The Melody of Silence: Crescendo

by LP Tvorik

  Mr. Winger’s church was a little more subdued. The only ostentatious feature was the large, stained-glass window at the front of the room. The ceilings were vaulted, but both walls and ceiling were constructed entirely of white plaster and pine beams. The floor was stained cement. Even the preacher himself was a picture of modesty, in jeans and a polo shirt. He was squirrelled away in his tiny office in the basement of the church, which smelled of must and old books.

  “I suppose my daughter sent you to beat some sense into me?” he asked with a glare, when I knocked on the open door to his office. It wasn’t an unreasonable question, I guess. Tim had gotten in a few good shots two nights ago. Between the scraped up knuckles and the bruises, I looked like exactly the violence-prone asshole everyone thought I was.

  “You know Alex wouldn’t send me to do her dirty work,” I said, letting myself into the office without invitation. “If she wanted to beat you up she’d do it herself.”

  A smile tugged at one corner of the preacher’s mouth before his lips pinched together and the glare returned. With a sigh, he gestured at the chair opposite his desk and I sank into it. All of a sudden, I was nervous. What was I thinking, getting in the middle of their family business? Alex would kill me if she found out.

  “Alex doesn’t know I’m here,” I said.

  Her father cocked his head, frowning as he studied me. “So you just decided to involve yourself in our private affairs of your own free will, then?” he asked, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest.

  “Uh…” I hesitated. “Yeah, I guess. I mean, yes. I did. She’s really upset. I thought—”

  “You thought you’d just swing by and talk me out of years of hopes and dreams for my baby girl’s future.”

  “Not really,” I said, shaking my head. What in the hell had I been thinking? This man loved my girl more than life itself, and he still wouldn’t listen to her reasoning. How the hell had I convinced myself that he would listen to me, a guy he didn’t even like?

  “So why are you here?” he asked, sitting forward and clasping his hands on the desk in front of him.

  “I guess... “ I frowned, staring at my hands before looking up and meeting his eye. “I guess I just wanted to tell you that she’s really upset. She misses you. But she hasn’t once talked about changing her plans. She’s going to go to Caltech, with or without your blessing. So if you think freezing her out is going to change her mind, you’re wrong. She’s already calling around, trying to find work-study programs. She’s applied for financial aid. She asked me to drive her out there, if you won’t when the time comes. Nothing is going to stop her, and I figured if I was her dad I’d wanna know that. You’re either going to send her to California alone, without her family, or you’re going to send her with support and a home to come back to during the summer. If it was me about to lose her, I’d want someone to warn me.”

  Every word I spoke had the voice in my head screaming louder and louder. Shut up shut up shut up!!! But I forced myself to finish and then fled in the silence that followed my diatribe. Alex’s father stared at me, his eyes stony, and the thick air of the church began to close around my head, suffocating me. I stood, cleared my throat, nodded awkwardly, and left before he had a chance to respond.

  That was early March. In late March, Alex and I had our first fight. Two weeks after my talk with her dad, I arrived to pick her up for school and I knew the second she opened the door that I was in trouble. She glared at me across the expanse of her front lawn, and her steps as she marched toward my car were so heavy I swear I felt the earth quake.

  “What the hell,” she hissed, climbing into the cab and slamming the door behind her so hard I flinched. We’d never fought before, and suddenly I was terrified. I knew what a fight looked like— screaming and flying objects and one or both parties leaving in the back of a squad car. Between my dad’s death and the day the state pulled us out, mom went through six boyfriends, and every one of those relationships had ended with the first fight.

  “What’s the matter?” I asked, my mouth dry, praying on the off chance she might be mad about something completely different. Something unrelated to me and my transgressions.

  “You talked to my dad without telling me?” she snapped, jamming her seatbelt into the lock and crossing her arms over her chest.

  “A while ago, yeah,” I said, hurriedly pulling out onto the street. Alex was safety conscious, so long as I was driving, she wouldn’t kill me or hit me, and she couldn’t leave. I resolved to drive to the end of the earth if that’s what it took to see this through without losing her.

  “You mind telling me what possessed you to stick your nose in my family business?” she said, tossing her bag on the floor by her feet.

  “You were upset,” I said lamely.

  “Yeah I was upset!” she said, slapping her hands on her thighs to emphasize her point, and it was all I could do not to cringe away from her. What if she got so angry she forgot about safety? My second set of foster parents after Jake left got in a fight on the road, once. We were on the highway, driving back from an appointment with my caseworker after I got suspended for fighting, and they started arguing about whether to keep me. That turned into a larger fight about bills, which turned into her smacking the shit out of him and him shoving her back with a hand wrapped around her throat. The car swerved all over the road and I remember wishing it would just roll over and kill us all.

  I didn’t want to die today, though, and I definitely didn’t want to roll the car and hurt Alex. I wanted her to calm down. I wanted to keep her. “Al, I’m sorry,” I said. Whatever she needed to hear, I’d say it. “I shouldn’t have gone behind your back.”

  “You’re right you shouldn’t have!” she snapped. “I don’t need you to solve my problems for me, Nate. You’re my boyfriend, not my bodyguard. You can’t just run around beating up my enemies for me. That’s not how life works.”

