Something Like Thunder

by Jay Bell

  Nathaniel crossed his arms over his chest. “Yeah, you are. How long has this been going on? No, I can guess that. How far has it gone? That’s what I want to know.”

  Rebecca averted her eyes.

  “Congratulations,” Nathaniel said coldly. “You finally lost your virginity. I hope it was everything you dreamed it would be.”

  He slammed the door, went back to his bed, and pounded the mattress with his fist. It didn’t make him feel better, but it siphoned off just enough anger to allow him to cry a little. He rubbed at his eyes harshly, focusing on the pain, which wasn’t difficult to do. A few minutes later, he heard the door behind him open.

  “I was lonely,” she said. “Not because you were busy. I’ve been lonely since high school. I wanted what everyone but me seems to have.”

  “You wanted what I had,” Nathaniel said. “Now you’ve got it.”

  “I don’t think I do. He loves you.”

  “He doesn’t know what love is,” Nathaniel spat. “Don’t talk to me about him. Understand? We’re through!”

  Rebecca’s eyes went wide. “Do you mean you and Caesar? Or you and me?”

  “Both!” he shouted. “Do you really think I’m going to be your friend after this? I trusted you with everything. More than I’ve trusted anyone else. Maybe I can’t kiss you or fuck you, but I gave you everything I could! And what did you do?”

  “I’m sorry,” Rebecca whispered.

  “I don’t care. Remember how I always felt in Houston, how I was scared to go home because I didn’t want my brother to hurt me? Guess what? I’m right back there again. This is my home, and I no longer feel safe because you hurt me in a way I never dreamed possible. I’d rather live with Dwight. Seriously! I’d rather get the shit beat out of me every day than spend another second here with you.”

  “I’ll move out,” Rebecca said, her voice shaking.

  Nathaniel turned his back on her. “I can’t afford the place alone. Neither can you. Caesar can move in and I’ll find somewhere else. Hell, maybe I’ll take his stupid dorm room.”

  “I don’t want to live with him,” Rebecca said. “I don’t even know if I want to see him again.”

  “You’d better!” Nathaniel spun around. “You’d better be so fucking in love with him that you lose control when he’s around. Otherwise it makes what you did even more screwed up.” He looked at her questioningly, his chest heaving. “Well? Do you love him?”

  Rebecca shook her head. “I don’t know.”

  “Get out.”

  “Nathaniel—”

  “Get. Out. Don’t speak to me, don’t even look at me. Until I figure out where to go, I’m a ghost.” His voice cracked. “I’m dead and buried.”

  Rebecca was on the verge of tears again, so he stood and marched toward her. He wouldn’t have done anything, would have stopped short had she stood her ground. Thankfully she stepped back enough that he was able to slam the door and lock it. Then he returned to his bed, lay flat on his stomach, and covered his head with his arms, willing this all to be over.

  * * * * *

  Nathaniel left the room a changed man. He had barely slept during the night, but he felt strangely rested. In the dark of his room he had gathered all the pieces, all the shattered fragments of his identity and emotions. Then he put them back together again, but not in the same order. He assembled for himself a suit of armor, cold and impenetrable. No matter what he still felt inside, the fire was now contained within a furnace. He did this to survive, because he knew the worst was yet to come.

  Over the next few days he walked around the apartment as if nothing had happened. He relaxed on the couch and watched TV or ate his bowl of cereal while sitting there in the morning. Rebecca tried talking to him on more than one occasion, but it didn’t matter. She was no longer of any consequence to him. Nathaniel had been wrong: He wasn’t the ghost, she was, and he had exorcised her from his heart. That left only one.

  Wednesday night. Rebecca was off playing tutor. Nathaniel sat on the couch looking at the TV, a six-pack waiting for him on the coffee table. Music videos were on the screen, but the volume was turned down completely, mouths moving without making a sound, bodies shaking to a rhythm he couldn’t hear.

  Someone knocked on the door. He ignored it. When a key scratched into the lock and the door opened, he didn’t show any surprise as Caesar came in and stood there uncertainly. Nathaniel refused to look at him, even though his presence caused barely-healed wounds to tear open again.

