by London Casey
“Aiden stopped using…”
“They all stop using,” Alice said. “Gabe did the same thing to me. Went to meetings. Got clean. But it never stops biting at your heels. Not until you break.”
I swallowed hard.
“Yeah,” Alice said. “So, then you have to answer the question…is it worth it? If it is, you deal with it. If not, you walk away. But if you walk away, you carry that guilt, Lily. Fucking guilt. Because what if I walk away and he hurts himself? Or what if he fucks another woman?”
“Jesus, Alice, I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m so sorry.”
Alice sucked on her cigarette, put it out, and quickly lit another one. She took another drag and put her head back and made O rings of smoke.
“It’s life, Lily. I’m sure you’re not living some dream yourself.”
“I’m not,” I said. “But I want Aiden to be happy and healthy. And with me.”
“Then let him do this thing,” Alice said.
“What happens if something happens to Gabe?” I asked. “How far can it go?”
“I buy his drugs,” Alice said. “I give them to him. I know exactly what he needs and how much. Shit, I should become a nurse, huh? I’d be great. I know all the math conversions. The biology shit.” Alice laughed. “How about that…drugs giving me a shot at a career.”
“Yeah,” I said. “That’s one way to look at it.”
I finished my beer and stood up. “I better get him home before things get too far.”
“Yeah. I better get Gabe’s snack together.”
I stood there and watched as Alice dragged a chair to the fridge. She climbed on the chair and pulled a large coffee can off the fridge. She handed it to me. I held it like it was a bomb about to go off. She got off the chair and took the can from me. She put it on the counter and opened it. I was in shock as she pulled out all the supplies needed to get Gabe high. She did everything so calm and skillfully, like she was cooking Gabe something special for dessert.
My stomach was sick.
I said my goodbyes and gathered up Aiden to get him home.
Once we were there, he hit the bed hard. He tried to make some comment about me being beautiful and that I should flash him. Before I could even lift my shirt an inch his eyes were shut.
I backed up and leaned against the dresser. I stared at him as he slept.
Alice’s words rang through my mind.
But it never stops biting at your heels. Until you break.
I wanted to believe in the meetings and Aiden’s will to not want that shit.
I turned and pulled open the drawer. It was his drawer. I started to go through it. My heart racing. The guilt building. Was this who I would be for the rest of my life with him? Fuck.
At the back of the drawer I found an envelope. The flap was open and it was filled with cash. Lots of cash. Twenties, fifties, even some hundred dollar bills. I wasn’t an accountant, but there had to be at least a thousand bucks.
For what?
I thumbed through the cash. I looked over my shoulder. Paranoia was not a good look on me. I didn't want to wear it. I didn’t want to be in this world.
So, I shut my eyes and took a breath.
I would not become Alice. I would not feed into Aiden’s problems. I would help him stand as the goddamn warrior he was and fight alongside him.
I put the envelope back where I found it, along with the clothes. I wasn’t going to steal his cash. I wasn’t going to question it, either. All I could do was check on it, maybe every day. Just to see what he was up to.
I kept hope and faith that it would be for good. But somewhere in the pit of my stomach…
I turned around and watched Aiden sleep again.
I loved him. I loved him more than I ever loved anything else in my life. Anyone from the outside probably thought I was crazy. But love didn’t give a shit about anything.
Standing there, my mind raced. Aiden. Gabe. Alice. The cash.
The fucking cash.
As long as it stayed in the drawer, there was nothing to worry about.
Well…the cash would go missing in two days.
Chapter 27
(Little Box of Shit)
FIVE YEARS AGO
(AIDEN)
I stepped outside from the basement of the church and took the first breath of fresh air like I had been down in there for years. Another meeting. Another day. I even stopped counting the days in my head. I didn’t need to worry about the last time I used. The new countdown in my head revolved around Lily.
It was time.
I had saved up all I could and I was going to get her a ring.
I couldn’t do the insane proposal crap that some guys did. No helicopters and three hundred dollar dinners. Nothing fancy. But that wouldn’t matter. Because when I got on one knee and showed Lily the ring…shit, we could be in the middle of a burning house, and it would still be amazing.
But before I did all of that, I had a job for myself. In the meeting, people were talking about the past. Facing the past. Getting through it. That you shouldn’t just drop it off and walk away. That it’ll get some legs and find you. That really hit me. Hit me hard.
So, I decided to do something about it.
I got into my truck and drove to my old house. It was a piece of shit stuffed between two other pieces of shit. Near the train tracks where I’d try to balance and walk the rail like a tightrope walker. Where I’d sit on the rails and smoke my first cigarette, and then proceed to throw up. Where I’d stack rocks on the rails, convinced I could derail a train. That never worked.
I parked my truck and walked to the house.
I looked at it.
The top windows weren’t boarded up anymore. That was good. The front had been painted from its ugly, chipped green color to a nice red. The concrete steps were still cracked. The metal railing crooked. The outside of the house was still in dire need of attention. But the place was still standing.
