Mercy Rule

by Tom Leveen

  I focus on Cadence again as Joel manipulates the lights to wash the makeshift stage with red, and dims the backdrop to a low green. Brandon dutifully pretends to play a solo. Cadence’s eyes are still closed, and her body drifts lazily back and forth.

  She’s beautiful.

  The song ends. Cadence and Brandon hold their places for a moment—staying in character, I guess—until Johnny calls out, “Cut! Nice.”

  “Cool!” Cadence says, and bounds off the stool with her usual enthusiasm. “Send it to me.”

  “Will do,” Johnny says. “And, hey, who is this guy?”

  “Yeah!” Brandon says, scowling. He rips the guitar off his shoulder and lunges for me.

  They all head for me, forming a tight semicircle, eyes narrow, teeth bared. I’m going to get eaten alive by dorks. Dorks who are a lot bigger and older than me.

  Cadence only laughs. And when the semicircle of guys gets within about three feet of me, they laugh, too, smacking each other on the shoulders and saying things to me like, “What’s up,” and “Just kidding,” and “Only messin’ with ya, man.”

  “He’s Danny,” Cadence says. “He was just over for dinner.”

  Despite them all being at least seniors, or maybe even in college, they all go, “Ooooo!” like middle school girls. They also seem to think this is really, really funny.

  “Whatever,” Cadence says. “See ya.”

  The guys all say goodbye to her, like she’s their own adopted sister. Slipknot starts playing again as she leads me back outside.

  “What did you think?” she says.

  “That was weird,” I say, except, even thought that’s true, it’s not all that’s true. What’s true is that her face, framed by sharp, dark bangs, shadowed by blue light overhead … her face had hung like an oval moon, a goddess of dark happiness. I feel myself shifting around for about the fifth time that night, and struggle with the need to readjust my jeans.

  “Yeah, but in a cool way, huh?” she says, reaching the porch.

  “Sure. Yes.”

  She climbs up the two steps and stops, swinging around on one of the posts holding up the roof.

  “Who was the band?” I ask. “The singer in there.”

  “Mazzy Star is the band. Hope Sandoval’s the singer. You like it?”

  “Yeah. You looked—”

  I stop short and Cadence lifts her eyebrows.

  “Like you were having fun.” Not what I wanted to say, but it’s what I can.

  “It’s this thing they do every so often,” Cadence says. “Better than getting hammered, I guess. Or, you know, high.”

  I want to look away when she says it. Except I can’t. I keep staring into her eyes. They are so big, and so dark.

  “Did you have a good time?” she says.

  “Yeah. I guess.”

  “You guess? Gee, thanks!”

  “I just—”

  “I’m kidding, Danny. You never smile, you know that?”

  I guess I do. Know that, I mean. “Why did you invite me over?”

  It surprises me that she doesn’t answer right away. Cadence isn’t one to stop and think, but that’s what she’s doing now. Like she’s deciding how much to tell me.

  She keeps swinging from the post with one hand, back and forth, like a gate. “Because my family’s cool,” she says finally. “Don’t you think?”

  “Yeah …”

  “My dad, my brother. His friends. They’re good guys. You could be a good guy.”

  “So now I’m a bad guy?”

  “Not like that. I just mean that you could talk about whatever’s bumming you out all the time. Or just choose not to let it bug you as much. I don’t know.”

  “Easy for you to say.”

  “Yes. It must be that sunny disposition of mine.”

  The front door opens, backlighting her. Her dad steps out, stretches, then drops his arms.

  “Oh, sorry,” he says. “Didn’t know you were out here.”

  The way he says it makes it clear that he absolutely knew we were. He’s checking up on her. On us. Like I might be doing something to her. Okay, well, I would if I had half a chance. If she’d let me.

  “Hey, Dad,” she says.

  Mr. Fuller—Lieutenant Fuller, it turns out; I got that much from Audry during dinner—comes over and hugs her with one beefy arm. She clings to his side, wrapping her arms around his middle.

