“What an idiot,” I said out loud. “What the hell was he thinking, Mom?”
I was almost in complete denial that this was happening; how could my brother have been so stupid to do something like this? He had held in everything that was happening to him, but, clearly, he was not okay.
My mother and I arrived at the district court in Lawrence where Jared was held in jail for a couple of nights. Those may have been the longest three nights I had ever experienced, and all I could think about was jail scenes in movies and whether my brother was getting beat up. What had happened to my carefree brother at the Cape, throwing the football on the beach and smiling with our whole family? My eyes would water and fill with tears, but I never cried; I held my emotions in for as long as I could.
My mother had hired a family lawyer, someone her brother knew, to represent Jared. I sat in the back of the courtroom with my mother. I remember looking around at all of the young criminals in the courtroom who had no cares in the world. I turned my hat backwards as the judge called the court case for “Jared Michaels.” My baby brother came out in handcuffs with the court officer, who sat him in front of the judge. My mother looked worried, fearful that this incident would ruin Jared’s life. Since he was a minor, he was put on probation until the age of eighteen, and he had to do community service until he was fifteen. The judge had made my brother seem like a thug. I sighed loudly and cursed under my breath. The judge heard me and kicked me out of the courtroom. I had so much anger during that moment. My brother wasn’t a bad kid; he just had no guidance, and I blamed myself for that.
After the awful nightmare of being in court, I called Rory immediately to get some weed. He had a contact who sold pounds of weed and would sell small bags for forty bucks. This would be the first bag of weed that I bought on my own. Rory and I went over to his house, where he had bongs and pounds of weed on the table; I had never seen that much before. He bagged up an ounce of weed and we smoked out of his gravity bong. After the first hit I took, I thought I was going to die; I coughed for ten minutes. We must have stayed at his house for hours, smoking. Looking in the mirror, I saw a different person. I was broken, my dreams were crushed, my family had been ripped apart, and my brother was completely lost. The only thing that would take my pain away was getting high.
Once we left, the drive home was a nightmare; I was so high that I couldn’t even remember driving. WOOP! WOOP!
“What the hell is that, Rory?” The blue lights flashed behind me as my heart started to shake out of my body, and my mouth became even drier than it was already. The cops are behind us, fuck! I had never been pulled over before and I had weed on me. What the hell would my mother do if I got arrested a couple days after Jared? it would kill her. I tucked the bag of weed into my sock as I strapped my seatbelt on.
“License and registration,” the cop said, as I became paranoid because my eyes were completely bloodshot.
“Here you go, officer,” I said confidently. I can’t be caught, I reminded myself. The policeman sat in his car behind me for about ten minutes, and I felt like he was waiting to search the car. He came back, handed me my license, and asked if I was related to Jared Michaels. My blood pressure rose in my face as I said, “Yes; he is my brother.” In my head, something clicked because my fear disappeared.
He then said, “Okay, well, I am going to keep an eye on you; get out of here.” I drove away relieved but furious, because he had immediately judged me. How can someone who doesn’t even know you judge you so quickly? I went to bed that night angry. My day had felt so long, and it felt too long before I was finally able to shut my bloodshot eyes.
The next day, I woke up early and drove over to Rory’s; we rolled a joint and got high. Tyler came over to match us on another joint. We talked about how much we hated the cops. Rory said that his mother was gone for the weekend again, so we got our cell phones out and started to call some girls to persuade them to come party at his house tonight. We smoked weed all day, ate fast food, and then went for bowl cruises. I must have been smoking half a pack of cigarettes a day. I remember that it had started with just smoking one, here and there, but now I was addicted to them. We knew a local buddy at the convenience store who would sell us packs anytime we wanted.
After rounding up some high school girls, we got the alcohol and started the party. I drank beers and took shots until I had no remorse. My hands would wander as I grabbed girls’ butts with no care, as we sparked up joints and watched the girls stripping to music.
This was the life I wanted to live, I thought.
Tyler, Rory and I were becoming best friends. This very night, when I was so high and drunk, was when Michelle from across the street grabbed my hand and brought me upstairs. Even though I was drunk, I was still nervous—I was a virgin, and I knew that she had had sex before.
We started to make out and I could taste the beer on her breath; I’m sure she also tasted it on mine. We were both breathing so heavily while rubbing each other’s body. She slowly started moving her hand down my pants as I became harder and harder. I rubbed her as I started to take her shirt off, and began to suck on her nipples. She pulled my penis out and started to stroke it as she moaned from me stroking her. We were both naked minutes later on Rory’s parents’ bed. I stopped her. “Wait, I need a condom.”
I ran over to Rory’s room, banging on the door, and when he opened it up, I could see he had a girl in there, too. He gave me a condom and I ran back into the room. Michelle pushed me onto the bed and put the condom on me, then jumped onto me and started to ride me. She thrust back and forth as she moaned and grabbed onto my chest and scratched me aggressively. It may have lasted only five minutes, but it seemed like an hour. I finished and was no longer a virgin; this was not my dream girl, but with the amount of alcohol and weed I had smoked, she looked the best that night.
