Why would someone like Rob be interested in someone like me? I had a job that was a lot of hard work that paid diddly squat. Overworked and underpaid was a spot-on description for any social worker anywhere. I moved every few years. I was on my fourth city since I got out of school. I had no roots and little contact with my family. I had a flaky, religious freak, ex-husband out there, and an even flakier family with whom I didn't get along.
I did have a fairly decent figure and kept relatively in shape. I had to work out to balance the stress of my job. That was a benefit of being alone. It didn't matter if I got up super early to run, or hit the gym at eight o'clock at night. I ate fairly well, except for tonight. Jeez, I can't believe I gorged on the burger like that. I probably looked like I was making love to it.
Despite all that, Rob had seemed interested in me, hadn't he? I mean, he initiated the kissing. Oh, and it was delicious, have no doubt. That man could certainly kiss. I have not had a make-out session like that in, oh, I don't even know how long. Frankly, I can't remember the last time I had even kissed a guy. And he hadn't been drinking, so it was not like it was a mutual drunken hook-up either. Even though it was great, I was glad I kicked him out before things got too hot and heavy. Sure, I was an adult and could do with my body what I wanted to, but I wasn't sure I wanted to. Oh, there was part of me that definitely wanted to, but you know what I mean. Ultimately, I knew I was looking for someone to spend my life with. I could wait for the good stuff for a little while longer, if he is the right one.
Plus, I had a lot of shit going on in my head right now.
I was really afraid I was going crazy. That thought made me get up and start pacing around my apartment. I wished it was bigger so I could pace more. Although I was generally familiar with mental illness, I pulled out an abnormal psych textbook from the bookshelf in my living room and curled up on the couch. I found the textbook to be a bit outdated and moved to a Google search at my computer desk.
I looked up hallucinations first. I went to the online encyclopedia, although I knew not all of the information could be trusted. I figured I had enough knowledge to weed out the crappy information. Auditory hallucinations, what I had experienced when I thought I heard Aster at the scene of the accident, were common in paranoid schizophrenia. Great. Just great. Luckily, there was a link to a support group for people who suffer from auditory hallucinations, but no other mental illnesses. Too bad that wasn't going to be me, since I had the visual hallucination as well. I book marked it, to be on the safe side.
The more I read on hallucinations, the more concerned I became. What if it wasn't mental illness? What if I had epilepsy or a brain tumor? There were a lot of medical reasons for hearing and seeing things that weren't there. That thought freaked me out even more. Could there be something going terribly wrong in my brain? How would I find out? Oh, crap. To find out, that would require extensive and invasive medical testing. Not to mention expensive.
I was still new to the job and had been out of work for the last three weeks. This last move had put a dent in my savings, meager as they were, and I needed a new car. I didn't have the extra financial resources to spend on medical bills, on top of the ones that I had already racked up in the accident.
The other possibility was the beginning of mental illness. Somehow, that didn't sit well with me. I mean, no one wants to have a mental illness which is why so many of those afflicted live in denial for years. Aster certainly did. My parents never admitted it either. They liked to refer to Aster as "free-spirited" or "sensitive." Sometimes they even went so far as to call her "temperamental." I think years of drug use had warped their brains. They honestly did not believe there was a problem. Often it takes a crisis or hitting rock bottom for a person to even realize they have a problem. I didn't want to be one of those people.
I Googled "bipolar disorder," which is what Aster had. I was relieved that this didn't really fit me. I didn't seem to have the periods of mania and depression. Certainly nothing that I considered manic behavior. Sometimes, I was sad, but nothing out of the ordinary. I could be lonely. I missed my family and missed my twin, even though having her in my life had brought nothing but heartache. I was a divorced woman, thirty-one years old, kind of a drifter and living in a town where I knew no one. I didn't think occasionally feeling a little down was abnormal.
Next, I searched "paranoid schizophrenia." I didn't think I fit the criteria for that either, but maybe I did? I didn't think I had disrupted thought processes or emotional disturbances. I was a tad scattered, maybe with a touch of attention deficit, but certainly not disrupted thoughts. Right? Maybe I couldn't see it in myself, just like Aster couldn't see it either. I would not live in denial while things spiraled out of control. I needed to get evaluated as soon as I could. If I was developing a mental illness, I would act proactively and responsibly. I would get into counseling and on medication if I needed it. I would face this and would treat my symptoms and do the best I could to remain as functional and productive as I could.
There were other mood disorders, but I was getting too bleary eyed to continue searching much longer.
I went into my bedroom and opened my bottom file cabinet drawer where I kept all my employment benefit information. There was an employee assistance program that I could avail myself of on Monday morning. Or as soon as I got settled back into work. Slightly relieved to have a plan of action, I tried to finally go to sleep.