  “Rebecca is worried about you,” Caesar said.

  No words, no matter how carefully chosen, would have made a difference. But starting with her name was the worst possible strategy.

  “I’m worried too,” Caesar added. He shut the door and came a few paces closer. “I’m sorry. I know it doesn’t matter. I hurt you, and I don’t deserve to be with you.”

  “You aren’t with me,” Nathaniel murmured, attention still on the television.

  “Fair enough. I just…” Caesar’s voice faltered. “I wish there was something I could do. I don’t want you to be hurt or messed up just because I am. I want you to be okay, and I guess staying away is my only option, but I want you to know that I love you. Anyone would be crazy not to. Someday you’re going to meet an amazing man, and he’s going to be really nice and appreciate you and not make stupid mistakes like I did. He’s going to love you, and it’s going to be perfect because that’s what you deserve. I’m going now, but I wanted to say thank you for loving me. I’m just sorry that—”

  “I didn’t love you.” Nathaniel turned his head, making eye contact for the first time. “I never loved you. When we first met, I needed somewhere else to live. That didn’t work out, but you suck good dick, so I kept you around. When I was bored, you were there.”

  “That’s not true,” Caesar said, shaking his head. “You just want to hurt me.”

  “I just want you to leave,” Nathaniel said calmly. “Once Kenneth started blowing me, I realized I could do better. And I have.” His smile was cold. “A few times.”

  “Okay,” Caesar said, lip trembling. “I guess I deserve that, but I still—”

  Nathaniel grabbed the remote and cranked up the volume until it was maxed out and the overwhelmed speakers were vibrating with crackling sound. He resumed staring at the screen, keeping his attention there until from the corner of his eye he saw Caesar turn and leave. Then Nathaniel lowered the volume and turned off the television. A moment later he threw the remote at the wall. Then he grabbed his first beer, twisted off the cap, and leaned back, bringing the bottle to his lips.

  * * * * *

  Nathaniel walked the paths of Amistad Park, retracing his steps over and over again. The Yale-New Haven Psychiatric Hospital was just across the street. As mind-bending as the past few weeks had been, he was tempted to check himself in. These days he often explored new sections of the campus, lingering in areas like the Medical Center because of the reduced risk of running into anyone he knew. The sun was setting and once again, Nathaniel dreaded the idea of going home. So often Rebecca would show up, trying to make peace or pretend nothing catastrophic had happened. On one occasion Caesar had been waiting for him in the parking lot, but Nathaniel brushed by him like celebrities did paparazzi. He kept his composure in these situations, but each challenged his resolve to remain stoic.

  He hated the apartment. Hated the familiar areas of campus. Hated anywhere memories had been made with Rebecca and Caesar. This was another reason why he wandered to unfamiliar locations these days, but lately even that wasn’t enough. He didn’t want to return home. And yet, that’s exactly what he desired most. Nathaniel dug his phone from his pocket, selected a name, and stopped pacing until he heard a familiar voice.

  “Hi, honey!” his mother said. “How are you?”

  “Fine.” Nathaniel tried to keep his tone steady. “Spring break is next week.”

  “I’ll bet you’re excited. You’re under a lot of stress. I can hear it in your voice
.”

  “Can you fly me home?” he blurted out.

  “For spring break?” Star asked after a moment’s hesitation. “Wouldn’t you prefer Miami? Or maybe Las Vegas?”

  “I want to come home. I could take my car, but the drive is crazy long and I’ll be on my own.”

  “Did something happen? Are you okay?”

  “Yeah.” Nathaniel started pacing again. “Just homesick. The airfare can count as my birthday present.”

  “It’s a little early for that.” His mother tried to laugh, but her concern won out. “We’ll fly you home. Let me grab a calendar and you can tell me your dates.”

  The knowledge that he would soon escape made the remaining time bearable. When taking the train to the Newark airport, he braced for the worst, fearing something—anything—would keep him from boarding his flight. But he made it, watching from his cramped window seat as Connecticut sank away and disappeared beneath the clouds. Then he exhaled, feeling more at ease than he had for weeks.

