Wrong Side of Town wm-3

by Komal Kant

  “Uh—” My voice caught in my throat and a volley of goose pimples assaulted my arms that I knew had nothing to do with the freezing temperature. Even if it had been a typical Iowa summer, I would still be shivering.

  Vincent held my gaze, neither of us daring to break it. My head was filled with a buzzing that echoed around empty walls. It was hard to exercise common sense and look away; not when Vincent was staring at me like he had never laid eyes on anyone quite like me.

  What confused me the most was that I was acting the exact same way. This would be the perfect opportunity for one of my friends to shake some sense into me.

  By some good fortune, Dylan tugged on the sleeve of my sweater. Startled, I broke away from the eye lock and looked down to meet Dylan’s expression of impatience. “Did you hear me?”

  Shaking my head, I bent down so I was at eye level with him. “Sorry, what were you saying?”

  “I said your sister’s pretty like you.”

  Straightening up, I scanned the deserted parking lot and found Dad’s station wagon parked a few feet away where Savannah had originally dropped me off. The interior light was on inside the car, illuminating Savannah’s face as she stared out at us.

  “I’d better get going.” I looked back at Vincent, but his expression was blank and inscrutable. There was no way of telling what was running through his head. “I’ll see you on Friday.”

  “See you then!” Dylan said with an enthusiasm that made me smile.

  Vincent didn’t respond at all, which I found both rude and strange. Well, whatever. I wasn’t going to mope around just because he wanted to be anti-social. I was actually glad to be getting away from him. His presence smothered my thoughts.

  I hurried to the car, got in, and was hit by a blast of hot air. Anna had the heat cranked up high. She also had this look on her face like someone had used her as a punching bag and she hadn’t been expecting it.

  “What?” I asked when she continued to stare at me.

  She pointed past me and out the window. “You spent, like, an hour with that guy. Did you notice how freaking hot he was?”

  I sighed into my hand, shaking my head. If only my sister knew who he really was; that he was a Madden and that sometimes he scared the heck out of me for that sole reason.

  “No, I didn’t really notice,” I lied.

  Savannah rolled her eyes as she pulled out of the parking lot. “Oh, Estee, you bore.”

  If only she knew the truth—that Vincent had awakened a tumult of feelings within me that I wasn’t quite ready to face myself.

  * * *

  When we got home, the hairs on my arms stood up straight.

  Even from the driveway, I could tell that something wasn’t right. The door was wide open, and all the lights were on. That meant that Dad was home.

  “Estella?” Savannah asked, her tone uncertain as she got out of the car.

  My entire body shook as a resounding crash came from inside the house. “Get back in the car!” I gestured at Savannah, but she was shaking her head.

  “No, I’m coming in with you!”

  “There is no way I am letting you do that,” I said in a firm tone. “Let me handle this. You get back in the car and wait for me to come out, do you understand?”

  It was hard to shelter Savannah from the disease that plagued our family, but I was going to try my hardest. She was too young to have to face this, and I was going to protect her as best as I could. There was no hope for me; I had already seen the worst that life had to offer. I was already broken.

  With determination, I strode up the front steps and inside the house, shutting the front door behind me. But as soon as I crossed the threshold and stood in the hallway, my bravado shattered. There was a pungent smell of vomit coming from somewhere inside the house that made me want to retch.

  My body shook again and tears stung my eyes like prickles as he advanced towards me. I was once again reduced to a quivering child. I couldn’t do anything to make myself act; I just stood there, scared and helpless.

  A bottle flew past me, barely missing my face, and smashed against the front door, breaking into hundreds of tiny fragments. He might as well have hit his target, the way my knees buckled at his approach. I felt like the bottle had smashed into my face, the glass shattering upon impact and disfiguring my face a hundred different ways.

  Reaching out, I placed a hand on the wall to brace myself, and focused on him as he started swearing at me. He was dressed in the clothes he had been wearing two days ago; a pair of faded pants and an unbuttoned shirt that he wore to work. There was an uneven growth of stubble on his face and he definitely hadn’t showered in a few days.

