by Katie George
Chapter Twelve
Joel
WHEN JOEL LEFT Sarah’s house, the spectrum of emotions hit him with antigravitational force. He felt like he had floated to space, where everything was numb and made logical sense even through the amazing chaos. Joel wanted to punch something, or smoke weed, or do something stupid. Heck, he even wanted Brie’s comforting hand on his back. Yet none of these things were what he did.
He found himself at Paradiso Bay, where he parked his car and joined the beach-goers in the afternoon sun. The water was a perfect azure, and the sky matched its authenticity, but Joel’s heart was a roar like the ocean. He sat on the tan sand, dropping a few granules from a dune, feeling as they returned downward.
Nothing happened for a few minutes. He sat observing the lazy folks camped under bright pink umbrellas, children running about, a cluster of teenagers sculpting a sand castle. Usually he came here with a group of friends. This was the first time he had come here alone.
It was a remedy.
He questioned his actions. He had become someone who hid the truth. His father hated his guts, and his mother questioned his judgment. His sister was turning out like him, an arrogant jerk, and a fool. He strung both girls and guys along, like he could buy them with his presence. It hurt him that he enjoyed this behavior. It made him cringe, and it created a fiery pit of disgust deep within his soul.
But did he even want to change?
The truth was he did like who he was. He liked the popularity. But he hated his actions.
Joel stretched out on the beach, lying his head in the sand, rays of sun beating into his forehead. Sweat trickled down his face. When he fell asleep, life didn’t seem as bad.
Two hours later, when he woke with a sunburn on his nose and a massive headache, he started fumbling for his keys. He hadn’t meant to take a nap, and with a quick look around the beach, he found the place empty. He strained his eyes, looking all around, and was spooked by finding absolutely no one.
He stood up, fumbling for his keys, and found them right on the chain. He rushed up the side of beach to where he’d parked his car and heard the whir of a helicopter above him. Upon further examination, the twinkling of blaring sirens entered his ear canals, and Joel began to freak. What happened? Why?
He rushed to his car, his hands feeling shaky. A few stray cars littered the lot, but the people seemed confused and spellbound by the chopper in the sky. He drove to a clump of people on the very edge of the lot and rolled down the window. “What’s going on?”
A woman holding a sleeping toddler shook her head. “We don’t know. A group of ten squad cars passed by not ten minutes ago. We all raced up from the beach, and since then, there’s been a few ambulances and fire trucks, and now the helicopter.”
“This must be big,” Joel swore, feeling his heart rate intensify. “Thanks.”
He sped off, terrified for whatever happened. He went through a checklist. Had someone went on a shooting rampage? A terrorist? Suicide? He wasn’t sure if any of these things were possible in a place like Breezewater, where everyone only oozed illusory happiness.
Joel sped to his neighborhood, finding nothing amiss. No one was home. Part of him screamed, Go inside your house and lock the doors. Instead, he sped off in the direction of Sarah’s neighborhood, hoping—and even praying—nothing had happened since.
When he made it to the rich area, where the hint of sweet quince flew up his nostrils, he envied the flowers, and how they had no human emotion of terror and confusion. He wasn’t thinking properly; the sound of sirens was nowhere near Sarah’s house.
He found his mind again and drove to the whir. His heart fell in his chest when he saw where it was. Then he started crying.
It was his father’s Breezewater cobbler’s shop. And even from a hundred yards away, Joel saw that his mother’s blue Honda Accord was the only car parked in the lot.
EMOTIONS ROILED WITHIN Joel as he rushed to the yellow crime scene tape. He heard his screams like they were someone else’s as the cops yanked him from the premises, even when he cried, “They’re my parents!” He felt his heart lurch when a group of women from church hugged him and squeezed him like a rag doll. He heard his own sobs like he was a foreign invader, between intermittent realizations that his parents might be dead.
Through the wails, he finally was dragged away by a man with a uniform. Maybe he was a cop, Joel wasn’t sure. Everything was a blur, foggy like a camera in an ocean, dragged underneath, no clarity. Joel’s thoughts were groggy too.
“Your father… Shot your mother… He shot himself, too… About a divorce…”
Through the consolations and frowns, Joel felt his body shake as he slumped to the ground. His father had shot his mother. Impossible. That didn’t happen to people like him. His parents loved each other. Yes, they were getting a divorce, but they were not violent. They loved each other. Two people in love didn’t kill each other. They were getting divorced, but there was always a chance they’d reconcile, patch up the family again…
Dad’s porn addiction was done. Mom’s stealing Chloe’s medications was done, too. They loved each other.
