by Kipjo Ewers
“What happened to mom dad?” His voice went up several octaves filled with panic.
Trapped in a corner, Mr. Garrett muddled through the best way to tell his son the painful revelation revealed to him.
“Back in Jamaica …your mother was raped by a friend of the family when she was a teenager.”
Fred went white as his body became overrun with the shakes. Tears blinded his eyes as he shook his head in disbelief.
“She …she never told me.”
“It’s not an easy topic for a mother to tell her son,” Mr. Garrett lowered his head, “nor a bastard of a husband who can’t keep his prick in his pants.”
His father groaned as he battled to keep from falling into a sobbing fit so he could continue to tell his son what he wanted to say.
“The reason I didn’t sign the tax papers so your mom could go to college, was because I was afraid. Your mother was a beautiful, bright and intelligent woman. She could have had anyone back home, and even here in the states. I was this guy with barely a high school education who was lucky to get a work visa to the states. And so, when she decided to choose me and come …I was floored. But along the way …I made so many stupid mistakes …I was scared she would leave me, or find someone better.”
“So why hurt her dad? Why?”
“My father was a womanizer and a deadbeat,” Mr. Garrett shrugged. “He left my mother with my siblings and me to run the streets and chase tail. So, I worked hard to make sure that I could take care of my family, and be there the best I could from my children. I just never got a handle on being faithful.”
Mr. Garrett raised his head to look his son in his eyes.
“I’m proud that you never grew up to become like my father or me,” he got out. “And despite it all, I miss your mother every single damn day. I know you were telling the truth …but you have no idea how much it hurt to know …That I failed at making her happy.”
Fred slid closer to his father rubbing his back as the old man muzzled his mouth to hamper his cries so as not to embarrass his son.
“The day of the lunch …I lied because I wanted to hurt you,” Fred whispered into his father’s ear. “I asked mom why she stayed with you after everything, and she said for two reasons. One, mom fell in love with you the first time she saw you and grew to love your ambition and drive, to her there wasn’t anything you could not do. And two, she told me the story about when you got stuck out in Chicago on Christmas Eve.
She said you called her and told her that the airports were all shut down because of a blizzard that hit, and that you weren’t sure if you were going to make it home for Christmas. She said it was hard for her to keep the disappointment and sadness out of her voice, but she understood.
She said on Christmas morning, she woke up scared to the sound of the front door opening, but something told her not to be afraid and go downstairs. And there you were, standing in the middle of the foyer. Apparently, you hitched rides all day and night until you got home.
Mom said …she never been more in love with you then on that day because you did that all for her. She told me you were an asshole, but you were her asshole. And she's never stopped loving you.”
Fred’s revelation brought his father into a bawling fit. His tears flowed as he embraced his father soothing him to take away his pain.
“I miss her boy. I miss her.”
“I miss her too dad. I miss them both.”
˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜
His last visitor during his stay was his most uncomfortable.
For at least five minutes, Veronica sat silently in front of him with eyes of pure hatred toward him. It was so painful that Fred found himself staring at the table to avoid her gaze.
“Truce V,” he whispered loud enough for her to hear, “Truce.”
“Do you know what I want to do right now?” She whispered back in a mild steel toned voice.
She did not wait for him to ask.
“I want to punch you dead in your fucking nose, and break it in several fucking places, and then sit here and watch it gush from your nose down that stupid shirt of yours. That is what I want to do …and what I think of your stupid fucking truce.”
Fred looked up to see tears of hurt and betrayal form in her eyes.
“You stupid head …you promised …. You promised me. And I swear to god if you attempt to get out of that seat and hug me, I will knock you the fuck out, and then beat you to death with that chair.”
A mousy Fred sat quietly in his seat with his head down not looking to test her.
“I saw Ms. Santiago two days ago,” Veronica wiped her eyes. “She told me about the crazy mute and deaf bitch.”
Fred swallowed his spit as his stomach began to turn.
“She said she knew something wasn’t right about her from when she scared her the night she came up to ask you to keep it down,” Veronica continued. “She also said she was the one who cut you, ran out of the apartment like a mad woman, and responsible for carving the words ‘Trevor’ into your living room floor. But the police did not catch you fighting with a woman …they found you struggling with your doll. Look at me, Fred.”
He painfully lifted his eyes to meet his sister’s angered gaze.
“You finally want to tell me what the hell is going on?”
Fred averted his eyes back down to the table.
“You wouldn’t believe me V. I wouldn’t believe me if I listened to it.”
