by C. S. Lakin
This was not how he’d expected to encounter God, not in this place or at this time, but he knew it was the perfect time, that everything in his life had led him to this one moment of realization. That profound truth rattled him to his core.
Numbed and shaky, Jake drew in a long breath, a breath that felt new, the first breath he’d ever breathed, and he walked toward the house and back into his life, the life God had laid out before him to live.
1988
Never Die Young
We were ring-around-the-rosy children
They were circles around the sun
Never give up, never slow down
Never grow old, never ever die young
Oh, hold them up, hold them up
Never do let them fall
Prey to the dust and the rust and the ruin
That names us and claims us and shames us all
I guess it had to happen someday soon
Wasn’t nothing to hold them down
They would rise from among us like a big balloon
Take the sky, forsake the ground
Oh, yes, other hearts were broken
Yeah, other dreams ran dry
But our golden ones sail on, sail on
To another land beneath another sky
—James Taylor
Levi heard a door slam, then Simon’s voice erupt. He shook his head as he sat on the back steps this early spring morning, minding his own business, soaking up the weak rays of sun, the cold concrete hard and unpleasant to sit on, but he just had to get out of the house, even if only a few feet away. It was a good thing his dad was at work, covering a Saturday shift for someone. He knew his dad would go ballistic if he heard the two of them screaming like that—Simon and his mom with her bulging belly, who was supposed to be staying in bed, but did she listen to the doctors? Levi knew she had some kind of medical problem, that any little bit of stress could be bad for her, but, hey, this was all her fault. He didn’t feel any pity for her, and frankly, he was just as sick of her prying and needling them as Simon was.
It was unbelievable—the way she had stormed into their room, Levi appalled she didn’t even knock. Simon told him she did it all the time, but Levi hadn’t known, had just moved back in with Simon only last month. How could she disrespect privacy like that? But Simon said ever since she’d found drugs in their room she thought it gave her the right to barge in, any time, no notice. Like they couldn’t think of other places to hide the weed and pills. There were a million places in the garage, the yard. Did she think they were stupid? Well, maybe they had been stupid, smoking a J, thinking the breeze through the wide-open window would air out the smell, thinking she and their dad had already gone to bed hours ago, so how did they know she’d get up after midnight and do an unannounced search?
Levi chuckled, thinking how Simon tried to swallow the roach, how it stuck in his throat, hot, made him spit the thing out almost in his mom’s face. And he hadn’t meant to laugh, but the whole thing was just too comic, with smoke coming out of Simon’s mouth and his red wasted eyes nearly popping out of his head. And then Simon, infected by Levi’s laughter, doubling over, laughing so hard tears ran down his face and the only thing that could get him to stop his hysteria was Rachel slapping him hard across the face—although it only stunned Simon for a few seconds before he cracked up again, and Levi couldn’t help but join in.
His mom had then just stood there and glared at them, put a hand over her humongous belly, shook her head, left the room. After she closed the door, he and Simon had burst out again, practically rolling on the floor.
So Levi wasn’t a bit surprised this morning when his mom confronted Simon in the kitchen, cornering him as he downed a quick breakfast, and Simon hoping to jet out before she awoke. Levi guessed they should have hauled their butts out of bed earlier. He had been coming out the bathroom when he heard her voice, so before she could throw a look in his direction, Levi had scooted out the back door. Levi knew at some point she would give in or give up; she was no match for his brother, and then they could get on with their day.
Suddenly, Simon let out a string of nasty curses and Levi cringed. He’d never heard Simon do that, and wondered what had brought it on. He didn’t have long to wait to find out.
Simon stormed out the back door, swinging the screen door so hard it slammed against the house in a loud smack. Levi turned and saw Simon plant his legs in the doorway, facing the kitchen. His voice boomed so loud, Levi imagined the neighbors on both sides could hear him.
“I hate you! And I hope you drop dead!”
Before Levi could form words into a question, Simon strode over to him, pulled him up by his shirt. “Let’s get out of here.”
