Back To The Start

by Peter Styles

  “Mark told you he had called me?”

  “He told Catherine and I that he had called and left you a message. I don’t know what he told Jewel. So, don’t ask me about her.”

  “I wasn’t going to.”

  “Good.” he glanced at Greg briefly before going on. “After a while though, we hadn’t even heard from you. And I thought Mark was acting shifty. That’s when I called you. It took me too long. I should have figured that out earlier.”

  “Hey, it’s okay. You’re the only person to call. I appreciate it.”

  “Yeah?” Ben dropped his cigarette butt and crushed it with his foot. “Figured you weren’t such a piece of shit you wouldn’t come by. Why didn’t Mark tell you? That’s a shitty thing to do—even by my standards.”

  “I don’t have that great of a relationship with Mark.”

  “No shit.”

  Greg found himself wavering. He hadn’t actually talked about their massive falling out in a lot of detail to anyone. It was something he kept close to his chest. Jewel knew the basics. Maybe it was his mood, being tired, or feeling like everyone thought he was garbage, but he suddenly decided to tell Ben.

  “I don’t know how much you remember about Mark—”

  “Not much,” Ben said, dryly.

  Greg fought off a small smile at his tone. “Well, we were close. We got along well. There weren’t ever any issues with us. Until high school.”

  “Who didn’t have issues in high school? Hormones and bullshit. That’s all it was.”

  “You really have the mouth of a sailor.”

  Ben chuckled. The noise was new and Greg couldn’t remember when he had heard anything other than mocking laughter come from him.

  “This isn’t about my fondness for cursing,” he said.

  “Right.” Greg cleared his throat, “High school.”

  He found himself wondering if he could alter the next part of the story. But Ben had seen him on the date with Wayne and hadn’t seemed to care. Plus, the way that he was looking at him… well, it was different from any other time he had been around Ben. He looked at him patiently, waiting for Greg to tell the story at his own pace.

  It was weird. But he felt comforted.

  “Mark found out that I was gay. He caught me sneaking a boy in my room.”

  “What, that bothered him?” There was an edge in Ben’s voice now.

  “It just made things really weird between us. At first, he said he didn’t care. That it wasn’t any of his business. But it became harder to believe that as time went on. We got distant. There was this weird energy between us.”

  “Sounds like your brother is a dick,” Ben said, pulling another cigarette out of the pack. “Like your sexuality should matter at all to him.”

  “I thought so too. I didn’t think… well, I didn’t think it would make such a difference to him. It sort of put a bad taste in my mouth. That’s why I never told my parents. Like, if Mark was badly trying to hide the fact he was weirded out by it, then what about my parents?”

  “Easier to hide than to risk messing things up with them,” Ben replied, softly.

  “Yeah.” Their eyes locked for a couple of seconds before he cleared his throat nervously and looked away. “Anyway, nothing happened for a while until senior year. Graduation was soon and I had been secretly seeing this guy for a couple of months. You know, back then a couple of months was really serious.” He smiled faintly at the memory.

  There was a clicking noise from Ben’s lighter followed by a burst of flame. He brought it to the tip of his cigarette, not saying anything but motioning for Greg to keep going.

  “Right, well, one night Mark and I had started fighting about something stupid. Something small. I can’t even remember what. But the fight got out of control. Mark started shouting these horrible things at me…” Greg trailed off at the memory, the painful remarks washing over him. “Really terrible things about me seeing that guy. I got so angry. We both were saying these horrible things to each other. Just screaming.”

  “Where were your parents?”

  “Not home yet. Mom was still working, just a little part-time job at a doctor’s office. Dad was working late that night too. It was just us. With summer approaching, it was raining a lot too. So, there was this massive storm rolling through as we argued.”

  Ben was silent, allowing Greg to tell the story at his own pace. Maybe he could sense that Greg hadn’t talked about it in this much detail before. Or maybe he was bored and, in a rare moment of kindness, didn’t want to tell Greg that. Either way, he didn’t think that he could suddenly fall silent now.

