"Let's go." He walked past me. I skipped up to meet his step and we ambled through a perfectly manicured landscape of dead people, all with headstones--some small plaques laid flat and grass high. Others erect, like billboards on a highway reminding visitors, those passers-by, that someone had lived, that someone was once there, physically, and would continue to be loved and missed for a lifetime.
Flat or erect, they all told the same sad story. Someone was dead.
We walked until it came my turn.
"Here." I said. Looking down, I stood there just staring forever. It seemed like forever. But, Matt coughed into a balled-up hand, into dad's glove. Somehow that seemed fitting.
I gave Matt a pathetic grin then sat next to dad's graveside, chest high if you happened to be lying down next to him.
I almost did. I felt weak there, by this snow-covered knoll that used to be my father.
It was the first time I'd visited him since last year. It had been exactly eleven months, three weeks and two days.
I had refused to go anymore with mom on her daily trips. She just cried. And, I couldn't stand the sight of that.
Dad's headstone, looked wet with rain that bled into dryer concrete near its base.
The stone had enough snow trimming it to make it look like it was wearing a white top hat. It looked elegant.
Loving husband, father, son.
Gregory Speider.
June 1, 1971 to December 5, 2009.
No mention of how the guy driving the snowplow that night thought no one would be out during a blizzard.
No mention that he had had a few nips of spiced rum to warm him up for work.
No mention that he basically got his hand slapped for driving under the influence and no, he wasn't 2.5 but he was 1.1, enough to be impaired.
And! No mention that the attorney who prosecuted him said that they planned to collect all of these cases into one big example for future offenders to "beware." The attorney said, making quotation marks with his fingers. The dweeb.
Matt had been completely respectful of my silence. He was standing behind me.
Then I did what I had wanted to all this time.
I laid down.
I laid down flat on my back next to dad.
The flowers tumbled out of my hand.
Matt turned his back away from us and let me cry.
His plaid shoulders jerked with every gulp of sorrow I drew in, with every raw wail I let out.
Then, he turned to me, his eyes wet. "Come on." He reached out his hand.
"No." I blubbered out.
"Yes. Come on. I want to go."
I sucked back my tears and sat up. I looked at dad. My face pinched but I didn't make a sound that time. I turned back to Matt, his hand still outstretched and I grabbed it. Even through my mittens, even through dad's glove on his hands, I felt his warmth emanating into mine.
He pulled me up and then pulled me into a hug. "Come on." He whispered, letting go of me. Then, he bent down to pick up my flowers and placed them properly into the headstone slot provided and, he said, "There. Let's get out of here."
As we walked through the grandiose forged metal gate we stopped and looked back, once. We looked at each other.
We sucked saliva into our mouths, puckered up and, we spat at the ground.
FIFTY SEVEN - Getting Over the Hump
"Study tonight?" We Y-ed off in the middle of the street after getting home.
"Sure."
"Dad home?"
"Huh uh."
"No?"
"Huh uh."
"Will he be home for dinner?"
Matt shrugged. I rolled my eyes and looked behind me to the kitchen window. Mom was washing dishes. I'd need to apologize to her... for a few things.
"Want to eat with us?"
"Sure." His cheeks shone pink from the cold. His eyes brightened. They looked thick and swollen, red.
I raised up on my toes to reach his shoulders and to give him a hug. "Thanks for going with me."
"No prob." He patted his gloves together and blew air from his mouth into his fists. "What time?"
"Huh?"
"Dinner."
"Oh, yeah." I looked back at mom, who was now watching us, then back to Matt. "Five-thirty should work."
"K."
"K." I smiled. He gave me a wave and I turned and loped up the stairs toward the door. When I turned to Matt he was still standing there. "K." I said again.
"K." He said. "Bye." He waved once more and turned to his house and walked away.
But, then, something had been needling at me and I couldn't let it alone. "Hey, Matt!" I yelled from the porch. A stiff wind gusted through, nearly pushing me.
