《Benson Family Secrets》 Prologue -- Christmas, 1990 (Billy Joel – “And So It Goes”) Prologue --Christmas, 1990 Billy Joel C And So It Goes I used to hide in clothes racks. My mother would take me to a department store like Macys and I would run ahead of her and get lost in the womens section, burying myself in one of those circular displays. I liked the feel of the coats on my skin, smothering me, like some kind of woolen hug. Whenever a hapless grandmother would reach in looking for her size, I would grab her arm from deep inside and listen to her surprised wail. It never got old. By the time Mom found me we were late. I held tight to her hand as we exited through the spinning doors onto Springfield Ave. The block was closed to traffic and families moved to and fro doing last minute holiday shopping and waiting for the show to start. Word had come down from on high: Santa had been seen in the vicinity and was thought to be landing with his sleigh somewhere in downtown tonight. We hurried along through the township of Summit, a suburb nestled on a hill and blanketed in snow. It was said to be the 70th wealthiest town in America, a crimeless borough made of sprawling homes. It boasted a major train hub into the city that bisected the town in half. In the business center, where we were, most of the owners lived in apartments above their shops. They tended to resemble English townhouses with their glassed-in studies hanging over the street like immaculately built cuckoo clocks. They were lit at night by streetlamps designed to mimic old-fashioned, gas lanterns. Mom stopped briefly under one of these to zip up my coat, a bomber jacket she had gotten me with a furry collar because she knew that Id look just like a World War Two flying ace or Maverick from Top Gun. I was freckle-faced and Scottish pale, downy hair in a childrens bowl. And with my Z Cavariccis with the elastic waist, I cut quite the figure. As Mom pulled me behind her, my little legs pumped to keep up. When we slowed enough for me to do so, I would stand on my tippy toes and peer in the picture windows of the shops we passed. The bank was open late to show off the winners of the gingerbread house building contest. At least, thats why I believed the bank was open late. Among the marble pillars and buffed floor, there were tables set up in the lobby, each showing a different house. I looked at the frosted features and the gumdrop doorknobs, the graham cracker chimneys and peppermint stick streetlights, all covered with powdered sugar snow. I asked Mom why we couldnt do something like this and she said something about it being too messy. I didnt ask again, mostly because I had a warm, Christmassy feeling in my stomach. Also, the Hess truck was back and it was better than ever this year and Mom said I might get it if I was good... Mom used to be wealthy when she was my age, but now she was a single mom and I had to do aftercare and go to breakfast club. We lived with my Aunt and Uncle. Moms brother, Nick, drove a BMW and Sheila, his wife, worked in a bank, which is where they keep money. My Aunts rich; her family owned stock in a car company called Fort. They were so rich they had a big screen T.V. They couldnt have kids of their own though and Mom said they always kind of looked at me as the child they never had. Uncle Nick was the coolest. He would take me to karate in his European sports car. Afterwards, wed stop at 7-11 where the stoned high school kids out front would yell kee-ya! in my six-year-old face. Then Uncle Nick would walk in with his feathered hair and flick his cigarette butt at them. On the way out, after we got Coke slurpees, those same kids would ask me in awe, is that your dad?! And Id say, pshtt! I wish! I let Mom drag me away from the gingerbread display and didnt even get angry, mostly because Mom had been tired lately. Probably cause she was gonna have a baby! The dad was this guy my mom was dating named Pete and Pete was a lot of fun. He was one of those charming, heavy set guys who carried his weight well and didnt let it get in the way of a good time. He liked to say his beer belly was just more cushion for the pushin, whatever that meant. Hed come over on Sunday nights and he and Mom would watch T.V. with Nick and Sheila while I ate spoonfuls of cream cheese and did ninja rolls off one of the ottomans. The girls wanted to watch Murder, She Wrote which was about a woman who looked like my grandma and solved crimes (something I thought all grandmas did), but Pete and Nick voted for Man vs. Machine. For fun, the adults asked me which I thought we should watch. Being starved for a male role model the way I was, I immediately sided with Pete, mumbling Man vs. Machine. My mom called me a traitor and laughed, but it still stung. I used to hold hands between the two of them, shouting one, two, three C weeeeee! before launching my feet into the air, forcing them to swing me. I thought about that as we passed the travel agency where Pete worked. Mom looked in expectantly, almost as if she thought hed be there. But it was dark inside and closed. I could barely make out the framed posters of Aspen and Italy. Mom seemed upset and I thought I knew why. I wanted a father figure just as much as Mom wanted a husband, mostly because it was common knowledge among my friends that if you had a dad you never ran out of money. I looked up at Mom as she led us down the sidewalk. She was wearing that denim jacket with the shoulder pads that she loved. She had a way of glancing down at me with those benevolent mom eyes and making me feel totally at peace. She was beautiful when I was younger. She claims that no less than eight men asked to marry her. But she turned them all down, convinced that something better was just around the corner. She was almost forty now and had finally said yes to Pete. She was older than a lot of the other moms but had always grown her hair long and kept it so very straight, though I never saw her comb it. It had started to go grey by the time she turned eighteen and she alternately dyed it and let it grow depending on how she felt about aging that month. Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. I think I knew somehow without speaking that Pete was her last chance at happiness. As a travel agent, he promised world travel. Infinite possibilities... That her dreams werent dead. By the time we reached the cordoned off area, the snow was not so much falling as spinning around us, floating in the air like papier-mach. A crowd had already formed around the fire engine that idled in the middle of the road, its ladder extended onto the roof of a nearby building. I followed it to find Santa on top of Place Vendome, where Aunt Lynn got her hair cut. Mom swung me onto her shoulders to see him better. He waved from the roof, as dozens of parents took his picture for their kids. Carefully, he made his way down the firemans ladder, pausing every so often to throw presents. He looked just like he did in the Coke commercials. I remembered I had met him once before, when Mom woke me up in the middle of the night. She led me downstairs in my pajamas, dragging my Teddie Ruxpin behind me. There I saw him: Santa, with his back to us, putting presents under the tree. It was only years later that I noticed Santa had my Uncle Nicks heroin-chic waistline. I never did thank them for the magic they made of my childhood. I waved joyously to Santa from Moms shoulders. He looked much fatter than when Id seen him last. He winked at me and tossed a candy cane to mom. Instead of being happy about it, Mom said we should probably go now if we didnt want to get stuck in traffic. We left before the rest of the crowd and made our way back to where Mom had parked, in the lot behind Liss pharmacy. She was helping me into the passenger seat of our pea green, wood-paneled Volvo station wagon when it happened. Looking out over the dashboard, she saw something that shook her up. I asked, what is it? But she told me weakly to stay in the car. I disobeyed for the first, but not last, time in my life. She moved to shut the door, but my foot was in the way. I quickly unbuckled my belt and jetted past her out of the car, climbing atop a nearby bumper to see what it was that she saw. There, I spotted Pete, spinning a girl half his age. She was snug in a felt cap and tiny winter coat, cinched at the waist. She had expensive fur boots on. He was kissing her and looked so happy. I couldnt help but notice that she had no grey in her hair. I turned to Mom. Of all the careful mothering shed done, this was different. She couldnt even pretend like this wasnt a big deal. She looked weak, like she might faint; her skin the color of someone who missed the lotto by one number. I watched what was left of her youth leave her eyes. And I wanted to say something, because I was pretty sure I was the one responsible for Pete cheating. I put too much pressure on their relationship. But I just couldnt bring myself to make the words. In the weeks that followed, Mom seemed to wither on the vine. At night we would drive around and look for houses we were going to buy with all the money we didnt have. It became our favorite activity, motoring through rich neighborhoods and dream shopping. I learned to hate the people in those houses. Wed imagine our lives and how different theyd be in each house. Her favorite was the one on Hobart Ave, a three floor Tudor with columns. I never knew what was so special about it, but Mom sure did. She would stare at it through the driving rain, lit at night by the outside lights, and become so quiet. Then one day, she was tired of doing nothing. She was tired of staying put. So, we took to the highways, where each new vista left her problems behind, if only for a moment. She made me a bed in the backseat, in case I got tired of the constant driving. But I rarely used it. Instead, I chose to sit up front with Mom. I was our navigator even though I couldnt read a map yet. I just kept it on my lap until Mom needed it. Only sometimes did I use it as a blanket. We started out with the shore, where it was too cold to swim. Ocean City was a boardwalk town in its off-season. I saw a building on the beach and asked Mom what was inside. She smirked and said it was probably a bath house. I asked, who would swim in a bath when theres a perfectly good ocean right there? She just shrugged and said, men. We splashed in a waterfall in New York State and woke up early enough to see a sunrise in coastal Maine. She took me sledding down a ski-slope. We fell down laughing at the bottom. I was fully aware I was missing school, but Mom had gotten my homework for weeks to come. It seemed like I finished it in hours and soon nothing held us back. I was her partner in crime. We snuck into a movie once after our first one had finished. I was so panicked the entire time that she eventually told me she had paid for the tickets. They were in her purse and she would show them to me later. In Michigan, we stayed at Aunt Sheilas brothers house and when he and Mom had had a few, he told me a yarn about how he had three pet alligators. He even took his sandal off to beat them back. How was I to know? I was too short to see over the bar. We headed south in search of warmer weather, through the Florida swamps, down the interstate to the tourist traps. After bugging Mom to see a real one, I remember perching on the edge of an alligator exhibit. When it jumped up and snapped near me, I hopped back and hid behind her laughing, frightened. Motels came and went, rest stops faded into the distance. Old coffee cups, mis-folded maps, and fast-food trash piled up in the Volvo. And I knew she was crying, even though she never let me see. It was hard to watch -- someone who was supposed to be solid, someone I was supposed to look up to -- was falling apart. I watched her belly grow. I can still see her sitting at a table in a McDonalds play place, watching me run around, worn out by the road. I took in America from the passenger window of a station wagon; watched as we raced the sun as it set over the Great Plains. I saw the amazing flatness of Iowa, the mind-numbing boredom of Nebraska. I watched as the hills turned to mountains in Boulder and changed to prehistoric deserts in Nevada. At a log cabin in the Pacific Northwest, I wrestled with some dogs, and just as suddenly, had to wave goodbye to them. But when Moms bank accounts read in the negatives, she knew it was time to come home. Because you couldnt have a baby on the road. After giving birth, she was on her way back from Overlook hospital when she demanded that Nannie pull over at the travel agency Pete worked at, so she could show him his daughter. Men were visual learners she had been taught and who could deny how cute this kid was? It was the middle of a workday and heads turned as she walked through the cramped office. Instead of Pete she found Petes mother who ran the travel agency and shoved my sister, Jesse, into her arms, telling her she was a grandmother now. She never saw Pete again outside of court. I remember that time well, when Mom started eating a lot and gaining weight. Out of the blue, she announced that we had taken up enough of Nick and Sheilas time, that we were moving out. Still, we only moved a couple miles away. Long Ditch was nothing but a series of strip malls and split-level houses. A suburb of Newark, it was a commuter town no one was supposed to stay in for long. It formed along the valley of the Green Hill Mountains, which Summit stood at the top of. We had fallen far, indeed. Mom, I know, thought it would only be a starter house, but nearly ten years later we were still living there. Chapter One -- April, 1999 (Oasis – “Don’t Look Back in Anger”) Chapter One --April, 1999 Oasis C Dont Look Back in Anger This would require some stealth. With my mother just downstairs, Id need to be quiet. I took my shoes off in the hallway, turned the knob, and stepped into her room. When we moved in, I remember her carpet being soft and white, but over the years it had become matted and hardened. Her queen-sized mattress took up the majority of the room, providing the claustrophobia she so craved. In the little space that was left, she stacked her folded clothes along the walls until they nearly reached the ceiling. Same with the books: not classics, but James Pattersons, self-helps, and summer reads. She was a voracious reader, sometimes staying up all night to finish a book. When she couldnt sleep, shed dip into her bedside table stash of sugar-free candies. She liked to mainline them when she was dieting. As a fourteen-year-old, I could eat anything I wanted and not gain a pound. Recently, I had stopped eating real food, choosing instead to take most of my meals at the gas station two blocks away. But to buy Mountain Dew and pound cake, I needed to scrounge up some cash. Thats what I was doing in my mothers room, looking for spare change. She famously had a pitcher full of coins that she was convinced were worth more than their cash value ever since seeing a 60 Minutes segment about a penny that was actually worth a grand. I just couldnt remember where she hid the pitcher. Her closet was no dice, though I did discover she owned an oddly-shaped back massager. I tried using it, but it kind of smelled, so I tossed it aside and kept searching. It had been some nine years since that terrible Christmas. No longer was I the adorable, cherubic youth with the chipmunk cheeks. As I entered my teen years it seemed like a cloud had passed over me. I had thick eyebrows and birds nest hair. My mother - who I had been calling Janet lately - would often describe me to people as if I were the conductor of a small communist countrys symphony. To her, I was less a teenage boy and more a crotchety old man. But physically, the baby face gave me away. With my darting blue eyes and the delicate bags that hung below them, I was the picture of paranoia. I was the only fourteen-year-old I knew with flop sweat. If anything, my moody exterior did match our house, the siding of which was not aluminum or brick or stucco, it was simply made of the same layered shingles the roof consisted of, only lighter. It was painted a dreary grey that really popped in the rain. The ivy that covered half the house no longer gave it gravitas, it had now started to eat away at the siding and at certain places, had actually started growing inside. A low stone wall circled the property, penning in a mostly dead garden. The trees and bushes were at once overgrown and in the process of dying, the lawn a mix of dry grass and weeds. Simply put, our house was the one on the block all the neighborhood kids thought was haunted. And yes, it was true the former owner died there, but Mom didnt tell us that for years. It was probably why we got it so cheap. In all her time as a realtor, she had never seen a deal like this. The house was a work in progress to be sure, but $89,000 was still a steal. So what if it was under major power lines? This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. Sometimes I wondered how much longer the house would stand. The whole fixer-upper aspect had never really been addressed. It seemed like every room had some half-finished construction project in it. Hell, it was April and our Christmas tree was still up. It became clear that my mother had other things on her mind... She had always been slightly overweight, but after Jesse was born, she had no reason to keep it together anymore. Instead, she would diet for a week or two, just long enough to get a compliment from someone who had noticed her loss of a pound. Then, with that small validation, she feels she can stop. Sometimes, I think her life is so sad. If eating truly makes her happy and she never gets to eat what she wants, then ergo, she is never happy. Every morning I would hear her go into the bathroom and step on the scale. I never saw the number, but I always heard the sigh. She treated Overeaters Anonymous like it was a religion. She went every Saturday without fail, giving it credence by calling it her meeting and canceling plans with people by saying sorry I cant, its my meeting. Lately though, she had been projecting all of her food issues onto Jesse, which was unfair. Sure, the girl was big for her age, but she was still growing. It seemed sometimes that the only thing Mom and Jesse bonded over was their weight. Mom sat next to her at nearly every meal telling her what to eat and, more importantly, what not to eat. It was as if she believed that making her daughter skinny would prevent any heartbreak from coming her way. Mom tried to keep a sense of humor about the whole thing. She even bought a pair of sweatpants with look out below stitched on the rear. But I saw her when the day was done and no one was around. She was miserable after Pete. There were nights she cried over him. She was a single mother with two kids and she was terrified of what the future might hold. And she had cause to worry. Inside, the bills were everywhere. Like her diet, she started and stopped paying them every other week. Shed get halfway through organizing them, then invariably something would come up and those organized piles would need to be moved or sat on because they were on the couch or eaten on because there was only one table and it was dinner time. Thered be stacks going up the stairs, stacks in the kitchen, even stacks on top of boxes of other bills. Because of this, she was always on the phone with Nannie; asking for money, begging for money, being pathetic for money, invoking her two kids and raising them alone, for money. I crossed to my mothers bureau. Atop a doily to prevent scratches, I saw framed photos of people Id never met, yellowed with age and dusty with neglect. As I pulled the creaky drawers open one-by-one, my expectations began to fade. I had just about given up on finding the coins when I came face-to-face with a dark green manila envelope. It looked evil. It looked illicit. I let my curiosity get the better of me and picked it up. Inside, I found a stack of typed pages. I knew I was invading Moms privacy, but that was the last thing on my mind as I started reading. I quickly realized that they were stories shed written about her youth. I recognized familiar names on nearly every page. People tell me how great she was when she was growing up; how much fun she used to be. Why then did I feel like I only got the shitty years? The years when shed given up and started yelling all the time. Why was she the way that she was? I knew precious little about my mothers teen years. In pictures, she looked like a young Elizabeth Taylor. Her eyes were almost purple. She was constantly being told by her parents how beautiful she was. She used to fidget in class. She couldnt wait to start her life. There was no end to the things she was going to do and be... Because she had time. Chapter Two -- Christmas, 1967 (The Doors – “People are Strange”) Chapter Two --Christmas, 1967 The Doors C People are Strange They lived on Dorchester in a house with good bones. In the cape cod style, it was bright white with pale blue shutters and a big wrap-around porch. They had gotten a company to install their Christmas lights, but the house would have glowed with a warm, inviting radiance anyway because of the party going on inside. The Bensons had a living room large enough for entertaining and Janets parents were nothing if not known for their parties. For as long as she could remember, people seemed to flock to her family. They came as soon as the sun went down and like a middle school dance, they would break into groups of men and women. They stood in clumps spread out around the house, a cloud of cigarette smoke hanging permanently above their heads. It diffused the light that came from the yellow glass chandelier, throwing a haze over the rest of the room. The wall art and wood paneling, the conversation pit, and the statement stone fireplace with exposed brick were all barely visible. Janet walked the party in her Stones t-shirt, the one with the tongue, and looked around the living room. There were fur coats by the door and slung over chairs. Already ancient-looking forty-year-olds sat on army-green couches drinking bellinis. Everyone was there; the Armbrusters, the Marshalls, the Saticoys. She even saw some of her friends parents. Marcias family started Mattel, Els dad worked for Merck, and the Bieneckes were the richest cause they came up with S&H green stamps. Several of the men were huddled around a rattan bar cart and Janet caught sight of her father holding court. William wore a cardigan, absent-mindedly stuffing a pipe as he spoke. It had been a shitty summer, but he was back now. The official story was that he had been at a retreat for exhaustion. Unofficially though, after Sandra had left him, he spent the last few months fishing in the Keys having a breakdown. Here in his element, he seemed okay. He could be incredibly charming when he wanted to be. The movie star hair helped, always in place, always perfectly parted. But although he inspired confidence, there was still something about him that was barely holding together, something broken in the eyes; a caged animal, perhaps, begging to be let out. The only reason hes on the Supreme Court is because there was a summer of race riots. Thats it. Theyre trying to pacify them! I dont know about that... a man in a sweater vest said. William waved him off, not through. Im serious, everywhere they go its one handout after another! You mean youre not curious about that Guess whos coming to dinner in the heat of the night movie? William groaned, loudly. Sidney Poitier! All it takes is one black man enunciating properly and Im supposed to fork over my hard-earned money? No thank you! Janet rolled her eyes. If her father was already onto minorities, it would be a long night. She returned to filching unattended drinks, disguising her behavior by pretending to clean up. As she downed half of a Tom Collins, she found herself cornered by their neighbor, the one with the toupee. He wore plaid, golf pants and an ill-fitting Lacoste shirt with tiny anchors on it. She could see his belly. There she is! Janet magoo! Where you headed to college, then? She put on a polite smile. Hey, Connerty. Still got two years to figure it out. The man could not stop staring at her tits. Billy then? Wheres he headed? Oh, Bills got his sights on UVA-- Janet had already started backing away, clearing a few cups as a get-away strategy. A Cavalier, huh? Well, you tell him to come see me before I jet. Will do. Janet hurried off, grateful for the exit. She passed somebodys child who had been left sitting a foot away from their large Sylvania console T.V. He was trying hopelessly to watch the Peanuts Christmas special above the roar of the party. Janet waved to the kid and headed through the swinging kitchen door. Throwing down the holiday cups, she headed back to the basement. Upstairs had been a mistake. Shed tell her mother she made the rounds, so what if the drunks couldnt remember her? The timing was fortuitous, the Doors Whiskey Bar was starting and as she descended the furnished basement stairs, she pretended it was playing just for her. If her parents were in black and white, then her and friends were in hi-fi technicolor. On the landing, she saw a torn open case of High Life and, a few feet later, her brother, Bill, swaying drunk. You know youre toast if they call you upstairs, right? she said as she reached him. He looked at her bleary-eyed through his thin eyebrows and crew-cut hair. Oh please, theyre blatto! The same thing happens every time these old people get together - they tie one on, rub up against each other, and try to find a spare room to fool around in. Is Connerty still grabbing asses? Janet laughed and nodded. How many times can you say, whoops?! How about his wife? You get a load of those life preserver tits? Youve got such a way with words. Bill looked past her. Theyre like sharks if they just keep moving, maybe they wont die. Janet sighed. So, it was going to be one of those nights. Her brother could be so damn morose sometimes. She decided to say nothing, to just placate him. She left him there on the stairs, passing the tiki bar that William had put in even though he never came down there. This, as much as anything, the children took as tacit permission to drink all they wanted. Nearby, some friends had co-opted the bumper pool table for a game of Anaconda and the kid seated at the head of the game was rambling. Im telling you every goddamn show on television right now takes place on some farm or some backwood yokels place. He started listing them off on his hands. Beverly Hillbillies, Petticoat Junction, Green Acres, Mister Ed! Theres gonna be a rural purge if someones not careful. Mark my words, Americans wont stand for it-- John Birch, the wild card in the Bermuda shirt and Birkenstocks sitting next to him, couldnt keep quiet a single moment longer. I dont know how you can talk about this when children are being napalmed! Those at the table groaned and threw their cards down as J.B. ranted. You can shut your eyes and block your ears all you want, but now its spreading to Cambodia! Anyone who thinks this wars gonna have a happy ending needs to have their head examined! We just wanted to play a game, J.B! You know who else is playing a game? Lyndon Johnson! Hes playing with all of your futures! But were not gonna let him win! We arent? Not a chance. His own party doesnt think hes gonna win C hes got McCarthy challenging him for the nomination! The commie hunter? J.B. looked at the kid, disgusted. Not Joseph McCarthy, you gimp! Eugene! As Janet passed, she slapped J.B. on the back of the head. He immediately cried out, assault! but Janet was long gone. She took a seat on the burnt orange couch next to her sheepskin jacket-wearing boyfriend, Matt Learner. He may have been a year older than her, but he still couldnt roll joints for shit. She watched as he did a number on the number. In his eyes, it was finished. Aw, thats a really nice try-- she said, pityingly. He laughed at her charity. Shut up! How do you think I feel? Having a boyfriend whos special ed? If youre so talented, lets see you salvage it! Fine, give it here. She dumped the grounds on the table and re-straightened the papers. Matts problem was he was trying to roll half of Jamaica and by using just a tad less she was able to seal the thing in under thirty seconds. Show off... He mumbled as Janet popped it in her mouth, looking around for a lighter. Hold up-- He dug around in his jeans until he came out with a matchbook to light her up. She took a pull and smiled. Aww! You lit my joint for me! She leaned in smiling and planted a kiss on his lips. Im gonna miss you come spring break... Matt sat back against the couch, the mood ruined. Its hard keeping up with you and your friends. I told you Id lend you the money-- And I told you to forget it. Its forgotten... Janet moved to kiss him again when Bludgeon, the family dog, suddenly tried to leap up onto the couch. No, get out of here Bludgeon, this joints not for you! Matt laughed. Youre so mean to that dog! Bludgeon was officially Bills dog, but he was so cute as a pup that the others took a liking to him. The odd name was Bills idea but now they called it that without connecting it to its morbid connotations. In its old age though, the dog had lost its new car shine. Every accident became just an excuse to keep him out of the house, and now he was only let inside for the occasional party. Janet looked to Bill to wrangle his mutt but saw him standing alone. Oh, talk to Bill, would ya Mattie? I don''t want him to feel left out... Matt groaned, wanting to get back to necking. Come on, hes good... He watched as Bill took another slug from his private stash. He''s got his... flask. What is he seventy?! Janet hit Matt, playfully. Stop it--" --No, I''m serious. I know the teachers like him, but you ever get the idea that he''s kind of a fink? Bill is not a fink! As Bill drank on the landing of the staircase, his quiet as a church mouse girlfriend, Amy ODell, approached him. She was small with big doe eyes and a tiny cross around her neck. Hey, Billy! she said. He barely noticed her standing there. Hey. This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. You wanna dance? Why? No one else is? You could have knocked her over with a feather. Oh, I didnt notice... She shook her head and tried again. So, your dads back, huh? This, Bill heard. He stared straight ahead, trying to keep it together. For now... Have you tried talking to him-- But before she could finish, Bill did it for her. Excuse me. He brushed past her. Amy watched him go, quietly devastated. His eyes had found someone else... In what seemed to Bill the slowest of motions, Simone Bono descended the basement stairs, stoned and ethereal. She had a faraway look in her eyes like she wasnt entirely there. Her infinitely long red hair went past her lavender terry cloth shirt, ending halfway down her high waisted hip huggers. Her alabaster skin was the color of someone who bathed in milk. Bill couldnt say why exactly he could never be with her, but it was obvious from the first moment he laid eyes on her that she wasnt a woman at all... She was a shrine to be worshipped. As she passed, he reached a drunken hand out for her, but she was gone too fast. He thought about how she loved horses, how they were all she talked about. He remembered a conversation she had with his little sister once, where Simone told Lynn that she did western as a kid but now rode bareback. When Bill heard her say those magnificent words, he spent the rest of the afternoon imagining her riding through their neighborhood naked, like Lady Godiva, her pussy slamming into the horse with every gallop. The words were filthy, but in his head, the images were anything but... Back on the couch, Janet and Matt were too busy making time to notice Janets younger sister, Lynn, scramble up next to them. The little blonde with her horribly knotted pigtails started jumping up and down on the couch cushions, scuffing them up with her sneakers, chanting Frenchers, frenchers, frenchers! Janet broke the kiss off annoyed, wiping spit from the corner of her mouth. Lynn, do you mind?! Her baby sister stopped jumping just long enough to say nope then went right back to what she was doing. Janet noticed a familiar yellow broach in her sisters hair. Is that my hair clip, you little worm?! Lynn blanched. No. She quickly yanked it from her head, yelping when she snapped some hair loose. Janet grinned when she saw this. Something wrong, Lynn? Lynn shook her head, in obvious pain. Not at all. Smiling, Matt leaned over to whisper something to Janet. Lynn immediately inquired. What did he say?! I wont tell on you guys for kissing if you just let me in on it! Go ahead and tell Mom, shell just ask you why you arent in bed already. Lynn became deathly serious. No, Im sorry, Ill be good! Youll stop spying on us?! She nodded vigorously as Janets best friend, Maggie Birch, wandered over, drunk. The girl had big hoop earrings on and even bigger hair. She leaned over them, bra-less, in a velvet jumpsuit secured with a leather belt. Janet was used to Maggie dressing in the extreme, but this was overdoing it even for her. Janet, you were so good in the play-- she said, nearly spilling her drink. Matt cackled, overjoyed. See! I told you, you were good! Janet clamped her hands over her ears blocking out any reminders of her time on stage. Seeing it was fruitless trying to compliment her, Maggie turned to Matt. And Matty, Im sorry, I heard about spring break, theyll be other trips you can take with us. Matt angrily pulled Janets hands down. Just tell the world why dont you! I didnt say it was about money! Janet hissed under her breath. Im actually gonna be busy that week-- Matt began. Janet cut him off, proudly. --hes doing