by Leanne Davis
“Get in.” I nod towards the Jeep. She again obeys me without a word, freakishly docile. I’m not sure about her anymore. It’s still relatively warm, but I start it up and blast the heat even stronger. She covers the heat vent with her hands and leans her face towards it.
“What did you take?” I finally ask her.
She shrugs. “Ecstasy is the usual. It’s what he sells. But he doesn’t really say.”
“Anand?”
“Yes.”
I’m surprised she admits it. I casually take my phone out and do a quick search. I know it’s a club drug and often taken at rave parties. That’s about all I know. I groan as I scan the signs and symptoms. Increased sexual desire. Great. That explains something. Feeling incredible and going from hot to cold chills can be a common reaction. With confusion. That sounds just like Melissa.
“Do you take this often when you are with Anand?” She shrugs, keeping her gaze on the vent. I sigh. “Tell me the truth.”
She finally nods. “Yes, I take it pretty often with him.”
“What were you doing up there?”
“We went up there to spray paint a message on the tower. But when we got there, they were too scared to go up and do it. And then… they were gone. I don’t know where they went.” Her leg jiggles back and forth. She seems ready to get out and start jogging right then and there.
I don’t believe her. I feel like there must be more to her story. And why she is all alone.
“How long has it been since you took the pill?”
“I don’t know. A while. I think.”
I start the Jeep, my stomach tightening as I conclude I could have just found a sign of what is wrong with Melissa and a clue to her strange behavior. Never mind that I had sex with her and now I need to account for it. But first, I have to get her home and safe. At least, she is not tripping on drugs any longer while perched on a water tower.
“Where are you taking me?” she asks after a while. High or not, she is suddenly subdued towards me. I sense an odd, unrestrained energy emanating from her.
“Home, Missy. I’m going to take you home now.”
She turns, huddling in the puffiness of my too–large coat. “He doesn’t want me there. And he’s certainly not going to want me after this.”
“Too bad for him. Your dad will have to learn to deal with you. That, or I’m taking you to the hospital,” I reply. Sure I would. Her parents need to know what she did. Tonight she was perched on a water tower. What if, on another night, she doesn’t call me? Or she slips? Or who the hell knows what else?
“I don’t need to go to a hospital.” My headlights flash over the front of their house as I pull in. I come around to the passenger side and open it. She steps out and her eyeballs dart about. She says nothing so I prod her towards the front door. I knock and wait. Jessie opens the door minutes later and her eyes grow huge as she lets out a sound that is something between an exclamation and a moan. “Missy. What happened?”
“Let us in. She needs to get warm… or to cool down, not sure which.” I can feel her body trembling. Nerves? Drugs? Chills? Probably all three.
Jessie turns to the side immediately so we can get through. I keep my arm around Melissa, and rest it on her waist. Will jumps up from the recliner he was sprawled in, nearly dropping the computer that was in his lap to the ground. I ignore them as I march Melissa towards her bedroom and they, of course, follow her.
I set her down and help her peel the coat off. They are both watching us from the doorway, but thankfully don’t come forward or demand an explanation. They seem to sense something bigger is going on and are letting me handle it. Devoid of the bulky coat, I push Melissa down and pull all her covers over her. “Jessie, get her some water. Lots of fresh water.”
I have no idea what she needs most. But dehydration is listed as a possible side effect, and Lord knows, Melissa doesn’t often take good care of herself.
Jessie comes back with a water bottle full of water. “Drink,” I insist, still next to Melissa. Melissa quietly complies, keeping her eyes all the while on mine.
Finally, she crashes back and huddles under the covers. I rise to my feet and retreat. Then I start to leave. She seems quiet for now. I turn to let her sleep it off and head towards the living room, where they follow me. Naturally, they want answers.
The ensuing silence is thick and pervasive. Will sits down, hanging his butt on the edge of the couch. Jessie sits right next to him. They both look ready to spring off the sofa and attack me. I’m sorry for them.