  By the time he landed in Houston and was standing at the luggage carousel, he wasn’t exactly grinning at his fellow passengers. At least he felt secure, like he could let down his guard, which made it all the more ironic that a guard stopped him just as he was leaving. Or an officer of some sort.

  “Would you mind setting down your bags?” the man said. He smiled reassuringly, raising the leash he was holding. “Just a training exercise.”

  Nathaniel looked down at a… dog? The creature was the right shape and size, but was missing chunks of fur all over its body, some sort of rash filling in the bare patches. Its blue eyes were clear and alert, but other than that, the animal appeared contagious. Currently it was sniffing his suitcase.

  “Please, sir. The bag.”

  Nathaniel shrugged and set the duffel bag on the floor. The dog hopped over to it excitedly, tail wagging as it circled and sniffed.

  “There’s half a sandwich in there,” Nathaniel said without much interest. “Feel free to confiscate it.”

  “No, it’s fine. Come along, Bonkers.” The officer tugged on the leash, but the dog was still interested in the bag. So interested that he lifted a leg, and a yellow arc of urine soaked the cloth.

  “Hey!” Nathaniel shouted.

  “Bonkers!” The officer yanked, dragging away the dog, who didn’t stop peeing for a few more seconds. “I’m sorry!”

  “It’s fine,” Nathaniel grunted.

  “There’s a restroom just over there,” the officer said, picking up the bag and moving in that direction. “We’ll get this rinsed off, and it’ll be like new!”

  Nathaniel sincerely doubted that. He followed the officer and the dog, who bounded along happily. Once in the restroom, the officer was wetting paper towels in the sink when the dog broke loose, scurrying around the restroom and bumping into a man at the urinal, triggering another pee-related accident. Nathaniel snorted and tried not to laugh. He stepped on the leash so the dog couldn’t escape out the door.

  “No good deed goes unpunished!” the officer said, shaking his head. “He’s not the right breed to be a sniffer dog, but one of the local shelters asked us to help train some of their problem cases. Better than them being put down, but of course they didn’t give us any of the smart ones. God forbid!”

  Nathaniel bent over and took the leash. Bonkers wagged his tail and jumped on him, probably hoping to knock him over, but Nathaniel was a lot bigger than the dog. The beast bounced against him ineffectually, then strained against the leash to reach the nearest urinal where he tried to drink the water.

  “I think he might have brain damage,” Nathaniel said.

  “That would explain a lot. Here.” The officer thrust out Nathaniel’s bag. Now it was even wetter, with shreds of paper towel stuck to the damp parts.

  “Gee, thanks.” Nathaniel offered the leash in exchange. “This belongs to you.”

  “Not for long. He’s going back to the shelter where he’ll meet his maker. At least he’ll get two weeks of vacation before he has to face reality.”

  “I know the feeling,” Nathaniel replied.

  They left the restroom, the officer walking off in a different direction, perhaps in search of his next victim. Nathaniel glanced over his shoulder at the dog, who was looking back at him, tail wagging. He might be the ugliest creature ever, but the eyes were youthful, the open mouth like a goofy smile. Was he still a puppy? Nathaniel felt a pang of sympathy, knowing how life could deal shitty cards at times. Then he turned and left the airport, already spotting a familiar car pulling up to the curb. A second later, his mom hopped out of the passenger side and ran to embrace him. He was home again, and this time, it sure felt good.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Hollow. Nathaniel spent the better part of two weeks trying to fill the void inside. Often this meant sitting around the house watching movies, letting the plight of each character supersede his own. His mother seemed to sense his situation and tried to help by dragging him out for shopping or lunches, even insisting once that they both needed makeovers. This meant a trip to the stylist for a haircut followed by a pedicure. Nathaniel didn’t enjoy the experience, but didn’t act as despondent when around his mother. That he saved for when he was alone in his old room, stretched out on the bed, staring up at a blank ceiling.

  In a strange sort of way, he did find contentment. Moping around his parents’ house was better than the emotional mess he’d left in Connecticut. But of course Thomas Wolfe was right. You can’t go home again. Not without being reminded of why you left in the first place.

