A Not So Typical Love

by Tristen Rowen

  Within a few seconds, I realized the houseguest was singing the Ramones’ Beat on the Brat. The Ramones just happened to be one of my most frequently played bands on my playlist. The houseguest startled, noticing me standing there and pulled out his earbuds, his cheeks a different color, maybe embarrassed that I caught him singing.

  "Oh hi," he said. "Good morning. Want some coffee?"

  Just by the brief morning greeting, I could tell he was a talker and he didn't seem to care that I wasn't. As he cracked a couple of eggs in the frying pan, I made my way through the kitchen to the keurig machine. I could make my own cup of coffee.

  "It's quiet here, huh?" he said. "Are you alone here all day everyday?"

  There was the housekeeper, Yesenia, who cleaned the house weekly, but she barely spoke English. There were also the landscapers and gardeners, but they didn't really count since I didn't interact with them at all. So, yeah, I’d say I was alone most of the time.

  As the houseguest asked more and more questions, I watched the coffee drip into my "Jordan" mug. Only I was allowed to use this mug because my name was printed along the top in big black letters, a poo emoji in the center, a birthday gift from Tim.

  "What time does Tim get home?" he asked. I shrugged, pouring a little cream in my coffee, proceeding to scoop spoonful after spoonful of sugar into it. "Have some coffee with your sugar?" I had a thing for sweets, but I didn't appreciate his comment.

  "What's your favorite Ramones' song?" I asked after a few awkward minutes, leaning against the counter, my hands wrapped around my mug.

  "The Ramones?"

  "Yeah, you were singing them,” I reminded him.

  "Oh yeah," he said. "Blitzkrieg Bop."

  "Typical," I said.

  "What do you mean by that?" he said, slightly annoyed, but I didn't answer. "So what's yours?"

  "Do You Remember Rock n' Roll Radio," I said. "I like Beat on the Brat, too. Tim used to say that song was written for me."

  "And you believed him?" he said. "That song was written twenty years before you were born. Maybe even more."

  "I know, but I didn't know that at the time." Tim was always saying stuff like that to me and I was so gullible and naïve, I believed everything he told me. In the middle of another question, I was already on my way out the back door and onto the porch with my coffee.

  The rain had stopped and the sun peeked through the clouds, but everything was still wet. That didn't stop me from sitting on a wet chair. It didn’t stop the houseguest, either, as he sat down at the table with a cup of coffee and plate of bacon and eggs, making himself at home.

  "Want one?" he asked, pointing to a piece of bacon on his plate. I just shook my head. "You're kind of skinny. You should eat more."

  I looked down at my bare chest and didn't think I was that skinny. I mean, you couldn't see my bones or anything. For a fleeting moment, I wondered how the houseguest would look in only his underwear. What a weird thought. This morning he was in a white t-shirt and khaki shorts.

  "I told Tim I'd take care of the pool,” he said. “I have nothing else to do. He says there's a place around here where you get pool supplies."

  I guess, I thought to myself.

  "You wanna come?" he asked.

  Staring back at him, I wondered why he asked me that.

  "I mean, what else are you going to do today? Do you have any plans?"

  He didn't need to know that. Besides, I never had plans. My only plans involved me reading and listening to music. Sometimes I went for walks. Actually, I went for a lot of walks in the summer.

  "Why don't you talk?" he asked. He was way too talkative and asked way too many questions. After a few more seconds, he let out an exaggerated sigh. "Oh boy, does my life suck right now. This is going to be a long summer." He finished off his breakfast while I sipped my coffee, neither one of us speaking again although I sensed he was dying to say something else.

  With a sudden desire to go for a walk, I got up. "Come on," I said with a weird urge to take the houseguest with me. Not waiting for him, I trod down the porch stairs, but he didn't budge. "Coming?" Either he came with me or he didn't. I wasn't going to wait around forever.

  "You're in your underwear," he said. “And you're not wearing any shoes."

  Shrugging, I proceeded to walk. He had a thing for stating the obvious. I was used to taking walks in my boxers and bare feet. By mid-June, the soles of my feet had hardened with callouses. As I walked away, the houseguest hurried up behind me, also in his bare feet. He was full of ouches as he walked beside me through the path in the woods, these woods that belonged to the Cameron family.

