The Before Now and After Then

by Pen Name Publishing

  “Wonderful,” she said again, staring straight out at the road.

  Chapter Ten

  I thought Henry and Maude would be just like Cher, but they weren’t. Henry was short and very muscular, like he worked out every day. He wore jeans and a flannel shirt even though it was 80 degrees outside. Maude was blonde and looked much older than us. She ran down her driveway wearing jean shorts and a white tank top with heels. If all three of them had been on a page where you had to pick out the one who didn’t fit, it would definitely be Cher.

  I got in the backseat so Henry could sit in front, but Cher moved over to let him drive. As soon as Maude got in next to me, she froze.

  “Uh, Henry,” she gasped, not taking her eyes off of me.

  “Guys, this is my new best friend, Danny,” Cher said with a quick introduction.

  Henry turned around and looked at me. “Oh, shit!” he said, startled. “Are you Sam Goldstein’s brother? You guys look just the same!”

  I had heard this all of my life.

  The funny thing about being an identical twin is that you aren’t compared to each other. It’s more like one of you is compared to the other twin, usually the one who is more successful, better looking, more charming, more outgoing, or whatever makes that person better. I had always been compared to Sam.

  There had only been one person who chose me as better over Sam. The summer after first grade, we had this neighbor named Dave. He was probably fourteen at the time and he would babysit us when our moms hung out. He would get Sam interested in a video game and then he would take me down in the basement and tell me we were going to play doctor, which basically meant we were going to take each other’s clothes off and look at each other. I never thought it was bad or strange and in fact, I liked it. I remember being intrigued by his wiry, curly, blonde pubic hair and leg hair since at 7 or 8, I didn’t have any.

  This went on all summer until one day he suggested I check his temperature with my mouth. We had never played this game before. After a few minutes, the door opened and Sam came running downstairs, catching us. Seeing the look of confusion on Sam’s face made me realize that what we were doing was wrong. He quickly walked back upstairs and Dave told me to put on my clothes. He never baby sat for us again, even when Mom would ask him to.

  The next year, Dave’s family moved. Sam and I never talked about that day, not even when I came out to him. Sometimes I wondered what happened to Dave and whether or not he was gay. Sometimes I wondered why he had chosen me. What had he seen in me that he hadn’t seen in Sam? What was the difference between us that only he could decipher?

  Henry cleared his throat, bringing me back into the car. “You are Sam’s brother, right?”

  I nodded my head.

  Maude grabbed my hand. “I’m so sorry babe. Henry plays lacrosse and we knew your brother from when they played each other.”

  Silence filled the car.

  “Well that’s a real fucking buzz kill,” Cher said. Everyone turned and looked at me.

  I laughed, “Definitely.”

  Everything went back to normal. I was thankful no one asked any more questions about Sam. Cher turned up the music as she and Maude screamed over one another, laughing and telling inside jokes that meant nothing to me. At one point, Cher looked over at me and smiled and I knew then that I was part of all of it. I was finally part of something.

  We arrived at a small music joint called Soda, the kind of dive that was popping up all over the place to serve the ever popular crowd of internet bands thinking they made it with a few hundred YouTube views. Henry had wanted to check out some local screamo band he thought was the next big thing. It was obvious Cher disagreed and we hung out together, back near the juice bar while Maude and Henry jumped up and down like uncaged animals with the rest of the crowd.

  “It’s not like I don’t know,” she said.

  I didn’t understand.

  She nodded her head toward the dance floor, “With them. It’s not like I don’t know. I mean, they try to hide it, but I know they like each other.” Tears filled her eyes, but only for a second.

  I looked out at Maude and Henry on the dance floor and just for a second, I saw what she was talking about. There was a moment when it felt like they were in unison above the rest, just the two of them, dancing apart, but interconnected almost by an invisible thread.

  “Then why do you date him?”

  Cher straightened up. “Because he’s someone, I guess,” she said. “Being with him, with anybody, is better than being alone, you know?”