•••
Morning arrived as I woke up in Rory’s parents’ bed. I had no clue where I was for a second, and then I realized I was naked. I went downstairs and saw Tyler and Rory watching TV while smoking a joint. They smirked as I came down with my hair a mess, looking hung over. “What a great night,” I said, laughing. This was by far the best summer I had ever had, and I started to forget about Cape Cod.
Later, I went home to get some rest and saw my mother. She looked sad to see her two sons drifting apart. I didn’t come home much anymore. I would either be working at Butcher Boy or smoking and drinking at Rory’s house. I found out that Jared was starting his probation at the community center, where my basketball team played. The whole high school and all of my basketball buddies would see Jared picking up trash outside by the courts. It disgusted me that they would see my brother and judge him.
My first summer league basketball game was the next day. I dropped Jared off for his community service and opened my door because my game was at the same time. As I saw Jared walking in, I paused, and shut my door. Fuck this, I thought. I turned my car back on and called Rory. “I’m skipping summer league; let’s get high.” My cell phone began to ring immediately as I drove off. “Stop calling me,” I said under my breath. My team had seen me driving away in my red van. I shut off my phone; I didn’t feel like explaining why I was leaving. Who would understand?
We got stoned for hours until we all passed out. When I woke up, I realized that I had forgotten to pick up my brother. I drove to the house and ran in to see him by himself playing video games on the couch.
“How the hell did you get home?”
“I walked,” he replied.
“No way,” I said. “It must have been two miles, sorry.”
With a “whatever,” he continued to play video games. I realized right there how crappy of an older brother I had become. He and I used to do everything together; he was my best friend, not just my brother. My mother was working a double-shift again, and I walked upstairs feeling depressed after realizing how shitty a person I had become. I just wanted to go to bed and never wake up. Or maybe I would wake up and
this would all be a dream: my parents would be together, Jared wouldn’t be on probation, and I would be a perfect older brother like I had always imagined.
In the following couple of days, my brother, father, and I had dinner together. We went over to Dad’s apartment down the street and he didn’t mention one word about Jared’s probation. It was kind of a relief not to talk about it, and I think he understood. He told stories of how he would get in trouble all the time and tried to shed some laughter on the situation. We all laughed about life, and he actually made things seem not so bad. His phone would continue to ring, and he ignored it while we were eating dinner. He finally opened up later that night after he drank a couple of beers.
“This woman is crazy; if any weird woman approaches you, stay away from her. She knows about your mother and is after her. She thinks we are still together and wants her out of the picture, so protect your mother.”
“Do terrible things just all happen at once?” I asked. “This is a nightmare, why would you even get involved with this woman?” My dad got angry as he blew my question off, just saying that he didn’t know.
“Thanks for dinner,” I replied sarcastically and left. He called my name, but let me go; we were supposed to sleep at his house that night, so Jared stayed, but I drove to Rory’s house instead.
“Let’s get high,” I said.
“We need to get some first,” Rory replied. We drove over to his dealer’s house and hung out for a little bit.
Buying weed was almost a regular event now, and the dealer and I grew pretty close; he was a cool kid, and only a year older than us. We smoked all night, and even had a couple of beers at his house. Rory and I left after getting a nice buzz, and went for a cruise. It was the first time I had ever driven drunk; it’s not that bad, I thought.
The next day, my mother had the whole day off and could relax. I felt like the three of us, she, Jared and I, hadn’t been together in a long, long time. We watched TV and laughed together; it was nice to see her happy again, or at least for the moment. She had her two sons together, which always brought a smile to her face. Even though Jared was on probation, she still treated him like the little boy he was. She was a single mother with a career now, but she always made sure we had a warm, cooked meal and a roof over our heads. She is one of the strongest people I can imagine, I thought.
Later that evening, a car pulled up in front of our house. A man wearing a cable company hat and uniform approached the door and banged on it a couple of times. My mother went over to the door and saw a man who looked shady; he had awful yellow teeth, his eyes were bugged out, and his uniform was untucked and sloppy.
“Maria Michaels? I am here to fix a cable issue.” My mother backed away from the door and locked it quickly, as he tried to open it and come inside. Jared and I ran over to the door as he ran back to his car and drove off.
“That man wasn’t with the cable company, Mom. He was trying to hurt you; it must have been the woman Dad’s been with.”
My mom was frightened as she locked the doors and windows. She then called the cable company to confirm this and they said that there had been had no appointment for her at all. I wanted this Gloria dead. I would die for my mother, I thought, and kill whoever tried to hurt her. It made me angry to the point where I wanted to chase down this creep. My mother told me to relax; she didn’t want me doing anything. We called the cops and made them at least aware of the situation, but they didn’t do much to help.
My mother had to work that night, and I don’t know how she kept her composure together or where she got her strength. I knew that she had had a hard home life from all that she’d told me and Jared, but was not sure what other things had happened in her past. Having my own car helped me let go of things, and I would sometimes drive aimlessly for hours, listening to music and thinking about life. I was always a heavy thinker, but ever since I started smoking pot, I noticed that my depression had grown. It was a hard feeling to shake.
