The Theory of Second Best (Cake #2)

by J. Bengtsson

  “Okay, sorry, that was a dick move to blame you. Don’t be mad. Let me start over. So…” Something caught my eye and I stopped talking. Had his hand just moved? His pointer finger… it moved. Or was I just seeing things? “Jake? Are you awake?” I grabbed his hand. “Squeeze my hand if you can hear me.”

  I waited. Nothing. Had I just imagined that?

  “Jake?” I called to him again, but this time got right up next to his face and blasted his name in his ear. He didn’t flinch. I sat back and stared at him for the longest time, willing him to give me a sign that he was in there somewhere.

  After several minutes of false hope, I continued my confession. “In my defense, Jake, I didn’t know he’d be there. How could I have known that? I mean, he just appeared out of nowhere. I saw him first and panicked. I remember the confusion in your eyes when he grabbed you. You didn’t even see him coming. I should have warned you, but it happened too fast. One minute we were fine. The next…” I stopped again, feeling the emotions overwhelm me. “The way he played us against each other, threatening to hurt the other if we didn’t obey. It was like he knew we were brothers. How would he know that? I mean, if it was just random, how would he have known?”

  That part of the story had never made sense to me. The common assumption was that the kidnapping had been completely indiscriminate, and that Ray had seen us heading toward the business park and had followed us there.

  “We were just in the wrong place at the wrong time, that’s what they said… the place I brought us to. But if that were true, how would he have known we were brothers? How would he have known we would do anything to protect each other? It certainly wasn’t by observing us at the business park because, if you remember, we spent the majority of our time there arguing over who had the better jump off the stairs. I did, by the way.”

  I stopped and watched his face for a reaction. If he were listening, that last bit would have swayed him to open his eyes. He’d always hated losing to me. But Jake didn’t move, so I continued.

  “Anyway, I guess it doesn’t matter how it happened, just that it did. What I remember most about that day was your eyes. You were talking to me through them and it was like I understood exactly what you were saying. I mean, we didn’t speak, but I knew what you wanted. At least I think I did. Maybe I read it all wrong. Maybe you weren’t telling me what I thought you were because you never talk about that day. Why? Jake, why did it have to come to this for us to talk about what happened? I have so many questions. Why did you want me to leave you there? Why did you tell me to run? If you knew he was going to take you, why didn’t we make a stand and fight? Maybe we could have stopped him together. What did you know that I didn’t? Did he say something to you?”

  I could feel myself getting heated, and had to pull back and take a few deep breaths. When I thought of that day, it brought up a lot of negative feelings and one of them was anger… toward Jake. His silence had trapped me in a sort of purgatory. I couldn’t stay in the past because it was too painful, but I couldn’t move forward because of the guilt. If he had just screamed at me, blamed me, beat the living shit out of me… anything would have been preferable to his silence.

  “I tried to help you. You know I did. He slammed my head into the concrete. He broke my arm. But you could have run when he was holding me down. Why didn’t you? You could have saved yourself too, asshole. Why did you have to put it all on me? Why did you make me run instead?”

  The more I talked, the more questions I had, and the more confused I became. He had to have known something I didn’t. It was the only explanation. Would I have to go through the rest of my life not knowing? How could I ever let it go if I didn’t have the closure I obviously needed? I searched his face for answers. Nothing. He was just blank. Frustrated, I drew his eyelid open with my finger.

  “Are you in there?” I asked. “Jake? Wake up. Open your eyes.”

  Nothing. That’s what I always got from Jake. Nothing! Rage bubbled up inside and I let loose. “Wake the fuck up, Jake. You owe me something.” I stared angrily into his clear, unfocused eye. “Do you hear me? WAKE UP! Why are you doing this to me?”

  Just saying those words made me cringe. My selfishness knew no bounds. I closed his eye and smoothed his hospital gown down.

  “Sorry. Sorry, I didn’t mean that. You know I didn’t. I love you. You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m just so tired, Jake. I guess I just… I guess I thought I’d have more time to get the answers, like our whole lives – but that never works out for us, does it?”