  “Did you make a song or whatever it is they do in there?” he asks me, keeping an arm around Cadence.

  “No. Cadence did.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Mm-hmm,” Cadence says. “I think it’ll be cool. Johnny probably already posted it, wanna see it?”

  “Of course,” Mr. Fuller says.

  “Sweet!” Cadence pulls away from him and says to me, “You want a ride home?”

  “I’m just going to text Pete to come get me. Thanks.”

  Cadence gives me a look that I can’t quite interpret. “Okay. I’m going to go look up my video. Can I send you the link?”

  “Totally.” Footage of her in that blue light, to replay over and over? Hell yes.

  “Cool. See you later. Thanks for coming!”

  I wave, and she bounds into the house. I try to figure out how to say good night to her dad, but he clomps down the steps in bare feet. He comes over to me and crosses his arms.

  “Nice having you over,” he says.

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “You don’t gotta ‘sir’ me,” Mr. Fuller says. “You all right, son? You were pretty quiet all night.”

  “It’s nothing. Um … you have a nice family.”

  “That I do.”

  “And I don’t think you have to worry about me and Cadence. Um. If you were.”

  “Oh, so that’s it. Well. Hang in there. You got a couple years yet of school. You never know.”

  “Right. You never know.”

  “Just remember what I told you.”

  “Anything I do to her, you’ll do to me.”

  “That’s right. Take care, Danny.”

  Mr. Fuller goes inside. From the garage, I hear a metal song start up. Multicolored lights flash in the space between the garage door and the concrete. I wonder how late they’ll be doing this. If the neighbors get pissed.

  What song I’d choose to do.

  I walk out of Cadence’s yard and stop. I face her house, and light a cigarette.

  If we got married someday, her dad would be my father-in-law. Johnny would be my brother-in-law. We’d have Thanksgiving here, maybe. I’m suddenly seized with a burning need to see her room, see what she chooses to put on her walls, on her bed, in her closet. Rooms tell everything. There are no secrets, even if that’s where we try to hide them most. Pieces of us slip out.

  So that’s what it’s like to eat together without talking about grades or being in trouble. That’s what it’s like to have an older brother or sister that you actually like, who you can actually hang out with sometimes, even if their friends are around.

  So that’s what it’s like.

  The pain in my chest, which started before I even took a bite of dinner, is getting worse. It’s like an emotional heart attack. Or maybe a real one, but I doubt it. Something about the food, or maybe the way they served it, or just the atmosphere of the house …

  Everything that is wrong with my life is right with theirs.

  I stand and smoke and watch Cadence’s house for two cigarettes before Pete comes to pick me up.

  DREA

  I gesture for Kelly to come inside. We pay no attention to my mom still weeping at the kitchen table. I can tell it weirds Kelly out, but what am I supposed to do, you know?

  We get to my room, and Kelly jumps right to it again. “What is happening, what’s going on? Why is your mom crying like that?”

  “I just, can we go?” I say. “Just drive someplace? Please?”

  Kelly’s concerned/angry face relaxes, like she suddenly understands. “Sure.”

  Except th
en Dad shows up. He doesn’t actually step into my room, he just hangs around the doorway.

  “Hey,” he says, and looks surprised to see Kelly. He must not’ve heard her come in.

  “What’s up,” Kelly scowls at him, folding her arms.

  Dad dismisses her with a half smile like he’s so not impressed. “You out for the night, Andi?”

  “Probably.” I start stuffing things into my bag. Almost at random, honestly. A paperback, a notebook, a sweater, a couple of markers. None of it makes sense, I just have to be moving.

  “Going to Kelly’s?”

  “No, she’s driving me to the airport.”

  This takes him a second to digest. Am I just being a smart-ass? He screws his eyebrows together and squints one eye.

  “You are kidding, right?”

  “Whatever.” I can’t even look at him anymore.

  “Right. You need any money, or … ?”

  “Nope. Just solitude.”

  He looks confused.

  “Bye, Dad,” I say.

