by Otis Hanby
“Can I help you?” she asks with a smile.
I assume she’s one of Erica’s new friends. I can’t find the ability to speak. I stand there like a wooden post. Rodney breaks the silence for me saying, “Is Erica here?”
“Yeah, she’s right over there,” the girl says, opening the door wider and turning her head towards Erica inside the house.
I look over the girl’s shoulder and see Erica right away. Sitting on either side of her are a couple of guys who I’ve also never seen before. They look like punkers or skaters. Erica’s eyes meet mine, and her look is one of surprise and disapproval. I have crashed her good time, and I’m the last person she was hoping to see. I wait for her to say something, but she doesn’t. She just sits and looks at me. I can feel her body language telling me to leave. I try to make my mouth say something to plead my case. I try to think of something to say that will convince her that it’s a good thing that I’m here. Something that will make her happy to see me again. My mouth opens, but no sound comes out. I stand frozen for a brief second. I close my mouth and narrow my eyes at her, turn my back to her and walk away, never wanting to see or think of her again.
“Where’re you going?” I hear Rodney call from behind me.
“Let’s just go!” I say, not playing around.
“Jeez. Make up your damned mind.”
I get into the back seat of the Firebird. A part of me wants to look at the house and see if Erica came to the door, but I refuse the urge. This is one battle I’m going to win. Fuck her.
Rodney and Chad get into the car, and Rodney drives off, spinning his wheels as a sort of final dig.
“I don’t know the story with you two, but when you walked off like that, I could tell it affected her,” Chuck says to me with a smile.
As shitty as I feel, I manage a smile to myself. I don’t hurt any less, but at least I was able to confuse her. I know it’ll be on her mind for a while. I wonder who those guys were. Was one of them her boyfriend? That bothers me. But it’s a question that will have to remain unanswered.
Chapter Nineteen
I’m finally sitting in the front seat of Rodney’s car. It’s not that Chuck is out of the picture or anything; Rodney’s is driving me back to my cousin’s house, and Chuck had other things going on. I decided to go back early, the weekend after Christmas. I still have another week before I have to go back to school, but I want to get as far away from Garland as possible. I feel more and more nervous here. It’s like Garland has become a different place altogether in my short time away from it. I’m not exactly relishing the country lifestyle, but too many bad things seem to seek me out in the city. The country is lonely as hell, but nobody bothers me.
We drive out of Rockwall, Texas, heading east on I-30. The city is giving way to open fields and scattered houses. It’s high noon, but no warmth is coming from the sun on this clear day. I’m cold on the inside, too. I look over at Rodney and wish I he’d share his thoughts with me. I think about asking him, but I know it would be futile. Rodney just doesn’t talk about emotions. Sometimes I wish I were more like him. I think it might be easier to go through life the way he does. But I’m too sensitive, and my nature won’t allow it.
Rodney’s the one who suggested driving me back, but he doesn’t say why he wanted to. I figure he just wants to get out of town for a few hours.
I had called my cousin before we left and told him I was coming back this afternoon. He said he and his parents were going to go to Whitney to visit his dad’s side of the family and they probably wouldn’t be home until late that night, but not to worry because he would leave his window unlocked for me.
Looking out of the car window, I watch the gray landscape pass by in a blur. I think of my parents and how they didn’t protest when I told them that I would be heading back early. They just seemed happy that Rodney was taking me instead of them having to drive. At least I found a way to make them happy—saving them the time and energy of getting rid of me.
I think of Lisa on the ride back. I did end up going to see her during the week I was in Garland. Rodney and I went over to her house in Mesquite late one night. Her parents let us drink a couple of glasses of champagne. They were celebrating something that I thought had to do with Christmas but then I remembered they’re Jewish. Then Rodney took off for a while, and I stayed behind to visit with Lisa. We hung out in her room, lying on the bed and talking. I realized how pretty she really is for what seemed like the first time. She was always cute to me, but lying next to her and gazing into her intense green eyes let me see something more.
“Your eyes are beautiful,” I told her.