  This was my father. This was the man who was supposed to take care of me and protect me. But he had failed, and now he was tearing our entire family apart.

  “You whore! You fucking piece of trash! Where were you? Roaming around the Goddamn streets like your slut mother! You’re worthless, just like her!”

  Each word slashed at me like a cruel knife. I struggled to hold myself together, to stay strong, but it was so difficult. I just wanted to be free from this life. I was sick of the reminders of my mother. I wanted to forget that she had ever existed, but mainly, I just wanted to run away.

  I wanted to run away from the responsibilities of this life. I wanted to go away to a place where I wasn’t “me” anymore. I wanted to be someone else—someone who was happy. I couldn’t remember the last time that I was happy, when my smile hadn’t been false.

  But I couldn’t run away. This was my life and I had to face it. I had to face it for my sister. I wanted to be her protector and there was no way in hell I would let her face this. I had to be strong. I had to be the mother that she didn’t have anymore

  “Daddy, please,” I begged, my voice wavering, “calm down.”

  The tears began squeezing their way from my eyes, wanting to escape, not wanting to be a part of my weak body.

  Thankfully, this made him stop within inches of me. Unfortunately, the smell rolling off him assaulted me. He stank of sweat, vomit, and alcohol, and I pressed myself against the wall in hopes of escaping the stench.

  It didn’t work, though. The smell was too strong.

  “I won’t calm down! Why should I calm down when you’re sleeping around like a whore? You stupid girl!”

  He leaned towards me and grabbed me by the hair, shaking me a little. I shrank against the wall, wanting to curl up into a ball but there was a burning sensation of pain from where he was grasping my hair and pulling it.

  This wasn’t my father. This was a monster fuelled by alcohol and rage. This was a person who was just as broken and damaged as me. Tomorrow he wouldn’t remember any of it, and if he did, he would be sorry for it.

  I couldn’t give up on him. Even if it killed me.

  “Daddy, I’m not like her,” I said, desperate for him to release me. “I promise I’m not like her. Please, just calm down. For me. For Anna.”

  Dad’s breathing slowed, and he fixed me with his glazed over blue eyes. He released my hair, and grasped my face in both hands. “You-you look so much like her. Same hair, same eyes, same lips.”

  I stayed perfectly still as he studied me, his grip finally slackening. He backed away and slammed a fist into the wall behind him. “I miss her so much! I miss her! She betrayed me, but I miss her! I love her!”

  Despite wanting his hands off me only moments ago, I found myself lurching towards him—ignoring the searing of my skull—and wrapping an arm around his back. “I know, I know you do.” It was hard to believe that the calm, soothing voice was coming from my mouth. I felt anything but calm on the inside. “But you can’t let her hold you back. You’re better than that.”

  In a single moment of clarity, Dad fixed his eyes on me. “I’m sorry. I just miss her so much. How could she do this to me? To us? You remind me so much of her.” He turned and wrapped his arms around me, burying his head into my shoulder and sobbing. “I just want to forge
t her. Please help me forget her. You’re the only one who can help me forget.”

  This broken man—my father—was shattering in front of me, and I had to help him even if I didn’t want to. I shouldn’t have to do this. Fathers were supposed to protect their daughters, not the other way around.

  “Help me sleep,” he murmured into my shoulder. “I can’t sleep. Help me sleep.”

  Choking back a sob, I nodded and allowed him to grab my wrist and pull me towards his room. I didn’t want to go in there. I didn’t want to console him in the way he needed me to—he had let me down—but I couldn’t make myself dig my feet into the floor and say no.

  The door shut behind us and it was already too late.

  I couldn’t say no, and that was my biggest fault.

  * * *

  Twenty minutes later, I walked back outside.

  There was another car pulling into the driveway just as Savannah ran to me. It was a car that was all too familiar.

  “Are you okay?” Savannah asked, but my attention was on the car and the person getting out of it.

