Against the Grain

by Phil M. Williams

  He nods.

  “Well, a number of reasons, I suppose. To learn, to get good grades, to get into college, play sports, make friends, and I’m sure a bunch of other things I’m not thinking of.”

  He frowns. “I don’t think they go to school to learn. What happens when you’re teaching something, and someone asks if it’s on the test?”

  She purses her lips. “If I tell them it’s on the test, they pay attention. If I tell them it’s not, they tune out.”

  “And they cram for tests, immediately forgetting the information the moment they turn in the test. Everyone’s so focused on getting the grade, getting into a good college, making more good grades, and for what? So they can work in some job that isn’t really needed? So they don’t have to get their hands dirty?”

  “What’s wrong with wanting a good job, getting good grades?”

  “All those gold stars come with a price. From a very early age, kids are praised when they give the right answers. Praised with stickers or pluses or As, and chided for the wrong ones with poor marks. This encourages the smartest kids to continue to gobble up and regurgitate all the information fed by the adults and the teachers around them. But what if they’re not taught the most important information and if sometimes they’re taught outright lies?”

  She furrows her brow. “Derrick used to tell me that the smartest are also usually the most indoctrinated.”

  “That’s why, apart from Tariq, the only kids willing to participate in the walkout were the kids on the fringes, the kids who never get good grades, the outcasts, the kids who see no benefit in the system. Those were the only kids brave enough, because those were the only kids who had nothing to lose.”

  “God, you remind me of him.” She takes a sip of tea. “I don’t disagree with you, but, for better or worse, this is the system we have. I don’t want you to end up like Derrick. This path you’re on …” She shakes her head. “It’s a really hard road. I just want you to be happy.”

  “I have no intention of going to jail, but I plan to live my life as free as possible.”

  “And how do you plan to do that?”

  “For starters, I’m dropping out of school.”

  She exhales and frowns. “I had a feeling this was coming.”

  “I’m gonna take that job working for Reggie doing tree work, and Mr. Clemens said I could work on his farm on the weekends. I can start paying you rent, if you’ll let me stay. If not, I understand. I can be out of here next week. You’ve already done so much for me. I feel like I’ve turned your life upside down.”

  “You have.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. It’s a good upside down. I’d like for you to stay, but I want to renegotiate our deal.” She grins.

  “Okay?”

  “You still keep me in the produce that I’ve become accustomed to, but I will not accept a dime from you. I’m serious about this, Matt. You are not my tenant. You’re …” She looks away, then to Matt, her eyes glassy. “You should get ready. Your friends will be here in an hour.”

  Matt smirks. “That means I can do fifty-five minutes more work.”

  She laughs. “I’m the one who needs to get ready then. I haven’t even finished the cake.”

  “I can help.”

  She shakes her head with a smile. “You will not help ice your own birthday cake.”

  +++

  Matt stands on the back patio, looking down at his new jeans, untucked polo shirt, and brown shoes. Ms. Pierce had insisted that he open one of his birthday presents before the party. She had beamed at the sight of him, telling him once more how he shines up like a new penny. He picks up the matchbook from the wooden picnic table and strikes a match. He lights the citronella candle.

  He hears the low growl of a V-8 engine. He walks to the driveway. George exits his black coupe, his hair gelled, with a small wrapped box in hand. Madison steps from the passenger seat. Ryan climbs out of the back. Matt smiles at them. George hands him the box.

  “Happy birthday, bro. This is from all of us.”

  Matt wipes the corner of his eye and clears his throat. “Thanks, guys.”

  “Don’t get all fuckin’ weepy,” George says. “It’s not that good of a gift.”

  Madison frowns at George, and then reaches out and hugs Matt. “I’m sorry,” she says in his ear.

  Matt smiles at her. “It’s fine.” He puts his arm around Ryan. “Are you happy to have your room back?”

  Ryan shakes his head. “It was more fun with you there. Can you come and visit?”