Joel’s shredded heart had taken a pounding through the blender. He wanted to hammer his brain into little gray pieces. When they took him away, he couldn’t breathe properly, and eventually, the fog got so bad he didn’t remember anything. Not even Chloe’s shrill, wrenching screams. Not even Alex holding a handful of wildflowers nearby, trying to wake Joel up from this dream. Not even Manny’s punches. Not even Brie, who stood over him and cried, yelling that she loved him.
The only person he wanted was miles away, not in distance, but in actions.
“JOEL! JOEL!”
Joel woke with a start, his body dripping with rough sweat, his heart rate erratic and his blood pressure rising. He started screaming, “Mom! Dad!” but found his only companions were seagulls, the ocean, and Alex McFarland, who stood above him with a copy of Bleak House in his hands.
“Alex! Is it true?”
“Is what true? Man, you’re tripping. I found you asleep on the beach, burnt red as Sebastian the crab, and you’re delirious. What the heck, Joel?”
Joel shook his head, standing up, his head dizzy. “I had the worst nightmare of my life. It was so vivid. My parents murdered each other.”
“That sucks.” Alex tossed him a Fanta from his backpack. He was like that, always carrying things around. He fell down at the spot where Joel’s indentation etched the sand into a human form. Then he pulled out his book and began reading, resting his head on his pack, dangling his toes into the sand. He wore his fast food uniform but didn’t seem to mind.
Joel sat back down, not sure if he was allowed to discuss anything with Alex or not. He settled on, “Why didn’t you pick me up at the cove?” Joel was still shaking from his dream, the perspiration reminding him of his humanity. And how much he hated his actions.
“When I got there, you were gone.”
“I waited for an hour at the least.”
“Did you forget I don’t live here? I just work here. You look terrible. Shaken up. Obviously, you want to tell me about your dream, so just tell it.”
Joel whistled through his teeth. “You were in it, eventually. I woke up and found Breezewater in a state of panic. Then I found out it was over the murder and suicide of Juliet and Ethan Sealet. It was awful.”
“I can imagine. But it’s not real.”
“It felt like it.”
“What’s going on? Something prodded that to seep into your subconscious.”
“Don’t go all New Age on me, Alexei.”
“I hate that nickname.”
“My parents are getting divorced.”
Alex stared out into the sea foam, his fingers closing the book. He sat up. “That blows.”
“I know. It’s stressing me out.”
“You know, it’s not the worst thing ever. If two people don’t love each other anymore, then maybe it’s best they separate.�
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“You don’t believe love conquers and all that ideology?”
“Simply put, it’s propaganda.”
“I want to hear you say that someday, when you’re walking down the aisle to the woman of your dreams.”
Alex shook his head. “I don’t want to get married. It’s never been in my plan.”
“You know what, it’s never really been in my plan, either.”
“Okay, we’re ending this conversation. Guys like us don’t talk about marriage. We’re freaking nineteen-years-old.”
“Practically grandparents.”
“Right. Practically grandparents,” Alex said, seconding his friend. He looked up into the dazzling mirage of sky. “I don’t want kids, either, Joel.”
“You’re the one bringing all this seriousness now.”
“I’m serious. I just want to be me. That’s it.”
“Morbid.”
“But it’s better than lying to lots of people and stringing them on.”
“Ouch.”
“I think it’s time we have this conversation, Joel. You’re a complete idiot, and quite frankly, I hate you. You’re crass, you’re cocky, you’re the guy every other guy thinks he wants to be—but in reality, you’re the guy everybody truly hates. You have serious issues.”
Joel felt like he’d been punched in the gut twenty times. He coughed and responded, “Thanks. Thanks.” He knew it all as truth, but combined with the dream, he felt like he’d been flattened like a pancake.
“I’m saying this because though I hate you, I like you. At times. When you’re being honest to yourself. When you’ve been given a lesson, so to speak.”
“What are you doing?”
“I’m saying that I like you, and think of me as your angel, because no one else is going to tell you this. You’re going to have a miserable, dismal life if you keep up what you do for fun.”
“I do what everybody else does.”
Alex shook his head, finally looking Joel in the eye. His stern visage was dark and foreboding. “No, I don’t think you do. Joel, running around with a girl like Sarah Towson is not going to heal you.”
“What do you mean?”
“I think you know what I mean.”
“I don’t.”
“Okay, first grader. You look at Sarah and see what you could have been, if you had been daring enough to be yourself. If you had chosen to follow your own path instead of what others mark out for you.”
“Just because I’m popular doesn’t mean I…”
Alex’s eyes grew dim. “I know, I know. But I know you, Joel. You’re popular, yes, but you aren’t a leader. You never have been. And that’s why you’re attracted to Sarah. She’s a leader.”
