by Shay Lynam
I had almost forgotten about him when while I was out one day trying to figure out how I was going to afford rent for the month, who else would I expect to run into but Paul himself. We immediately got to talking, he telling me how great things were going with classes and how a couple of our buddies were talking about continuing on to get their Masters and I told him about how “great” things were going and how I was about to continue on to live on the street in a box when he mentioned that he was graduating later that month and was thinking about moving back to the city. Paul really is a great guy. A great guy.
I'm not sure how, but I ended up at Pike's Cemetery. No one was there which surprised me since it was a Saturday and people are always there on Saturday. Usually bringing flowers to their loved ones' graves or just walking among the headstones. I guess I understood that. This was a place of peace. A place of rest. I wandered for a while before stopping at my mother's headstone. Under her name it said Loving mother, daughter and friend. The first words made me chuckle. Obviously someone had chosen a generic epitaph. If only they knew.
It seemed like whenever I did see my mom, which had only been a few times over the past several years, she always felt the need to point out that I was a failure. Just like my dead beat, absent father.
I remember her telling me when I was a kid, “Don't worry, Tyler. As long as you do as I say, as long as you follow the path I have put you on, everything is going to be okay.” I remember her saying this to me as she sat at her vanity, looking in her mirror and making sure every hair was in place, every wrinkle was smoothed out of her expensive suit and every line on her face was masked completely. She always looked so flawless. And when she told me to do all of this, because she cared about me so much, she couldn't even take her eyes off herself. She couldn't look past her shoulder for one second at the little boy sitting behind her on her perfectly made bed, wishing he had a father. Wishing his mom actually did care about her son instead of her image and the way people looked at her. After all, she would have been nothing if not an amazing mom with an amazing son.
“Looks like you raised a disappointment, Mom,” I whispered, kicking a loose clump of dirt with my shoe. “Looks like I didn't turn out the way you wanted after all.”
I could see my mom finally making eye contact with me through her mirror. Her eyes dark and piercing. Her lips curled up into a closed-lip smile. “You can still change all that, Tyler.”
“Maybe I don't want to change,” I said, my little kid voice catching me off guard. “Maybe I'm glad I didn't turn out the way you wanted me to.” My mom's face stayed unchanged. Like it was painted on along with her makeup. “Still love me?” I asked.
Finally, someone pushed the play button again and she went back to touching up her face, her eyes fixated on her reflection once again. “Don't be silly, Tyler. Of course I still love you.”
“Do you?”
Again her eyes flicked to mine. She paused again for a moment. “Yes.”
I couldn't help but roll my eyes. “That sounded very cold, Mother. Love is supposed to be warm. I'm pretty sure you're made of ice.”
Her smile returned. “No one can truly explain a mother's love for her child.”
“I can explain yours,” I said standing up. “It's as fake and forced as the red smile on your face, right now.” I started walking toward her, keeping my eyes fixed on hers. “You toss that word around but you have no idea what it means.” By now I was standing behind her.
My mother whirled around to face me and grabbed both my arms hard. “Listen here,” she spat. “I have given you everything. Everything! A big house in the best part of town, an education to the best private school on the East Coast and a college fund so huge, Harvard will be on their knees begging for you to go there. What more could you ask for.” She was so close to me now that I could see the tiny red veins in her eyes. I could see now just how black her pupils really were. This was the closest I had ever been to her and now I could really say that those eyes of hers were as hollow and unfeeling as that black, dead thing in her chest she called a heart.
Finally I opened my mouth and feeling nothing but sadness, said, “A mother that actually gives a crap.”
My toe connected with the headstone hard sending a shooting pain up through my foot and into my shin. I cried out in pain. “Witch!” People around me stopped walking or talking and stared as I hopped around on one foot. I gritted my teeth against the pain. “Just having a little family tiff,” I said as calmly as possible. “Nothing to see here.”
With no chance of the pain easing quickly, I sat down on the ground and put my head on my knees, hoping it would begin to fade a bit soon.
“Oh Tyler,” my mom chuckled. “Of course I give a crap. I want to make sure everyone knows what a great little family you and I are. I work hard to keep up appearances. Don't you know that?”
“Yeah,” I muttered. “You work so hard at keeping up appearances then pay no attention when no one is looking.”
“What do you want me to do? Quit so we can live on the streets and be the close, loving little family you think we should be? I work so you can have the things you want.”
“Whoever said I wanted any of those things?” I asked, my little voice raising again.
“You're a child. Children want toys and food and a house.”
“Kids want their parents.”
“Well, I can't be both.”
“You apparently can't be either!”
Only when I looked up and saw that I had an audience, did I realize I had been talking out loud. One child stood on the opposite side of the fence, his mom sitting on a bench waiting for the bus.
“Are you talking to yourself?” he asked me.
I got up quickly, brushing myself off in the process. “I was until you interrupted me.”
The kid immediately turned back around and went to join his mom on the bench. He didn't turn back around. I looked back at my mom's grave stone.
