The Before Now and After Then

by Pen Name Publishing

  “Mom?” I cried out.

  “I’m right here,” she said, running back up the stairs from the kitchen. She lifted the glass to my lips and I could feel the cold water run down my throat.

  “I can’t breathe!” I screamed, feeling my heart race even faster, so fast that my chest was starting to hurt.

  Mom rubbed my back, “Yes you can honey or you wouldn’t be able to talk. Take a deep breath for me.”

  I tried, but I couldn’t. She grabbed my hands but the sensation in my fingertips started to dance away as the room became cloudy and everything faded to black.

  When I woke up, I was laying in my old bed. Mom and Dad were sitting on Sam’s bed, watching me. “What happened?”

  “You fainted, honey. I called your dad and we brought you up here. You’ve been asleep for hours.” She walked over and sat down next to me. “This fainting thing is really starting to worry me.”

  “Me too,” Dad said. “We’re going to get you into see a doctor as soon as possible.”

  I sat up and looked around the room, getting my bearings. “I don’t need to see a doctor.”

  “We’ll decide what you do and don’t need,” Dad said. “And this has gone on long enough. We should have had this checked out years ago.”

  Outside, it was dark. The street lights beamed in through the window. “Well, it’s obviously not just from me being teased,” I said, looking at Mom.

  “That’s true,” she smiled, patting my back. “I think we should wait for another day to do the room.” She stood up and walked to the door.

  “No, I want to do it now,” I said.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah, we’re already here.” I stood up slowly, surveying the room. “Can I just take what I want and leave the rest for you guys to box up?”

  Mom looked at Dad and smiled, “I think that’s a great idea.” She walked out into the hall and grabbed a box and set it down inside the door. “We’ll leave you alone and just let us know when you’re done.”

  They both hugged me and walked out of the room. I sat back down on the edge of the bed for a long time. Finally, I walked over and fell onto Sam’s bed, thinking about all of the times we had wrestled each other growing up. His pillow faintly smelled of something that reminded me of him.

  I picked up the box and put it on my bed, emptying my desk drawers into it. I then did the same with Sam’s but nothing in the box felt important to me. I took a framed picture of Sam and Jess as well as a picture of the two of us sitting in our new jeep, and placed them in the box. A few weeks after he died, I had thought I might find a journal or secret notes or something hidden, but I had found nothing. Sam had been as honest and real in death as he had been in life. Other than his lacrosse jerseys and medals, pictures stacked into a shoebox and a neatly kept desk, there was nothing that defined Sam. I wanted to find something that would always remind me of him and who he was; something that defined his personality like he was still alive.

  Walking to my side of the room I found it was more desperate than Sam’s. Of course, I had already taken most of my clothes to Mom’s, but nothing identified the room as being mine other than a giant wood cutout that said DANNY over my bed.

  I grabbed Sam’s pillow and held it tight to my chest, pulling in that smell that reminded me of him. I put the box on his desk and walked out of the room, taking only the pillow.

  When I walked downstairs, Mom was sitting on the front porch with the door wide open.

  “I’m ready,” I said.

  She turned around and saw me holding the pillow. “Is that all you’re taking?”

  I nodded.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah,” I whispered. “Nothing really feels like his anymore.”

  “OK,” she replied. “Come sit down next to me for a minute.”

  I walked outside and sat next to her. She held on firmly to a cup of coffee in a blue mug with a white ship on it. I remembered we had bought it for her for Mother’s Day one year in Michigan. Dad had given Sam and I money to buy Mom a gift and after roaming the tourist shops that lined the street, we went into a small coffee shop and found the mug. It had been her favorite mug ever since, and I had rarely ever seen her drink coffee from anything else.

  She took a sip and put her head on my shoulder. “This has been a good home to us.”

  I smiled, pushing back tears. “Yeah, I’m going to miss it.”

  “Me too,” she said and started to cry. “I feel like once it’s gone I won’t be able to see him anymore. In my memory, I only see him here.”

  I nodded. I knew exactly what she meant.

  “But I can’t be here anymore. It makes me too sad,” she said.

  We sat there for the longest time in silence, watching some little kids ride their bikes back and forth down the street. “I miss you guys at that age. Sometimes I wish I could just go back and stop time forever.”

  She sat up and grabbed her purse from behind her, taking out her wallet.

  “What are you doing?” I asked as Mom searched through her change, looking at every coin.

  “I’m finding a good year,” she said. “Aha! 2001. That was a good year.”

  “It was?”

  “Yes. It was the year we moved into this house.” She stood up and walked over to the huge beech tree that Sam and I had climbed when we were kids. “Come on. Help me.” She got on her knees and started digging in the ground.

  “What exactly are we doing?” I asked.

  “We’re planting a memory. That way, there will always be a part of us here, no matter whose house it becomes.”

  I got down on my knees and started digging in the ground next to her. The earth felt good on my fingers. I noticed she was crying, almost hysterically although silent, and it made me start crying too. We dug until we reached a large root of the tree and then Mom handed me the shiny penny.

  “Kiss it and make a wish.”

  I kissed the penny and I threw it into the hole. We piled the dirt back on top and patted it down until it looked like there had never been a hole.