“What… what happened?” Will asks.
I throw them my phone, letting them see the text message still printed there. They glance at it and then up at me. “I found her standing on the edge of the water tower. Tripping, she thought she could fly. I didn’t know she was, however. I just knew she was standing too close to the edge and kind of wavering all around. I swear to God, I thought she’d fall before I could get up there. Maybe she was lucid enough to know the heights wouldn’t bother me. I pulled her back. I—”
I turn my entire body and walk towards the large sliding door that overlooks their back deck and yard. I’m a chicken and there is no way I can tell them what I did next. I am having trouble coming to terms with it myself. I certainly can’t tell her parents that I had sex with their daughter while she was in this condition and still high up on a water tower.
“Tripping? As in drugs?” Will’s voice finally enters my silent ass–kicking.
I turn back; they need answers. She needs their help. “Yes. Ecstasy, or so she believes. Anand, the boyfriend, sells the stuff and gives it to her. Along with other stuff too. She doesn’t ask what it is. He left her there. I have no idea why she was all alone on top of a water tower. But she was and it was cold and slippery, yet she was fearlessly standing there. Clueless that she was in any danger. It could have easily gone the other way. How she didn’t fall before I got there is the real miracle.”
Will stares at his hands and sets them together before him. His tone is hollow as he says, “So this isn’t the first time?”
“No.” I come around the chair and flop down. “Quick internet search says it can cause confusion, loss of time, delusions, and a lack of focus. It can also kill brains cells and cause early dementia. Maybe that is why Melissa can’t work or hold a job.”
“Drugs?” Jessie asks finally. There is no feeling in her words. Just a neutral, monotone, hollow voice. I’m sure she must be in shock. Then she turns her head to glare at Will. “Your tough love almost got her killed. Good job, you’re almost Father of the Year.”
Then she gets on her feet and walks away, heading down the hall into Melissa’s room to keep vigil, I suspect. Will doesn’t raise his head. He doesn’t flinch or grow angry or try to defend himself. He doesn’t act as if Jessie said a word but keeps his tone soft and neutral. “I’m going to call her sisters. They’ll want to… to know.”
I nod and watch him rise to his feet.
Stumbling to my apartment, I can only try and make sense of what I did. Unlike Melissa, I can’t blame my actions on drugs. I have only myself to blame.
Chapter Seven
~Melissa~
I wake to a low murmur of voices. My eyes blink at the brightness of sun shining through my bedroom window. I slowly tilt my body upwards. Still dressed. Thirsty, I grab a full water bottle and down it. Then I get to my feet, feeling far older than my twenty years. I open my bedroom door and the voices grow just a bit louder. I peek down the hallway and see my parents and my sisters in the living room. Surprisingly, Seth sits off to the side of my family. He’s leaning forward in a chair, resting his elbows on his thighs and pointing his face downwards into his hands.
There is so much to address, I don’t even know where to start.
They hear me when I’m three steps from the end of the hallway. Christina jumps up and starts to go around the couch. Seth lifts his face off his hands, and stares at me. Something courses through my system. I feel the heat in my
cheeks and turn my eyes away from him. I can’t… I can’t figure it out. Not now. Not yet.
Christina’s small body nearly tackles me when she engulfs me in a balls–out embrace. I’m taken by surprise and have to plant my feet and brace myself to hold my balance against her unexpected pounce. I’m astonished since I believe she will be the first one to lecture me for behaving in such a dangerous and stupid manner. But no, she simply holds me close to her, crushing me in her embrace and wrapping her arms around me while flattening her hands on my mid–back. I’m stiff at first but eventually, I can’t help responding. Christina sniffles. She’s crying? For me? About me? Then I feel her head shaking.
“You’re so stupid, Missy.”
I know that. Hence the reason I often indulge in dangerous chemicals I should not. She sniffles again. “Why don’t you understand you don’t need shit like that? You are so much better than that. And besides, we love you. Come to me if you need help. Not some fucking drug dealer.”