“Thank you. Your eyes are really pretty too. They’re hazel, but then there are gold flecks near the center.”
“Thanks. I feel very close to you right now.”
“Yeah, I feel it too.”
“I know we both have gone through a break up recently, but I can’t help but think what it would have been like if we had dated each other. I have always liked you.”
“I’ve always liked you too, Corey.”
I reached out and placed my hand on the curve right above her hip. She didn’t try moving my hand, so I left it there. I couldn’t help but notice her large breasts straining against her faded black t-shirt. She looked very sexy at that moment.
“I’ve always wondered what it would be like to kiss you. I’ve always wanted to kiss you,” I said.
“Then why don’t you kiss me?” she asked, looking serious.
I leaned my head in and kissed her. Her lips were soft and full. She pushed her body into mine, and I felt her soft breasts pressing against me. I moved my hand from her hip and wrapped my arm around her, and pulled her into me. She placed her leg in between mine so that we could get closer. My hand massaged the small of her back as we kissed, and I feel her strong back muscles as they flexed in the palm of my hand. As we separated, she nestled her face into my shoulder. We lay like that for a long time. I smelled her hair and enjoyed the comfort of her body against mine. After several minutes, she pulled away from me, but she held my hand as she looked into my eyes.
“We ought to make a deal,” she said with a smile.
“What kind of a deal?”
“Well if neither one of us is seeing someone when we graduate high school, we should get married.”
“Are you serious?”
“Why not? You seem like someone I could be happy with.”
“But just not right now,” I said, sadly.
It was more a statement than a question, and I regretted it immediately. Lisa looked hurt.
“I’m sorry,” I said, meaning it.
“It’s no big deal. We both just got out of a relationship, and it wouldn’t be fair to jump into another one. Besides you live so far away now. That’s why I hope you stay in touch.”
“I will,” I said, wanting to kiss her again. But something in her body language told me that I’d ruined whatever moment we were sharing.
“I always wanted to get married on the beach. I’d wear a sundress with flowers in my hair. And you could wear just blue jeans. Kind of a hippy wedding,” Lisa said, looking happy again.
“That sounds cool. Then it’s a deal?”
“Deal.” She snuggled up to me again.
Then Erica flooded my memory. Lisa was right about one thing. We’d both just gone through a break-up, and it wouldn’t be fair to start something while other people were so fresh in our minds. Thinking of Erica still, I held Lisa close to me and felt as if I could absorb her warmth into the empty coldness inside my chest. She gave me comfort that I really needed. I hope she felt comforted too. However much I liked her, though, I knew deep down that we would never be together. Our timing always seemed off when one was pursuing the other, but it was never for the lack of interest. Just being there together, and saying those crazy things to each other, was good enough for the moment. I wished we could have laid there all night holding each other.
Rodney had come back, but I
didn’t even realize he’d walked into Lisa’s room until I heard his voice.
“Am I interrupting something?”
“No. We’re just hanging out. Where did you go?” Lisa asked, sitting up. I wrap my arms around her one last time, then let go.
“It’s really late so we should be going. Unless you’re going to stay the night with Lisa,” Rodney said.
“My parents would never let that happen,” Lisa said. “I need to go to bed anyway.”
I felt disappointed. Lisa got off the bed and pulled me to my feet by the hands. She walked us to the door, holding my hand the whole way. She let go of me and gave Rodney a goodbye hug. Then she turned to me and gave me a long hug. I really didn’t want to let her go.
“I’ll see you guys later. Give me a call sometime, Corey. Don’t lose touch, okay?” Lisa said, smiling and leaning against the open door.
“See you later,” I said, but I knew that I wouldn’t. Just the thought of that makes my loneliness that much harder to bear. Even when I lived in Garland, she lived too far away, and I wouldn’t be able to see her regularly. It was at that moment that I knew I was resigned to go back to the country to be alone.
Lisa closed the door.
“So, did you get any?” Rodney asked.
“No. We were just hanging out,” I said, a little annoyed at how his crassness cheapened the time that I’d shared with Lisa.