“Good talk, Ma,” I muttered and walked away not looking back.
I continued on out of the cemetery waving away the man that stood at the entrance trying to sell bouquets of wilted flowers from a little cart.
“Flowers for your loved one, sir?” he asked me. I couldn't tell if the sad tone in his voice was genuine or just a good marketing strategy meant to make him sound sympathetic.
I shook my head. “No loved ones here.”
chapter three.
Time square was always an interesting sight to see. So many people, all in a hurry. All rushing as if their lives depended on it. Everyone worried about the next move. Nobody gave a crap about what happened ‘once upon a time’. In fact, there's still no one that cares. We see it every day, in school, at work, at home…
I spent the rest of the day wandering around aimlessly. My foot hurt like an SOB but I guess it was my own fault for trying to split that headstone in half. Even dead my mom could make me a crazy person.
When I finally got home, Paul was nowhere to be found. He usually liked to spend his weekends hanging out with this girl he had been seeing for a while. See, now this was a guy that knew what he was doing. He had focus. He had ambitions. Maybe I shouldn't have been so mad at him when I had left that morning. After all, he was a great friend.
I pulled a notepad out of a drawer and found a pen. Sorry about earlier, I wrote. Beers on me tonight.
I stuck it on the fridge with a magnet and headed up to my room. My laptop sat on my desk, IM screen already up as if it knew and was waiting for me.
Tyler says: Hey.
“Hey Tyler, you here?” Paul called from downstairs.
“I'm up here,” I called back, my eyes staying glued to the screen.
I heard Paul's footsteps on the stairs and I minimized the IM chat. Not sure why since he already knew I was talking to this girl. He popped his head into my room a couple seconds later.
“Think I could cash in for that beer now?”
I hesitated for a second. I really wanted t
o talk to Emily but after our argument earlier what would Paul think of me ditching my best friend to talk to a girl over the internet.
“Sure, give me a second.”
With a nod, he disappeared back downstairs. I pulled the chat back up, seeing she hadn't responded yet.
Tyler says: I'll be back soon. Talk later.
I took Paul to a different bar close to our apartment this time. I really didn't want to risk running into Andy as I knew Mike's was a hang out of his on the weekends. Once our drinks had come, the two of us sat at a booth. These times were very different from after work drinks at Mike's. Paul was a guy I respected. It would feel weird to try and scope out girls while I was with him.
“So I went to the cemetery today,” I finally said, taking a drink.
Paul looked at me. “To see your mom?”
“Yeah.”
“That's good, man.”
“I guess. I think I broke a couple toes though,” I winced as a pang shot up my leg.
Paul chuckled. “How do you go to a cemetery and leave with a broken foot?”
“I may have had a disagreement with my mother.”
“Well, it sounds like you came out on top.”
I shook my head. “I see what you did there.”
“So, I have a reason for cashing in my beer already.” Paul said, his voice now sounding serious. I looked back at him. “Meg and I are getting married.”
“Meg. Meg, the girl you've been seeing for the past year, Meg?” I asked.
“Yeah, that's the one.”
It took me a second to process. “Wow, congrats, dude.” I finally said gulping down the last of my beer. “When's the big day?”
Paul smiled. “Don't know yet.”
“Cool, just let me know.” I flagged down the waitress. “Can I get another one of these, or two?” I turned back to Paul. “Can you give me a guesstimate? Two years? Five years? Ten?”
“We've only talked about it a little,” my friend said to me. “But we were thinking more like a year.”
“A year?”
Paul nodded.
“You're not wasting any time are you?” The waitress set a pitcher of beer down in front of me and I refilled my glass, throwing it back.
“Are you okay?”
I set my glass back down on the table. “Yeah,” I finally muttered. “I just thought I had more time.”
“More time for what?”
I shook my head. “More time to... figure out what I'm doing, I guess.”
“Are things okay with work and everything?” Paul asked me, his voice growing more concerned.
“Nah, it's okay. I'll be fine,” I replied. “I'm going outside for a minute.”
I got up, digging into my coat pocket for my pack of cigarettes. Being so close to the end of the year, it was already completely dark outside even though it was only around 6. The ground was icy and I could see my breath even before I lit the cigarette and blew out a trail of smoke. The way it slithered out of my mouth reminded me of an evil genie rising up out of a lamp.
“You have three wishes,” the genie told me. “You can't wish for someone to fall in love with you, to bring someone back from the dead or for more wishes.”
“Darn, I wanted to wish for a million wishes and then use each one to wish for a million more. Guess I'm going to need more time to think on it.”
The genie folded its smoky arms. “Seriously, what do you want, kid?” it asked impatiently.
“World peace.” I finally said. “No, a hot fudge sundae. Ooh how about one of those human-sized plastic hamster balls.”
“You're a joke,” the genie finally said before evaporating into the darkness.
I leaned back against the wall of the bar looking to my left to see a couple guys staring at me. “You talking to yourself over there?” one of them finally asked.
