by Navi' Robins
“Bowling tonight Mom?” Sarah asked.
“Yes baby and I’m running a little late. Aiden, do you think you could clean the kitchen for me?”
I hated cleaning the kitchen and washing dishes was worse than torture. But today I was in a tremendously good mood and I blurted out, “Sure, Mom!” before I knew what I was saying.
“Oh wow,” my mom replied. “It’s usually a fight with you.”
“It’s okay, Mom. Have fun, I got it.”
“Mom?”
“Yes sweetie,” my mom replied to Sarah.
“When are we going to meet him?” Sarah asked, never looking up from the magazine she was reading. The sound of the question coming out of Sarah’s big mouth caused an uncomfortable feeling to take over the mood in the kitchen. My mom gasped and I just turned away and closed my eyes. My mom hung her head down, searching for something, anything to say. I could tell she was trying to decide whether to come clean or keep the lie going.
She looked up and I could sense she decided to choose the latter. I could only assume she wanted to keep it a secret to protect our feelings. But at this point it would not be a smart move with Sarah. I would understand but Sarah wouldn’t and Sarah doesn’t know how to let things go. So I moved quickly to divert a disaster.
“Mom,” I blurted out, “we’ve known for a while that you haven’t been actually bowling.”
“Oh my God!” my mom screamed.
“But…but…” I continued. “We are cool with it. It’s cool you’re dating someone. Of course we would like to eventually meet him, but in your own time.”
“We just want to size him up and make sure he’s cute enough for you Mom,” added Sarah. “Because if he’s going to be around us then we need to match. We can’t have three beautiful people and one ugly person. We have to coordinate.”
“Ha!” My mom laughed. I could tell she was relieved at how we were taking it and suddenly the mood in the room lightened.
“Yes baby, he’s pretty cute.”
“What’s the mystery man’s name?” Sarah asked.
“His name is Jason.”
“Soooo—“
“Okay,” I interrupted Sarah’s next question. Sarah was driven by impulses and I didn’t want her making a bigger mess than she already had. “So Mom, you get ready and I’ll clean the kitchen and Sarah can do…well, whatever she does on her free time.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes Mom! Now go and get ready.”
My mom smiled at me and I could see the appreciation in her eyes. She placed her hand gently on my cheek, smiled, and silently mouthed thank you. At that moment I felt a wave of love come over me. Nothing mattered but seeing my mom happy and to see her appreciation for me stepping up was a great moment for both of us. It was one of the few times in my life when I was able to make a real emotional difference in her life.
I waited till my mom was out of hearing distance before I went in on Sarah.
“Sarah, what the hell was that? Do you even know what you could have done to Mom? You are just unbelievable at times.”
“Really, says who? You, Mom or Manny? Whatever! Mom’s been tip-toeing around here for over six months. When was she ever going to come clean? After a year? When they got engaged? Or better yet when she got pregnant?”
“Sarah, don’t you dare go there!”
“Oh yeah, I went there: ‘Oh Sarah, Aiden, I’m going bowling tonight and by the way, I’m getting married and having a baby!” Sarah teased while mocking our mom’s mannerisms and accent.
“Sarah, that’s not fair at all!”
“Oh really? You were too yellow to push Mom to come clean so I took charge. You should be thanking me instead of trying to get on my case. Big bro, you never take charge, you just cruise along. Well, I’m not a cruiser, I’m gonna say something. Now it’s out, Mom feels better, and all is right in the world.”
“Sarah, you think your no-holds-barred approach always works, but it doesn’t. Tonight was one of those times. Yeah, you blurted it out but you didn’t see that Mom felt you were judging her, did you? You said what you said and then you kept quiet. Not once giving Mom the respect that she deserves. You could’ve at least said something to ease her fear of us having a problem with her seeing someone.
Mom has been here for us since Dad died, never complaining or neglecting us for her own personal agendas, and that’s how you repay her?”
I could see my point was starting to sink in with Sarah because her usual arrogant and snobbish attitude started to disappear with every word. She began to hold her head down and play with her fingers. She always did that when she felt really bad about something. Which was rare so it wasn’t hard to recognize.
“You’re right, I messed that up big time, okay? I’m sorry, I just thought…”
“You thought? Sarah, were you even thinking?”
“Probably not, but I wasn’t trying to hurt her feelings, not on purpose,” she whined. I have to admit, if you hadn’t stepped in, it could have ended badly. Thanks for pulling my foot out of my mouth.”
“Oh anytime!”
“Well! I’m heading to my room now, big bro. Nice heart-to-heart,” she said sarcastically while exhaling forcefully.
“I bet it was!” I snapped back.
I decided to head to my room as well to check my Facebook page and play some “Call of Duty” on Xbox Live with Tony. Tony and I were breaking their backs on Xbox Live as a team. They hated to see us log in together. My experience online wasn’t as complete as others because I didn’t have my camera anymore. I had to get rid of my Xbox camera a few months back because of sore losers doing crazy shit on their cameras. The tea bagging was the last straw, so I just unplugged the camera and tossed it out the window. About an hour into playing, my mom knocked on my door to say she was leaving. No bowling bag or jogging outfit, she was dressed to impress. I could sense the relief she now felt being able to get dressed for a date instead of bowling.