“Too bad,” Rodney said, lighting a cigarette.
We got into his car.
***
I snap out of my daydream when Rodney asks me, “Is this the exit?”
“Yeah it’s this one,” I say, as he forces the car off the interstate and onto the exit that we almost passed.
We’re on Farm Road 275 south. I’m almost back to Jack’s house.
Rodney pulls into my cousin’s driveway. I get out and test the door to the kitchen from inside the garage. It’s locked.
“How are you going to get in?” Rodney asks.
“My cousin left his window unlocked. I just wanted to check the door before I had to climb through a window.”
I walk to the side of the house to Jack’s bedroom window. It’s unlocked just like he said it would be. I open it and clamber through. I shut the window behind me and notice how quiet the house is. A surge of loneliness goes through me. As I walk through the hall, it feels as if the walls are narrower than they should be. It’s so cold inside the house. A wood-burning stove usually heats it, but with everyone gone, there’s been no one to tend to the fire. I open the kitchen door for Rodney. Rodney comes in blowing on his hands.
“It’s just as cold in here as it is outside,” he says.
“Yeah, I’ll have to wait for my cousin to get home before I can start a fire.”
The stove wasn’t prepped with wood, and I didn’t want to risk making anyone mad if I screwed something up.
“Well let’s go sit on the steps in front of the house. At least have the sun warm us up.”
“Okay.”
Rodney and I walk to the front of the house and light cigarettes. Rodney takes a long drag, blows it out, and says “There ain’t shit out here. What the hell do you do out here?”
“A lot of thinking, working and going for walks. Nothing big.”
“No shit. I would go crazy out here. Or end up shooting myself. Fuck this.”
“It’s not that bad. I’m kind of getting used to it,” I say not believing it. It was a weak attempt to sound optimistic.
Rodney and I finish our cigarettes and sit in silence for a little while. A cow bawls in the neighboring pasture, and Rodney shakes his head, laughing to himself.
“You went and turned into a shit-kicker, didn’t you?” he asks.
“Naw. I’m still who I am.”
“How can you be? There’s nowhere to skate!”
“I’m just me.”
“Well, I should get going. I don’t want to get back too late. Take care of yourself, Corey,” Rodney says, getting up and dusting the back of his pants off.
I walk him to his car and thank him for driving me back. Rodney gets in and starts the engine. He waves at me as he backs out of the driveway. When he reaches the highway, he spins his tires as he always does. The sky is already turning dusky. I watch his taillights until they disappear in the distance. When I can no longer see Rodney’s car, the familiar darkness fills my soul suddenly and without warning. I shudder. Loneliness fills me, stronger than ever before, and I force myself to walk back inside. As I come into the kitchen, I sit at the nearest chair located at the end of the bar. The chair seems like it might collapse with the weight I feel sinking in my chest. I sit with my head bowed, and my shoulders slumped and stare at the cold linoleum floor. I feel a tear slide down my cheek. I taste the salt of my tear as it hits my lips. Tears begin flowing more freely. I feel my nose start to run, but I don’t bother to wipe it. I just don’t care anymore. I think of the kid in the suicide video I watched in school before I was sent away to my cousin’s. I wondered if he felt the dark loneliness I feel at this very moment. Looking around the house, it’s like the emptiness is closing in on me. I feel myself becoming part of the void that fills the house. I begin to cry harder than I have ever cried before. As I cry, I hear myself saying the words “no” and “why” like I’m hearing it from someone else’s ears. Soon I’m sobbing so hard that the simple words become too hard to speak. I feel the room grow darker around me. Everything is blurry. With what feels like a nudge, I look up to the cabinet where Jack put his dad’s .357 magnum. I feel a will that’s not my own pulling me out of my chair. I stand and open the cabinet door with a shaky hand. On my tiptoes, I feel around for the cold heavy steal that I know lies inside. When my fingers find the gun, I pull it out. I sit back down onto the wooden chair—or fall into it, might be more accurate. My tears have not subsided, and my breathing comes heavily labored. My body trembles. I grip the gun and check the chamber for bullets. All eight bullets are in the gun ready to be fired. I cock the hammer back like I remembered doing while shooting with my cousin, and turn the gun around in my hands. Shaking, I put the barrel of the gun into my mouth. It chatters against my teeth. I can taste oily residue and spent gunpowder on the gun. I close my eyes and every face I’ve ever known flashes through my mind. The faces seem distant and uncaring.