  But I didn’t know. I didn’t understand why you would stay with someone when they wanted to be with someone else. “I don’t get it. You’re so cool, so much cooler than either one of them.”

  Cher smiled. “I am?”

  “Yeah.”

  She looked back out at them again, dancing together, never turning around once to find us.

  I looked down at my wrist and realized I had forgotten my watch; Sam’s watch. Instantly, I became very nervous. I didn’t remember taking it off and I didn’t remember where I had put it.

  “What’s wrong?” Cher asked.

  “What time is it?” I pulled my phone out of my pocket. It was 10:03. I exhaled and put the phone back in my pocket.

  “Are you OK?”

  “Yeah, I’m good,” I lied, worried about the whereabouts of Sam’s watch.

  Cher looked back out at the dance floor. “Let’s get the hell out of here. I’m way cooler than this.”

  She walked onto the dance floor and told them we were leaving. She kissed Henry goodbye and hugged Maude. I thought it must be hard to keep up such a charade when she seemed like she really liked both of them.

  “I hate them,” she said, walking past me and grabbing my hand. “Let’s go.”

  We walked outside and back to her car, never looking back, never looking to see if Henry and Maude were looking for us.

  Once inside she lit a cigarette and we sat in silence. Finally, after a few minutes, Cher erupted, “I don’t know why I do it. I don’t really have any friends, so I guess I just keep them around so I’m not lonely.” She took a drag off of her cigarette. “We stopped having sex weeks ago. I’ve even stopped counting it’s been so long.” She put the car in drive, pulled out of the parking lot and out onto the street.

  The city around us buzzed with excitement, as it was one of the last weekends of the summer. Cher drove around for a while before heading in the direction of my house. “We do this thing every Saturday night called the Fondue Crew where we go and get cheese and chocolate fondue at The Melting Pot, but I’m not going to go tomorrow,” she said, nodding her head once in affirmation. It seemed like she had just made some life altering decision.

  I didn’t have the heart to tell her that The Melting Pot was our birthday restaurant and the next day was the six-month anniversary of Sam’s death. There was no way I was going to be part of any Fondue Crew, whether she decided to go or not.

  “So are you done with him?” I asked.

  She took a drag off of her cigarette. “I don’t know. We’ll see.” She was silent for a long time. “I think tomorrow I’ll go to work with my mom. Sometimes she likes me to come and help out. I haven’t been very nice to her lately.”

  Whatever was going on in Cher’s head was deep. She was making life decisions about Henry, Maude, fondue and her mother. I hoped it wasn’t because of what I had said to her. Just as we pulled into my driveway, she turned to me and put her hand on mine. “Thank you. For what you said earlier. I know I’m not as pretty as Maude, but it’s nice someone thinks I’m good enough.”

  And in that small moment, the moonlight snuck in through the windshield, radiating her purple hair and emerald eyes. “I think you’re really pretty.”

  She cocked her head then leaned over and kissed my cheek. “You’re sweet. Talk to you tomorrow,” she said, as I got out of the car and walked up to my front door.

  Mom and Alex were asleep on opposite ends of
the couch. The Breakfast Club rolled on the TV screen behind them. I stood there and watched the silent screen for a moment and thought about the different characters and how together, they made everything seem so perfect for one Saturday afternoon in detention. They had made the worst possible scenario seem almost magical. I laughed to myself, thinking about all of the imperfection in the last year which had led to one small perfect thing; Rusty, who in reality, wasn’t even a thing yet. And then I wondered if that drunk, soccer mom was just some crazy imperfection, flying out of nowhere to forever change the direction of so many lives. Coming towards Sam and Griffin’s life. Towards mine. Maybe, just maybe, the perfection of the world was found in the imperfection. Without the bitter, there was no sweet. Without Maude, Cher would not be so beautiful. Without Sam’s death, there would never be a moment where I had met Rusty. It was a painful way to look at the world but it made some sense in an abstract kind of way.

  Rusty.

