by A. J. Downey
Maren: Okay, thank you again.
Me: Ur welcome.
I lay awake, hands behind my head, staring at the ceiling of my room and the shadows bouncing across them. There was a naked tree out back of the building, and sometimes, when the moon shone just right, the shadow would be cast across my ceiling from the high window over my bed. When I couldn’t sleep, I’d just lay here and count the spaces, or if there was wind or a breeze, like tonight, I’d watch the shadows dance.
I kept playing the text message exchange in my head, and let the wheels do a slow grind. She was a sad girl, wearing her grief with some serious grace. That made her stronger than she knew. She was beautiful, but I wasn’t thinking with my dick. Not at seventeen to my thirty-six. That just wouldn’t be fair to her, so I shelved any notion of anything beyond just friendship and a helping hand right the fuck now.
It was so late that it was early, which made it Christmas Eve. Poor kids, spending their first Christmas as orphans. I was too young to remember my first Christmas without parents, so it’d always been the norm for me. If I had anything resembling real parents, it was Grind and Arch. Shit, if I had to be honest, Arch was the only really responsible one.
I smirked into the dark. I guess that made Archer the ‘mom’ out of the four of us, because even though the cold bastard hadn’t exactly been nurturing growing up, he had been the one to keep us in line, and not with the beatings that Norma Rae and Duncan were used to handing out.
I felt my smirk slide right off my face at the thought of our foster parents. They’d taken on the four of us boys because Norma Rae had known Duncan had a thing for little girls just budding out and hitting puberty. When we’d been coming up, we’d been pulled out of their place once or twice while investigations of this or that went on. Some neighbor turned them in every once in a while. It was too bad, really, that Norma Rae was so smart about it.
Shit, the beatings when we got back though? Fuck me, those weren’t so much fun. Neither was having the four of us crammed in one room for the duration of our lives. We weren’t kids, or people to those fruitcakes. We were a monthly paycheck so they could drown themselves in their booze and cigarettes. Grind was the one who kept the four of us fed, all the way back from the time me and Rush first showed up to when we finally got out of that hell hole by aging out of the fuckin’ system.
That kid knew how to hustle up some groceries, man. He had dumpster diving at the local supermarket down to a science. Would come home, backpack loaded with barely expired or food that was still good if we got it into the freezer that night. You would be fuckin’ amazed at the shit grocery places tossed out. A total fuckin’ waste if you ask me. Homeless folks could eat like motherfuckin' kings every night of the week if only that shit was donated. Seriously, there wasn’t anything wrong with any of the food Grind came up with.
If it happened to be a week of slim pickings at the supermarket, he would be the first kid in line with a backpack and two reusable grocery bags at the local church’s food pantry. He’d give ‘em a bullshit name and come home with all sorts of shit from there, too.
If it was one thing Grind knew how to do, it was put food on the table, and if it was one thing Arch knew how to do, it was take on some of Grind’s beating when Duncan sobered up enough to catch Grind bringing it in the mobile home. Duncan would beat his ass, boy. He liked to freak the fuck out over Grind ‘stealing’ and when Grind couldn’t take any more of the belt, he would say some sort of code or phrase and Arch would jump in and draw fire. At least until Rush and I got old enough to take our share.
I thought about Maren, about her desperate looks in her brother’s direction when he’d been smarting off and just generally acted like a little entitled asshole earlier that day. He’d come up sheltered by the love of his sister and probably their dad, too. I don’t know how long the dude had been sick, but judging by the state of the house on the outside, and the living room, it’d been a long damn time. It made me wonder how fast Maren’d had to grow up. How long she’d been holding down the fort, so to speak.
I also wondered where their mom was at, but it was pretty clear, dead or alive or whatever, that she’d been out of the picture for a long, long time. I mean, there weren’t but one or two pictures on the walls with her in it, and the ones she was in? Sage was about my nephew Noah’s age, if not younger, and Maren no older than six or seven.
