by C. Penticoff
"Night, Iz." Tyson kissed my cheek as he walked by and I told him I loved him.
Grayson leaned against the door, waiting for me.
"Thank you so much, Gray. I appreciate it."
"You're welcome. You know I'd do anything for you, Iz."
"And you know I'd do anything for you." I looked away in the middle of saying this. I guess facing him...facing the truth about what happened was difficult.
"Hey, you know I was thinking that maybe I could stay the night."
"Grayson, just because--."
"Listen, I haven't used all day and I'm ready to stop for good this time."
"And how many times have you said that?" I said this with more attitude then I probably needed, but damn I'd heard it a thousand times.
"Izzy, I really mean it. I'm done with this lifestyle, and seeing mom lately all whacked out on pills made me realize even more that I need to be done and put this behind me."
"I've literally heard these exact words at least three times before, even down to saying that ‘seeing mom all fucked up’ changed your outlook."
"So what, are you just going to shut your twin brother out of your life for good?"
"Grayson, you fucked my boyfriend!" His demeanour changed the moment I said that. He lowered his shoulders and took a deep breath.
"Izzy, I'm--"
"Stop." I put my hand over his mouth. He shoved my hand away, but he still let me talk. "I know you're sorry. I know you were really high and fucked up in general." My voice started to raise. "And I also know that you still are, and will continue to be until you stop all this fuckery bullshit and get fucking help."
"Izzy, the place I'm staying is filled with other people who also use. I gotta get outta there. I'll never stop if I don't." He put his hands in prayer position. "Please, Izzy." His eyes were now watering.
He moved his lips to talk again, but I interrupted him. "If you go to a detox center, call me and we can discuss you staying here." Even though he never officially asked me to stay here permanently, I knew that's where this was going.
"I'll go right now," he said.
"I hope you do." I pulled him in to give him a hug. When I had my brother close to me, I felt a lump form in my throat. The lump of suppressed tears. I didn't want these tears to make it to the surface, so I pulled away.
"I love you." I squeezed his right shoulder.
"I love you too, sis. I'm gonna do this."
I hoped like Hell he would.
***
I woke up the next morning to a text from Grayson saying he was currently checking in to detox and that he'd call me as soon as he could.
Is he really going to get help? I wondered.
Could I trust him? I had been through this with my twin countless times. Watching him ruin his life with drugs. Listening to the same speech he gave me last night. Hoping to God he was going to finally quit. That this would finally be the wake-up call--the one that would rid me of a brother who was destroying his life when there was nothing I could do to stop him. Don't get me wrong, I was happy that he was in detox. This had actually been a step further than he had ever taken before. Sure, he had stopped using drugs in the past temporarily, but he had never enrolled himself into detox. It seemed so official. It was nice to see, but I had to be smart. I couldn't just get my hopes up, believe everything that he told me, just to be let down in the end.
I simply texted: Awesome, little bro.
Even though we were technically the same age, I always called him little bro to tease him since I was born three minutes earlier than he was.
I looked over to see Coyote was still sleeping in her playpen which didn't surprise me since she was up late the night before. I always had Coyote in bed by nine every night but my irresponsible mother probably had her up late the night before also.
I came into the kitchen and opened the left cabinet. Revealed was the emptiness that reminded me we were broke. Mom's food stamp card had four cents on it, so that was useless. That was one of the conditions I had for her when agreeing to take care of the kids-- she had to give me her food stamp card and that would be her payment.
I'd been caring for my siblings since before I could remember. There were a few times where she never showed up after me with them, so I had them overnight when I was as young as nine years old. Nine years old. I was terrified. My younger brother and sister were scared and bawling and that in itself stressed my child-self out enough, but I couldn't show them I was scared. I had to learn to be calm through the storm at such a young age.
That thought made me slam the cabinet door shut.
