Bird Song (Grace Series)

by S. L. Naeole

  “I’ll see you tomorrow night, Grace,” Lark called out after Graham had taken his spot in the driver’s seat and started the car. I was about to ask what she meant by tomorrow night when they pulled off. She didn’t even answer my thoughts.

  “Well, isn’t that interesting,” I muttered to myself and headed into the house for dinner.

  Dad and Janice were seated at the little table in the kitchen. I took my seat and picked up the fork, ready to dig into the mound of spaghetti and meat-like-balls that had already been plated for me.

  “So, how was Graham’s vacation?”

  I looked at the food in front of me and sighed. I placed my fork down and raised my gaze up to dad’s. “His parents are getting a divorce.”

  Janice made a small moan of disappointment, while Dad’s expression was uncharacteristically morose. “Did Ivy come home with Graham?” he asked as he looked at Janice’s distressed face. I didn’t understand what the reason for the look they exchanged, but I was fairly certain that I would in a minute or two.

  “No. She’s staying in Florida. She wanted Graham to move down there with her, but he told her no. School is almost over, and he doesn’t want to switch schools for just one more semester,” I explained, thankful that I got to keep my best friend with me for just a little while longer.

  “Well, that makes things difficult for him,” Dad muttered. Difficult would be an understatement. Graham had mentioned his father’s drinking, and it was something that we all knew he’d had an issue with, but with the sound of glass bottles being tossed out more frequently coming from next door, half the street knew how difficult things were getting.

  “James, do you think Graham should be staying with his father, knowing how he’s been lately?”

  I turned to look at Janice with my mouth hanging open in surprise. What was she getting at with her question? My head turned when Dad started talking.

  “No, I don’t. It wouldn’t be healthy for that boy to be staying with Richard when he’s not even taking care of himself. What do you suggest we do?”

  As though I were witnessing a verbal tennis match, my head snapped back to Janice, and waited for her response. “I think he should stay here. I mean, he’s over here most of the time anyway, we know he can be trusted around Grace, and it’ll only be for a little while.”

  My eyes grew wide at the suggestion, and my head whipped back to Dad, curious to know what his reaction was. He was actually contemplating it!

  “I think you’re probably right, but Richard’s gonna be upset. He’s just lost his wife. I don’t think he’ll be so eager to give up his son, too.”

  “James, Graham’s eighteen. He can make his own decisions, especially about this.”

  Dad sighed. He did not relish the idea of hurting his friend…but not as much as he hated the idea of his friend hurting his son with his behavior. “I’ll talk to Richard. Grace, would you talk to Graham? It’d come off more helpful than custodial if you do it.”

  Pleased at finally being included in the conversation, I nodded, and finally dug into my dinner.

  ***

  I waited out on the steps fronting my house until I heard the car grumbling up the street. When Graham had finally put the car in park and climbed out, a strange smile on his face, I called out to him.

  “Oh, hey Grace,” he answered, and smiled sheepishly. “What are you doing out here so late?”

  I didn’t know what time it was, but I knew why I was here. I reached my hand out, and he took it, knowing that there was something I needed to talk to him about, and it required him coming inside out of the cold and away from the prying ears of any neighbors who might have been awakened by the sound of Graham’s return.

  “What’s up?” he asked as I pulled him inside. He followed me up to my room and said nothing as he sat down on my bed, watching me close the door as I did so.

  When I was sure that we’d be left alone, I sat down on the bed facing him and told him of the conversation between Dad and Janice. I knew he’d be slightly upset that I had revealed his personal problems with my dad, but what I hadn’t expected was the overall relief he expressed at not having to choose between either parent.

  “You don’t know how good that sounds, Grace. I didn’t know how I was going to deal with it tonight. When I talked to my dad on the phone at the airport, he sounded so out of it. It’s why I called the cab.”