  After running out of questions that might never be answered and feeling more exhausted than I had in a long time, I laid my head on his bed.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered, my lids heavy with sleep. I didn’t remember closing them.

  His eyes pleaded with me to go. I shook my head no. I wouldn’t leave him. ‘Run!’ He jerked his head toward the parking lot behind me, desperation clear on his face. ‘Run.’ So I did. As fast as I could, I ran away from them. I could hear Ray chasing me, threatening to shoot. Then Jake’s muffled screaming came from behind the gag. “Run!” The footsteps suddenly reversed, moving away from me. I turned, and Jake had taken off in the opposite direction, forcing Ray to make a decision. Him or me? Ray chose Jake. And I lived.

  “Kyle?” My mom woke me at seven in the morning. I opened my groggy eyes. “You look terrible.”

  “Thanks,” I mumbled, rubbing my heavy lids.

  “I’m worried about you.”

  “I know. You tell me everyday.”

  “And I mean it everyday. Do you want to talk?”

  “You know I don’t.”

  Mom sighed. “Kyle. You can’t keep going like this. It’s not healthy.”

  “I’m an adult and not your problem anymore.”

  “I never said you were a problem.”

  “Not today,” I challenged.

  “Not ever.”

  I scoffed. We both knew that wasn’t true. Sure, our family was falling apart as Jake lay in a coma, but this was child’s play compared to where we’d all collectively fallen that month Jake had gone missing. It had brought out the worst in every one of us. But my mother, in particular, directed her vitriol toward me and made it clear that I was to blame for Jake’s kidnapping. Maybe she hadn’t said it in so many words, but the implication was clear. My actions caused the hellfire that rained down upon our family. I was twelve

  “I’m going to the apartment.”

  Mom touched my forearm and our eyes met. Hers were filled with tears and regret. She had a lot of that. I’d heard “I’m sorry” from her mouth more times than I could count, and although I’d long since forgiven her betrayal, I’d never forgotten. In times of stress and anger, her guilt was the weapon I used against her. I pulled away and walked from the room.

  The text came in at 2:21pm. It had to ding twice before I woke up and fumbled with my phone. I read the words but they didn’t immediately register with me. Then, suddenly my brain turned on and I bolted upright, focusing on the text.

  He’s awake!!!!

  A litany of messages followed, each more shocking than the next: He’s alert; trying to communicate; miracle. Jake was awake! I crazily yanked my legs into my jeans as I tried to get my shoes on at the same time, but I got all tangled up and had to force myself to slow down so I could get myself dressed just enough to make it out the door. With my shirt in hand, I ran the whole way, whizzing by hospital staff, patients, and visitors alike. “Slow down” or “No running” or “Put on some clothes” followed me down every hallway, but I didn’t listen; my only goal was getting to him. His hand? I hadn’t imagined it. He’d moved it last night! Then a thought gripped me, causing my stomach to twist in regret. If he’d been awake last night, then he’d heard everything. Oh, shit, was he going to be pissed!

  By the time I got to his room, several family members were already there, gathered around the bed. Mom was leaning down, smiling as she stroked his hair. Dad looked back when he heard me come
in and put his hand out to me, guiding me forward. Suddenly, I was scared. Would he still be Jake? Slowly I stepped forward, and my brother turned his head toward me. Our eyes met, and there was intensity in his. He wanted something. I wormed my way to his side and grabbed his hand.

  “Last night, were you awake? Could you hear me? Did you move your hand?”

  When Jake nodded his head, I thought I might pass out. His hand gripped mine and he pulled me closer. He mouthed something, but no words came out. Thankfully, I knew a thing or two about Jake’s non-verbal communication, and I immediately understood what he was asking for.

  “Casey’s on her way.”