  “Perfect,” she said, dusting off her hands and sitting back on her heels, looking deep into the invisible hole; a grave for one cent memories. For a few minutes we were silent, and then she stood up and started walking back to the porch. “Are you ready?”

  I nodded and grabbed Sam’s pillow, throwing it into the back seat of the car. I ran up to the front door one last time and looked inside, “Mom?”

  “Yes, honey.”

  “I don’t ever want to come back here, OK?”

  She nodded, not being able to hold back the tears.

  I looked up the stairs one last time and whispered “Goodbye Sam”, and then I turned and walked out of the house. Mom closed the door behind me, lingering as she turned the key.

  We got into the car and Mom handed me the sailboat coffee mug before she started the engine.

  “I love you Danny.” She said, grabbing my hand.

  “I love you too, Mom.” I said, holding on firmly.

  I looked at the house as she backed out of the driveway watching all of the memories float by on a penny. As she drove away, the house grew smaller and smaller, and just as it was almost out of site, I could have sworn I saw two little blonde haired boys climbing the tree in our front yard, waiting for an adventure.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Rusty was sitting on our front porch when we got home. His mom’s mini-van was parked in front of the house.

  Mom got out. “Hi Rusty,” Mom said, touching his arm as she passed by him and walked into the house.

  “What’s wrong with her?” Rusty asked me, his gaze following my mom as she closed the door behind her.

  “It’s just been a really long day.”

  I looked down at the ground and kicked a rock, hitting Rusty’s leg.

  “What’s wrong with you?” he asked.

  “Did I do something wrong?”

  “No, what would make you think that?”
>
  “Well, you never texted back last night and I didn’t hear from you all day today. When I stopped by your house, your grandma wouldn’t let me see you.”

  “Wait a second,” Rusty said. “I lost my phone, which is why I didn’t text you back. And my grandma doesn’t speak any English so she probably didn’t understand what you were saying to her.”

  “But where were you today?” I asked.

  Rusty sighed, “Mya woke up really sick this morning so we had to take her to the hospital. I’ve been there all day with my mom.”

  I suddenly felt like a complete asshole. “Oh. I’m sorry I just…”

  “Why would you think you did anything wrong? Last night was perfect.” He walked over and hugged me, putting his hands in my back pocket.

  “Is Mya OK?”

  “Yeah, the doctors ran a bunch of tests but she seems better now. My mom let me use her van but I have to take my grandma back down to the hospital.”

  I looked up at him. “You really lost your phone?”

  “Yeah, but I think I know where it is.” He let go and walked over to the passenger side of my car and opened the door. Looking under the seat, he pulled out The Cure album and showed it to me. Then pulled out his phone and held it up. “Here it is. I thought maybe it had slid under there yesterday. It’s completely dead.”

  I laughed. “Well, you have about ten phone calls and texts from me.”

  “That’s sweet,” he said, kissing my cheek. “I can’t stay. I promised I’d come right back. But I’ll charge my phone and I promise I’ll call and text.”

  “Do you want me to pick you up for school in the morning?”

  “No. I don’t know if I’ll be back to school tomorrow. It all depends on if my mom needs me to help with Carlos,” Rusty said.

  “OK.”

  “But I promise tomorrow night we’ll hang out. Maybe we can finally cash in on our messing around rain check from the other night.”

  I smiled. “It was better just falling asleep in your bed.”

  “Maybe we can fall asleep in your bed next time,” he said, kissing me goodbye, before leaving.

  I grabbed Sam’s pillow from the car and walked inside, finding the house in complete darkness. Upstairs I found Alex reading in the guest bedroom. “Your mom went to sleep. Sounds like you gave everyone a bit of a scare today.”

  “I guess,” I said, standing in the doorway.

  “How’s Rusty?”

  “Good. I thought he was mad at me.”

  “Why?” Alex asked.

  “Because I hadn’t heard from him all day. I thought maybe I had done something wrong.”

  “You didn’t hear from him for one day and you thought he was mad at you?” Alex asked. “Imagine if you guys had been apart for years.”

  I laughed. “If I didn’t hear from him for years, I would probably expect him to be mad.”

  Alex raised his eyebrow, “Really? Sometimes love takes us places we don’t understand until we get there.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “I mean that people like absolutes. They like hearing things like I’ll love you forever and I will always love you, but that’s not really how life works.” He closed his book and took off his glasses. “Life and love are these confusing travels when all we’re really looking for is a way to get home. And home is here,” he said, pointing to his heart.

  “Is that what you’re looking for?” I asked.

  “Maybe, maybe not. I haven’t decided yet.”

  I yawned. “I’m confused and I’m going to bed.”

  Alex laughed. “What are you confused about?”

  “All this talk about travels and journeys. Why can’t adults just speak normally?”

  “Do you like Rusty?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Does he feel like home to you?”

  I thought about this for a moment. Maybe it was too soon to tell, but there was something about being with Rusty that made me feel safe. When I had curled up next to him in his bed, it had felt like I had come home.

  I nodded.

  “If you didn’t see Rusty for ten or twenty years and then you saw him again from across the room, would it still feel the same?”