There's nothing to eat, and there isn’t going to be for about a week. I opened the fridge and started brainstorming on what I could make for everyone, but I got distracted by a shitty ass thought. Rent's due in a few days.
"Fuck. I hate worrying about this," I whispered.
And I especially hated having to scramble random food together to feed everyone.
I heard a small knock on the door and wondered who it could be.
When I opened the door, no one was there but something fell at my feet. I glanced down to see the back of a canvas--the kind you paint on. When I turned the canvas over, a beautiful painting of a tree revealed itself. On each of its limbs hung several peaches, and some laid on the grass which was blowing in the wind. It was when I read the words above the tree that I knew who this was from: Life is all about the peaches.
I realized the woman next door had to have left that there. I figured it must have been for me, so I took it inside. It wasn't usually my style, but it was actually a beautiful painting. I wondered if she painted it herself, just for me. What do I do with a canvas? I had nothing to hang it up with and nothing to display it on, so I just propped it against the T.V. for the time being.
Okay, focus. "Find food," I told myself. We were always that low on food at the end of the month. Getting creative had turned into an art at that point.
I scanned the fridge where I found the half package of bacon from a week prior and pulled that out. There wasn't much else in the fridge to work with, so I moved into the cupboards. I grabbed pancake mix and decided that I'd grill chopped up bacon and sprinkle it on the pancakes when I cooked them. "Bacon, maple pancakes," I said with enthusiasm. I groaned when I found the practically empty bottle of maple syrup, but perked up when I realized we still had to-go syrups from having take-out breakfast months prior.
A few minutes later, a text from Kent pulled me away midway through making breakfast.
Kent: Morning, gorgeous.
Not going to lie, I was surprised he was being so attentive to me. What the hell does he want from me? He could literally get anyone and he was choosing to focus on me? Maybe it's because I'm not fawning over him. I knew he was used to being adored by women. Just by the way the women were staring at him when I was at his house party made it obvious enough--not to mention he's delicious.
I texted back.
Me: Morning. ;) Just making breakfast.
Kent: You makin' me breakfast?
Me: Are you inviting yourself over for breakfast?
Kent: What if I was?
Me: I'd tell you I hardly know you to invite you over to meet my siblings, but that I'd be down to meet up later in the week.
A few minutes passed and he still hadn't responded. I wasn't sure if the dude was offended or what, but I definitely needed to stay with Coyote for a few days to make sure my psycho mom didn't come take her. Plus, I needed to focus on finding a job or I'd be screwed--not that I wasn't already screwed.
We enjoyed a nice breakfast, but it mainly consisted of Tyson being on his phone, Prissy planning out the following month's budget, and Coyote throwing the pancakes because they were "yucky." It was because of the bacon. She was sweet, but the little girl was picky as fuck, which always made being low on food even more stressful. She ended up having an orange for breakfast and we called it good.
"I'm gonna check the mail, Prissy. Keep an eye on Coyote, wo
uld ya?"
"I wanna come," Coyote screeched.
"Oh, fine." I wasn't even going to try and resist.
We strolled down the stairs and down a few apartments where I heard a crying baby. It was coming through a window from the apartment below us and five over. The window was wide open, so I couldn't help to see what was going on. I saw a man with a darker skin tone and a very structured jaw rocking a baby that was inconsolable. The baby was hardly bigger than a doll, it seemed. The baby had to have just been born. The man's eyes were closed and I heard a deep sniffle. You know, the kind that only happens when you've been crying.
"Why won't you just sleep, baby boy?" The father cried.
"Have you tried swaddling him?" I asked him through his window.
He jumped when I spoke. "Excuse me?"
I knew I shouldn't have been butting in, but I couldn't help it. The man looked stressed as hell.
"The baby. Have you tried swaddling him?"
"What's that?"
I tilted my head a bit. He's never heard of swaddling? "Yeah, babies that age love to be swaddled. It reminds them of being in the womb."
He scratched his head and stared at the baby.