He stopped and turned back to me. His shoulders were tucked in from the cold.
"What's with your dad?"
"What d'ya mean?"
"What I mean is that he's never around. Is he working." His eyes didn't give anything away. He sort of stared blankly at me, not saying anything. Another blast of wind bent the trees behind him and kicked off some snow making it look like a flurry but the snow wasn't falling then.
Matt looked in the direction the wind blew in.
"Well?" I pressed.
"A meeting."
"A meeting. A meet--" I shook my head in disbelief. "One long meeting, I'd say. He's never home."
But, as though he'd been sworn to secrecy, Matt just turned this time and walked away from me.
I'd opened up some fresh wound today.
We'd both been through a lot and it didn't look as if it would be over too soon.
FIFTY EIGHT - Getting the Skinny
"How'd it go?"
I didn't answer mom. Not really. "You know." Was all.
I went to the refrigerator, opened it and screamed, "Chocolate Goat's Milk!" I spun to look at mom who had a you-know-what-eatin' grin on her face. "Can I have some?"
"I got it for you. They had some at that specialty grocers. I stopped there after I left you two at Costco. I figured you'd need a treat after..." She turned quickly back to the sink where she always seemed to be cleaning something.
"Oh. Man. Cool." I pulled out the carton. "Matt will LOVE this."
"Matt?"
"He's coming over again, ya know, to study." As I poured my mouth burst into a wet cavern awaiting my favorite drink in the entire world. It'd been far too long since I'd had this chocolate delight. "Can he come over for dinner?"
"Again?"
"His dad, Paul. You know. Absent With or Without Leave. What's up with him, anyway. He's never around. Do you even see him anymore?"
She didn't respond she just let me sit there waiting for an answer. Her head was down looking into the basin.
"Mom?"
"Susie." She stopped moving her hands but left them under the water. "You don't always have to know everything about everybody." Then she grumbled something.
"What?"
"I said, anyway it's none of your business what Paul does."
"Well, so sorry to ask. I though you might know is all and I thought since all we do is feed Matt day-in and day-out that you might be able to shine a little light on the subject. But. Forget it. Sorry to say a thing about dear Paul. Paul, the AWOL."
"Susie. Lord. When will you learn." Then, she turned to me. "If Matt needs to come to dinner then we will have him for dinner. They are our friends. If Matt needs anything, we will try to help him. Why? Because they are our friends. Okay?"
"God. Mother. It's not like I'm going to broadcast it on the evening news." I waited for her to turn back to her dishes or whatever was in that water that kept her so intrigued all of the time. "What. Is he in jail or something?"
"Susie. Lord have a heart. The man is having an extremely difficult time with being all alone, with losing his wife," Mom's voice was starting to pitch up, "with having to raise a child all by herself!"
The silence that fell, then made me feel as if I'd stepped off a high cliff with no chance of landing, ever.
Mom turned back, realizing her error.
I got up and walked to my room, forgetting about my milk on the table.
FIFTY NINE - ...On Paul!
Matt's face went slack. "Look, Matt. I forced it out of her. I was badgering her and she just couldn't take it anymore. She told me that if she told me, that I would have to let you know. But. I cross my heart. Your secret is safe. Mum's the word."
"Keep it under your arms." He mumbled quietly.
"I thought that was just our family who said that."
"It's universal."
"Huh."
"He goes ALL of the time." He said referring to Paul.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"There was no good moment."
I nodded and looked at our study sheet. Matt's study sheet. "What meetings?"
"God. You name it."
"Like what?"
"Single parents. Survivor Single Parents " He started the list of meetings Paul was going to. "Cancer survivors." He counted on his fingers now. "AA." He looked up almost as if to apologize. I just shrugged my shoulders but he continued. "Group therapy and his private sessions."
"Lord."
"I know. Extreme, huh?"
"No. I meant, Lord, that's sad." I handed him one of our study sheets. Matt had lost his sheets already sometime between our second and third tutoring session. "I didn't know... it was... that... bad." Our eyes connected. His looked like a beaten dog's. "I'm sorry."