a physics paper for Dr. Marlowe for extra credit. Matt became bashful. They dont wanna hear about that... Are you ashamed? No, just... Im sure its boring to them... Janet smiled. She loved putting him on the spot. He was cute when he squirmed. You know, you remind me of someone. Oh yeah? Whos that? Somebody I met over the summer. Matt arched an eyebrow. Should I be jealous? She shook her head after a time. Before she could answer though, Maggie cut in. Hey Jan, is your brother here? Yeah, Bills right over there. No, not Bill C Nicky! Ew Mags, hes like eleven! Oh, he is going to be so handsome when he gets older... Janet retched. Somebody gag me with a spoon. ** Upstairs, while the adults mingled, a plucky twelve-year-old named Nick, rose from behind the living room couch where he was hiding. He wore an Indian headdress and held a toy revolver in each hand. Spotting an unattended purse, he holstered his weapons. Looking this way and that to make sure the coast was clear, he quickly made his move, fishing some bills from it. He was on his way upstairs with his winnings, when he passed Eileen Connerty, wearing a fashionable turban. She waggled her fingers at him. Hi, Nicky! But Nick was in too big a hurry. He sidestepped her and ran up the floating stairs. In the avocado green kitchen, Cody Renna entered through the back door, his arms filled with groceries. He had bushy sideburns and a wilted afro atop his head and was dressed unseasonably in Jesus sandals and a baja hoodie. Hey Mr. Benson, I got those supplies you asked for... He handed over the grocery bag, which William noticed was a little light. Couple beers missing here... Cody feigned confusion. Are they? You know, Im gonna have to have a word with those jag-offs down at Kings... William nodded, skeptically, only then spotting the plus-one Cody had brought in with him: a shirtless, leather jacket wearing biker. Cody explained, Oh, this is Glen Tonche, Mr. Benson. I see. Hes not wearing a shirt... Nothing gets past you, sir! Glen Tonche leaned in for a sophisticated handshake that William just barely kept up with. Thank you for allowing me in your home Mr. B! William didnt quite know what to make of the boy but did what he always did when confused: he introduced his wife. Say hi to Sandra. He motioned over his shoulder back into the living room where Sandra Benson, whacked out on Depakote, was eagerly in the middle of telling a story to a bunch of ladies in bouffants and beehives. Her own hair was tightly-coiffed, a dense collection of curls. Hi, Mrs. Benson! Cody called out over the din of the party. Sandra brightened when she saw him. Hello, Cody Darling! She moved to wave at him but leaned a little too far forward and the arm of the couch had to catch her. She merrily wiped spilled white wine off her sleeve and turned back to the other women. I mean the woman was wearing Shalimar in October, for Christ sakes! Her raucous laughter filled the room, making up for anyone who wasnt laughing. One of the women, who had a sort of Connecticut-ty brogue, smiled amenably. Corker of a yarn, Sandy. Say where do you summer? Sandra wearily rattled off a list of names as the party swam in and out of focus. Oh, we never know until we know. Could be renting a house in Spring Lake, driving up to Kennebunkport or Lake George The Depakote was currently at war with the Dexedrine sulfate she took to curb her appetite and she flitted from conversation to conversation without warning. Why isnt anyone eating this?! Sandra demanded, motioning to a fondue pot that nobody was touching. Having put the groceries away, William returned from the kitchen. When he saw the sloppy way Sandra was acting, he leaned over to whisper to her, couching it in a loving embrace. Maybe switch to soda water, hun? Sandra smiled to show that there was no bad blood, then told him to fuck off. William stood back up, a sour look on his face. Fortunately, one of the other dads saved him from having to think about it for too long. Nother one, Bill? a man in a captains hat asked. William nodded. Sure, Ill take a snort. ** Nick put his ill-gotten gains in his bureau drawer just as Maggie arrived in his doorframe. She stretched there, languorously like a cat, before speaking up. Cool room... Nick started. He immediately closed the drawer and turned to face her, nervous that shed seen the money. Hey, Mags. She took a few exploratory steps into the room before giving one of his beanbag chairs a kick. Yeah, Ive been meaning to get rid of those. Nick said, feeling childish. Are you kidding? I love beanbag chairs C I lost my virginity on one! Nick blushed, high on his cheeks. Maggie didnt seem to notice. She was busy sizing up the room. Is that a Prisoner poster? It is... are you a fan? Hell yeah, Patrick McGoohans a babe. Nick smiled, glad he could do something right. He didnt notice the long, circuitous route she was taking towards him. When she finally turned to face him, she was barely two feet away. Before Nick could even think to be nervous, Maggie plucked her chewing gum from her mouth and stuck it behind her ear so she could make out with him, unimpeded. She planted a sloppy kiss on Nick. He took it without closing his eyes. When she was finally done with him, Maggie pulled back. Thanks, Nick, she said, wiping a little spittle from his chin. She left him alone with his thoughts. ** By now, the party upstairs was so tightly packed that William Benson turned from the bar with his Glenlivet rocks only to find himself pushed together with Eileen Connerty. She had a hefty beauty mark and alcohol on her lips. There he is! she intoned. Here I am! William agreed. Its good to have you back, Will. Wasnt the same without you. God how I miss summer: the kids away at summer camp, my husband working... you mowing the lawn with your shirt off... She pressed her silk, ruffled blouse against him. William smiled. He moved to take her glass. I think you''ve had a bit too much to drink, Eileen. Oh? Well, I tried to stop, but it''s just so hard... She ran her hand lightly over his crotch. My, what a big boy you are. William sighed, shaking his head. I couldn''t help but notice you''re not moving my hand away... Well, I don''t want to be rude-- William, we need to talk. As his father-in-law came barreling over, William pulled himself loose from Eileen. By the look on Magnuss face, it was unclear if he saw or not. Sure thing, old sport. He called Magnus old sport after something hed read in Gatsby. The man was richer than anyone he knew. Anything William could do to cut him down a peg or two was preferable, seeing as he was nearly 67 and still had much of the muscle tone of his youth, even if he moved much slower nowadays. I see youre back. Magnus said. Is this for good? I think thats between me and my family. Sandyd never tell you this but she had a damn hard time of it while you were gone. Hey, I sent checks-- No, I sent checks. If it was up to me, Id have booted your ass a long time ago-- Good thing its not up to you. Goddamnit Will, you dont know what you being gone did to her! Magnus leaned in, so as not to be overheard. How deadly thin she became... how she cried every night... This last part was news to William, but he tried to pretend it wasnt. What do you want from me, Magnus? Im back now. Sandras father shook his head. Just more of your bullshit... he scoffed. I dont know why Im surprised. Like father, like son... The hell are you talking about? You know I worked with your father, right? When William said nothing, Magnus continued. Yeah, and I remember you too. You were such an eager to please little gopher... He let a smile bloom on his face. I was there the day he jumped. William unconsciously found himself making a fist. Get to it, old sport... You may be back now, but I know you. Youll bolt for the door the second it suits you. You have the same kind of low character that he did. And Ill tell you the same thing I told you when you asked for her hand C you arent worth the clothes on your back. Magnus pushed his way out of the dense crowd. William watched his father-in-law go, realizing that to somepeople once you were poor, you were always poor. ** Downstairs, Janet and Matt were necking on the couch when a passing freshman tripped, spilling beer down Janets back. What the fuck?! she shrieked. Before she knew it, Matt was on his feet, the guys shirtfront clenched in his fist ready to punch him. The freshman wailed, --heyyyy, whats your bag, man! Whats my bag?! Youre about to be number one on the hit parade, thats my bag-- Janet pulled her boyfriend back at the last second. Whoa! she said, trying to diffuse the situation. As the offender staggered away, she turned back to Matt. You were gonna kill that guy! Matt shook the adrenalin off. Yeah, well... I cant promise Ill win, but Ill always stick up for you. Janet smiled, despite herself. She held her shirt away from her body. Im gonna go dry this out... Matt nodded, Yeah, thats probably a good idea. He added, sheepishly, Sorry. Its okay. Janet climbed over the couch and headed for the bathroom. Once she was inside, Cody and Glen Tonche descended the basement stairs. Halfway down, Cody proudly announced, Hey everybody, the Falcon is here! He clapped Glen Tonche on the back as a nameless partygoer wondered aloud why he was called the Falcon. Glen turned to the fella and explained simply: Because I eat chicks. Janet walked out of the bathroom, blotting her shirt with a wad of toilet paper. When she looked up, she saw the Falcon. Later, she would recall that he resembled Robert Plant in his Song Remains the Same sex-god phase: his hair, flowing and curly; a visible bulge in the jeans; an outie belly-button. Janet locked eyes with him and he nodded towards her. It was that simple. Breaking the spell, Janet hurried over to Matt, pulling him by the t-shirt until he followed her over the couch towards the back bedroom. I thought you were gonna dry your shirt? he said. I am, but first I need you to help me out of these wet clothes... He didnt need to be asked twice. As they disappeared into the back room, Glen Tonche yelled angrily to whoever was dee-jaying, would it kill you to play some fucking Cream?! As the music switched off, the door at the top of the basement stairs was kicked open and Maggie paraded down wearing several of Williams ties and one of his trench coats. She called out: Im throwing an old people party! Whos gonna be the Harriet to my Ozzie?! The party cheered. In the back bedroom, Janet scrambled onto the guest bed, quickly pulling her Stones t-shirt off and helping Matt with his belt-- Chapter Three -- April, 1999 (Elvis Costello – “And in Every Home...”) Chapter Three --April, 1999 Elvis Costello C And in Every Home... Some thirty years later, I dropped my mothers writing back into her nightstand and dry-retched. Who the fuck would want to read that?! Taylor, were leaving! my mother yelled from downstairs. Just a second! I said, scrambling. Dinner at our cousins was a Sunday tradition, so it shouldnt have taken me by surprise, but here we were. Looking down into my mothers open bureau, I quickly made the decision to take the manila envelope. From the looks of it, it was several years old, and its absence probably wouldnt go noticed for quite a while. I felt like I was only scratching the surface of who Janet really was. I didnt even know she did anything creative, let alone that she could write so vividly about her past. It made sense though. I had recently started writing short stories of my own, so maybe it was in the genes. I shoved the stack of paper under my shirt and ran up to my room. I lived on the third floor. My sister and I used to share a bedroom, but once she needed her own space, I was banished to the attic. Upstairs, the wallpaper was dusty and covered in cabbage roses. The floor was cold and uncarpeted. And the walls were so thin that my neighbor, Tim, once punched a hole straight through one of them. You could even hear the squirrels that had taken over the birds nest in the roof. Every time I tried to complain to Janet about this, shed just say you have a whole floor to yourself! I hid my mothers thinly-veiled memoir behind a bookshelf and hurried back downstairs. I was rounding the landing of our staircase when I bumped into the compact Asian man that was my little sister. Mom says its time to go! she yelped. I said I was coming C god, youre so annoying! Once when I was younger, I tried to leave her out for the garbage men, but they wouldnt take her, and Mom just ended up giving me a stern talking to. Jesse and I could not have been more different. She loved the outdoors, and I was an indoor cat. She would pass me in the house and marvel at the fact that I wasnt outside enjoying whatever beautiful day was happening outside, even though I told her the sun would ruin my plans of watching seven movies in a row. Also, I had to be careful around the girl. She was a certified narc who would tell on me for anything. I followed her out to the car and reluctantly got into the backseat because Jesse had beat me to shotgun. Before pulling out of the driveway, Janet announced, seatbelt race! and both of us complied without question. Mom had gotten into a really bad car accident in her youth, so it was best to just placate her on this one because if you didnt, she just sat there idling until you gave in. As she drove, I thought about how much of what I read was true. If it was all verbatim then Grandpa was a racist, Mom was a smoker, and Uncle Nick was the luckiest kid alive. I had nothing but questions about Janet and the rest of the family. I know Mom tried hard to make me into the kind of son she always wanted, and I admit, for a while I wanted to be that kid too. When Nick and Sheila went to Bermuda, she brought me with them. She signed me up for French lessons at the middle school during the summer. She begged, borrowed, and stole (Im assuming) to get me the things I needed in life. Still, she knew there were things she could not give me. I think thats why she let me spend so much time at the Vanowens. The Vanowens lived two towns away and had money. The Vanowens had a lake house. They vacationed in the Poconos. They belonged to a country club and had a seven figure, canary yellow house with blue bell flowers out front. I grew up thinking their life was the be all end all. It fit my dreams of what rich kids got. My cousins grew up with the Disney channel, had multiple playrooms, and a mother who picked them up precisely when school was over so that they could watch afternoon T.V. Rich kids didnt do after care. Mostly though, I spent time there because of Cousin Dean, my best friend in the entire world. Unfortunately, with Dean came his parents. Aunt Lynn and Uncle Kev had a way of always triggering my anxiety. Every time I saw them, I felt like I had to be on the defense. As we drove down their street, I unconsciously began to bite my fingernails. Their house sat at the end of a cul de sac and we first saw Kevin Vanowen as we pulled up. He was on the porch shucking corn, which the maid could have done, but knowing Kev hed take any excuse to get outside and smoke a stogie. With his Kirk Douglas chin, he resembled a kind of chubby Chevy Chase. Uncle Kevin was a republican, the life of the party, the kind of guy who gave every kid who came into his house a nickname so that they felt like they belonged. I was known as Dr. Big Head because Im a smart ass. Deans best friend, Avi Schmidt, was obviously known as Schmitty burger! Kev was also the one who came up with his daughter, Amandas, Mandy moo-moo moniker; a rather cruel name that stuck as she was rather large. Not cow large, but you get the point. When he saw us coming up the drive, he brightened. Hey, Dr. Big heads here! Help me shuck this corn, Dr. Big Head! From the age of six to, oh I dont know, twenty, my Uncle Kevin was my natural born enemy. Because my father wasnt around, Uncle Kev took a personal interest in me. And trust me, you do not want Kev to take a personal interest in you. Kev doesnt sleep through the night. Just like my mother, if hes seated for more than three minutes he will fall right to sleep. What this series of micro-naps meant was that if you ever slept over at the Vanowens for the weekend, Uncle Kevin would without fail barge into Deans room at 6:00 a.m. on a Sunday morning and ask what we were doing. I think we learned to curse just to respond in these situations. Were fucking sleeping, Kev! Shut the goddamn door! Undeterred, hed keep asking questions until we screamed at him enough to get our point across. Wait a second, so you guys dont want to get up? hed finally say. Dean and I would scream in unison, Nooo!!! until he finally left. I resented being asked to shuck the corn, because none of his shitty kids would ever be asked to shuck corn. I dont wanna. I groaned. Uncle Kev lived for moments like this. He took a break from shucking to throw a tennis ball for his dumb as rocks Labradors. They took off after the green blur across the dog shit covered lawn. So, lets get this straight C you come to my house, you eat my food, and when I ask for one teensy little favor you bail? Thats it C youre out! Uncle Kev had his own series of catchphrases. They would come out involuntarily if a child wasnt doing what he wanted. Negative, hed say, youre out! if said behavior was to exclude you from taking part in some activity. This became funny when the activity wasnt something you particularly looked forward to doing. Oh, you dont want to go to the model train museum? Fine C youre out! Kev was what effeminate psychiatrists called an alpha male. Even grown men seemed drawn to him. I think its because of his almost supernatural confidence. Sure, he was sort of a slovenly man, but he truly did not give a fuck what anyone thought of him, which becomes very clear if you ever see him dance at a party. If I had to guess where this confidence came from, my bet would probably be his much-whispered about manhood. Growing up, Cousin Kady found a picture of him taken in the eighties, post-skinny dipping. During a party, he had flashed the camera, opening his towel wide enough for the lens to take him in in all his glory. That picture is proudly displayed in one of the Vanowen photo albums. It is literally the only scandalous thing Aunt Lynn has ever been a part of. And you know what? If I was packing that much heat, I might not give a shit what people thought of me either. I left Uncle Kev with his cigar smoke and went inside. The Vanowen house wasnt so much a house as it was a mansion and grounds, with several different wings to it so if you didnt want to see anybody you could absolutely spend the day alone. The first thing people usually noticed about the place was its staircase, the wide mahogany staircase with landings big enough for people to congregate on. Whereas you had to turn sideways to get through parts of my own house, theirs you could practically gallop through. And unlike our house, the Vanowen house was spotless. This was probably because Lynn followed the maid around gently correcting her, showing her the proper way to clean. Aunt Lynn had many, many rules, all of them designed to maximize cleanliness. Of course, her children didnt follow any of them. But I was expected to... Lynn was always the first to spot our arrival, like a basset hound trained to hate headlights. She dressed in pastels and was a notorious gossip and snoop who was suspicious of everybody. The first thing you usually saw of her was her hair; it wasnt blonde, it was gold. She walked over and we gave each other air kisses because, god forbid, we ever touch. Owing to Nannies drinking, Janet practically raised Lynn, a fact my aunt tried hopelessly to forget. I think thats why she let me come over so often. As she led the way through the living room, I watched the odd way she walked. She had the posture of most wasp women; the looseness of childhood had stiffened, leaving her with a permanent tilt of the head, always in judgement, so brittle she was apt to break in two. I cant tell you the number of times when I would do something that didnt mesh with her standards of etiquette and she would stare at me with this withering look of dismissal that made you want to toe the line just so you never had to see it again. I hated that look because it seemed to scream one very important fact: that SHE would never do such a thing. And neither would her children. I dont know when she got like this. When I was much younger, I remember her being loving and maternal. Around kindergarten she bought me a Sesame Street figurine and said, Dont tell Dean or Ill have to buy him one too. I dont know what changed. When Dean was born, she left her job at Good Housekeeping with every intention of returning after maternity leave. And she did for a while. But then Kady was born. And she had to take leave again. When she got pregnant the third time, she started to take the hint. By the time her favorite, baby Ollie, came around, she was a professional mother. She remembered all too well what it was like being born last and doted on her youngest. We sat at the Vanowens kitchen table, but almost immediately Mom and Jesse left to use the bathroom, leaving me alone with Aunt Lynn. Lynn never really warmed to me. It probably goes back to the time when Dean and I had made a mess of his playroom. Uncle Kev told us to clean up, something neither of us wanted to do. Then I had a brilliant idea: if we stuffed everything in the closet nothing would be left on the floor! When Kev came back three minutes later and the place was spotless, he knew something was up. He quickly found the jam-packed closet and told us to clean for real this time. I was so upset my scheme didnt work that I started throwing things over my head out of the closet. Apparently, Dean wasnt looking when I hurled the wooden chair. It caught him on the chin. He ended up needing thirty-three stiches! So, when it came to Lynn, I had hurt her baby boy and from then on, I wasnt to be trusted. Maybe I was being too hard on her. I remembered a story Mom had told me once about her and Lynn running into Pete at a liquor store one Christmas not too long ago. Lynn followed him out into the parking lot, shouting, I hope youre happy this time of the year! How do I reconcile that Lynn with the one who was permanently cold? The way shed look at me sometimes... It was as if she had stepped off the pages of Ordinary People or Bonfire of the Vanities. In the early eighties, when her husbands packaging materials company was flush, she was said to have spent upwards of $5,000 a week on shopping. Shed make runs into the city, to the Short Hills mall, to Jordan Marsh, all in an effort to decorate the perfect house. But the kids... she couldnt keep up with the kids... little sociopaths that accused her of being a destroyer of fun. They ruined the house faster than she or the maid could keep it clean. Shed find evidence of their misdeeds, but when she tried to confront them, theyd lie, frequently, and without guilt. They ate like animals, stole from each other. Their sadistic dumps would wreck the toilets to the point that Lynn had to start buying very thin toilet paper that youd have to ball up tightly if you didnt want shit on your hands. The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. When they were young all her kids looked like little aryans; handsome, imperfect youths that Kevin and Lynn could take to the club and proudly be seen chauffeuring about town. People have always been drawn to them. I know I was for the longest time. Later I knew better. But they presented well. They trick or treated for Unicef, they made appearances in school pageants. Its only now that I realize how jealous I was of them. They could make all the mistakes they wanted. Because they had the money to fix it. I asked where everyone was. Lynn told me that Amanda was in her room, which was no surprise as the girl usually had to be told dinner was ready before shed emerge. She loved trash television that much. That, or she was agoraphobic. She had a number of crippling fears, among them lightning, which meant that she couldnt be alone in the house during a thunderstorm without calling Nannie or some other relative to come over and, what? Stop the lightning? Like clockwork, her skinny older sister, Kady, came bustling in the front door carrying Burger King. Oh, you have got to be kidding me, Lynn said out-loud when she saw. I told you I was making dinner! Kady shrugged, Im sorry, I forgot... She let the silence fill the space between her and her mother. Lauras mom took us through the drive-thru. What do you expect - me to not get anything? Yes! Lynn shrieked. Kady made a pump the breaks motion. Its fine, mom C I can eat again. Lynn scoffed, sitting back with her chardonnay. You dont have to tell me that... Hey! Kady stomped her feet and glared at her mother. Lynn explained. All Im saying is, no one wants to hug a fatty! Kadys mouth went agog. She glowered at Lynn. No one was actually saying anything though, so I thought it would be a pretty good time to laugh hysterically. Kady turned on me, pissed. What are you doing here?! You werent even invited! She didnt wait for an answer. She marched out of the room, passing Mom who was returning from the bathroom. Hi-ya, Kates! Janet said, brightly. To the Vanowen kids, my mother was the fun aunt. Every time they saw her, they had the nerve to ask if she had prezzies for them. But now, Kady just put a hand in her face. Dont talk to me! she barked, stomping away on her long, mosquito bitten legs that she scratched to no end. Mom called after her. Excuse me? Did I miss something?! Kady whirled around, yelling Ask her! Apparently, we live in Communist France! before disappearing up into the room she shared with Amanda, which was like storing napalm and dynamite together. All of this reminded me of a classic Kady story. When she was nine, she once took a penny and carved Fuck you, youre fired into her babysitters car. I wasnt saying we were on track to surpass that, but it was certainly shaping up to be a memorable night. Whenever her children ran roughshod over her, Lynn would focus her anger on someone else. Namely, my mother. Mom tried to sit down next to Lynn at the kitchen table only to find that her baby sister was hogging the space. Are you gonna move over? Lynn just stared at her. How much room do you need? Oh, do not start. Havent you been going to your meetings? Mom looked anywhere else. Is there alcohol? Uncle Kev wandered in from outside, having finished his cigar. He placed the shucked corn on the counter and spotted my mother, Well hello there, Auntie Em! See? The guy loved nicknames. You made good time C no meeting today? he smirked. He and his wife thought of my mother as a silly old coot that was fun to needle. Like most bullies they focused on her weight. No, those are in the morning. Seeing that Janet wasnt in the mood, Uncle Kev turned his attention on to me. So, Taylor... I read your story. I turned, furious, to Mom. You sent him my story?! I loved it! Whats not to like?! she said in defense. Kevin continued, seemingly immune to my outrage. Let me get this straight C its basically about a bunch of retarded people in England running a motel? Yes, youve successfully parroted the plot back to me. Well, I guess I dont get it then. Kind of seems like something a mentally unbalanced person would write... Now was as good a time as any to re-ask my earlier question: So where is everybody? But Kev was a dog with a bone. Taylor, what are your plans for this summer? I dont know... television? I think you should come to Hillcrest. Ill show you around the club. Dean will introduce you to people. Itll be great. I was beginning to worry that Kev was taking an active interest in me. Fortunately, I didnt have to think about it for long as Dean and Ollie returned from a hockey game C Dean from playing, Ollie from watching. Ollie worshipped his older brother and would follow him anywhere. He was the youngest of all the cousins and a surprise in a marriage that had already been going on for fifteen years. He had quickly achieved the rank of Lynns favorite, the golden child that Dean never could have been. He was a pretty cute kid, with a mischievous grin and a childhood lisp that he wouldnt shake until he was a teenager. But he could be manipulative and overly charming, moving people around like they were chess pieces. And if he didnt get what he wanted, he had scary rage issues. You win? Kev asked his oldest. Dean shook his head, still too disappointed to talk about it. He had a head full of curly hair and could look like either an eighties bully or cupid depending on the time of day. We did our patented, secret handshake and I told him about the Wilburys CD I had just gotten. We argued about whether or not there was a Traveling Wilburys Volume Two but couldnt come to a decision. Dean insisted, Im telling you Ive seen it! Then you saw a fake because it doesnt exist! They skip volume 2 C thats the joke. Uncle Kev felt left out. What are you talking about? The second Traveling Wilburys album. Doesnt exist. It goes from volume 1 to volume 3, thats the joke. I nodded. Thats what I said. Dean swears hes heard it. I have! I sneered. Oh yeah? Like you heard that lost beach boys album? Kev had heard enough. Thats not rock thats surf music, you kids lump everything together. Feeling challenged, I asked, Then whats real music? Mom chimed in, The Doors! But Kevin only shook his head. Terrible. Carnival music. I sometimes think Dean and I would have been much happier living in the sixties and seventies. I said as much, but this Kev could not abide. It wasnt that great. You guys have the internet. If we made a mistake typing, we had to start the page again! Wasnt there that white-out option on typewriters? I asked. Kev shrugged me off. Eh, it never worked. Youd turn in papers and theyd have so many gaps in them theyd look like redacted documents. Dean looked over at his mother. Mom, Im hungry C when are we eating? Not everybodys here. Oh, dont tell me theyre coming... They were Uncle Bill and Aunt Beth. Every family needed black sheep and that was these two. Bill had married a woman who weighed 85 lbs. soaking wet and I was terrified of her. She smoked Merit ultra-lights, her teeth colored from smoking or yellowed from neglect. Nevertheless, how she loved to smile, thinking it endeared her to people. When 9/11 happened, she picked up their son early from school and like a looney bird said only Were under attack. Bill, on the other hand, was no prize either. The fifties crewcut he wore throughout childhood was now an altar boy combover that just underlined how prematurely old he looked. He was known to spend hours watching soap operas and chain-smoking. He would get drunk and scream at his son Eddies soccer matches. He and his wife were not rich by any means, but the fact that both of them somehow held down jobs made it so that they could live in Chatham and their son could go to school in district. Lynn threw up her hands. Dont look at me. I didnt invite them... She peered at my mother from the corner of her eye. Subtle, Lynn. Its called family. Something told me that Aunt Lynn would have cut ties with that side of the family long ago if it werent for Nannie and Mom. Well, when family reeks of cigarettes and gives my best friend an ear rub for Christmas, I retract the invite. Dean perked up. wait.... what happened? Oh, you didnt hear this? Lynn was in full-on gossip mode. Last Christmas, Beth gets drunk, sits on the couch next to Todd Hyde, and rubs his ear for the better part of fifteen minutes-- Ugh, I woulda cut my ear off! Dean blurted out, overstating it a bit. Even Uncle Kev couldnt avoid the cattiness. I was telling Lynn, I cant be sure, but I think the mouthwash gets emptier every time they come over. Lynn nodded, taking another sip from her wine. I drew a line on the bottle, so well know for sure. When they showed up soon after, everything anybody said seemed to take on a special subtext. Lynn threw down the gauntlet first, asking them if they wanted anything to drink. Beth waved her hands, oh none for me thanks, Im on a special diet. As everyone exchanged furtive glances, she sat there like the cat that ate the canary, not wanting to give anyone the satisfaction. When dinner was served minutes later C which heavily featured Lynns special ingredient, mayonnaise C Beth hardly ate anything. After a few minutes, she excused herself to the bathroom, passing Amanda. Was anyone going to tell me dinner started? We all laughed. This wasnt the first time Amanda had been forgotten. A quiet girl, she was often getting skipped over in the face of her louder siblings drama. Kev motioned, Grab a plate, mandy-moo. I dont know if I can eat, she said. Theyre bulldozing Castle Park tomorrow. Turning it into a parking lot... Kev brightened. You hear that, Lynn? Theyre putting a parking lot in on Maple! Oh, that is a godsend! Its so busy over there! How could you say that? I spent my childhood there! Amanda suffered from a valley girl twang, every sentence ending in a question mark, a consequence of having seen Clueless so many times. Even though she was practically traumatized at the notion of her childhood playground being razed, she was still able to grab a plate and pile it high with mashed potatoes. Im gonna eat in my room... she said, heading off. You eat with family or not at all! Kev barked. Amanda made her way, sadly, to an empty chair. Watching her go, I chimed in. You guys are so mean to her! Amandas my favorite cousin. Dean felt slighted. How is Amanda your favorite cousin?! Because she doesnt bother me. I still tell that story about her and the change. What story? Amanda asked between bites. When you said, change is stupid, I just throw it out! Amandas face reddened, hating the spotlight. Oh, I dont do that anymore... Lynn immediately dropped her fork