by Aletto, Anna
In the meantime, while she sat on the couch all night watching TV, I went into her room and slept on her bed. In the morning, Ariel would sometimes be ready for school, still wired from the night before. Other mornings she would crash, desperately craving sleep and skipping school.
And lastly, Ariel’s already small appetite vanished and she dropped fifteen pounds off her already slender frame. She skipped breakfast and usually skipped lunch too. At dinner she meagerly picked at her food, throwing most of it away. As she lost weight, her skin turned a pale, sickly pink.
A guidance counselor at East High called me into her office when Ariel missed three days in a row, totaling seven absent days for the month, and asked if Ariel was ill. I lied that she had been battling the flu and would be back the next day.
At home in the afternoon I found Ariel pacing around the living room texting on the silver-colored cell phone she had received on our birthday.
“You need to stop using.”
“What are you talking about?” she asked, looking up at me.
“This is out of control.”
Ariel stared at me, then looked at the floor.
“You told me the coke shit was a one-time thing. What’s going on?”
“I just needed it as a crutch for a while to get by. I’m stopping now.”
“You need to get back to school. You can’t miss any more days.”
“I know. I won’t.”
I looked at her.
She crossed her arms and fidgeted, not making much eye contact.
“Seriously, what problems are you having?”
“It’s nothing really. It’s all in my own head. But I’m good now. You don’t need to worry.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.” She uncrossed her arms, scratched her shoulder, and flipped her hair back. “I know you’re right. I just got sidetracked. I’m turning things back around now.”
“Good.” I nodded. “Just tell me if you need any help. Or if you just need to talk.”
“Yeah, sure.” Ariel nodded and glanced at her cell phone and then crossed her arms again. “I know you’re here for me.”
It’s the Sunday before Thanksgiving and Angela and I get ready for the morning service at Pinnacle Christian.
Fully-dressed, Angela sits on the edge of her bed in the guest room. She stares at the wall where the photo strip of us from Mississippi is pinned up on the wall.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“That photo strip is freaking me out.”
“Why?”
“I just got this weird feeling looking at it. I feel like something bad is going to happen to me.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. Something horrible. Like, I might get killed or something.”
“Are you being serious?”
“I can’t explain it. I just pictured something terrible happening.”
“What do you want to do?”
“Throw it away. I don’t want to see it.”
I unpin the photo strip from the wall. Instead of the garbage, I place it in my wallet.
We step into the Toyota outside and drive to church.
“Are you finding any way we can make more money?” Angela asks me.
“They’re getting me involved in this Faith Outreach thing and I have to meet with Britney’s dad this afternoon. I don’t see any way to make money with it, at least not at this point. So I have no fucking clue. I’ll probably try to get out of it.”
The service is standard. Reverend Boyd gives his sermon on the upcoming holiday season including Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year’s. He reminds the congregation not be sucked in by the American culture’s commercialization of these holidays. But instead, he urges the parishioners to remember the Christian basis behind each holiday. He says Christmas is about the birth of Jesus, Thanksgiving is about how the American settlers’ Christian faith helped save the pagan Indians, and New Year’s is a celebration of God’s choice to allow us – His earthly children – another year on this planet.
Once the service is finished Britney approaches Angela and me in the church lobby and says, “Hey, do you have the address to my parents’ house?”
“No,” I say. “What is it?”
Britney pulls a scrap of paper from her purse and scribbles down the address.
“You’re going to be there, right?” I ask.
“I have to run some errands actually,” Britney says. “I should be over a little later if you and my dad are still working then.”
“Would it be okay if Angela comes with me?”
“Oh, no, I don’t need to,” Angela says. “I can just go home.”
“She’s been staying in too much,” I say to Britney. “She needs to get out of the house.”
“Whatever.” Angela glares at me.
“No, it’d be fine,” Britney says.
“I wouldn’t really have anything to do though,” Angela point outs.
“They have a heated swimming pool and a hot tub,” Britney mentions.
“Well … that might be fun,” Angela admits.
“Definitely. Have a good time.” Britney smiles. “Hopefully I’ll see y’all a little later.” She walks away.
“What’s the problem?” I turn to Angela. “I thought you’d want to get out and do something.”
“Yeah, do something. Not go over to a preacher’s house. Plus, how awkward would it be if Eddie showed up?”
“So what?” I ask. “You’ll be soaking in the Jacuzzi, wearing a swimsuit and looking hot. Even if he shows up, it’ll make him sorry he ever dumped you.”
Angela considers it, then nods and says, “True. Then he’ll have to go rub one out and then pray for forgiveness for doing it.”
The drive to Reverend Boyd’s house is about twenty minutes to out on the edge of town. His house is off on its own, near a wooded area on about six acres of land. The lawn is neatly trimmed and the house is two-stories of light-colored brick with a circular driveway. Behind the house on one side of the backyard is a custom-made putting green and a sand trap for golf.
I park my Toyota behind Reverend Boyd’s black Hummer and Angela and I walk up to the front door.