  “I didn’t lay a finger on your dad!” I argued, panicked. What the hell? She thought I’d—

  “No, but you did beat up half the male population of our school!”

  Oh, fuck.

  “They were talking shit, Al.”

  “Yeah, I know. That doesn’t mean you had to go all mob justice on them.”

  “You were worried about what people would say. You told me—”

  “Yeah, I was worried, Nate. I had every right to be worried. But I need to be able to tell you my problems without worrying that you’re going to try to solve them with your fists. You’re like a fucking guided missile with no off switch! I can’t even vent to you without wondering if I’m putting people in harm’s way!” Her voice was loud, and thick with tears of frustration.

  The explosion was coming. The fight had escalated, and now we were reaching the boiling point. I could feel it. My skin prickled as her anger mingled with the diesel fumes in the cab of my shitty old truck. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her arm move toward me, and I jerked away on instinct, packing myself into the corner of my seat, hands tight on the steering wheel. I needed to pull over so I didn’t wreck when she started beating on me, but we were on a four-lane road with no shoulder. Fuck. Fuck I was gonna get us both killed.

  “Nate, what the hell?” Alex exclaimed. When her fist never hit me, I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye and saw her tucked back into her own side of the truck. Her hand was pulled tight against her chest like she’d just touched something hot.

  “Sorry,” I choked out. I’d swerved into the left lane in my distracted attempt to get away from her. Fortunately there were no other cars, and I pulled us back into the right lane.

  “Pull over.”

  “We’re almost to school,” I said, trying to pull a breath into lungs that refused to work. “Can we just finish this once we get there?”

  “Pull the fucking truck over, Nate. Now,” she said again, her voice pitched low in warni
ng. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

  I turned off on the next available side street and pulled into an empty furniture store parking lot. As soon as we stopped moving I yanked on the parking brake and let myself out, desperate for fresh air. You almost got her killed, you fucking idiot.

  “Nate!” Alex chased after me as I strode across the parking lot toward the furniture store. It was still closed, the windows dark. When I reached it, I leaned against the wall, back to the parking lot, pressing my palms to the cool, pock-marked surface of the cinderblock and staring at the chipped white paint. My lungs still didn’t want to inflate.

  “Nate!” Alex said from right behind me, and I jerked around to face her, pressing my back to the wall. She flinched away, and that was just another drop in the bucket of ‘reasons this was never going to work.’ “What is going on with you?” she asked, taking a cautious step forward, shaking her head. “You almost got us killed.”

  I couldn’t even find words. Part of me wanted to explain, but I was scared to speak. What if I said something wrong and ignited another fight? Alex and I bickered constantly, but we never fought. I’d thought we never would fight. I’d thought we were safe from that.

  “You’re scaring the shit out of me,” Alex said, closing the distance between us. Behind her, the truck was still running, loud and clunky. I closed my eyes and tried to breathe in rhythm with the clunks. Three clunks in. Four clunks out. Three in. Four out. Alex’s scent filled my nose and her hands settled tentatively on my shoulders. Breathing got a little easier.

  “Sorry,” I managed, forcing the word through the narrow passageway of my throat. I tipped my head back against the cinderblock and stared at the sky, trying to anchor myself back in reality. Miss Meg had taught me this stupid trick, decades before, and I’d been using it ever since on those rare occasions when I needed to tamp down the emotion instead of channeling it into war.

  Yellow clouds against a green-blue backdrop. Sharp morning sunlight bouncing blindingly off the metal bumper of my truck. Cars speeding down the road beyond the parking lot, rushing to work and school and errands.

  Finally grounded, I lowered my gaze to Alex’s face.

  She didn’t look pissed anymore. Just scared. “Sorry,” I said, again. Was that the only word left in my vocabulary?

  “Stop apologizing and just tell me what happened,” Alex said, stepping back, hands sliding off my shoulders. “Are you okay?”

  I nodded jerkily and wished I had the courage to look her in the eyes. “Yeah.”

  Her brow furrowed, carving delicate lines into the smooth skin, and she propped her hands on her hips and cocked her head. “Do you get panic attacks very often?”

  Humiliation surged through me and I lowered my gaze to the ground. “No,” I lied. How could I explain that every fight I’d been in was just… all of that—all of what had just happened in my head—pushed outward? Every day, angel. It happens every fucking day.

  “Why did you freak out?”

  Staring at the toes of my sneakers, I cast about in my head, desperately seeking some way to change the subject. That was the best way to distract her— ask her about something she cared about more. Tom or her dad or school or something…

  Fuck. I couldn’t think of anything. My brain was still swimming in a syrupy concoction of fear and humiliation.

  “Nate,” Alex said gently, like she was luring a feral cat out of a gutter. “Did you think I was gonna hit you?”

  I shook my head wordlessly— not a negation so much as an expression of my inability to explain anything I was thinking.

  “You know I’d never do that, right?” Alex asked, and I wanted to say yes. Yes, of course I know. But I didn’t know that. I’d never seen her angry like that before. I’d let myself believe she was just too level-headed to get angry. Even at the height of her depression she was reasonable. I was the violent one. I was the angry one. Not Alex.