on her plate. Yes, you do Mandy - the maid told me she keeps finding coins in your trash! We had ourselves a good laugh after that one. Well, most of us. I watched as Mom told Jesse what to eat and what not to eat. Tonight, it was steamed vegetables. My sister sat there looking miserable and staring longingly at the chicken parmesan. I was about to say something when Beth returned from the bathroom. As she settled in, Lynn made up an excuse and quickly excused herself. When she came back holding a near empty bottle of mouthwash, I knew the night was about to get legendary. She loudly announced to Kevin, Hun? We need to remember to pick up more mouthwash. I turned to Dean, wide-eyed, whispering, the chardonnay whisperer strikes again! He snickered as Lynn threw the bottle in the trash. We chanced a look at Beth. She was staring at Lynn, coldly. Whereas Uncle Bill constantly watched soap operas, Aunt Beth thought she was IN a soap opera. I know what youre up to, she said quietly to Lynn, then walked calmly out of the kitchen. Everyone waited a nervous moment until she was barely out of earshot, then we burst out laughing. Things devolved from there. Bill thanked Mom for inviting them into a vipers nest, whatever that meant, and soon they were screaming at each other at the top of their lungs. Dinner didnt go on for much longer. At some point when Mom and Bill were arguing, Aunt Beth reappeared. She saw me watching them go at it and decided to explain this whole adults fighting thing to me. That it was normal, and I shouldnt worry about it. She promised me that nothing had changed C she would still be my favorite Aunt. I just stared at her. As they were leaving, Bill stormed off to grab his and Beths coats. When he returned, he saw me eyeing him. He turned back, apologizing quickly and quietly, saying Sorry, theres a lot of history there... In the car after dinner, we rode in silence, Jesse and I too afraid to speak first. When Mom finally said something, it was out of the blue. I dont know why he married her. Huh? I said, unsure for a moment who it was we were talking about. Bill. I think he knew he was gonna drink for the rest of his life so he chose someone who wouldnt object. She stared straight ahead as she continued to drive. I dont know how we got here. He used to be my best friend in the world, then one day he just stopped being Bill... You used to be friends with Uncle Bill? Who when we asked him what he was thankful for last Christmas said ''rock salt?'' That Bill? She nodded. He used to be the funniest person I knew. Not only didnt I find Uncle Bill funny, I couldnt even remember him ever making a joke. All I knew about my Uncle was that he drank a bottle of vodka nightly without vomiting and thought Days of Our Lives worthy of taping. What do you mean ''he just stopped being Bill one day?'' Who''d he become? If I tell you this, you promise not to breathe a word of it-- Oh yeah, I''ll tell him about it next time we hang out! About thirty years ago, out of the clear blue sky he decides not to come home. He ran away? One day the school called and said he hadn''t come in yet. Turns out instead of going to class he got on a bus to D.C. My friend, Tilly Boyd, found his books tossed behind a bush... I pictured the movie in my head: Tilly Boyd going out to catch a football and landing in a bush, near some abandoned textbooks. I still remember the night before he ran away. To this day, I couldnt tell you why he did it. I didnt know why I was asking so many questions about my family. They liked to trade stories about how great they once were. I think I was most curious about Bill, because he never seemed to. All I knew about their generation was that they ended a war by complaining. But for all their flaws, for all their blind boasting, theyve always fascinated me. How did they get like this and how, for the love of God, could I avoid it? My family tree was littered with lost causes. But maybe if I looked back - if I saw where they all started to go wrong - I could be someone that mattered. I want to know everything, I finally said. The bad parts too. Taylor, its late... Come on! Why all this worry? You barely know Bill. I know, I said. I''m trying. Chapter Four -- March, 1968 (Moody Blues – “Nights in White Satin”) Chapter Four --March, 1968 Moody Blues C Nights in White Satin It was an unseasonably warm spring day as Bill pulled his fathers baby blue caddy into the white stone driveway. Janet, sitting shotgun, moved to get out but Bill stopped to comb his hair tight with the brylcreem he kept in the glove box. Janet watched skeptically as he groomed himself in the rear-view mirror. It''s just our family in there, loser. She slammed the passenger door shut and left him to catch up. Grabbing the groceries from the back seat, Bill headed around the side of the house. Nick was sitting in the garden with his sketchpad, trying to draw a tulip singing to bees. When he heard laughing coming from the back fence, he put the pad down and crawled over to a knot in the wood. Through the hole he spied his drunken neighbor, Connerty, crawling into the lap of Mrs. Connerty. She was topless and welcoming, sitting next to their backyard pool, among the tiki torches and plastic flamingos. When Connerty growled, she squealed in delight. This, Nick thought, was all that adults cared about, all that they had on their minds. He was about to shift to get a closer look, when his brother called out-- Hey fruitfly, get away from the fence! Nick stumbled backwards, spooked, and ran through his mothers garden back towards the house. Im not a fruitfly! he yelled when he reached Bill. His older brother playfully backhanded his head. Moms gonna kill you for runnin through her zinnias. Shes not gonna know! She will if I tell her! Upstairs in her bedroom, Sandra smoothed Lynns hair in her make-up mirror ringed with glamour lights. Maybe I could dye it? Lynn suggested, hopefully. Oh, sweetheart... her mother said, charitably. Dyed hair is for whores. Sandra had had a few. She took a sip of her over-flowing drink, then checked her make-up next to her daughter. But youre on the right track. She smiled at Lynn, maternally. There is always room for self-improvement. Lynn nodded, soaking the advice in. I think you look beautiful, mom. I know, sweetheart. ** Having changed into a two-piece bathing suit, Janet went out back with a towel to tan in the warm spring air. Reclining on a lounge chair, she plopped her AM radio down next to her. When she switched it on, the dulcet tones of Jefferson Airplanes Today came blaring out. As she lowered the volume, Cody and Bill hurried out to sneak a cigarette. They lit up nearby, much to Janets annoyance. She propped herself up on her elbows to rip them a new one. You guys are being stupid. You''re gonna get caught. By who? Mom and Dad are in the living room. Cody let his eyes train over Janets body. Hi, Janet. She stared at him, humorlessly. Cody. Bill went right on smoking. They''re gonna smell it, dipshit! No, they''re not! Mom has allergies and Dad''s got a bad knee, we''d hear him coming a mile away! So why don''t you mind your own business?! Janet sat up, pissed they were cutting into her prime tanning time. You''re an idiot. Nannie and Pop-pop are coming over. Cody grinned. Your Grandpa''s coming over?! Does he still hate squirrels as much as he used to? Bill nodded. About as much as Grandma hates Mickey Dolenz. Cody chuckled to himself. That dude is ''weird with a beard, man! Janet rolled her eyes and laid back down, done with them. ** Sometime later, with their cigarettes finished, Cody snuck into Janets bedroom. He looked over his shoulder before opening her top dresser drawer. He stared in wonder at all of her glorious underwear. He was just about to reach in when Janet returned from the shower, drying her hair with a towel. Seeing her, Cody quickly grabbed a handful of panties and high-tailed it out of her room. Janet tried to chase him, but he was too fast. Dammit Cody, that''s the last pair of underwear you steal from me! Snickering, he was almost down the hall when he ran straight into Mr. Benson in the hallway. A little too old to be stealing womens undergarments, arent we? Cody handed them over, caught. Sorry, sir... Youll just have to talk a woman out of them - like the rest of us. There was an unspoken tip of the cap. Cody smiled, sheepishly, and hurried downstairs. William walked the underwear back to Janet. Lose something? She took them back, grateful, and stuffed them in her drawer. Thanks, hes relentless. Better get a move on, were leaving soon. I know. William headed for the door. You look nice, by the way. Im not even dressed yet... Well, Im sure you will look nice. He exited, closing the door behind him as he went. Women were always throwing themselves at William. If her father was complimenting her, Janet thought, she must be doing something right. She dressed for dinner then, throwing on a long-sleeved mini dress and mary janes. She evaluated herself in the mirror. As a teenager, she could stand in front of the mirror for hours, making faces, preening like a bird. But something wasnt right. Too wholesome maybe... This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. Then it came to her. Grabbing a couple safety pins, she hiked the dress up a couple inches. Looking at her reflection now, she nodded, satisfied. ** The family stood by their Cadillac waiting for Janet to emerge from the house. William was off to the side, avoiding his father-in-law. He pulled anxiously at his collar like a kid in church. His clothes often seemed like they didnt fit him. Not that they werent perfectly tailored, there was just something uncomfortable about seeing him in some of the nicer duds. He was fiddling with his cuffs when he noticed Bill absent-mindedly chewing on his cuticles. What did I tell you about biting your fingernails? William said. Bill reluctantly dropped his hand to his side. That its a sign of weakness. He rolled his eyes as his sister finally came out of the house. Janet, why are we always waiting for you? her father asked. What took you so long? Grandma Jean wanted to know. Sorry Nan, couldnt find what to wear. Lynn took one look at her older sister and frowned. You look like one of those hippies. Shut up, I do not... Yes, you do! And shes wearin bad girl underwear, mom! Lynn! No, Im not, mom! Before a fight could break out, William shouted, Everyone, quiet! Lynn, your sister looks very pretty tonight. And Janet... He lowered his voice so only she could hear him. ...well talk later. Now get in the car. William slid in the drivers seat, still sipping his drink, much to Lynns chagrin. Daddy! Lynn wailed. William waved her off. Its fine! ** At Morris County Country Club, the grounds would have been sprawling even if there wasnt a thirty-six hole golf course on the property. They had an Olympic-sized outdoor pool, about a dozen tennis courts, a cabana area, and a full working gym and spa. When the Bensons arrived, young men waited to take their car, to open the door for them. As they entered the clubhouse, William led the way in his seersucker jacket. All around them, families were seated having dinner. Though she was hardly five feet tall at the time, Lynn couldn''t help but notice the way that people reacted to them, especially the men. They stared at her sister, mouths agape. Lynn subconsciously began mirroring everything she was doing. At the moment, Janet was dragging behind. She passed Allen Buchard, an overweight 43-year-old, going the other way. He turned to watch her walk away. Sensing him staring, Janet flipped around to catch him. Gotcha! she said. Buchard immediately looked away and stumbled off, ashamed. Janet frowned. She didnt mean to scare anyone off... Buchard quickly regrouped and headed towards the bar area. It was recently renovated with stained wood and green translucent fixtures. He joined the other fathers standing around, drinking their whiskey-sours: Hi, boys. Allen. Thats Bills daughter... Get out! What''s she seventeen? Try fifteen. Somebody call Jailbait Digest, boys! The group laughed but stifled it as William chose that moment to walk over. A lot of talent here tonight, gentleman. He ordered a stinger from the bartender and pointed to the cigar in the guy next to hims hand. You got one of those for me? Harry Prager fished another out of his jacket without objection. Hey Bill, if my wife asks, I was eating the cucumber slices. Those married over ten years chuckled. Ya hear Millie Runkoff wears a girdle? No! Bet your ass she does. Must be a mess down there!" As the group cackled, Bill watched his father from afar. Hey Will, you hear that Kennedy announcement? Oh, dont get me started-- The group laughed again, charitably. Hes taking all the wind outta McCarthys sails. Vic Partha shrugged. I dont know, the kids like him... Kids dont vote, Vic. Still, you got Khe Sanh going with no end in sight and the picture of that cop shooting that prisoner didnt help... you cant underestimate someone who wants to get us out of there. Whose side are you on, Vic?! Im just saying New Hampshire was close, thats all... Bill appeared at his fathers side. Dad? Mom says our tables ready. William seized on the interruption, throwing an arm around his son. Boys, you remember Bill, my oldest, dont you? Bills President of his class at Pingry. Very impressive. My daughter Julie wants to go there in a couple years. Got any advice for her? Just... stay away from the boys. Oh, how everyone howled. William turned and smiled at his son. Bill stood in his fathers glow until William led him away. Good one, son. Im glad we get this little chance to talk. Ive been meaning to speak with you. You know, Ive given this a lot of thought and... well, I think its time you moved down to the first floor. William kept walking, but soon noticed that Bill wasnt by his side. What did I do? Bill asked. Nothing. Its just... your mother and I have been talking. Lynns getting older and I think it would be best if she had the room next to ours. So, she could be closer to Mom. He clapped his son on the back. You understand - dont you? Bill nodded, somewhere else entirely. William sat down at their table, but there were still a few stragglers. Has anyone seen Nick? Sandra wanted to know. Everyone shook their heads. Beneath a nearby table, Nick crawled amongst peoples legs, pausing every so often to stare up into the shadowy recesses of a womans skirt. He had the most ridiculously awed look on his face. While the family waited for their food to arrive, Janet stole away to the patio to smoke a quick cig. She was surprised to see she wasnt alone. Glen Tonche stood all by himself, finishing his own cigarette. Its you... Janet said. He smiled when he saw her. Its me. Janet tried to look effortless. I didnt know you belonged here. We belong to a lot of places... he said, trailing off. You got a name? She smiled. Yeah. And held up her cigarette. You got a lighter? No, but we can knuckle fuck if you want... Janet blushed and stepped towards him. The two of them were quiet while she lit her cigarette off of his. I take it youre one of those liberated girls? Glen asked. Janet took a long pull off her ciggy and replied while exhaling. Youll just have to wait and see, now wont you? ** Back in the dining hall, William was in the middle of a story. I said, what do you get for the man who has everything? and the guy doesnt even blink. He goes: Seconds." Everyone at the table reared back, laughing, as Janet returned from the smoking patio. She took her seat next to Matt Learner. He watched as she scooted her chair in and had to catch his breath. What? she asked, a smirk on her face. Nothing. He grinned. She fixed her hair. Under the table, they touched knees. When the waiter came to take their orders, Janet said, Ill have the filet and the pomme frites. Nearby, Sandra clucked her tongue, without looking up from her menu. Janet sighed. What is it, mother? Nothing. If you think you can work it off... She popped a pill in her mouth. Janet did her best to ignore her mother. Im sure Ill be fine. She waited until Sandra was occupied before leaning in to speak confidentially with the waiter. Instead of the fries, you can make it a salad. When everyone had finally ordered, William turned his attention to Janets boyfriend. So, Matt-- Yes, sir? he said, turning to what was hopefully his future father-in-law. What are your plans for college? Well, Williams undergrad - god willing - Yale Law, an Officers post, then hopefully, county comptroller or state representative. William raised a glass. A man with a plan... I like that. Reminds me of my oldest, Bill here-- But Bill had started to tear up. When William noticed, his lips pulled back in a sneer. He quickly leaned in to whisper to his first born, Dont make a scene. Excuse yourself--" Before he could even finish speaking, Bill addressed the entire table. Excuse me. He said before getting up and leaving. The next morning, he ran away. When he came back after three days, everything was different. He was called in for a school meeting and sat with his mother across from his schools elderly headmaster, Mr. Andrews. I''m sorry son, but what kind of example would we be setting? We can''t very well let you be class president anymore... Bill couldnt believe what he was hearing, but let the words wash over him. When he hadnt spoken in quite a while, he was asked to say something in his own defense. Bill simply leaned forward in his seat. But, I didn''t run away from school... I ran away from home. But by that point, it didnt matter. Chapter Five -- May, 1999 (Prince – “Darling Nikki”) Chapter Five --May, 1999 Prince C Darling Nikki I found myself sitting next to Dean in the way back of my Uncles Chevy Suburban, the only car capable of hauling the entire Vanowen brood. Kev was making good on his promise of taking me around the club. In front of us, the girls were fighting. Get off me, you lez-bo! Kady bellowed. Youre touching me, gay wad! Amanda punched her sister in the thigh, which just led to more screaming. In the passenger seat, Aunt Lynn rubbed her temples. If either of you give me a headache, therell be hell to pay! The girls quieted down, if only for a minute. Dean and I returned to our conversation. Doesnt it bother you? I asked, my voice lowered. These are secrets theyve been keeping from us our entire lives... I try not to think about what my parents were like growing up. It helps me sleep at night. It was clear Dean wasnt remotely interested. But I had been thinking about Moms story about Bill for the last few weeks. It was a little alarming that Uncle Bill and I had something in common, namely having to change rooms to make space for a younger sibling. I hoped that was where the similarities ended. Mom may have thought that losing his room to Lynn was the whole reason he ran away, but I was pretty certain that the reason Bill cried was because William was treating Matt like a son. As we neared Hillcrest, I reviewed what I knew about the place. It was not as big as Canoe Brook or Morris County, but their coffers were just as full. Hillcrest benefited from the fact that it was located in Summit-proper, built right into the mountainside, a true playground for the rich. Unlike its competitors, they had a restrictive membership; admittance was granted only by invitation or sponsorship. Lynn explained the class system that existed at most country clubs. There were two types of people: the new money Armenians with their McMansion eyesores and the idle rich, who drew their wealth from family inheritance, not personal achievement. She said you could always tell the latter from the sense of entitlement they had and the way they always seemed to have time on their hands. And they werent wealthy, they were comfortable. But they never flaunted it. Wasps dont flaunt, Lynn said. New money flaunts. We arrived to find the entrance guarded, because they couldnt let just anybody in. Lynn seemed to know the person, though. Hi, Ben! she smiled warmly. The security guard gave me a once over before waving us through the gate. The first thing I noticed was the smell. It evoked, not money, but a certain carefree-ness that in and of itself ultimately led you back to thinking about money. The lawn was mown by the kind of mowers that hoovered up the grass after it cut it. I had experience with such mowers as the Vanowens had one. They were pains in the ass. You could only mow for about ninety seconds at a time before the bag was full and you had to empty it. By the time you restarted the mower, you were covered in sweat. But it was hard to argue with the results. Kevin parked in their allotted spot near the pro-shop and all of us piled out. We followed the decorative stone walkways that led up towards the patio. The patio was strung with Christmas lights, but unlike my house these didnt seem out of place for late spring. The sun-soaked deck overlooked an Olympic-sized lap pool and as we entered the pool area, there they were: Presbyterians. I have met walking, talking caricatures before and at least they were honest about only caring about one thing. This new breed was more serpentine than that. But it was in everything they did; the clothes they wore and the smiles they tossed off, the ease with which they lived. They didnt subvert clichs, they were busy making new ones. I watched them, biding their time until retirement: Florida for the wet heat, Arizona for the dry. They lived in New Jersey, but New England was their playground, the Mid-Atlantic their backyard. Forget Greenwich and New Canaan; Connecticut may have had the blue blood reputation, but there were just as many commuters in New Jersey. Despite what Lynn thought, there were far more varieties of rich than what she imagined. There were the George Hamiltons, the liver-spotted dont give a fucks who dropped brain in the locker rooms, standing up for their wives against imagined insults from young punks in shopping mall parking lots. There were family men in their early thirties who were probably seeing their kids for the first time all week. Most of them already had a wandering eye. The trophy wives that married them found car commercials erotic; the Christmas Lexus with the bow on it especially doing the trick. I heard peals of cynical laughter as over-the-hill housewives flirted out in the open with the bronzed, twenty-something whistle-spinners that worked as lifeguards, yelling at their kids not to run. I noticed Lynn waving to some of these people from across the patio. Theyd return the gesture with a surprised smile on their face. It all seemed so... fake. I decided to try it for myself. And it worked! Every person I waved to kept doing it back. So, I really leaned into it, smiling until my face hurt. There he is! Id say. Good to see you again! Dean laughing only fueled my antics. When am I gonna get you on my boat?! I asked an old man. Kevin caught me doing this and instead of being upset, clapped me on the back, saying, There ya go, Taylor! Thats the spirit! But Lynn wasnt having any of it. No Kev, hes making fun of these people. I dropped my arms to my side. Well, that was fun while it lasted. She leaned in to chastise me. Just be normal, she said. These people are my friends. I replied, All of them? but she was too far ahead of me by then. I couldnt believe it. She was embarrassed of me?! And before I got to tell her how embarrassed I was of her! I got the subtext of what she was saying: the rich behaved, the poor did not. Susan Schmidt had commandeered several pool chairs in anticipation of our arrival. She waved us over and I saw Lynn smile genuinely for the first time all day. These two were thick as thieves, practically joined at the hip. Before she sat though, she asked a porter to replace one of their chairs since it had a leaf on it. When her fresh chair arrived, she tucked in next to Susan and spent the next hour making cruel remarks about anyone who passed in an effort to get Susan to laugh. How Mr. Barsonne was unseasonably pale, how his wifes newly capped teeth meant she was having an affair. Lynn gossiped to show she was better than someone, which put her in good company. Here gossiping was a contact sport. Susan howled at each bon motte. When she shared some of her own Lynn would slap her lightly on the arm saying youre terrible which I knew shed gotten from Nannie because no ones said youre terrible in years. I looked at the food court menu and thanked Christ that the Vanowens were paying because I couldnt even afford a side of fries. But at $14.75, who could?! Susans son climbed out of the pool wearing a speedo. Apparently, he did this whenever he swam. I guess he thought it made him look European or something. The confidence pissed me off because his body wasnt even that great. He talked Dean and me into heading over to the bocce ball courts where a few of their friends were. I was nervous. I spent so much time with adults that I didnt really know how to act around other youths. Id always gotten off on the wrong foot with Deans friends. First, there was the Thompson Twins debacle where I went in for a cool guy handshake and everybody laughed. Then, there was the Hitler Youth joke I made to Avi, forgetting for a moment that he was, in fact, Jewish. Deans two best friends were Schmidt and Hudson Vaughn. Hudson was without a doubt the most popular kid in all of New Jersey. Ive been in other states and people still know who Hudson is, which was surprising because to me he looked a bit like Ron Howard. He had the same combover haircut as Uncle Bill and refused to be seen in anything other than a polo shirt and khakis. Whereas he was treated with a real reverence, Avi, on the other hand, was treated as the joke of the group, someone people laughed at and not with. He was sickly pale and acne-ridden, which couldnt have helped his case much. As we reached the courts, Hudson was about to pitch a bocce when he looked up and saw Avi. Look at this little bitch! He went to high five his friend. This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. Schmidt accepted it, his face red. Hey, huddy... Okay, I thought, thats one way to treat a friend. Dean introduced me around. When I got to Hudson, he pointed to my shirt. What is that? he asked. I looked down at my off-brand polo. What is what? Hudson laughed and pointed again at the little animal sewn onto the breast. Is that a platypus?! Wheres the polo horse? I felt eyes on me. People were starting to stare. These are actually rarer, so... I trailed off and the silence enveloped us. Thankfully, Dean continued on with the introductions. I felt stupid being intimidated by people who were a year younger than me. But these were mostly trust fund babies, all jawline and broad forehead. They were children of hedge fund managers, corporate raiders with seats on the New York stock exchange, men who worked in the Mayors office. And here they were giving each other dead arms and ball taps. When they werent swimming, they wore Brooks Brothers and Vinyard Vines, Nantucket reds with popped Lacoste collars. They attended feeder schools for the ivies: St. Pauls, Groton, and Exeter. They talked about rowing crew and some dyke at Wellesley. I overheard snippets of conversation: Are they upper-upper class or lower-upper class? Im telling you they have a mansion AND grounds. Are they south of the highway or North? Id believe ten mil if you said it was south. One of the Thompson Twins came out of the blue to ask Dean where his hot sister was. Dean appeared confused. I dont have any hot sisters, Chris. You know, the one whos hot and kind of a bitch... Kady? Ew, you think your sisters hot?! Hey guys, this kid thinks his sisters hot! Dean went as red as Schmidt had. No! Shes fucking ugly! What about the fat one? The one whos gonna kill herself in high school? People were laughing, quietly shocked. So, Dean laughed with them. Yeah, shes totally gonna off herself... he said, his eyes on the ground. Seeing how little it took for Dean to sell his family out, I left the circle of young turks and drifted towards a sympathetic group of girls nearby. Normally, Dean gets shy around girls, but not me. They sat on a grassy hill just off the cement deck. There was tiny Stephanie Bisch who had this perfect, studious face with an adorable witchs nose. She had slender piano playing hands and I imagined them briefly handling something else. As much as you wanted to hit on her you knew on some level that she probably wouldnt date anyone until college and then it would most likely only be one of her professors. Next to her was Lauren whose face was round like the moon, but who was whip smart and loved talking shit to the rest of the guys. Of all Deans friends, she and I seemed to get along the best. We were laughing together when Schmidt wandered over carrying a slushie from the patio bar. Lauren, have you seen the top to my drink? Lauren got very serious, very quickly. Dont you fucking dare, Schmidt! Schmidt stifled a laugh. I just hope I dont spill this... Hudson, who had clearly precipitated this, stood several feet away giggling and waiting to see what would happen. Lauren got to her feet and started back-pedaling, but she was too slow. By the time, she turned to run, Schmidt had caught up with her, dumping his entire slushie over her head. Lauren wasted absolutely no time in beating the ever-loving shit out of Avi as everyone died laughing. Behind the melee, I saw Uncle Kevin return from the pool bar, balancing an overflowing drink. Deans friends lit up. Kev-bo, as they called him, was a crowd favorite. As always, everybody got a nickname; which I was starting to realize was just Kevins way of never remembering anyones name. Eventually, he dragged everybody over to our corner with the pool chairs. Lynn played the doting host, laughing amiably at the boneheaded things her sons friends said. Hudson took a major swing by kissing her on the hand. Mrs. Vanowen you get prettier and prettier every time I see you! he said. I groaned, but Lynn just brushed him off. Oh, you old charmer! In my eyes, the club was a bust. I was counting the minutes until we could leave when I heard a voice ask, Hey, whered you guys go? The sun was in my eyes, so I had to throw up a hand to block it to see who had spoken. She had lightly sunburned skin with white blonde hair and freckles along the bridge of her nose. Her wholesome, mid-western face, like a farmers daughter, had a smile so earnest, so gullible, that you wanted to corrupt her. She had jogged over from the bocce ball courts after returning from the bathroom and finding her friends gone. Her feet, still wet from the pool, left little prints on the concrete. I followed them up her legs to her bathing suit, unconsciously playing the first thirty seconds of Good Vibrations in my head. Growing up a tomboy, she was just realizing her power over men. She grinned at us from under her bangs. I went over to the courts and you were gone. I learned later her name was Layla Tonche, the wild child daughter of the richest man at the club. Now Im a man of science, a man of reason, but in the moment, all I could think of was blood-pumping carnality. My thoughts were a letter to Penthouse. I blush to even think it... We were suddenly alone on the deck, not a soul around. Layla had her hands on her hips. When she saw me, she yelped angrily, hey! before marching over and shoving me roughly to my knees. Before I could protest, she pulled her soggy bathing suit bottoms down until they were nestled under her cheeks. Grabbing me by the back of the neck, she pulled my mouth to her. I was happily smothered against plump skin that had never seen the light of day. She quietly and urgently fucked my face until she came, and when she did, her ass clenched viciously, rocked by a spastic shudder. I forced the daydream to an end before my erection could become visible. Layla had moved on to introducing herself to the adults. She was well-mannered and bowled them over with how polite she was. As they fawned over Layla, I watched golden boy Hudson sidle up to her. How we doin, Layla? He was doing some kind of growly-voice. Layla rolled her eyes. She seemed as chaste as whole milk just then. But as she left, I spotted a tiny Playboy bunny holding her bathing suit together. I gulped. And I wasnt the only person watching her. Dean couldnt keep his eyes off of her. When Mom came to pick me up several hours later, she sent Jesse up to tell me it was time to go. My sister burst into the pool area and, misjudging the volume of her voice, yelled, Taylor, Mom says to get out of the pool! Deans friends cackled and echoed, Taylor, get out of the pool! as I turned a million shades of red and swam over to the waters edge. Hudson, though, wasnt through laughing. Hey, did anybody order Chinese food? He was clearly talking about my sister and her resemblance to the Buddha. But where Dean was willing to throw Kady and Amanda under the bus, I was willing to do no such thing. I whirled around on Hudson. Hey! Its only funny when I make fun of her. He put his hands up as if to say, who me? I grabbed my towel and followed Jesse down to Moms car. ** After the opulence of the club, my house and its myriad home improvement projects left me wanting. It was all grass is greener bullshit, but a thousand of these thoughts probably left you with something resembling a chip on the shoulder. I went straight to the bathroom, barricaded myself inside, and spent the next half hour tugging on myself. After I finished though, I felt worse than when Id started. Later, Jesse, Mom and I had dinner. Or rather, I had dinner. They had rice cakes and talked about the brand-new diet they were starting. I wanted to point out the unfairness of a child going on a diet, but Jesse did seem to enjoy the quality time with Mom. I wish people would just let her eat what she wants. Maybe then shed be happy. Janet must have noticed me