Angela looks at the exterior of the house and says, “Obviously the Lord has blessed them with a shitload of cash.”
I ring the doorbell to the right of the door under an intercom.
“Hey, Bill?” Reverend Boyd’s voice asks from the intercom.
“Hey, reverend, it’s me,” I respond.
“I’m upstairs in my office right now,” he says. “The door’s unlocked. Just let yourself in and take a seat in the kitchen. I’ll be right down.”
Inside, the house has so many rooms it’s like a maze. Eventually Angela and I find the kitchen. We take seats on bar stools at a large kitchen countertop, catching our breath after wandering several minutes throughout the bottom floor of the house.
“I hate to leave this room because I don’t know if I’ll ever find my way back,” Angela says. “But I need to use the restroom. I’m going to see if I can find one.” She leaves the room and I wait another couple minutes.
Reverend Boyd walks in with his plastered-on grin. He’s a wearing a white T-shirt that’s two sizes too big for him and black athletic shorts. “Hey, great to see you!” he exclaims and shakes my hand. He opens the stainless steel refrigerator and takes a can of V8. “Do you want anything?” he asks.
“No, thanks. I’m fine.”
“You sure?” he asks. “Nothing to eat or drink?”
“Nah, I appreciate it. But I’m good for now.”
He cracks open the V8 and takes a sip. “Sorry Britney can’t be here. She’s out with my wife doing some stuff.”
“Yeah, she told me. I’m comfortable without her. I’m sure we’ll get some good work done with just you and me.”
“Exactly. That’s the right attitude.” He nods. “So as far as you and Britney – are the two of you dating?”
I pa
use a moment. Not wanting to tell him before she does, I say, “No. We’re just friends.”
“Really? I thought maybe you were closer.”
“No, no. We’re just really good friends. That’s why we’ve been spending a lot of time together.”
He smiles and says, “You can tell me if you’re together. Britney never talks about her personal life, so I’d never know. But I’d be fine with it.”
I’m stuck in the lie, not sure now if I should be truthful or not.
“I know you’re both young,” he continues. “And I know the way young people are and how the culture is these days. I wouldn’t be mad. I mean, it wouldn’t make me angry to know you were dating … Or to know you’re having sex.”
“Oh, no. We’re not,” I spit out, caught off-guard by his candor. “That’s not what I’m after.”
“Really?”
“I mean, she’s a really pretty girl, but that’s just not my thing. I’m not interested in that at all.”
“Huh,” he says and smiles.
Shaken, I stand up from my bar stool and now we stand beside each other. “Should we go to the living room or your office to get some work done?”
He stares at me a moment, then leans forward and kisses me on the lips. He pulls back and studies my reaction.
I’m so surprised that I’m expressionless, my adrenaline racing. I think I hear Angela walking back into the kitchen. I look at his lips and I stay still and allow him to kiss me again.
I hear Angela step into the room. “Oh my god!”
Reverend Boyd pulls away and stares at her, absolutely stunned. “I …”
“What the fuck is going on?” she shouts.
“I … I didn’t think anyone was here,” he stammers. “I …”
“What are you doing?”
“It was nothing,” he says. “Forget about it.”
“Are you kidding?” Angela asks, incredulous. “There’s no way I can forget that.”
“Please. Don’t talk about this. Don’t tell anyone.”
“Why shouldn’t we?” she asks.
“I don’t know. What do you want from me?”
Angela considers it a moment, then says, “Thirty-thousand dollars.”
“Each,” I interject.
Reverend Boyd turns to me, the color drained from his face. He sits down in a chair and shakes his head. “You can’t do this to me,” he pleads. “I’m a good man.”
Angela and I both stare at him, not saying anything.
“Sixty thousand?” he says, thinking aloud. “Where do you expect me to get that money from?”
“From your own savings, from the church, it doesn’t matter,” I say.
“Do you not think my wife will notice a withdrawal of that much? She’s involved in the church’s finances too. What do you want me to tell her?”
“Not our problem,” I tell him. “Tell her you donated it to charity. Our Lady of Perpetual Closet Cases.”
Reverend Boyd thinks about it and says, “I’ll go to the police.”
I nod and say, “You can call the police on us for extortion, but this will still go public and you’ll still be fucking done.”
He sighs and rubs his brow.
“And I am fucking your daughter. So I doubt she’d be thrilled to know your tongue was in my mouth.”
He looks at me and says, “When do you want it? The bank’s closed today.”
“First thing tomorrow morning,” I say. “It’ll give me a chance to talk to Britney tonight and break up with her. Meet me in the church parking lot at nine o’clock tomorrow morning. Don’t fuck around and that’ll be the last time you’ll ever see us.”
I walked to Terrell’s house. His grandmother greeted me at the door, unusually cognizant.
“Hi, Brandon.” She smiled. “Are you here for Terrell?”
“Yeah,” I said. “How are you?”