  He takes the hint and goes away. Kelly closes the door behind him. “Will you please tell me what’s going on, Drea?”

  I zip my bag shut. “My mom said she screwed some guy. Can we just go?”

  “Seriously? Well … did she, or?”

  “I don’t know. Doubt it. I don’t care. I don’t think my dad does either. Whatever.”

  “That’s some seriously nasty stuff. You sure you’re okay?”

  “I am.” I can tell my face says differently. “Can we go?”

  We stalk out of my bedroom as fast as possible. No one stops us. We almost run from the house to Kelly’s truck.

  “I hate them,” I say as Kelly pulls out of my neighborhood.

  “I know. That’s okay.”

  “I wish they hadn’t ever had me.”

  “But then I’d be all lonely, so shut up.”

  That makes me laugh, suddenly. I didn’t expect it. I cover my mouth, like it’s not allowed. Then at a stoplight, Kelly whips out her phone and snaps a selfie of the two of us. I laugh again when she shows me the result. She’s making a face, and I look stoned or something. She takes another while I’m laughing. It looks much better. I look human.

  “You need ice cream,” Kelly decides, and she drives toward Sugar Bowl, which is this great ice cream shop near school, next to an indie coffee place called Jamaican Blue.

  Kelly plays her music loud on the way and sings along. After a minute of listening to her, I turn the stereo off.

  “Why is it okay? That I hate them?”

  “Well, I guess it’s sort of not, really, but I understand.”

  “You hate your parents, too?”

  “I … understand, is all. No, I don’t hate them. They’re just busy. I mean, they have five kids, I get that, they can’t make it to stuff, it happens.”

  Something clicks in my mind right then. I drop my eyes to the stereo for a second while I figure it out. Then I look at Kelly again.

  “Did you ever try out for choir?”

  “Uh, no.”

  “Why? Because they would have taken you. You know that, right?”

  Kelly laughs, but it’s forced, I can tell. “What? God, Drea, what are you even talking about? That makes …”

  She stops and thumps the steering wheel with her thumb a few times, staring out the window.

  “… way too much sense,” Kelly finishes a second later. “Look, they can’t come, all right? They just—they couldn’t. Not to a choir performance or a play or a band concert or a game. So, yeah, I try out for the stuff I suck at … because my parents don’t need me all pressuring them to try and force one more thing into their schedule. So I just do what they tell me. I just babysit. It’s all I know.”

  “Um … babysit who?” I say, because right now, she and I are hanging out, and that’s not school or babysitting.

  “My little brothers and sisters,” Kelly says.

  “Oh. For a second I thought you meant me.”

  And Kelly says, “Well, sometimes.”

  My eyes harden. “That’s what you … ? Oh, okay. Great.”

  I throw open the door and stomp down the red brick sidewalk of Third Avenue. I don’t look back, but I hear Kelly scrambling out after me. “Dre, wait, that’s not what I meant!”

  “Yes it is! I’m not a kid,” I say over her shoulder, still stalking away from her. There aren’t many people out, but the few who are take notice. I don’t care.

  “Yes you are,” Kelly says, taking long strides to catch up. It’s pretty easy with those long legs of hers.

  Her words stop me cold. I spin around. “Oh, I am? Well then so are you!”

  Kelly reaches me. “Okay, fine, I am, but Dre, I’m trying to help you.”

  “I don’t need help, Kelly.”

  “I’m trying to save your life!”

  “It doesn’t need saving!” I yell at her. I cross my arms and add, “Maybe you just need it to need saving.”

  That stops her in her tracks. Slowly, Kelly walks sort of backwards to a bench and sits down, hands in her lap. She looks like I slapped her across the face.

  Even though it’s sort of what I meant, it’s also not. I sit down beside her. “Sorry.”

  Kelly sighs. “Don’t be. You might be right.”

  “I didn’t mean to—”

  “Yeah you did. It’s okay.” Kelly faces me. “But, Dre, I don’t cut myself with knives. That’s messed up, there’s no other way to put it. It is not okay. Ever. Maybe I’m not the most sane person on the planet, but I don’t hurt myself. Why do you do that?”

