Leon's Way

by Sunniva Dee

  His focus bounces to me. “To the hospital?”

  “Yeah. I’d like your company.”

  He thinks. Studies my expression for hidden agendas, but if anyone can remain camouflaged under my brother’s shrewd stare, it’s me.

  “Will you shut up, then?” he growls.

  I touch his arm. Press my fingers to his bicep in a reassuring clasp. The muscle isn’t giving. At all. Arria is right. I have never seen my brother like this. Not even at sixteen when he worked out nonstop for his black-belt graduation do I recall him this fit. It’s not good.

  “Yeah, I’ll shut up.”

  We’re in his truck, minutes from the hospital. Leon drives too fast because he’s trapped, forced to hear me out, and I can’t keep my mouth shut. This isn’t a rerun of my plea for him to let Dad talk and listen to his apologies. No, I simply tell Leon how I feel about our father. The last months have been a roller coaster for me too, just in a different way than for Leon. Me, I haven’t once budged from my goal of getting the past out of my system.

  “So now you know,” I finish. “Our father might not be the best person in the world as a sober man either, but how he acted back then, with Mom and us, was the alcohol.”

  “Kat, you’re rehashing old news. It doesn’t change the childhood he took from us.”

  “I know—”

  “Have you noticed how I hardly drink?” Leon asks.

  I have noticed. “Is it because you get like Dad?”

  In his teens and early twenties, Leon drank, but now he’s twenty-six, and despite owning two clubs, the most I’ve seen my brother take is a single glass of wine.

  His reply explodes out, silencing me. “No! I’d never become like him.” Then, he sighs, reeling himself in. “Just, I’m not ready to take that chance, not even with the most miniscule possibility of it happening—which is my point; our father knew how he became when he boozed up. He still did it.”

  We’re in the hospital garage. My brother unlocks the doors, and I unbuckle myself, grabbing my purse to get out. A shiver goes up my spine at the thought of this visit; the last one with Shishi is still with me.

  “Not everyone has your self-control, brother.” As I say it, I realize how I sound. Like I’m excusing our tormentor, like I could be abused by someone with our father’s personality in the future. That’s exactly how Leon takes it.

  “What the fuck, Kat?” he yells. The parking deck is dark, concrete walls surrounding us, a sliver of grey light sieving in from where it’s open between the banister and the ceiling.

  “No, that’s not how I meant it. You misunderstand.”

  “Misunderstand? You’ve got to be shitting me. You want to hear a story I told your poor father the other day?” My brother’s voice echoes off the walls.

  “Sshh, okay.” I scan the space. No one else is in here, thank God. We’re at the elevator, but Shishi doesn’t push the button. Good, because I can’t be trapped in such a small, claustrophobic space with his stories. I steel myself, covering my mouth and breathing into a cupped palm while I wait.

  His story will suck. I won’t have heard it before. Shishi harbors secrets I never learned of because I was so much younger when they transpired. Since then he’s been shielding me—only lately, he’s been more… forthcoming.

  He calms himself, nostrils flaring as he registers my anxiety. Leon’s already rethinking his outburst. It’s good for him, though, to get this out. All the bottling up is not, and I’m resilient. I can take his stories.

  “Ah, forget it,” he says, pitch breaking.

  “No, don’t back out. Tell me—now.”

  Two fingers go to the bridge of his nose, pressing deep against the corners of his eyes. “My memory is hazy from before you were born. I remember being happy with Mom, though. I don’t recall our father slapping her around much. He had his job and would come home late. At that time, he didn’t always hang at the bars for hours after work, I think.

  “At the house, Mom and I used to have some peaceful, afterschool hours before we knew if Dad would return drunk. We’d spend time together, sometimes simply talking. She would tell me about Japan, how she’d always dreamed of going. She’d lie on her side on top of the comforter, watching me play with the toy motorcycles she’d bought for me. Every afternoon, when the time came, she’d make it into a game to hide them from Dad in case he came home drunk. He’d break them, then. Toss my toys out.”

  I laugh softly, because it’s what we do. There’s humor in the weirdest things from our childhood. Shishi grins too. “She was clever. Our secret hiding spot was between their mattresses. Dad would never find them there.” His smile sinks.

