He Started It

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He Started It Page 11

by Downing, Samantha


  ‘Going on? What do you mean, going on?’ he said.

  ‘I mean, is Tracy okay?’

  ‘What do you mean, is she okay?’

  ‘You screwed up again, didn’t you?’ I said. He started to answer with another question so I cut him off. ‘Just tell me.’

  ‘I didn’t screw up on purpose,’ Eddie said.

  I hung up, not bothering to hear the details, already knowing Tracy had become That Woman. The one who searches through her partner’s things because she thinks he’s up to something. Because she knows he’s up to something. And Tracy was right.

  At the moment, Eddie is listening to two alien watchers talk about all the ships they’ve seen. Felix, back from bathroom, is with them. I glance at the pockets of his khakis, looking for the outline of a cigarette box. Don’t see one.

  I barge in, too tired to be polite. ‘Can I get the car keys?’ I say. ‘I have to get something.’

  He hands them over and says, ‘Be careful.’

  It sounds patronizing. Has he always been patronizing and I just never realized it?

  Maybe.

  Yes, I search through Felix’s things. Again. This time I find what I’m looking for. Half a pack of cigarettes and a plastic lighter, old enough to have scratches. Not a one-time thing – he has a habit. Don’t know how I’ve missed it.

  When I get over the shock, I feel horrible. Not because of him, because of me. I’m out here searching through his things because I couldn’t control myself. Because I couldn’t get this cigarette out of my mind, so I searched until I found proof and it doesn’t matter that I had to invade his privacy. I did it anyway.

  Why didn’t I go outside and confront him while he was smoking? Why wait until I had to sneak around, rooting through his bags?

  I know why. It’s because I’ve become the kind of wife I hate.

  DAY, DATE, BLAH BLAH.

  What would happen if it suddenly started raining puppies and kittens?

  What the hell kind of question is this? They would all die and that’s horrible.

  Really, I’ve got no time for this. I’m a little busy running this road trip, and these questions are pretty stupid. But when I get home I’m going to let the publisher of this journal know it’s a piece of crap.

  We get a hotel room about five miles away from the watchtower. The name is different and it’s been remodeled, but at first I think it’s the same place we stayed the first time. I realize it’s not when I look out the window. It’s on the wrong side of the road.

  Portia is with us tonight, though she drops off her stuff and leaves right away. She’s been acting odd since we got here, but I guess we all are at this point.

  It’s late afternoon, giving us time to rest and eat before going back to see the UFOs at night like we did last time. Nikki made us go late, after midnight, because she figured the aliens waited until most people were asleep. This time we’ll go after dinner.

  Felix wants to nap. I go for a walk.

  On the other side of the road, there’s a general store. That’s what it’s called: Paula’s General Store. It has a little bit of everything, from food to paper towels, air filters to scissors. And cigarettes. They have generic, name brand, and e-cigarettes, along with the nicotine gum, lozenges, and patches. Paula’s is a one-stop shop for all things nicotine.

  I buy three packs of Felix’s brand and three lighters, all blue plastic. The purchase makes me angry. Cigarettes are more expensive than I realized. Felix has no business spending this kind of money on them, especially if it might cost him his job.

  Out behind the store, I open a pack, take out a couple of cigarettes, and throw them away. Next I put all three lighters on the ground and rub them against the cement, scratching them up. Some guy sees me and watches. Maybe thinking I’m crazy, maybe trying to figure out what I’m doing. I smile at him and he walks away.

  When I’m done, I put everything in my bag and go back to the motel. Portia is outside talking to Krista.

  ‘Where’d you go?’ Krista says.

  ‘Across the road. There’s a general store over there.’

  Portia snorts. ‘Good shopping?’

  ‘They have Flaky Flix cookies,’ I say.

  ‘Shut up.’

  I shrug.

  ‘No one has Flaky Flix. They don’t make them anymore,’ Portia says.

  ‘What are Flaky Flix?’ Krista says. Just as she speaks, Eddie comes out of their motel room. His hair is wet and he’s wearing a clean T-shirt. I bet it took him five minutes to look that fresh and clean.

  ‘Flaky Flix?’ he says. ‘You’re talking about Flaky Flix?’