  "This is all your land?" he asked. I swore he knew the answer so I didn't respond. "It'd be nice if you answered me once in awhile."

  My walk turned into a jog, making my way to the small pond that was perpetually full of lily pads and frogs and occasional ducks. I had no problem wading through it.

  "Hey, I wouldn't go in that," the houseguest warned. What's the big deal? I had been going in this pond for years. Even though it was pretty grimy, I was used to it and it was quicker to get to the other side than walking around it. "There's no way I'm going in there," he said as I stopped halfway through the pond, scooping up a small frog in the palm of my hand. I didn't expect him to come in. "But I can see it doesn't bother you."

  "Did you ever believe that a kiss could turn a frog into a prince?" I asked, running a finger over the top of the frog's head.

  "I don't know," he said. "Why, were you looking for a prince?"

  "No," I said, staring at the frog. "I don't think so."

  "I was looking, but never found one," he said. My gaze shifted to him briefly, then back to my frog. He'd rather have a prince or king than a princess or queen.

  "I believed the story. I believed that a prince was turned into a frog and a kiss would turn him back...like the book and Tim said it was a true story and I was stupid enough to believe him."

  "Tim was a little shit," he said. "You know, it's really grossing me out seeing you waist deep in that murky water. There's probably lots of bugs and spiders and other gross insects...leeches..."

  "Someone's watched Standby Me one too many times," I said, proceeding to make my way out of the pond, still carrying the frog in my hand.

  "Do you like to go hiking?" he asked, walking around the pond to meet me on the other side. "I love hiking. Maybe we could go some time." Why would he ask me to go hiking with him? It wasn't like we were friends. I shrugged, walking away because I had never gone hiking before and wasn't sure I wanted to. "Yes? No? Maybe?"

  With my frog, I sat down on a log where I had sat many times over many, many summers. Tim always knew where to find me. There were times, though, when I didn't want to be found and I had a spot for that, too. The houseguest, whom I now decided to call Jamie, hesitated before sitting on the opposite end of the log. He lifted up his leg and rested his ankle on his knee, leaning over to get a look at the bottom of his foot.

  "I don't know how you do it," he said, brushing off some leaves and dirt. "Let me see your feet." That was a weird question. "Come on. Let me see them." It was way too weird, so I got up and walked away. My walk turned into a run through the woods and back to the house with Jamie not far behind. I stopped at the foot of the porch stairs.

  "You're a fast one," he said, catching his breath.

  "The store's in Groton. I'll go," I said, referring to the pool supply store. "Later."

  Holiday in Cambodia

  "Later" to Jamie meant 11 a.m. while "later" to me meant two or three o'clock in the afternoon. I was still in my boxers when Jamie came knocking on my door, the same boxers I had on yesterday and today. I just hadn't gotten around to changing. Jamie knocked again, and although I only grunted, he took that as permission to open my bedroom door.

  "You ready?" he asked as I looked up at him from my phone. "Uh...are you still in the same shorts? That's disgusting. You're sitting on your bed in your wet shorts that's been in that smelly
, disgusting pond. I hope you change your sheets before you go to bed."

  Maybe I will, maybe I won't.

  "So are we going or what?" he asked impatiently.

  Silently, I got off my bed and went to the laundry basket of clean clothes that I hadn't put away yet. Dumping it out, I managed to find a pair of clean cargo shorts.

  "Wait," he said as I went to put the shorts on over my boxers. "You need to take a shower and change your underwear."

  He wasn't the boss of me and I didn't care, anyway, so I resumed putting on the shorts. With him staring at me with a weird look on his face, I zipped and buttoned my shorts up and proceeded to slip on my black chucks without socks. What was his problem, anyway?

  "I don't know if I want you in my car all dirty and smelly," he said.

  Fine, whatever, I thought, and went to sit back down on my bed.

  "But I don't know where I'm going," he said. He had GPS, didn't he? "And I don't know what to buy." I wasn't sure what to buy, either, but the guy in the store knew. After a few minutes of Jamie standing in my room quietly staring at me, he gave in.