Max is sitting just to my right. He flinches and I almost smile because growing up, Max’s brother was a fucking drug dealer. And now? Derek Salazar has been a guest in the Hendricks house many times. He worked for Dad when they were all young, and married his friend’s daughter later on. Derek and Olivia came to visit Max so often, they became kind of an extended family to all of us. But somehow, I sense my drug dealer, Anand, isn’t the noble, tragic, sympathetic drug dealer that Derek was to my family. Derek overcame a very sad childhood and worked hard to change for the better. I know nothing of Anand’s story, except his mother doesn’t give a shit about what he does or sells or screws.
Seth watches us. When my gaze finds his over my sister’s shoulders, he drops his head, almost as quickly as I turn away. Still no idea what to do with that.
Emily sits on the couch, staring down at her feet. She doesn’t rise or come over to give me love. I get it. I kind of expect it. She and I are just eighteen months apart. We grew up almost like twins with each other, even though we don’t look alike. Christina is five years older than me, and six years older than Emily. It’s like my parents raised two families. First with Christina, and then with us. She was often more like our babysitter than our sister. Her bossiness and authoritative personality make her more like our second mother. Never shy to express what she thinks, and quick to criticize whatever we did, Christina and I often fight and argue. Usually, it’s over how Christina won’t stop treating me like a child. Emily and I bicker all the time but for no real reason except that we can.
Mom and I already made our peace last night. Mom stayed with me all night. I felt her hand on my forehead when she lightly brushed my hair, and began stroking my face over and over. I awoke to feel her hot, wet tears on my arm when she buried her face on my bed, with my arm underneath her. “I’m sorry, Missy. So sorry we kicked you out…”
Her apologies and mine were emphasized by our tears. I gripped her hand and shook my head as my overbearing guilt nearly ripped my chest open. “I’m sorry, Mom, it was all my fault. All my doing. I could have died and…” I cried again. Mom then laid beside me until we slowly drifted off.
Dad? He stares across the room at me, his face impassive, like a granite statue. Nothing. Anger? Hatred? Remorse? I have no idea. He’s blank whenever he looks at me. Not a word to say. Not an action to express. I let Christina go and avert my gaze from my dad. I only amplify his hatred, repulsion, and resentment, making them more intense. I understand that. I just don’t know what to do about it.
It shatters me and I fall to the nearest chair. I stare down at my hands and press my fingernails into the fattest part of my palms. Filled with humiliation and shame, I can barely force myself to meet my family’s eyes.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for what I did. What I’ve been doing.”
My parents don’t answer. They’ve heard it many times before. I lift my face up and square my shoulders. Licking my lips, I finally tackle what I must. “I think there is something wrong with me. I don’t mean that I’m a drug addict. I mean, I’ve done drugs plenty of times, I admit. I’ve been careless and what I did last night is inexcusable. I don’t plan to do it ever again.” I glance around, and see a lot of eyes are on me. I take another deep breath. “I didn’t plan to do it, however. I don’t usually plan the things I end up doing. The things you all hate so much about me. And get angry at me for. I know you want me to change. I want to change too, but I just can’t seem to accomplish it. Or figure out how to go about it.”
Quiet follows my words. I have captured everyone’s undivided attention. No one expects to hear that out of me. So sure, why not? This is what I do. I surprise them all the time. I never follow what anyone suspects or restrict my thoughts. Sure, it affects the way I live my life. Just this once, maybe what I have to say won’t be such a terrible surprise. Maybe for once, I can try and learn something. Lying in bed, still restless, I was too wired to sleep, so I thought long and hard about what I almost did that night.
“What do you have in mind?” Christina asks, now sitting near me. She’s a little protective and I’m not only surprised, but also touched by it.
“I was hoping you’d let me come home.” I glance at Dad, then away.