  “Why is Seth here?”

  Seth Markson was my cousin—he was dad’s brother’s only son—and had dropped in on us from time to time ever since Mom had left home. He was twenty-six-years-old and worked in real estate where he earned decent money, so he had helped us out when we were struggling with money even though I hadn’t wanted him to.

  I didn’t like the idea of owing Seth money. I didn’t like the idea of owing him anything.

  “I called him,” Savannah answered. “I got worried when you didn’t come out right away, and I didn’t want to call Nate after what happened last time.”

  I winced at the not-too-distant memory. The last time Nate and Dad had come face to face, blows had been exchanged. None of us wanted that to happen ever again.

  “So you called Seth?” I hissed at her, as Seth approached us with brisk steps. He was dressed in a business suit and it was pretty clear he’d just finished work. “You know how I feel about—”

  “Girls, what’s going on here?” Seth asked, stopping in front of us.

  You couldn’t tell from looking at the three of us that we were related. Seth had dark blonde hair, periwinkle blue eyes, a square jaw and was a lot stockier than us.

  “Hey, Seth,” Savannah said, giving him a quick hug. “You know, just the usual with Dad. Estee was in there for so long and I got worried, so I called you. I hope you don’t mind.”

  Seth’s eyes searched mine as he ruffled Savannah’s hair in the same moment. “I don’t mind at all. I told you I’d always look out for you guys. If you ever need me, you know you can call me, right?”

  He gave me a pointed look as though trying to drive the point home. I had heard this from Seth several times, but I never called him. I knew he was being genuine about helping out, but I didn’t want to be anyone’s charity case. Anna was the one who was close to him—she saw him as a big brother, even more now that Nate had moved out.

  The skin of my left arm began to itch beneath my sweater and despite not wanting to be obvious about it, I rubbed at the itch over the sweater. Seth followed my motion and scrutinized my arm. A brief look of satisfaction flitted across his face before turning serious once again.

  “We’re doing okay,” I managed to say.

  My head was still swimming from my encounter with Dad and it was difficult to find the right words to say to Seth. All I knew was that I didn’t want anyone else getting involved in our personal matter. This was something I wanted to handle myself, even if it destroyed me.

  The expression on Seth’s face was one of concern as he leaned forward and placed a hand over the very spot on my arm that I had been rubbing seconds ago. His eyes were like blue lasers probing me, trying to figure me out and analyze me.

  “I know this isn’t easy for you guys to handle. No one should have to see their worthless father passed out on the floor every day. He’s not fit to take care of you. There’s always room at my place—”

  “No.” My tone was firm. My word was final. This was where I drew the line.

  There were a lot of things I could overlook, but I wasn’t going to stand here and pretend that everything was fine when it obviously wasn’t.

  Seth reacted as though I had spit in his face, and he looked genuinely hurt by my tone of voice. He held up his hands in surrender and took a step back, glancing at Savannah who was shooting me daggers. “What about you, Anna? How are you holding up?”

  “I’d rather not be here for longer than I have to. If it were up to me, I would come and live with you.” Once again, my little sister gave me a death look which I completely ignored.

  “Money’s still tight, huh?”

  “It would be tight if we actually had money. Estee and Nate don’t want me to work; they’d rather I focus on studying and shit. And, Dad, whenever he can be bothered to drag his ass out of bed and go to work, spends most of his money on alcohol. Estee just got a new job.”

  Seth turned to me, his eyes filled with interest. “You have a new job? Where?”

  “Penthill. I tutor a ten-year-old.”

  “Okay, but it’s still gotta be hard.” Seth stared at me as though daring me to disagree with him.

  Finally, I released a sigh and fixed him with a steely look. “Yes, it’s hard, okay? But we’re doing the best we can.”

  He seemed satisfied with my answer as he reached into the back pocket of his tailored pants and pulled out his wallet. Upon opening it, he rifled through it and pulled out several fifty dollar bills before handing them to Savannah who simply gaped at them.

