My Name Is River Blue

by Noah James Adams

  Carlee had been frightened when I had emergency surgery, but after the doctor announced that I would fully recover, she was excited to have a reason to see me that she could sell to her parents. She presented her visits, which always included Max, as the Christian thing to do for a boy who was much less fortunate than she and Max, who both had good, loving families. She took the opportunity to thank her mother and father for all they did for her and to tell them that seeing poor River in the hospital with no family made her realize how lucky she was. Since my situation made Carlee see how grateful she should be for her wonderful parents, they saw nothing wrong with her joining Max on his visits. With her parents' blessings, Carlee saw me every day at the hospital and several times at Tolley House where I continued to recover in the room I shared with Ant. Max and Ant always found something to do to give Carlee and me time alone during each visit.

  It had been impossible for Carlee to have me alone at her party with so many of our classmates talking to me. Besides questions about Christmas gifts, some of them asked about my recent surgery, and a few of them wanted to talk about a particular football play from the season that just ended. Carlee thought that she would scream if one more classmate attempted to stroke my ego because they hoped that some of my popularity would infect them. For December, it was an unusually warm night and as soon as Carlee was able to get me alone for a second, she asked me to take a walk with her to the gardens. Before we had walked ten feet, two girls stopped us.

  One of the girls, Brooke Jamison, was a sophomore cheerleader who had done her best to hang around me that night. Carlee discovered that Brooke had broken up with her boyfriend right before the party, which meant that she was free to giggle at anything I said that was remotely funny while she looked for any excuse to touch me. Several times, Brooke patted me on the back, but the one time that Carlee saw her, the girl's hand was briefly on my butt. Brooke was lucky that Carlee's parents were there. Their presence was probably the only thing that kept Carlee from yanking every hair from Brooke's head.

  Carlee finally managed to slip me away with her to walk through the gardens to the same gazebo where we had kissed for the first time. As we walked, I could see that she was angry, and I discovered that it was because I was oblivious to how badly she wanted to be alone with me. She believed that if it were not for her, we would never have any time to ourselves. She was making the kind of melodramatic, childish fuss that irritated me, and my reaction did nothing to calm her.

  "Carlee, if you had a problem, why didn't you say so all the times I asked if you were okay? And what did you expect when you planned this party? Did you think your parents would be okay with us staying in your bedroom all night? People mingle and talk at parties. So what if people talk to me?"

  Carlee almost growled her loud response. "So what? I'll tell you what. A relationship takes effort from both people, and I'm the only one making an effort. Do you think it's been easy for me to come up with excuses to see you? And do you think those other girls really care about you? Did any of them visit you in the hospital as much as I did? Did any of them go to Tolley House to visit you in your crappy, little cracker box of a room? Did any of them care enough for you to suffer through the disgusting odor of your black roommate's stinky workout clothes?"

  Carlee abruptly stopped talking, bringing her hand to her mouth as if to plug the dam of inappropriate remarks. She was immediately sorry for her words, as she watched me cloud over like a purple thunderhead blocking out the sun. A storm was exactly what brewed behind my eyes as I struggled to control my anger.

  Carlee was attempting to phrase an apology that would wipe away the hurtful words that she regretted, but before she could say anything, I spoke through my gritted teeth.

  "So, I guess I should be grateful that you stooped low enough to visit me in my 'crappy room' where all of a sudden, instead of Ant, he's my 'black roommate' with 'stinky clothes.' I'm sorry you were disappointed with your slumming experience at Tolley House, but I'll make damn sure it doesn't happen again."

  "River, I'm sorry," pleaded Carlee. "That didn't come out right at all. I was just upset."

  "You stay upset. You don't believe me no matter what I say or do. You're jealous, paranoid, possessive, and petty, and it's all ugly as hell on you. You don't have a reason to get upset anymore because I'm done with your snobbish, racist ass."

  I was angry enough to lose control, and I knew that I had to walk away, but as I turned back onto the path that led to the party, Carlee grabbed my arm.

  "Please, River. I'm sorry."