His sister sprung from her seat grabbing her chair. Fred winced thinking she was going to make good on her threat. Instead, she walked up to him slamming it down and took a seat in front of him.
She grabbed both his hands holding them, which forced molasses tears from his eyes. His lips trembled as he raised his head to see her looking dead at him.
“We got twenty minutes left on this visit,” she informed him. “Try me.”
CHAPTER 15
After spending the mandatory two months in a mental facility, Fred was released on probation.
Veronica picked him up and drove him home. The second he got inside of his house he made a beeline to the loveseat, collapsed into it, and went to sleep.
He would remain there for two days only getting up to use the bathroom.
On day three he forced himself to get off the couch and walk around inspecting the apartment. Apparently, Ms. Santiago had the bedroom door replaced and had the floor redone over. It baffled him how he didn’t come home to an eviction notice on his front door after all the mayhem he caused.
In the middle of the night, he gathered up all the remaining items that he purchased for the doll placing them in boxes.
The next afternoon, Veronica stood next to him as the Salvation Army came and picked the things up.
He could feel her closely examining him while attempting not to be obvious about it as the men thanked him for his donation and walked out forever with a piece of his life.
“I’m okay V.” Fred glanced at her with a smirk.
“Are you Fred?”
“No,” he shook his head. “I don’t know if I ever will be. But I have to try. She wouldn’t want me to be like this forever. I wouldn’t want her to be like this if it was reversed. I’d want her to let me go and live.”
“Oh, I sent out the invitations for you,” she remembered. “Are you sure you’re up for this?”
“Yeah,” he nodded. “I realized the most painful thing about losing Mary that day was I never got the chance to say goodbye. She was right in front of me, and in a second …she was taken. I said some words at the funeral, and I put her body in the ground, but I couldn’t let go. And because I couldn’t let go, I almost got myself killed. I just want to wish her a happy anniversary where ever she is, tell her how much I love her, and say goodbye.”
A misty-eyed Veronica rubbed her brother’s back giving him some comfort and support.
“I’m hungry,” he stepped away refusing to breakdown
anymore. “You want to go out to eat?”
“Sure,” she nodded.
She quietly watched as Fred grabbed his phone and wallet placing them in his pockets. He then lifted the last box of items he believed Mary would want his sister to have and waited for her as she grabbed her bag and followed him out the door to her car so they can have dinner together.
˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜
Two weeks later, Fred gazed up at the starry sky on the night of their anniversary. The rooftop garden patio recreational area of Ms. Santiago’s apartment was the same location they held their reception. He looked around at the thirty-person party of close friends and family that came to support him.
Fred was partially taken aback by how many came. News of his antics, arrest, and time in a mental facility was on page three of the local newspaper and spread like wild fire amongst his friends, family, and associates.
He gave a head nod to his father who returned it with a smirk. He was semi-surprised to see him show up. Even with their heart to heart, his father had not been a fan of parties and gatherings more so after his mother passed.
As he mingled amongst the attendees, he ran into Sara.
“Hey!” He beamed.
“How are you, Fred?” She extended her arms for an embrace.
“Here and sane again, so glad you came!” He gave her a hug. “Did Paul come too? Is he …?”
“I am leaving Paul.”
“Oh.” His eyes widened genuinely stunned.
“Yeah, we were both immature. We weren’t making each other better.” She admitted.
“How’s he taking it?”
“Not good,” she shook her head. “He wanted to go to counseling, but it’s beyond that. I need to be on my own for a while and do some real growing up. I don’t know if we were ever right for one another, but I know I’m not good for anyone right now.”
“Well don’t grow up too much,” he smirked. “And if you ever need help …”
“I won’t.” She reassured him. “But thank you.”
In the middle of his conversation, Fred spotted his sister making her way in his direction when someone slid in front of her path causing her almost to leap out her skin.
“Jesus!”
“Hey,” Hank half grinned.
Veronica’s face became a Picasso painting revealing her emotions, which were surprise, irritation, and a sprinkle of nervousness.
“What are you doing here?”
“Fred invited me,” Hank motioned.
Veronica slowly turned to her brother standing across the room giving her a devious smirk. She returned it with an “I’m going to murder you later” grin.
“Oh.” She turned back to engage with who she saw as her soon to be ex.
“I’m also here on some job interviews.”
Veronica’s face became a blank slate. She furrowed her brow and rattled her skull thinking her hearing was off.
“Say what?”
“I said I am here on some job interviews,” Hank repeated making sure to keep eye contact with her.
“Why?” She scoffed.
“Because you don’t want to come to New York,” he rolled his eyes. “So, I guess I have to come to Cali.”