staring at them though, because she asked, how was the club? It was fine, I answered after a while. We hung out with Deans friends. Any winners? I shook my head. Theyre idiots. Janet sighed. There you go with the negativity again. You were sure you were going to have a bad time, and guess what? You did. Im sure you spent all of ten minutes with them... She was right of course. Part of me hated them. Theyd never know what it was like to be poor. Always they had that safe and secure feeling in the back of their mind, that if anything went wrong, they had the money to solve it. But it wasnt just money, it was everything you didnt have; the knowledge that you could never have this. I was so far from having the life that I wanted, a life that I was both attracted and repulsed by. I wanted the far out, fantastic friends that Mom wrote about in her short stories. I excused myself, said I was going to bed early. But when I put my plate down in the sink, Mom just couldnt resist. Are you just going to leave that dish there? I let my head drop. I didnt want to trigger the wash one dish or many debate. The last time we had it, Mom ended up screaming, Goddamnit Taylor, I do everrrrrything! I decided to just wash the dish and leave it in the rack to dry. But when I turned to leave, Mom balked. Would it kill you to pitch in? You can do more than one plate. I begrudgingly dragged my feet back over to the sink and did the rest of the dishes. It took twenty-five minutes. Drying my hands, I headed up to my room. But at the base of the stairs, Mom called out, Taylor, wait... I thought she was going to apologize, but when I looked at her all she said was, Its trash night. I dragged the weeks garbage - two overflowing trash bags - down to the curb. And to punish them for hurting my back, I kicked them a few times for good measure. I stomped back into the house and all the way up to my room. Throwing myself down onto the bed, I thought about how pointless my life was, how insignificant. Just then, Mom called up the stairs, Taylor, phone! I picked up the Skittles receiver next to my bed and said, hello? A small voice said, Taylor, its Lauren. Oh, hey... From the pool today? I laughed. Yeah, I remember. I thought I heard heavy breathing coming through. Mom, you can hang up. Janet gasped and her end of the line went dead. Whats up? I asked Lauren, when I was sure Mom wasnt eavesdropping. Eh, nothing much just-- The small animals that lived in the wall were making a racket, drowning out Laurens next words. She cut off halfway through her sentence to ask, whats that noise? I leaned back against my pillow. The walls are thin. We have a birds nest in the roof and I think some squirrels have taken it over. Lauren laughed. Oh good, I was worried it would be something silly. Chapter Six -- May, 1999 (Boomtown Rats – “I Don’t Like Mondays”) Chapter Six --May, 1999 (contd) Boomtown Rats C I Dont Like Mondays My time at the country club had made me lazy. I had gotten a taste of the good life and did not want to go back to my crappy public school. On Monday, I feigned an illness that even Ferris Bueller would have been proud of having. It must have been convincing too because Mom volunteered to pick up some movies at the video store for me. She came back with all three Godfathers, a glaring hole in my movie knowledge, I know, but thats how I watched them for the first time, one after the other. My idea of treating myself has always been a movie marathon. All I had to do was pop in a VHS and I was off dreaming about a life that didnt so closely resemble mine. I set myself up on our mustard-colored couch in a cocoon of blankets and watched Al Pacino in his last subtle performance. I think my love affair with movies started with Uncle Nick and Aunt Sheilas big screen T.V. The adults would naturally just congregate around it. We were a Swayze household, Ghost and Dirty Dancing on repeat. Mom was a big Bruce Willis fan, so Die Hard was up there too. As a kid, I loved Indiana Jones and remember watching Raiders a lot, but also Last Crusade. Mom recognized my burgeoning interest and cultivated it. Whenever we went to the tape store, I would get two tapes while Mom always went off and came back with some obscure movie I wouldnt pick in a hundred years. Thats how I learned about older films. Mom had her favorites and would show me what to look for, but I quickly evolved my own tastes. I loved the fun of Amblin movies and the anarchy of a good slasher flick. I found movie trailers to be unsung pieces of art. Id argue with people over who the greatest film composer of all time was and hoped that my Oscars backstory would be as good as Ben and Matts. I felt, quite rightly, that the technical and art departments of Citizen Kane deserved their place in the history books, but the story just wasnt best movie of all-time quality. I mean, come on - his sled?! What psychological material did they pepper throughout the movie for his childhood sled to mean anything, let alone be the most important prop of the movie?! After The Godfather ended, I threw in part two. Mom popped in and out during the run, even surprised me by mentioning that she went out to L.A. once to try and be an actress around the time they were shooting it. I thought about going for a second sick day. As I finished up Godfather Three, I started coughing and complaining about this damn headache that wouldnt go away. However, Mom was a little tired of being at my beck and call all hours of the day. She hardly got any work done. If I was going to be sick tomorrow, Id be staying with Nannie. What about Uncle Nick? I asked. Mom shook her head. I dont know... Well, he doesnt work... Still, maybe he doesnt want to watch a sick fourteen-year-old. You and I both know thats nonsense! Reluctantly, Mom placed the call. After a couple rings, Sheila picked up and eagerly volunteered her husband on the spot. When I headed over bright and early the next day, Mom left me with the warning, Take it easy on Uncle Nick, he hasnt been feeling well lately. I said that I would. Nick and Sheilas house sat in the shade of a giant oak that took up most of the front yard. That meant that even in direct sunlight, it had an air of the ominous. The house was decorated with ornamental slate, a look which made it seem as if it was made entirely of stone. The overall effect was one of doom and gloom. It was right up my alley. Because Aunt Sheila had loads of money, Uncle Nick didnt have to work. From what I could tell, he just lounged around the house all day, watching the Home Shopping Network and Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous. We got into the forest green BMW with the slick leather interior that Sheila leased for Nick and drove into town. Halfway there, he put the top down and let the wind whip his trim mustache and long hair. For most of my life, he wore his hair in a mullet; not in a backwoods, white trash kind of way, but more so in a business in the front, party in the back kind of way. I noticed, not for the first time, that the guy was a bit of a clotheshorse. He believed in only the finest things in life. Today it was a dark, long-sleeved button down with loud designer pants belted at the waist. So, are you faking it or are you really sick? he asked. Promise not to tell? He laughed. Nuff said. I read your story, by the way. The one about the motel? She showed that to you?! I slapped the dash, pissed. Who hadnt Mom shown it to?! But Nick just waved me off. I liked it. You did? Sure, it was very Stephen King meets Kafka C you know Kafka? He wrote Metamorphosis, right? This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. Youve read it? I shook my head. Its a compliment. And speaking of vermin... We started talking about the Vanowens. Nick agreed that Lynn was a wet blanket and that Kevin was an ass, but when I brought up Uncle Bill, he became suddenly serious. He had a hair-trigger temper growing up. Once threw me out the screen door for not putting the top back on a jar of peanut butter right. I laughed. He what?! True story. Nick pulled into the parking lot of 7-11 and found a spot. Come on, he said. Anything you want. He plucked a credit card from his wallet and smiled. Its on Aunt Sheila. I laughed and followed him into the store. It was the same one he used to take me to after my karate lessons which made me nostalgic. I got my typical coke slurpee and Uncle Nick got more cigarettes. Luxury, I decided, was constantly buying things so you didnt have to think about your life -- something I fully supported. Afterwards, Nick took me by our old tape store in Summit, where I got a couple WWF tapes. When we got back to the house, I decided to watch Wrestlemania 9 which took place at Caesars Palace and is still the only Wrestlemania to be held outdoors. It was a good one with lots of twists and turns. During the main event, Bret the Hitman Hart lost the Championship belt to Yokozuna when the sumo cheated by throwing a blinding pod in his face. Hulk Hogan ran to his friends defense and the crowd started chanting for him to settle the score. The Hulkster ended up beating Yokozuna and getting the belt back for the good guys. As we watched though, Mom kept calling to check up on me. It was starting to get annoying. But I guess I couldnt blame her. It had been said by many a person that there wasnt a drug that Nick hadnt done. Or, as he put it so succinctly, the only problem I have with drugs is when I cant find any. I like to think that while I was watching wrestling, he was in the kitchen blowing lines. Or maybe he just did it behind me on the glass coffee table because, come on, no one has a glass coffee table to NOT do coke on... When Mom called for the third time, Nick managed to convince her that everything was fine. Then he hung up and said, lets go jump on the beds. I didnt need to be asked twice. We headed up to my old bedroom that Sheila had converted into a staid guest room. My bed now had frilly lace all around it. Gone was any sense that a child had once lived there. It was a mattress I would be proud to wreck. We spent the next fifteen minutes hopping up and down, ruining the sheets. Which. Was. Awesome. I had started to think that growing up meant being unhappy, but here Nick was proving to be the rare exception. I told him about hanging out with Deans friends and how they had made fun of my clothes. Fuck them! Nick blurted out. You want to pick some stuff out of my closet. Rub their face in it? I nodded. Nicks walk-in closet was wall-to-wall Pierre Cardin suits, collarless dress shirts and leather wing-tipped shoes. So, this was where Sheilas money was going. There was easily $25,000 worth of clothes here. I ran my hands reverently over the duds that were worth more than my life. I noticed Nick smiling at me. Ya got taste, kid. I watched him mull something over before finally saying, You want to see some of my paintings? I had only recently heard that Nick was a great artist growing up, so I was more than a little curious to see his early work. In the garage, he arranged three of his favorite pieces on a couple of dusty chairs then stood back anxiously as I kneeled down to look at them. Growing up, girls hung all over him, which explained the wild nudes. But he was also gifted at pointillism which he told me took hours and hours to finish even the smallest of images. My favorite though was a mixed media self-portrait he did in which his head was exploding, as if by a gunshot. But instead of blood, everything was coming out: musical notes, moments in history, cultural references. I looked at it for a while but didnt say what I was thinking. That I sometimes felt like that too... that life was too much. But I didnt want to put my foot in my mouth if I was wrong, if that wasnt what hed intended. Instead, I said that I thought he was talented. Thats the kiss of death in the arts. Youll need to know this if you keep writing. You dont want people to think youre talented. You want them to think youre professional. That you wont embarrass them to the public if they display your work... He stared regretfully at his paintings. Sometimes I think that its probably better to be relevant than talented. I watched as he became lost in thought. I wondered what had happened to him to make him think that way. I desired to be a great artist, but my life was so boring. I wanted tragedy and drama and real emotion, something I didnt second guess five minutes after. I was halfway through my second tape, Survivor Series 94, when Aunt Sheila came home from work, looking exhausted. She was in a power suit, her barrel-chested frame tapering off into little chicken legs that made her appear off-balance. Still, she was a really hard worker and nobodys fool. She even kicked Uncle Nick out for a period in the mid-eighties. He became a used car salesman for a month before begging her to take him back. She brightened when she saw me. She was like a second mother to me growing up, once getting us box seats to Ringling Brothers. Unfortunately, she never got that kid she wanted. She asked Nick why dinner wasnt ready. Apparently, even Uncle Nick had chores. He moved to get up, but she waved him off. When Mom came by to pick me up, Sheila tried to get us to stay for dinner, but Janet said wed already taken up enough of their time. On our way out, Mom saw a packet of adoption papers on the coffee table that I had somehow missed. She asked Nick about them. He just shrugged and said, Eh, she wants it... Nick rose to show us to the door. As Mom headed straight for the car though, I hung back. Maybe tomorrow, I can still pretend to be sick? I asked hopefully. Nick smiled a sad sort of smile. Yeah, maybe It didnt strike me until later that he might not have liked wrestling at all. When we were in the Volvo, I asked Mom about a memory that had been bothering me all day. It was one from when I was very young. There was a wall full of windows, letting in the afternoon light, and Nick was there in a wicker chair, his back to us. Mom had gotten me a desert camouflage G.I. Joe fighter jet just for the occasion... Was that rehab? I asked her. Janet was quiet for a moment. You know, some people remember nice things. Was it? She nodded after a while and we descended into an uncomfortable silence. I figured it was up to me to break it. Well, I think he cracked the code because he is living the life now! All he does is nothing but watch T.V. all day! Mom looked at me, seriously. Is that how you want to live your life? I said, maybe... Then, I thought about it a little. No, I guess not. Janet smiled. Sometimes I love you more than I can stand. She forced a hug on me and said the thing she had told me a million times before: If they lined up all the little boys... I would always cut her off before she could finish it. The whole thing went, If they lined up all the little boys in the world, Id still pick you. I spent most of my childhood trying to refute it, asking her what would happen if she didnt know me before she had to make the choice? But she would just smile and say, Id still know. Chapter Seven -- October, 1968 (Iron Butterfly – “In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida”) Chapter Seven --October, 1968 Iron Butterfly C In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida Around the time the nights got longer and the neighborhood kids went out trick-or-treating, Bill Benson sat on the basement stairs being anti-social. He was dressed as the Lone Ranger because with the mask on, no one could tell that he was staring at Simone. She stood across the room dressed as Barbara Eden, stoned out of her mind, smoking with Cody. Bill could hear only snatches of their conversation. They talked about how, as an aspiring model, Simone had been going to photo shoots in the city. Apparently, Cody said something funny because Bill could see her exposed stomach clenching with every laugh. Stop it! Janet hollered in Bills face as she plopped down beside him. Her face was painted green like the Wicked Witch. Stop what? Bill said, annoyed more than anything. That thing you do - that people watching thing! It''s creepy! I wasnt looking at anyone... Janet followed his line of sight, right past Simone to Amy ODell. Yes, you were. You were looking at your girlfriend and I think its sweet! Sensing she was being talked about, Amy looked up from tuning her acoustic guitar and eagerly waved at Bill. I wasnt looking at her! Bill blurted out. Afraid that Amy had heard, Janet lowered her voice to hiss at her brother. What is your problem?! But Bill was incredulous. I dont have a problem. I just see her falling in love with me... and I feel... He tried to come up with the words but couldnt. What? Well... nothing. How long have you felt like this? The whole time. Youve got to tell her! No, I dont. Janet moved to get up. Then, Ill tell her-- Like hell you will-- Bill pulled his sister back down onto the stairs. This isnt right, Bill! Yeah? Who asked you? Maggie stood nearby, dancing sensuously to the Hendrix record that was playing. She was dressed skimpily in a tube top, a pair of hot pants and a choker necklace. You know, Bill, if youre done with Amy, I happen to be free... Youre always free, Maggie. Maggie scoffed. Janet was quick to stand up for her. Bill! What the hell! Im just saying youre only supposed to date one person at a time. Are you calling me a whore? Maggie cocked a hand on her hip, waiting for an answer. I mean, look at what youre wearing-- Before Bill could finish speaking, Maggie was beating him about the face and chest. Over on the couch, Cody rolled a series of new joints, but kept losing weed in the shag carpeting. It would land down near his moccasins, forcing him to lean over and pinch it out of the carpet fibers. As he came up with nearly a dimebags worth, the Mod Squad went to commercial and a drive-in trailer for a movie called Night of the Living Dead came on. John Birch, who had taken great pains to resemble Abbie Hoffman, leaned over to get Codys attention, pointing. You know what this movies really about, right? Its not about zombies? Cody had a roach clip necklace that kept going out whenever hed get lost in thought. No man, its a metaphor! For what black people go through in this country. Jesus Christ... Look what they do to anyone who resists! Anyone who takes on the establishment-- Yeah, like the Mod Squad! Im serious! If they can kill preachers and senators and get away with it then who wont they kill?! Bill held Maggie at bay long enough to interject, J.B, they caught both those shooters! Yeah, and if you believe that then I got a bridge to sell you... Cody decided to have some fun. If I could vote Id probably vote for Nixon-- J.B. stared at him, mouth agape. What?! Why?! Hes anti-war! How do you know that?! He wont debate! Because hes too good at it. It would be unfair. I honestly cannot tell if youre fucking with me. I would never... Bill managed to duck Maggie once again. He lost in 60 and hes up against the V.P. Hes not going anywhere J.B, calm down-- Im not the one who needs to calm down, its this asshole! Cody took the biggest of hits and held it in, wincing. Why am I an asshole?! Because you fried your last brain cell! The fact that you are a few short years from voting should scare the rest of America! Cody laughed and picked a speck of green from his tongue. Furious that he couldnt get a rise out of Cody, J.B. continued, I mean, I know your father didnt teach you better-- Codys head shot up and the room got quiet. Before anything could happen though, Matt got between them and led J.B. away. Come on, dont say that. You know what his home life is like... J.B. sighed and reluctantly nodded. When he was sated, Matt took his spot back on the couch where Janet gazed adoringly at her boyfriend. Youre so damn sweet, just when I think you cant get any sweeter! She showered Matt with kisses until he turned to make out with her. They went at it for a few moments before Janet broke it off, suddenly-- Ugh, thats disgusting!!! Everyone followed her gaze to see Bludgeon shitting on the basement carpet, his elderly, hind legs spasming from the strain. Oh, Jesus! Bill yelled up the basement stairs. Ma, Bludgeons B.M-ing all over the basement! The sound of Sandra walking across the kitchen floor above them filled their ears as she called down the stairs. Then clean it up C you know where the borax and sponge are! The older the dog got the more contempt she seemed to have for it. Bill dropped his face in his hands at the prospect of such grunt work. Mom, can''t you do it? Ive got people over... You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. He is your dog William Randall! I am not picking up after him! And with that, she slammed the basement door. Aware of the eyes on him, Bill crossed to the spillover sink next to the washing machine and loudly fished out a bucket and a roll of dust-covered paper towels. He wore a grim frown as he attended to the stain. To add insult to injury, the person nearest to him was Simone. She peered down at him as he cleaned up the dog shit, a look of disgust upon her face. Bill let it wash over him. As he slowly made progress, Glen Tonche came in from the garage door, a balled-up lunch bag in his hand. I got it! The guy tried to fuckin stiff me too, but I got it! Matt clapped his hands together. Man of the hour! The others moved down as Glen pushed his way onto the couch. He pulled a beat-up tin of Altoids out of the bag and popped the top off. Bill looked over to see ten or so dusky-looking Cheshire Cat stamps. Murmurs of score! fuckin-a! and bitchin! circled the room. Even J.B. forgot he was angry for a moment, saying, Does anyone else love Glen right now? Maggie inched closer to the Falcon on the couch. Im startin to warm up to him. As everyone crowded around, Bill returned the soap bucket to the sink and noisily washed his hands, making a chore of it. Amy finally had to walk over and lead him back to the group. Come on... she said, pulling him towards Glen. Bill reluctantly took a seat next to him and waited as the guy lifted a square to his mouth. At the last second though, Bill grabbed his wrist. What do I do? You fuckin eat it. You dont do anything. It takes care of the rest. Bill nodded and let go. Cody just continued to hold his arm out. Im not feeding you, you can take it. He dropped the tab in Bills hand. After a moment of hesitation, Bill swallowed it and washed it down with his beer. He leaned back next to Amy to wait. When does it start? Soon. Yeah man, just relax. John Birch said, laughing. I knew this one kid - no kidding - he got so high he thought himself to death. Matt shook his head, smiling. Such a liar! Im tellin the truth! He was havin a bad trip and he just had a bad fuckin brain anyway, man. I also knew this other kid who chewed off his own lips because he thought they were getting in the way of his breathing! Janet playfully kicked at his leg. Shut up! Youre gonna scare people! A few seats down, Bill sat frozen on the couch, a look of fear on his face as stark as night. Maggie took pity on the kid. Ignore him, Bill. Ive taken it before and theres nothing to be worried about. It was quiet in the room until she suddenly screeched with delight. Ive got a great idea! Lets go to the fair! she cried. Oh, my lord! Yes! The carnival would be amazing on acid! Bill sucked in a deep breath as everyone went for their coats. After a coin flip, it was decided that J.B. would drive everyone. They piled into his Lincoln with the couch seats, the one with the Ive gone to pot bumper sticker on it. Amy and Bill were the last two to climb in and Bill found himself pushed next to Simone. He tried to breathe normally, but as J.B. pulled out of the driveway, Bill held onto the back seat for dear life, a horrible stomach drop feeling taking over his thoughts. While everyone else was having a gay old time, Bill couldnt stop focusing on the bad. It was made worse time and time again by Amy, who kept trying to take his hand. He was running out of ways to pull it free... He snuck a glance at Simone. She and Cody had their heads leaned back, looking out the window, as he pointed out the different constellations. With her gaze diverted, Bill let his eyes dance over her body. Her Jeannie get-up was almost too much to bear. He was elbow-to-elbow with her gossamer sleeves, her hand just inches away. Slowly, he extended his pinky out to touch hers. He was breathless. Just as they were about to touch, Amy took his other hand in hers, asking you feelin okay? Bill nodded, silently. By the time they arrived at Memorial Field, he was falling apart. The crowds didnt help. Despite being Halloween night, there were hundreds of people milling about the ten-acre park. Once they were on line for the Tilt-a-whirl, Amy rested her head on Bills shoulder. When he didnt reciprocate though, she looked up and noticed his thousand-yard stare. You alright? she asked. Youve been kinda quiet... He tried to sound the words out. Im... Im scar" But the Carnival barker was already waving them forward with a booming, Next in line?! Amy hopped forward smiling, arm-in-arm with Bill. Thats us! She handed the carnie their tickets and pulled Bill up after her onto the hot neon pulsating ride. They quickly found seats, but as the metal bar came down on their car, Bills eyes rolled back into his head. Amy was so determined to have fun she hardly even noticed. There was the groan of unoiled machinery as the ride started and the lights and the music both kicked in. Everyone else seemed to be having a ball, peaking at just the right time. But as the track whipped them about, Bill couldnt hold it in any longer. He gripped the sides of his car and vomited. With the velocity of the ride, though, and the torque with which they were currently turning, the vomit had nowhere to go -- but back up into his face. When the spinning mercifully ended a few minutes later, Bill came down off it wobbly, his hair wet and his t-shirt moist. Amy rubbed his back with nothing but concern in her eyes. Cody was the first to catch sight of Bill. What happened to you?! Amy explained, Billy got sick. Gross. Shut up, Cody! Bill tried to mumble, I think it was something I ate Yeah man, acid! Were gonna go on the coaster. Are you coming? Bill caught sight of his sister. I need to go home, he said. He realized that the Carnival was a lot like life. It was supposed to be fun, but wasnt. Janet considered what he had said, then watched as Glen Tonche started talking to her boyfriend. She turned back to Bill, quickly. Well, J.B. drove and no one else has a car, so youre gonna have to wait. Just go sit down while we go on a couple more rides. Then well leave. No, I need to leave now... Im sorry, Bill. But you cant rain on our parade. She ran after her friends, leaving Bill and Amy alone. Amy led her boyfriend to the nearby Fun House and sat him on a bench just outside of it. Im gonna catch up with the others. Will you be okay? Bill didnt respond. Here are a couple tickets if you wanna go on any rides. She held out a string of tickets, but Bill didnt move to take them, so she just draped them around his neck. Giving him a kiss on the forehead, she patted his back one last time and headed off. Once she was gone though, Bill realized he was truly alone. He looked around, frightened. The carnival lights bled into the night air as repetitive accordion music droned on and on. His eyes were dilated, only brief glimpses of the real world getting through. His imagination kept setting images rippling into horrible falsities. Getting up, he stumbled along the festival grounds, soon finding himself at the garishly lit Hall of Mirrors. A tall Clown stood by the entrance taking tickets. Bill stepped forward, warily. Jesus Christ, what happened to you? the Clown asked. I need a ride Bill said, his eyelids fluttering. The Clown looked him up and down. Its five tickets to enter. The words echoed terribly. What? I said, All your friends are going to laugh at you. The Clown took a live rat out of his pocket and started to eat it. Bill gritted his teeth and started to shake. The Clown, in turn, snapped five tickets off of Bills neck and waved him through. As Bill tripped his way inside, he noticed a tinny version of Camptown Races playing over the broken loudspeaker. He ran through the corridors, fleeing from his own reflection. He hated the way he looked. Every time he saw movement out of the corner of his eye, he ran faster. He followed the twists and turns until finally he cornered himself and couldnt go any further. Turning around, he saw his image. His visage -- that was what they called it. It was horrible... He punched it. Glass shattered and splintered his hand. He turned back around and there he still was. He punched with his other hand. When he saw the damage it caused, he screamed. I cant remember how to breathe! Out on the fairgrounds, his friends were climbing down from their coaster ride when they heard Bill screaming. A moment later, he came tearing out of the Hall of Mirrors covered in blood, yelling at the top of his lungs. Somebody kill me!!! ** The next day, Bill sat on his living room couch, hands bandaged. He was deeply pale with a blanket draped across his lap. His mother sat next to him, rubbing his head. There, there... she kept saying over and over again. Bill sputtered. Im such a fuck-up... But Sandra wouldnt hear it. Hey now, none of that talk! You are special. You are different from everyone else and you will never be the same. Her words seemed to have the opposite of their desired effect on Bill. There was a knock at the door. As Sandra got up to see who it was, Lynn approached her older brother, cautiously. Mom said you did drugs. Thats why youre like this? Bill nodded. Yep. But only bad people do drugs. He nodded again. Yep Before Sandra could reach the door, Amy poked her head inside. Hi. Can I come in? Of course, Amy dear. Sandra helped her out of her coat and the two of them shared a quiet word together. Hows he doing? Amy asked. Hes good, I think. A little shook up... Can I talk to him? I dont think thats a good idea" But Bill cut her off. --Its fine, Mom. Sandra was about to object, but instead just wrung her hands. Ill be in the kitchen if you need anything. She said, before leaving the room. Amy took her place on the couch as Bill sat up, weakly. I was worried about you. Why? he asked. Amy laughed, unsure of the question. Why was I worried? No. Why are you here? Amy shrugged. Youre my boyfriend. I was worried about you. Exactly. What kind of girl are you that you''d stay with me after something like this? Amy stared at him as if she couldnt understand the words that were coming out of his mouth. What? Just go, he said. Were done. Amy shook her head in disbelief, but Bill wasnt having it. Come on now, dont make a scene... But her eyes had already started to mist up. Are those tears? he asked. Amy ran her hands quickly over her face. Dont worry. Theyll stop soon. Youre not worth it-- Did I make you cry? What do you think?! Why would you cry over me?! But Amy couldnt hear him anymore. She ran off, bawling. On her way out the door, she passed Janet coming in from outside. Hey, Ames" But Amy blew right past her. Janet turned back to Bill. What did you do?! But he just kept staring at the front door. I cant believe it... What happened?! We broke up. Whyd you do a stupid thing like that?! Bill turned to face his sister, his face suddenly hard. None of this would have happened if you just drove me home! Janet gaped at him. Oh, so its my fault?! Yes! Bill screamed. Chapter Eight -- June, 1999 (Nirvana – “The Man Who Sold the World”) Chapter Eight --June, 1999 Nirvana C The Man Who Sold the World Just as school was ending for the summer, the senior trifecta of shafting me (Lynn, Kevin, and Janet) got together and decided that I was to get a summer job. Thus, I found myself being led by Lynn into the Hillcrest dining room. It was a decadent kind of place; velvet curtains pulled back from picture windows, the sun lighting up the mahogany details. I looked around as Lynn introduced me to Mr. Mayer, a tidy man in a burgundy suit with slicked back hair. He was Hillcrests General manager, the hirer and firer of the wait staff. I wanted to point out that I had no resume, let alone any previous employment to speak of, but something told me to keep quiet. Mr. Mayer and his spray tan looked me over, dismally. I guess I could find a place for him in the canteen for now... It turned out that my Aunt putting a word in actually meant something. Little did I know that the wealthy have a habit of helping each other out. Mr. Mayer, or Joseph, as he told me never to call him, then showed me the salmon-colored serving jacket I was expected to wear at all times on the job. Is this optional? I asked, hopefully. Mr. Mayer shared a dry laugh with Lynn. You were right C he is funny. My new boss then introduced me to the canteen wait staff, three Mexicans who appeared to be the angriest people I had seen in my entire life. Mr. Mayer clapped me on the back in a bad opening salvo. Hermanos, this is Taylor Benson C hes going to be joining you for the next couple weeks. I could feel that being Mayers lacky lost me any cool points I might have brought into this. One of the Mexicans spit on the ground right in front of me. Hey Mister Marrer, you say that when a position open up, my cousin could come in and take it... Mr. Mayer thought for a minute, then laughed, remembering. I did say that, didnt I?! Well, next time! Promise! And with that, he left me with them. The three amigos gave me death stares, but gradually taught me how to fry shrimp, mozzarella sticks, and french fries. All without speaking. Or, at least, speaking English. They spoke Spanish throughout. I cant be sure, but I think they even gave me a nickname: puta-something. By the end of my first shift, I was bone tired and kicking myself that I didnt ask when payday was. But I was glad to be employed. Whereas I had to beg Mom for enough money to go out to lunch, Deans friends seemed to have unlimited funds. I kept up as best I could, but usually came up short. I went looking for Dean. He was supposed to be finishing up a doubles match against Hudson and his dad. When I reached the courts, they were deep in play, so I found a seat and watched. It wasnt long before Layla and her friends came around. The last time I had seen her, I was making everybody laugh by running around and tickling old people. Before she left, she gave me a great big hug. So clearly, we were on hugging terms. As she approached, I got up and said, hey buddy, then went in for a hug. Immediately she froze up in my arms, saying whoooaaa... Before I could explain myself, Stephanie asked me if I had ever heard of personal space? They laughed awkwardly as I stalked away. I was furious. The moment I was out of view, I shook with rage. On the sandstone path that connected the tennis courts to the pool, I stomped the ground and punched the banana leaf palms that lined the trail. I wish I knew why people didnt like being around me. Was it my high nasally voice and bossy tone? The weird nose flicking thing I did? The horseshoe indent I had from grinding my teeth? You look fine! my mother would say. Was she blind?! All I ever wanted in life was to be grown up, but every time my voice cracked, I was reminded that I was just a kid. And it made me so mad... I wasnt meant to have nice things. I had too many rough edges. Belonging here meant hiding part of yourself. You had to become someone else. You had to make safe, round edges out of the sharp ones, and like glass in the ocean, eventually anyone would change. As much as I wanted to identify with Uncle Nick, I was beginning to think that I had far more in common with Uncle Bill. He was just as alienated around his friends as I was. Neither of us was suited to living indoors. Every suspicious glance people gave us sent us deeper into the jungle. We were wild animals who might never truly belong. But maybe trying was what humanized us, what linked us to other people. Reluctantly, I returned to the tennis courts, making sure to avoid the others. I watched as Dean slammed an overhand shot, acing Hudsons dad. He and Kevin celebrated, but they werent the only ones... From the stands, Layla whooped it up. Yeah, Dean! she called out through cupped hands. When he saw who said it, he went bright red. I guess Hudson was a little jealous because when Dean refused his challenge of a rematch, we all made our way to the pool where Dean, Hudson, and Avi spent the better part of an hour in a brutal water polo competition, trying to get Laylas attention. Just watching them fight over her made me exhausted. After swimming a little, I got out and dried off next to Aunt Lynn. She was laughing politely with a man I had never seen before. He was smoking a cigar and was quite fat, the blonde stubble that used to be cute in youth now only accentuated his jowls. Taylor, this is Mr. Tonche, can you say hi? before I could respond, she motioned to me. This is Janets son. Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. Glen Tonche turned, his entire demeanor changed. No way, far out! Janets got a kid! I stared at the guy as he shook my hand. The Falcon! I said, under my breath. Whats that? He leaned forward, not quite hearing me. Nothing. Well, whattaya know... some of the people in my mothers stories made it out of there after all. But Glen Tonche didnt look at all the way I had pictured. He was bloated and had an open Hawaiian shirt on, expensive basketweave loafers and madras pants. The Falcon sighed, remembering the old times. Your mother was really something. We were all in love with her. I nodded, not knowing what he wanted me to say to that. So... how old are you now, Taylor? Lynn answered for me. Fourteen. Tonche was emoting enough for the both of us. Fourteen?! Well, thats a great age! I have since learned that what adults mean by this statement is not that their fourteenth year was anything special only that theyve made a lot of mistakes in life and wish they could start again knowing what they know now and what the hell, why not start at fourteen?! When Dean and his friends were finally exhausted, they dragged themselves from the pool. Layla wrapped a wet arm around her father. Daddy? Whats our account number? I want to get some mozzarella sticks... 0-4-2-9, darling. She was about to head for the canteen, but Glen held her back and pointed at me with his limoncello. Me and this boys mom used to go together! Layla seemed just as disgusted as I was. Great... she mumbled, looking at me like I was something shed accidentally stepped in. I felt like telling her father the truth, that his daughter was the kind of girl who could forget that she was huggers with someone after one day! She headed for the snack bar and Glen watched her go. He grabbed Dean and Avi playfully, mob-boss style, by the back of their necks and pulled them down to him. Want to talk to you fellas C you see that girl over there? Thats my daughter. Now, Im not blind. I see guys sniffin around her. I know what you want! He gave them half-hearted noogies as I locked eyes with Lynn. She had the same appalled look on her face that I did. In that moment, I felt a surge of affection for my Aunt. But seriously, I know you guys are good kids. Youll watch after her, right? They nodded dumbly under his fleshly paws until he let them free. Now, such talk of his daughters honor should have been enough to send any of them running. But Glen Tonche went to Wharton, mostly on his fathers good name, and now spent his days asset stripping, not building anything just tearing it apart. He was rumored to be the richest person at the club, a billionaire or close to it, and Avi and Hudson wanted to know the secret to his success. They were always talking about their ivy league futures, so this was on brand for them. Instead of market tips though, he just bloviated about his philanthropy towards the less-fortunate. Rich people are always giving to charities because they cant imagine anything worse than being poor. When Aurelio, one of the canteen waiters I had met earlier, brought Laylas order over, Mr. Tonche over-tipped, making a point to tell the boys, thats more money than hell see in a week. We must remember the power we have to change peoples lives... I wondered how one person could become so delusional. Maybe you lost your mind just a little bit when you became rich. I knew from personal experience that it got worse when it was taken away. I had had about all I could stand when the patio gate opened and Mom entered to pick me up. Upon seeing her, Glen Tonche dropped the food on his plate and made a big show of getting to his feet to greet Janet. She smiled at the attention and let Glen dance her around the patio for a few steps. Was this... how old people flirted? He paused to whisper something illicit in her ear and she wacked him gently on the arm, calling him a silver-tongued devil. If there werent people around, I would have vomited on the spot. He was a walking reminder that this kind of behavior got rewarded all the time. And that my mother was still susceptible to this world. I watched in horror as Glen Tonche reached down and patted her ass. ** It took me dragging Mom out of there to get her to leave. As we pulled out of Hillcrests front gate however, I couldnt keep my mouth shut any longer. I cannot believe you dated that man C hes such a cheeseball! Well, that cheeseball is worth $1.2 billion. Too bad you cant buy class, I mumbled. Mom opened her mouth to respond but thought better of it. Instead, she just focused on her breathing. Every time she was stressed, she had a habit of regressing into her Lamaze exercises. When she was finally calm enough to speak again, she explained, Taylor, in this life youll often find that the ones that work so hard at it find it hard to come by, but the ones who take it for granted get it handed to them. Well, that shut me right up. When we arrived home, Mom made another one of her healthy dinners. Jesse stared crestfallen at the boiled chicken and asparagus. I knew how she felt. As she often did after such a rich dinner, Mom fell asleep on the couch sitting straight up. A bowl of sugar-free sorbet was balanced atop her belly, rising and falling with her snoring. Looking at her now, I wondered what she wanted to be when she grew up. Was her dream always to be an actress? Because it couldnt have been this. I remember her saying once that she started a painting company with two of her closest friends. Was that it? Or was that just one of a hundred dreams? She must have sensed that I was staring because she opened one of her eyes. Why werent you talking to the other kids? What? She often asked questions that came out of the blue. On the patio. Why werent you talking to Deans friends? I shrugged. I dont know... we just dont have anything in common... How could I tell her that I felt eternally out of place? That I didnt fit in with kids my own age but was too young to hang out with anyone older. Janet groaned. Why, because they dont watch thirteen hours of television a day? Im serious, Taylor. Im worried about you. Ill be fine. You romanticize being depressed! Youre dead set on not enjoying yourself! Why am I expected to get along with them? Why arent they expected to get along with me, huh? Because there are more of them! Why do you always see the worst in people?! So Im never surprised when they do the terrible things that they do! I didnt even know I felt that way, but I must have meant it because I screamed it. Mom stood up, collecting her ice cream bowl. You know Taylor, life has a funny way of giving you what you ask for. So, if you keep thinking only bad things are coming to you, then they probably will. She headed into the kitchen. I wanted to tell her she was wrong, that I wasnt happy being unhappy. But there was a small part of me that thought she might be right. I decided to call it a night. On my way upstairs though, I saw Jesse sitting by herself, ignored by both Mom and me. She seemed so alone. It reminded me that I had a leftover candy bar from my shift at the canteen. I fished it out of my hoodie and handed it to her. She took it, gratefully. I turned to go only to find her hugging me from behind like a backpack. It made me smile. Chapter Nine -- December, 1968 (Van Morrison – “The Way Young Lovers Do”) Chapter Nine --December, 1968 Van Morrison C The Way Young Lovers Do One afternoon after Christmas shopping, the Bensons Cadillac came up the stone drive and the family piled out, bustling into the house with groceries. Bill slowly made his way out of the car. He took his time, holding his hands out defensively in front of him. Inside the kitchen, Sandra opened the liquor cabinet to restock it, remarking to William, We must have gone through nearly three bottles of rye since the last party we had, but for the life of me I cant remember any of us drinking it... William shrugged and headed back out to grab the last grocery bag. On his way inside, he passed Bill who was moving at a glacial pace. Closing the door behind him, William accidentally locked his oldest out. Bill knocked, but by then the family was in another room. He saw them down the hall around the Christmas Tree, too far away to hear his delicate pounding. He tried again, but they were all smiling, unaware that anyone was missing. Bill knew in his heart that they only had time for happy people anyway. Bill hurried across the backyard, past Bludgeons doghouse, towards the tool shed. Like Bludgeon, he was to be kept outdoors, an untamed beast not suitable for the house. Inside the shed, he paced back and forth, upset and breathing heavily. When he calmed some, he reached behind a cabinet and came out with a dusty, cobwebbed bottle, spoils of one of his parents parties. He looked around to make sure he was clear, then downed it fast. ** That night, shoes in hand, Janet closed her bedroom door and crept down the upstairs hallway to a nearby window. She knew every creaking floorboard in the house, knew the ones to avoid if she didn''t want to be heard. With a deep breath, she eased the window open and slid out onto the roof. Downstairs, her father was watching Star Trek in the den by himself, the sound, as usual, at a deafening level. He was sitting in his Eames lounge chair, his hand with a lit cigarette in it, hovering over a sterling silver side table ashtray. On screen, the Captain had a black woman in his arms. He looked like he was being forced to kiss her. When William realized what was happening, he grimaced. Behind him, Bill staggered in from the kitchen, still drunk from the afternoon. He took a minute to get himself together, then coughed to be heard. Dad? he asked. William didnt hear him, so Bill tried again. Dad, I wanted to talk to you... By the side window, Janet dangled from the gutters. She hung there for a moment before dropping. Getting to her feet, she wiped dirt from the back of her pants then looked around to see if she was spotted. Through the den window, she spied Bill trying uselessly to get their fathers attention. She shook her head and ran to an idling Camaro around the block. It took off into the night. Bill tried to make himself heard over his fathers television. I wish I was a better son, he finally eked out. William craned to get a look at his firstborn. What is this nonsense? Bill seemed to be swaying on the spot. His father smelled the air between them. Have you been drinking? Bill tried to answer but stumbled his next couple words. William waved him off. Well talk about this later. Go to bed. We wont be telling your mother about this. Sandra had taken a pill and gone to bed early. Bill nodded, accepting his fate. He turned to leave and only then seemed to find something to say. At least I go to bed when Im told William watched his son go, thinking about what Bill had said. Getting up, he headed into the kitchen, leaning into the fridge as Lynn, in a floral pair of footie-pajamas, came down the stairs. Daddy, wheres Janet? She smelled like Jean Nate after bath splash. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. What, sweetie? I wanted to sleep in Janets bed, but shes not there. Of course, shes in her bed - where else would she be? ** Across town, Glen Tonche showed Janet his parents house. It was a brown and crme Tudor revival with an expansive lawn and fountain out front. It was well-appointed, but cavernous. This is it... he said, his voice echoing off the walls. He led her into the white carpeted living room where there was a Steinway in the corner for entertaining. I like it. Janet smiled. Glen wore a buckskin vest with fringe and Cuban heels. He took a cocky step towards her. I like you. Janet grinned. She kneeled on the couch to get closer to him. They kissed with tongue and when it was over, Janet appeared so overjoyed she had to catch her breath. Youre sweet, little girl. Janet frowned, mock hurt. Little girl? Come here... She pulled him down to her and gave him a hickey on his neck. There, she said. You''re mine now. You carry my mark. Whats your quarterback gonna think of this? Hes a mid-fielder. He plays lacrosse. And hes not gonna know about this. Glen nodded, placating her. Yeah, sure Janet picked his head up off her chest. Hey, do you hear me? Never. Okay? Glen thought about it for just over a second. Whatever you say, doll ** Tiptoeing through the back door hours later, Janet was almost up the stairs when her father spoke. Before you go to sleep... he said, turning on the lights to see her better. Maybe you could tell your father where youve been? Janet remained frozen. The, uh... nun convention? He rose slowly from the chair hed been sitting in, smoking cigarettes. Oh, youll wish you were a nun when this is over. Dad, I can explain-- Oh, Im sure you could! Not even a call, Janet? Your brother would have called-- My brother has no life! And yet, hes not the one in trouble! As her father started screaming about how much of a disappointment she was, Janet noticed the oddest thing. Some ways behind William, there stood her older brother. He was dancing, drunkenly celebrating her grounding. Janet would have laughed, if it wasnt so devastating... Why would you tell him, Billy? she asked over her fathers tirade. Bill stopped dancing for just long enough. He was gonna find out sooner or later! When her father finally stopped yelling and her punishment had been handed down, Janet was banished to her bedroom. As the door closed behind her, she threw herself down onto her bed. What had started as such a promising night had ended in betrayal. She was just about to go to bed when there came a familiar knock at her window. She started briefly, only to discover it was Matt Learner. He had climbed up the rose trellis to her bedroom. Janet slid the window open. What do you want, Mattie C I just got in trouble. Matt smiled adoringly at her. She could tell he was drunk, but in a charming way. Not depressed like her brother. Isnt this romantic? he said, his eyes bleary. I keep thinking of Bookends by Simon & Garfunkel. When Janet laughed, Matt took it as a good sign. I just wanted to tell you Im going to be a big deal someday. Oh, yeah? Janet leaned in her window frame and let him talk. You know that house on Hobart Ave? Im gonna buy that for you... She smiled until she noticed movement behind him on the front lawn. Matt watched the pall that overcame her face as her eyes darted past him. Whats wrong? You seem distracted It was her father going out to smoke a cigarette. She shooed Matt away and slammed her window shut. Matt sat crouched on the tiny ledge, unsure of what to do, until a tiny voice whispered, over here! Matt turned to see Janets sister, Lynn, two windows down, waving him over. It seemed weird, but he was out of options. He hurried across the roof and ducked into her bedroom. Once he was safely inside, Lynn closed the window and shut her blinds, adding if hes having his outdoor cigarette then hes going to bed soon. You can sneak out then. Thanks, Lynn. No problem. Just, next time, tell me in advance so we can plan it better. Matt laughed. What a funny kid... He looked about her pink room. It was perhaps the neatest room Matt had ever seen. There was an entire wall of stuffed animals arranged by size. Raggedy Ann & Andy figured prominently. Opposite them, Lynn had a crafting desk with an orange dymo label maker that she labeled all her possessions with, a Sears catalogue Christmas wish book, and a shelf full of Nancy Drew mysteries. Matts eyes landed on a trunk that was half in and half out of her closet. Whats that, he asked. Lynn was only too happy to answer. She flicked her desk lamp on and cleared a couple skirts he recognized as belonging to Janet, off the top of it. Its my hope chest. It has everything for when I get married and have a house. She showed him her picture book with cut out photos from bridal magazines. Did you see the Presidents daughter got married? I want a big wedding like that... Matt nodded, marveling at the detail of it all. Youve really put a lot of thought into this... He flipped through the pages, kind of impressed. Lynn watched him, intently. His interest wasnt faked. He wasnt just being nice. Which made her want to tell him the truth... You know... she was out tonight. Matt nodded, his face betraying nothing. Does she do that a lot? Lynn shook her head, adamantly, and Matt seemed to calm. Thanks for telling me that, Lynn. None of my other friends did. Chapter Ten -- July 4th, 1999 (Styx – “Fooling Yourself (The Angry Young Man)”) Chapter Ten -- July 4th, 1999 Styx C Fooling Yourself (The Angry Young Man) It was the weekend of the Fourth of July wiener roast and the groundskeepers had been setting up barbeque pits all morning long. Unfortunately, I was on the schedule to work. I watched from the canteen as the one percent shoved hot dogs down their throats. Look at these rich assholes, I said. The Mexicans laughed. They had only just started talking to me after several weeks of silence. You act like you arent one of them. Hair gel Gomez said as his buddies snickered amongst themselves. Im not - Im fucking poor! By now the Mexicans couldnt stop laughing. Dont your family go here or something? Yeah, but I-- They cut me off. Youre white and you wear polos C its the same thing. Before I could argue, Aurelio joined the pile on. Why do you want to be a filmmaker, anyway? No one cares what you have to say! You dont know! I could be the future of Hollywood! Youre not the future of Hollywood. Oh, yeah? Then who is? Latinos! Were takin over! I tried to get a word in edgewise but they wouldnt listen to reason. I returned to making as many toast points as I could. Why they were called toast points I had no idea. To me they looked like toast cut diagonally -- but hey, what did I know? I looked up at the canteen window just in time to see Lauren arrive. Even after the Layla hugging incident, she continued to be nice to me. My sister remembers Lauren as that girl who called our house all the time. And it was true, we had been seeing a lot of each other the past couple weeks. There was a Thai restaurant Dean and his friends used to eat at called Waterlilies, where they had a massive fish tank. Lauren and I liked to re-enact the scene from Baz Luhrmanns Romeo and Juliet where they discover each other at a party through said tank. It was hilarious to reach longingly for the other person through the glass. Lauren had been a constant presence at the canteen, always chatting me up while I was working. When do you get off? she asked. Never. Slavery is forever. Youre off now. Silverio said. I looked up at the clock and damn it if he wasnt right. As I untied my apron, Silverio added, Now you can spend the afternoon with your girlfriend! I turned a million shades of red as they heckled me in Spanish. Shes not my girlfriend! I mumble-hissed. They took turns looking Lauren over in her jean shorts and baggy t-shirt, her hair up in a messy bun. Then can I date her, goddamn... I was genuinely confused. Youre talking about Lauren? If thats Lauren then yeah, fool! They started catcalling and whistling, which Lauren really seemed to appreciate. Her?! I asked Silverio once more. But he was too busy trying to get Laurens phone number. I shook my head and headed out to the patio to join her. The guys didnt stop making kissing noises until we were out of sight. Just ignore them, she said. Ten years from now theyre still gonna be working here and youll be off in Hollywood, being a big deal. Come to think of it, I should probably get your autograph now... She said it like she was joking, but I could tell she wasnt. I found myself blushing. At a loss for words, I took a long sip off the soda I had taken from the canteen. Is that another Diet Coke?! Lauren said, laughing. I looked at her, quizzically. Yeah... why? How many have you had today? I dont know... thirteen? Thirteen! What? Too much? Lauren shook her head, smiling. She liked it when I was dry. Across the pool, my eyes found Layla, tanning. The sunburn she had when we first met had turned to a golden brown. Even after the embarrassment of the hugging incident, I still wanted to give her a tongue bath. When I turned back to Lauren, she was frowning. Shes not that pretty, you know... Huh? I decided to pretend I hadnt been caught staring. I watched as Lauren considered giving me a hard time, but in the end, thought better of it. Come on, she said. Lets go swimming. We went off to change into our bathing suits, Lauren came back in a psychedelic two-piece that hugged her apple bottom. We spent the next hour or two swimming in the pool, shooting baskets on the low net. Or rather, I spent the time shooting baskets. Lauren spent the duration trying to pants me, ducking under the water to see what she could see. After a while, I loosened my bathing suit string and let her have at it because I had half an erection and was feeling confident. She stayed underwater for a long time, finally surfacing as if nothing had happened. Taylor? a voice said behind me. I turned to see my boss, Mr. Mayer, beckoning me over from the side of the pool. A word please? I yanked up my bathing suit and took my time swimming over so that the aforementioned half-erection would be gone by the time I got out of the pool. When I was convinced I was safe, I climbed out and made my way to him. You are aware that staff cannot fraternize with club members? he said. He coughed before fraternize and I had no idea whether hed seen Lauren pants me. But shes my friend... If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. Mr. Mayer shrugged. Im sorry, but I dont make the rules. He was about to set off when he remembered something. Oh, heres your paycheck. He slid a white envelope out from under the clasp on his clipboard and handed it to me, not knowing the gravity of his words. This was my very first paycheck. As he hurried away, I opened it greedily. A check for $204.37 stared back at me. For two weeks work... What. The. Fuck. I read it over and over again, but the words stayed the same. Eventually, Dean passed with all his belongings and tried to read over my shoulder. Whats that? he asked. My paycheck. Good, well need it. Were going to Richs house. Whos Rich? From my school... How would I know that? Just come on. He started to drag me towards the exits, just as Lauren swam over. Where are you guys going? To do drugs. Can I come? she asked, already climbing out of the pool. Dean barked no girls allowed! in her face, surprisingly loud, which made Hudson and Avi laugh. I apologized profusely but followed them out. ** Twenty minutes later, Hudsons father dropped us off at Richs house. It was a beige, non-descript kind of place, something a suburban bomb-maker might live in. Inside, it was dark and there was a thin layer of cat dander over everything. Rich had four cats and it smelled like it. Mercifully, he led us out to the screened in patio. I quickly learned that Rich was a wild card. He had beady, bloodshot eyes and was always laughing at someone, never with. His mother had died when he was very young and now he lived alone with his father. Rich was the only weed dealer at Deans school. He was constantly high on his own supply and making up slang that he somehow expected you to know. He would lambast you if you couldnt figure it out. He said words like quap which I found out months later meant quarter pound. In the meantime, all you could do was smile and nod. As we found seats on the wicker deck chairs, Rich pulled out a three-and-a-half foot bong. Dean and I had only recently dipped our toes into the drug world, smoking a homemade, tin-foil bowl in his basement while his parents were asleep. But this... this seemed a little advanced. We watched as Rich took the first hit. I had never seen so much smoke in all my life. He passed the bong over to Hudson, who somehow had a lower voice all of a sudden. Wish I could man, but Im on the swim team and we get tested for drugs. Rich nodded. No one really questioned that it was summer vacation. Hudson handed the bong to Dean, who looked like he wanted to be as clever as Hudson but just didnt have it in him. Dean struggled to light the bowl, so Rich lit it for him. I watched as Dean took the tinsiest of hits and passed it along to me, coughing. Yeah, its better if you cough. Rich said, cackling. In my recent attempts at fitting in, I had begun taking things to the extreme. So, when my turn came, I was not about to take a preschool-sized hit. When I hit, I hit big. But it just kept coming... You gotta clear it, Rich kept saying. I know how to do it, I maintained, but still didnt cap it, letting valuable smoke escape. No, youre wasting it, man! He grabbed the bong from me and cleared it himself. Fuckin first time, huh? Hudson and Dean laughed. I would have stuck up for myself, but I was starting to feel weird. The picture window frames of Richs patio started to run on a loop like a roll of film... This was not fun. I was pretty sure I was hallucinating. So, its $25 for a gram, $50 for an eighth. Rich started to explain. I guess I missed some of the conversation because suddenly all eyes were on me. I, uh... actually dont have any cash. I managed to mumble. But you have your paycheck. Dean pointed out. Rich nodded. Oh, thats easy, just sign it over to me. Even Hudson was getting in on it. Yeah, just sign it over to him! Apparently, money meant so little to the wealthy that they could spend yours without even realizing it. I hissed at Dean, maybe I dont want $200 worth of weed! Dean lowered his voice. Please dont embarrass me. I was covered in that good old flop sweat and was getting tired of everyone looking at me. Fine, you can owe me. I said and handed over my newly-earned paycheck. I would never see that money again. But that was farthest from my mind. By now, the fear was upon me. It was a horrible, stomach-drop feeling, the closest Ive come to realizing true terror. It felt as if everyone around me was about to attack. Like a voice was telling me to run. Muscles shook independently of me asking them to and my eyes darted looking for the multiple exits. I needed to be alone. I needed to lay down, but suddenly everyone was talking about going out into nature, which meant walking to the park. This was as ill-informed as Janets friends going to the carnival, but I couldnt find the words to object. As Hudson, Dean, and Rich walked in a group, I tried to keep up. But just staying balanced was a chore. I had never been so tired in all my life. My body was literally shutting down, so much so that I was falling asleep while walking. Hudson and Rich kept looking back at me and laughing. Dean just looked like he wanted to kill me. He told me to fuckin get it together! so I slapped my face a few times, which just seemed to unnerve everybody. As the municipal building came into view, they gave me a wide berth. The towns Board of Education had a small playground where the special ed kids would play. I followed Dean and his friends over to it. They grabbed seats in a gazebo where Rich began to roll a blunt. I couldnt even fathom smoking any more, let alone being around people that were. As Rich licked it closed, he asked Hudson and Dean what they were up to tonight. To me it seemed like that old clich of the drug dealer who doesnt know when to go home, but I was alone on that front. I listened as Dean said that hed probably just be chilling at home tonight. Words stopped meaning anything. I said to Dean, I thought we were sleeping over at my house tonight. No... I said wed talk about it. You never want to sleep at my house. What, is there something wrong with it?! Hudson and Rich had turned their complete attention onto the two of us. Feeling the glare of the spotlight, Dean finally blurted out: I dont feel safe there, okay?! Lets just stay at my house! What, you think my place is shitty? That I live in a bad neighborhood-- --Fine, I do, okay?! Just drop it! Dean stormed off with Hudson and Rich. I watched as they started a fun game of swinging as hard as they could on the swing-set and then launching themselves at the last possible moment to see how far they could go. I joined them just as Deans turn was up. He pumped his legs to get momentum going. As he did, I thought about how shitty the day had turned out. Right when Dean was about to launch himself, I pushed the swing next to him into his path. My intent was just to get him tangled up. But the seats were made of hard plastic and the seat caught him hard on his forehead. All I saw was blood. Lots of it... Realizing that Deans house was only two blocks away, I ran like my life depended on it. I ran faster than my feet could carry me, so fast that I was barely touching asphalt. I made it in roughly ninety seconds. Aunt Lynn was out by her car. I ran up to her and told her that Dean had cracked his head open. Before she jumped to life, before she raced to the driver seat, she stared at me with the strangest look... A sickening, detestable look, like I was a feral creature meant to be held at bay. I could almost read her thoughts: Oh my god, you hurt my son again. She yelled for me to get in the car and I did. We raced back to the park and nearly crashed into a car going the other way. It slowed to a crawl as the driver flagged us down. Some mother at the park had put Dean in her car and drove him down the hill towards his parents house. When Lynn saw the blood all over his face, she stifled a scream. She hustled him into her car and together we drove to Overlook hospital. It was the first time I had been there since Id been born. During the drive, she tried to get the story from either one of us as to how this happened. All I could say was, we were just swinging. At the hospital, Dean was seen right away. Lynn had to hang back in the waiting room to fill out some paperwork. She gave him a kiss on the top of his head as a nurse led him back into the emergency room. I saw Lynns face as she smelled his skunk weed hair. I watched the wheels of recognition click. But she didnt say anything. Which I found fascinating... I just kept apologizing, saying it was an accident over and over again. But part of me thought that I had done it intentionally, to make him feel some kind of pain. When Dean finally got his stitches though, he forgave me. But Lynn never seemed to... A poor person had hurt her son. And from that day on she kept me at a distance. Chapter Eleven -- February, 1969 (Cat Stevens – “Lilywhite”)
Chapter Eleven
-- February, 1969
Cat Stevens C Lilywhite
The Eames chair was being reupholstered, so William sat where he always sat when he wanted to ignore his family: on the far side of the couch, using the armrest to prop up his ashtray. He was absorbed in a re-run of Gunsmoke as Janet came up behind him, wrapped her arms around him, and gave him a hug.
