Did he really think I wouldn’t hear?
Or maybe he decided to abandon me, like our family had done to him so many years ago. Has it really been five years since he left? I pondered this thought. Five years had gone by so fast. I was twelve then, seventeen now, and I was so innocent. Who would have thought that in just three years I would fall deeply in love with the one man I couldn’t keep forever and always. I know that thought never crossed through my mind at twelve, I was too busy with Barbie’s, and running away from boys on the playground.
Tossing the phone onto the dark wood in the middle of the hall, I glanced up at the clock. It was almost midnight. Almost my eighteenth birthday, and my family was nowhere to be found. I would spend my eighteenth birthday alone.
Knock, knock. A sudden bang on the front door petrified me and caused me to freeze in a defensive position. After a quick recovery, I flicked on the main hallway light and looked through the tiny glass peep-hole.
It was only James, a sudden sigh of relief flew out of my chest. I cracked open the door, only leaving room for my head to pop out. “Hey James!” There was too much excitement in my voice.
“Hey Cass,” he outstretched his right arm towards me, “I was going to come at midnight, but I guess a few minutes early doesn’t really matter.”
My eyes, still in shock that he was at my door, ultimately looked down to see a glittering ball of neatly arranged sunflowers. They weren’t in their natural state. A florist with too much time on his or her hands had taken out each individual sunflower and coated it with a different color glitter.
“Well,” James cleared his throat, “happy birthday!”
And for the first time, in a long time, I cried.
James sat with me for two hours, and let me cry on his shoulder.
“I am such a fool.” I told him.
“A fool?” He asked.
“I fell for a boy, and never accepted him as a man.” I managed to mumble.
“I don’t understand,” James replied.
“Neither do I.” I cried.
I wanted to sleep, right then and there. But James wouldn’t let me. “We have to go Cass, I still have another surprise for you.”
“Okay.” I stood up and opened the front door. “Let’s go.”
I stood up and began to rummage through my purse, in search of any sort of currency. What are the chances I would actually pull Euros’ out of my purse? “Let’s go.” I pushed my crinkled American bills on the table, and walked towards the door.
When I got home, the house was horribly empty, as usual. I had wished for more siblings, considering, at a younger age my brother Joe had left my family for California.
“You’re a freak!” my dad yelled to my brother one night.
“Oh my.” my mother muttered after my dads outburst.
Luci, who happened to be over at the time, said nothing, and Joe just walked around the corner and up the stairs. As he passed Luci and I, sitting on the bottom step, I noticed he had a smile on his face. Once he reached the top step he let out a sigh and a casual laugh. Not the type of reaction you think he should have to my parents harsh words.
Ever since that night my father never looked at Joe the same. I am pretty sure they never made eye contact. My mother on the other hand was over catering the situation. She is constantly correcting herself to make every word out of her mouth more politically correct. Not to mention, I guess she feels the need to smother him and make him feel even more loved.
My brother is gay, not dieing, but my parents treated him like he has some sort of AIDS you don’t get from being a fag (not politically correct, but what else can I say?). My dad saw him as an outsider, my mother pitied him. Luci, who pretended it never happened until recently, took no position, and as for me, I knew it from the day I caught him sneaking in my room to borrow some pants.
I think I am the only person that treated him the same way. I still think of him as my funny eccentric older brother. But as I said, my dad and mother and I treated. Because, as my father says now a days, I never had a brother. And never will again.
As I walked the barren halls of my house, I became clearly aware that I had only blocked Joe out of my life because my parents had ordered me to. And like a silly young fool, I listened. Listening wasn’t my strong feature today, or many days past, so I picked up the hall phone and dialed the last number in the family phone book, even though our last name was Brass, and pressed the send button.
After exiting his car, and walking into the open section of the field, filled with strangers, I could finally get a good look at all his basic outlining features.
His deep voice matched his hard exterior. Almost as tall as one of the trees nearby, and muscular, I would not be shocked if he belong to some sort of fight club. “Pro boxer?” I guessed at some point between the car and field. He snorted lightly and shook his head.
“A dance my lady?” I hadn’t even noticed the music, let alone all the people dancing around me.
I let him take my hand, “Only if I can get some answers.”
He grabbed my extended arm and pulled me close to himself, “Ask me your worse.”
“I got your name, how about age?”
“Ah,” he sighed, “you really don’t remember me.”
It wasn’t a question, more of a disbelief, so I didn’t answer. Just turned my head away as if I was ashamed by this.
“I am twenty years of age. ‘Not too old, not too young.’ as you described it.” That would be something I would say to a guy I chose to flirt with for a night.
