As I look around my room, a knot grows in my stomach. I need out of here. I toss my bag out the window and then climb out, walking away from my house for the last time. Once I’m back in my truck, I pull out my phone and call the one person who would never tell anyone where I am.
“Brock?”
“Hey Granddad. I need your help.” My dad has parents I’ve never met; this is my mom’s dad. He and my grandma cut my mom off after she went back to my dad when I was ten. They were hoping it would guilt her into leaving my dad for good, but it backfired and she never spoke to them again. My granddad reached out to me when I was sixteen and made sure I knew that if I ever needed him, he would be there for me. No one knows I’ve been talking to and seeing him, not even Ripley. Tears leak from my eyes as I relive the punch over and over again.
“Son, you are not your father. It was an accident. Stay with us tonight, get some rest, and tomorrow we’ll deal with everything else, okay?” They live only twenty minutes away.
“Yeah, okay. Thanks Granddad.” I head toward their home and try to quiet my thoughts, but they’re loud and unforgiving. My phone beeps, which it’s been doing since I left the party. I don’t want to pick it up, but morbid curiosity has me doing it anyway.
Cale: WTF!!!!! Where are you? Rip’s crying for you. We know it was an accident. We all do. Get here now, she needs you. She’s starting to freak out.
An image of Ripley’s eyes rolling back hits me and I roll down my window, throwing my phone out of it. She’s awake, which is good. She’ll be okay.
A short time later, I pull in front of my grandparents’ house. I grab my bag and as I walk up the sidewalk, my granddad meets me at the door. He pulls me right into a hug, squeezing me tight. “It’s going to be okay, I promise.” I almost believe him…almost.
“Are you sure you want to do this?”
I sit in the passenger seat of my grandpa’s car, staring through the windshield at the recruitment center for the Marine Corps. Over the past few days, I’ve talked to my grandparents and have decided to enlist in the Marines. I know I’m running away from everything, but right now I feel like I have no other option. I’ve got all this shit balled up inside me and I don’t ever want it to come out like it did again.
My grandparents are worried. I haven’t been sleeping because every time I fall asleep, I relive the whole thing. I’ve woken up crying, gasping for breath, and I’m depressed. I’m falling apart. They’ve tried to convince me to call my mom, but I can’t, at least not yet. I called Ripley twice, blocking my grandparents’ number so she couldn’t call back. Both times, she answered, her voice sounding tearful, and I never said anything, just hung up.
I look down at the fading bruises on my knuckles and nausea swirls in my belly. They’re bruised because I hit her, because I lost my cool because of some asshole and his words. A roughened hand covers mine. “You are not him. Boy, do you hear me? You’re not your father. You don’t have to do this. We can go home right now.”
“I have to do this. I can’t explain it, but I do.” With a sigh, my granddad shuts the car off and we climb out. My grandma decided not to come because she’s not on board with my decision, though she says she’ll support me regardless.
Once we’re inside, I begin talking to Sergeant Richards, and it’s weird because once he starts asking me questions, a sense of calmness and purpose washes over me. I confidently tell him what he wants to hear, that I’m joining because I want to make a difference, that I want to defend our country. Do I mention to him that I’m running away from my problems? No.
Earlier this morning, I withdrew from school. It was painful because Ripley and I were supposed to go together, but now she can go and meet someone who won’t hurt her the way I did. She’ll never have to fear that they’ll turn into their abusive, drunken father.
Right here in the office, they have me take a practice version of the Armed Services Vocational Aptitude Battery, or ASVAB. I sit down and begin working on it, and in about thirty minutes, I’m done. The recruiter grades it and looks at me. “I’m going to try to get you in to take the real test down at the government building this week. Does it matter which day it is?”
“No sir, it doesn’t matter.” He disappears and then returns a few minutes later; I can go down there this afternoon. It will start at two o’clock and will take me around three hours to complete. Apparently I scored extremely high in all areas so they’re sending me pretty much right over.