  “I’ll be working soon, and, when I get a truck, I’ll pick you up anytime you want.”

  Ryan smiles.

  A white Nissan Sentra parks behind George’s Mustang. Tariq and Jared step out, each holding a wrapped gift. Jared struts toward the crowd.

  “What up, party people?” Jared says, smacking Matt on the shoulder and handing him a box.

  “Thanks, Jared. Thanks for coming,” Matt says.

  “Please tell me you invited some ladies up in here?”

  “This is everyone.”

  “Damn, I’m gonna have to make some calls.”

  Tariq approaches, placing his keys into the front pocket of his jeans. He smiles wide, his goatee expanding.

  “It’s good to see you,” Tariq says, holding out his hand.

  Matt nods, shaking with one hand, while balancing his gifts with the other.

  “Everything’s in back,” Matt says.

  His friends and family walk to the back patio. Matt and Tariq linger behind.

  “I wanted to thank you for what you did,” Matt says. “You risked everything for me.”

  Tariq smiles. “No need to thank me. It was the most exciting thing I’ve ever done in my whole life.”

  “What happened to you in the parking lot? I thought you were right behind me, but, when I got to the woods and turned around, you were gone. Did they catch you?”

  Tariq laughs. “Nah, I hid underneath Tyler’s Jeep by a wheel. I gotta bunch of pictures of the cops roughing up kids. I stayed until the cops left. They agreed to drop the charges, partly because of the pictures, partly because of the website. I gave copies to the kids who walked out with us. It was like I gave them a million dollars. I think we all felt special in that moment, like we were standing up for what’s right, when nobody else had the balls to. It felt good, you know?”

  “Yeah, I do.”

  They walk to the backyard, joining the party. Everyone stands around the food and the presents, eating, talking, and laughing. Ms. Pierce steps out onto the patio holding a cake with burning candles. She’s greeted by the guests. Matt sits at the head of the table. They sing “Happy Birthday.” Jared and Ms. Pierce have angelic voices. Matt takes a deep breath, through aching ribs, and blows out all seventeen candles.

  After eating cake, he opens his gifts. He slides on the rugged wristwatch.

  “I know you like to tell time by the sun,” George says with a smirk, “but this might work a bit better.”

  Jared and Tariq both give him a shirt. They say he should have some clothes without holes. In addition to the clothes on his back, Ms. Pierce gives him a new pair of boots. She tells him to look inside. He removes a pair of Felco pruners from inside one of the boots.

  +++

  After the guests leave, Matt carries empty plates and glasses into the kitchen. Ms. Pierce stands at the sink, washing dishes, her sundress covered by an apron. He piles the dishes on the counter.

  “Thank you for doing this,” he says. “You were right. It was really good to see everyone.”

  She looks at Matt, her blond hair tied back, and her face flushed from the heat of the water. “You have really nice friends … and family.”

  “Family?”

  “Your foster siblings love you just as much as any blood-related siblings I’ve seen. And you have me, right?”

  He nods; his eyes downcast.

  “What’s wrong?”

  He shrugs. �
��Nothing. Everything was really great. I just wish Emily was here.”

  Ms. Pierce purses her lips and furrows her brow. “I know.”

  “I really messed things up. I never should’ve lied to her. It’s like, by trying to protect her, I was insulting her strength as a person to handle the truth.”

  “Why don’t you call her?”

  “I have.” He exhales. “Too many times. Her phone goes right to voice mail. I’m starting to feel like a stalker. I think I have to let her go.”

  “Maybe she’ll come around. She probably just needs time.”

  “Maybe.”

  Ms. Pierce dunks a dirty dish into the soapy water, then into the clear water. Matt grabs the dish towel and dries the plate.

  “So, when’s your birthday?” he asks.

  “Next month, and I’m not telling you how old I am.” She grins.

  “Twenty-four?”

  She laughs. “This is why I keep you around. I need someone to boost my self-esteem.”

  “What do you usually do for your birthday? Does your mother make you a cake?”