Hi, sweetie, he said.
Janet didnt let go right away, so William added, Afraid Ill fly away?
Just sayin hi
Hi, sweetheart.
She loosened her grip to play with his tie, a red one with a repeating, gold fleur de lis pattern on it. I like this tie.
Tell your mother that C she does the shopping. Janet moved to stand, but her father held her back. Hey, do me a favor? While youre up... He lifted his almost empty glass and jiggled the ice cubes inside. Can you get me a Dewars on the rocks, but easy on the--
Janet rolled her eyes. --yeah, yeah, easy on the boulders. Very funny, dad! She took the glass from him and headed for the kitchen.
**
The next day, in the same space, Sandra had decorated grandly for Bills impromptu getting into college party. There was a drinks table, a martini luge, a banner fresh from the printers, and caterers circling with canapes. Janet reached for a passing hor deurve, but after her mother coughed judgmentally, she thought twice.
As usual, Bill sat off to the side, hating every moment of it. Typically, Janet and her friends were banished to the basement. Now he watched as they mingled in unfamiliar surroundings. It just seemed unnatural.
When the doorbell rang, William went to answer it. On the doorstep, he found the loveliest redhead hed ever seen in his life. Simone entered, sniffling into a Kleenex.
Hello, Mr. Benson. She blew her nose loudly.
Hello, darling... William thought he knew most of his kids friends, but he definitely would have remembered being introduced to this one. Realizing he was staring, William helped the girl out of her coat and showed her into the den.
As Simone greeted her friends, William lingered on her backside. When Sandra entered the room though, he quickly turned to go hang up the girls coat.
On his return, he saw his oldest sulking on the couch, far away from everyone else. Your mother worked very hard on this. Go mingle with your friends.
Bill scoffed. These arent my friends.
Bill... William began, in his tone of warning.
I hate parties. She knows that.
Nevertheless.
Bill groaned, but finally pushed himself up from the couch. He headed for the kitchen, passing J.B. who was on his knees before the living room television. J.B. had commandeered the set to watch the CBS Evening News, a move which angered many a partygoer.
Behind him, Cody complained from the folding chair he was sitting in. Come on J.B. youre monopolizing the television C I want to watch Pink Panther!
But J.B. was busy ranting. Johnson couldnt just be a lame duck! No, the second he stops bombing North Vietnam he starts bombing Laos. So now what, were fighting two wars?! And Nixon the statesman is supposed to be finding an honorable end to the war? He hasnt done jack shit since hes been in office!
Then stop watching the news!
Im not! Im looking for the Smothers. Maybe theyll make fun of him.
Youre focused on the wrong things, man! Theres another cold war coming and its for the sky!
What the hell do you know about the space program, you soiled pothead!
Everyone who heard it laughed at Cody. He laughed right along with them, until he could gather his thoughts. Youre right, I dont know much... but I do know that the next six months are crucial. Sure, the reds are probably gonna beat us to Venus, theres nothing we can do about that. But we made up some ground when we launched the Mariner probe to Mars--
J.B. tried to interject a joke about martians, but Cody was on too much of a roll to be talked over. --its not just Mars either. In a few years well be sending ships to Mercury and Jupiter. We might even find that were not as alone as we think we are... Cody stood and made his way over to J.B. The possibilities are staggering. In a few short months, well see just what man is capable of. We will climb to the pinnacle of human achievement.
Looking around at his friends, Cody put an arm around J.B. Imagine the five and six-year-olds thatll be watching our guys walk on the moon. Theyll grow up believing that nothing is impossible. That everything is achievable. He smiled. And I think thats pretty cool...
Cody trailed off, lost in thought. He was immediately taken aback by the thunderous, standing ovation from his friends. They were joking, of course, but also strangely impressed. Except for J.B. who stormed out of the room.
As the clapping wore off, Janet turned back to her boyfriend. I know you thought this night was all about Bill, she said, hiding something behind her back, but you thought wrong. She grinned and showed him the present she was concealing. For you, dummy.
Up until then, Matt had looked bored, but the prospect of a gift turned him right around.
A present? What for? My birthdays not for six months...
Just open it. Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.
Matt tore open the long, narrow box and came face-to-face with a red velvet tie wreathed in gold fleur de lis. Huh... he said, frowning.
Janet wilted. You hate it! She tried to grab the box back from him, but Matt resisted. No, I dont hate it... its just... its not really my style. He tried to elaborate. Its like something my dad would wear.
Well, I always said your dad had fabulous taste.
Then would you mind if I re-gifted it to him for Fathers Day? Janet tried to hit him, but Matt got to her first. It devolved into a tickle fight.
Returning from the kitchen, J.B. saw Bills dad over by the bar cart and managed to corner him. Mr. Benson, did you see Huntley-Brinkley last night? That bull about training the ARVN? What a disaster...
William didnt recognize the boy who had invaded his personal space but decided to answer anyway. I dont know, Adams says were turning the tides...
J.B. scoffed. He would think that - hes Nixons lackey!
My friends son is stationed over there. I think I know a little more about it than you...
But how can you say that after Tet?! After that police chief executed that prisoner without a trial?! Troop levels are the highest theyve ever been! Thousands of our guys are being given involuntary second tours C thats not the behavior of a country thats winning!
William was starting to get annoyed. Maybe wed be doing better if we had the hearts and minds of the people at home! Instead, we get priests pouring napalm on draft records and college kids provoking the police! Thank God we finally have someone with vision running the country--
J.B. threw his hands up. He walked off, mumbling to himself. I cant... I just cant...
William shook his head, confused. He ducked under the multi-purpose Congratulations banner and found his son in the crowd. Listen bud, I dont think Im staying much longer.
Youre leaving? Bill seemed crestfallen.
You dont want your old dad around. Youre a man now. If youre anything like your father, women will be throwing themselves at you.
Bills cheeks went red as William clapped him on the shoulder. Have a good time, son. With that, William headed upstairs.
Bill watched him go. Seeing as there was now no adult supervision, he headed straight for the bar. He found John Birch already camped out there. Theres something different about your ex... J.B. said, pointing out Amy ODell across the party.
Something different was an understatement. Gone were the cheerful tones and bright make-up, only to be replaced by an all-black catsuit, something a puppeteer or a beatnik might wear. She stood in front of the roaring fireplace looking moody with dark lipstick and an ominous, black baret.
Cody was trying his best to hit on her. So, how you liking the party, Ames?
Amy answered Cody, but never once looked at him, choosing instead to give Bill a death stare. Apparently, youve never read the Bell Jar, because if you had youd know that life is loneliness, despite all the opiates, despite the shrill tinsel gaiety of parties with no purpose, despite the false grinning faces we all wear. And when at last you find someone to whom you feel you can pour out your soul, you stop in shock at the words you utter - they are so rusty, so ugly, so meaningless and feeble from being kept in the small cramped dark inside you so long... Amy petered off, unable to continue.
Cody let the silence fill the space between them. Who said that C Steve Allen?
But Amy wasnt in the laughing mood. Why wont he look at me, Cody? She was practically boring a hole into Bill, but he was too occupied to notice. He had his eyes on Simone. She was sitting nearby talking to Maggie Birch about a date she had tonight that she thought she might have to cancel if she got any sicker. Even while blowing her nose, she was the most beautiful thing Bill Benson had ever seen.
**
When it started to snow that night, Bill got into his winter jacket and boots and headed outside. He had no idea where he was going when he started, but he began walking just the same. When his feet found their way to the brick house on Maple, he knew it was meant to be. Bill looked up at the inviting light coming from the upstairs bedroom. He wanted to live in that light, thought that if he could just manage that, then everything else would work out fine.
Upstairs held a plush, appointed bedroom with angora rugs and floral walls. It stood empty until its owner emerged from the bathroom still naked from her shower. Simone had finished drying off but was unsure if she should step into the satin slip dress that awaited her on her bed or simply put on pajamas and call it a night.
Using a head band to hold her fiery red hair back, she looked at her face in the wide vanity mirror she had that was ringed with lights. Her cheeks did appear a little peaked. She decided to take her temperature and let that be the judge. If she was over a hundred, she wouldnt go out. She got the rectal thermometer from her desk drawer and stretched out on her bed.
She always liked this part, the way her asshole would resist just enough, until she applied the right amount of pressure. Then shed feel that shivery chill as the cold glass slid inside her. She laid on her stomach and read Cosmo until the results were ready.
Looking up at the window, Bill knew something was going on up there, something that only the best-looking men got to see. And why shouldnt he be allowed to know? In that moment it was clear C he was going to climb the gutters and scale that house.
He had always been light, thank god for that. The gutters groaned a little under his weight but held steady. He made his way up onto the porch roof and tried to figure out how he was going to get over to Simones window. There it stood, six feet away, just above his head. A running leap would do it, but hed have to be quiet.
Backing up, he said a quick prayer. He took a few breaths to brace himself, then started running. The snow on the porch roof provided good traction until the last step. As Bill launched himself towards the lit window, his boots slipped. He found himself in mid-air, every muscle in his body taut with a horrible mistake. Luckily, his fingers just barely caught hold of the ledge. He let the rest of his body go limp as he bounced gently against the house.
This was it. He could feel the excitement building. Everything that had been denied to him... with one pull-up, he would be shown the world...
Slowly, he lifted himself up, level with the windowsill. He took in Simone laying on her belly, reading a magazine. Her cheeks were flushed, and she was nude, the pale skin that underwear and bathing suits usually covered had been exposed.
But to Bills surprise, the nudity wasnt the headline. It was the thermometer she had planted in her ass. The one she was absent-mindedly pushing in and out as she moaned.
If Bill had died right there, he would have died happy. But that was not meant to be...
Instead, his foot scraped against the siding of the house and Simone looked up, frightened. Before she could get a proper glimpse of her voyeur though, Bill let himself drop the two stories to the snowbank below.
He heard something snap in his leg, but there was no time for delay. He scrambled to his feet and hobbled away just as Simone came to the window in her bathrobe. By the time she got her head out to look around, Bill had staggered off into the shadows.
Even when he was out of sight, he kept moving. When he arrived at home, he didnt go right inside. Instead, he took the driveway up into the backyard and stumbled past Bludgeons doghouse. He entered the tool shed, breathing heavily. When he was absolutely sure he hadnt been seen, he reached a hand behind the dusty cabinet and wrestled out a bottle he had hidden there. He drank like a man trying to forget.
**
The next time the gang was all together, Simone detailed to a disbelieving Janet and Maggie the story of her peeping tom. Bill listened from across the room as Simone changed details of the account, obviously embarrassed. And he breathed a sigh of relief when Janet asked if she had recognized the creep and Simone had answered, No, it happened too fast. She shook her head, disappointed. Wish hed broken his neck when he fell...
As sensational as her story was, the conversation eventually turned to where they were going to dinner that night. A sit-down Chinese place was chosen, and everyone made for their coats and scarves. Bill was putting on his gloves, when he dropped one. He leaned over to pick it up and groaned as a pain shot up his hurt leg.
He looked up. The only other person left in the basement was Simone. She had heard the groan. They locked eyes. He watched her put two and two together, saw the wheels of comprehension turning, before he tore out of the basement door, past the others.
Janet yelled after him, hey, where are you going?!
Bill yelled over his shoulder, I left something in the shed. Chapter Twelve -- Late July, 1999 (Elliott Smith – “Somebody that I Used to Know”) Chapter Twelve -- Late July, 1999 Elliott Smith C Somebody that I Used to Know We had known about the trip for a while. The adults wanted to get away and Sheilas family had a home in Bermuda. I wanted to go along, but they said this wasnt a kids trip. Kevin was to stay here and watch us. Typical of Sheila, she showed up to take Mom and the others to the airport in a long, black stretch. I asked to go for a quick joy ride, but they were running late. Remember, Mom said before shutting the door, Uncle Kev is picking you up after he gets off work, so be where he can see you. No rolling down hills! I havent done that since I was five! Sheilas voice issued from deep within the limo. Janet, were gonna be late-- Okay, we gotta go! Bye, honey! Mom slammed the door and the car immediately took off down the road. When Uncle Kev came by several hours later, he seemed like a man unleashed. He smoked cigar after cigar in his Suburban, the windows barely cracked. His kids were all sunburnt because no Lynn meant no one to remind them that suntan lotion existed. I was seated next to Dean, who had just gotten his stitches out. We were on good terms, if somewhat awkward. I swatted the secondhand cancer that came my way as Kady leaned past us to ask, Daddy, how much money do we get when you die? Kev looked at her in the rearview with mock concern. Not enough to kill me, sweetheart. Dinner at the club was a rarity because Uncle Kev was a notorious tight wad. He guarded the familys chit number with an iron first. It was the code youd write at the top of orders say, at the canteen or in the pro shop, so the club would know which members to charge. He had had to change it multiple times because when his kids ultimately found out what it was, they would charge up a storm. I dont know why he was surprised by their behavior; rich kids live to spend their parents money. Its them pushing boundaries. And their parents spoil them right back because thats all they know about parenting. Especially if they were raised wealthy themselves. But with Lynn gone and the possibility of having to cook for five kids looming over his head, Kevin weighed the choices and picked throw money at the problem. The dining room at night looked even more decked out than when Id seen it on my first interview. The candelabras that hung overhead lit everything with a soft, special occasion light. Mr. Mayer greeted us as we entered. If possible, he was even more obsequious and fawning than he normally was. He led us to a choice table in a prime location where we had more utensils than any human could conceivably use in a lifetime. A cadre of waiters stood waiting nearby should anyone drop one. During dinner, I noticed two of the guys I worked with in the canteen all dressed up in the required salmon top and tails. I waved at Diego and Jesus, but they chose to ignore me. They were very committed to their roles. When the meal was finished, the patio near the pool was cleared of deck chairs and golf umbrellas and live music started playing. After dinner drinks led to dancing, which suited Uncle Kev just fine. I dont know if he requested it, but Boz Scaggs Lido Shuffle came on and Kevin lost his mind, dancing with different peoples wives who looked just tickled pink to be included. I watched him smoke cigars out in the open, do shots with the tennis pros, and schmooze with the best of them. When we left, he took a sippy cup with him into the Suburban, calling it a roadie. Really? I said. Cause it smells like Vodka. God, youre smart. Youre so smart. He insisted I sit in the front seat to talk to him during the ride home. I quickly found out he drove the same way he did when he was sober. He swerved in and out of lanes as cars screeched and honked to get out of his way. He would remember he needed to take an exit on the highway seconds too late, so hed pull onto the shoulder and actually reverse against traffic until he was able to take said exit. Taylor, my boy C that was a fun night! he said, clapping me on the back. It sure was C eyes on the road. Why didnt you dance more? Well, Id have to dance at all to dance some more. Thats a good point. The music that Kady had turned on was loud enough that we were basically having a private conversation. Can I ask you something? I hollered over the music. Sure thing! he yelled back. I saw you flirting back there with some of the housewives... Uncle Kev grinned. Thats not a question. When I didnt continue, he elaborated. When youve been with someone as long as I have youve gotta find little ways of showing them youre worth being with. He leaned in to confide to me, his breath almost flammable. Lynns so beautiful... sometimes... I dont even know why shes with me. I nodded, letting him talk. You do know I would never cheat on her, right? But sometimes its good to hear that your husband still had fun when you were away. It seemed like backwards thinking to me, but he was being honest, so I thought I would be too. Its not just women though. I think you handle people. Handle people? he asked, not entirely hearing me. Yeah, handle people. You give em nicknames and clap em on the back. You say, there he is! whenever someone enters a room to make them feel good, when actually you dont remember their fucking name-- Kevin laughed, caught. I continued. You handle people. Youre phoning it in. Youre a big fish in a small pond and you like it that way. This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there. He took a long, serious pause and then smiled at me from under his eyebrows. You think Im a big fish? he finally said. Youre ridiculous. He caught his kids reflections in the rearview mirror. Look, all I ever wanted to be was a father. Everything else is just extra. So what if I flatter some dummies at the club? Every conversation cant be deep and involved like the ones we have. I began to smile as he pulled into his driveway. Then I realized what he was doing. Uncle Kev - are you HANDLING me?! He took a sip of his road soda and turned the car off. Youll never know. And with that, he went inside. ** When the weekend rolled around, Uncle Kev was tired of watching us and jumped at the chance to drop us anywhere in town. We opted for Avi Schmidts house. Avis father was a criminal defense lawyer, so they lived in a McMansion on the tony side of town. It was modern without being over the top. It had a fire pit and a swimming pool in back, and the fact that it sat on eight acres of land meant that there was still a considerable front lawn. By coincidence, Avis parents were also on vacation. Theyd be gone all weekend. Somehow word of this slipped out to the entire student body of Caldwell Junior High, leading to a hundred drunk teenagers showing up on Avis doorstep. Faced with devastating peer pressure, Avi had no choice but to let them in the house. Once inside they spread out to all the rooms, but the majority of them headed for the basement. In those days, we couldnt go anywhere without drinking. We got booze where we could, usually someones older brother. But that required forethought, negotiations and a heavy mark-up. Instead, we found a homeless guy hanging out at the train station who we paid three dollars to buy us beer. Once we had it, we covered the haul with our jackets and fled back to Avis house. It was supposed to be a toga party, but only the girls took it seriously. The boys probably looked for any reason NOT to look silly. There were kids everywhere. Children take note: if you want your parties to continue, then keep your guests in the basement. That was not the case here. Uninvited party crashers multiplied exponentially. They were in the upper rooms and spilling out into the backyard. This party had a shelf life of forty-five minutes, tops. I looked around at everyone who was there. Layla looked great as usual, but I guess even she felt awkward in social situations because she started to drink. A lot. And she was not what youd call a good drinker. Next to her, a group of high schoolers had gotten into Avis fathers liquor cabinet. They kept cheers-ing with his booze. Someone figured out there was a mini fridge and started pulling out half-bottles of champagne. One of the corks shot across the room, shattering a glass. But instead of cleaning it up, the guy who did it just said, its cool, its that Jewish kids house, no one cares. If Avi knew any of this, he didnt seem to care. Having resigned himself to the inevitability of the party, Avi set about completing the trifecta, which involved kissing three different girls in the same night. He had gotten two easily enough, but a third proved elusive, so much so that he was actually considering going for a girl that most people thought was mentally retarded. She was cruelly, but accurately, nicknamed Sloth after the mongoloid from The Goonies. In the weeks since Richs house, Hudson had been finding it harder and harder to make excuses for not smoking weed. His latest end around was only taking shotguns of a blunt instead of actually smoking. This involved flipping the blunt around and having another person blow smoke into your mouth. It always looked like he was necking with the person doing it to him. Not that any of these homophobic fucks ever called him out on it. I guess he thought that if push came to shove and he was caught that he could still honestly tell his mother I didnt smoke ma, honest C someone blew it into my mouth! Hudson wanted to be edgy, but still please his parents. I think he actually believed that hed never get high this way. I saw the moment when he finally did. He smiled stupidly, a look on his face that said, this is what Ive been running from?! Dean was also being annoying, playing the role of an experienced drinker by lying about the number of beers hed had to make himself sound cooler. It seemed like everyone at this party was flirting with the idea of being older. In revenge for Schmidts slushie prank, Lauren decided to mock him by doing exactly what he was doing, except her trifecta would be a collection of hickeys. She began circling the party in her toga, offering her neck to willing boys. For some reason, it reminded me of my mother and Glen Tonche, so I steered clear. But this was becoming increasingly harder to do. Everything and everyone in my life was saying date this girl. Its terrible to admit, but I thought I could do better. Me, the autistic freak, thought he could do better than hilarious and kind and fun to go to the movies with Lauren. In hindsight, I picked a really shitty way to share my feelings... She found me in the darkened kitchen hiding from everyone. Sidling up to me, she drunkenly whispered, Taylor kiss me. If I had a time machine, I would go back and kiss that drunken, frat girl right there in that kitchen and never let go. But I was fourteen and all I could think about was what Layla was doing. So, when Lauren asked me to kiss her, I reacted poorly, responding with an emphatic, No! The little she could see of my face was disgusted. She laughed it off and I hoped that by tomorrow it would be a distant, drunken memory for her. I wandered downstairs to see if I could find Layla. The girl was in the middle of what people like to call an incident. She was drunk and had fought with Stephanie. Now she was crying on the toilet. Steph was trying to console her, but the door was open, and a crowd had started to form. From where I stood, I could see her through the crack of the door. Her jeans and underwear were around her ankles, her full hips on display. She was too drunk to care or notice. The makeshift tunic she had constructed for the yoga party barely covered her midriff and I could see her landing strip. If I pivoted just right, I knew Id be able to see everything. But something stopped me from doing that. I remembered Bill looking in Simones window. I didnt want that to be me. For once in my deviant little life, I would do the right thing. This girl was miserable. Unfortunately, that was the moment she looked up and caught me staring. Before I could wrench myself away, I noticed that she didnt look embarrassed. She looked lost. Thats when she screamed, Taylor, you pervert - shut the fucking door! It caused a scene. Suddenly, Hudson was there, showing off in shining armor knight mode. There was hardly any time to explain before he shoved me. Instinctively, I pushed back, and Hudson tripped over the person behind him. When he tried to catch his fall, his elbow went straight through the basement drywall, tearing out a two-foot wide section. Hearing the crash, Avi stormed over. He took one look at the damage and ordered everyone out. The crowd was pissed. And they were pissed at me! I had single-handedly ended the party. Once again, the poor kid was going to take the wrap. I had to get out of there. Every few feet, someone shoved me or yelled at me. People asked rhetorically why doesnt he hang out with people his own age?! The high schoolers who had gotten into Schmidts dads brandy cornered me just as I tried to grab my coat and leave. The angriest one of them claimed that my coat was actually his coat. He started pulling it out of my hands, so I pulled back. I was in a tug of war with a freshman. He asked me if I was crying, which hadnt occurred to me until right then, but it seemed like a good idea. Fortunately, Dean separated us and shoved me out the front door. Hot tears burned from my eyes as I walked ahead of him. Taylor, what the fuck happened back there?! he demanded. I tried not to answer, knowing my voice would betray me. Guy tried to steal my coat-- Fuck the coat, you ruined Schmidts wall! I couldnt believe what I has hearing. He was standing up for the enemy. No, Hudson ruined Schmidts wall! Yeah, you pushed him! He pushed me first! He was defending Layla! He was trying to get laid! You gotta go back and apologize! Are you serious?! I cant go back in there! Theyll eat me alive! You cant act like this! Neither can you! I bring you around, I introduce you to people, and this is the thanks I get-- Yeah well, dont do me any favors! If thats the way you want it then, youre out! Get your own fucking friends! I stood there, silently furious, wiping the embarrassed tears from my eyes. It took a moment before I finally spoke up. I deserve better friends than you. Dean stared at me, coldly. Then I hope you get them. Chapter Thirteen -- December, 1969 (Led Zeppelin – “Babe, I’m Gonna Leave You”) Chapter Thirteen -- December, 1969 Led Zeppelin C Babe, Im Gonna Leave You He dreamed of a spring day when he was little, when he and his mother were having a picnic. Bill couldnt have been more than two at the time, laying in a pram on a checkered blanket. Sandra smiled as big as the world as she attended to him, covering her face every so often to play peek-a-boo. When William called to her from the house though, she stood with a start. Running for the house, she left Bill on his own. From the tree line they came; all manner of vermin: weasels and rats, foxes and jackals, badgers and ferrets, sniffing their way to the picnic. Their teeth and claws dug into the baby blanket and together they dragged the bassinette into the dark forest. Bill woke suddenly in his dorm room at Dillard House. He wasnt alone. The girl with the glasses from last night, the only one willing to go home with him from the bar, slept next to him. He peeled back the sheets, tentatively. When he saw that hed pissed himself, he looked like he wanted to die. He didnt have time to consider his options though. The girl was waking. Bill laid back down and clamped his eyes shut tight. The co-ed stretched and yawned unaware, rolling out of the bed to use the hall bathroom. When Bill was sure she was gone, he rose quickly, eyes darting about the room as if a solution might present itself. In the end, he decided to just lock the door. ** Days later, back home in the alcove formed by the overhanging kitchen above, Bill and his friends stood outside the basement door smoking a quick joint. It was freezing outside. Not that you could tell by looking at Cody. All he had on was a ratty, Led zeppelin t-shirt and shorts. Arent you cold? Janet asked. You never wear a jacket when we come outside.... Cody took a bogart of a rip and spoke while exhaling. Am I doing fuckin manual labor out here? No! Well be back inside soon enough. Janet shook her head as Cody passed to Bill. So, how you liking UVA, Bill? I hear southern girls are wild in bed... Bill turned red. He was saved from having to answer when J.B. butted in. You want girls? Theres a happening next month you guys should really be involved in! Everyone groaned. Stop trying to radicalize us, J.B. Maggie warned her brother. You havent even heard what it is! Im gonna go down to the enlistment center on fourth and main and hold up a sign that says: sign up for war crimes here. John, were not going anywhere with you! Janet said, backing Maggie up. Dont be a fascist, Janet! Let them answer for themselves! But the others quickly agreed with her. Youre all traitors... J.B. mumbled, taking one last hit. Anybody want the rest of this? Cody shook his head. No, stub it out, well finish it later. They headed back indoors, grateful for the heat. They were gone for mere seconds when Nick jumped down from where he was hiding in the rafters. He grabbed what was left of their roach and split. Once inside, the gang took their seats back around the T.V. Maggie returned to the couch though to find all the spots taken up. Where am I supposed to sit?! she demanded. When no one moved, she declared, Oh, heres a spot! and plopped herself down onto Glens lap, much to the amusement of everyone but Janet. Glen was only too willing to play along. Maggie adored the attention. She wiggled around trying to get comfortable. I feel like this chair was a lot softer when I first sat down... but now its kind of hard... She bopped up and down a few times, smiling. Janet shot daggers at her best friend, but Maggie didnt even notice. Nearest to the set, Cody turned the television on. J.B. immediately balked at what was on the screen: Nixon in the Rose garden. Can we watch something else? Im really not in the mood to be lied to. Come