by Avery Kirk
He reached over and grabbed my now-half-full glass of beer. He over-carefully balanced the glass on the way to his mouth. It still sloshed around. He took a giant mouthful and set it back on the counter with a slam. Then he began to reach back for his wallet. He always put his wallet in his front pocket when he went to the bar. He said it was because your butt is exposed to more people than your face, which he found hilarious. But, he seemed to forget this as he searched.
“Kev, check the front. Here.” I offered.
He was standing now so I pushed the wallet from the bottom of its lump in his right pocket and it appeared at the top. I grabbed it for him.
“Can you find it? I’m so tired. I must have car-monoxide poison or somthn. They should get a test here. It’s tiring.”
“It’s OK bud, I got it.”
I opened his wallet and searched the credit cards. He had about 5 and 4 of them were platinum or gold in color. I always forgot that his family had money. You’d just never think it. I grabbed a gold one, just then Mike walked up with the tab. I handed him the card.
He was back in less than a minute which was good because Kevin was fading. He sat with his head resting against the wall behind him.
Some girls on the way to the bathroom stopped to apparently admire him. He heard their nearby giggling I’m guessing because he slowly lifted his head up and fixed his gaze on them, his expression unchanged. They belted out ‘hi’ all at once and their unexpected unison greeting sent them falling all over each other laughing. The corner of his mouth lifted in an attempt at a smile but he set his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. They laughed themselves into the bathroom, all arm-in-arm bumping into each other. One of them looked me up and down with a glare. I rolled my eyes.
Mike tapped my shoulder and leaned in to me “I took care of him. Took almost half off”, he said in a forced whisper. It was still so loud.
“Thanks Mike. I appreciate it. I’ll see you soon, OK?”
“You better.” He said, pointing at me. I need some wood working advice. Mike moved over to Kevin and set a hand on his crossed arms, squeezing. “You’ve got a good girl there, Kev. Take care of yourself.”
“Mm best girl. K, Mike. Best.” he said, without opening his eyes.
I looked at the bill. If this was half off, he was going to have a rough day tomorrow. I tipped Mike 50% of the new total and signed Kevin’s name without trying to match his real signature. I turned to my passenger.
“Hey, you wanna slam that water before we hit the road?” Kevin always alternated drinks and water to lessen the bad parts of the day after. It didn’t take me long to guess that he probably skipped that habit tonight. He opened his eyes and looked at me but didn’t answer.
“Do you….have to go to the bathroom?” I asked, ignoring his lack of response.
“Just wanna go, K?” he said, standing up. He got up with a fair amount of effort and stood next to me, squeezing my shoulder-then heading for the door. I grabbed his card and wallet and shoved them into my bag, rushing to keep up. He was already near the door by the time I looked up. I waved to Mike again but he was busy with last call orders and bills. I got to the door and pushed it open. The cool night air was a gift. I breathed in deeply.
Kevin was standing with his hands in his pockets, waiting for me. I hooked my right arm in his left arm and led him to the car. I breeched my non-overbearing etiquette and opened his door for him. He didn’t seem to mind. He tumbled in the car and I put his seatbelt on for him.
“Are you OK?” I asked?
“Yeah”, he said in a rough whisper. I closed his door and went to the driver’s side to get in.
It was a quiet ride to his house. I had a Gatorade waiting for him that I’d grabbed from home when he called. He looked like a heap of a man, legs sprawled and his arms crossed over his chest. Even though he was asleep, he had a furled brow.
I managed to get him into the house although I wasn’t sure he was totally awake. He dropped to the floor and sat on the step by the front door once we got inside.
“Hey bud, what do you feel like doing?” I asked. He responded by shaking his head, still in his hands. I squatted down in front of him and put my hands on his hair for a moment and then on his knees. He picked his head up and looked at me. I smiled reassuringly at him. But, he looked sad.
“I know, you’re probably so pissed at Eddie. I’ll beat his ass when I see him” I said.
He puffed an unamused laugh. “It’s not Eddie. It’s Lanie.” He dropped his head. His voice sounded distant. “It didn’t work out.”