  “One day Dad came home early. He was drunk. Mad. He slammed the front door open, and Mom rushed to get me into my own room before he got to their bedroom. There was no time. I remember his hard footsteps down the hallway. Mom shoving me into her closet and shutting the door behind me.”

  I swallow, afraid. Shishi turns his dark gaze forward, presses the elevator button. The doors slide open immediately, and he indicates for me to enter first. I cross my arms, hesitant. Leon lets it go.

  “She cried, Kat. Begged for mercy he wouldn’t give. He didn’t listen. I was too young to understand what was happening at the time, but you were conceived that day.”

  A sob slips out of me, and Shishi reaches out from within the mud bath of his memories. Strokes my hair. “That’s all,” he says, sounding almost comical.

  “That’s all, huh?”

  “Yeah—that’s the whole sad story. Done.”

  My vision is blurry as he leads me into the elevator. Leon makes sure we get off on the right floor. “You know, Kat—and you’ll like this. Nine months later, when you were born?”

  “Yeah?” I dry my eyes with the back of my hand. I’ll need the bathroom before I can face the sperm donor. I’ll need a coffee too, I think. Or maybe I can’t face him after all. Maybe we should go home.

  “Our father had a sober streak starting when he brought you and Mom back from the hospital. Those were some good weeks. Probably wasn’t sunny every day, but it felt that way. I remember playing on the couch in the living room, waiting for you to arrive. I looked up and you were there, even before you guys pulled up in the driveway.”

  “What do you mean? Supernaturally there or something?”

  “Yes, I’m not kidding. I heard your voice say, ‘Don’t worry—I’m here now. We’re in this together.’”

  Shishi’s words. As always, he finds a way to brighten my mood. “You were right,” he finishes. “I was disappointed at first, though, thinking I’d get a sister my age. Because who cares about babies?”

  “Bummer,” I say. “Sorry—I should’ve known better than to be an infant.”

  Leon acknowledges my joke with the slight curl of his lips. “Through the toughest times after our mother left, I kept recalling what you promised, and I couldn’t wait for you to grow up. It was hope to me.”

  We grab that coffee, and we don’t discuss whether we’ll head to the sperm donor’s or not. “Did I live up to your expectations?” I ask.

  Shishi picks up a package of creamer and turns it between his fingers. His gaze gleams the way only my brother’s can. “Yeah. When my approach didn’t work, yours might, remember? We were in it together.”

  “Yep,” I laugh. “You confronted him, asking for trouble, while I used more peaceful means by diverting his attention.”

  “Do you still want to see him?” Shishi finally asks.

  I blow out a breath. Yeah. We’re doing this. “Let’s go.”

  This visit is different. Our dad looks terrible, and yet my sympathy for him isn’t where it’s been lately. Funny how a stroll within Shishi’s memories can do that to a person.

  “Dad.” I nod. I feel the need to procrastinate, so I head to the sink on the opposite wall and wash my hands.

  “Hangin’ in there?” Leon asks, sounding civilized. It’s almost like a “how are you,” but not quite.


  “Both of my children,” our father wheezes.

  “Indeed. Here to lend support.” Leon chortles.

  Surprised, I swing to look at my brother. Even though his tone is sarcastic, mild amusement is all I see. The resentment, the turmoil from earlier, is gone. I wonder if Shishi feels lighter.

  The vibe I’m getting from him makes me brave and ready to stir the pot. Our father doesn’t have long now, the doctors say. Unless he, an alcoholic, miraculously speeds up the donor list to a fresh liver, they’ll be moving him to hospice on the north side of the property soon.

  I won’t miss him. I’m over lamenting who he never was, but my brother’s time to find closure is running out. All I can do is talk, try to skew the process in a more constructive direction than the one-sided outbursts Leon seems to have indulged in so far. I select one of his stories. One I’ve at least partly digested.

  “Father, I just learned that you kidnapped me as an infant.” As I say it, the knowledge stabs at my abdomen. This is how it is, though; you gotta process the pain.