But the sleep didn't come right away. Instead, I thought about the night I realized that something was really wrong with Aster. We were sixteen. She was in a cycle of not really sleeping. Part of the reason she couldn't sleep was that her mind would race. I used to sneak peeks at her journals. The shit she would scribble down during these times was unbelievable. It was closing in on five a.m. and she had been up all night. I had been tossing and turning, not unlike now, waiting for her to come back. She finally ran back into our room yelling, "There is a God! Es, you gotta believe me. I've got it all figured out and now I know, I believe—there is a God!" Her hair was wild. Her eyes were wild and detached. I knew, in that moment, that there was something terribly amiss with her. My heart shattered a bit in that moment because I knew our lives would never be the same, from that moment on.
Rolling over, I tried to block the memories from assaulting me, causing my mind to race like Aster's used to. Worn out from the stress, I finally drifted off.
It never even occurred to me that there was any other explanation for why I heard and saw Aster.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
"Hey, Charlie! Do you have a minute?" I knew I was grasping at straws calling my oldest sister, but I was hoping she would provide me with some comfort. I had the best relationship with her out of anyone in my family. It was not great, but I knew that she wouldn't hang up on me.
"Sure, Es. Any time. I just dropped Tristan off at basketball, and now I'm sitting in the car until he's done."
"You just sit there the whole time?"
"It gives me sixty minutes all by myself. I usually bring some work and do it. I get to listen to satellite radio and jam out all by myself. Sometimes, I look forward to it. But don't tell Dave. I like to make him feel guilty about all the running I have to do."
"You know I'm not going to tell anyone in the family."
"So, what's up?"
"Not much."
"C'mon Es. I know you. You don't call unless something's up."
"I guess I don't call a lot, do I?"
"No, but it's understandable. We all handle grief in our own way. You were more affected than any of the rest of us."
"I don't see that I was any more affected. She was everyone's sister."
"But you guys were different. Always together. Then the thing with Cheryl and Dean. It is understandable that you pulled away. I wish you hadn't, but I know why you felt you had to."
"See that's the thing. I know that I said I never wanted to speak of it again, but I, um, I need to talk about it."
Charlie laughed, a deep
throaty laugh. "I won't tell anyone that you needed to talk. It will be our little secret."
I laughed too, because there was no such thing as a secret in our family. Gossip spread through it like wild fire. Even the most guarded things came out eventually. I knew that Charlie wouldn't mean to tell anyone what I was about to tell her, but she would. She would tell Gus, who would tell Mike, who would tell Violet and Veruca. I didn't care that they would all find out eventually. I just needed to talk.
"Do you remember when Aster started having problems?"
"What do you mean?"
"You know, when she started showing signs of mental illness?"
"It's funny. Well, not funny really, but now that Tristan is fourteen, I've been thinking about that a lot. I've been worried for a long time that he would have it too. But now that he's a teenager, and doing all the typical teenager stuff, I realize how atypical Aster was for her whole life. It became glaringly obvious when she was about fifteen."
"Don't you think we all were a bit on the atypical side?"
"We were raised by unconventional parents in an unconventional household. But we were still normal kids. We did normal kid things. Aster did not do normal kid things."
"Sure she did." I didn't know why but, even after all this time, I still felt the need to defend her.
"Cutting yourself is not normal. Being a pathological liar is not normal. Sleeping with every guy who smiles at you is not normal. Doing drugs is not normal. Refusing to get out of bed for a month is not normal."
"But don't you think part of that was her looking for boundaries? For Cheryl and Dean to stop acting like our friends and start acting like our parents?"
"Yeah, if it was normal teenage stuff. Aster took it all to a whole other level. And that was before she added in the unpredictability and irrationality that drug use introduced."
"She really was pretty unstable, wasn't she?"
"Yes, she was. I don't know how none of us saw it. Well, none of us but you."
"And then I became the bad guy for calling her on it."
"Well, putting a name to it, at the very least."
"I never got why that made me the bad guy. To me, I was calling a spade a spade."
"You're not a parent yet—"
"Not that I know of, at least."
Charlie chuckled and carried on. "So it may be difficult for you to understand, but one of the hardest things about being a parent is accepting that your child is flawed. From the moment they take their first breath, you want to believe that he or she is perfect. And then, as they get older, you want to believe that you are doing the best job parenting them. We all know that Cheryl and Dean were not the best parents. They probably shouldn't have had kids, let alone seven of us. They were and are too interested in themselves and their relationship with each other to be there for us. For the six of us, we learned to lean on each other. We kind of parented ourselves. It's pretty surprising that the six of us turned out to be quasi-decent human beings. Aster highlighted all of their shortcomings. Even the best parents would have had trouble dealing with Aster. She out matched them from day one."
"So you don't see me as having the same type of issues that Aster had?"
"God no. You were always so analytical and practical. Pragmatic, but caring and compassionate. I have to say, you are totally in the right field."
"Um thanks, I guess."
"But the funny thing? If someone looked at a picture of you and Aster. A still, posed one, not a candid one because that would give everything away, but if you were just sitting there—only based on your appearances, I'm sure most people would assume that you were the wild, out-of-control child while Aster was the prim and proper rule follower."