  I do not want to get into this. Maybe I should have thought of that ten minutes ago.

  “It’s them, right? Your mom and dad? Because I get it. I do. I can see it when I’m over there. But what you’re doing doesn’t help. Prove me wrong.”

  I still say nothing. Because she’s right.

  Kelly scoots a little closer. “What do you want, Dre? Really.”

  “I just want to tell them,” I say, staring at the sidewalk and not moving. “That’d be kind of nice. Just tell them what it’s like for once. And I want Dad to tell Mom he loves her.”

  “So tell him that.”

  “He won’t hear me. They won’t hear me.”

  “Have you ever tried?”

  “No …”

  “Okay, so, that’s something to think about then. It’s better than making yourself bleed. And I mean, what’s the worst that could happen?”

  “They could have cataclysmic heart failure.”

  Kelly put an arm over my shoulders. “In which case, everyone wins.”

  I try holding back a laugh, but fail. Then I hug her, feeling like this awkward senior girl is more like a sister to me than either of my parents is an actual parent. If that makes sense.

  We go have ice cream, and it is awesome.

  DANNY

  “So?” Pete says the instant we pull away from Cadence’s house. “Did you get any?”

  “If I was five percent more masculine, I would knock you out right now.”

  “Whoa, man. Just kidding. Jesus. But no, did you?”

  “We were having dinner with her mom and dad. So, no. Plus her dad would have me assassinated if I tried anything.”

  “Bummer.”

  We drive in silence for bit—silence except for Pink Floyd, of course. Just before reaching my neighborhood, Pete says, “What’s the matter with you, man?”

  “What.”

  “I dunno, you seem … unplugged.”

  “Yeah, well.”

  “Dude, so you like, you really like her.”

  “I guess.”

  “‘I guess,’ yeah, okay. Just own it, man.”

  “Fine, I own it. She’s hot.”

  “Naw, that’s not it. She is cute, I’ll give you that. But that’s not enough. If you just wanted to sleep with her, then that might be enough. But you want something else. Yeah?”

  “Yeah.”

  “So what do you
like about her?”

  “She’s a crazy person.”

  “Ha! That’s sure true.”

  “But I mean, I’m a crazy person. I’m legit crazy. What do you think I got all those pills for? It’s for being crazy. That’s why they give them to me. But she’s crazy the other way. Like shit just doesn’t get to her. And when she’s talking, which of course is all the god damn time … I don’t feel pissed, I don’t feel like a psycho. I guess that’s why.”

  Pete pretends to look at me suspiciously. “Are you a psycho?”

  I light a cigarette. “I guess we’ll see.”

  “Welp, if that’s how you feel about ol’ Cadence, you may as well tell her. What’s the worst that could happen?”

  “Pretty sure I don’t need to answer that.”

  Pete laughs. But I wasn’t kidding.

  We pull up in front of my house. I put my smoke out in his ashtray and get out of the car, ready to slam the door and walk away, but the kitchen curtains are open and I can see inside. The pain in my chest blazes to life again. A heart attack would be great right about now.

  “You know what you’re going to be for Halloween?” I say.

  “That’s like a month away, dude.”

  “Yeah, but it’s coming. It’s even starting to cool off at night.”

  “I don’t really do Halloween. Except for candy corn. I love that shit. Hey, maybe I’ll be a drug dealer.”

  “Clever. Thanks for the rides.”

  “You know what you wanna be?”

  “Yeah. Pretty sure. Later.”

  I shut the car door and go inside the house. I get to my room as fast as I can so I won’t have to talk to anyone in the kitchen. Unsurprisingly, no one seems to notice or care.

  In my room, I do a search for Mazzy Star, and download every single song I can find.

  Meeting Cadence’s family has set a vat of acid on low boil in my stomach. Not angry. Not at them, anyway. Jealous, I guess. That’s not a word I normally use to describe myself. But after thinking about it for an hour and half, it’s the only one that fits.