“Okay, how did you know where I lived?” I expected him to be embarrassed by this question.
“You gave me your address, as well as phone number, not to mention your life story.” He pushed my body away from his, forcing me to spin under his left arm.
“And you didn’t just call me because…” I slammed back into him.
“I thought this would be more romantic.” He continued to lead my clumsy feat around the grass and gravel dance floor. “Besides, this is just like a dream, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” I muttered, “just like a dream.” And right then and there, he dipped me, and we kissed. Under the moon, and stars, and all the twinkling white lights. It was perfect, the perfect dream.
“Too bad that’s all it was,” I explained to Alice the next day over chili cheese fries and coffee.
“Maybe it was a sign,” She tapped her cigarette on the glass ash tray, tossing all the ash into the center.
“Or,” I took a big sip of coffee and widened my eyes, “maybe I fell asleep watching some mushy movie, like The Notebook.”
Alice stared in disbelief that I had shot down her psychic feeling, “I know I usually go along with what you say about ‘signs’ and ‘karma’ but today, I just can’t buy it.”
“Well, at least tell me you told James that the whole pregnancy scare was you being a drunken fool.” She snorted and took a long drag from her newly lit cigarette.
I hadn’t told him, I refused to tell him. I would be angry with him, I thought I had a right to be. Me, pregnant, and drinking! As if. I cannot believe he would think I was that irresponsible. Besides, I had better things to think about dealing with.
Alice went on with her stories about boys and clothes that she had seen earlier that day at the mall, and all I could think about was how I wish I could draw. I had this image in my mind since I woke up, of this mysterious stranger in my dream.
Tall, almost a giant next to me. Thick brown hair that framed his face, and was just a bit longer in the back, than the front. Smooth skin, perfectly shaped eyebrows, and a smile that was somehow present on his face, without his lips ever parting.
Dark eyes. Those dark eyes were what I remembered most. They pierced into me, as if they had known me for years. But I had no way to break through that barrier to get to him. Get inside him, and understand what he was thinking.
The sliding door opened with a squeal, which I had been trying to avoid, considering it was almost midnight, and my mother was probably fast asleep.
It was oddly cold outside, at least for this time of year. Early summers in Michigan were always slightly mild, but never this chilled. “Hello?” I stared into the dark yard and squinted hard in order to make out any figures that might have been standing in the yard.
Sticks began to break, and the stiff lawn began to crunch, “Hey Castel.”
I stepped back in shock, my full name. I hadn’t heard it in forever.
“Castel, I know that’s you, so don’t try to runaway.”
Who was this stranger, how did they know me, and my full name? I never told anyone my full name if I had just met them, so I must have known this stranger well. Would that still make him a stranger?
“Castel, you came all the way down here.” He laughed behind his dark shadow. “You might as well talk to me.”
I debated turning away and running for the door, but instead I cleared my throat and in a soft voice asked, “Who are you?” The question was innocent enough.
“You can’t be serious.” Anger grew in his voice.
“I am,” I stiffened in defense, “very.”
“You’re kidding right.”
I stood still, waiting for him to revel himself to me. Instead, he walked towards me, and to my right, leaving the backyard by hopping over our sliver chain link fence.
“What the fuck?” I screeched in his ongoing direction, and immediately began to follow him. As I hopped over the linked fence, two strong hands reached out and grabbed my sides. “Thanks.” I muttered.
“I’m just glad you figured out that I wanted you to follow.” He laughed, soft and deep.
I nodded and pulled up my sinking sweatpants, “You never told me your…”
“I’m Darik, by the way.” A sigh came out of him, and I could see his stance tense up and then relax.
“Oh, well, thanks.” Guilt fell over me, Darik seemed nice enough.
“Don’t feel bad,” it’s like he knew what I was thinking, “you were pretty wasted when we met the other night.”
Before I could respond, he grabbed my hand and dragged me to the street, opened the passenger door to a slightly new, black, Charger, and threw me in.
Here goes nothing, I told myself. And as he turned the key in the ignition, I held my breath and held on for an interesting ride.
“Relax.” He cackled, and gently pushed his foot down on the gas pedal.
I spent the day in my bed, sitting cross-legged, and strumming my old Gibson J-50. I got a beat, and I knew exactly what made me angry, but I just couldn’t put any meaningful words together.
Hours passed, and so did my sudden feeling that I could write a new masterpiece. I traded my guitar for the remote, and fixed myself on my bed so I would be able to sit that way, comfortably, for hours.
Tick, and silence, tick, more silence.
“Who the fuck is tossing stones at my window?” I asked the television set I happened to be facing.