  “Mark went—well, does it matter what he said? I don’t really feel like repeating it. He said shitty things. And I said shitty things back. It became pretty clear that me being gay bothered him more than he wanted to admit. So, we started fighting about that.”

  “Why did he care so much?” Ben’s tone had reverted to being frosty over the mention of Mark having issues with Greg being gay.

  “I don’t know. It wasn’t like we sat down and discussed why the fact I was gay was an issue for him. Frankly, I don’t even care anymore if it is. What I do and who I am with isn’t any of his business. I’m not going to change who I am for him. He has no… sorry. Sorry, I’m getting worked up over it.”

  Ben took a long drag off his cigarette, not breaking his eye contact with him. It was strange, Greg thought, how comfortable he felt right now. He had spent plenty of time around Ben over the years, but this was the first time he felt like he was truly with him.

  “I think it’s pretty natural to get worked up over someone being an asshole to you because you’re gay, family or not,” Ben finally replied. “Sounds like your brother is just an insecure jerk who is projecting on you.”

  “Projecting what on me?”

  He shrugged. “You know him better than I do. Probably it was just good old- fashioned homophobia back in high school. And now—”

  “He blames me for our dad dying,” Greg whispered softly, cutting Ben short.

  The words hung in the air as the memories threaten to engulf him. He had spent so much time avoiding thinking about that night.

  “What? That’s crazy,” Ben said, moving a little closer to him as if he wanted to comfort him, but wasn’t sure how.

  Greg cleared his throat, hoping that he didn’t get emotional around Ben. He hated crying—and he didn’t want to cry in front of Jewel’s brother.

  “Like I said, we were fighting. Mark stormed off eventually. More like he ran away into the storm. Dad came home soon after and I told him what had happened. Not what it was about, of course, just that we had fought. Dad wanted to go find him and I tagged along. I was furious with my brother but he was still my brother. I didn’t want him out in the storm.”

  More images now. Flashes of lightning across the dark sky. The rain pounding against the car. The comforting sound of the radio playing music. The familiar scent of his father’s cologne still clinging to his jacket.

  Greg’s fingers dug into the hospital wall, tying him to the present. He couldn’t talk about this. He thought he could, but he was wrong. He wasn’t ready. He forced himself to look up at Ben who was looking down at him.

  “You’re really tall,” Greg said, anxious to avoid the subject.

  Ben smiled a little at the remark. “Yeah, I hear that a lot.”

  “Is it all it’s cracked up to be? I heard being really tall can be… nice,” he finished lamely, still anxious to avoid the topic of his father’s death.

  Ben tilted his face back and took another puff on his cigarette. The tip glowed orange and Greg found himself tracing the outline of his jaw in the dim lighting. No one had come by yet or noticed them. Even if they had, Greg didn’t think that Ben would care if someone told him to stop smoking. He didn’t seem to care much for what people said or thought of him. He wished he was a bit more like that.

  “It’s mostly getting things off the top shelf for people. Listen, Greg, if you d
on’t want to talk about this, you don’t have to. You don’t need to explain anything to me. I don’t want to keep you here after the day you had, dredging up bad shit. I can go.”

  The thought of Ben leaving filled Greg with a strange panic and he shook his head, “No, you don’t have to go. I mean, unless you want to. Or need to for work or something.”

  “I don’t start until midnight tonight at the bar. I can stay.”

  There was more silence. Ben was waiting for Greg to take the lead, to steer the conversation to wherever he wanted. He liked that he wasn’t alone, even if it was Ben of all people that was making him feel better. As strange as that was, the entire day had been a mess and he was too tired to dwell on it.

  “We crashed,” Greg finally said, tearing off the band-aid as quickly as he could. “There was a drunk driver. He hit us and we wiped out. You know that part.”

  It was true. Ben, no matter how distant they had been at that time, would have been at least aware of the car crash and the fact his father had died in it. Ben would have been young enough then to probably not give it too much thought. He vaguely remembered Ben at the funeral, only fourteen.