Christina bristles. “Well, for fuck’s sake. Of course you will come home. I don’t know what the hell anyone is thinking or how it could possibly help if we just kicked you out.” She glares at Dad, who doesn’t flinch, grimace, or even lower his eyebrows or blink his eyes. Christina’s resentment toward him at that moment is totally lost on him. I admire Christina’s ability to stand up to Dad. He never intimidates her like he does me.
“I’m asking because I would like some more time. I thought about it last night. What I did. Why I do it. Maybe…maybe I need professional help. Like a counselor or something. Someone who can figure out why I do things like that… and why I do other unpredictable things.”
“You would do that willingly?” Mom asks. Her voice is cautious, as if she’s afraid it might be another of my flights of fancy. Something I start and never finish. Who can blame her? Or even Dad, really? With my history, it’s a good bet that’s what will end up happening. I’d bet against my success if I wanted to win. And I’m supposed to have control of myself and my actions.
“Yes.” I glance around. Solemn faces meet my gaze. A chill runs through my body. Everyone is worried about me. Even I’m worried about me. Something inside me must be terribly wrong to make me do such insane things. Crazy things. Impulsive things; and yet, what reason could there be? Not like I can blame it on my family. Or claim I wasn’t loved and cared for and supported. I understand in so many ways why Dad gets so pissed off at me. There is no excuse. What else can I do but try to find out why? “I really want to try.”
“So… for an indefinite amount of time, you’ll be living here, mooching off Mom and Dad? You nearly throw yourself off the old water tower while indulging in drugs and now you think you need professional counseling to figure out why? I know why. It’s because you’re a spoiled brat, unwilling to work or ever grow up. Who will be paying for your enlightenment? Oh gee, let me guess, Mom and Dad.” Emily’s harsh words fill the room, and they are totally accurate and true. I nod, meeting her dark–eyed glare with mine.
“Emily!” Christina exclaims.
Emily whips her head towards Christina. “Don’t even start, Christina, I have a right to feel the way I do. You can’t make me agree with you.”
“Emily, this isn’t helping,” my mom adds, and her tone is gentle, coaxing; always the peacemaker.
I grind my teeth to restrain the childish retort I am dying to throw at my little sister. She’s so fucking smug. Sitting there, just glaring at me. She has all the brains and accomplishments and sport talent to merit a partial athletic scholarship for track, and she’s attending Eastern, and she vilifies me? What does she know about what it’s like to be me? I have none of those things. And I am so sure that something must be wrong with me. Sneering at her, I say, “Oh, how shocking for me
to discover which of my sisters feels that way. Oh, yes, of course, Dad’s little princess.”
Yeah, it pops out. I couldn’t hold it in. I shut my eyes and try to count backwards. As I stated before, I do not handle criticism well. My brain seems to short circuit anytime someone finds fault with me, even when it’s fully deserved and accurate and they’re pointing it out to me for my own good. I can’t seem to take anyone’s disapproval without losing my shit. I’m in the wrong here… as always. My family’s logical concern and subsequent freak-out was only because I might have died last night. To learn I was also on drugs must have been a blow unlike any of the others I launched at them before. Of course, my smug statements are useless and do nothing to help the situation at all.
Emily jumps to her feet. Her fists are clenched as she glances back at Dad. Is she seeking his support, advice, or just a nod to continue? Dad’s face remains blank. I don’t get it. Not only the neutral, unreadable facial expressions but also his perpetual silence. Not. One. Damn. Word. I’m almost more scared of that than if he started yelling at me when he saw me. That would have made more sense. That could be explained. What he’s doing now is a mystery. I want him to do or say something about my unacceptable behavior. I don’t know how to handle his silence on the matter.
“You don’t get rewarded for screwing up,” snaps Emily.
“Well, what would you like to happen, Emily? Should we kick her out? Throw her to the wolves? God, you better hope you’re never in need of help or understanding or time or just love. Sometimes, things don’t go perfectly right or smoothly in your plans. And the only thing you’re revealing right now is how damn immature and young you still are.” Christina reprimands her before I could even find the words.