on, I thought you liked the daughter. Matt said, his arm around Janet. Who, Tricia? Yeah, but her dads all religious so you know hed have to watch. Matt warned him. You should be careful. You never know whos listening... Oh, please! Whatre they gonna do? Send me to Vietnam?! Im just articulating the popular rage. That son of a bitch hasnt said word one about troop withdrawals... J.B. appeared sated for the moment, when he suddenly yelled, And how the hell could he pardon William Calley! They raped and scalped people! They killed babies! He looked around the room to apathetic faces. Guys, I cant be the only person who cares about this... Well, what do you want us to do about it, J.B?! Glen wanted to know. I dont know - care?! Something! Instead of nothing, which is what all of you are dead set on doing! You didnt come to the Central Park Be-In or the March on the U.N. or the Spring Mobilization Conference-- If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Glen cut his list off, demanding, Why is it up to us?! Because we cant count on the politicians - every time one has a fighting chance, they drive an intern off a fucking bridge! Now be the silent majority and join me! His friends blew raspberries and heckled him until he got to his feet. You know what?! he said. I dont need this! Washing his hands of them, J.B. stormed upstairs. What a loon... Bill chuckled, as the basement door slammed shut. Janet sighed. I dont know, Bill. Hes got a point... Watch your tone, sissy, or Ill sic Glen on you! No, I dont beat women, I just fuck em. Janet rolled her eyes. Oh, thats charming... The fuck do you care?! You pretend like youre joking, but youre clearly not. Hey, I believe a womans place is in the bedroom-- --Youre disgusting! Janet stood up, in protest. Matt tried to stop her. Janet, dont go! Its Glen - he says bone-headed things! Glen scoffed. I say well-researched things. Matt caught up with his girlfriend near the back door. Why is this bothering you? Why isnt it bothering you?! Janet demanded before stomping outside. Matt stood there watching her go. Cody finally asked, you goin after her? But Matt just shook his head. Fuck it. Let her stew. Im gonna get a beer, anybody else want? A couple hands raised. Matt took a count and headed upstairs. When the room quieted some, Cody pulled his arms into his shirt, noting, Is anyone else freezing?! He looked about the room, but no one seemed to agree with him. Cody sat their miffed, until he noticed something. Hey... wheres John? Bill looked up, alarmed. Oh no... Upstairs, William Benson found himself trapped at his kitchen table by a ranting J.B. What about Rudolf Abel? the kid demanded. William slapped the table. WHAT ABOUT HIM?! Who is this boy--?! He called out to anyone who could hear him, but no one interceded. He rubbed his temples as John continued: Sir, have you read all seventeen volumes of the Warren Report? NO ONE HAS! Earl Warren hasnt even read it! William hollered down the basement stairs, Bill, your communist friend is upstairs again! He tried to lose the kid by crossing to the fridge, but J.B. just followed him. Adlai Stevenson was attacked in Dallas by General Walkers goons right after Walker was shot at in his house by a man that the Warren Commission later identifies as Lee Harvey Oswald - dont tell me thats not connected to the JFK assassination! William slammed the fridge door and turned to face him. Look, maybe when you experience life outside of high school your opinion might matter. Well, I got into college... Oh yeah? What illustrious center for higher learning let you in? Im going to Harvard in the fall. William stared at him, mouth agape. Harvard? Yes. Harvard University? Yeah. You got into Harvard University? You say it like its a hard thing to do. Youre the silliest person I know, and you got into Harvard?! Its really not that big a deal. William shook his head, at a loss for words. He began to back away as J.B. followed him. They fled the room as Matt emerged from the bathroom, drying his hands. He had to move quickly to let J.B. and William through. He watched them go, amused, then leaned into the fridge to find the case of Miller High Life he brought. Mr. Benson had forgot to turn the kitchen television off. Matt half-watched as CBS News called out draft notices for the second time. As Roger Mudd reported live, Matt turned his t-shirt into a canopy and started to load up on beers. Behind him, the T.V. set was barely audible, but he still managed to hear September 14th called out. Matt breathed a sigh of fuck. He stared blindly into the fridge until the program finally went to an ad for Norelco. As Santa sledded around on a portable electric razor, Matt slowly put the beers back, one-by-one. ** Out by the basement door, Janet wrapped herself in a button-up sweater, pulling it tight to block out the cold. The fuck was that about? came a voice from behind her. It was Glen. Janet turned to face him. What do you think it was about?! I think you want two guys to be in love with you at the same time. But Im not biting. Jesus Christ, youre such a narcissist! Im not in love with you! Whatever you say. This is all getting... a little too serious. Why are you doing this? Janet asked. Doing what? All I came out here to say was that Im gonna go away for a while. Maybe see the coast He combed his hair and stared at the horizon. I am so sick of your hippie bullshit! Janet roared. Who am I supposed to talk to now? Have you thought about that? How about your boyfriend? You can tell him anything right? Glen turned heel and headed back inside, leaving her there with her thoughts. Not wanting to give him the satisfaction, Janet waited until he was gone before wiping the tears from her eyes. She took a moment to collect herself before she too returned to the basement. She found her boyfriend sitting on the couch, staring straight ahead. Janet slid in next to him, trying to seem casual. Hey, whered you go? He looked up at her briefly, not really seeing her. I think we should break up, he said. ** In the woods nearby, sitting on a tree stump, Nick pulled out the roach he stole from his brother and sister. He struck one of the overly long fireplace matches he took from home on the tree stump. It lit brightly and he had to hold it away from his body until it calmed before he could light the joint. When he took a first hit, he didnt cough because he was used to smoking cigarettes. But he did wonder how long he was supposed to wait to feel anything. He looked up at the sun-drenched canopy above him and closed one eye and then the other. If anything, he felt impatient for the drugs to work. He hoped theyd kick in soon because he was feeling really happy all of a sudden and wanted to add to this amazing day... When Nick got home, his mother was waiting for him. She was sitting at the table they ate breakfast at, smoking cigarettes in a flower blouse and lavender vest. In front of her, Nick noticed with some horror one of his sketch pads. Sandra leafed through it, haphazardly. Inside there were pictures hed drawn of naked women, but with exaggerated areolas and distended breasts. How could he explain to his mother that he was just trying something out? I was putting away your laundry and I was quite surprised to come across this stuff, she said, looking Nick in the eyes. He refused to meet her gaze. When I see things like this, I can only come to one conclusion... She trailed off and remained quiet until Nick finally looked up, ashamed. My son is an artist. Sandra said, her face blooming in pride. It wasnt until that very moment that Nick realized how high out of her mind she was on pills. He didnt know how to respond, so he let his mother beam. I mean, look at this work C the sensitivity, the scope... youre drawing nudes at the level of a college student! Whatever you need C art classes, a private teacher - your father and I will take care of it. Im really floored by all this, Nicky, and so, so proud! She threw her arms around her son. He let himself be held. Chapter Fourteen -- August, 1999 (Simon & Garfunkel – “Bookends”) Chapter Fourteen -- August, 1999 Simon & Garfunkel C Bookends The news came suddenly. Uncle Nick was sick and had been for some time. The Aunts and Uncles were keeping it a secret for as long as possible to protect their kids. The trip to Bermuda was to say goodbye. With all the drugs Nick took, I couldnt believe it was the cigarettes that were killing him, but I guess even Joe Camel can get cancer. Mom had been different ever since she came back from Bermuda; sleeping in late, skipping meetings, eating everything in the fridge. I had never seen her like this. So, I was nervous when she said we were going to pay Nick a visit. I had never been around a dying person before, but strangely enough that wasnt what was foremost on my mind. I hadnt seen Dean since the party and was only told at the last minute that he would be at Uncle Nicks the same time as we were. When we got there, I tried to stay in the car, but Janet wasnt having it. She practically had to drag me out of the backseat. Sheila met us at the door, telling us hes not having a good day. So, if he seems tired, I need everybody to go back downstairs. We agreed, noticing we werent the first ones there. The Vanowens, who werent particularly close with Sheila and Nick, had beaten us to the house. As we entered the living room, Lynn puttered around tidying up. I watched as Dean pretended that I hadnt just walked in. We stood on opposite sides of the room, refusing to look at each other. It got to be so awkward that even Amanda pointed it out. The adults asked what was wrong, but neither of us would answer. The fallout from the party had been severe. I had tried calling Lauren to apologize, but she wouldnt take my call. In fact, none of Deans friends would have anything to do with me. I wanted to say good riddance, but I think I cared more than I let on. Call it trepidation, but when it came time to climb the stairs to Nicks bedroom, I hung back and let the others head up before me. It had only been a couple of weeks since I had seen Nick, but I was worried what he would look like. When I reached the top of the stairs, I saw the rest of the family crowded around the four-poster bed that held my Uncle. The room was dimly lit. The first thing I noticed when I entered was the smell; a sickly sweet, mildewy one. It reminded me of that Van Morrison song T.B. Sheets. Open up the window, babe. And let me breathe... After Lynn and the cousins said their hellos, I reluctantly stepped forward. Nick was tucked in tightly to prevent him from falling out of bed, so when I leaned in to hug him, my arms had nowhere to go. I ended up just laying on him for a few moments, my hands flat on the bedspread. When I pulled back, I noticed he had lost weight since the sick day I had spent at his house. His rib bones were visible all the way up to his neck. Unsure of where to look, I took stock of the things in the room: the heavy-duty pain meds on the bedside table, the VHS copy of Rocky Horror Picture Show collecting dust atop the VCR. There was a cup of something next to the pills. Apparently, it had gotten hard for Nick to swallow. The only thing he could eat was ice chips, which werent being administered nearly enough as he had cracked lips. But every time someone ran an ice cube over them, they were dry a minute later. His voice was ragged, but he did his best to talk. As the girls had fun putting barrettes in his hair, he gave Dean tips on dating. Its all about confidence, Nick said. I quickly noticed that he was only giving Dean advice. Was there something wrong with me? Sensing that small talk was finished, Uncle Kevin turned the T.V. on and put his feet up. Make yourself at home, Sheila said, sighing. You could tell that having people over outside of cocktail party hours was new for her. Eventually, all the conversations in the room tapered off and we were left in an uncomfortable silence. For some reason, I felt like I had to fill the space. I started saying how jealous I was that Uncle Nick got to lay in bed all day when suddenly his hand shot out from beneath the covers. He grabbed my wrist, surprisingly hard, violently insisting, you dont want this! I was stunned silent, unable to react. Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. Mom calmly separated us, gently prying his hand away. Take it easy... she told him, helping him lay back against the pillows that had been propping him up. When he finally relaxed, a cough racked his upper body, tensing everyone in the room. Sheila hurried to his side with a box of tissues. She held a few to his mouth as he hawked up blood. She cleaned him up as best she could, but his lips stayed red for the rest of our visit. By the end of the week, he lost the ability to speak. And a week after that, he was gone. ** Its odd how swiftly loose ends are tied up. A memorial service was scheduled barely three days after he died. But from looking around at my family, youd hardly know it. At the Episcopal church we went to, there was not a wet eye in the house. It pissed me off. My family were practically British in their talent for holding back emotion. How could I ever tell these people who never talked about feelings, how important they were to me? Instead, they kept everything bottled up. You never see Italians doing that. I imagined my mother as an old, Sicilian grandmother at the funeral for me, her son. How she wailed and clawed at the casket! The image was so ridiculous that I actually smiled during the priests benediction. During the service though there was someone crying. Quite audibly so. A man with salt and pepper hair near the back of the church continuously blew his nose into a Kleenex that he kept re-using. I looked back at him and wondered how he knew my Uncle. On the procession out of the church, Nannie stopped in front of Sheila and held both of her hands in her own. Thank you for taking care of my son, she said. Because he didnt know how. Sheila nodded, choking back tears, unable to respond. As my row made their way out, I made it a point to stop in front of the crying guy in the back row. Excuse me? How did you know my Uncle? Oh, Im Cody Renna - your Aunts brother. Youre Sheilas brother? Yep. Youre Taylor, right? Janets kid? I am. You know, weve met before. You and your Mom stayed at my place in Michigan when you were about five... I thought about it for a second. Alligators. I finally said. What? he looked confused. You told me you had three pet alligators that you kept behind your bar. A genuine laugh escaped his mouth. He threw a hand up to block it, embarrassed. Oh my god, I forgot about that! When his laughter waned, a sad smile took its place. The Bensons were my favorite family. I think I liked it more over there than I did my own house. I know what you mean, I said, thinking about the stories my mother had written. What was Nick like growing up? Oh, he was so much fun. He could be the life of the party. But he was quiet too. Always leaving when people wanted to hang out. The old Irish exit we used to call it. Keep em wanting more, I guess. He was always running away from something or other... As the procession wound its way outside of church, we made our way to the garden where all our deceased family members ashes were buried. It was a perfect square, lined in rose bushes, up against a nook of the church. Being such a picturesque spot, I wondered why we got top billing. And how much it cost... Before they scattered his ashes in the ground, Mom read a poem that Nick had liked. She shook with sobs as she read it. ** Two weeks after the funeral, Mom and I checked in on Sheila. We found her dealing with a broken window. After Nick died, the tree next door had collapsed onto her house, causing major damage to the roof. She called it a sign. We walked carefully around the outdoor elements spilling into her house and followed her up to her bedroom. To their bedroom. The one he died in... I was surprised to find her packing. Most of the room had already been boxed up. Apparently, I was the last to know. She had told Mom, but Mom thought it better that I hear it from Sheila herself. She was moving to Florida to be closer to her mother. Sheila broke the news to me gently, but it still felt like losing two parents all over again. She told me I could visit whenever I wanted, but that didnt feel like much of a consolation. I didnt know why I was being punished like this and why she was leaving. She gave me a box of Nicks clothes because he had said I might appreciate them. I didnt know why he thought that. Unless theres a dress code, Im wearing sweatpants. But Sheila didnt want them to go to Uncle Bill where theyd likely be ruined by cigarette smoke. I wanted to ask if Nick hadnt already ruined them with cigarette smoke, but knew in my bones that no, he probably took good care of his clothes. Before we left, Mom went to use the bathroom and Sheila and I were left alone. She looked like there were so many things she wanted to say. In the end though, she left me with a word of warning about my family. She said, if youre not careful, theyll take everything from you. Chapter Fifteen -- Late August, 1999 (Bonnie Tyler – “Total Eclipse of the Heart”) Chapter Fifteen -- Late August, 1999 Bonnie Tyler C Total Eclipse of the Heart I found myself wanting to fast forward time and get to someplace good. One day Id like to be cool. But I dont see it happening anytime soon. I had played everything wrong and there were no do-overs. I was out of friends. I was out of family. But maybe it was for the best. I couldnt face anyone anyway. When I got home, I locked myself in the bathroom and took off all my clothes. We didnt have a working shower, so I got into the tub and sank down. The bath, the warm water, just made me feel coddled. I didnt deserve warmth. I thought about not jerking off for a change, but that was unheard of. Who knew what might happen if I didnt beat off? I might die. All I remember is that I was crying while I did it. I dont recall what girl I thought of, just that there were tears in my eyes. Drying off, I put a t-shirt and shorts on and headed up to my room. I tried to watch a movie, but I couldnt sit still. I bit at my fingernails and the skin around my fingernails. When sweat appeared on my upper lip and lower back I stood up and began to pace. I had one mirror in my room and when I looked at it, I saw that my face was pale, but my neck was flushed. As the sweat spread around my upper body, I kept telling myself I was fine. But I wasnt. As the fear began to grab at me again, I realized I couldnt stay in this horrible moment one minute longer. I hurried downstairs and out the front door. It was already pitch black out. I ran around the neighborhood, but it just got worse. My hands were shaking uncontrollably. I was afraid that soon I would truly lose control; that I would have a seizure or shit myself. I felt that I had crossed some threshold I could never return from. And there was no one to tell me that it wouldnt last forever. I returned home, passing Jesse and Janet in the living room without saying a word. I headed upstairs to the bathroom and locked the door. I slapped at my head, furiously, to get it to stop. When it didnt, I opened the medicine cabinet and pawed at the bottles I found there. They clattered loudly into the sink. One of the only things that didnt fall was an extra-large bottle of Advil. There were at least 200 pills in there. We usually had smaller bottles and I knew exactly how it had gotten there. A couple days before, Mom had either needed an Advil and asked Susan Schmidt to pick some up or Susan had had an extra bottle. Either way, Avis mom was the one who brought the pills over. It made me think that everything was connected. That this was my punishment for what happened at his house. I took five pills right away. Then seven. I was very conscious of the fact that too many would make me vomit, foiling my plan. I had seen as much in countless Lifetime movies. I decided I would take a couple pills, eat some food. Take a couple more, eat more food. I seriously thought that there was a secret ratio of junk food and Advil that if I hit just right, would float me off into dreamland. By the time I took over thirty Advil though, I started to feel really shitty. It was as if I had swallowed detergent, something noxious I would soon succumb to. I rolled around in bed thinking about what a big mistake I had made. And there was only one way to fix it... Mom was reading in bed when I knocked on her open door. I took some pills, I said. She nearly vaulted up from the bed when she heard this, reaching for the phone. What?! How many?! Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. I hated that I started this. I dont know thirty forty She cut me off because 911 had answered. Hi, my son has taken some pills-- She listened and cupped the phone. What kind? Advil. I said, barely audible. Mom was quiet as the operator told her they were sending an ambulance. I still remember the way the wheels turned inside her head. Even then, she didnt want a scandal. Is it okay if I drive him? she asked. Five minutes later, we were in the Volvo headed to Overlook Hospital. Jesse had to be woken up and quickly dressed. She sat in the backseat. Mom drove determinedly, staring straight ahead as I wailed in the passenger seat begging for forgiveness. She never responded. At the emergency room we were seen right away. They put me in the same room I had been in a few weeks earlier when Dean had gotten his stitches. The ER nurse gave me a charcoal smoothie to drink. It was supposed to coat my stomach to stop the aspirin from being digested. The first sip was so chalky and void of flavor that I immediately puked into the soothing, salmon-colored basin they gave me for just such an occasion. I could barely sip the charcoal smoothie, but they made me finish not one, but two bottles of the stuff! I looked over at the other emergency room stalls to see if I wasnt the only person having the worst night of their life. On the way in, we had passed a police officer standing guard over one of the patients. The guy had rolled up pant legs and was handcuffed to the railing of his hospital bed. Me and this fella were in the same boat, I thought. Trouble. Only he was passed out and got to sleep through most of it. Mom called Aunt Lynn to pick Jesse up and take her to the cousins house. Before Lynn arrived though, Jesse was having a terrific night. The nurses put her in a room with a T.V. and she turned on Nick at Nite, which as an eight-year-old she seemed to enjoy somehow. She spent the most harrowing night of my life watching The Jeffersons. When the staff dropped off a dinner tray, she left the green beans but ate the brownie. After I finished my delicious milkshakes, I was given a room in the pediatric ward so they could monitor me overnight. I was exhausted and fell asleep almost at once. When I awoke the next morning, I noticed that Mom had spent the night sleeping on the couch next to me. Shed been crying, her mascara was smeared. She must have been even more tired than I was because she had managed to fall asleep sitting straight up. A couple hours later, Lynn stopped by for visiting hours. I remember her bringing balloons and a get well soon card, but that couldnt have happened right? Its too perfect - sorry you tried to off yourself, now heres a balloon! Still, she was the only representative the family sent. Which was just as well, I really was too ashamed to see anyone else. She asked, how are you feeling? Not great, I said. Yeah, I dont like hospitals either. I watched her knead the floor anxiously with her foot. I didnt know how to act when she did nice things like this. I was always waiting for the other shoe to drop, for her to pull the rug out from under me. The doctors kept me another night because some of my blood work was off. It was about this time that I heard that not many people die from aspirin poisoning, but that it can do a hell of a number on your liver. I asked Mom what that meant and she said something about a transplant or an iron liver. But that was the worst-case scenario. I put it out of my mind. Seeing as we were in pediatrics, there was a cart that went around with video games and movies. I picked three of each, which was overkill. My roommate had his own video game cart on account of having been there for months. He was black and kind of nerdy with glasses. His kidneys were failing, and hed been on dialysis for most of the year. I couldnt believe it - what luck! To have an entire staff seeing to your every need and doing nothing but playing video games?! This guy was living the life! I couldnt understand why he looked so unhappy... Then I remembered that Nick too had once been living the life. When I got tired of playing Donkey Kong 2, I put on the Gerard Depardieu classic, My Father, the Hero. I knew I shouldnt have, given the roommate situation, but I jerked it twice to teenage Katherine Heigl in a one-piece. The next day, I was declared fit enough to go home. They wheeled me out to the parking lot in a wheelchair, which fed my victimhood quite nicely. I felt the weirdest sense of accomplishment, as if I had finally gone through something important. Something that could be shared with others... Something I could write about. Chapter Sixteen -- September, 1999 (Billy Joel – “The Stranger”) Chapter Sixteen -- September, 1999 Billy Joel C The Stranger I was not looking forward to high school. But suddenly it was here. In anticipation of the event, Mom insisted I see a psychiatrist. I didnt really want to go, but after the hospital visit, I felt like I wasnt in a position to say no. So, on the last Saturday before school started, Mom dropped me off at an office in downtown Summit. My therapist was a British woman named Rebecca Nance. Mom had told her that I liked movies, so we chatted about what was playing at the art house theatres in the city. When I told her about the last six months of my life - especially the freak out at Richs house and my suicide attempt C she asked me if I had ever heard of panic attacks. I shook my head. Never heard the phrase fight or flight? she elaborated. No. It means that youve been pushed to your limits. That youre not capable of staying in the moment, so youre forced to start swinging, so to speak, or run away. Does that sound like something youve been dealing with? At the end of our session, she wrote me a prescription for Prozac and Ativan in the hopes of curbing my depression and anxiety. The only problem was there wasnt enough time for the Prozac to start working before I had to see the Vanowens for Sunday dinner. In the car on the way over, I groaned loudly. Do we really have to go there?! Of course, we have to go, its a tradition. What else would we do? I dont know, I just wanna go home... Mom smacked the steering wheel, tired of my bitching. Would you just tell me what happened between you and Dean? But still, I wouldnt answer. I expected things between Dean and I to still be frosty, but from the moment I entered the house, it was Aunt Lynn who was on top of me. Were you gonna call Mr. Meyer and tell him you couldnt make it into work?! I thought about my stay in the hospital. I had some other stuff going on... I tried to shake her, but Lynn followed me into the kitchen. Yes, but did you ever stop and think how this might reflect back on me? When I shrugged, she hit me with one of her patented withering looks. I figured the evening was ruined, but soon the conversation drifted to Dean and his new girlfriend, Layla, who Aunt Lynn just happened to meet and adore. This was news. I looked over at Dean, who nodded. He had been dressing differently lately. Differently, not better. This meant long-sleeved, collared shirts in the middle of summer. Boat shoes with no socks. This, apparently, was how Layla liked her men. But when the children they were proud of part of the night ended, the focus again shifted back to me. From her purse, Mom pulled out a glossy handbook for a boarding school that had been sent to her. On its cover was a photo of two white students and an Asian in a wheelchair. She handed it to me. As I flipped through it, I saw smiling, besuited future leaders of America mixing beakers and scoring lacrosse goals. The school was called Agony-Bishop. Uncle Nick and Uncle Kev had both attended, Nick for six months before getting kicked out, and Kevin for all four years. Clearly, the adults had been talking about me when I wasnt around because they had decided on their own that I was to be sent away. As bitter as this made me, it had become clear that I didnt fit in with the Long Ditch Public School system. It was time for a change. But its already September, I missed the start of the year... Mom shook her head. They dont start until mid-month. Does that mean they go year-round?! Says here theyre done for the year May 5th. Now that was something they should have led with: a four-month summer! Maybe this private school thing wasnt the worst idea in the world... When they saw that I hadnt rejected the idea outright, Uncle Kevin relayed some stories from his days there. You ever hear of the ugly stick, Taylor? I shook my head. Its when they wrap the handle of a hockey stick in duct tape. Then, the upperclassmen have you swim down the hallway on your belly while they beat you on the ass with it! And that was something that was fun for you? You didnt have a choice! We had this one teacher, no joke, who kept a stack of hockey pucks on his desk that hed whip at you if you were misbehaving-- --What?! I couldnt believe it, Kev actually seemed nostalgic about hazing! And that was just the teachers. The coaches would withhold water from you if you werent giving 110% at practice. Thats gotta be illegal! Im telling you when I went there the place was stuck in the fifties. We were the least political guys on earth, but everyone banded together to protest how strict the school was. Did it help? Did it help?! Kev laughed. Then he caught my Moms judgmental eye. Oh, but Im sure its better now... The problem, as always, was money. I knew we couldnt afford this. Part of our houses foundation was built on final notices. I would be a financial aid case for sure, but even with loans there was still a substantial chunk of tuition left over. The first thing Mom did was call Aunt Sheila, newly moved into her house in Naples, Florida. She always said she thought of me as the son she never had, but when Mom got her on the phone, Sheila rebuffed her so severely it dumbfounded her. Janet thought the plan was dead in the water until Nannie came through at the last second. She requested that the bank make provisions to her trust, so that her daughter could get some inheritance early. I hated that we were wasting it on me. On my entre into high society... Still, I couldnt shake the feeling that my behavior wasnt approved of and thats why I was being sent away. The school sent a checklist of everything Id need as an incoming freshman. I couldnt afford a brand-new wardrobe, but fortunately, most of these items were among Nicks clothes that Sheila had bequeathed me. Mom made me try them on before we packed. I slipped on a suit jacket and put my hands in the pockets, trying to look casual. They werent empty though. I pulled out a tiny plastic baggie and said, uhhh... Mom looked up, saw the coke in my hands, and quickly grabbed it from me. Give me that! She said, secreting it away. I threw my hands up. Hey man, I didnt see anything... I went back to trying things on. Most of Nicks clothes fit surprisingly well. I was in a coat and vest, admiring myself in the mirror, when I made the offhand comment, Im wearing a dead mans clothes... I didnt think much of it, but Mom walked over to her bed