  Dwight was coming over for dinner. It would be too public for any sort of trouble. Nathaniel wouldn’t share a few beers with his brother afterwards. Not this time. Dwight managed to surprise him anyway. He barged into the front room, voice loud as he greeted Nathaniel, breath acrid from alcohol.

  “Hey, it’s the college graduate! Mom’s golden boy.”

  Nathaniel didn’t risk correcting him. He remained perfectly still when Dwight ruffled his hair, reassured that his parents, Sheila, and the baby were present. Only when Dwight threw an arm around his neck, pulling him down into a headlock, did Nathaniel react. He pulled free and shoved. Hard.

  Dwight stumbled away, his features twisting up in rage. There it was again, after all these years. His family would finally meet the monster! Nathaniel didn’t cower. He felt hungry for confrontation, wanting to punch out some of his frustration.

  “Boys!” their father shouted. “No roughhousing!”

  “Roughhousing?” Nathaniel spat. “Because that’s all this is, right? I’ll be in my room!”

  His family gave him privacy, which he spent pacing, trying to figure out what to do. He couldn’t stay here. Nathaniel knew that already. He’d be fine until spring break was over, but he hated the idea of returning to Yale. The entire experience had been soured. Even if he found a new place to live, the thought of being on campus and running into certain people made him miserable.

  A knock on the door caused him to spin around defensively. Dwight? Then again, so what! Part of him was still itching for a fight. He threw open the door and found a much smaller figure standing there.

  “I brought you dinner,” Sheila said.

  He caught a whiff of the mashed potatoes and fried chicken and took the plate from her. “Thanks. Come on in.”

  Sheila examined the room as she entered, then sat on the corner of the bed. Nathaniel nudged the door shut with his foot, joined her on the mattress, and wasting no time in eating.

  “I knew you’d be hungry,” she said. “Just like your brother. You Courtney boys sure like to chow down!”

  He glared at the mention of Dwight.

  “I know,” Sheila said with a sigh. “He’s been having a rough time lately.”

  Nathaniel chewed and swallowed. “I hope you didn’t let him drive.”

  “Of course not. He doesn’t have a choice.”

  “Meaning?”

  “They didn’t tell you?” She stood and walke
d to a bookshelf that was mostly empty now, except for some old decorations his mother had brought in. Sheila touched a ceramic bird, fingers tracing the intricate pattern of its feathers. “Dwight got arrested a few weeks back for driving while still a little… Um.”

  “Drunk driving,” Nathaniel said.

  Sheila nodded. “He spent five days in jail and was fined enough to clear out our bank account. His license is suspended for six months too, but despite all that, I was happy. I honestly thought this would be his wakeup call.” She turned to face him. “I should have known better. I’ve seen it all before, thanks to my parents, but I thought… I love your brother. When I was little I always wished I could change my parents. Make them better. Maybe I saw them in Dwight and thought I could finally be the little girl who fixes the world.” She shook her head. “He needs help. I’ll make sure he gets it.”

  Nathaniel finished another bite. “You know,” he said eventually, “for someone who grew up with alcoholic parents, you sure seem well-adjusted.”

  Sheila appeared unconvinced. “Is that what you see when you look at me? Well-adjusted people don’t marry an equally dysfunctional version of their father.”

  “We all marry our parents,” Nathaniel said. “Figuratively speaking.”

  Sheila scrunched up her nose. “I always hated that idea.”

  “Yeah, me too.”

  “Do you think it’s true?”

  “I hope not.” They shared a laugh before he continued. “What I mean is that you seem happy. You had a rough childhood. I did too, but you seem way more together than me.”

  “You’re not happy?”

  He shrugged, not wanting to answer the question.

  “I was loved,” Sheila said. “Maybe not by my parents. Not in the way I wanted to be, but I had Missy.”

  “Missy?”

  Sheila nodded and took out her phone, navigating screens and finally holding up an image of a beagle sitting in the grass. “There’s no better cure for a broken heart than a dog. Anytime I was hurt, she was there. The nights when my mom and dad didn’t come home, I wasn’t alone because Missy was with me. She loved me unconditionally. I still wanted normal parents like my friends had, but I never felt unloved.” She put the phone back in her pocket, looking sheepish. “Sounds stupid, doesn’t it?”