It was around 10:30 the next morning when I woke up. I’d slept in the spare bedroom at Kevin’s house-it had the best view of the front yard. It was still hazy outside but it looked like it was going to be a sunny day. The gently muted sun beamed through my window and cast a distorted square on the blue and white rumpled bedding. I got up and made the bed, cringing as I made the floor squeak.
There were some random and very vanilla pictures on the wall-clearly Lanie’s doing. They matched the comforter perfectly which I found intensely annoying. I knocked on the glass of the framed picture with my knuckle in protest of her recent breakup with Kevin and breaking his heart and I accidentally cracked the glass. Crap.
I went to the living room and sat on the sofa backwards, leaning over the back so I could peer out the front window. Kevin’s neighborhood was a kind of mix between those who had lived here since the neighborhood was built and those who just recently moved there. The street was tree-lined with an old time feel to it. The majority of the neighbors were over sixty. Kevin liked that because they were good at watching the house and telling him all the neighborhood gossip. He would help fix this or that for them and they’d give him food and were happy for the conversation. They all thought he was a letter-sweater kind of guy.
I made my way over to the bathroom to freshen up. I noticed signs that the bathroom had been used in the middle of the night: the hand towel was wet in the sink and the rugs were out of place. I rinsed my face and freshened up more quickly than I’d planned and opened the creaky door to Kevin’s room. He looked and smelled lousy. I knelt on the floor and leaned on the bed, placing my chin on my fist. I was quiet for a moment deciding what to do. He was sleeping on his back left forearm flung over his eyes, right arm across his belly.
He stirred, so I took it as an opportunity.
“Kev?” I said, gently. He responded with a hum.
“Kevin?” I tried again, shaking his index finger playfully. He looked right at me and rolled onto his back, rubbing his eyes hard. He sat up and looked at me. His eyes moved to my makeshift pajamas-his sweatpants rolled at the bottom and a T-shirt from his favorite BBQ place.
“Thief.” He accused flatly in a thick, gravelly voice.
“Hey, grabbed the first thing I could find.” I defended myself, laughing lightly. “How are you?” I asked.
“Rough.” He admitted.
Yes, that I could tell. I thought of offering to make eggs or something but figured I’d better not. Sometimes the smell of eggs when I’m hungover throws me right over the edge. Plus, he was real picky about his eggs and I didn’t think I could perfectly scramble eggs this morning. He hated any browned pieces.
Inspiration struck me: “How about this: I’ll go out and I’ll rent all the Superman movies-even the crappy ones. I’ll set up the family room with blankets and stuff so it will feel just like bed and if you’re feeling up to it later, we’ll order Chinese food - PJs the whole time. I’ll get 7up with extra lemons and as much tea and toast as you want. We’ll just hang out, no worries in the world. All day long. What do you think?” Please say yes, I thought. I loved the idea of a veg day.
He paused and I thought he wasn’t going to go for it. “Don’t you have to hang that door today? The big wood one?” he asked.
I was supposed to do that. But Murray wouldn’t mind at all if I did it on Monday early as long as it got done before the afternoon walk through.
/> “I got it covered…” I said with a Jersey accent. “So, what do you think?” He eyeballed me suspiciously.
“I think-‘Tea. Earl Gray. Hot’.” He said with a devious smile.
“Yes!” I said with quiet excitement. “OK, you stay here, I’ll run out and get the movies and set it all up.” I said, smiling ear to ear. Kevin plopped his head back on the pillow and left his hand in the air to wave goodbye.
I drove home to get some TV Tables before picking up the movies. Also, I wanted to talk with my Grampa and explain why I never came home. My good mood quickly faded. I’d left a note on the fridge to tell him I went out, but it was the first time in the whole time that I’d lived with him that I didn’t come home. I had a pit in my stomach about seeing him, knowing that I messed up. Part of me was practice-arguing that I am an adult and what I do is my business. The problem is that I respected and loved my Grampa and I felt lousy about every argument I was coming up with.