There’s no plea for me to stop as I hold the business end of the gun in my mouth. The faces of my sister, my brothers, my parents, Chad, Tyler, Greg, Rodney—everyone—race through my mind. The last face to appear is Erica’s. She lingers in my mind longer than the others. Her eyes are looking at me with that same detachment and coldness she’s shown me in real life. She closes her eyes, and her face fades. Nothing but darkness remains. The hurt in my heart seems to spread through every pore in my body. My tears stop flowing, and my nose stops running. My hand steadies. Everything is calm. I adjust my mouth on the barrel of the gun and position my sweaty hands for a better grip. I pull the trigger slowly with my thumbs. It’s tough to pull. The trigger gives a little, and the pull stiffens. I feel my thumbs push farther back. For a split second, I ask myself what I’m doing. Then BOOM! I hear the beginning of the gunshot.
Chapter Twenty
I wish I could tell you that everything’s fine now. But I can’t. My cousin and his family eventually come home. I think you know what they find. My body is on the floor on its side. There’s a big hole in the back of my head. Blood and brain matter are sprayed on the cabinets behind me. And the smell, oh man, the smell is terrible. My aunt is the first one inside. I can sense that she feels something is out of place, even before she switches on the lights. It could be the smell, or something else, but I know that when something as tragic as what I did happens, it changes the atmosphere of a place. And believe me, I should know. You can see so much more when you aren’t confined to the limitations of a body. She lets out a terrible scream.
My uncle is right behind her. He pushes past her to see what’s happened. He never liked me anyway, but I can tell
what I did has seriously pissed him off. I can’t blame him for being mad. Maybe I could have picked a better location to blow my brains out, had I thought about it more carefully. I was, however, in my darkest hour, and my reasoning was more than just a little bit off. When my uncle sees me, the cigar that’s hanging from his lip falls to the floor. His forehead creases with deep, angry wrinkles and the words “goddamned little shit” issue from his mouth. I don’t think it was God that damned me; God had nothing to do with my decision. But damned I am.
I hear my cousin’s quickening footsteps race through the garage. He comes at a mad pace to his family’s aid, though he has no idea what he’s running into. His dad spins around and catches him at the waist. I see Jack’s eyes frozen on the gruesome scene. I can’t read the emotion on my cousin’s face. I guess I see shock, anger, disbelief, horror… but where is the sadness? My cousin isn’t very emotional. He’s kind of like Rodney in that department, though he has a much better head on his shoulders. As Jack’s dad tries to push him back out the door, Jack stands fast, not moving, and stares at the grizzly scene.
“Damn it, Jack, get the fuck out of the house so I can get your mother out of here! Move boy! Your mom doesn’t need to be seeing this. Go; goddamn it!”
My cousin snaps back to reality. He grabs his mom by the arm, trying to lead her out the door. He and his dad gently coax her out of the house. The look on her face is awful. Her eyes are wide open, and her face is deathly pale. She keeps mumbling the same thing over and over, “What are we going to tell his parents? What are we going to say?”
“It’s okay, hon. It’s going to be okay,” my uncle reassures her.
“Come on, Mom. We just need to get out of here. Come on, Mom,” Jack says in a soothing voice.
I watch them exit the house, and I can see that nothing was solved by me taking my life. I still have the empty, desperate feeling I had before I killed myself. And now I am confined to this place. I try following my cousin, but I can’t go further than the house. I feel as if I am to remain here for a while like I’m held here by something. All I can do is stare at my broken body on the floor. I would cry if I the ability to produce tears.