I walked to the steps. On the second step, I sat there and used to make out with Lily. I’d wrap my arm around her and hold her tight. She’d cry to me. About her mother. About school. About the older bitches that would pick on her for being chunky, geeky, having pimples on her face. I never saw any of that though. I just saw beauty. Fuck. Lily took a beating for me so many times.
I touched the railing and took the first step up.
I shut my eyes and could still hear the screams from the inside. My father throwing my mother against the wall, leaving a sign of the damage. My mother lunging back at him, nails first, clawing at him. One night, she got away from him and grabbed a lighter. She flicked it, let it burn, and waited for him. When my father went after her, she turned and jammed the lighter to his face. He then threw her over the counter and went after her. That was just a regular night for me. They’d fight, split up, then get drunk, high, fuck, and get back together. When they did get back together, they’d laugh, make me and my brothers a fuck-ton of pancakes, pack our lunch, and smile. They’d leave us with the hint of hope that things would change.
But things never changed.
Just like the now red door of the house. It had been ugly green and chipped for years. But it had changed now.
I took another step.
That’s when the front door opened.
And a man stood there with a shotgun.
I showed my hands. “Whoa…”
“I’m not buying a thing,” the guy said. “And if you try to praise Jesus at me, I’ll let you meet him.”
“No, no,” I said. “I’m not selling anything.”
“You trying to break in?”
“No. I used to live here.”
“Huh?”
“My name’s Aiden. I used to live here. I grew up here. I was back in the area and just wanted to see the place.”
“What for?”
“Can you put that gun down?”
The old man growled and lowered it. I took another step. He pumped the chamber as a warning that he was stil
l in control.
I kept my hands visible.
“I’m, uh, I’m a recovering addict. I’m going through all the steps. Today we were talking about the past. I thought maybe if I saw the old house and had a chance to walk through it again… it might help me.”
“Aiden, you say?” the old man asked.
“Yeah.”
“I bought this shithole from the bank. I planned on flipping it. Like I saw on TV one night. There ain’t no flipping houses in this neighborhood. Lesson learned. Don’t get drunk and watch so-called reality shows.”
I nodded.
No surprise that my parents lost the house to the bank. They treated the house like an ATM machine. And the banks loved just giving them money. And taking shit from us. No wonder the economy fucking collapsed when it did, huh?
“I’m sorry to bother you,” I said.
“I think I have something for you.”
“You do?”
I stepped up another step.
Then the last step.
I towered over the guy, but he had the shotgun, so he was still the winner.
I looked past him and caught a glimpse of the dining room. The second you stepped into the house you were in the dining room. The entire floor was wide open, the dining room to the kitchen to the living room. I swore for a second I could still smell the must and mold in the place. It was a miracle that none of us grew up with cancer from the conditions we used to live in.
“You stand the hell right here,” the old man said. “I don’t want someone rooting through my stuff.”
“You got it,” I said.
He turned and shuffled into the house.
I slipped my hands into my pockets. I felt the cash. All that money.
I was going to do it. For real. Get Lily a ring. Shit, yeah. I was going to make it happen.
My phone buzzed, which meant her ears must have been buzzing.
She texted me.
Coming home soon?
Not a romantic text but a loving check-in kind of text. Just to make sure I wasn’t on some street corner with a needle in my arm.
Yes. Had to stop somewhere. Don’t worry. I’m fine.
“Here you go,” the old man said, appearing in the doorway.
He had a box in his hand. A lunchbox with some off-brand cartoon characters printed on it. Meant to look like the stuff that was actually on TV. But hell no. That shit, the real shit, was too expensive to buy.
I looked at the box and lost my breath.
I remembered the box.
The day my parents gave it to me.
It was one of their make-up days. My father had scored some cash (how, I don’t know) and then he bought each of us something little. Kids in school would knock my paper-bag lunch out of my hand and stomp on it. So, he bought the real lunchbox so they would stop. The thing was… the box meant so much… I kept it. I filled it with stuff. I hid it. I forgot about it. As far as the assholes who kept stomping on my lunch? All I had to do was stomp on their balls, just once, and that problem took care of itself.
“I assume this is yours,” the old man said. “Found it when I was cleaning out the basement. Tucked up in a board. It’s just a little box of shit but I thought maybe it was worth hanging onto.”
I took the box. I rubbed my thumb across a rabbit dressed as a superhero. No name. No purpose. Just some cheap character made to go on a lunchbox.
“Wow,” I said. “I forgot all about this.”
“Well, it’s yours. Take it.”
I looked at the old man. “Hey. Thanks.”
“You really want to walk through this dump? I’ll let you.”
“No,” I said. “I’m good with this. This means a lot to me. I’m serious. Thank you.”
“You got it,” the old man said. There was the faint yell from his TV, an audience cheering about something. He thumbed over his shoulder. “Going to finish up my shows. You take care. Don’t come back here.”
I walked off the porch and sat on the bottom step. I flipped open the rusted latch and opened the lunchbox.
I took a deep breath.
I grabbed the first thing I saw, a letter, and started to read it. Something I wrote to myself.