“I’m hanging in there.” Mentally assured and in good spirits, she walked over to the kitchen sink and began washing dishes by hand. “Terrell should be in his room, if you want to check.”
Terrell’s bedroom door was cracked and I knocked on it, opening it further. He sat in a chair facing his bed which had papers scattered all over. An ashtray sat on the floor by his chair and on his lip burned a joint. “Hey, come in,” he invited me. “What’s up?”
“This looks like a lot of work.”
“Yeah, I have all kinds of forms. I found a couple buildings that’d be perfect to convert into a club. Good locations, too. I have to let Curtis look them over and make a decision. Also, I got forms to start a new business and all kinds of other necessary shit. A lot of work, but I’m excited about it more than I’ve been about anything in a long time. Sex doesn’t get me this excited anymore.”
“Have you talked much to your grandmother today?”
“Just a little this morning. Is she alright?”
“Yeah, a lot better than normal actually. She knew who I was right off the bat. I was kind of shocked how clear-headed she was.”
“Really?” He dropped the form he was looking at back on the bed. “Once in a blue moon it’s like the fog clears and she’s her old self. It lasts only an hour or two at best, though.”
“I think maybe I should break up with Cassie.”
“Why?”
“As long as I’ve been with her, I think I’m just starting to realize that we don’t really get along.”
Terrell nodded.
“What do you think?”
“If you don’t get along, what else can you do? Life’s too short for that shit.”
“There’s still a physical attraction. And I think we both care about each other on some level. But I think maybe our personalities are just too different. How do you think I should handle it?”
“Be honest. When I dated your sister, you told me just to be honest with her. I did and it changed my whole perspective. The relationship was good while it lasted and smooth and easy when it ended. At least as easy as a breakup can be. Before that, I was always inclined to lie to girls. That caused all kinds of bullshit drama.”
“Yeah, you’re right. I think I’ll go see her now.”
“Go ahead and be truthful and I’m sure she’ll understand.” Terrell stood up and put his hand on my shoulder. “I’ll walk you out. I want to talk to my grandma while she’s lucid before that fog descends back on her.”
I drove to Cassie’s house.
“Do you really think we’re compatible?” I asked her.
“You’re such a fucking asshole,” she said. “I can’t believe you’re breaking up with me.”
“I’m not necessarily saying that,” I responded. “But do you really think we belong together in the long run?”
“Why are you doing this?” Cassie asked. “Just because Terrell broke up with Ariel, you have to break up with me now? What did I ever do wrong?”
“You did nothing wrong. This is about your happiness too. Are you really that happy with me? Sometimes I don’t think so.”
“I thought we loved each other.”
“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean we belong together.”
Cassie shook her head, looking at me as if I were crazy. “You don’t make any sense.”
“I just don’t feel like we’re really getting along anymore.”
“What is it you don’t like about me? Just tell me. I can change.”
“I don’t want to tell you how to act. I just know we seem to be arguing more and more. And it’s usually over stupid shit.”
“Couples fight. That’s perfectly normal.”
“Before you know it we’ll be graduating and we may go to different colleges. What then?”
“We could still call and see each other as much as possible.”
“Do you think that’s very practical?”
“Love conquers all,” she stated. “Right?”
I shrugged. “It’s a nice saying, I guess.”
A single tear streamed down her cheek but she quickly wip
ed it away. “So are we still together or not?”
“Yeah, but why don’t you take some time to think about this? I will too. If we decide our futures aren’t together, I don’t think it means our relationship is a failure or that it’s anything to feel bad about.”
“Then why would we have spent all this time together? What would’ve been the point?”
“I felt like the point was to spend the time together.”
“But it wouldn’t have led to anything more.”
“I really don’t know what more there is.”
I call Britney when I get home. I tell her I’d like to see her tonight. She detects some urgency in my voice and asks what’s wrong. I tell her I need to talk to her about something important but I don’t want to get into it until we’re together.
That night I drive to her apartment.
Britney kisses me as I walk through the door. “Have you eaten yet?” she asks. “I haven’t. I was thinking about maybe getting take-out from somewhere.”
“No, I haven’t. Can we sit down first?”
“You sure you don’t want to go ahead and eat something? We can get whatever you want. We might want to get something before it gets too late.”
I look at her.
Her usual energetic personality is even more on edge than usual.
“I’d rather we talk first.” I sit on her couch.
Distressed, she sits on the couch beside me.
“Is something wrong?” I ask.
“I have a bad feeling,” she says.
“About what?”
“I don’t know. But since you called earlier I’ve had this sinking feeling in my chest.”
I stare at her.
“I’m afraid of what you’re going to say,” she says. Her face concerned, she asks, “Did I do something?”
“No,” I say.
“Are you tired of me?”
“No.”
“I’ve tried to be a good girlfriend, but I know I’m not perfect. If there’s something about me you don’t like, you can tell me.”
“No, it’s nothing like that. I don’t want to change you. I think you’re great.”