“Yeah,” I muttered putting the cigarette up to my mouth and inhaling. “I guess I'm on a roll today.”
The two walked back inside leaving me alone. I put my head back against the building. The moon was huge and full. If I listened just right, I was sure I could hear the howls of werewolves a few streets down, heading this way to tear me limb from limb before disappearing into the night. Maybe they would do it quick. Maybe no one would miss me. The only people, I guess, that would notice I was gone would probably be Paul, because I feel that for reasons I can't comprehend, he actually values me as a friend, maybe Emily, if I wasn't just one of the many people she talked to every day, and Andy, only because I funded his Friday night drinking habit. I hadn't even noticed the door open and I was no longer alone.
“Tyler?” I turned to find Paul standing beside me, his hands in his pockets, shoulders slumped as he braced against the cold. “You alright?”
“Yeah,” I answered. “I'm good. Just wanted to come out for a smoke.” I offered him one, already knowing he wouldn't want it. He declined.
“It just seemed like you were suddenly in a hurry to leave when I brought up Meg. I just want to make sure you're okay with all this.”
“Does it matter?” I asked. “I mean, I don't really mean that the way it sounds but- I just don't want to stand in your way, ya know?”
“Of course it matters, Tyler,” Paul replied leaning back against the building next to me. “You're my best friend. Your opinion matters a lot more to me than anyone else's does.”
“Thanks, man,” I said quietly. “But really, I'm happy for you. I mean, I've only met Meg once but you have a level head so I trust your judgment”
“That means a lot,” Paul said. “I'm glad you like her. So then what's bothering you?”
I turned so I was facing the building. “To tell you the truth, I guess I lean on you a bit more than I should.” I replied kicking at the wall with my good foot.
“How do you mean?”
I took one last drag from my cigarette before dropping it on the ground, grinding it into the gravel with my toe. A wimpy trail of smoke slithered up from the ashy remains. “Well, it's no secret that my job isn't going super well. I guess I'm just worried that if you leave... I don't know. I just don't want to end up on the streets, ya know?”
“I know.”
“And I mean, I don't want to put all this pressure on you and I know that's what I'm doing but, I don't mean to.”
“I know.” Both of us were silent for a good five minutes before Paul finally opened his mouth again. “Tyler?”
“Yeah?”
“What about the money your mom left you?” A noise somewhere between a chuckle and a scoff escaped my throat. “I mean, I know you hated her and I know she didn't really like you all that much but, you know, you could keep living at our place and live comfortably or even take her place and live in luxury. I mean, what better way to get back at her than to be happy and live well?”
"I could eat a bowl of alphabet soup and crap a better argument than that," I muttered.
“Ty-”
“No,” I interrupted. “I don't want her money. She tried to keep me dependent on her and her money all the way up till I finally left and paid my own way through college. I'm not about to go back to that.”
“She's dead, Tyler. She can't control you anymore,” Paul said.
“Yes she can!”
Paul's mouth hung open like the words he had been about to say were just shoved back in. I shook my head and leaned back against the building. “Look,” I said trying to stay calm. “As soon as that money comes around - that stupid money - I will feel like no matter how I spend it, my mom will have her hands in my life again. She always had to have her fingers in everything, you know. Fingering through my life... my relationships, my education. She always had to control everything.” I said, my hands tightening into fists. “And when I left, I knew nothing would change for her. She would go to work just like she did every day. She would have that perfect smile on her face like her son had not just gone against her wishes and left for community college. I bet her employees didn't even know she had a so
n. No one knew me. I was no one!” I took another deep breath. “Sorry... sorry.”
“I know,” Paul said finally reaching for a cigarette. I held the carton out to him and then took one for myself.
“And then she got sick,” I continued after lighting both our cigarettes. “I feel like the universe was finally saying 'you've dealt with enough of her crap. It's time you got your break.' ya know?” Paul nodded taking a long drag before letting it all out. “I can't take the money, Paul.” I shook my head. “I can't let her back in. Not so soon after I gained some freedom.”
“So what are you going to do?” he finally asked me.
It took me a while to respond. I watched the glowing end of my cigarette devour the rest of it, until all the was left was a small nub which was starting to burn my yellowed fingers. Finally, I let out a sigh full of smoke and unease. “I don't know.”
When the two of us got home, I went upstairs to my room without a word. It was almost one o' clock in the morning so I was hoping, with Portland being three hours behind, that Emily was still up and wanting to talk. I had a lot on my mind and I didn't feel like I could unleash even more on Paul after everything I had already put him through at the bar. When I got to my computer, I found it odd that the minimized IM bar wasn't flashing with Emily's response. Just to be sure, I clicked on it, bringing it up to full screen.
Tyler says: Hey
Tyler says: I'll be back soon. Talk later.
There was nothing below that. My stomach sank. She hadn't replied. Maybe she was busy studying all evening and couldn't talk. Or maybe she was out with some guy.