  “Would you ever hit me?” she asked, and I balked at the question. My words suddenly came back in a rush.

  “Of course not!” I snapped.

  “Why?” she asked, smiling.

  “Because you’re a girl.” Obviously.

  “Why else?”

  I shrugged, casting around for a truthful answer. “Because I love you?”

  “Yeah, and I love you too, remember?”

  “It’s not the same,” I argued, frowning at her. “You were angry.”

  “Yeah I was angry!” she exclaimed, throwing her hands out to her sides and letting them fall. “But that doesn’t mean I’m gonna freaking hit you. And even if I was I wouldn’t do it in a moving car that you were driving. That’s crazy!”

  “You were really angry,” I said stupidly. Why didn’t she understand? There’s no logic when you’re angry. There’s no love. There’s just a red haze and bloodlust.

  “Not everyone solves every problem with violence,” Al said, scowling at me. “Are you gonna get like this every time we fight?”

  Jesus H. Christ. This is gonna happen again?

  I shrugged, and Al rolled her eyes, heaving an exasperated sigh.

  “You’re impossible,” she said with a shake of her head. “Don’t go behind my back again to solve my problems, Nate.” I shook my head to agree. “And next time we fight, don’t try to wreck your car.” I hung my head, unable to look at her. Alex was the most well-adjusted girl I’d ever met. How long would it take for her to run out of patience with my bullshit? I ought to have broken up with her right then and there— liberated her of my convoy full of baggage.

  I couldn’t do it, though. I loved her too much. Or maybe I didn’t love her enough. Either way, instead of setting her free I wrapped my arms around her and hugged her until she squeaked, batting at my chest with her hands.

  “Let me go, crazy,” she mumbled against my chest, and I loosened my grip, letting her step away. She glared at me, but her hackles were down and the air no longer buzzed and crackled with the energy of her anger.

  “I’m still pissed at you,” she said, bracing her hands on her hips. I just nodded. And that was the end of our first fight. No screaming. No thrown objects. No police involvement. No bruises. Just raised voices and fear.

  I could survive that.

  ‥ ‥ ‥

  In April, for the first time since we started seeing each other, I took Alex on an actual, honest-to-god date.

  I thought maybe I was dreaming when the stars finally started falling in line—

  First, Paul left the system. In late March, his maternal grandparents finally got wind of his existence. They were estranged from his mother before she died and had no idea they had a grandson. One day Paul was there. The next he was gone, swept away by the same combination of luck and love that had snagged up Jakey so many years ago.

  Trish cried and Ronnie pouted and bitched about his own grandparents, who’d had the gall to die before he was born. I was just happy. I’d fucked it up with Jake, so now any time a kid got adopted out from under me, I made sure to send them off with a smile and a hug. When the loss and petty jealousy inevitably crept up I beat it back with memories of Jake’s tear-stained face and I forced myself to be happy. Just happy.

  A week after Paul left, Ronnie brought home a permission slip for a sleep-away field trip to the capitol to visit a natural history museum. He didn’t want to go, but I talked him into it. Two nights away from Tim and Marsha was a rare opportunity. Not hard to sell. I forged the signature and he took the permission slip back to school the next day.

  I damn near cried when Trish came to me two days later, begging to attend a sleepover at her friend’s house that Friday night. I didn’t even bother to clear it with Tim and Marsha. As long as they knew where we were if the authorities came knocking, they didn’t give a shit where we went. I would drop her off and pick her up, so it wouldn’t interfere with their drug consumption. Nothing else mattere
d.

  The only person left to worry about was Deb and, if I’m being honest, I didn’t worry too much about her those days. She was never at home and, when I did see her, she was invariable stoned out of her mind. I still cared about her. I still wished she would clean up her act. I just didn’t have it in me anymore to drag her kicking and screaming back to the light, only to have her dive back into the darkness the second I turned my back.

  Paul was gone. Ronnie had a field trip. Trish had a sleep over. Deb was never home. For the first time since I entered the system, I didn’t have a single person to worry about. Friday night was wide open. I could do whatever the fuck I wanted.

  “Do you wanna see a movie on Friday?” I asked Alex, hiding a smile when she gawked at me across our little table in the library.

  “Like... sneak out and catch a midnight showing?” she asked, confused. Usually, I was only available during school hours and in the middle of the night.

  “I was thinking more like dinner at five and a movie at seven,” I said, shrugging like it was no big deal.

  “My stars, Nate Reynolds,” Al breathed, widening her eyes and pressing her hand to her chest. “Are you asking me on a date?”

  “Of course not!” I played along, holding up my hands and shaking my head. I leaned forward, whispering so the library staff wouldn’t hear me. “I was just thinking we could get dinner on me and then sit in the back of a dark theater and make out. Then, if you’re up for it, maybe we could wander into the woods and have a little sex.”

  Alex leaned forward and whispered in my ear, warm breath brushing over my skin. “That sounds an awful lot like a date.”

  “Call it what you want,” I said with a shrug. “The offer expires in five… four… three… two…”