  "Fine," he said. "Let's go, but you need to take a shower later. It's disgusting."

  "You're not my father," I muttered, throwing on a black t-shirt that I wasn't sure was clean or not.

  Located in the neighboring town of Groton, Crombie's Pool and Spa was the only pool store in the area, one where all the employees seemed to know me for some reason or other.

  "Hey there Jordan," old Mr. Crombie said in the middle of unloading a box of pool chemicals. "Long time no see, huh? Where's Tim?" He knew very well he was at work since he wasn't with me.

  "Hi," Jamie said. "I'm a friend of Tim's, just helping him out. We plan on opening the pool today, so I was hoping you could tell us what we need." Mr. Crombie gathered up the usual supplies and put them in a box.

  "Do you expect your dad home this summer?" Mr. Crombie asked. How was I supposed to know? He stared me down, expecting me to say something, but I wasn't in the mood. "Just one day I'd like to hear your voice instead of a grunt. Say hi to Tim for me."

  Jamie dropped the supplies in the backseat of his black Jeep and interrupted me with another question as I was about to get in the passenger's seat.

  "Do you hear that sound?" he said. What sound? Listening carefully, I heard the sound Jamie was referring to. "Quick. It's the ice cream man."

  I had never seen a thirty year old man get so excited over the ice cream man. I hated to admit that I was excited, too. He ran in the direction of the all too familiar tune that epitomized the sounds of summer, a sound that could instantly render any adult a child again. Jamie ordered one of those red, white, and blue popsicles while I ordered a SpongeBob ice cream pop because I liked the gumball eyes. We happily sucked on them as we made our way back to his Jeep. So far I was having a pretty good day.

  The day grew warmer and hotter and more humid by the second. Jamie pulled his hair back in a stupid man bun as I helped him remove the pool cover. It was so hot, he even took off his shirt. He was taller and more fit than both me and Tim, that's for sure. His shoulders were broader than mine, which wasn't saying much since me and Tim were both slight. At least I was taller than Tim, who couldn't have been more than 5'5;" I was at least 5'9". Jamie's arms and chest were both toned as well as his calves. He looked like someone who enjoyed hiking and maybe biking, too. I couldn't understand why I enjoyed looking at him.

  Once the pool cover was off, I decided to lay flat on the deck and take advantage of the late June sun. As Jamie scooped up all the leaves in the water with a net, I relaxed with my earbuds in, my feet bouncing to the rhythm of Holiday in Cambodia. One second Jamie was scooping the leaves out, the next second he was standing at my feet, casting an annoying shadow over me. Go away, I thought to myself. He didn't go away, though. Instead, he kicked my foot, disturbing me in my own world. Annoyed, I pulled out one earbud to find out what this weirdo wanted.

  "Why don't you get the wireless speakers so we can all hear the music?" I wasn't too sure about that since I liked living in my own world with my music. I never liked sharing with others. "What are you even listening to?" he asked, snatching my phone away from me before I had a chance to stop him. He had no right to take my most prized possession, just like he had no right to try and touch my hair the other day.

  "Give it back," I said as he tapped my phone, scrolling through it. I had very few apps and contacts since I mostly used it to listen to music. Jamie unplugged the headphones so the music blared through my phone. He bobbed his head to the music as he perused my lengthy music library. "Give it back," I said again, sounding just like a whiny little kid. I was so angry, I could barely contain myself. My insides were in turmoil.

  "Interesting taste in music," he said. "Dead Kennedys are a classic. Who introduced you to this music?"

  "Give me my phone back," I said, but he nevertheless continued to hold it, pacing around the deck, keeping my phone from me. He's going to keep it. I know it. I hate him. My heart raced faster and faster on the verge of drowning and suffocating, all because of Mr. Stupid Man Bun.

  "Sex Pistols, Ramones, the Pixies, the Clash..." he said. "Interesting."

  What’s so interesting about it? It's my mother's music. How can he take my phone away from me? No, he can't do that. It's mine.

  Running to him, I retrieved my phone and pushed him so hard he fell backwards, falling into the pool and into the dirty water. "What the...?" he exclaimed. "Get back here, you little shit."