"S' okay."
Delilah jumped up on Matt's lap. "She likes you."
"Hey. Delilah." He scratched her chin. "Hey pussycat."
My eyes got so huge, like, I thought, oh my god is he my soul mate? A kind of weird thought. But, I didn't say a word.
"She's purring."
I chuckled. "She does that when she's happy. She purrs a lot." Then, I rethought it, "except, of course, when I'm playing the sax."
Matt laughed but continued to scratch Delilah.
"Look. Matt. I promise you with everything, I will never, ever let this out, to anyone, not even your dad. Ever."
"Thanks, Susie."
And, I realized at that moment, I'd never heard Matt call me by my first name.
SIXTY - Mom Asleep v. Mom Awake
I was up early that morning. She was still in bed sleeping when I crept into her room. She looked like a cherub, with a single long ribbon of golden hair draped across her forehead just above her eyes. Her arm looked suspended and framed her face, bent around her head like that, all propped on top of the pillow with her nose barely touching the skin of her bicep.
Her breathing was deep and raspy, almost snoring but not quite. Dad snored, big horn blower snores but mom's were ladylike snores, more velvety.
The covers had been pulled up close to her neck. The days had turned frosty and even though the heater had been set to 70 degrees, the air held winter close inside it.
I stood there watching her before I said anything. It kind of bothered me to wake her.
"Mom."
She didn't move at first, then like a knock inside a dream she answered.
"Yes?"
I smiled because, for me, the point between waking and sleeping always felt like being on the brink of either becoming conscious or slipping away forever. It's that precarious.
Then, as quickly as I smiled, I got sad, thinking how dad must've felt as he slipped out of our lives.
"Mom?" I repeated.
"Oh. Honey." She rolled under the blankets onto her back and shuffled her body more toward the center of the bed, for me to sit down next to her. Her arm came down and, just as suspected, she patted the space she'd provided.
I crossed both of my legs and looked at the pretzel shape they made. My waffle-woven thermal PJs smiled at me with kitty faces splattered all over them, like, grey and white cats and black and white cats and pink and white cats and blue and white cats--all with kitty smiles and tongues poking out, licking the right side of their kitty faces.
"What's up?" Her voice sounded groggy. "I need coffee."
"I'll make you some. In a minute."
She put her right hand on my leg. The warmth of it spread around my knee. My hand automatically covered hers and we sat there, sleepy-eyed, looking at each other.
"Mom. I have to say something to you and I don't want you to even comment or talk to me about it. Okay? I just really need to say something."
"Okay. What is it?"
"Promise. Promise you won't say anything after."
"I promise." She made a little X over her heart with two finger and then kissed both fingertips.
"K." I said and sat up straight, taking a deep breath in. Mom took one in too. "I wanted to apologize for how I've treated you lately. About you and Paul. About yelling at you. About saying all the terrible things I've said to you. I'm so sorry mom. I am so sorry."
And, then, mom goes ahead and blurts out, "Oh, thank God. I thought you were gonna tell me you had sex with Matt!"
"Oh. My. God! Mother! No. Noooo. That is SO not, not saying anything."
She breathed out and placed her hand over her heart. "Phhhhh. Thank you God. Thank you God." Then, she pointed to the ceiling.
"Uhch!" I stood up, placing my hands on both hips and scolded. "You are truly something else!"
Mom then started to laugh. Like uncontrollably. She grabbed for my wrist but I moved it out of the way in time.
"Tisk. Mother. Tisk tisk tisk!" I shook my head staring at her in disbelief. "I'm getting us coffee."
Through her laughter she asked, "Us?!"
"Mother. I'm almost a junior, for crying out loud." I chided as I walked out of her room, shaking my head all the way into the kitchen.
SIXTY ONE - Stasis
Things had calmed down to the point where I was almost not dreaming at all. Which I missed. My grades were hanging steady. But, well, the coffee that morning. It added that extra kick I'd been needing.