  She frowns. “I don’t think that’ll happen.”

  “I’m sorry. Did she die?” He looks down.

  “No, she’s alive. So is my dad.”

  “Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

  “No.” She turns off the water. Matt hands her a dish towel. She dries her hands.

  “Where do your parents live?”

  “Here, in Jefferson.”

  “That’s great. I’d like to meet them.”

  She shakes her head. “I don’t talk to them.”

  Matt raises his eyebrows. “Why? I’d give anything to know my parents.”

  She frowns and looks down.

  Matt winces. “I’m sorry. That was insensitive.”

  “It’s okay.” She takes a deep breath. “I grew up in a pretty abusive household. I remember this time that Derrick and I were supposed to go over to my parents’ house for Christmas, and I was complaining that I didn’t want to go. He told me that we shouldn’t go if I didn’t want to. It was like a weight had been lifted. I had never even considered the fact that I could just stop seeing these people. They are my parents.”

  Matt dries dishes, stacking them next to the cupboard. “Why didn’t you wanna see them? Because of the abuse?”

  “What they did to me when I was a child was wrong. I confronted them as an adult. All I wanted was an apology, but they couldn’t do it. They just told me that it never happened and that I needed to get over the past. And they were still abusive as adults in their own way. They borrowed money from me that they never paid back. They criticized me. They made fun of Derrick. They’re just nasty people.”

  Ms. Pierce stacks dry plates in the cupboard.

  “So you just stopped having contact with them?” Matt asks.

  She stops and turns to Matt. “I did.”

  “How did that go over?”

  She sighs. “It was pretty awful. They tried to manipulate me in every way possible, to get me to change my mind. Finally I stopped taking their calls. I don’t want people in my life who don’t make it better.”

  “That sounds like good advice.”

  “Its common sense, but it’s so hard to do. I think I’m finally there.”

  “I’m glad,” Matt says, drying the final glass.

  “Me too.”

  “Do you remember how I told you about that woman I met in Philly who knew my mother?”

  “Of course.”

  “She said her son used to date my mom. I was wondering if you’d go with me to see him?”

  “Of course, honey.”

  “Before you agree so quickly, it’s a little bit more complicated than just going for a visit.”

  “Okay?”

  “He’s in prison.”

  [ 23 ]

  To Jack

  Ms. Pierce steers the Jeep Wagoneer into the parking lot of the assisted-living high-rise. She finds an empty spot near the back of the lot. Matt and Ms. Pierce hop out of the Jeep. The stifling heat reverberates in a haze off the asphalt parking lot. A large wooden sign reads Manchester Lakes Assisted Living.

  “I thought it would be cooler up here,” Ms. Pierce says.

  “I thought there’d be a lake,” Matt says.

  She smiles. “False advertising, huh?”

  He grins.

  “Are you ready?” she asks.

  “Your friend’s sure this is her?”

  “You know I already spoke to her.”

  “Sorry, I’m just nervous.”

  “It’ll be fine. She sounded really nice on the phone.”

  They walk through the automatic sliding doors. The cool air-conditioning feels too cold after coming in from the sweltering heat. Ms. Pierce struts toward the front desk, her light blue sundress billowing around her shapely figure. The middle-aged man at the counter smiles wide, his eyes up, but occasionally he glances down.

  “May I help you?” he says, with a plastered smile.

  “Hi, we’re here to see Anne Thornton,” Ms. Pierce says. “She’s expecting us.”

  “I’ll call and let her know you’re here. What’s your name, miss?”

  “Olivia Pierce.”

  “And the young man?”

  “Matt Moyer,” she says.

  The man calls Anne. He hangs up the phone. “You’re welcome to go on up. She’s in apartment 314. The elevators are right around the corner. I could take you up there, if you need help.”

  “We’re fine. Thanks,” Ms. Pierce says.

  They step onto the elevator. She presses the number 3. She grabs Matt’s hand and gives it a squeeze.

  “Are you excited?” she asks.