Levi nodded, hurried to keep up with Simon as his brother led them out the back gate, into the alley, where Simon, his hands shaking, fumbled in his shirt pocket for his smokes, pulled one out and stuck it in his mouth, then found his lighter, lit the cigarette and sucked hard, staring down the alley, kicking his feet at the loose gravel.
Levi said nothing, knew better than to barely even breathe. Simon, without looking at him, offered him the pack and Levi took a Camel out, joined his brother in silence, the smoke mingling with the frosty air in the chill shadow of the alleyway.
“Now what?” Levi asked.
Simon snorted. “We wait.” He looked at Levi. “She’s taking Dinah to her dance class in fifteen minutes.”
“And then what?”
Simon gritted his teeth, shook his head in a slow, deliberate motion. “I’m gonna make her pay.”
Levi was afraid to ask. What could their mom have done to get him this worked up? Simon always brushed off her punishments like they were nothing but tiny gnats buzzing his head. And if she grounded him again, he’d just sneak out, always did. But Levi didn’t have to ask, because Simon turned and threw the answer in his face.
“She took my guitar. Said she was going to sell it.” Simon’s eyes burned; the pupils looked like fiery coals. “I rushed back to the room to grab it, but she’d already taken it, gave it to dad to take with him to work, before I woke up. I never even heard her sneak into the room.”
Levi thought for a moment. “So let’s ride over to Builder’s, go get it out of his truck.”
“Yeah, that’s my plan. But not until we do some damage.”
Levi understood. His own anger simmered, thinking of Rachel sneaking in and taking Simon’s precious guitar. She had no right to do that, to touch their stuff, to take their stuff, to barge in and violate their space like that. So what if she was their mother? You just didn’t do things like that. And what would she take next? Levi thought about all his sketchbooks, the painstaking hours he’d spent on his illustrations, how they were irreplaceable, not like a guitar. If she took those from him, he would get just as furious as Simon. He would have to think of a safe place to put them, now that he knew she had no qualms about marching in and taking their things. The thought made his gut cinch up, made him want to lash out, the way he knew Simon felt right then, his fists clenched, itching to find a release for the anger before it imploded.
Simon’s head swung toward the gate; he tapped Levi on the shoulder. “She’s leaving.”
They stood there a minute, listening, the sound of her car backing out the driveway, then moving down the street. They caught a glimpse of it at the end of the alley as she drove by, and Simon’s eyes narrowed, ignited.
Levi followed Simon back through the gate toward the house. Then he stopped at the lattice archway leading into their mom’s garden. Levi’s jaw dropped as Simon reached up and grabbed the sides of the arch and with a grunt and a sharp yank broke it down the center. Simon’s arms worked, pulling at the tightly nailed pieces of wood, the sheets of lattice and the one-bys that Levi recalled watching his dad lovingly erect so many years ago, now so tightly enmeshed with vines threading through the spaces that Simon had to rip and shred the plant that looked like a tangled mess of hair, that stubbornly refused to rip, but th
e challenge only fueled Simon’s anger more, made him lash out with all his strength. In minutes Simon had the whole arch down and in pieces on the brick.
“Come on,” he said to Levi, marching into the enclosed garden, his mom’s precious space where the plants erupted in a jungle of colors and flowers hung from the overhead beams and clustered together in the beds Levi had often helped her weed. He pushed out of his mind all the many hours he had spent there, watching her, her eyes filled with joy and the satisfaction of working in the dirt, making things grow. He cringed as Simon stomped on her flowers, reached down and ripped them from the earth, tore them into tiny pieces that he flung in the air and that fell like confetti to the trampled ground. But he knew it had to be done. Nothing would send a stronger message than this: if you touch what is precious to us, we’ll touch what is precious to you. Like some unspoken rule of fairness, it had to be enacted. Their mother had to be stopped before she totally destroyed their lives. Although, he wished there were another way. But Simon was right. How dare she take his guitar? Simon said she planned to sell it, or maybe she’d even give it away, and it wasn’t even hers. She hadn’t saved for months to buy it. Levi knew what Simon had gone through to get it, how much his guitar meant to him. It was his soul, the thing that defined him, just like my drawings define me, he thought.