“I’m leaving now.”
“Okay Mom, have fun and make sure you’re back at a decent hour, young lady,” I teased.
“Oh, excuse me big daddy,” she played along. “I’ll make sure I’m home before the rooster crows.”
“Seriously though Mom, have fun and be safe.”
“I will sweetie. Bye and look after your sister.”
“I will.”
Saturday morning at breakfast my mom told us she discussed the events in the kitchen the night before with Jason and wanted to know if it was okay if he came over one day next week to meet me and Sarah. It was kind of sudden but we agreed because it was long overdue. The rest of the weekend was uneventful for the most part, besides the occasional argument with Sarah. I was looking forward to Monday and the tryouts for the football team. The prospect of being a “Deerfield High Warrior” was exciting. Back then I didn’t want to admit that I was intrigued by the thought of being popular. The cheering crowds, the extra attention from the girls and all the other perks that came along with it. Yeah, I was more than intrigued, but it went against what I believed…but again, I was a teenager and didn’t really understand what it was to really believe in something. My only concern was my homicidal intentions towards Jasmine. I was just praying she didn’t decide to become a cheerleader; that wouldn’t be a good thing for either of us.
The very thought of Jasmine being a cheerleader whisked my troubled mind away to me playing in a championship game. I could hear the crowd’s eruptive cheers from the stands encouraging me to run faster towards the end zone. I could smell the sweat from my jersey; feel the grit of the soil on my arms and the turf beneath my feet. I now imagined Jasmine on the sidelines in those short skirts with pom-poms in both hands. Smiling and cheering me on as I run down the field towards pay dirt. Her smile is so flirtatious and inviting, almost hypnotic. Nothing like the smirk she gave me in that waking nightmare on the first day of school. Then suddenly I decide to take a detour and run straight towards her with my arms outstretched like
a child running towards its mother to be wrapped in her loving arms. Jasmine was now looking directly in my eyes, licking her shapely lips; enticing me to come in closer for a big juicy wet kiss.
I’m now running towards her at full speed and right before our bodies’ meet I ram my arm into her throat with so much force she can’t even scream as she falls flat on her back gagging for air from a broken windpipe. I’m smirking now watching her on the ground gripping her neck and gasping for air. Laying there beautiful and helpless with the look of fear in her eyes knowing her time had come. I became excited at the thought of her being at my mercy with her life in my hands, or better yet her life at my feet. I immediately began to stomp my cleats on her throat over and over again. The crowd began cheering louder each time my cleats smashed into her throat apparently driven wild by my depraved acts of violence. Blood was starting to splatter all over my cleats and football uniform until I was drenched in her blood. She tried screaming but the only thing that came out her mouth was blood and lots of it.
I kept going harder and faster until she eventually stops moving. The smirk on my face was now transformed until a full blown smile and when I finally returned from my imaginative stay at the Bates Motel I found myself sitting on my bed humming and hugging myself while rocking back and forth. A warm feeling of satisfaction came over me, the same warm feeling I got Friday walking home in the sunlight. It felt like I was caught up in some kind of rapture. Just the thought of extinguishing her life made me feel warm and safe; right as rain after a scorching-hot summer’s day.
I quickly snapped out of my morbid fantasy of murder and mayhem. What is wrong with me? Why are my thoughts of Jasmine so violent and why did those thoughts make me feel…at peace? This change that was coming over me was terrifying. What was I becoming and why was she the focus of all my rage? Closing in on my seventeenth birthday and the eve of the football tryouts, I was transforming into something so dark and evil that looking in the mirror was almost impossible. Even my best friend was beginning to doubt me and he knew me better than anyone. I could see the fear and confusion in his eyes every time I would share another dark fantasy of harming the most attractive girl at school. I knew he was terrified of the results if I were to act out these desires. The knowledge of my sickness and him doing nothing, would be a burden too heavy for anyone and would scar him for life. I understood the magnitude of me sharing my transformation with him but he was my best friend. Someone I trusted with almost everything and he trusted me with the same. I quickly glanced around my bedroom trying to make sure that I was back in the real world and not still trapped inside my mind. I decided to divert my thoughts towards my upcoming birthday next week and away from my violent thoughts.
For my seventeenth birthday my mom promised me a car. I already had my license in preparation for my upgrade in mobility. She wouldn’t tell me what make or model car I would get but she assured me it would be brand-new. I was expecting something like a Ford Focus or a Chevy Malibu. Both cars are nice but not what I really wanted. My dream car was the 2010 Chevy Camaro. It had to be the most beautiful car on the road to me. When I first laid eyes on it in those Transformers movies, it was love at first sight. But the canary yellow was not my style; it was much too bright for my taste. I wanted a black and red beast of a Camaro, with matching black and red rims and a banging sound system. Definitely the SS model with a ground effects kit. I could just picture myself in that car rolling like a badass! The looks I would get driving to school in that car would be priceless. The roar of the engine turning heads as I pulled into the student parking lot, the smiles from the girls while they secretly plotted a reason to ask me for a ride home. YES! What a dream!