Most of all of my days were sad, and I didn’t have too many days where I was okay anymore. The only thing alcohol and weed did for me was postpone my sadness, but once I sobered up, I was back to reality: I was not happy. I was miserable with my life. I started to wonder if I had ever been happy, or at least tried to remember happy times in my past.
•••
Summer had been flying past and was almost over. I had pretty much quit summer league basketball. I would make up excuses every time I had a game: I was on vacation, I was sick, or I just wouldn’t pick up the phone.
One humid summer night, Rory, Tyler, two girls in the grade above us and I took a cruise. I had bought a large beanbag in the back of my van so that the girls could sit on it. We drove around town aimlessly, smoking joints and cigarettes, passing bottles of vodka, and having a blast. I’m not sure how life started to change for me so quickly, but I was finally having fun. I guess substituting anything real with drugs and alcohol made me forget about my parents’ divorce. So that summer, my group had expanded to include Rita and Kristen. They were the two year-older wild girls who were down for anything. They would actually call us to pick them up so that we all could drink and drive around. Summer nights were coming home with a nice buzz to the smell of fresh air, and raiding the kitchen cabinets and fridge to warm up a Hot Pocket® or to eat an entire bag of chips. This was my new Cape Cod. I didn’t want this summer to end, but junior year was fast approaching and I hadn’t played basketball once in the past couple of months. To be honest, I didn’t care what happened with sports anymore.
“Logan! Wake up,” my mother yelled. UGH!
“Ma, just let me stay home today.”
“It’s the first day of school; there’s no way you’re staying home.” I was so tired from my marijuana habits, especially since I would smoke almost every day, and if I hadn’t smoked it was only because I couldn’t find anyone with weed. My mother drove off to work after she woke me; she was scheduled for the morning shift. Jared walked to middle school with a friend and I jumped into my van to pick up Rory and Tyler. Surprisingly, they were held back a couple years in a row and would be seniors this year. As I turned the corner on my first day back, I saw the jocks sitting together in a group with their Abercrombie sweaters and turtlenecks—it made me sick. They all had on perfect smiles, and they were laughing and joking about their perfect fucking summers.
I’m not sure why I was so mad; if I wanted, I could have gone over to them and sat down to talk about basketball tryouts in a couple weeks. However, as I started to approach them, I came to complete halt halfway there. Trying to smile and pretend that things in my life were perfect was just not happening today.
“Let’s go, guys,” I said. Tyler, Rory, and I ran down the hall as the bell rang. While I sped down the hallway, I saw Tim from basketball. We locked eyes for a minute as I passed him. He knew that I had been hanging with the “wrong crowd” and looked away as I ran out the door and into the parking lot. We turned the corner to run to my van and jumped in. I turned on the ignition and pulled out just as a car swerved in front of me, bringing us to a complete stop. A man wearing a police uniform got out.
“Out of the car, boys,” he said, “Where are you heading? Isn’t class is about to start?”
“We were just running back to my house; I forgot some notes for class,” Rory said.
“Bullshit,” the officer replied. “Get into class.”
He made me park, took down our names, and watched us walk to class. I felt like an idiot as I walked into class, late, with everyone staring at me. Especially since I hadn’t seen anyone all summer. I slouched down in my chair and threw my hoodie over my head like a thug who had no care for school. Class ended after an hour and then I felt someone tap on my shoulder.
“What’s up with you?” Tim asked.
“Nothing; I’m fine,” I said as I brushed away from him. Tim asked if I was trying out for the team as I walked away to find Tyler and Rory. I turned and said, “Yeah man, I’ll be there.”
“Logan! Let’s get out of here.” I saw Tyler, Rory, and Jake, a new kid that started to hang out with us more often. Jake was another product of a broken home. We all ran to the exit door, looking for the school cop. He was nowhere to be found, so we ran out to my van again and hopped in.
“Shit, there he is, coming from the other side of the school,” Rory said as I turned on the ignition and burnt out of the parking lot. Rory’s head flew back as I peeled out of the lot. “GO! GO! GO!” I floored it; we sped up the side streets and as we turned onto street after street, I could feel the cop getting closer. He never showed up, though, and we approached my house.
My mother was working until three and Jared was at school. Now we had the house to ourselves, so we lit up a joint on the porch and laughed while smoking it.
“I can’t believe we just ran from the cops,” we laughed.
No one noticed four kids smoking weed on a porch, so it was perfect. I had skipped my first day of junior year and didn’t have a care in the world; I would just say I was sick, and my mother would never know. At three o’clock I ditched my job and we would just leave and go to Rory’s house and chill outside in his Adirondack chairs.
As we approached the back of his yard, laughing and passing around a joint, we heard a siren come up behind us. Rory threw the joint under an old broken-down car in his yard.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Tyler yelled. Officer Pinelli had tracked down where we all lived and had shown up at Rory’s house. Pinelli accused us of skipping school, but unfortunately for him, we all played it cool and said we had been there and were just getting home. It was perfect timing, and he had no proof, let alone no evidence of marijuana, even though our eyes were completely bloodshot.
The Crossroads of Logan Michaels Page 8
