The Interview

by J.P. Yager

There wouldn’t be anything to worry about, except coming back down a few hours later.

  As his hands reached for the drug, the phone rang. It startled him enough to stop reaching, but he wasn’t curious enough to see who it was. He let it ring out. His answering machine spun to life.

  “Hey man, it’s me. I tried calling earlier. If you want any more, I’m dry until tomorrow. Sorry.” The machine clicked, rolled the tape back, and then returned to its mechanical sleep.

  When did Vinnie call? He asked himself. He walked over and hit play.

  “Yo, it’s me. It’s about 12:30. Someone just called and said he wanted all I had. If you want some, get here quick.” It beeped and ran the new message he’d just heard.

  Haden cursed his luck. He would’ve got more to sell that night if not for... the meeting. Now he was stuck alone in his apartment with more questions than answers and nothing to do.

  He brought his attention back to what he did have. Three were still enough for just him. He could resupply tomorrow.

  The phone rang again.

  Not wanting to miss Vinnie again, he answered on the second ring. “Hello?”

  “Mr. Maxwell, that would be most unwise.”

  Haden slammed the phone back in its cradle and stepped away from it. As he sat back down on his couch, a loud knock came at his door. It was as bad as someone kicking it in. Then, just as suddenly, it stopped and a note slipped under the door.

  He tried to convince himself it was from his landlord. He was behind on his rent. His legs wouldn’t move. He just stood there looking at the note on the ground. It was a piece of paper like the ones from the woman’s files. An outside gust blew it further into view and it flipped over so he could see the writing: “You can’t run from this.”

  He grabbed his coat, climbed out his window, and dropped three stories down into a giant snow buildup. This was his rehearsed, drug raid escape plan. Without his keys, he would have to get a spare from the super upon his return. His main concern was proving the note wrong. He ran as fast as he could.

  ●

  Several blocks away, Haden collapsed against a storefront wall. He sucked in freezing gulps of air. His shirt was soaked with sweat which only made him colder. He didn’t care if he froze to death at the moment though. He just wanted to get away.

  Not wanting to exert himself further, he began walking. He kept trying to get his breath back as he wondered where exactly was he going.

  He found himself going toward his mother’s house. He wasn’t sure why, but the thought gave him a comfort he hadn’t felt in a long time.

  He looked down at his watch. It read 1:51.

  As best he could, Haden made it across the snowy sidewalks with the strengthening wind in his face. That made the trip much longer than normal. By the time he turned the last corner and stood before his mother’s house, the time was 2:20.

  The house was dilapidated. The paint had long ago cracked and split. The rain gutter was hanging off the roof, dragging in the wind. The screen door was lying across the front porch like it had been discarded and left for dead.

  Haden went up the creaky wooden steps and reached under the second planter from the door. The spare key was there. He didn’t bother knocking and unlocked the door.

  Once inside he saw things had worsened since his last visit. The place looked like hoarders had thrown a drug paraphernalia party. It had an odor of rotten food, smoke and rodents.

  Haden walked through trash piles, not bothering to call out as he went. He pushed aside a rusted bike blocking the stairs and went up. He covered his nose as he passed the dead body of his mom’s cat, Pickles. His skeletal frame displayed death by starvation. When he reached the top he turned past his old room and went into the master suite.

  His mother was lying across the bed with a rubber tube tied around her arm and a needle protruding from it. She was breathing, though it was faint. Like Pickles, her own frame had grown horribly thin. Her cheeks had caved in. Her skin had lost all color.

  It was too difficult to see her in this condition. Memories of what she had once been came to mind.

  She had been beautiful once, young and full of life. Her smile would light up a room. Everything her children did made her laugh. But nothing brought out the light in her like Haden’s father. Haden could remember him coming home from his law firm. Before he could announce his entrance, his mother had tackled him down.

  “I missed you.” She would laugh.

  Haden and his sister Amy would make gagging sounds and run off like children do. Theirs was a house of love. That was until the day Haden’s father was killed.