  I frowned; if Richard was that bad, perhaps he needed to get some help. I silently prayed that he’d get it, that Dad would help him find it. Graham didn’t need his father completely breaking down on in the middle of senior year. The fighting had been difficult enough for Graham to deal with, and now that his parents were living in completely different states, I couldn’t imagine how he was feeling.

  I could only relate to him on the level of losing a parent. He would still be able to see them, of course, and talk to them…but no matter what he did from now on, one was always going to be missing from his life. And if his father’s drinking became worse, well…one might be missing permanently.

  I frowned again, because that option would involve Robert, and the thought didn’t sit well with me. Graham and Robert were finally getting along, things were going well. If Richard didn’t get help…

  “Grace?”

  I blinked at the voice calling my name. “Yeah?”

  He chuckled, “I lost you for a second. You totally spaced out. What’s up?”

  I shook my head, dismissing the thoughts that had taken me away from our conversation. “I was just wondering where you were going to sleep. Janice and Dad have already turned that teeny room next to mine into the nursery, and Dad actually parks his car in the Garage…”

  Where was he going to sleep? Janice had said that they could trust Graham with me…she didn’t actually mean that… “Oh please tell me no,” I gasped before jumping off my bed. I raced to the door and flew downstairs to the kitchen, where Janice was cleaning.

  “Grace? What’s wrong?” she asked nervously, taking in my flushed face and my hectic breathing.

  “Where’s Graham supposed to sleep?” I panted, the anxiety in my voice apparent even to me.

  As the seriousness of the situation finally dawned on her she smiled. “Oh Grace, he’ll sleep on the couch! You didn’t think we’d meant for him to sleep in your room, did you?”

  I giggled nervously, sheepishly; foolishly. “Of course not!” Of course I did. She knew that. But she didn’t know that the reason I did was because of something she wasn’t aware of; I didn’t want Robert to come into my room to see Graham sleeping in there. Even though they were friends now, I didn’t trust what my boyfriend would do if he found another guy in my room in the middle of the night.

  “Well, I’m done in here. You know where the sheets and blankets are, Grace. I’ll let you take care of things. I’m going to bed. Goodnight.” I watched as she left the kitchen, her head shaking at my obvious overreaction, her shoulders bobbing up and down with her quiet laughter.

  Sighing with embarrassment, I went back up the stairs to my room. “Looks like you’ll be sleeping on the couch,” I said as I walked through the door.

  Graham was sitting down on the corner of the bed, his hands holding onto something that appeared very fragile in his hands. It was pink, and shiny, reflecting the light from the ceiling lamp.

  “I thought you might have thrown this away or broken it or something,” he whispered as he rubbed an odd protrusion at the top of the largest part of the solid blob in his hands. I smiled, for in truth I had broken it.

  For a while, it had lain in pieces on the floor. It represented, to me at least, our friendship…and me. The little, deformed object in his hand was a ceramic whale that I’d made in the second grade. It sported a large green dorsal fin, the remnant of his own whale, which had exploded in the kiln and melded onto mine.

  I had thrown it against my dresser in a fit of rage a few weeks after he had ended our friendship; the head and tail broke apart cleanly, while ot
her parts chipped and broke away, falling around it neatly. It was our life, my life, obliterated in one swift movement.

  After that day, I hadn’t thought about it. I didn’t even try to find it after Graham had walked back into my life. It wasn’t necessary, I had told myself. And that worked for me…until Robert had fixed it.

  When he had somehow repaired the whale, and told me that it was stronger now than it had been before, I knew that he had been right. But I also knew that it wasn’t meant for me, but for Graham. He was now the one who needed reassurances about the strength of the few ties he had to his friends, especially now that his family had fallen apart.

  “Can I have it back?” Graham asked, never taking his eyes off the pink whale. “I should have never gotten rid of it.”

  “You’re right. You never should have gotten rid of it. But, I’ll let you have it back under the condition that when you use the bathroom, you put the seat back down after you’re done.”