But it was only a dream. I strategically placed a picture of the exact model and color of the Camaro on my PC as a desktop wallpaper. From time to time when my mom would come in my room I would say, “Hey Mom, isn’t this the most beautiful machine you’ve ever seen?” She would answer sarcastically,
“Yes it is, and you can have that exact beautiful machine in your own driveway when you get a job and your own home.”
Judging by the same response again and again there was a very slim chance that my dream would become a reality.
Don’t get me wrong I was grateful for a brand-new car. No more bus rides and my weekends would be much more interesting now that I would no longer be confined to Deerfield. So I was really looking forward to my birthday. Plus the party that Tony’s cousin was throwing for me at his club was going to be “off the hook,” with VIP treatment and all the trimmings. I was planning on sneaking a drink or two in, but with my current mental state, I was reconsidering that. But I still planned on having a great time on my birthday nonetheless. Well, that’s if I make it to my birthday alive and free, because at the rate I was going I may find myself behind bars or worse.
It’s strange how we remember the events that change us or our perspective on life and the world around us, but we often forget the things we do that affect others. I remember my first kiss, my first R-rated movie, my first so-called girlfriend, and the first time I won a tournament. But I don’t remember the first time I hurt my mom, the first time I insulted Sarah or the first person I was rude to. I don’t remember any of those things. I guess each of us live on our own secluded island in life. We are our own castaways and the only rain we see is the rain that drenches us directly. We never see the hurricane on the other island at the same time it’s storming in our lives.
Nor do we care to see it. Back then my life was one-dimensional; I saw things through my own eyes. Had I seen things differently I would not have involved Tony in my mental troubles because his burden of silence was changing his life and would start events to unfold that would spiral out of control over the years to come. But again I only saw my island being bombarded by a hurricane and I needed help. I didn’t think that by inviting him to my island I was also inviting danger on his island as well. How selfish of me to assume he could and wanted to be involved in my decent into madness.
CHAPTER SIX
The time on Monday moved at a pace that made watching paint dry feel like watching a big-budget action movie. Each minute seemed like an hour and an hour seemed like a week. I was extremely excited about the tryouts and I couldn’t hide it. Sarah teased all morning, calling me a virgin schoolgirl on her way to the prom with the most popular boy in school. Yeah, she was trying to spoil my excitement but I wasn’t going to have my day ruined by anything. The more I thought about it the more shocking it was to me how much I wanted to make the team. Aiden, the one that always believed that to conform to the popular crowd was worse than death. Yes, it was me now, wanting the new experience, wanting the limelight that came with making the team. It made me realize how shallow my mindset really was. I began to realize we are all influenced by one thing or another.
Was my view of being popular my own, or was it a result of the negative way I processed it due to others and my experiences with those considered to be popular? My best friend was popular, very popular. His presence at school lit up a room and being in his company was considered by most to be a blessing. Yet he was my best friend. I trusted him with my darkest secrets. But I didn’t associate Tony with my limited view on the social status of being popular. From my shallow point of view, a popular person would have ratted me out by now. Exposing my secret desire to hurt Jasmine; hoping that exposing this new juicy info would raise his stock even further amongst our peers. But he didn’t.
Don’t get me wrong, I do know quite a few people who are popular that would’ve spilled the beans. But I began to see that there is always more than one side to a story. Everyone has a different approach and just because you are popular doesn’t mean you have to be a dick. Life is lived on a case-by-case basis and I was going to have to start learning to see people the same way.
Finally! The bell rang, school was out and it was time to head over for tryouts. When I got over to the field Sarah with a look of sarcasm in her eyes, and Tony with a look of encou
ragement was already waiting for me. As I walked on the field, some of the team began heckling the hopefuls. There clearly were some shockers on the field this year, myself included. People you wouldn’t dream would try out and they didn’t hide their surprise.
“Wait! Is that Aiden, the same Aiden who broke down your big brother?” One of the teammates teased Brian, the starting quarterback, whose big brother and I had a previous physical confrontation with.
“Yes the same,” he responded, gritting his teeth trying to hold back the anger he felt seeing me on his field.
“Dude, that’s just wrong!” one of them continued to tease.
“Okay, enough!” Brian demanded. “Let’s just watch, I don’t want to hear anything else about my brother!”
“Okay cool, but don’t you think he wants to kick your ass too? Maybe make it a family tradition? I mean like a generational ass-kicking. A rite of passage if you will? You are not one of us until Aiden beats that ass!” Everyone besides Brian began wailing with laughter.
“I said enough!”
“No, you said nothing about your big bro dude, I’m talking about you now!”