Levi let himself get swept up in Simon’s fury, let the anger loose to run freely through his veins, reminding himself how selfish his mother was, having another baby, like they needed one more mouth in the family, more work for their dad, more crying and diapers and who knew how much attention they would lavish on this next child? Now his parents would have one more beautiful, perfect child to spoil, like the family they had wasn’t good enough and they had to start a whole new brood of better kids, ones that wouldn’t argue or disagree, ones that would be obedient and smile all the time and do everything their mother asked them to do.
Levi lashed out, tore at a large shrub with his hands, and with each piece he ripped off, he let his hurt spill out until tears ran down his face. Obviously, his parents didn’t think he was good enough, not perfect enough, not like Joey, who didn’t stutter or have asthma or who reminded his dad in any way of Leah. His dad didn’t even bother to try to hide how he felt, the way he never really loved them, any of them, and all of it Rachel’s fault, getting pregnant with Joey the minute they got married, showing him he could make better kids, more worthy of his love and attention.
Levi set his body on autopilot as he tore through the garden alongside Simon, both of them moving in silent efficiency, Levi letting his mind propel him along, thinking how Joey had touched his dad’s leg and healed it, God giving Joey some miraculous gift but did God give any of the rest of them some special gift? Was it because their mom was so religious that he blessed her with such a special child?
Levi remembered hearing his parents talk with Abby one morning. His mom saying how God has blessed her with Joey, had answered her prayers for a child with a divine calling. Well, no one had ever prayed over Levi Abrams, had they? No one had wanted him. Not his mom—who had taken so may drugs and drank so much booze that Levi had been born sick, with all his problems. And not his dad—who hadn’t wanted him in the first place, hadn’t wanted any of his kids. Except Joey, of course. That one he’d wanted, and from the second Joey had been born, his dad couldn’t take his eyes off him. Joey walked into a room, all of them in there and his dad paying no attention, and just his presence would make his dad perk up, stop whatever he was doing, hang onto every word out of Joey’s mouth. And why? Because Rachel had convinced their dad that God had sent Joey to them. Levi grunted. And now there’d be another Joey.
Levi swore under his breath, took down all the tools hanging on the fence, threw them in a heap. Simon reached up and pulled on one corner of the fence; Levi pulled on the other. They brought down the entire length of the fence in one attempt, then made for the next section, the garden enclosure now exposed to the rest of the yard, no longer a hidden sanctuary but just a pile of dirt and trash and ruin. The only thing they hadn’t touched was the concrete fountain in the center, still spewing water quietly as if unaware of all the destruction going on around it, blind deaf and dumb, like justice.
Simon left, came back a minute later with a sledgehammer, then took aim and pieces of chipped concrete flew into the air around him. Levi ducked, backed away, listening to the noise and wondering if Reuben was sleeping through it all, the way his older brother seemed to sleep through everything.
Levi looked around at the mess. They would get hell for this. He couldn’t even fathom the kind of trouble they were now in, what their dad would do to them. Like it mattered. His dad couldn’t do any worse to them than he’d already done—treating them the way he did, worshipping Joey and ignoring all the rest of them. Their mom would be devastated, so horrified she probably wouldn’t even know what to say or do. Well, she deserved it. Maybe now she’d leave them alone, stay out of their stuff.
Levi snorted, watched Simon attack the last bit of the pedestal, which he broke with one loud thwack, shattering the base. Simon set down the sledgehammer, turned to Levi, wiped his hands on his jeans. Steam snorted out his nostrils as his breath slowed, back to an even measure.
“Now let’s go get my guitar.”
Levi nodded, and without a backward glance at the havoc they’d wreaked, made for the garage to get his bike.
Joey followed his mother through the kitchen as she headed toward the back door. Reuben sat eating a sandwich and Joey smiled at his big brother. But Reuben only frowned back.
“Hey, Mom. What are you doing? I thought you had to stay in bed. That’s why Dad asked me to stay home—to take care of you. To make you lunch and keep you from moving around too much.”