  When Casey arrived, I saw a calm fall over Jake. He reached for her and she was in his arms in seconds. The moment was so private and so incredibly heartfelt that my parents ushered us out to give them some privacy. As we waited in the hallway, I was forced to watch Grace tell anyone who asked how Jake had awoken on her watch. She acted like she had done something miraculous, yet I was the one who’d spent every night the past week at his side. I was the one who’d poured my soul out to him and hadn’t slept more than six hours in a row for nearly a month. And then in waltzes a well-rested Grace who spends twenty minutes chattering on and on about all kinds of worthless nonsense, shows him a picture of Chuck the kitten, and he opens his damn eyes for her. Really, Jake? Come on!

  I leaned against the wall, feeling dizzy. After the text came in, my heart had been beating so fast. Add my sprint through the hospital and lack of food to the mix, so by the time I’d finally rested for a minute, my body just shut down. Emma put her hand on my shoulder.

  “Are you okay?” she asked. “You look pale.”

  “I’m okay,” I replied, but began sliding down the wall nonetheless.

  “Someone get a chair,” Emma called out, still gripping my shoulder. Quinn came to my side and kept me from falling to the floor. My dad slipped the chair under me and I sank down into it. Once I was sitting, Emma took my pulse. “It’s low. If you don’t start feeling better, you’re going to have to lie on the floor and put your feet up.”

  “Just give me a second,” I spat at her, throwing my hand up rudely in her face. She blinked her surprise, but instead of insulting me back or stomping off in a huff, Emma ignored my insolence and stayed firmly by my side. Slowly, my head stopped spinning.

  She took my pulse again and patted my shoulder. “It’s a little better now. Just relax a few more minutes. I think you’re a little shocked. Your eyes are all cray-cray,” she smiled, teasing me.

  I took a couple more deep breaths and said, “Thanks. Sorry for biting your head off.”

  “It’s okay.”

  Quinn brought a chair over for Emma, and she and I sat next to each other in the hall of the hospital, our heads leaning against the wall, just staring off into space.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  “For what?”

  Silence. I turned to look at my sister. She was staring straight ahead.

  “You got a raw deal, Kyle.”

  “Huh?”

  “After the kidnapping… you know what I’m talking about.” Emma’s voice cracked.

  “Oh,” I quickly looked away. Why did she have to bring that up now? Hadn’t I already done enough sharing with Jake last night?

  “I didn’t know how to help you… and Mom and Dad, they were, well… you know. I guess I just want you to know I’m sorry, for everything.”

  “I don’t blame you, Em.”

  She turned her head and our eyes met. The tears in hers told me she didn’t quite believe me. I reached over and grabbed her hand. She smiled weakly and then sighed so heavily I wondered how long that breath had been trapped inside her body before making such a dramatic exit.

  “We’re all screwed up, aren’t we?” I asked.

  She laughed, but it was a bitter sound. “Oh, Kyle, you have no idea.”

  I’d meant it in a general way and was surprised at my sister’s reaction to the question. She’d always seemed so in control and focused. After the kidnapping, it was Emma who’d basically been forced to take over the parenting duties for Grace and Quinn and to make the dinners and run the household. Holy shit. I’d never really given it a second thought before, but now that I considered it more carefully, that had been a lot of damn responsibility dumped on her shoulders at sixteen years of age. I glanced at Grace, who was a year younger now than Emma had been when it all went down. She seemed so young. I couldn’t imagine her taking on the jobs that Emma had. All of a sudden, I saw my sister in a different light. I’d always just assumed she’d escaped the curse that seemed to follow Keith, Jake and me, but now I wasn’t so sure. Was her Little Miss Perfect act all a façade? Was Emma just as damaged as the rest of us?

  Jake improved hour to hour, and by nightfall his speech was back, although at times he sounded like a drunken soldier. It helped that Casey was there, babbling away. Slow and sluggish at first, Jake rapidly improved, probably because he was forced to keep up with his girlfriend’s endless declarations of undying love. The doctors were in and out doing random tests, and they were amazed by the speed of his recovery. He still had a long way to go, especially with his knee, but it was clear that Jake had dodged a very dangerous bullet.