"I know. It's always thrown people for a loop. They expected it of me, and I never acted out. They never expected it of her, and she consistently shocked the hell out of people. And while I never wanted to be her, sometimes I was so jealous of all the attention she got. Even if people seemed to like me or were interested in me, once they met Aster, they kind of forgot all about me."
"You were always in her shadow."
"Yeah, and most of the time I was fine with it, but sometimes I wished people could see the real her and the real me. But that's beside the point."
"So, then, what is the point? Why are you asking about Aster? What's up?"
"Okay, this is going to sound totally crazy, but wait and hear me out."
Charlie listened patiently as I explained the accident and then hearing Aster yell our phrase after. Then I told her about the band thing and seeing her there. I could not believe how out there it sounded. She was quiet for a few moments and I was almost afraid that we had been disconnected and that she hadn't heard anything.
"Charlie?"
"Yeah. I'm just thinking. I think the first time was the stress of the situation. I'm sure someone screamed. I think you heard Aster because your brain wanted it to. Haven't you ever been positive that a song lyric said one thing, and then been shocked to find out that the real lyric is not what you swore you heard?"
"Yeah. That makes sense. I was thinking about asking O.K., that doctor who helped me out at the scene, if he heard anything."
"I think that's a great idea. You should follow up on that."
"And seeing her in the bar?"
"I think you saw someone who favored or even resembled her, and she was so in your mind that you thought it was her."
"I guess that's plausible. It certainly seems like a better answer than a brain tumor or schizophrenia."
"Oh, Es, I don't think you are crazy, not at all. You are very stable and level headed. I don't see any of the things in you that I saw in Aster."
I sighed in relief. "That's what I needed to hear. With you being twelve years older than us, I figured you'd have the best perspective and memory on the situation."
"Don't forget, I practically raised the two of you."
"Yes, you did, and I still need you." I couldn't help my voice from breaking as the tears started to flow.
"I know, honey. You've not only lost your other half, but you lost the rest of your family as well. I can't even imagine how hard it must be for you."
"You know, sometimes, when I allow myself to think about it, which isn't often, I get so mad at Aster. Not only did she take her life, but she took mine as well. I'm still here trying to pick up the pieces."
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
"So, I hear you're quite the singer."
"Rumors of my talent have been greatly exaggerated. Besides, you shouldn't believe everything you hear."
O.K. laughed. "No, I guess not, but I think I need to judge this one for myself."
"Well, in two weeks, I'm making my official debut with the Rusty Buckets."
"The Rusty Buckets?"
"I know, it's a bad name, but they, I mean we, are working on it. We've been practicing already. It's pretty amazing. Albert, the other singer, and me really hit it off. We just mesh so well. It's kind of freaky. But I'm sure you didn't take time out of your busy working doctor schedule to hear about my bar band career. What's up?"
"Um, actually I did call to ask you about that. I thought it was really cool, and a bit on the surprising side, too."
"Why would it be surprising?"
"I don't know, maybe, I, um ..." he trailed off, at a loss for words.
"Maybe because I can barely walk without falling over myself, so getting up in front of a crowd would not seem like a smart thing to do?"
"No, yes, I just thought you, oh, I don't know."
"Are you actually tongue tied, O.K.?"
There was a silence on the other end of the phone. Perhaps I should not have taunted him. When would I learn to keep my big mouth shut?
"Um, I still owe you that cup of coffee that we started and never finished. Although, you ordered tea. Green tea, if I'm not mistaken."
"You mean the cup of coffee and the ride home that you promised, but left me high and dry because of Melissa." I could not help the word
'Melissa' from coming out of my mouth like something had left a bad taste in it.
"Yeah, and in addition to a cup of coffee and a ride, I owe you an apology."
"I don't know, O.K. There seems to be more here going on than I am privy to, and I don't want to be caught in the middle."
"What do you mean?"
"Weren't Rob and Melissa engaged?"
"They were. They broke up about a year ago."
"Right. And you desert me for Melissa and shuffle me off to Rob. I go out with him, and now you're asking me out? I mean, you are asking me out this time, right?"
"Yeah, I was. I mean, am. Rob said that you guys went out once."
"So he told you about our date?"
"A little. He told me about the singing, and that the band offered you a gig."
Hmmm ... interesting. Do men gossip like women do? Even as estranged from my family as I was, both Charlie and Veruca wanted the dirt from my date with Rob. I was surprised that they both called me after. In all honesty, I missed the close camaraderie that I once had with my sisters. With the five of us, there were alliances from time to time and divisions based on age. Charlie was twelve years older than Aster and I. Growing up, Charlie and Violet, who are only eleven months apart, were always together, just due to their close proximity. Veruca was sort of stuck in the middle, surrounded by the boys. She aligned herself with whomever had the best deal. Until Aster started acting out, and then disappeared. All the relationships shifted and became skewed, and I found myself on the outs with everyone.
"Esther? Are you still there?"
"Oh, sorry, I got distracted."
I'm Still Here Page 7