confusing.”
“He doesn’t seem confused.”
“Maybe that’s the problem.” I’d been so sure that staying away from him was best for us both, but then we’d kissed and I’d read to him from my journals and he still hadn’t told me why he moved to Calypso, but I think maybe he wanted to. I couldn’t think when we were together. Diego took the clarity granted to me by the sluggers and twisted it around until I didn’t know what I wanted anymore.
Audrey drove slower the closer we got to my house. “Henry, Jesse would want you to be happy.”
“If either of us had known what Jesse really wanted, he might not be dead.” It was a terrible thing to say, but I had so many terrible things bubbling inside of me that it was inevitable some would occasionally spill out. “Whatever. It’s not just Jesse. It’s complicated.”
“I know, I know. End of the world.” Audrey pulled up in front of my house. She came to a stop but didn’t put the car in park.
“Maybe the end of the world isn’t the problem, Audrey. Maybe it’s the solution. And right now Diego’s a complication.”
• • •
Dust clouded the air in the living room when I got into the house, and settled on every surface. Boxes of Nana’s belongings were stacked against the walls. Clothes mostly, but also picture albums and scrapbooks I remember Nana displaying on bookshelves in her old house. The walls rattled, and I followed the twang of a cheerful country song toward Charlie’s room. The doorway was covered with plastic sheeting that I ducked through, and Charlie was dressed in board shorts, flip-flops, his old workout shirt, and a breathing mask, swinging a hammer at the wall that used to divide his room from Nana’s. She’d only been gone a few weeks, and it was already like she’d never lived there.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” I pulled my shirt over my mouth and nose to keep from breathing in the drywall dust.
Charlie slipped the hammer into his waistband. “Making room for Zooey and the baby.”
I surveyed the mess. “You’re going to bring the house down on our heads!”
“I know how to Google shit, asshole. I’m not a total moron.” He tore a down a chunk of drywall and tossed it onto the heap with the rest.
“You failed woodshop in high school.”
“I was stoned through most of high school.” Charlie lifted the mask and rested it on top of his head. White dust coated his face, and he looked like the surface of the moon. He reached into a cooler under the window, grabbed two beers, and tossed me one.
“I’m pretty sure this is the cheapest beer you can buy.” I’m not a beer connoisseur, but I know shit when I drink it.
“Babies are expensive.” Charlie shook his head. “I’d give up drinking completely if I didn’t live with you assholes.”
“Mom could drive the pope to drink.”
Charlie chugged his beer. “If I could afford to get my own place, trust me, I would.”
“Do you really think this is worth it? The job, living here?”
Charlie sat down on the cooler and wiped the sweat from forehead. He was gaining back some of the muscle he’d lost after high school, but he’d lost the war with his hairline. “I’m doing what I have to do.”
“Wouldn’t you rather do something you love?” I thought back to my conversation with Zooey, about Charlie giving up his dream of being a firefighter.
Charlie finished his beer and grabbed another. I’d barely taken two sips of mine. “I’m gonna love being a dad. I’ll get to teach my kid how to throw a punch and a football. It’s going to be fun.”
“Raising a kid isn’t supposed to be fun.”
“Says you.”
“What makes you think you’ll be any better than our dad?”
“Because I want to be.”
“Is it really that simple?”
Charlie stared at me for a second, his brow furrowed. “Yes! It’s that fucking simple. I’ll be a better father than our father because I want to be. I’m sure I’ll screw up loads of other things, but I won’t make the same mistakes as him, and I won’t ever leave.”
“Was it my fault? Did Dad leave because of me?”
“Damn it, Henry.” Charlie rubbed his head and looked at me like he hoped I was joking, but I wasn’t. “You know what your problem is? You overthink everything.”
“Yes or no, Charlie?”
“Dad left because he was a dick. It doesn’t matter if it was because of you or me or Mom. He left because he was a selfish prick, and that’s all you need to know.”
It was as close to an honest answer as I was going to get without being able to ask my father directly, but it didn’t make me feel any better. “Why would you want to bring a kid into such a fucked-up world?”
“Are you kidding, bro? About the only good thing I can do is bring this kid into the world, give her the best life I can, and believe that she can make it a better place.”
Charlie’s transformation blew my mind. This was the same guy who delighted in sticking freshmen’s heads in toilet bowls in high school, and thought flicking boogers on me was hilarious. He was still an ass, but he was an ass with a purpose. I was so stunned that I almost missed what he’d let slip. “Wait. Did you say ‘her’?” He couldn’t contain his grin, and I hugged him, clapping his back. “Congratulations, Charlie.”
Charlie socked me in the shoulder. “Don’t tell Mom. Zooey wants to do it. Some kind of chick-bonding thing.”