  ‘Beth claims the store across the road has them,’ Portia says.

  Now I’m caught, because Eddie knows it can’t be true. He looks at me and shakes his head, then proceeds to spout off the history of Mother’s brand Flaky Flix cookies, right down to the date they were discontinued.

  Portia glares at me. ‘Liar.’

  ‘So sue me,’ I say.

  In our world, Flaky Flix were no joke – least of all to our mother. Those cookies were one of the few things she loved.

  Nikki discovered them first. She found half a pack of Flaky Flix cookies at the top of a kitchen cabinet. It was summer and we were bored, so we set up a little sting operation to catch whoever was eating the hidden cookies.

  ‘Count how many are left,’ Nikki said, handing me the package.

  I was about eight years old. Nikki was thirteen and always gave the orders and I always obeyed. I counted seventeen cookies. She counted them herself and confirmed.

  ‘We have to set up a schedule,’ she said. ‘After dinner, we’ll keep track of who comes and goes and try to count the cookies in between.’

  This was a little trick we learned from Mom. A few years earlier, she set up a similar trap to figure out who was messing with the garden figures she had placed around the backyard. We all said it wasn’t us, it must be the deer or possums or some other wild animal. She didn’t believe it, and she was right not to. Her little trap with a video camera caught Eddie knocking the figures over and crushing the flowers underneath.

  We used a similar plan, although we didn’t have a camera so we had to take turns watching in real time.

  One evening, I was sitting in the family room when Nikki waved at me from the hallway. She was practically jumping up and down, and we both ran upstairs.

  Now that she was thirteen, her room was in transition. Part child, part teenager. The lavender she used to love had made way for her new colors, black and red, and her toys were being replaced by clothes, rock band posters, and fashion magazines. She had stopped inviting me in so often. Tonight was special.

  ‘Mom,’ she said. ‘It’s Mom.’

  ‘No way.’

  ‘Way.’ Her eyes were so bright they could’ve lit up the whole house. ‘We have to mess with her.’

  I shook my head. No one made Mom angry on purpose, that was an unspoken rule in our house. ‘We’ll get in trouble,’ I said.

  ‘Oh come on.’

  ‘We can’t.’

  ‘Stop being a baby,’ Nikki said.

  I didn’t want to be a baby. More importantly, I didn’t want Nikki to think of me as one. It was also because the cookies were our secret. Eddie didn’t know, and Portia was only two years old. This was ours.

  Nikki wanted to do to Mom what she had done to Eddie. Mom messed with him the same way, only hers was even worse. She stomped on one of the garden figures and on her flowers, leaving behind giant fake footprints to make him believe there was a wild animal in the backyard. His reaction was caught on camera, and it became one of our favorite holiday videos.

  Nikki’s plan wasn’t nearly as bad. All we did was move the cookies to the same shelf but in a different cabinet. At first, anyway. Another time we put them on top of the refrigerator, then inside the freezer. Watching Mom’s reaction was the best part – if we were lucky enough to catch it.

  I saw her find the cookies in the fre
ezer, and it felt like I could see what she was thinking just from the expression on her face. Surprised at first, then confused. She picked up the package and opened the cabinet where they were supposed to be. More surprise at the empty top shelf. Finally, her brow furrowed hard, causing so many wrinkles. Her mouth turned down, her lips pursed.

  Worried. So worried. I could almost see her wonder if she had put the cookies in the freezer but didn’t remember doing it.

  I ran upstairs to tell Nikki and we both laughed. It was so rare to fool Mom. Unheard of, actually.

  Our game didn’t last long, though. Summer ended and we went back to school, and Nikki no longer wanted anything to do with me or Mom or anyone else at home. No, I didn’t know the word gaslighting. I didn’t know there was a name for what we were doing or for what Mom did to Eddie.

  I do, however, know I’m about to do the same thing to my husband. And yes, it’s to punish him for lying.

  Anyone who claims they never gaslight their spouse is lying.

  I’m still looking for the pickup truck every chance I get, but there’s been no sign of it, not since we tried to confront them on the road. Eddie and Felix have no problem taking credit for getting rid of them, either.