  His father had been a successful prosecutor. He had put countless criminals away. It was one of these men, a drug runner, that had shot his dad when he got paroled. The criminal’s punishment came swift. He was put to death before Haden was old enough to understand what was going on. He only knew the pain of missing his father.

  Then Kent Blessing came charming his snaky way in, taking advantage of a lonely widow. At first it was all smiles, presents and trips to Disneyland. It was his mom who paid with all the money his father had made coupled with his life insurance. Unfortunately, when the honeymoon ended, so did his kindness. His mother in those days didn’t have the strength to do what she knew was right. He threatened to take all her money and leave her children with nothing. When his dad had died, her spirit had left with him. Kent’s abuse went unchecked until someone else Haden loved dearly took their own life.

  He held his mother’s hand. His resentment toward her had only grown after all these years. She had blown through what money she was able to get from her divorce and probably had little left. He set his anger aside and looked at her, saying the only thing that came to mind. “I forgive you,” then added, “I hope you forgive me for abandoning you.”

  She seemed to stir for a moment, then went still, back into oblivion.

  He almost got up and left her like he always did. A punishment she gave herself and he silently endorsed. But now he saw it as running away. He went back to her bedside, picked up the phone and called an ambulance. He realized he was making a new choice.

  ●

  After the paramedics rushed her off, Haden was alone again. He locked up and kept the key. His mom was finally getting the medical care she needed. This brought his mind to someone else he’d neglected for a long time.

  Snowflakes began dropping into the wind and he fought through it. The storm was gathering strength. He had borrowed a scarf from his mom and wrapped it tightly around his face.

  It was a difficult walk, but he made it between the angel statues of the cemetery gate by 4:16. The caretakers had taken the time to shovel the rows of graves clean. He thought that considerate seeing they were about to be buried under snow again.

  Haden found his little sister’s grave next his father’s. He brushed the snow aside so he could see the print underneath: ‘Amy Maxwell, 1984-1996, God bring her peace.’ It looked so cold and barren; he wished he had brought a flower to put on it.

  “I’m sorry I haven’t come to visit you. It’s been hard.” He let a hot tear roll out with his long suppressed pain. His guilt seeped through after all these years. “I should have done something.” He fell on his knees in front of the grave and rested his head against it. “I should have stopped you.” He looked back to that day he couldn’t forget.

  In a pink room adorned with Barbie and My Little Ponies, Amy sat crying. Haden walked in and saw her clutching her face with her little hands. She turned away trying to hide her shame, failing to conceal the large splash of red across her cheek.

  Most would ask the obvious question, “What happened?” But this was an abusive household and the rules were different.

  “Are you all right?” He asked instead.

  “No.” She dropped her hands and showed him. The red was only the outlines of what only a severe backhand could do
to a young child. “Do I look okay?”

  Haden looked away this time. He felt foolish. He had heard it happen before Kent stormed out to get more beer. Their mother was wherever she went to live in denial.

  As Haden was thinking of leaving her alone, unable to solve this problem, Amy grabbed his arm. When he stood before her again she said simply, “Hadie, I’m going to kill myself.”

  “What?” Haden didn’t think a slap in the face warranted taking your life.

  “I’m not strong enough to stop him. It has to be this way.” She had the darkest look a child could have then Kent came home and Haden ran out fearful he would be next in line. He was fourteen at the time; old enough to know what he needed to do, but too afraid to act.

  Haden was looking at the grave once more. His whole life had been about running. He let his mom destroy herself. He allowed his sister to kill herself. By not acting, he had allowed Kent to ruin all their lives.

  “I’m sorry. I hope I can make this right.” He told the cold gray stone.

  He stood up, wiping away his tears lest they freeze there. Then he began putting tracks in the snow once more. He didn’t know what he was supposed to do, but he knew where he needed to go. It was after five and he had a lot of ground to cover.

  ●

  A two mile walk through the growing blizzard, proved harder than he thought. His anger pushed him to dig deeper. His regret prodded him to go further. His pain wouldn’t let him forget