I sighed and closed my eyes, but all I could see was a luminous pair of somber brown eyes and that envelope trembling between her fingers as she fought not to cry again. Here was to hoping that things would get a little better for her and her brother. We would just have to see what happened.
Chapter 4
Maren
I sat in the wreckage of wrapping paper and boxes and watched Sage work on a wooden Rubik’s cube that had been beautifully crafted and couldn’t be anything less than hand made. I’d certainly never seen anything like it. My small treasure-trove sat in front of me and I was speechless once again, it was too much.
The first gift I had opened was a wooden jewelry box that was hand carved with flowering vines. It was a dark, rich wood that I had no name for and when you opened the hinged top, half of it was set up for rings, little rolls of dark blue velvet ready to hold them. The other half, was parceled into small, square, divided pockets to hold, I think, post earrings. There were two shallow drawers set into the front of the box, and I figured they were for earrings, necklaces, and bracelets. It was beautiful, and likewise to Sage’s Rubik’scube, handmade.
Next had been a box of high-end chocolates from this place I had always wanted to try called Soul Fuel. Almost all of the other senior girls stopped there for coffee on the way to school, but I couldn’t afford five dollars a day for coffee when I could make it at home. That five dollars added up quickly, and I just couldn’t bring myself to do it, even every once in a while; not when there were things like the water, sewer, garbage, and the ever dreaded electric bill to pay. Plus there were other bills most kids never had to think about, such as their phone bill, car insurance, gas for the car, food for the fridge and pantry, cable, even though ours was basic, and the internet; which Sage and I lived and died by when it came to school and entertainment.
We were fortunate there was no house payment, still, there was fire insurance and property taxes, and now a looming inheritance tax debt that I didn’t even want to think about. There was just so much my classmates took for granted that I could not, and I felt equal parts blessed for the harsh lesson and cursed. While I knew it was setting me up to be stronger, and more ahead of things than any of my classmates would ever be, I was cursed to have the veil of safety stripped away so soon. I was cursed to have lost my dad…
Still, with everything money-wise that terrified me; that made the next gift all the sweeter. It was a beautiful hand written gift certificate done in calligraphy for free coffee of my choice, any drink, any size, every day for one year from Soul Fuel.
There were a couple of iTune’s gift cards for both me and Sage, and Sage had received a mountain of gift cards to just about every local movie theater which would be good for him and a friend to go. He also received a brand new skateboard, and I was grateful that whoever had thought of that gift, had also purchased a helmet, wrist, elbow, and knee guards and a gift certificate to a local sporting goods store for a sturdy pair of shoes.
There was also a basketball and a basketball hoop meant to be mounted on the house above the garage, a note attached to the back with a phone number and to call it when we were ready to have it put up.
I had also received a beautiful necklace and earring set, garnets in an oval shape, leaves at the top, and so delicate I had to put them on right away. They were beautiful, the garnets large and a deep, rich red that complimented my dark hair and eyes the settings gleaming in that way that said the metal was white gold rather than silver. It was all, just, so much… I didn’t know what to do.
I’d saved the last gift in the pile for a reason because it said it was from Nox. I
cradled my coffee mug between both hands and stared at the box for a while, debating on what to do about it, more nervous than I should be about what was inside. I tore the paper and found another beautiful wooden box, though this one was quite a bit heavier than the last.
I lifted the little metal hasp on the front and opened it slowly, smiling at the assortment of bath products inside. From bath bombs to bubble bath, scented salts and shower jellies, just about anything I could want or need for a long relaxing soak was there, enough for a month or more of daily use. It was something I could really use – to relax and it was both sweet and thoughtful.
I picked up my phone and sent a text:
Me: Thank you for my gift, I really love it.
I set about picking up the scattered paper and boxes, breaking the latter down for the recycling bin, my phone singing out that I’d received a new text. I bit my lip, surprised at the slight jump of excitement I felt and looked at the screen.
Nox: I thought it might help u relax a little.