  Afraid of what he'd do to me if he caught me, I ran into the house. I figured now was a perfect time to take a shower so I took an extra-long one, which was totally not like me. I usually took five to ten minute showers, often forgetting to rinse the shampoo out of my hair. This afternoon, though, I took a thirty minute shower. When I was done, I hid in my room, my sanctuary, my earbuds back in my ears. Someday I hoped to get wireless headphones. Tim had a pair and he was always raving about them. Anyway, Jamie left me alone for the rest of the afternoon. I stayed in my room for hours until Tim pounded on my door, announcing dinner time.

  Jamie made dinner so we had something other than pasta or cereal. It was nothing special, barbecue chicken he cooked on the grill, salad, and corn on the cob. It sure beat pasta. Throughout dinner, Jamie gave me what I considered the evil eye and I gave it right back to him. He shouldn't have touched my phone.

  "Okay, what'd you do?" Tim asked me. I only shrugged. "You did something. What'd you do to him? He's only been here two days and I can tell you did something. What?"

  "He stole my phone," I muttered in an accusatory tone with a small pout.

  "I didn't steal your phone," Jamie said. "I was just teasing and I only wanted to see your playlist because you have really cool taste in music."

  "Jordan doesn't handle teasing well," Tim said to Jamie, then turned back to me. "So what'd you do to him?" I stared blankly back at him.

  "He pushed me in the pool," Jamie said.

  "You what?" Tim laughed.

  "It's not funny," Jamie said. "The water was cold and gross, probably full of all kinds of bacteria and..."

  "You shouldn't have taken his phone," Tim laughed, laughing so hard, tears came out of his eyes. There was nothing funny about any of this.

  "You're such an ass hole, you know that?" Jamie said, unable to stifle a laugh. I wasn't laughing, though. Jamie had no idea how his supposedly harmless teasing affected me.

  "Now you know not to tease my baby brother," Tim said. God, I hated it when he called me his "baby brother." I threw my half eaten corn on the cob at Tim and got up, running away, down the deck and into the woods.

  Cities in Dust

  When I was eight, Mom went through her Siouxsie Sioux phase with the heavily done black eyeliner together with the purple eyeshadow and bright red lipstick. In a tight black leather mini skirt, her dyed black hair sticking up everywhere in punk rock fashion, I remembered her singing Cities in Dust on the top of her lungs, making brownies
with me in the kitchen. We’d make brownies whenever I had a good day at school, which didn’t happen too often. Even though she was in her mid-forties, she dressed as if she were still in her twenties, wearing knee-high black boots and fishnet stockings that were torn along the back of her thigh.

  Tim hated the way she sung, but I always thought she was the greatest singer ever. This one time Tim brought a girl home and he knew better than to do that. Mom never liked people she didn’t know in the house, especially Tim’s girlfriends.

  “How many times have I told you she can't be here?" Mom scolded Tim and the girl.

  “Mom, this is Sabrina," he said. "My girlfriend, remember? We've been going out for months." Mom’s memory was never great.

  “You're a liar. She’s nothing but a whore," she said. Tears instantly came to the pretty girl's eyes. "Get her out of here."

  “Mom!" Tim exclaimed as the girl ran out of the house.

  “Now where were we, sweetie pie?" Mom said to me, returning to the brownies. I was just about to turn on the mixer, but was afraid to, afraid she’d flip out if I messed up.

  Tim returned shortly after, his girlfriend gone. "Thanks a lot, Mom. You're psycho, you know that? Dad's right. You belong locked up."

  "Wanna help make brownies, sweetheart?" she asked Tim as if she hadn't heard what he just said.

  “I'm eighteen. No, I don't want to make brownies," he said. "I want you to be normal. I want a normal mother for once."

  Normal. That's all Tim ever wanted, something neither of us ever really knew.

  A few days after that incident, Mom landed in the hospital for about the third time that year. I didn't like this memory as much as I liked the song and remembering Mom in the Siouxsie Sioux outfit and make-up. Art was away on an assignment so it was up to Tim to make sure both me and Mom were taken care of.