  I flipped the TV off and walked upstairs to my room, turned on my fan and took off my clothes, getting into bed in nothing but my boxers. Turning to set my alarm clock, I saw Sam’s watch sitting on top a piece of Black Jack gum. Quickly setting the alarm clock, I smiled and closed my eyes.

  Chapter Eleven

  The house was silent when I woke up. I walked downstairs and found bagels and orange juice waiting for me on the kitchen counter with a note. “Danny, Alex and I went shopping. Your dad is picking you up at eleven. He has a surprise for you! See you when you get home. Love, Mom”.

  I picked through the bagels, until I found a cinnamon sugar one and applied a generous layer of butter. I poured myself a glass of juice and carried my breakfast to the patio where I could watch the lake fill with boats. A large red boat briefly stopped right in front of our house, pulling a huge float with four kids on it who started screaming as soon as the boat took off. I smiled and sat down in one of the chairs, breathing in the fresh morning air blowing in from the lake.

  All of my life, I had always felt like I was watching other people’s lives instead of being part of my own. In a way, when Sam died, part of me died as well, because I had always lived through him. I didn’t have the first idea how to find out who I was. The music I listened to was the music other people listened to. The movies I liked were the movies other people chose. I read books other people suggested and wore clothes Sam wore. I thought if I did what Sam did, then I would fit in, but it had never worked.

  And now I was all alone.

  I brushed the bagel crumbs from my lap and walked inside, putting the glass in the dishwasher.

  I got ready quickly, making sure to put on Sam’s watch and then waited on the front porch for Dad. I checked my phone and noticed I had a text from Cher from the night before.

  “Thanks for being so awesome,” she’d said.

  Unsure of what to say, I sent back a smiley face.

  A few minutes later, Dad pulled up in his Porsche convertible. I expected Jenny to be with him, but she wasn’t. “Hey Dad,” I said as I climbed in, noticing he was wearing a new red Cubs hat over his curly dark hair.

  He patted my leg, “How’re you doing today, buddy?” Dad always called me buddy. He had always called Sam mister. I’m not sure when the nicknames started but for as long as I could remember, those were the names we were called.

  “I’m good.”

  “Are you sure?” Dad asked. “It’s the twenty-fourth.”

  And then it registered. It was the six-month anniversary of Sam’s death. I wasn’t sure why six months was more important than three months or two months, but somehow it seemed different. An entire half of a year without Sam.

  “Well, I wanted to talk to you about a few things and then I have a surprise for you,” Dad said.

  “OK,” I replied, unsure of what he was going to tell me.

  He took a deep breath. “I’m not sure how to tell you this or if you’ll even care, but you’re mom and I have decided to sell the house,” he stopped for a minute to let it register with me. “I’ve found a condo downtown I’ll be moving into at the beginning of the month. We’ve already found a buyer for the house so it will all be done pretty quickly.”

  I wasn’t sure why something like a house should bring such emotions, but immediately I started to cry. I had this strange feeling that if Sam wanted to come home, how would he find us? And even more, where would I find him in these new places I was living? I realized they were childish, ridiculous thoughts, but they were what I was thinking.

  “OK,” I said.

  “Is that all? Ok?” Dad asked.

  “I mean, it’s not like I have a choice in it, right?”

  That’s the thing about parents. They ask what you think, but they don’t really care, or at least they don’t care enough to let it affect the outcome.

  “Well, if you have an opinion about it, or think we shouldn’t do it then I guess Mom and I would want to know that,” he said.

  I sat for a moment in silence. The reality was that I did care, but I also didn’t want to go back to the house. It felt like it was some place stuck in time on that day in March. I couldn’t go back and I couldn’t go forward. Every time I walked up the stairs I thought about standing there when the doorbell rang and the cop told us Sam was dead. When I stood on the front porch, I thought about Sam and Griffin driving off for the last time, Sam giving me the thumbs up and Griffin’s nose to the wind.

  “I think it’s a good choice.”

  Dad seemed relieved. “Good. Now we can go on an adventure.”