Standing up from my bed was an odd feeling. I felt as if I hadn’t moved in hours, in all reality I hadn’t really moved, except to go to the bathroom once or twice. Legs stiff, and butt numb, I wobbled towards my window that faced my dead end street.
I half expected it to be James, begging for my forgiveness. I even had a slightest bit of hope that it was Brody’s ghost, yes, his ghost, not him. But it was a stranger, a complete stranger. A completely, handsome, and wonderful creature, that I could not recognize. I must be loosing all hope if I can’t remember meeting this mysterious man.
“Well, if there’s no way, then why am I giving you my last thirteen bucks to buy a pregnancy test?” She turned the key hard in the ignition, put the car in reverse, and slammed her foot on the gas pedal.
The drive to CVS was short and sweet. We both tried to dredge up any memory we could from the previous night. “When did we even come in contact with James?” Alice asked, “Check your phone. Maybe you texted him.”
I flipped the phone open and scanned through all sent text messages. “Shit.” Alice’s slim face shot over for a quick glance, “I did text him.”
“Saying what? You were Prego?” No laugh came with this joke.
“No, telling him I needed a ride home, and where to come get me.” I shrugged, realizing this wasn’t very severe.
“Nothing about being sick or pregnant?” I scanned the rest of my outbox.
“Not a single thing.”
“Ha. Ha.” Alice began to laugh, loud, and deep.
As she hit the breaks and turned around, my head snapped in her direction, “What are you laughing about, I could be carrying Brody’s child and could not even know it!”
“Castle, you’re not pregnant. I just remembered something,” About time, I thought to myself, “you did text him, and when he actually showed up, you flipped. He was about to make a move on you, and you said you were pregnant!”
She pulled over to the side of the road, put the car in park, and bent forward as if she were in pain from laughing so hard. “Alice! This is not at all funny!”
“Yes, Cass. Yes, it is.”
I sat in silence as she put the car in drive.
By the time we got back to my house, I finally begin to see why Alice found this funny. I grabbed my messenger bag and climbed out of her car. “Can’t wait to clear this one up.” And I slammed the door shut.
Alice rolled down her window and shouted to me, “Did you ever know that you’re my hero?”
“Very funny!” I howled back.
“Next time some guy is trying to hit on me, I am just going to tell him I’m knocked up!”
She continued to laugh as the window reached the top of the car frames arch.
An hour later, I walked up to the store. And buy that little stick in a box.
Step one, pee. Step two, wait. Step three, realize it was a waste of time and thirteen dollars.
I now need two things; a cigarette and my guitar. Some serious writing needs to commence.
Did I mention that?
I write, music and lyrics. Just for fun of course. Occasionally I would play for Lucy, or rattle off my latest lines to my mother. This hasn’t happened in about a month though. You would think the death of someone close would inspire me, and fill me with emotions to convey onto paper.
It didn’t though. It basically drained me, and for the first time in a long time, I was filled with feelings. Rage, because James would think I was pregnant and drinking. Sadness, because for about thirty seconds, I was thrilled to possibly be caring Brody’s baby. And hate, for myself, and ever thinking that being pregnant would do anything but make my situation worse.
I recall many beers, and multiple shots. Instead of the usual strangers, I was surrounded by friends, most their faces painted with shock to see me happy. I downed shots; or I must have, because everything about the way I was feeling, told me I downed at least four or five.
“Vv vv v,” I could feel my phone vibrating beneath me. It must be Alice, I told myself, and answered without even looking at the caller ID.
“How much did I drink last night?” I asked, still assuming I knew the callers identity.
“I’m not sure, as much as I had.” It was Alice I heard, but her voice was coming from behind me, in my bed.
“Alice? If you’re in bed with me, then who is on the phone?” I pulled the speaker away, shocked the caller hadn’t hung up yet.
“Cass, it’s James.” Oh great.
“Hey James.” Alice sprang up next to me and crawled to the end of the bed.
“Ask him out.” She mouthed to me with a slight whisper escaping her lips.
“Fine,” I mouthed back. “Hey James, I was wondering if I could take you up on that proposal from last night.”
“Well, actually, that’s why I was calling. I don’t think it would be such a great idea.” There was a short silence on both ends of the line. “You know, after what you said last night.”
“Wait,” I tried to recall every conversation I had had last night. But nothing stood out. I talked to more people than usual, and that was all I could remember. “What did I say?”
“I don‘t think I should be the one to tell you what you said. And maybe you shouldn‘t be drinking so much, it‘s probably not good for the baby.” And the line clicked dead.