Me: It was very thoughtful and very sweet, all of it is just too much.
“These guys are so cool, Maren. Some of this stuff is so awesome!” I smiled over at Sage who was still hard at work on his cube.
“Wow, you have two sides done already. Good job! I could never figure one of those things out.”
“Aw, it’s easy! Who are you texting?”
“Nox, I wanted to say thank you.”
“Tell him thank you from me, too?” he asked and I nodded. It was nice to have my sweet little brother back for the moment.
“Will do, Sage.”
“Thanks,” he murmured but he was fully absorbed in the toy in his hands again.
Nox: Ur brother like his?
I smiled and tapped out a response.
Me: Very much so. He asked me to tell you ‘thank you’ and honestly, that’s the best gift you and your club has given me this Christmas. He’s distracted, he’s my brother for the time being. You have no idea what that means to me.
“Sage, I’m going to take some of this stuff out to the garage, okay?”
My brother looked up and asked, “Do you want help?” I blinked and shook my head gently.
“No, I just wanted to let you know where I was going, thank you for the offer, though.”
He nodded and said, “I love you sis; I’m sorry I couldn’t get you anything for Christmas.”
“I love you, too, Sage and you just did. Best Christmas present ever.” I sniffed back some tears and stuck my phone into my back pocket, taking the recyclables out to the big blue recycling bin and stuffing it down.
My phone came through with a text, and as soon as I was finished wrestling with the trash, I looked.
Nox: He been giving u a hard time?
Me: Yes and no. I don’t think he knows how to deal with the fact that I’m it. There’s no dad here to tell him to listen to his sister. We’re both still trying to cope.
Nox: I get u. U doing okay?
Me: Yes and no. The people are coming the day after tomorrow to take the hospice stuff out of here. I think that is going to be hard for me. I think then it will be real.
Nox: U call me if you need anything, okay?
Me: Okay.
The rest of the day was fairly uneventful for both me and Sage. He went up to nap and play games on his console while I did my best to make a real Christmas dinner, which is a lot harder than it sounds when your cooking skills were still starting out. Tradition in our house always called for a Christmas ham; that was something I wasn’t entirely familiar with cooking, but I read the label and managed.
Nox: We’re watching Christmas movies here at the club, think u and Sage would want to join?
Me: What movies?
Nox: Die Hard and Die Hard 2
Me: I thought you said you were watching Christmas movies.
Nox: What? Those are Christmas movies!
I laughed.
Me: LOL no they aren’t! It’s a Wonderful Life, Elf, A Christmas Story… THOSE are Christmas movies.
Nox: Die Hard, Die Hard 2, THOSE are Christmas movies too!
Me: I think we’re going to have to agree to disagree on that one, and while I wish we could, I just put dinner in the oven so we’re going to have to pass. Plus, I think it’s snowing again, and I don’t want to kill us trying to get there.
Nox: LOL, easy girl. U don’t have to make excuses, I get it. It’s Christmas, and time for family. Sage is yours, the club is mine. It’s cool.
Me: I’m sorry! I didn’t mean for it to come out sounding like a bunch of excuses, I really would if I could.
Nox: It’s okay, Maren. Ur good. Text me if you get bored, k?
Me: I will, I promise. :)
I smiled and finished dinner, feeling a little lighter than I had in… god… since I could remember. It was a good day.
Chapter 5
Nox
“Is that Jailbait?” Rush asked looking over my shoulder.
“Fuck you, man and yeah, it was Maren saying thank you to everybody for her and Sage’s gifts.”
“Aww!” Sunshine smiled from Trigger’s lap and I smiled back at her. We were all in the media room, about to start Die Hard.
“You invite her and the boy over for this?” Dragon asked, taking a pull off his beer from one of the recliners.
“Yeah, she said naw. She’s got their dinner in the oven.”
“Shit, she’s all growed up way too fast, ain’t she?” Dragon muttered and shook his head.
“You ain’t lyin’.” Dray muttered, hugging Everett closer. She dozed against him where they lay on the media room’s extra-long couch.