  My parents, Casey, and I stayed by Jake’s side all night. Every time he’d fall asleep, panic would grip us all. Would he open his eyes again? Was it all a dream? But a few hours later, he’d awaken feeling even better than before. Slowly but surely, the tension eased as we realized that Jake was going to be okay.

  Sometime the next afternoon, my parents left to get some food. Jake was feeling good, and he’d convinced Casey to go home and get a good night’s sleep before an exam she had the next morning. After she left was the first time we’d been alone.

  “You want to talk?” Jake asked.

  “About what?”

  “I think you know.”

  “Are you seriously telling me that you heard what I was saying… in a coma?”

  “I don’t think I was in it anymore. I’m pretty sure I woke up a few days before I actually opened my eyes. I don’t know what happened, Kyle. All I can say is that I heard a lot of stuff. Some things I don’t remember, other things are fuzzy, but some of it is clear,” he said in a knowing way, making me understand that my midnight rant had been one of those things.

  “Okay, so in my defense, you need to know I wasn’t blaming you. I was just angry and frustrated.”

  “I know. I’m not mad. Your anger is justified. We should have talked about it,” he sighed, shaking his head. “My silence… it was never meant to punish you. I didn’t even know you felt that way. There’s just too much I’m holding onto, and I have to let it go or I’m never going to have a stable life. I need to go back into therapy, and I think you do too.”

  “You think?” I blurted out, with a crazy look on my face. We both laughed. Damn, we were a pitiful pair.

  “I guess what you need to know is that it wasn’t your fault,” Jake said.

  I looked down at my hands, which instantly began to shake. Were we really going to do this?

  “I should have told you sooner. What happened that day… it wasn’t random. He’d been following me. If it hadn’t happened at the business park, it would have happened on the way home from school or somewhere else.”

  “You don’t know that,” I replied, unconvinced.

  “Oh, trust me, I know that.”

  “How?” I asked, desperation clear in my voice. Jake didn’t respond right away. Please. Please. Tell me how you know that.

  “Remember when we went to the mall a couple days before the kidnapping, and Toby took a swim in the fountain?”

  I nodded. “I actually pushed him in.”

  “I know,” he grinned. “Anyway, Ray was there. He followed us home, and my fate was sealed. So stop giving yourself so much damn credit. You had nothing to do with it.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “How do you think
I know that? He told me.”

  I wasn’t sure how to respond or how to feel about his admission, but if it were true, it would absolve me of so much guilt.

  “Did you talk a lot… to him?”

  Jake shrugged. “He talked. I listened. I didn’t have much of a choice since I was a captive audience.”

  “Did he ever say anything about me?”

  Jake looked away. I waited, hoping his confessions would keep coming. And they did.

  “You were never supposed to live. He was furious that you did.”

  The expression on Jake’s face told me that he’d paid the price for my escape.

  “Why did you tell me to run?”

  “I didn’t know if he was trying to terrify me or what, but while he was cuffing me, Ray whispered in my ear that I’d better say goodbye because he was about to blow a hole through the back of your head. I wasn’t being brave, Kyle. I wasn’t acting the hero and sacrificing my life so you could live. You were seconds away from being shot dead.”

  I sat there in stunned disbelief. My hands were white from gripping the side rails on his bed.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, studying me with concern.

  “I… yeah, I guess,” I answered then looked up and caught his eye. “Would it have killed you to tell me this years ago?”

  Jake shook his head. “I had no idea you cared.”

  “Shut up. You knew I struggled with it… with the guilt.”

  “I know. I’m sorry. I guess I was just so focused on myself I didn’t give you much thought. I swear, Kyle, I’m going to be a better brother to you. I’ve treated you like shit for years, but that all ends now. You aren’t going to be my punching bag anymore, I promise.”

  “I actually didn’t really mind being your punching bag,” I admitted, a smile spreading across my face. “I got lots of free shit.”

  “That’s true. Maybe I’ll still throw a few punches here and there if that would make you happy.”

  “I’d really like that.”