  But he wouldn’t know about the fight beforehand or the after effects of his father’s death.

  “Yeah, I remember. I remember when Jewel found out. She had been terrified something had happened to you. Ran off to the hospital.”

  “I had gotten lucky. The car had struck the driver’s side and Dad…” His voice caught. “Mark blamed me for it.”

  “That’s ridiculous. It’s the drunk asshole’s fault, not yours.” Ben’s tone was sour as he crushed the cigarette under his shoe.

  “Mark and I have been a total wreck ever since. We haven’t gotten along. We have barely spoken. That night I didn’t just lose Dad. I lost my brother, too. He blames me for it and, no matter what I do, I can’t change how he feels about me.”

  “He has no right to blame you for that. Sounds like he’s fucked in the head. Needs a shrink.”

  Greg opened his mouth to speak, but swallowed his words. There was some things he couldn’t say aloud yet, not even with how safe he felt toward Ben at the moment, and instead he went silent.

  Ben didn’t appear to notice, because he kept going. “None of this excuses what he did to you today. Not telling you that your mom is in the hospital is insane no matter which way you look at it. Blaming you for a drunk driver killing your dad—so now he is a jerk to you? Just sounds like guilt to me.”

  “What do you mean?” Greg asked, curiously.

  “He ran off, right? He was younger than you and so, he ran off in a fit of hormones and anger. Next thing you know, your dad is dead. He must be carrying a lot of guilt over it. Probably just thinks it is his fault. But instead of being angry at himself, he takes it out on you. You’re the perfect person to blame. You were involved in the incident and the fight leading up to him running off. Psych 101.”

  “How come I never thought of that then?” Greg mumbled.

  “Because you’re directly part of what happened. Hard to be objective in that mess.”

  “I guess so,” Greg said and then, to his surprise, he yawned.

  “You should head home.”

  “Sorta dreading seeing Jewel,” he said, without thinking.

  “Yeah, join the club,” Ben remarked, pushing off the wall and standing directly in front of him. “Your mom will be alright, Greg. Just try to get some sleep. Don’t dwell on your brother, either. You can punch him tomorrow.”

  “I’m not one for physical fights especially against Mark.” Greg eyed him critically. “What about you? Twenty dollars for you to punch my brother in his face. You look like you could snap him in two now.”

  Was he tired or was there a blush across Ben’s cheeks? It was too dark to tell. He was probably imagining it. Ben wasn’t the type to blush.

  “I’ll do it for thirty,” he replied and then raised his hand a little, as if he was going to pat Greg on the shoulder, before thinking better of it and changing his mind. “Goodnight, Greg.”

  “Goodnight.”

  He watched Ben depart, watched his wide strides as he crossed the parking lot towards his car. Of course, he had parked in employee parking. Probably hadn’t even bothered to check the sign.

  As he left, Greg felt a pang of… something. He was too tired to figure out what. He’d worry about it tomorrow.

  Chapter Nine

  Jewel didn’t come home. Greg had thought that at some point she might have stumbled home, but he was up most of the night. He caved, calling her once at four am. Even though he was upset and confused by her actions, he didn’t want anything to happen to her.

  But there had been no reply. He thought about texting Ben, since he had his number now. But he didn’t want to bother Ben while at work either.

  Instead, he had stared up at the ceiling, reviewing the day and how terrible it had been. It was hard not to think about that night when his dad had died. It was hard not to feel guilt at living through it. Not only just living, but hardly injured at all. He had a scar on his leg from a deep cut… he only physical reminder of that night.

  It was hard to be impartial, to step out of that night and all the mangled thoughts it drudged up. Mark had been young then, listening too much to the boys at school who spouted off disgusting things about gay men. It had been the only night he had said those ugly names, said those unpleasant things, as if it had been a festering wound that he needed to pop.

  Even though it had been back in high school, Greg felt like the marks were seared into his skin. If his own brother had thought that about him…

  Leaving had been easy. Starting over in the city was simple. Greg hadn’t given much thought to Mark after that. It was like erasing his brother after losing his dad. But he had let his mother fall to the wayside.