  Eddie first brings it up at dinner and the conversation continues at the watchtower. He and Felix continue to tell whoever will listen, including a group of younger guys who stopped by while on their own road trip. They’re half drunk and ready for a good story. Eddie and Felix are full-on drunk and ready to tell it.

  ‘Ever been to Alabama?’ Felix says. ‘Because that’s where these guys are from. Swear to God, they followed us all the way from there.’

  ‘What’d you do?’ one asks.

  ‘They ran us off the road. When we called them on it, they got pissed.’

  Eddie nods his head, confirming this is correct. Portia rolls her eyes but doesn’t mention that their story isn’t correct. She confronted them.

  ‘That right?’ one of the guys says. He’s a big, athletic guy with a beard and he’s wearing a lacrosse shirt from Clemson.

  ‘That’s right,’ Eddie says.

  ‘Seems a little weird they would follow you for something like that.’

  ‘Right?’ Felix says. ‘That’s what I thought until I saw them.’

  ‘They put nails in our tire,’ Eddie says. He sounds like he’s bragging about it. ‘And they stole our starter.’

  ‘Starter relay,’ Felix says.

  ‘Exactly, the starter relay,’ Eddie says.

  Clemson doesn’t look convinced. ‘Huh.’

  His friends, who had been rather enthusiastic about this story, go quiet.

  ‘Cool story, bro,’ Clemson says. He turns away from us, his eyes scanning the rest of the platform.

  For a second, I think Eddie is going to let this go. Then I remember who he is. Years ago, he was that Clemson kid, only his shirt said Duke.

  ‘Come on,’ I say. ‘Let’s find some aliens.’

  ‘You think I’m bullshitting you,’ Eddie says to Clemson.

  ‘No, actually. I think if you were bullshitting you would’ve come up with a better story.’

  Ouch.

  ‘Cool, cool,’ Felix says. ‘Have a good night, guys.’ He leads Eddie to the other side of the platform.

  The Clemson kid turns to me. ‘That guy your husband?’

  ‘Brother. The blond one is my husband.’

  ‘Your brother’s a bad liar.’

  He is, no doubt about it. ‘And you’re an asshole,’ I say.

  Clemson’s eyebrows shoot up. ‘Wow, okay. Who hurt you?’

  ‘Does it matter?’

  Clemson turns to Portia. She is drinking a soda can of vodka and sprite and doesn’t look at him. He checks her out in a blatant way, and he takes a step toward her.

  He starts to introduce himself. ‘My name –’

  ‘No,’ Portia says.

  ‘Can I at least –’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Would it help –’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Wow.’ Clemson shakes his head. Laughs. His friends do as well. ‘A whole family of assholes.’

  ‘Right?’ another guy says.

  ‘I’m starting to believe the story about those guys following you. Must have done something to deserve it.’ He walks off, his friends follow.

  Eddie. He really is an asshole, especially when he’s drunk. All of a sudden he’s back, so is Felix, and neither one looks happy. ‘Now you’re hassling my sisters?’ Eddie says.

  Clemson turns. Smiles. ‘I’m not hassling anyone, old man.’

  This is when I realize the vortexes and the watchtower really do work. We’ve become time travelers, sent right back to high school. On cue, our head cheerleader appears.

  ‘What’s going on?’ Krista says. Not sober. Drinking the same thing as Portia, only hers has Diet Sprite.

  ‘Nothing,’ I say.

  ‘Actually, these guys are hassling Beth and Portia,’ Felix says.

  Oh no, Felix. No, no, no.

  Eddie snorts. ‘That’s because they’re Neanderthals. I mean, they go to Clemson.’

  ‘Excuse me?’ Clemson says. ‘Where did you –’

  ‘Duke. I went to Duke.’

  Clemson laughs. ‘Well, it all makes sense now. I’ve heard you Duke boys are all inbred.’

  The first punch is thrown by Eddie, which is no surprise. His ego – and his anger – always get the best of him, drunk or not. Insulting his alma mater is the easiest way to make Eddie mad enough to hit someone.

  But against Clemson, he doesn’t throw the last punch.