I sighed unhappily and restlessly. I wanted to see her again, wanted to wave a magic wand and dispel the hurt clouding her eyes every time I looked at her, and it was a bit of a bitch to stay put.
We watched the Die Hard movies because let’s face it, it wasn’t Christmas until you watched Hans Gruber take a swan dive off of Nakatomi Plaza. Then, after the four hours or so romp with Bruce Willis, I was pretty much over it and ready for a nap, so I took myself off to my room.
I checked my phone like six times before I fell asleep, but of course, there was nothing on it. I was beginning to wonder, out of the two of us, who was the fucking teenage girl here. My behavior was downright hilarious when you stopped to think about it.
Although the message that pinged my phone and woke me up at two in the morning reminded me otherwise. It screamed out that there was someone seriously hurting and scared in the midst of all of this and all I wanted was to have the right words to make it all better.
Maren: I miss him so much right now. Why did he have to die? Why couldn’t it have been me?
I sighed, and pictured her curled on her side, cheeks wet with her tears as she stared at the little rectangle of light that was her phone and waited, waited for me to have the answers, but I didn’t. Not when it came to death and dying. No one did, really. Growing up the way I did, I wasn’t much of a believer in God. Shit, I mean, if he was up there, he was a right fucking asshole letting all of us suffer down here like we were. Letting Maren suffer now… Of course, if there was no God, then she probably wouldn’t have met me when she did, now would she? You wouldn’t be compelled to stick around and help her either, now would you? I argued with myself and resolutely shoved my inner theological debate team off to the side. Right now, this girl who was in so much pain it made me raw just to see it, was reaching out for a lifeline.
Me: Baby don’t talk like that… Ur here because as much of a dick as he is, God doesn’t give people more than they can handle.
Maren: He’s overestimating my abilities to hang on here.
Me: Where do you think I come in?
I stared at the screen, no bouncing dots, no nothing until the screen went dark. I sighed, thinking I’d probably said the wrong thing, and dropped the phone to my chest, staring at the ceiling in the dark when it buzzed against my chest.
Maren: I don’t know what to
say to that. I still don’t really understand why you would do so much for me. I’m a total stranger. I guess it’s just been an extremely long day. The holiday, missing my dad… they’re coming for the hospice stuff the day after tomorrow and it’s like I don’t want them to take it. Like if they take it away, it’s really real, you know? That he’s not coming back…
Maren: I’m sorry. I’m babbling and it’s probably really unattractive, me being all needy and washed out all the time.
I chuckled, amused that she was worried about being attractive. I mean shit, I should be considered a thirty-six-year-old, dirty old man by her seventeen-year-old standards. I squeezed my eyes shut and gave my head a little shake.
She was pretty. She had a bangin’ body. She was over the age of consent and emancipated, but that didn’t make any of what I was thinkin’ anywhere close to right and the legalities were murky. I needed my fucking head examined, and right about now, I needed a cold shower too. Wasn't any way I was on board with becoming some kind of a pedo. Fuck that.
Me: U aren’t being needy. Far from it. U been handling this like a champ so far and I can tell u, there ain’t no wrong or right when it comes to this shit. Denial ain’t just a river in Egypt, Maren. Welcome to it. It’ll pass, and u’ll go back to it. Then u gonna go through all sorts of other shit too. It’s okay, it’s normal, and ur not crazy. That’s the most important thing. Ur, not crazy for any of these feelings. Ur hurting. Ur hurting bad. So is ur brother. I told u I am here to listen. U gotta cut you some slack, girl.
Again there was a long pause before the dots started their shimmy across the bottom corner of the screen.
Maren: I don’t think I can thank you enough.
Me: U cryin?
Maren: Yeah
Me: Good, u just let it out.
Maren: Why are you so patient and understanding? :-P
Me: Seems like not enough people have been for u.
Maren: The school administration and our social worker, they try. Most of my teachers have been pretty good.