  He grinned at me, and I felt my heart skip—a faint reminder of just how much he still affected my flawed, human heart. “I’ll try, but even Mom couldn’t get me to do that.”

  “Come on, you gotta get home and talk to your dad, let him know what’s going on. My dad went over to talk to him, but I don’t know what happened. He didn’t tell me anything when he came home,” I explained as I pulled him up off the bed and out of the house.

  We walked side-by-side, our steps silent on the lawn between our homes that had never been separated by fence or gates. The snow that had fallen the night before had melted quickly and left the ground soggy and dangerously slippery.

  “Whoops!” I shouted, as I felt my footing loosen on a patch of grass that was exceptionally wet. I grabbed onto his arm as I nearly toppled headfirst into a planter sitting beneath one of the first story windows.

  “God, Grace, you’re such a klutz!” Graham kidded, though his tone was anything but amused. He was nervous, and I knew he was as apprehensive about this as I was. The house smelled like old beer as we walked through the door. That sweet, stale aroma that kind of reminds you that you need to wash your hair.

  I don’t remember the last time I had actually walked through Graham’s house, but it wasn’t like I remembered. Of course, I don’t remember picture frames littering the ground, or beer bottles and empty liquor bottles covering every flat surface either. This was a recycler’s dream. I tried counting the number of empty bottles as we walked towards the kitchen, but I lost track after I hit fifty. There were just too many and it felt like they were breeding, spawning as more appeared with each step, each movement towards the back of the house.

  “Dad?” Graham called out. He flipped the light on and I groaned while he stood silent. The kitchen was disturbingly void of any space—each little scrap of spare air was occupied by a bottle of some kind or another, all in varying sizes. Bottles of varying sizes, shapes, and colors were stacked on the countertops, the kitchen table, the chairs, and the floor. It would have made for a great art piece if the reality of it weren’t so tragic.

  Graham turned away and walked past me towards the stairs. I started to follow him, unwilling to let him search upstairs alone, but he put his hand on my shoulder and shook his head. “I have to do this by myself, Grace.” I opened my mouth to argue but he shook his head, and I bit my tongue to keep my words contained. What would he find upstairs that I couldn’t see?

  The smell in the house was starting to make me nauseas; I had to go and open a window before I lost my dinner. The kitchen window seemed the best place to start. I tried to raise it, but it was hopelessly stuck. Richard had neglected the house for so long, I was amazed that the door had even opened. How long had this been going on? And why hadn’t Graham told me?

  “He’s not here,” his voice said behind me. I turned around and saw the look of dismay on his face, mixed with confusion and fear. I knew that look so well. I had worn it myself. And I had been wrong—it didn’t look good on anyone.

  “Where do you think he is?” I asked as he once again took in the graveyard of empty bottles before us. He shook his head, not knowing and probably not wanting to even begin to think about it either. “Well, let’s get your stuff then and head back to my house. I don’t think I can stay in this funk any longer.”

  With what looked like despair and reservation, Graham headed back upstairs to pack a bag. I couldn’t begin to think about what exactly was going on with his father, but the drinking, the enormous evidence of it was astounding and frighteningly real. This wasn’t some after-school special, or a PSA on television. This was real life, and Graham had been living it for a very long time. And he hadn’t told anyone.

  He hadn’t told me.

  I shook my head at the selfishness my thought was laced with. Why did I need to know? Something this private and painful shouldn’t have to be revealed to anyone…but the guilt from knowing that I could have helped him sooner and didn’t was slowly starting to creep up in me. There was a lot that Graham didn’t know about me, a lot that he’d be very upset about learning, so I couldn’t hold this against him. He needed my support, not my complaints.

  “Okay, let’s go.” I looked up and saw him standing next to me, his backpack slung over his shoulder and a baseball cap perched on his head.