  And now he was back here, dealing with the anger that had been building over the years with Mark, a best friend he felt like he didn’t know well anymore, and her brother that he was spending too much time dwelling on tonight.

  He turned on his side, staring at his phone. Lazily, he plugged it into the charger. His eyes were finally growing heavy. A little sleep. That was all that Greg wanted…

  *

  Rain striking the window. Steady. Thrumming. The radio is fuzzy. Losing signal. Dad is asking where he had gone but Greg didn’t know. Mark had run off. His words still stung, felt like whips against his skin. He tries to excuse Mark for saying those things, but it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. He doesn’t want to be here anymore. Somewhere else. A different person where his skin won’t be crawling. It will be easier—

  A flash of lights. Headlights. Painfully bright. Coming from the driver’s side window. Greg opened his mouth in warning but then—

  Impact. Glass shattering. The world is upside down, spinning out of control as the car flips. His father’s arms are outstretched, trying to shield Greg, the final act of protection before everything goes dark—

  *

  “There you go, Mom. Do you want anything? Mark is almost finished hooking up the TV,” Greg said, helping Nicki into her bed.

  “No, I’m okay. Thank you though. You don’t need to worry about me,” she replied, sinking into the pillows.

  “Yes, that’s my job,” Catherine remarked, smiling as she bustled into the room.

  Mark had bought a smaller TV for her bedroom, hooking it up so she could rest in bed and still watch something. The brothers hadn’t spoken since meeting at the hospital this morning. It had been Catherine who had informed him of his mother’s release.

  Catherine, who was clearly still beating herself up for Nicki’s fall, was hovering over Nicki and being hyper aware of her every move. Greg wanted to pull her aside and let her know that no one was blaming her, but he didn’t think that she would listen. As far as Catherine was concerned, she had made a mistake checking the mail. It was her fault that Nicki had a seizure and fell. He decided he would wait a little longer to talk to her ab
out it.

  Nicki yawned and gingerly touched the bandage on her head. “I’m okay, really.”

  “Mom, you say that no matter what happens,” Greg reminded her.

  “It’s true,” Mark chimed up, surprising Greg, “How many times have you been sick or injured and told us that you were fine? And you were never fine.”

  Nicki waved her hand. “I’m fine. No need to make a fuss.”

  Greg and Mark fell silent. Both knew there was no point in trying to fight with their mother over this. No matter what happened to her medically over the years, she always claimed she was fine.

  “There. Should work now,” Mark said, turning on the TV.

  Nicki gave a small shake of her head. “Why did we get that thing? I won’t be in here very long.”

  “Doctor said bed rest,” Catherine replied, gently. “This way it won’t be as dull.”

  Nicki huffed at this but didn’t reply. Clearly the idea of bed rest disagreed with her. Catherine was going to have her hands full trying to get her to listen.

  “What won’t be dull?” Nicki’s mind wandered. “I have a headache.”

  “I’ll get you something. Maybe you should nap.”

  “What are you getting?” she asked.

  “Headache pills,” Catherine replied in a soft voice and then stood up. “Be right back.”

  She left the room, leaving Greg alone with his mother and brother. Mark was avoiding his gaze. Despite his best efforts to focus on the moment, the fight from so long ago flashed across his brain. He closed his eyes for a moment and collected himself.

  “Alright, dear?” Nicki asked, curiously.

  “I’m fine.” He forced himself to smile. “Didn’t sleep well, that’s all.”

  “Do you work today? Maybe you can catch a nap,” Nicki said.

  “Yeah, probably need to rest up from all that painting,” Mark grumbled under his breath.

  Greg shot him daggers with his stare, resisting the urge to go off on him. Was he really going to start his shit right now?

  “He must be carrying a lot of guilt over it. Probably just thinks it is his fault. But instead of being angry at himself, he takes it out on you. You’re the perfect person to blame.” Ben’s words floated in his head and he felt himself cool toward Mark.