"Do you want me to show you?"
"Please. I'm desperate." The man stood from the rocking chair with the fussy baby in his arms and unlocked the door. "Come in."
Coyote and I walked inside to an apartment that was both bare and cluttered at the same time. It was bare because there was nothing on the walls and the only pieces of furniture there was a love seat and his rocking chair. The rest of the room was filled with boxes, dirty dishes, and random shit.
"Here Coyote." I handed her my phone so she could play some stupid balloon game she downloaded on there. I normally wouldn't just shove a phone in her face, but I didn't need her being loud and causing more stress for the baby.
"That baby very loud." Coyote sat on the floor and started tapping away at the phone.
I grabbed a blanket that I saw on the loveseat and placed it into a diamond shape on the loveseat. "Okay, first you take the top corner and fold it down a little, like this." Place the baby on the blanket like this." I held my arms out and he handed me his baby. The baby's little mouth was frowning as he whimpered. "Awe, baby it's okay."
Coyote stood up and rushed over to the baby since I had him now.
"Baby is cute."
"Yes, he is. Can you go sit down, baby?" Luckily, she didn't put up a fight. "You see how I set him down to where his head is off the blanket?"
"Yeah." He bit his lip. I could tell he was anxious because the baby was crying and he wasn't holding him.
"That's because when you fold the blanket over, you don't want it folding over his face. Okay, so now you take one end and fold it over." I placed the baby's right arm down by its side and folded the blanket over him. "Make sure you put his arm down and fold it down so it's real snug. Then you fold the bottom corner up, like this. Then you fold this last corner over." I folded the last corner over, picked the baby up, and sat down in the chair. Within sixty seconds the baby was asleep.
"I'm fucking amazed." He put his hand over his mouth. "Excuse my language."
"I don't care if you cuss."
"I'm just--this is incredible. How'd you get him to sleep?"
"It's the swaddle."
"How? Why?"
"The baby grows inside the mom's stomach and is all tight and snug in there. When you wrap them up tight, it reminds them of the uterus and they feel safe and comfortable.
"Are you telling me that I could have avoided this last two weeks of hell just from swaddling?"
"Maybe."
"I can take him," he said, but I could tell he was enjoying the break.
"If you don't mind, I'll just rock him for a bit until he's ready for the crib."
"Works for me." He plopped down on his loveseat and sunk into the chair.
I held the baby with one arm and texted Tyson with the other. Hey, I'm downstairs visiting with the new neighbor. Be back soon.
"Your daughter's sweet." He took a deep breath like it was the first deep breath he'd taken all day.
"She's my sister, but thanks."
"Wow, there's a big age difference,” he remarked.
"Seventeen years."
"Damn. You must be like a mother to her."
"Ha. More than you know. So, did you just move here? I don't think I've ever seen you."
He yawned and stretched his arms up. "Yes. About a week ago. I'm Desmond, and that's Linus." he pointed to the baby.
"I'm Izzy. This is Coyote. I live upstairs and down a few."
"How long have you lived at this apartment complex?"
"About seven years, unfortunately."
"Uh oh," he said this with a half laugh.
"Don't get me wrong, it's not the worst place."
"There is a lot of... interesting people who stroll in and out of here."
"Druggies. You can say it." We both laughed. "So, where's Linus's mom? Work?"
Desmond sighed. "She's...not around."
"Did she die?"
"She may as well have."
"Drugs?"
"Yeah. And really just fucked up. I was back on leave and had a one night stand. Tried to make it work with her, but she's got too many problems. I won't bore you with the details."
"This baby is tiny. He must've just been born."
"He's a few months old. He's older than he looks. He was three months premature because of her fucked up choices, so believe it or not, he's actually four months old. He just got out of the NICU a few weeks ago."
"Oh my god, I'm sorry. But I'm glad he seems to be okay."
"Me too. It's been rough."
"Can I ask what you do for a living?"