  The faint glimmer of hope in the sperm donor’s eyes perishes like he will soon. He must have thought things were different with the two of us visiting together. I’m a good person. I see that he’s weak. Out of compassion, I want to let this go, but my loyalty, my love is with my brother, who’s strong, broken, about to lose his love because he’s chained to the sufferings of our childhood. Besides, what does another bite from the proverbial lance do to an old, evil man?

  The sperm donor’s gaze flicks to Leon, who folds his arms, waiting. “Do you mind if I explain myself?” Dad asks, and it’s a question, not a rebuke.

  Leon’s amusement has already retreated, his unapproachable mask, the one he uses to guard his feelings, drawing like stage curtains. “Sure, why not?” he drawls.

  Relief glows from under puffy eyelids as Dad catches on. This is his chance. Like most people, even our father is multifaceted, and it’ll help my Shishi to glimpse these other sides.

  “I’d been to the pub. You have to understand, my wife—your mother—she was the most beautiful lady in our entire town. Me, I had my business. Had done well for myself and earned some money. Your mother was twenty years my junior, a tiny beauty queen straight out of high school and working at the Jewel, a cocktail bar downtown.”

  We know, Dad.

  Shishi straightens. Chin pumped up, his glacial stare blazes into the man shriveling on the bed. I’m not sure how much longer he’ll stay for this story. Our father better get to the point.

  The sperm donor shakes his head blandly against the pillow as if aware that this is futile. “Don’t worry, son. I won’t ask your forgiveness—that’s not where I’m going.”

  “You’ve got one minute.”

  “We began to date,” our dad continues. “I took her to dinners, to plays, and to the movies. We drove my Corvette up to the summit to watch the sunset. Your lovely mother was kindness, tenderness, everything I didn’t deserve. I had no idea what she saw in me.”

  A silent laugh trembles on his lip. “But who was I to let a gem slip by? I loved her at first sight, you see, and I figured she must have seen something worthy of her time in me.

  “I wooed her—spent money to impress her. I did everything in my power to show your mother why she should choose me. Within six months, I proposed, and my ruby accepted. I arranged a lavish wedding, the wedding every woman dreams of, and we celebrated at the Shisha Gardens, the way she wanted.”

  Father lifts a hand pierced with needles and hospital tape. He dabs away a tear with his fingertip. It sparkles at the edge of his eye before he subdues it.

  “Ah,” he breathes, voice cracked. “You should have seen the gardens that night. The hundreds of garden lanterns made even the darkest corner shine. They twinkled in every color of the rainbow, promising an amazing future, and Ayako—she was so happy!

  “Everything happened too fast, my babies. It didn’t sink in how she—she—of all breathtaking creatures wanted middle-aged, mediocre me.”

  “Which is why you thanked her by abducting your infant daughter a couple of years later,” Leon lashes out.

  The sperm donor lets out a breath that rattles. Then, he starts again. “The beginning was good, Leon. I’d give her anything she wished for. In return, she gifted me with you, and I was in awe of the creation you were—so similar to her and yet so much like me. That’s when the big guys moved into town, monopolizing the tire business and stealing my customers. I couldn’t meet their prices and earn enough to keep a roof over our heads.”

  “So you started taking it out on Mom?” I ask before Leon can wring his imaginary lance in our father’s chest again.

  “Barely at first,” he puffs out. He’s tired. Dad’s eyes find Shishi before they close. “At my wish, my ruby left her job as soon as she became pregnant with you, Leon. She was my little homemaker who kept our big house pristine, hot meals ready when I came home from work.”

  “Big?” Leon laughs.

  “Yes, it was big. During the first years, we lived in the Bellevue district, two terraces below Shisha Gardens.”

  I draw in a breath; the neighborhood is the Bel Air of Deepsilver. I try to catch Leon’s attention, but he’s not looking my way. I read surprise in the tense set of his shoulders.

  “What you, Leon, remember as home is the tiny apartment I could afford after I declared bankruptcy. The only job I got was as an attendant at my competitor’s. You were three when that happened.