  The fight ends when a large man steps in and says ‘Chill out’ in a voice that makes everyone stop. Clemson’s friends stop cheering him on, Krista stops screaming, and I stop glaring at Felix long enough to realize those police sirens in the background aren’t coming from a TV.

  I can’t blame whoever called them. The watchtower is a place to look for UFOs, not get in a bar fight. And I can’t blame the police officers for being so pissed off, considering it’s Sunday and the Broncos game is on.

  Eddie is arrested, along with the Clemson kid. He’s more surprised than any of us. The rest of us go to the tiny local police station and sit in the lobby, waiting to pay whatever the bond is. I turn to Clemson’s friends because I just can’t help myself.

  ‘Hard to believe this is the first time your friend’s mouth has gotten him arrested,’ I say.

  Felix’s jaw drops. So do Clemson’s friends’. One of them, another guy with a beard, calls me a bitch.

  I snort. ‘Now I see why the other guy is your leader.’

  ‘We don’t have a leader.’

  ‘Oh, okay. Whatever you say.’

  Portia laughs. Sometimes we are a family of assholes.

  You can blame that on Grandpa, he started it.

  The night ends exactly as it should: with Eddie in jail.

  We go to bail him out, and we’re met by one of the pissed-off patrolmen who arrested Eddie and Clemson. He’s smiling.

  ‘Come back in the morning,’ he says. ‘No one’s getting out before a judge sets bail.’

  One of the Clemson guys shakes his head and says, ‘We are so screwed.’

  ‘Call a lawyer,’ another says.

  ‘You call one.’

  When we all walk out of the station, they’re still arguing about whether or not to call.

  Krista is quiet. Too quiet. So it’s not surprising when she bursts into tears on the way back to the motel. I’m in the front seat, the designated driver, and Felix is next to me. Krista is in the back with Portia, who makes a halfhearted attempt to comfort her sister-in-law.

  ‘He’ll be out tomorrow,’ Portia says. ‘It’s no big thing, really. He’ll just have to pay a fine.’

  Krista cries harder. Portia looks at me and shrugs. Felix chooses this moment to keep his mouth shut.

  ‘Eddie will be fine,’ I say.

  ‘I know,’ she says, gasping for air. ‘I kn
ow he’ll be fine. He’s always fine.’

  I say nothing, sensing it isn’t the time to mention this isn’t the worst thing Eddie has ever done.

  When I drive up to the motel, Krista takes a deep breath and pulls herself together. ‘I just can’t believe I married such an asshole.’

  Ah.

  Well, shit.

  ‘Yeah,’ Portia says. ‘Eddie is that.’

  Krista laughs a little. ‘Yeah.’

  Before we get out of the car, I look at Portia in the rearview mirror. She nods.

  ‘Hey, I’ll stay in your room tonight,’ she says to Krista.

  ‘Oh, you don’t have to.’

  Felix steps in. ‘I think that’s a good idea. With that truck and all and what’s happened to the car, it’s better that none of us are alone. Just in case.’

  Can’t disagree with that.

  Portia comes to our room to get her bag. We’re both pissed off at Eddie. I can see it in her eyes and feel it in my heart, but ever since Krista started crying we’ve kept our mouths shut. I wish her luck. She rolls her eyes.

  Felix is already in the bathroom, and I remember the lighter hidden in there. Bet he’s about to find it.

  What’s the one thing you would do differently if you could?

  I probably wouldn’t have come to this UFO place, because there’s nothing here to see. It’s all a big letdown and that sucks. Not that I believe in UFOs, I just thought we’d see something that could be a UFO and that would’ve been exciting enough. Didn’t happen.

  But I don’t regret taking over this trip, and I sure as hell don’t regret drugging up Grandpa. He deserves it. All of it, and more.

  Felix stays in that bathroom for a while. I figured he would, so I settle in by the window and check Instagram. He hasn’t posted anything today, which makes me a little nervous. I wish I could check on him, but I’m not in Florida.

  That’s when I remember Eddie is supposed to be watching the car tonight. Can’t do that from jail.

  I imagine Felix in the bathroom, wondering how his lighter ended up on the floor by the toilet.

  Did it fall out of my pocket? Did I put it IN my pocket? I thought it was in my bag.

 

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