  In my state of mind, we were both lucky that I only shook off her hand. "Carlee, don't touch me again. We're finished. There's nothing you can do that will make me forget what you said."

  I heard Carlee crying behind me as I walked towards her house to find Ant. I needed to tell him that I was going to call Hal for an early ride home.

  Carlee's remarks hurt me so badly because I loved her. Her biggest mistake was her comment about Ant, which sounded as if she had been a racist all along. A racist who slipped up and said what she really thought. Anyone who knew me understood that Ant had become a brother to me and that I would never tolerate anyone disrespecting him.

  In addition to her remark about Ant, the way she described visiting my crappy little room, made me wonder just how much she looked down on me. Did she ever really love me or was I just the bad boy she used as a way of secretly rebelling against her parents? Was she trying to protect me from phony girls or was she protecting her property?

  When Hal drove Ant and me home from the party, I was sick and confused over my fight with Carlee. I knew for sure that I couldn't deal with the ugly side of her that she showed me in her garden. With my life finally getting better, I wanted no part of anything that made me feel as bad as I did on the ride home to my crappy little room at Tolley House.

  ***

  I didn't sleep well the night of Carlee's party because I kept waking up and replaying our fight in her garden. One minute, I would get angry all over again and the next minute, I would question my harsh words to her, wondering if I had overreacted. I told Ant about some of our argument, but I left out her remarks concerning him. From what I told him, all he really understood was that she was too possessive and was trying to smother me. He agreed that Carlee and I should be having fun with other friends. At fifteen years old, he said we were too young to be living a soap opera and I agreed.

  Ant and I had no plans to go to Deer Lake Farm that Sunday, but I wanted some advice from Papa about Carlee and me. I could tell him the whole story, including her remarks about Ant and Tolley House, and I knew he would keep it confidential. When I discussed a problem with him, he often gave me a different perspective that was so clear and simple when he said it.

  At breakfast, I asked Hal and Jenny for permission to go to Deer Lake Farm, if I could find someone to give me a ride. I planned to check with two of the part-time employees, who usually worked a few hours on Sunday afternoons. Both guys were students at the community college and had to drive very close to Tolley House on their way to the farm. They often gave Ant and me a ride on days when our schedules matched theirs, and we helped pay their gas expense.

  Hal answered with an offer. "I'm going to check on my mom today, and I have to drive right by Papa's place. If you want to ride with me, I could drop you off at the farm and pick you up on my way back home."

  "Thanks, Hal. That would be great."

  Hal's mother lived alone in the small town of Johnsonville, which was about five miles past Deer Lake Farm. He was an only child, whose father died when he was a young boy, so it was easy to understand why he was very close to his mom. He made the thirty mile round trip every other day to spend a couple of hours with her and to do any chores that she had trouble doing on her own. When his schedule allowed, he would often spend an entire day with her.

  Ant claimed that I woke him up several times the previous night, so he wanted to stay home and nap. I think part of his reason for not go
ing was to give me privacy with Papa. Knowing how perceptive Ant was and how well he knew me, he probably suspected that I left out parts of my fight with Carlee. It was after that weekend when he told me that I sucked at trying to keep a secret, and I might as well have hung a flashing neon sign around my neck if something was bothering me.

  It was late Sunday morning when Hal left me in Papa's driveway with the understanding that he would pick me up in two and half hours. I didn't see any signs of anyone around the house or the barn areas, which was normal for a Sunday morning at the farm. I also didn't see Papa's truck parked under the car shed where he kept it when he was home. Walking up to the front porch of his house, I began to think that I should have called before I left Tolley House.

  Since I wasn't sure, I played it as if he was home and might be sleeping. The master bedroom was downstairs and Papa rarely went upstairs, so I knocked on the front door, knowing that he could hear me if he were awake. When he didn't answer my knock, I decided not to ring his loud doorbell and chance waking him. I thought of seeing if Manny was up, but I didn't want to bother him, especially if he had female company in his apartment. Just walking up his stairs made enough noise to disturb him.