The recruiter tells me to come back after I get my physical on Thursday—I didn’t expect things to move this quickly. He gave me a list of MOS codes so I can start looking at different jobs I can pick, then we say goodbye and my granddad drops me off downtown. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours. I’ll just be waiting for you in the car.”
I watch his car drive away until it disappears in the distance, then I look up at the large brick building and head inside with a sigh.
Two weeks have gone by and I’m finally heading to boot camp in San Diego. That will be twelve weeks, and afterward I’ll be in MCT, Marine Combat Training. I’m glad to have all that going so I won’t have to think about who I’ll be missing. Right now I’m in a hotel room that the military paid for while I wait to head out in the morning. My flight is at six AM.
My grandparents wanted to stay and make sure I got off okay, but I told them I’d be fine because I didn’t want them driving the three hours to Chicago. I had taken the bus to Chicago earlier in the day I made them promise not to call my mom and tell her until tomorrow afternoon when I’m already in California, though it’s not like she would come anyway.
I grab the phone on the desk in my room and dial Ripley’s number. It rings and rings, and I’m about to hang up when I hear her voice.
“H-Hello.” It sounds like I woke her up. “Hello?” I hear her take a deep breath. “B-Brock is that you? Please answer me. Where are you? Are you okay? Brock?” I hang up when I hear her voice break at the end.
I slam the phone down and throw myself back on my bed, staring up at the ceiling as that night comes back to me. After I dropped Rip at home so she could get ready for the party, I took off toward my place. I noticed the lawn was overgrown and knew I’d need to mow it; my dad certainly wasn’t going to do it. When I stepped inside, I found my mom standing at the dining room table folding towels.
“Hey Mom. How’s it going?”
She reached up and stroked my cheek. “It’s good honey. I’m so proud of you, did you know that?”
I hugged her tight. “Yeah I know. Where is he?” Her body stiffened and rage filled me.
“Your dad’s outside on the back porch.”
I left her to finish folding, went to my room, and changed my clothes. On my bed, I lay back and closed my eyes, intending to do so just for a second. Sometime later, something hitting the wall woke me with a start. I grabbed my phone and saw that I was supposed to pick up Rip in ten minutes. I climbed out of bed and opened my door to see that my dad had my mom pinned against the wall. Her face was red. “I-I’m s-sorry. I didn’t realize what t-time it was. Dinner won’t t-take me very long.”
He let my mom go and she scurried away, and I couldn’t help but yell, “Why don’t you leave her the fuck alone?”
As always, he struck fast. The back of his hand connected with my cheek two times in rapid succession, and then he popped me in the mouth. Before I could react, he had me against the wall with a hand wrapped around my throat.
“You shut the fuck up.” His words were slurred. “How I take care of my wife is none of your concern. Maybe you could learn something, or maybe I could train sweet little Ripley myself.”
Without thinking, I shoved him until he hit the opposite wall and slid to the floor. My mom was standing in the mouth of the hallway with tears running down her face, and I moved toward her, asking, “Is this really how you want to live your life? Leave him, I’ll help you.”
She gave me a sad smile. “Go, honey. Go to your girl. I love you.” After sh
e kissed my cheek, I tore out of the house and made my way toward Ripley’s. I took the long way, needing to clear my head, though I knew I was already late and my girl was probably freaking out. When I pulled up in front of the house, I didn’t get out right away. I was filled with so much anger, I was scared to be around Ripley for fear of hurting her.
“Hey son.” I looked up and Rip’s dad, Jerry, was standing by my door. He didn’t react when he saw my face, but it wasn’t the first time he’d seen the aftermath of my dad’s anger. “Your face okay?”
“Yes sir. Sorry I’m late, I’m sure Rip’s freaking out.” I looked up and saw my girl standing on the porch, watching us.