“I won’t.” I couldn’t believe Charlie was going to have a daughter. She wasn’t a little parasite anymore; she was my niece. She wasn’t going to grow up and go to high school and become a porn-addicted, chronic-masturbating alcoholic. She was going to have a mother and father who loved her and didn’t slam doors. She was going to have an uncle who was sometimes abducted by aliens. She was going to grow up and grow old and fill her head with memories that time would never
be able to steal from her.
Except she wouldn’t because the world was going to end. “I saw Nana today.”
“How is she?”
“We’re her family; she should be with us.”
“This way’s better,” Charlie said. “A month ago she tried to crawl into bed with me and Zooey at two in the morning.” He shuddered.
“It’s not right.” I couldn’t shake the image of Nana sitting alone in her bedroom staring at that one lonely picture. Even though she’d made friends, they weren’t her family. We were her family, and we’d abandoned her. But it was more than Nana. It was how bitter and cynical Mom had become, and Marcus’s downward spiral, and my not being able to get over Jesse and give Diego a fair chance. “Everything’s so fucked up.”
Charlie tossed the hammer at my feet. It hit the floor with a thud. “Help me tear down this wall.”
“Why?”
Charlie pointed at the hammer with his chin. “Break the drywall, or I break your face.”
“Yeah, you’re going to be a great dad.” Charlie feinted toward me, and I snatched the hammer. I’d seen Charlie do it, but I felt silly. What was he hoping to accomplish? Anything? Or was I just free labor? Still, I knew he wouldn’t let me escape without trying to tear down the wall. I swung the hammer. It barely made a dent. “Sweet. That was fun. Thanks.”
“Weak.” Charlie pushed me toward the wall. “Hit that motherfucking wall, Henry!”
I cocked my arm back and let it fly. The drywall cracked. Again, and it made a hole.
“Yeah!” hollered Charlie. He cranked up his shitty music until I couldn’t hear myself think.
Adrenaline surged through me. Testosterone and electricity. I began to understand the power of aggression, of fists and fighting and pain. With this hammer, I wasn’t Space Boy or Henry Denton, I was a mighty warrior and I could do anything. I attacked the wall, punching hole after hole into it, and when I’d made enough holes, I tore it down with my bare hands and bloody knuckles. The wall was my bad grades in school. The wall was the sluggers and their fucking button. The wall was Marcus. The wall was Jesse. The wall was Mom’s job and Charlie’s daughter. The wall was Diego. The wall was everything I hated, everything I loved.
I probably would have dug through to the other side if Charlie hadn’t grabbed my arms and pulled them behind my back. “Whoa, little bro.”
My breath heaved. I still heard music even though the radio was silent. Charlie let me go, and I looked at my bloody, dusty knuckles. Red smears painted parts of the discarded drywall.
“You want to do the rest?” Charlie asked. “You’d have it done in half the time it’d take me.” He laughed. I didn’t.
My arms were weak and my shoulders sore, but they weren’t what hurt worst. Diego had made me happy these last few weeks, but it wasn’t enough. I thought about Jesse looking down on me, seeing me with Diego. Teenage boys who are dead probably can’t masturbate, and it made me sad to think about Jesse stuck in the afterlife, lonely, frustrated, and unable to get off. I loved him, and I just don’t know if a world without Jesse Franklin is worth saving. Either way, I only have thirty-nine days to decide. “Thanks,” I said to Charlie, and stumbled toward the door.
“Hey, bro,” Charlie called after me. “You’re not just gonna be an uncle. You’re gonna be a godfather, too.”
22 December 2015
From Earth, Venus is a beacon in the night sky, beautiful and bright. However, the surface of the planet is a scorching 467 degrees Celsius, the ground is barren and rocky, and clouds of sulfuric acid roam the atmosphere. Much like my face.
Looking in the mirror, I could identity every disgusting, clogged pore, every hair out of place, every imperfection on my imperfect body. I hated how my nipples were sort of oval, and my belly button was deeper than Krubera Cave. I’d spent an hour brushing my teeth and scrubbing away blackheads and digging Q-tips into all my face holes. I even paid special attention to the slum areas, not that I expected Diego to visit them. So far, he’d kept his hands in the touristy regions, showing a restraint Marcus never had. He respected that I still had no idea what we were doing.
After pulling every piece of clothing I owned out of my closet and drawers, I settled on my best jeans and a button-down shirt my mom had bought me that still had the tags on it. I felt like a little boy in his father’s suit, a fraud everyone could see through.
Mom whistled when I walked into the living room. She was smoking and drinking and watching Bunker with the volume muted so she could read. It must have been her day off from the restaurant because she was still wearing her pajamas. “Don’t you look nice?”
“Whatever.”
“I’m serious, Henry. You’ve grown into a handsome young man.”
“You’re my mom; you’re contractually obligated to say that.” There’s probably be a genetic reason every mother believes her son to be the apex of male beauty. I suppose if they didn’t, they’d smother the ugly ones, and the human race would have died out or been much more attractive as a result.