  We walked out of the house, Graham carefully closing the door, sealing in the stale air and the sea of glass behind us, and silently walked back towards mine. Graham laid his backpack on the ground next to the couch while I went upstairs to grab some pillows and a blanket for him to use. His mood was somber when I returned.

  “I left him a note, letting him know where I was,” he mumbled, the exhaustion showing on his face and in his tone. I wrapped my arms around him and squeezed him as tightly as I could.

  “It’s going to be okay, Graham. You’re not alone in this,” I said reassuringly, hoping that the words would find some place inside of him to burrow and take root.

  I reluctantly let him go and watched as he plopped himself down on the couch and stretched his length out. He closed his eyes and I smiled. It had to be okay. Things weren’t supposed to not work out for the people you loved.

  I flipped off the living room light and headed up the stairs towards my room.

  “Hey, Grace?”

  I stopped on the fourth step and bent my head down so I could hear him better. “Yeah?”

  “I love you.”

  I grinned. “Ditto.”

  RETURN

  The feeling that I carried with me as I headed towards my room was completely different than anything I had felt before. It felt like completion. The final cracks had been repaired. It kept the smile plastered on my face as I went through my usual routine to get ready for bed.

  When I walked into my room, Robert was sitting cross-legged on my bed, a slight frown distorting the beauty of his lips. He knew that Graham was downstairs on the couch, and he wasn’t thrilled. “I don’t want to hear your complaints about it, Robert,” I whispered as I climbed into bed. I pulled the covers up over my bare knees and turned to look at him, ready to hear the arguments I knew he was going to make anyway.

  I don’t see why he couldn’t stay at home. He’s not being abused, and his father isn’t even there right now. His guilt and your compassion shouldn’t be enough reason for him to be here, Grace.

  I felt my mouth push to the side, my expression doing nothing to fully convey just how annoyed I was that his mental spelunking hadn’t been enough to help him root out the whole truth. “It wasn’t my idea that he stay here, Robert; it was Janice’s. The thought hadn’t even crossed my mind, but I’m not going to let him stay in that house. You didn’t see it. It’s-“

  Robert placed his fingers over my lips, silencing the slowly increasing volume of my rant. I can see it in your head, Grace. It is disturbing, truly. I wasn’t aware that he’d been going through so much. His mind is a lot like yours, only he uses random thoughts to hide how he really feels. I believe it’s so he won’t have to think about any o
f it. But, I won’t tell you that I approve of him sleeping under the same roof as you are.

  I rolled my eyes at his thoughts. “You’re acting quite protective of someone you treat like a little sister, Robert.”

  I saw his eyes flash with anger, and I admit that I enjoyed it. I was tired of him playing the good angel. Though I had been frightened and distrusting of his dark calling, there were moments I wish that a little bit of that darkness would come out so that he’d stop being so controlled and contained.

  Grace. This isn’t just about me, you know.

  I snorted in disbelief. “Oh really? Then please, tell me how this isn’t just about you. Tell me how I’m benefiting from this little arrangement because from where I’m sitting, it looks like I’m getting the short end of the stick.”

  Robert took my hand and placed it against his face, sighing with contentment. I sighed, too. It never felt normal, the way my skin tingled whenever we made contact. It always vibrated with an unseen energy that wound around and through me, a current of pure feeling that never felt like enough.

  That is exactly how I feel, Grace. But it’s worse for me, because I feel it from you as well. You don’t know how incredibly blissful it is, to feel your softness, your warmth against my flesh. He held my hand still as he turned his face inward and kissed the palm of my hand. I heard the intake of my breath, but it fought for a spot with the pounding of my heart as it thrummed inside of my chest; the current rippled all through me and I had to bite my tongue to keep from groaning out loud.

  “You’re going to kill me, Robert. I swear on everything that’s valuable, you’re going to kill me dead.”

  Robert let out a snort, and I knew that my exaggeration had done nothing to sway him to my cause. You can always agree to my changing you, and we won’t have that problem.