  I smiled and looked at him. When we were kids, Dad would pick us up after school and take us on what he called adventures. These usually meant going to a playground where he had hid candy bars like an Easter egg hunt or to the library where he had hidden notes for a wild scavenger hunt of clues leading to prize.

  “An adventure?” I asked, laughing at the memories.

  “Sure, why not?”

  I had no idea what he was up to, but thought it was a great day for an adventure. Dad slid a CD into the player. Punk Rock Girl by The Dead Milkmen, one of his favorites, started playing through the speakers. He turned it up as loud as it would go and started thumping at his steering wheel.

  Most kids are embarrassed by their parents, but it’s difficult having parents who are cooler than you. My parents were always cooler than me.

  “Do you ever play anymore?” I asked him, referring to the nights he kept us up, playing his guitar in the basement.

  “Not since Sam died. But I was thinking about starting again. I’d love to have a band, like when we were in high school.” I could see him drift off as the song changed over to The Violent Femmes’ Add it Up.

  Most kids grew up on classic rock or The Beatles and Fleetwood Mac. I grew up on punk rock, heavy metal and grunge. It was not uncommon for pancakes to be served with Nirvana blaring in the background and air guitar dancing around the kitchen on Saturday mornings.

  Dad turned down the radio and looked over at me, smiling. He turned into a car lot. “I think it’s time you got a new car.”

  Since the accident, there had been no discussion of my getting a new car. I didn’t want to bring up the topic and I hadn’t really needed a car.

  Dad got out and I followed him. “What do you think you might want?”

  I looked around and realized we were at an upscale, used car lot.

  “I have no idea,” I said.

  “Well, let’s look at a few things and see what you like. A car should match your personality. I’m not going to put any huge price limit on it, but your mom and I agreed that we’d like you to not get a jeep.”

  I glanced over at him, knowing this must have pained him to say, bringing back memories of Sam’s accident.

  “Why today?” I asked.

  Dad looked up at the sky. “Why not today? Look Danny, we’re never going to move on past Sam, but we can move through what happened and bring his memory with us,” Dad said as he started to cry. “I just want my boy to have a c
ar. Is that too much?”

  He shrugged and walked away from me.

  I stood there, not really sure what to do. Finally, I walked between the cars and looked at each one, trying to find out which one matched my personality. None of them really spoke to me on any level and I wasn’t even sure what that meant.

  Dad found me while I was looking at a Volvo SUV. “That’s a nice car, buddy.” It was, in fact, a very nice car. Dark green with leather interior. It was also probably one of the most boring cars on the lot, squeezed in between a Mercedes and a Lexus. “I don’t think there’s anything here I like.”

  Dad looked frustrated. “Danny, there’s lots of nice cars here. Surely you can find something here you like.”

  I shook my head. I never stood up for myself in making decisions, but Dad had said my car should match my personality and I wasn’t going to settle on a car until it felt right.

  “This might be a long adventure today, Dad,” I smirked.

  “Come on,” he said, putting his hand on my back and leading me back to the car. “I think I know a few more places we might try.”

  The rest of Saturday afternoon was spent looking at cars. We stopped at an old hot dog stand on the Southside of town and sat outside at a picnic table, eating coney dogs that we washed down with root beer. Dad thought it might be nice if we each shared a favorite memory of Sam. He went first, talking about a time when Griffin was a puppy and he had snuck him into school in his backpack. Dad’s eyes filled with tears. “I miss that damn dog even though he peed everywhere.”

  We sat there quietly, in the moment dedicated to Griffin and ate our coney dogs.

  “I remember the first time Sam kissed a girl,” I smiled, remembering the details. Dad looked curious. I set down my coney dog and wiped my hands on a napkin. “He was dating this girl in fifth grade, Shelly Mathers. Anyway, Shelly had decided they were going to kiss in the music room after school, so she pulled him in there and started kissing him. Except instead of Sam, it was me. She couldn’t tell us apart,” I started to laugh. “When Sam found out, he got so mad. He told me I couldn’t tell her and I didn’t, but the next time they kissed, she said it was different and that he had been better the first time.”