  On a warmer day, I would have killed some time by checking on the horses, but I was cold enough that I was beginning to shiver. When I left Tolley House, I thought a light jacket would be enough, but that was before the wind increased until it was whipping and biting me with gusts of cold air. Papa had shown me where he hid a house key underneath the porch steps, and I decided to use the key and wait inside his house. I was sure he wouldn't mind because if he didn't trust me in his house, he wouldn't have shown me where the key was.

  As soon as I entered Papa's house and closed the door behind me, I was relieved to be out of the cold air. From where I stood, I could see parts of the kitchen, the family room, and Papa's office, but I couldn't see or hear anything that made me think Papa was home. I called his name twice and there was no answer. I didn't think it was right to prowl around his house, so I thought I would just sit in the family room and watch TV until Papa came home or Hal came back to get me.

  When I walked into the family room, a noise startled me. From the entrance foyer, I couldn't see anyone, but when I moved to the middle of the room, I saw Papa crashed on the sofa. He was asleep. The sound I heard was his light but steady snoring. When I took in more of the scene, I realized that "asleep" was the wrong word. Unshaven with puffy eyes and flushed skin, Papa was a train wreck that I could smell from six feet away. He reeked like one of the Stockwell guards who used to start his morning shifts while he was still sweating out his booze from the previous night. As if I needed more evidence to confirm his condition, there was an empty glass and a tall, almost empty bottle of Jack Daniels on the floor beside the sofa.

  I was angry to see Papa passed out like a homeless drunk. I felt betrayed because the drunk on the sofa was something far less than my idol, the man I admired more than anyone I knew. A man with no flaws worth mentioning. A man I wanted to emulate. A man whose words I accepted as the truth by which to guide my life. All that he had taught me rushed through my mind and pumped my anger.

  Integrity is doing the right thing even when no one is looking. Be the best person you can be. Don't ever do drugs and remember that alcohol is a drug. Drinking alcohol to excess can ruin your life. You will have enough people trying to hurt you, so don't hurt yourself. If you would be ashamed for people to know what you did, then don't do it.

  I thought about the times that Manny had called Ant and me to tell us that Papa was sick with a bad headache and couldn't be with us that day. How many times did Manny have to lie for Papa when he was hung over? What else did Papa lie about? Was our whole friendship a lie?

  I wanted to scream at Papa until he woke up, but my feet started moving, and before I knew it, I had run out the front door, down the steps, and into the yard. I didn't see Manny until I literally ran into him. He dropped a small bag on the ground and wrapped me in a hug that steadied both of us and kept us on our feet. With my head on his shoulder, I saw Papa's truck parked in the driveway.

  "Calm down, River. What's wrong?"

  "Let me go, Manny!"

  I tried to jerk away from Manny, but he was too strong for me. He pulled back so that he could see my face, but he still held my arms.

  "I saw you running out of the house. Was Papa awake?"

  "You mean did I see him passed out piss drunk? Yeah, I did. So I know what a hypocrite he is, and I know you lie for him. Now let me go. I'm going to walk down to the highway and wait for Hal to pick me up."

  "How long will that be from now?"

  "Probably two hours. Maybe sooner."

  "It's too cold for you to wait outside that long. Let's go up to my apartment, and you can wait there. I can make you some hot chocolate, and we can talk."

  "I don't want to wait with you. I don't think I even want to come out here again."

  Manny's eyes flashed angrily as his hands tightened around my arms. "Just like that you see something you don't like, and all of the sudden, every good thing that Papa has done means nothing to you? Are you ready to throw away a friendship that easily?"

  "He's not who I thought he was. He's a phony." I bit my tongue a word too late.

  There was no missing Manny's sharp tone. "If you mean that Papa isn't perfect, you're right, but I'm pretty sure that he never told you he was. I'm also sure that you could spend the rest of your life looking and never find a better man."

  My accusation about Papa didn't sound nearly as true when I said it aloud, so I stared at the ground and said nothing. I was still angry, but Manny's reaction made me believe I should think things over before I said or did something that I could never take back. He continued to speak to me but in a softer voice.