I pulled into the driveway and my Grampa was sitting on the front steps. Obviously he was bothered. Any normal Saturday he’d be inside watching college football. I stopped early in the driveway and got out when I saw him.
“Grampa I’m sorry. I slept in the spare bedroom at Kevin’s. He had a bad night. I really didn’t do anything wrong except not telling you where I was. I’m super sorry. He broke up with Lanie and Eddie left him at the bar. Eddie’s such a jerk. He called and I didn’t want to wake you but I didn’t realize I would stay over-in the spare bedroom I mean.” I was scattered and rambling. I really felt sorry.
My Grampa was quiet for what felt like I long time. I waited.
“Hon, you’re a good girl. I know you are. I have my ways of checking on you. It’s why I’m not always bugging you. You’ve always been very strong willed-even as a kid. Now then, if you need me I need you to tell me. Do you promise you’ll do that for me? I need you to promise because I’m not real good at working that stuff out.” He spoke as he looked at the ground between his feet. He only looked up at the end.
“Yeah Gramps, I’ll tell you if I need you. You know I’m sorry, right?” I asked.
“Yeah, I do. I’m not mad, I’m just concerned. You understand?” He replied, looking at me.
I was about to respond to let him know that I understood when Dave’s mean mother Mrs. Edwards came running over to us, frantic.
“Have you seen Dave?” she shrieked. “I think he’s taken the boat out by himself.” She was crying hysterically.
We shot looks around-no sign of Dave. We ran to the back of the house near the canal.
“We had the boat off the hoist because we were getting ready to run it up to dry dock for the winter.” She explained. We all ran to the backyard to see that the boat lines were hanging in the water.
My Grampa looked at me, “Stay here with Mrs. Edwards.”, he instructed as he jumped onto his boat. I could hear him get on the marine CB and contact the Coast Guard, asking them to look for a special needs man who took out a 1968 Lyman named Dehydrated.
“I have my cell phone. I’m going to look for him. Call me if he shows up.” I agreed, but I wasn’t very happy about it. I thought about arguing saying that if he found him he’d need help, but my Grampa had been a diver for the Navy. He wouldn’t.
I waited on our dock at the edge of the canal, peering out toward the lake, waiting to see Dave’s messy grin any minute. Mrs. Edwards sat at the picnic table shredding her eleventh tissue. She was in pieces about her son’s disappearance.
“He was so angry with us.” She told me as Grampa pulled out. “About his future and what we said might happen after we’re gone. He said we should know that he can take care of himself. That he’s not stupid.”
I didn’t say anything. She went on for a little while about how Down Syndrome children are so difficult, trying to justify her unkind words to him.
I thought I heard something. I held my hand up to her to stop talking. A bang maybe? I listened intently.
“Do you hear Dave?” she said, hopefully.
“Dunno. I’ll be back.”
Mrs. Edwards went into the house calling her husband’s name. I jogged over the lawns to the houses a ways down the road that had their yards directly on the lake. I thought I saw the boat bumping into one of the longer docks. I broke into a sprint. When I reached the boat, I jumped up and down on the dock calling Dave’s name. No answer. I ran farther down the dock and noticed something floating in the water on the next dock over. No. It couldn’t be him. I darted back down to the lawn and then ran as fast as I could to the next dock where I thought I saw something in the water.
It was Dave. I wanted to scream his name, but I only said it with a demanding sound to it. I said it hard expecting him to open his eyes and ask why I was pissed. He didn’t answer. He was under the side of the longest dock. He didn’t seem to be bleeding, but he wasn’t awake. I reached out as far as I could down into the water, my arm stinging with the cold temperature. I desperately reached out until I felt him under the dock. I grabbed a tiny piece of fabric and pulled it with all my strength. I figured that I would hold his head above water long enough to give me time to scream for help or call someone on my phone.
I pulled him over to me as close to the edge of the dock as I could and began to scream for help as often as it occurred to me that I needed some. The closest people were in the mini mansions set way back from the lake.