"Nothing right now. Living off a trust fund from my grandpa. I've got enough to live off of for a year, but I start a new job soon." He took another deep breath. "Would I be the rudest person alive to ask you if I can take a shower super quick?"
"Go for it. I plan to rock this baby for a while longer anyway. I miss baby snuggles."
"Oh my God, thank you. I've not showered in three days."
He must've power showered because he was back in five minutes flat. I'm sure he probably wasn't super comfortable leaving a stranger alone with his baby for too long. I was surprised he did at all. He probably trusted me more because I had Coyote with me.
"I feel so much better. Thank you."
"I'm humry." Coyote cried.
"Sounds like it's time for lunch." I stood slowly. "Can I set Linus in here?" I stood by the crib.
"Absolutely."
I set the baby down as carefully as possible. He was out like a light.
"Let's go, Coyote." She handed my phone to me and grabbed my hand.
"Thanks so much--Izzy, right?"
"Yep." Funny that he let me hold his baby when he doesn't even know my name. I held back my laughter.
Before we could walk out the door, Desmond stopped me. "If you ever need anything, please let me know." He smiled, revealing his pearly white teeth which contracted against his deep brown skin.
"I will, and you do the same. We're in twenty three."
"You know where I live."
***
The next morning started with Coyote poking my nose and giggling. I sent her out in the living room with Prissy while I pryed myself out of bed.
I did what I did every morning before getting up--scrolled through social media. But I noticed four missed calls from ten minutes prior and wondered who the hell tried calling me from an Oregon phone number so many times, and why did I not wake up to it? My ringer’s off, I noticed. I redialed the number and waited for someone to answer.
“Hello?” The man on the other line answered.
“Hi, I have a few missed calls from this number.”
“Oh yeah, some girl borrowed my phone to call you.”
“Fuck.” It was Bailey. Her phone must be dead. “Are you still by her?”
&
nbsp; “Uh, no she’s a few streets down by the jail.”
“Any way you could go tell her to sit tight and that I'll be there soon?” I put the phone on speaker while I threw on a zip up hoodie and flats on, and crossed my fingers.
“I’m sorry, I’m walking into work.”
Damnit. “Thanks anyway. Have a good day.” I yelled into the speaker.
I walked out of my room to Tyson and his girlfriend practically on top of each other on the couch watching t.v.
"Tyson, don't forget what you're supposed to ask her." Ha! Now he has to ask her for money. I knew Tyson didn't want to ask her for money but seriously, the girl was at our house every single day. She always ate there, slept there, and bathed there. She was there five days per week, easily. I thought it was fair to ask her to give some up when we were struggling.
"Thanks." He rolled his eyes.
"What?" His girlfriend asked.
"I'll be back later," I told Prissy, who was in the kitchen cooking breakfast.
"Okay, I've got Coyote."
"Thanks, sister."
"Want me to save you a plate?" She asked while she tossed the pancake in the air and flipped it on its other side.
"Yes, please."
I rushed out the door, hoping I'd get to the jail in time before Bailey left. Although, I wasn't too worried because I figured since my house was much closer and she thought I had her van, she'd probably walk this way and I'd run into her.
"Bye, Kyle," I told the homeless dude who was always by our apartment.
"Bye Marla."
I lit a smoke and thought about Prissy watching Coyote for me as I walked down the street towards the crosswalk. I looked forward to whatever meal I'd be coming home to. She had a real talent in the kitchen. Both baking and cooking was something that just came naturally to her, and she loved to do it. She never said being a chef was something she wanted to be, but I think it's only because she was so practical and logical, and that she didn't view it as an acceptable career. But, you can really make a lot of money cooking if you do it right.
Either way, I appreciated her always cooking and showering us with delicious, homemade baked goods...when we had food at least. It was always the best at the beginning of the month when we got our food stamps because she'd cook us something scrumptious and fancy. Last month it was some Korean dish.