  "River, your childhood makes it hard for you to believe in people, and when you try, you don't put your whole heart into it. Part of you is always holding back, watching for any little sign of dishonesty or any fault that gives you an excuse to break off a friendship before you invest too much. If you're looking for perfect people to love, you're going to be a very lonely old man."

  I still couldn't look up at Manny, and I couldn't think of anything to say. It occurred to me that the wind was so cold that I might freeze in place. A statue with my nose running, my shoulders slumped, my head hung, and my eyes trained on Manny's boots.

  Manny picked up the clear plastic shopping bag that contained a large box of aspirin.

  "Go wait in my apartment, River. I'll be up there in a few minutes."

  I nodded. I felt that I was in a trance when I walked to the barn and up the stairs to Manny's apartment. I was confused, and I wondered if life got any easier for adults. I spent too much time unsure of how I should feel and what I should do. Why did I always need someone else to validate my feelings?

  The reason I went to Papa's house was to see if he thought that I had reacted too harshly to Carlee. Now I was waiting for Manny to finish telling me that I overreacted to Papa. Exactly how screwed up was I? Hal and Jenny kept telling me that I needed to work on my social skills, and I mostly ignored them. Maybe I had a bigger problem than I thought. It didn't sound right for me to become so angry and judgmental with a friend over one mistake.

  Manny and I talked until Hal came to take me home. Papa really did have migraine headaches on those occasions when Manny called Ant and me to say Papa couldn't work with us. What I saw in his family room was an annual occurrence at some point during the holidays, but Papa never drank at any other time. When it happened, Manny would make a few quiet trips into the house to check on Papa, and see that he had anything he needed. He made sure that no farmhands or customers disturbed him. Of course, Manny wasn't expecting my visit.

  I asked Manny if he knew what made Papa drink so much every year, and he said that they had never discussed it. I wondered if it had anything to do with his parents or Lisa, his girlfriend, who died before they could marry. Did his losses
hit him harder during the holidays? I asked Manny, and he said that he could speculate, but he wouldn't. He told me that Papa had a right to his privacy, and if he was grieving for loved ones, he had a right to grieve without anyone intruding, criticizing, or trying to make sense out of something so personal to him. The only thing that mattered was what felt right to Papa.

  The more I thought about it, the more ashamed I was of how I reacted to seeing Papa in an unguarded moment of human frailty. After I invaded his privacy, I selfishly tried to make my discovery into something about me. He must have been living with pain that hurt him deeply, and instead of creating drama and judging him, I should have shown him compassion.

  I was grateful when Manny suggested that we keep quiet about my visit. He thought it would embarrass Papa, and I was sure it would embarrass me. We hoped that he would never ask, but we agreed that we would tell the truth if he did.

  I never heard anything from Papa about my visit to the farm that Sunday, but I was worried for a while that he would find out and confront me. I was fortunate to learn a lesson that didn't cost me nearly what it could have. I could have lost my friendship with Papa, a man I loved every bit as much as I could have loved a father.

  A few days after my unannounced visit to Deer Lake Farm, I told Papa about my fight with Carlee, and I decided to take his advice. First, I apologized to her for anything hurtful that I said or did, and then I offered to be her friend, but not her boyfriend. I told her that we were too young to have an ugly fight that hurt both of us so much and that we would be better off as friends without the stress. If we kept our friendship going, then when we were older, we could redefine our relationship as something more serious when we were mature enough to handle it.

  I sounded very wise when I repeated Papa's words to Carlee as if they were my own, and I was glad when she agreed to my proposal. I was looking forward to having her for a friend without all the drama that frustrated me and tore at my nerves. I looked forward to making new friends since I would be able to speak to other kids at school without looking around to see where Carlee was. Without a possessive girlfriend, my life would be less complicated and more fun, just as a teenager's life should be. It took less than a week for me to wonder how Carlee and I could have interpreted our agreement in two such completely different ways.