"Now, listen pussy. This is the last time you are allowed to take me out. Here?"
Delilah gave me her oath in a breathy, sexy Yow! Which let me know she agreed.
I had to pay my last respects to Rider. That is, if Morlson hadn't already sucked him up into the vacuum cleaner. Lord. The thought.
Still, the problem of Morlson's window posed an even greater challenge now. With a sprung pulley cord there would be no way I could lift the window up, let alone, get through it!
Another thick padding of snow had fallen but even so we made it in no time flat to Morlson's window.
And, miracles of miracles, Morlson did as she always proclaimed to do, she left the window cracked. She'd shoved one of the monster bunny slippers under it, to keep it ajar. It looked like it'd been caught in the mother of all mouse traps.
Take that! Dastardly bunny!
The distinct sound of a horse whinnying came from the bed. Morlson was sound asleep.
The carpeting looked perfectly combed. Only an outlining of Morlson's feet were pressed in several spots on the window side of the bed, in front of the TV and toward the bathroom.
She'd vacuumed.
My head spun in anguish. Still, I searched each loop of shag, each crack, each crevice all the way over to the corner wall where we'd first met and where I'd nearly been killed, where Rider was... I couldn't think it.
I peered up to our dark corner but with the lights off it made it impossible to see. I'd have to climb the wall in order to get a closer look.
When I got there, it stunk of Raid, the web was in shreds and, no. No Rider.
"Rider!" I bellowed out. "Rider!"
But, not a chirp.
Instead of climbing down, I decided to climb the length of the wall back toward the window.
He was gone. My efforts had proven futile. I couldn't locate Rider.
My head hung low, wishing I could turn back the hands of time to a happier moment when Rider and I merely gazed down upon the loaf of a woman as she snored, as she chmakked out her dreams, as I ventured onto one of her lumpy legs giv
ing her an undetectable bite. I missed those times, indeed.
And, as I neared the window, I took one long, last view of her room. Never again. I vowed. Even pussy vowed.
It was the right thing to do.
"Goodbye, Ms. Morlson. Miss-ezzz Morlson." I said then correcting myself.
"G-g-goodbye."
My heart thumped to attention and beat so hard it shook my entire body.
"Rider?"
"Want s-s-some?"
"Rider!" I screamed. "You're alive!"
"Yes-s-s!" A light hissing snicker came from somewhere, I couldn't tell. "Rose & Garden S-s-spray! Doesn't k-k-kill... s-s-spiders!" His snickering continued. "C-c-close though. S-s-scary too! Sh-sh-she n-n-nearly gr-gr-ground me into a p-p-pulp with her big ol' f-f-fat foot!"
"Where are you? I want to see you for the last time?"
"The l-l-last t-t-time?"
"Yes. I think it's for the best."
"Q-q-quite right. The b-b-best." He went silent for a brief second then said. "S-s-sad though. I sorta l-l-like y-y-you."
"I sorta like you too, Rider." My little fore claws made a circular gesture and I asked, "So. Where are you?"
He snickered. "I'm h-h-hiding from y-y-you." More snickering.
I put my second and third set of claws onto my waist. "Hiding? From me?"
"I th-th-think that's b-b-best!" He snickered some more. "L-l-liking you is d-d-dangerous."
I smiled and looked around the room. "Well, wherever you are, Rider the Spider. I will miss you for the rest of my life."
The sniffling noise was my cue to go and when I'd made it onto safety's side of the window, I heard him whimper out. "Me too."
I waved through the window. Tears--as minute as the minutest shards from a broken mirror--streaked my face.
I turned away, climbed up onto pussy's ear and we left.
SIXTY TWO - Mom & Wine Don't Mix Well
When mom came home from the "parent-teacher" meeting, the meeting Mr. Haggerty was having with Ms. Morlson in tow, she flung her keys onto the table. They shimmied across it like skipping stones over water.
Spider Brains: A Love Story (Book One) Page 16