  I tried to imagine not seeing him for that many years, but it made me sad. “I don’t know. I guess I don’t want to find out.”

  “When you do, you’ll know if he’s your own something to live for.”

  “What’s that?” I asked.

  “Love,” Alex said. “It’s the meaning of life. People get so confused thinking the purpose of life is about the perfect career or place to live, but that’s all a bunch of crap. The meaning of life is spending it with people who feel like home to you. And finding that one special person who’s your something to live for is the ultimate goal.”

  I leaned up against the door. “Have you had your own something to live for or is it just a quote from your book?”

  “No, I had mine,” he said.

  “How did you know?”

  Alex was silent for a moment. “You know because the first thing you think about every morning is that other person. You live your days wanting to make them happier than you can ever imagine being. You find yourself thinking about them all of the time and imagining being with them when you’re not. It’s not obsessive love, its shared love, because they feel the same way about you.”

  “What happened to yours?”

  Alex leaned back against the pillows. “That’s a long story and it’s getting late. Maybe another time.” He opened his book and I turned around. “But Danny,” he said, catching my attention. “As much as I don’t want you to get hurt finding out if Rusty is the one, sometimes getting hurt is the important part of the journey.”

  “Is that why people say that teenagers don’t know what love is?”

  “I think that statement is a bunch of bullshit. Love feels the same at fifteen as it does at forty.”

  I hung on those last words as I walked out of the room, echoing my goodnight with a wave.

  When I got to my room, I took off my clothes, turned on my fan and got right into bed. I was exhausted. I took off Sam’s watch and put it on my nightstand, next to my phone. As soon as I turned off the lights, my phone buzzed to life.

  I picked it up and saw that Rusty had sent me a picture of himself pulling his hair with his mouth open like he was in agony. “I’m going crazy not being able to be with you all the time,” he texted.

  I smiled and turned on the light, taking a picture of myself with my eyes closed, kissing the air. “I’m kissing you right now,” I texted back.

  “Talk to you tomorrow.”

  “You too.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  I woke up to a text from Rusty telling me he wouldn’t be in school because he was still at the hospital with his family, but that he wanted to hang out later. I texted him back and told him to let me know when he was home.

  When I got to school, Cher was waiting for me by my locker again. “I’m trying not to bother you since you’re in love, but I was hoping I’d hear from you last night.”

  “Sorry. I got busy,” I said.

  “Uh huh, I’m sure,” she smirked. “It’s cool. Just so you know I have no friends and no boyfriend and even my beautiful boy has become that girl who gives up all of her friends when she gets a boyfriend.”

  I laughed, “I am not that girl.”

  “We’ll see. Anyway, we’re late for French. Come on.”

  The rest of the morning was completely mundane: conjugated verbs in French, World War II in History and photosynthesis in Botany.

  By lunch time, I was starving. Cher and I decided on pizza and grabbed two slices each, sitting at a table by the back, hoping to avoid Pat and his crew even though neither one of us would admit it.

  Unfortunately, almost as if he had special radar, he found us only five minutes into lunch. “Well, well, if it isn’t my lover boy and his gangly girlfriend with the twisted tits.” His fr
iends laughed as he put his hand on my shoulder. “Are you gonna come over tonight and service me and my boys?”

  “Leave him alone,” Cher said.

  “Shut up, bitch.”

  “What did you say?” she said, standing up, her words frosted with iciness.

  “I said, shut up bitch!” he slammed his fist on the table and the entire cafeteria fell silent.

  “I think maybe you should shut the fuck up, bitch!” I heard the voice behind me before I saw him.

  Rusty.

  “Who the fuck are you?” Pat asked, turning and pointing at Rusty.

  “I’m his boyfriend. And if you talk to him like that again, I’ll beat your fucking ass,” he hissed, pounding his fist on the table next to Pat. “Do you understand me?”

  It took Pat an entire minute to process what had just happened before he took Rusty by the neck and pushed him into the wall. Everyone in the cafeteria crowded around and Cher jumped on Pat, pounding his back as Rusty kneed him, bringing Pat to his knees.

  “I’m not fucking joking!” Rusty screamed. “Leave him the fuck alone!” He kicked his side and started to walk away as Pat grabbed him and threw him to the ground, punching him in the face. Rusty covered his face and kneed him again, forcing Pat back to the ground. When he did, Rusty punched him in the nose and blood flew all over the both of them.

  Pat’s friends didn’t move. They just stood and watched. Cher tried to get back into the fight, but some girls pulled her back, restraining her so she wouldn’t get hurt. Finally, several male teachers ran over.

  “Break it up, break it up,” they yelled, pulling Rusty and Pat apart. “Both of you go to the Dean’s office, now!”

  And they were led away.

  I grabbed my backpack and followed after them as Cher caught up with me. She was out of breath. “So that’s him? That’s your boyfriend?”

  I nodded.

  “Holy shit, he’s hot!” Cher said.

  “Yeah, he is.”

  When we got to the dean’s office, the secretary wouldn’t let us talk to the Dean, even though we explained that I was the reason for the fight. “They’ll call you if they need you. Now go back to class.”