Joey stopped, waited to hear her answer.
“Thanks for your concern, Rube. But I’ll be okay. I just . . . just need to do something. I can’t stand the thought of lying there, looking out the window at that—”
Joey looked into his mother’s eyes when he heard her throat make that funny sound. She put her hand on his head and he sensed it again—that bad feeling. Like he could feel it coming through her fingers into his scalp. He didn’t like the sensation; it made his stomach hurt.
He looked back over at Reuben. His brother nodded. “I know. But there will be plenty of time later, after the baby. You can start all over again.”
“I just want to organize a few things. I won’t exert myself too much. Besides, it’s too nice a day to be stuck in the house. I feel like I’ve been in bed for months.”
“Well, I’ll be in here, studying for finals. Just give a yell if you need me.”
“Okay. And thanks for your card and the pretty flowers.” She looked over at the vase in the living room.
“Happy Mother’s Day, Mom.”
Their mother smiled, but Joey thought she still looked sad. She then headed out the door and stopped when she got to the bottom of the steps. Joey stood beside her, and another bad feeling tingled in his stomach.
“Mommy, maybe you should go back to bed.”
“Nonsense.” She blew out a sigh, then smoothed her hair. “Let’s just sit in the sun for a while, okay?”
His mother walked over to one of the chairs and sat. Joey knelt on the grass at her feet. She looked down at him. “You seem to be following me around a lot today. Are you okay?”
Joey nodded, didn’t know what to say.
“What about Ben? Is he all right?” she whispered. Joey didn’t understand why she suddenly got so quiet.
Joey hesitated, afraid that feeling would come back. He wished God would talk to him, tell him why he had these bad feelings, but even though he was listening hard, he heard nothing but a few birds cheeping in the trees and someone mowing a lawn.
He put his hand on his mother’s belly and closed his eyes. His baby brother was so big now, and Joey could feel the rapid beating of his heart underneath his palm. His mom had said only a few more weeks a
nd Ben would be born. He wished he’d never told her something was wrong with Ben, back last fall. But he had to tell her; God told him to. Maybe God just wanted his mother to be careful and rest, but after he told her, she didn’t rest, not enough, and everyone was supposed to be quiet and not get her upset , but Simon and Levi always got her upset. And then they ruined her garden.
Joey felt so sad. He didn’t understand at all why they did that. They knew how much she loved her garden. Why would anyone hurt someone on purpose like that? How could they tear up all her pretty flowers, and break the fence Daddy had built? Joey tried hard to figure it out, but he just couldn’t. Of course, he knew what the Bible said. That everyone sinned, and that sometimes you can’t help it, and you do something you shouldn’t. But that’s why God gave us his spirit, put it in our hearts. To help us so we didn’t do bad things. Joey knew Simon and Levi didn’t listen to God’s spirit. The spirit spoke in a tiny voice; you had to be very quiet and listen to hear it. His brothers were so loud and talkative all the time, no wonder they couldn’t hear that voice.
“Well?” his mother asked. She asked him all the time about Ben, asked him just what was wrong with him, but Joey couldn’t say. He guessed that once Ben was born they’d know.
“Joey, you told me that God had a plan—a plan to save his life, remember?”
Joey nodded.
“Can’t you . . . ask God what that is? Maybe there is something I’m supposed to do. If I knew what the problem was, I could be ready to fix it—”
“Mommy, I don’t know.”
“Okay.” She got quiet again, then got up from her chair. Joey noticed her frown.
“What are you doing?”
“I can’t look at this any longer. I know your dad said he would rebuild the fence this weekend, but . . .”
Joey followed his mother over to what was left of her pretty fountain—just an ugly gray block of concrete. Joey had hidden in his room, put the pillow over his head, when his father had yelled at Simon and Levi, with his mother crying in her bedroom, and it broke his heart to listen to it, to all of it. His father had made Simon and Levi spend a whole day cleaning up the mess, his brothers filling the wheelbarrow with broken wood and torn-up plants and chunks of concrete and emptying it all into the trashcans, his mother’s beautiful garden turned into a garbage dump.