I couldn’t lift Dave out of the water. I mentally plowed through scenario after potential scenario where I could do something to help him. I thought about jumping in the water but I don’t know what I would do then. I couldn’t lift him over my head to get him out of the water and there was no beach where I could drag him. There was only a dark metal seawall no doubt full of rust and other things that make it not a good idea to drag a person across.
As I ran though the scenarios in my mind while I was kneeling at the edge of the dock holding Dave, I heard a slight plop in the water. My cell phone. It fell right out of my pocket and into the water, next to Dave’s leg. I wildly tried to grab it and not lose my grip on Dave. It sank.
In this hopeless situation with every second crucial, I let him go for what would hopefully be only a few seconds to re-orient my body. I lay down on the dock, so that the length was perpendicular to me. I grabbed Dave with my feet to keep him from floating away and I grabbed the dock boards’ sides under my butt. I shimmied my butt as close to the end of the side as possible closer and put my feet under him. My cries for help still came but they were quieter now and full of the sound of defeat. I tried to make my will completely unaware of the pain my voice seemed to feel. I told myself that the water was super high this year so this could be possible. The drop from the dock where I sat to the top of the water was not as far as it had been in past years. It could be possible.
With one leg, I pushed Dave’s legs down and at the same time with my other leg, I lifted his back, hoping that if I flipped him, I would have a chance of getting him out without hurting his back.
It was a sickening and unthinkable thing to put my friend face down in the water. I used that to further fuel my rage and put both of my legs under his now facedown body. With both of my feet under his waist, I slammed my head onto the dock and grabbed the cut lengths of wood behind my head, elbows pointing to the sky. I made my loudest call for help now and used that as a blast of energy to lift Dave out of the water with my legs. Then, I swiveled myself so that the back of his legs met the dock next to me. When Dave’s butt was on the dock next to me, I let go of the edge of the dock with my right arm and threw it out where Dave’s head would land to cushion it.
From the corner of my eye I thought I saw a man in jeans that came running. Dave fell into a heap, but he was no longer in the water. I rolled him onto his back. Without warning, my left hand tightened into a fist and I wheeled it from my side with great power to pound directly in the center of Dave’s chest. I had no idea what made me do that.
The man in jeans arrived, out of br
eath.
“What happened?” he said.
“Do you know CPR!?” I shouted at the man.
“Yes, yes.” He said in a near whisper, he seemed to be clearing his head when he realized he was needed. He moved Dave around and tilted his chin up to begin.
Within about twenty seconds, Dave was breathing. His breathing seemed much faster than usual. Oxygen and a stretcher arrived about two minutes later from the ambulance the man had called. It felt like it took forever.
The man in jeans let me use his phone to call Dave’s house. I knew which hospital he was going to, because I asked as they swept him away. But, I didn’t pass that info along. I told Dave’s mother that I didn’t know. Right or wrong, that’s what I decided to do. His Dad never even came out of the house. I thought it would be good for them to worry about him for a little longer. Maybe they would decide to be nicer parents.
I went with my Grampa to the hospital to check on Dave and call his parents. Dave was alive and stable. We sat in the waiting room for about half an hour before Dave’s parents arrived. His father always wore a beige fisherman’s hat and a lightweight beige coat. He had beige shoes and old man jeans on with a blue and white plaid dress shirt under his coat. He always frowned and his face was ugly-almost like anger had done that to him. I used to say ‘hi’ to him when I was little, but I just stopped after a while when he would never respond. He plopped himself in a chair on the opposite wall while Dave’s mother talked with my Grampa. We didn’t know much so we didn’t have much to pass along.
After a short time, they decided to admit Dave to the hospital and we were able to go and see him. I went in the room while my Grampa and Dave’s parents got the update from Dave’s doctor. I sat there watching Dave sleep and listened to the beep that was his heartbeat. I stood on his right, rubbing his chubby shoulder very gently. The doctor wanted to keep him for a few days just to be sure he was OK. They were going to bring in a psychologist to be sure Dave wasn’t trying to harm himself. I stared at Dave’s father through the doorway and imagined myself punching him in the stomach and then just walking out.