“But, you hate California.”
“I do,” he nodded. “You need a car to drive everywhere, the people are vain and stuck up, and you can’t find a good hot dog to save your life. But you’re here, so I think I’ll be okay.”
“I didn’t ask you to …”
“No, you didn’t …” he cut her off. “But I’m crazy about you, and I know you’re mad about me. New York will always be there, and a job is a job. There’s only one of you.”
“You’re crazy about me?”
“Yeah, I am. Now if you don’t feel the same I can always…” He said with a sarcastic shrug.
“I do! I do!” she stopped him using a child-like voice while placing a hand on his chest.
He let out a small chuckle before leaning in to whisper in her ear.
“I don’t mind chasing you, but I also don’t like feeling like a disposable diaper.”
“Sorry,” she shamefully lowered her head.
“What was that?” Hank cupped an ear.
“I said I’m sorry! Maybe we can figure out a compromise,” she pouted while rolling her eyes. “I don’t want this to end either.”
Hank pulled her close and lifted her chin with a finger to gaze lovingly into her eyes.
“You’re a real pain in the ass …you know that?”
She agreed with a misty-eyed nod and stood on the tips of her toes to taste his lips. He pulled her closer to deepen the kiss as she wrapped her arms around his neck.
Fred wore a faint smile of happiness as he was able to witness the prevention of a mistake he knew his little sister would make later.
He excused himself from Sara and made his way to the DJ booth taking up the microphone. The DJ lowered the music while everyone in attendance made a semi-circle around Fred giving him their full attention.
He looked around meeting eyes with Barney and Cynthia, Bronson’s wife Angela who came on both her and his behalf while he was in Japan. His heart sped up a bit remembering how much he hated public speaking.
“Hello, thank you, everyone, for coming out.” Fred began. “As you all know, I suck at this, so I plan to make this brief.”
He took a minute to find his words.
“As a lot of you may know, I went crazy this past couple of months,” Fred said while rubbing his bald head for comfort. “I had relations with a sex doll, bought a new car, crashed it, got locked up and committed, basically, a regular day for anyone in California.”
The weak joke was good enough to ignite laughter around him putting him more at ease.
“I’m not ashamed at all about what happened,” he admitted. “Barney and my sister can tell you; I was a hardcore nerd and geek when being one wasn’t cool. While everyone wanted to look like Nelly or Eminem, I wanted to look like Morpheus or Blade. Barney, I don’t know how you walked down the street with me as I was the only kid that looked like he came out of a kung fu movie or a fighting video game.”
“I was never a bored man,” Barney yelled out. “I’d go back and relive it all over again if I could.”
“I had school crushes, dated and had relationships, through high school into college but they never lasted.” Fred continued. “It’s a painfully lonely existence when you feel no one will ever get you.”
Fred took a moment squeezing his eyes together to keep his tear ducts shut.
“And then, one night on campus during my junior year in the middle of Rush Week. While myself, Barney, Frank, and six other guys were trying to decide which party or bar we were going to first. This girl with wild curly hair wearing a tight long sleeve comic print top of the first edition of Shi, with black hakama pants, and platform sneakers walked up to us asking if we had a joint we wanted to sell to her. Barney told her we were also looking to score, which we were. Sorry, Dad.”
His father grunted a disapproving chuckle, while his best friend vigorously nodded in agreement.
“This was the same chick that cursed me out in the library two weeks ago over a Shakespeare novel. I just couldn’t stop looking at her, I wasn’t discreet at all, to the point that she looked at me and asked ‘What the hell are you looking at?’ To which my ‘Simple Jack’ ass said ‘You, I think you’re beautiful.’ You could tell by the look on her face that she couldn’t believe that I came at her with a fourth-grade pickup line. She walked away, I got ragged on, and I put the entire embarrassing event in my loss column and moved on.
After hitting up five bars and two campus parties, I was hanging outside by myself leaning up against a tree thinking about calling it a night when I saw her walking in my direction. I was so embarrassed about what I said earlier I put my head down hoping she wouldn’t see me. The next thing I know, this girl walks right up to me a
nd puts her head on my chest. She then wraps her arms around my neck and starts kissing me. Later Mary would say that my line was a complete turnoff, but when she saw me again wearing my Usher hat and Neo trench coat leaning up against that tree, I looked like a vampire anime character, and so she had to kiss me. And that lonely feeling that I felt of not being understood was gone.”
Fred paused for a minute as his voice cracked during his last sentence. It infected the crowd as he noticed some people quickly wiping their eyes.