“No need to be sorry. We were just worried about you. You know that no matter what we’re here for you, and when you’re away at school, we’ll make sure your mom is looked after.” Rip’s dad was the coolest, and he always knew how to calm me down. After that, I hopped out of my truck and went to my girl.
Back in the present, I’m finally exhausted enough to fall asleep. One of my last thoughts before my eyes close is that at this time tomorrow, I’ll be in California.
4
RIPLEY
One Month Later
I stare at myself in the mirror. The bruising from my orbital fracture repair has just begun to fade. Over the past month, I’ve dealt with constant headaches and double vision. Wearing an eye patch helps, but then it prompts more stares from people. It doesn’t matter though, because nothing matters anymore. Brock’s gone, and none of us have heard from him. A few weeks ago, I swear he called, but he wouldn’t speak. I don’t even care if he was going to tell me we were over—I just wanted to hear his voice so I would know he was okay.
Some of our friends have rallied behind me as I’ve tried to find Brock. Others stopped returning calls and un-friended me on social media. Again, it doesn’t matter. I don’t care about any of that shit; I just want Brock back. I want to know he’s okay, and I want him to understand no one blames him for what happened.
Jonah’s picking me up in ten minutes to take me to one of our local malls, to hand out missing person flyers. In a surprising turn of events, Jonah’s become a good friend. Cale and Kat don’t agree with the friendship, but I think right now they’re too worried I’m going to break, so they’ve let it slide.
I’m keeping it together by a tiny thread, but at least I’m keeping it together. I’ve hit malls, grocery stores, and numerous other stores looking for him, but I’ve come up with nothing. I’ve yet to ask his parents if they know where he is, and to be honest, I’ve been avoiding it because Brock’s dad scares me. Jonah’s offered to go with me, so maybe this weekend I’ll finally go. Maybe they’ll have answers, maybe they won’t, but I have to at least ask.
I quickly throw on track shorts and a fitted t-shirt then slip on a pair of flip-flops. My hair is pulled back in a low ponytail, and the only makeup I’m wearing is cover-up for the bruising. In the living room, I find my mom and dad sitting together on the sofa.
They know it was an accident, but I think they’re still in shock it happened at all. I know they’re worried about Brock, but they’re also worried about me. I hate to admit it, but I’ve eavesdropped on them a lot lately. I overheard my dad tell my mom he showed up at Brock’s parents’ house looking for him, but Brock’s dad slammed the door in his face. Just like everyone else they’re waiting for me to break.
“Where are you going today?” my mom asks.
“Davenport.” I hear a car door slam and a moment later, the doorbell rings.
My parents are still on the fence about Jonah, especially since they know he instigated the fight, but he’s been working hard at proving how sorry he is and trying to make up for everything.
I grab the stack of flyers off the table in the foyer and yell goodbye to my parents. Jonah is standing at the door in basketball shorts, a t-shirt, and tennis shoes, and a hat sits on top of his blond head. For as long as I’ve known him, I’ve never seen him dressed so causally, and I’ve never seen him look unkempt. Even playing football, the guy always looked like he was ready for a photo shoot. Now he looks like he crawled right out of bed.
“Hey Rip, you ready?” He takes the flyers from me and I follow him to his royal blue Camaro. It’s a totally douchey car, but that’s okay because up until recently, I thought he was a total douche.
I’m lost in thought as we make our way toward the mall feeling like a part of my soul is missing. I know I’m young and there are other fish in the sea; I know two eighteen-year-olds couldn’t possibly be as serious about each other as Brock and I were—are—but he’s my soul mate. If there were ever two people destined to be together, it’d be Brock and me. My vision gets cloudy and my nose begins to burn, but I fight it back. I have to be strong right now. Falling apart won’t help find Brock.
My head begins to throb so I grab a pain pill out of my bag and quickly swallow it down with my bottle of water.
“Is your head hurting?”
I turn my head and look at Jonah. His expression looks troubled, as it usually does whenever I have headaches or have to wear my eye patch because my vision is giving me trouble. “Just a little bit.”