Mom flicked her ash into the ashtray. “Well, yes, but for a while, your father and I were worried you were never going to grow out of your ugly phase.”
“Mom!”
“What? You had those knobby knees, and your front teeth were so big, you could barely shut your mouth.” I liked seeing her laugh, even if it was at my expense. “Who are you dressed up for?”
“I’m hanging out with Diego. You met him.” I didn’t want to remind her that she’d met him over Thanksgiving break because I’d disappeared.
Mom raised her eyebrow. “You two have been spending an awful lot of time together. Do we need to have the talk?”
“Jesus, no. We’re not even dating.” I held up my hands and backed toward the door.
“Sex is nothing to be ashamed of, Henry, and I want you to be informed. We should have had this discussion sooner.”
My face was burning, and I wanted to escape, but Diego wasn’t going to pick me up for another ten minutes. “I’m not sleeping with Diego,” I said. “And anyway, I already know about that stuff.”
Mom looked skeptical. “I know you’ve seen it on those Web sites you visit—”
“Oh my God! Mom! Have you been going through my computer?”
“Only to make sure you weren’t experimenting with drugs or planning to shoot up your school.”
“That’s an invasion of privacy!”
Mom took a drag from her cigarette and blew the smoke at me dismissively. “Don’t be so uptight, Henry. Compared to Charlie, you’re pretty vanilla.” She shuddered.
The thought of my mother knowing what kind of porn Charlie and I browsed was mortifying, and I couldn’t get out of the house quickly enough. Waiting outside was preferable. Having needles driven into my eyeballs would have been preferable. “Please stop.”
“I want you to be happy. You know that right, Henry?”
To be honest, it never occurred to me that my mother was concerned about my happiness. My safety, yes, but not my happiness. It seems obvious now, but before she said it, I wouldn’t have put it at the top of a list of things my mother wanted for me. “I’m trying.”
“That’s what worries me.”
“Why?”
Mom stubbed out her cigarette. “Because a smart, handsome boy like you shouldn’t have to try so hard to be happy.”
“I’ll be back by eleven,” I said, and dashed out the door.
• • •
Diego’s hand lingered on mine when he passed me the popcorn. His fingers were butter-slick and warm. He smiled, looking far less nervous than I felt. The movie theater was mostly empty, which only amped up my anxiety. Diego had convinced me to let him take me on an actual date, arguing that it wouldn’t have to mean anything and that it would be a good way to see what I was missing out on. He wore me down and I finally agreed, but only to prove to him that it was a disastrous idea.
“What’s the name of this movie again?”
“Dino
and July,” Diego said. “It’s about a guy whose family owns a funeral home, and this girl he has a crush on dies but then comes back to life and helps him become cool. Sort of like Cyrano de Bergerac meets Pygmalion. With a zombie.”
“Sounds . . . interesting.”
“It got good reviews.”
I grabbed a handful of popcorn, immediately regretting it. What if my breath smelled like butter and salt? I dropped the popcorn and sipped my soda instead.
“Any word from your slug friends?”
After reading to Diego from my journal, I felt less like a freak discussing the aliens with him, though they still weren’t my favorite conversation topic. “Not since the barbecue.”
“Is that strange?”
“I’ve gone a whole year without being abducted before, but January twenty-ninth is barely a month from now, so you’d think they’d want to give me plenty of opportunities to push the button.”
“Would you? Press it?”
It should have been an easy answer. It was true that I didn’t want to live in a world without Jesse—I’m not sure any of us deserved to live in a world where Jesse Franklin felt like killing himself was the only solution—and if I didn’t press the button, I’d never have to worry about Diego leaving me like Jesse and my father had, Charlie and Zooey wouldn’t have to watch their daughter grow up in an increasingly hostile world, Nana wouldn’t have to lose her memories, and Mom wouldn’t be so sad anymore. If I didn’t press the button, the future would never disappoint any of us. But, despite how hard I fought him, Diego made me curious about my future. About our future together.
“I don’t know,” I said. Before I could explain, laughter echoed through the theater as a group of people rounded the corner at the front. I recognized Marcus immediately. “Shit.” I slid down in my seat.
“What?” Diego craned his neck. Marcus was with Adrian, and they each had their arm around a different girl. I think one of the girls was Maya Anderson, but I couldn’t place the other.
I kept still and quiet, hoping to remain invisible, but Marcus zeroed in on me like I was tagged with a tracker and yelled, “Look, it’s Space Boy! And he brought his girlfriend. That’s one ugly bitch, Space Boy.” Adrian and the girls cracked up and took seats a few rows ahead of us, but Marcus lingered in the aisle. His clothes were winkled and his cheeks were flushed. I could practically smell the booze on him.
We Are the Ants Page 20