It was the second biggest mistake I could ever make that day…
Chapter 28
(Look What You Mean to Me)
FIVE YEARS AGO
(LILY)
I watched Aiden dump the lunchbox out. There were some cars, green plastic soldiers, a few pictures, but mostly notes. He grabbed a picture and showed it to me. It was of him and me on the steps of his porch. Right after we first met. Me being thirteen and dorky. Him being fifteen and a total bad ass. A black bandana across his forehead, ripped sleeves on his shirt, his first tattoo showing. I was cuddled up close to him.
“Aiden, this is amazing.”
“I know,” he said. “I forgot all about this box. The picture and some notes were the last things I put in there. My parents started looting our rooms for stuff to sell. So, I hid it and forgot all about it. Some guy grabbed the house from the bank and he saved this.”
“That’s like a miracle,” I said. “What are the notes?”
“Random thoughts and shit,” he said. “I wrote one about you.”
“You did? Can I see?”
“Well, there are plenty here about you. But, here, check this one out.”
He tossed me a folded piece of paper.
I opened it.
It was Aiden’s scribbling handwriting.
I don’t pay attention in school because that shit is fucked. But whatever the fuck they say about science and religion and the universe, I just found something that changes it all. I found someone who can stop the universe right in its tracks. It’s fucked up. She’s as fucked up as me. Insane. Yet she doesn’t look that part. She’s kind of innocent but she’s really pretty. I wish I could talk to my brothers about her. But I know what those assholes will say. They’ll ask about her tits and want to know if I fucked her yet. That’s not even on my mind when I’m with her. How fucked is that? I won’t say a thing to anyone because then someone will try to take her from me. I have this idea though. Like, if the universe and her work together, we can escape this place and be happy. I’ve been writing some music and playing guitar. I think I can make a living at it. Some really good stuff. But this girl… she’s like a woman almost already. She doesn’t even know it though. She doesn’t get it. The way she looks at me. She’s so happy when she looks at me. I fucking look at myself in the mirror and wonder what she sees. I don’t look in the mirror and get happy. Fuck that shit. Whatever. It doesn’t fucking matter. I just know what I know and what I fucking feel. So anyone giving me shit about that, I’ll knock their fucking teeth in, you know? I’m not afraid of anything and when I’m with her I just want to hold her. Protect her. Her fucking parents are as bad as mine. The neighborhood, so called friends, man, it ain’t teenage angst around here. It’s fucking blood for blood. It’s fucking smile at the front, knife in the back, dig the hole and fuck you. That’s no way to live, man. I don’t want that shit. I want her. I want to show her that everything can be real. That things can be good. I don’t know what good is though… except when I’m with her, I feel good. I feel really fucking good. Like I don’t even sneak whiskey when I’m with her. I was drinking so much before I met her. Drunk in school. Drunk at home. But she gets me drunk. How about that shit. A fucking chick. Getting me drunk. Taming me already. Oh man I am so fucked. But I’m happy.
I folded up the paper. I shook my head, smiling.
“What?” Aiden asked.
“I can still hear your voice back then. That tough guy voice you tried to play off for a while.”
“Yeah. But look what you mean to me,” he said. “From day fucking one, sweetheart.”
“Shit. Aiden…”
“I also found some other stuff. My first lyrics…”
My phone screen lit up.
I grabbed my phone and snuck from the table
to the kitchen. I bit my lip as I stared at the screen.
Can I still visit you later?
Guilt filled my throat.
Darryl had been texting me again for the last week.
Not that anything was happening, he was just there for me. Patching up those weak spots that Aiden didn’t quite get to. When he was with Gabe or when he was passed out drunk or just lost in his own mind, it was nice to have someone to talk to. Someone who didn’t constantly push back to the past and someone who didn’t leave my heart hurting.
Darryl was a good friend. That was it.
I had to work a shift at the restaurant. A filler shift for only four hours.
6-10
I sent the text.
“Hey, you okay?”
I jumped and put the phone down.
“Fine,” I said.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I said. “Just work stuff. I have to work this fill-in shift.”
“Okay,” Aiden said. “I was saying about Gabe… how I sort of knew about him all those years ago.”
“Oh?”
“I wrote something about possibly having a brother. I think when my father took off and had that affair he must have fessed up to my mother or something. I don’t know. He used to take me to the garage he worked at. We’d all drink and smoke, getting fucking high. So maybe he said something to his buddies and I heard it. Just weird how it works, you know? I wrote about wondering if I had other brothers or sisters out there. And I do: Gabe.”
“That’s special,” I said. “You should show that to him. Seriously.”
“Maybe I will.”
I touched Aiden’s face. “I’m going to grab my uniform. I’m happy that you’re happy right now.”
Aiden grabbed my waist and kissed me. “I’m always happy with you.”
I slipped into the bedroom. I grabbed everything I needed for work. Then I glanced at his drawer in my dresser. I bit my lip and stepped forward. The second my hand touched the handle of the drawer, the bedroom door opened.
Aiden stood there, my phone in his hand. He quickly threw it at the bed.