  “What are you doing?” I demanded, pretty much at a loss for words.

  “Helping,” Seth said. “It’s okay to ask for help.”

  “I didn’t ask for help!” I cried, feeling helpless again.

  “I can see the look in your eyes. I can tell what you want.”

  For a moment, I felt small, weak, fragile. For a moment, I lost myself.

  I must’ve blanked out, because the next thing I knew, Savannah was shaking my shoulder, and Seth was retreating to his car.

  “That was rude, Estee!” Savannah snapped in my ear. “You could’ve at least said bye! He’s just trying to help!”

  Even though I knew my sister was right, all I could muster was a half-hearted shrug which seemed to infuriate her further. She muttered something under her breath before storming inside the house.

  I stood outside for a long time, staring up at the star-filled sky, searching for the hope that had left me a long time ago.

  The world was not filled with kindness; it was just a huge knotted string of cruelty.

  Chapter Six

  Vincent

  Ruby was home again.

  Her piece of junk car was parked in the front yard next to my brothers’ bikes and trucks.

  Sometimes we didn’t see her for months. Other times, it would only be a few days. We weren’t sure where she disappeared to, but we knew it was always to be with some guy she’d met.

  She waitressed at a shit ass bar just out of town, so any guy who even glanced her way and was brave enough to put up with her crap for an unspecified period of time, she was happy to go home with.

  We never got any warning. One day, she’d be there and the next day, half her clothes would be gone. That woman was the picture of a loving and caring mother.

  The last we’d seen her was four months ago, back in August. This wasn’t the longest she’d been gone. Once, when I was about Dylan’s age, she’d left for six months and when she’d come back, she’d been pregnant with Dylan.

  Throughout Ryder, Tyson, and my childhood, our mother had been absent. Our gran had taken care of us until she’d died when Dylan had been a year old. Since then—at only sixteen-years-old, Ryder had taken care of us. He had become the father we’d never known, and the protector we’d always needed.

  Beside me, Dylan was peering through the windshield with wide eyes. He didn’t seem upset; he kind o
f just looked hopeful. I knew the look well. I’d been that same kid ten years ago. Back when I’d hoped that I’d have a father again and that my mother would be the way normal mothers were—making dinner, reading bedtime stories, and picking me up from school.

  But my childhood had been nothing like that. My mother had had strange men over, disappeared for months at a time, did drugs, and had gotten drunk often.

  I learned quickly that hope was for idiots.

  Yet, a part of me didn’t want Dylan to be like that. I wanted him to hold onto the things that made him innocent. I wanted him to hold onto his childhood for as long as he could.

  “Is that her?” he asked me, his voice barely above a whisper.

  It was like he was afraid to talk too loud in fear that she would fade away like a spirit or something.

  “Yes, Dil, that’s her.”

  I didn’t bother saying anything else as we exited the car and headed towards the front door. Tyson was leaning against the wooden railing on the front porch, looking agitated. He’d probably heard me pull up and decided to let us in on whatever hell was raging inside.

  Ryder was home and I knew for a fact that he was probably verbally abusing the crap out of our mother. He’d had a deep hatred for her ever since we were growing up. Maybe because he’d been older and remembered a lot more from when she’d been on her downward spiral, or maybe there was so much anger inside him that the only way he knew to direct it was by hating her.

  “Ruby’s home,” Tyson said, as a way of greeting.

  None of us actually called our mother “Mom”. That word implied a term of endearment; it implied closeness to a person, and that was something we didn’t have with her. So, to us, she was simply Ruby, the woman who had given birth to us.

  “Did you guys pick up anything for dinner?” I asked, ignoring what he’d just said and walking inside.

  My way of coping with Ruby’s return was to act like nothing had changed. There was no point in getting angry or upset or reacting at all. There was no point in hoping or being happy, because her return would only be temporary. As soon as she found another guy who’d fuck her and buy her nice things, she’d be out of here without a backward glance.