  “Your mother wanted to return to being a cocktail waitress to help with our finances. The Jewel was willing to take her back at any time. She was that good at what she did. I can’t say I was young and immature—I was just dumb. I rejected my ruby’s wish, wanted to be her provider, her everything.

  “Selfishly, I demanded she stay at home. She was my private gem, the most amazing creature in all of Deepsilver. All the men had watched her while she worked at the bar. Heck, I’d been one of them!”

  He’s crying, and my brother’s face contorts with disgust.

  “Yeah, screw this shit. You’re a lowlife,” Leon spits out. His glare shoots blades into the one who gave us life before piercing me. “Sis. I’m outta here. Coming?”

  “Don’t you want to learn why he took off with me?” I whisper.

  My brother always knows what he wants. It’s heartbreaking to see him stand there, shifting almost imperceptibly on his feet before he replies.

  “Fucking tell her!” he shouts.

  My father must have been yelled at a lot since Leon began visiting because he barely flinches. “I will. Katsu, I started frequenting pubs after work to forget what I couldn’t provide for Leon and your mother. A beer isn’t expensive. Neither are two. Electricity, new clothes on growing children, gas, loans, property taxes. Ingredients for meals that are more than just bare basics. Together they formed a mountain I couldn’t scale.”

  “Poetic,” Shishi grits under his breath.

  Dad knows he needs to finish his story quickly before his son stalks out the door. “I drank to relax, to be who you needed when I came home—a good husband and a father who didn’t budge over extra pennies spent when she made decisions without me.”

  “Get to the point!”

  The sperm donor does. “One day, she’d gone back to the Jewel without my permission. I was drunk, and I hit her. A week later, after our power got shut off for non-payment, she went back again. Got the electricity turned on with the tips from a single night, and the fury blinded me.”

  “Of course.” Leon’s pupils are dilated. It’s distress—fear of what comes next. I’m used to stories I don’t remember because I was too little. I’m not fearless by any means, but for Leon this isn’t a common occurrence.

  “Things went downhill after that. I didn’t make my ruby happy. The look in my son’s eyes wasn’t one of delight whenever I returned from the low-salary job I hated. For each day I took an extra swig at the pub, I lost my wife a drop and a beating at a time.”

&nb
sp; Wisely, he swallows a sob my brother wouldn’t be able to stomach. Then, dying blue eyes meet mine. “I wore your mother out. I wasn’t the happy, relaxed drunk I thought I’d be. Alcohol doesn’t fix anything. It doesn’t even drown your sorrows.” His expression exposes a need to laugh, but he can’t muster the energy.

  “Soon, Ayako took on more waitressing hours without my consent. When violence didn’t stop her from returning to the Jewel, I suspected that another, better man was taking her from me.”

  His exhale jangles, causing me to wonder about his lungs too. Dad whispers now, exhausted from talking. “Jealousy took over. I hit harder, more often.”

  “Why didn’t Uncle Hank intervene?” I ask.

  “Because your mother is proud. She wasn’t one to push her problems onto anyone else, so she left her brother in the dark.” This story—it’s like he recounts someone else’s actions; he’s got the full overview. He’s not apologetic, trying to sugarcoat what happened. Fully aware, he doesn’t hide his wrongs.

  Shishi’s by the door. He sends me one look, and I know he’s had enough. “Dad, I think we’re leaving,” I say because Shishi is beyond even sarcastic retorts. “Next time,” I offer.

  The sperm donor hasn’t been sitting up in bed for days. Still, when I stand to follow my brother, a grunt escapes him as he supports both hands to the mattress and shoves upward in a futile lift. “Katsu, little one. I…”

  Tomorrow, I’ll hear him out when he tells me why he abducted me. Yes, right now, the present is more important than the past.

  He’s out of breath. I’m thinking there’s definitely something wrong with his lungs.

  “I didn’t have a reason to steal you. I wanted to hurt your mother like she hurt me—”

  “But she did nothing wrong!” I exclaim.

  “—by not allowing me to control her.”

  Leon spins in the doorway. For a nanosecond, his cyan-blue lasers flash with intense alarm. Our father collects his last audible breath and lets his voice chase Leon into the corridor with a hollow shout: “I never stopped loving her!”