He grabs my hand and gives it a squeeze. “I’m so sorry.” His voice is hoarse.
“Jonah stop. It’s okay.” We lapse back into silence and I close my eyes.
We pull into the parking lot of the mall and I take a deep breath before climbing out of his car with the flyers in my hands. As we make our way inside I close my eyes and say a little prayer that someone has seen him. Inside, we stand by the food court, and I start handing them out to people who will take them.
“Hi. Have you seen this guy at all?” I repeat this over and over. Most people just shake their heads and some simply say no, and my frustration grows with each answer or non-answer. Across the way, I spot Jonah holding up a flyer and talking to an older couple. Around him, girls have gathered and are clearly checking him out, but he does nothing except hand them a flyer and move on.
He must feel me watching because he looks at me and gives me a smile. That night of the party, he didn’t leave the hospital until I was discharged. At first I wouldn’t talk to him, but every day he showed up at my parents’ house until I finally caved—mostly because I wanted him to say whatever he had to say and then leave me alone.
What I didn’t expect was that his parents paid off my ER bill and said they would pay for anything that had to do with my injury. They tried to pay for the surgery, but my parents have good insurance and told them it wasn’t necessary. Again, every day he was over, bringing me snacks, books to read, movies—whatever he thought might make me feel better. I figured at first he was just trying to pay me off, but when it was clear that Brock was gone, he stepped in to help find him.
We stay at the mall for a couple hours and once all the flyers are handed out, we go across the parking lot to Olive Garden to eat before heading home. I only pick at my food; between the pain pills, headache, and stress, my appetite is nil.
“You need to eat,” Jonah says from across the table.
I stab at my salad and take a bite, forcing it down my throat. It feels like sandpaper going down. I set my fork down and grab my water, taking a sip. “Can you still come with me to Brock’s parents’ house this weekend?”
“Yep. Do you think they know where he is?” He looks at my plate then back up at me and sighs. Our waitress passes our table and he asks her to get us a to-go box.
“I don’t know. What if they do? What if they won’t tell me?” My heart starts to race thinking about the possibility that they know but don’t plan on telling me, and I shake my head. “Actually, can we not talk about this right now? Are you getting excited about leaving for school?”
He’s heading to play football at the University of Wisconsin in Madison and will be studying journalism. My plan is still to go to Western in a month, even though I really don’t want to. Brock and I were supposed to do it together and it just feels wrong to
be going without him, but I know he wouldn’t want me to miss out on the experience.
“I’m excited to start training with my team. I’ve missed playing ball. What about you?”
“I don’t know, I guess I’m excited. This just wasn’t how this was supposed to go. Ugh, sorry I’m a downer.” I grab my bag and pull out my pain pills. Shaking one out, I pop it into my mouth and swallow it down.
When we pull into my driveway a while later, I grab my to-go container. “Thanks again for coming with me today. I’ll call you tomorrow about Saturday.”
“Okay sounds good. If you get bored later and want to talk or whatever, just call me.” I get out of the car and give him a wave before I head into the house. My mom’s in the kitchen and my dad’s mowing the grass in the back yard.
“Hey honey. Any luck?” she asks as she moves to stand right in front of me, resting her hands on my shoulders.
“No. I’m going to talk to his parents this weekend.” I don’t like the look on my mom’s face.
“Do you really think that’s a good idea Ripley? I know you have questions and you think they may have the answers, but I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to go. I’m sure your dad would do it for you.”
“Jonah’s going to come with me.”
“Okay, well I hope you get the answers you want.” She brushes back the hair that’s escaped my ponytail. “Baby girl, I hate saying this, but have you thought about the fact that he just might be gone for good?” My body stiffens. “I don’t want to upset you honey, but maybe he’s just gone and not coming back.” Her voice cracks at the end. She’s always loved Brock, has always been supportive of our relationship and how serious it’s been from the beginning.
Then There Was You: A Single Parent Collection Page 38