  He nods. “Thank you for doing this. I never would’ve found her without your help.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  The elevator chimes, and the metal doors slide open. They step into the carpeted hallway and follow the sign that reads 300–320.

  They arrive at apartment 314. Matt takes a deep breath. Ms. Pierce knocks on the door. A tall woman, with a broad smile and white curly hair, opens the door.

  “Olivia, it’s so nice to see you. And you must be Matthew. I’m Anne, but you already know that,” she says, her words spilling out in rapid fire.

  Matt smiles and offers his hand. She reaches out and wraps her arms around him.

  “Come in, you two. I’m so glad you came. I can’t believe I’m looking at Jack’s grandnephew.”

  The apartment floor is covered in white carpet. A couch and two dark wooden chairs are arranged around a glass coffee table in the living room.

  “Have a seat,” she says. “Would you like something to drink? I made iced tea. It’s hot as blazes out there.”

  “Tea sounds great,” Ms. Pierce says. “Do you need some help?”

  “Oh, heavens no.”

  Matt and Ms. Pierce sit on the couch. Anne disappears to the kitchen. Ms. Pierce looks over at Matt.

  “I told you she was nice,” she says in a hushed tone.

  Anne returns and places a tray on the table, with a pitcher of tea and three glasses. She pours, while Matt squirms in his seat.

  “You look like you have a lot of questions,” Anne says to Matt.

  “I do. … I never thought there would be anyone I could talk to who might know the answers.”

  “I might have a few questions for you too, if that’s okay. I was deeply saddened when Olivia told me what happened. I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

  Matt looks away. Ms. Pierce smiles at Anne.

  “So, Olivia, you were Matt’s English teacher, right?” Anne asks.

  “For just a few months,” Ms. Pierce replies.

  “And now you’re his guardian?”

  “Technically, no, but I’d like to be.”

  Anne purses her lips. “What would you like to know?” she says to Matt.

  He takes a deep breath. “Did you know my mother, Elle?”

  “I did. Jack tried t
o look after her. His brother, Phillip, who would be your grandfather if he were alive today, died when she was a teenager. It was some sort of cancer, if my memory serves me correct. Your grandmother, Ruth, suffered from bipolar disorder. After Phillip died, Ruth fell apart. He was the glue that held everything together. Your mom moved out at sixteen. Your uncle looked after her, not like a father, mind you, but more like a friend.

  “Your mother had a mind of her own. Jack gave her money when she needed it or a place to stay occasionally. He tried to give her advice, but she was so strong-willed. Not too much different than you, I gather. She was a very beautiful girl and smart too. Her biggest mistake was in the company she kept. Jack and I often had to go places and physically remove her from some of the people she got involved with. She’d get in over her head, then she’d call Jack.”

  “Did my mom have any brothers or sisters?”

  Anne shakes her head. “She was an only child.”

  “What happened to Ruth?”

  “She committed suicide shortly after your mother moved out. It was a lot for your mother to handle, the death of both her parents at such a young age. I wish Jack and I could’ve been a better stabilizer for her.”

  “Do you know who my father is?”

  Anne shakes her head. “I wish I did. Jack and I lost contact in 1982, before you were born.”

  “Is there anything you wanna know?” Matt asks Anne.

  She forces a smile. “Did he talk about me much?”

  Matt shakes his head.

  Anne looks down.

  “I think it was too painful for him. … but I did get him to talk once.”

  Anne looks up.

  “He said you were smart as a whip and the most unselfish person he had ever met. He also said you helped him get clean. He told me the biggest mistake he ever made was walking out on you. He said he did it because he felt like he was a burden.”

  Anne wipes her eyes with a cloth napkin. She smudges some mascara. “I waited forever for that old kook. I was sure he’d come back. I guess I was right. I just didn’t think it’d be twenty years later, beyond the grave.”

  “My uncle told me that he had two regrets in his life. One of them was walking out on you. He wouldn’t tell me the other. Do you know what he might’ve been talking about?”