and sat down. When she started crying, I knew Id said the wrong thing. I sat next to her and let her get it out. The next day, we drove up to the school. In the car, I had a growing sense of dread. Ive never liked change, but lately that seemed to be all I had been experiencing. I began to bite my fingernails as the school came into view. Agony-Bishop fit that New England Private School mold to a t. It was an imposing collection of brown brick buildings surrounding a squared-off quad. The main building that held the Headmasters office stood ominously in the center of campus as a kind of monolithic inevitability. The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. As we parked, I felt like I was walking into a movie. But this wasnt School Ties or Dead Poets Society. Being in upstate New York, Agony-Bishop was one of the only New England boarding schools not actually located in New England. The New York stink seemed to scare away the ultra-rich and while the majority of the students were wasps, Bishop was probably the most multi-cultural school in the division. This gave it a reputation among the other private schools as a rough place. Most of these kids parents had money, but their children had either been suspended from, or plain couldnt get into, better schools. My roommate was from Ohio and half a foot shorter than me. But what he lacked in height, he more than made up for in being a cunt. Dense and wiry, Jeff was destined for the wrestling team, something he proved by instantly challenging me to a wrestling match. I declined. As I was unpacking my bags, he saw me secret my prescription pills into my dresser drawer and asked if I was holding out on him. I mumbled something about these not being able to get you high, which seemed to satisfy his curiosity for the moment. When the faculty had us gather on the quad for Orientation, I met the other guys from our dorm. We had what looked to be a grown man living with us. Pat Starkey (from Bas-tan!) was a jacked thirty-year-old in a freshmans body. He had a southie accent and would fight ANYONE. The anyone part was made clear time and time again. As we broke into teams for character building exercises, we were each given an upperclassman to show us the ropes. Our team was led by a nerdy junior named Nelson, but everyone else called him two dads because, well... he had two dads. He walked around campus in his straight-billed CNN cap because some relative or another had worked there. I watched as Pat overheard some cool seniors making fun of Nelson and saw the wheels start to turn in his head. Nelson had us freshmen sit on the grass. As he stood over us, he launched into a monologue about how this would be the last time we would set foot on the quad. He warned us that only seniors were allowed on the quad. Pat snickered. Oh yeah? Whatre you gonna do about it? Nelson seemed unfazed. Me? he laughed. Nothing. But its your own damn fault if you get caught crossing the quad at night. Pat was already locked and loaded. What the fuck did you just say to me?! He was on his feet before anyone could do anything about it. By the time we broke it up, he had sent Nelson and his CNN cap sprawling across the quad. When I asked why he had done that, Pat replied, Ive always hated that kid! Keep in mind wed been at Agony-Bishop for maybe four hours now. As a financial aid student, I was required to work odd days in the cafeteria washing dishes. The first time Jeff saw me in my required hairnet and smock, his lips pulled back from his teeth in unconscious revulsion. He wasnt the only one either. My fellow students, Pat included, loved dumping their half-full dinner plates right in front of me so that the spaghetti sauce or whatever else they ate that night would splash all over me. When I returned to our room that first night, Jeff was waiting for me. He had accidentally come across my pill bottles and done some research on the internet. He told me they were for crazy people and to stay the fuck away from him. I cant be exactly sure when Jeff started beating me, but it always seemed like it was for the most harmless offenses. That fall break I came home with bruises and welts all over my arms. But that was later... The next day classes started. I put on my dead mans clothes and headed over to morning chapel. As I found a spot in the balcony with the other freshmen, I looked out over the rest of the student body. It would take me a couple days to get the whole picture, but it became clear on that first day that this new environment was so extreme for everyone that people naturally split into groups for protection. There were the Koreans, who barely spoke English and formed what could loosely be called a gang. There were the Day Students, who were mostly townies. They talked about paintball way too much, but were good salt of the earth people, the majority of which had been going to Bishop since middle school. There were the Botanists, which my roommate was very much a member of. They spent most weekends doing whatever they could to get kicked out. There were the Jewish students who endlessly quoted Monty Python. There were the Juiceheads who lived in the weight room and usually had coke. There were the insufferable theatre kids, the kids who volunteered to give tours, and dozens more. After the introductory hymn, we sat through Headmaster Smiths chapel talk where he warned us all about Agony-Bishops zero-tolerance drug policy: a puff or a pack, a sip or a six pack and youre out! The Headmaster was replaced by the Chaplain who blessed us and our athletic teams and sent us off to our classes. As we filtered out, Pat marked his territory by cornering day student, Chad Nikola, in the church balcony staircase. You think youre tough?! he demanded, pushing Chad against the wall. I saw in Chads eyes he had no idea what hed done to piss this guy off. But Pat didnt stop until he had Chad close to tears. When he realized he had our attention, Pat was generous enough to share sexually prolific stories from his past. My favorite was the one where he was sharing the only sleeping bag on a camping trip with his friend and this scared bitch wanted to get in, so we said she could as long as she blew us C and she did! I didnt point out that he was sharing a sleeping bag with another man though because I didnt want to be Chad Nikolad. In History Class, my professor had hair growing out of his ears. He delivered a bleak introductory monologue wherein he promised us that if you dont learn from the mistakes of the past you are doomed to repeat them. It was a portent of classes to come. In fact, the only class I seemed to enjoy was Mrs. Reades English Class, where we were supposed to do an entire section on famous short stories. It was probably the placebo effect, but lately I found myself more focused, which was good because Agony-Bishop had something called the Effort System. It was a grading scale from 1-5 (one being the best) that measured how much you were trying, the idea being if you were truly giving it the old college try then your grades would reflect that. These seasonally updated ratings were entirely based on teachers marks and meant the world to every Bishop student because the higher you scored, the more they left you alone. If you did get into the coveted Group One - a feat only five or six kids managed a term - you didnt have to do evening study hall from 7:30-9:30. That meant I could watch T.V. at night! Thus, I became a grade grubber. Through this system though, I discovered that Uncle Kev was right. Not all of Bishops sadists were students. Jim Hofer was 25 or 26, tops. He taught Algebra and made it clear that only people who participated got ones. Now, being fourteen, I couldnt speak an entire sentence without my voice cracking, so I had to pick my volunteering opportunities carefully. The fear of voice cracking was real. If it happened to you, you were teased mercilessly. The teasing happened in steps. There was the immediate laughter, the titters, as I called them, followed immediately by some jokester in the back of the class who would ventriloquist a goose honk which got even more titters (a double titter, if you will. Or a gaggle of guffaws.) When my voice did crack and there were laughs, I would wait a few minutes, quietly excuse myself to the bathroom, then slap myself in the head over and over. When I had sufficiently punished myself enough, I would finally return to class. One night, I was walking back from dishwashing duty completely exhausted. Somehow, I found myself alone in the middle of the quad. I didnt know how I had gotten there but decided to remain calm and keep walking. Then I heard a whistle. And a sing-songy voice trilled, Ohhhhh, freshmannnn! I took off running, but not fast enough. Out of nowhere, I got side-lined by one of the football players. After he tackled me, he popped up and stood over me hooting, youre on my quad, nigger! The air had been knocked out of me, but I still managed to squeak. Im white... The football player wouldnt hear of it though. Youre on my quad, you must be my nigger! When it became clear that I really wanted Group One, Mr. Hofer realized that he could use it to his advantage. Any time I acted out in the slightest he would tell me I was in danger of losing Group One. Like I was a small child being threatened with time out. He even dragged me out into the hallway once for something innocuous and pointed dramatically in my face. You just lost Group One! he said. I dont know how he thought Id react, but if every one of your teachers didnt place you in Group One then, by the law of averages, you didnt end up in Group One. So, I had no incentive to behave after that. I dont think any of the teachers liked me. I once went to Mr. Eccleston, my Earth Science teacher, for extra help, and found Mr. Axelrod, the Spanish teacher, and Mr. Hofer drinking beer at his place. I said, looks like a party! Ya know, like a nerd. Mr. Axelrod took one look at me and growled, the fuck do you want, Benson?! Needless to say, I didnt have many friends. Business associates, sure. But no one Id drive to the airport for. Fortunately, the loneliness left me with plenty of time to write. In English class we read Paul''s Case, the story of a poor kid from a Pennsylvania coal town who spent his nights as an usher at the opera. He would watch the rich come and go in their finery and covet their lives. When his boss gives him the payroll to deposit at the bank one weekend, he never makes it. Instead, he flees to New York City and lives the life he always wanted to live with a suite at the Plaza, room service, and tailored tuxedos. He keeps this up for about a week. And when the money runs out? He throws himself in front of a train. What an ending. I left class wanting to write something as dark as that. But I didnt think my fellow students would understand. These werent creative types. They were busy looking for ways to make as much money as their parents. So, I decided to hide my interests from the rest of the school. With nowhere to go, I began spending all of my time in the library. It was a regal kind of a place, designed with mahogany and green carpet. I sequestered myself in the basement and started work on a new short story that I was tentatively calling Death on an Escalator. It was about a mother in the 1950s who loses her small child when he gets sucked into an escalator at the local department store. I did tons of research so that the period details were accurate. Being in the library helped out a lot. I decided to write on notecards, so it looked like I was making lots of progress. During a break in the process, I found a door Id never been through before that led to the media closet. Most students didnt even know it existed, but there it was with over a thousand movies in it! From that day on, I spent almost every weekend watching obscure French New Wave films or the Criterion Collection -- anything with nudity basically. Eventually, I widened the circle because the pills were killing my sex drive. I gobbled up Best Picture winners, James Bond collections, and feature length documentaries. I would have spent all my free time there, but every day after classes, each student was required to attend some kind of sport for two hours. I chose cross country. I dont know why because I hate running. We were mid-practice when Joey McElligott pantsd me on Route 22. It was a particularly brutal pantsing too: I had no shirt on, we were on a major highway, and he yanked so hard and so unexpectantly that my entire shoe came out of my sweat pants. To get them back on, I had to violently pull the pants over my wet sneakers, while tumbling end over end, completely, buck naked. I decided to run on my own from then on. Chapter Seventeen -- June, 1971 (Stylistics – “You are Everything”) Chapter Seventeen -- June, 1971 Stylistics C You are Everything Sandra didnt so much garden as she did supervise the gardeners. She crouched over her seedlings, eyeing a row of damaged pea pods, as her landscaper explained, You see where this leaf has been nipped off sharply? How theres no rough edges? Sandra nodded. Thats a rabbit, most likely. I thought you said the chicken wire would keep them out? Not if were dealing with rabbits. Rabbits are burrowers. So, we poison the little buggers? You dont want to risk contaminating the plants. Then what can we do? Well, Ill get you some traps and well go from there. Sandra stood, clapping the dirt from off her hands. She snuck a peek at her watch. Oh Lord, Im late! I gotta get ready for my D.A.R. meeting. Are we done here? The gardener had already started putting away her tools. Yeah, Ill look into whats needed and we can put em in come Monday. Sandra hurried inside, followed closely by her youngest. At twelve, Lynn was goonish and dressed in the short pants of a tomboy. She was clutching a massive, twitching jack rabbit twice her size. Can I keep it?! she begged. Sandra turned to see what her daughter was talking about and shrieked aloud. Absolutely not! Get it out! The rabbit bucked furiously against Lynn, trying to get free. But why not?! They let us hold em in 4-H! What do you mean, why not?! Because its not domesticated, Lynn! Get it out! But whyyyyy?! Lynn wailed. It could have rabies! Lynn stomped back out to the yard, mumbling and grumbling the entire way. With her daughter occupied, Sandra lined up a rainbow of pills on the kitchen counter and swept them into her hand. Leaning over to sip from the faucet, she swallowed them all in one go. ** As she dressed for the luncheon, she tried on and discarded several outfits. Each one made her feel fat and caused her to press down on her stomach until she was in a shape that vaguely pleased her. She rolled on her Carlotta stockings and added dress shields to her underarms so no one would see her sweat. She sprayed herself with Shalomar. In the foyer on the way in, she put a McCalls and an Atlantic Monthly out so that shed look well read. A half hour later, Sandras dual Ladies Auxiliary and Daughters of the American Revolution meeting was well under way. Her guests sat at tables covered in champagne linens, eating food off of bone china. They wore chiffon blouses, pastel houndstooth dresses, and kitten heels. Cigarette holders kept their fingernails from stinking. As usual, the business of the day was handled in the first ten minutes, and the rest of the luncheon was spent playing bridge. Sandra discarded two cards. Its just not right, the mans a doctor. I practically raised Bill and Janet on his book and to go ahead and get arrested like that... A woman in cats-eye glasses spoke up. Youre so blas about Vietnam, Sandra C what if your kids were sent there? Thatll never happen. Williams seen to it... Sandra faked a cough and palmed a black beauty. No one was the wiser. She washed it down with the iced tea from her sunflower glass as caterers circled about her with amuse-bouches. The pills she had taken earlier were slowly working their magic. Sandra watched through heavy lids as snatches of conversation ping-ponged around her table: She''s such a drip! I dont understand womens lib. Its not like were slaves... Just imagine the horror of raising a child alone! I dont know how they do it... They were Irish... lace-curtain, but still... A waiter leaned in to offer Sandra a cream cheese and cucumber sandwich, but she waved him off. None for me, thanks. ** After her guests left, Sandra cleaned in full make-up and dress like a woman possessed; Donna Reed, if Donna Reed was hopped up on goofballs. The T.V. played a mid-day soap, though it was currently being drowned out by a Glen Miller record that Sandra had on top volume. Not that you could hear either over the roar of the vacuum cleaner. As she maneuvered around the room, Lynn helped by lifting carpets and pushing ottomans out of the way. Together they were a manic sort of team. The urgency was real. Sandra was on a deadline. William was away most of the week for business, importing-exporting hemp, jute, and sisal. But when he was home, they were usually in the city. She waited patiently all week for Friday to roll around because as far back as she could remember, she truly came alive in the city. It was the site of their first date; a marathon twelve hour one, at the end of which William had proposed under the Penn Station departures board. They still maintained an apartment in the village, a rented brownstone for nights when William was too tired to come home. Sandra waited for the sound of his white wall tires coming up the stone driveway, this clean sound that marked his arrival. Hed come through the door, always just a little drunk, Wall Street Journal tucked under his arm, smelling like English leather. A quick shower and costume change and theyd be on their way. But it wasnt all sunshine and roses. At parties they were close for show. She might give him a little smooch or sit on his lap, but William could be surprisingly cruel. If she said something stupid in front of their friends, hed go out of his way to make her feel dumb. When she started remembering that it was only a matter of time before she fixated on the hysterectomy. She would have wanted more kids, but after Lynn, God seemed to have other plans. So she had stepped up the drinking and the pill-popping - the Dexedrine for cleaning and the Valium for sleep - all in the vain hope that the weekend might get there faster. This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. When William finally showed up, he was drunker than she thought hed be. He insisted that he had to return to the office for a bit, which wasnt a big deal as they usually parked the caddy there anyway before taking a taxi into the city. The shower sobered him up, but not enough to listen to Sandra drone on in the car. She tried to tell him about a recipe she got from Joan Waverly that turned out badly. Sandra said it was just like Joan to leave an ingredient out to embarrass her. At his office in Jersey City, Sandra waited while William called his service for his messages. She was marveling at the pneumatic tubes, when Nirmal stopped by. Nirmal Sethia was a squat Indian man who ran the day-to-day operations for William after he absorbed Nirmals shipping company. It was a good match, Nirmal needed a white face to front the business and William needed a cash injection after the company hed inherited from Sandras father had seen a dip in fortunes. Within the first month they were in the black. Within the first year, they were millionaires. Still, Sandra couldnt stand the man. Mrs. Benson, always so lovely to see you! he sang. Sandra limply offered her hand and Nirmal kissed it. Nirmal... With pleasantries over, Nirmal turned back to her husband. Will, did you call that lead? William shook his head. Its the weekend, hes halfway to the cape by now. Surely, you could-- Itll wait until Monday. William dry-swallowed a couple aspirin and grabbed his coat. Honey, you ready? Sandra nodded. Nirmal looked like he wanted to say something but instead, only bowed. Of course. You two enjoy your evening. Sandra felt better once they were in the taxi where they could talk about their plans. On a typical Friday, theyd grab a drink at Chumleys with friends before catching a show. Or theyd drink at the Hemisphere club or the Russian Tea room if Sandra wanted to spy on famous people. Tonight, they made a quick stop to pick up cash at Chase Manhattan, then met some friends for dinner at Sardis. Steve and Eileen were already sitting at their table when William and Sandra arrived. The couples greeted each other warmly and the waitress came by to take their orders. She was a regular and knew they didnt need menus. Sandra got the heart of palm salad, William the steak tar tar. Sandra barely touched hers, choosing instead to chain smoke. They were halfway through their meals when William spoke between bites. You hear about that girl? What girl? Connerty asked. The one who died-- William turned to his wife, snapping his fingers. What was her name? It was Connerty who filled in the blanks. Oh, Jenny Jampler-- William nodded. --Jenny Jampler, thats right. We heard one of her songs in the car. Voice like an alley cats! Steve and Eileen laughed, which just spurred William on. What happened to music? This Jimmy Hindrecks? Hes twenty-seven and he overdoses on drugs. Ill give you one guess what color his skin is-- Sandra whacked him, laughing. Youre terrible! Connerty brightened. Oh, theyre all on something. What was it? William drained his drink. Sleeping pills, they said. Probably so hopped up he couldnt come down! Sandra leaned in to correct him, Now hun, you know sleeping pills are safe C you just have to take them in the proper fashion. Connerty smirked. You hear that, Will? You got a future rock star on your hands! Sandra blushed as William stared daggers at her. In their second cab of the night, William was beside himself. What the fuck was that, Sandy? he demanded. The driver shot them embarrassed looks in the rearview. Sandra was quiet, her face red. Please dont talk to me like that, William. She dug in her purse for a pill. When she found it, she threw it back with such force she thought she might have bruised her lip. William looked at her with contempt. Feel better now that youre properly medicated? Leave me alone! Just tell em anything, why dont you?! Pretend its therapy! Theyre our friends, they dont care-- Oh, the hell they dont! As William blustered, Sandra let her mind drift. They were on their way to their room at the Savoy. It was the place with the bellhop that always complimented her. She looked forward to seeing him. ** Sandra woke the next day hungover, but well-rested. As William showered, she switched the hotel rooms television on because Tricia Nixon was supposed to be getting married to Edward Cox and she hoped the networks were covering it. She wasnt disappointed. After a late breakfast, William looked up from his paper and seemed to notice for the first time what Sandra was watching. Nixon was onscreen, dancing with his daughter. Hes probably having a hell of a day C the Times just leaked some Pentagon report. Oh, thats no good... Sandra said, not really listening. She watched as Nixon introduced the Ray Conniff Singers in front of a lavish banquet hall. He even threw in a little joke: And if the musics square, its cause I like it square! Sandra laughed. The good nature of the room quickly soured though as the lead singer stepped up to the mic and protested Vietnam and praised Ellsberg and the Berrigans, whoever they were. There was a time and place for political statements, Sandra thought, but someones wedding? It was just uncalled for. A few minutes later, William came out dressed for golf. They both loved the links but never played together because, well, that would be untoward. The two of them headed uptown, where they went their separate ways - Sandra to Bendels with all their boutique extras (hopefully that mincing queer who worked in the scarf section was out sick), William to play handball at the Downtown Athletic Club. Or maybe to slip out to the Playboy Club, if he remembered his key card. He said hed meet back up with Sandra sometime around dinner. ** Saturday night in the city varied with their whims. If they had a reservation they could go to Le Cote Basque or Le Pavillon, both owned by Henri Soule (who they knew, but didnt know-know, you know?). They did wave to him, but then again, maybe he waved to everybody. If they didnt have a reservation, they could always go to La Caravelle which was started by two of the ma?tre dhotels who had left Le Pavillion. It was good enough for the Kennedys who dined there when they were in town (get the chicken in champagne sauce, they told Esquire). Tonight though, William had called ahead and told Sandra to meet him at Tavern. He said hed be bringing some stragglers. Sandra walked in at half past nine, surprised to see Steve and Eileen again. Hey, you two! she said. Twice in one weekend! I know, so unlike us... Eileen said, already flushed with alcohol. William explained, I bumped into Stevie downtown and he said they didnt have dinner plans, so I took pity on them. The more the merrier, Sandra beamed, ushering everyone towards their booth. Within an hour they had eaten and were on their third cocktail. Eileen had gone from pleasantly buzzed to yelling all her responses. Fortunately, the conversation in the restaurant was at a dull roar. Should we get another round? Eileen asked. Sandra readily agreed and raised her hand to flag down a waitress, but William lowered it. I think youve had enough, Sandy. Oh poop, Will C its Saturday! Could you please get a hold of yourself? But Connerty had just started to feel his whiskey-sodas. Nonsense Will, these girls are just sowing their wild oats. Who cares what they do as long as they go home with us, eh?! He gave William a friendly poke in the ribs, but he wasnt having it. Eileen backed her friend up, her words slurring. Yeah Will, give her a break! Lemme tell you something... She leaned in, confidentially. You got such a great wife. I love this woman! She grabbed Sandras arm for balance. She is such a good mother! ** In the cab on their way back from Tavern, William and Sandra went at it. When you told them which pills were okay to take with alcohol, what the hell were you thinking?! They knew I was joking! I didnt! Dont do this, you always do this! You make me feel about this big! Sandra struggled to spread her thumb and pointer. Good, then maybe youll change your behavior! This is like Lake George all over again. When are you gonna let me off the hook, huh?! Im sick and tired of groveling! If thats how you feel, then we might as well go home tonight. I dont care. I dont want to spend one more minute with you! They returned to the Savoy and packed what few things they had. The ride back to Williams office was completely silent. When they got there, neither of them was sober enough to drive. But William got behind the wheel anyway and without a word, drove them the forty-five minutes home, angrily swerving the entire way. Chapter Eighteen -- December, 1999 (Ozzy Osbourne – “Mama, I’m Comin’ Home”) Chapter Eighteen -- December, 1999 Ozzy Osbourne C Mama, Im Comin Home The time between Thanksgiving and Christmas at boarding school was pointless. It was barely two weeks and the only reason we had to come back at all was finals. I tried to study in the dorms, but things with Jeff had gotten even worse. In an effort to avert roommate discord, I called upon a trick I learned from countless television sitcoms. I used masking tape to draw a line down the center of the room so we could both go our separate ways. This, however, turned out to be a strategic mistake as Jeff assumed the rules meant he could come over to my side, but I was not allowed over onto his. If I even accidentally crossed the taped line, he would give me a dead arm. I had successfully cut my dorm room in half. After my last final, I grabbed my bag for winter break and headed into town. I got there just in time to catch the 2:07 Metro North to Grand Central. On the train ride, I started work on a new story. The working title was Remembrances. It was about an elderly man who had no family left and was put in a state-run old folks home. Coincidentally, it was the same building that once upon a time used to be his elementary school. As he wandered the halls, supervised by robot orderlies, he kept having visions of his childhood. Soon it becomes clear that hes lost his mind. That was as far as I got though, because we had just arrived in New York City. It took me quite a while to flag down a cab, seeing as I didnt know there was a line dedicated to just that. By the time I got to Penn Station, I never had to piss so badly in all my life. I entered one of the filthiest bathrooms I have ever seen and went right to the wall of urinals. I noticed a homeless man about ten feet away. I was about to unzip when he turned to me with his dick in his hand as if to say, any takers? I went to the other bank of urinals. Unfortunately, the guy followed me. I decided to just pee quickly as the man settled in three urinals down from me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him start stroking. He was just getting a steady rhythm going when I finished up and dashed out of the room. As I caught my second train of the day, I thought about how low someone would have to fall to do something like that. Still, it felt nice to be wanted. I was in such a hurry to get back for Christmas break that I didnt consider what Id do when it arrived. I had made it through Thanksgiving on my own, but Christmas vacation was a lot longer. If I didnt want to spend it alone, my choices were limited. Nick and Sheila were gone. And hanging out with Dean and his friends wasnt an option. If I didnt want to spend the whole of Christmas fighting with Mom there was only one other place I could go... Uncle Bill and Aunt Beths son, Eddie, worshipped the ground I walked on. And with all my failures lately, I could use a little worshipping. Eddie jumped at the chance to watch a wrestling pay-per-view with me. His mother even volunteered to pay for it. Janet agreed to drive me over there but refused to go inside saying that every time she stepped into that house she had to take a shower immediately afterwards to get the smell of Marlboros out of her hair. Personally, I think she had other reasons for not going inside. From what I could glean from her stories, her relationship with Bill had imploded a long time ago. Bill and Beth were the only people in the family who were poorer than we were. They lived in a forgettable ranch style house on the edge of town. When I arrived, Eddie opened the front door of their house right on cue, as if hed been waiting by the window for me to show up. He was unnaturally pale with permanent five oclock shadow, and was short as well, about 52, the result of being a preemie baby and spending nine months in the liquor cellar that was Beths womb. He never went anywhere without his hoodie. And the poor kid reeked of cigarettes, which wasnt exactly his fault. He also constantly wore a page boy hat, an anachronism that made him look like something off the set of Newsies. He excitedly told me that his mother had ordered us Chinese food and that it would be here within fifteen minutes. As we crossed the living room carpet with its inch of dirt, he asked if I wanted anything to drink. They purchased cigarettes and soda in bulk and he showed me the space in the corner of the dining room where the sodas took up an entire wall. With all the candy and soda, Eddies house was like Pleasure Island from Pinocchio. He lived off a diet designed to soften your teeth and cut years off your life. Eddie showed me his room while we waited for the food to arrive. The kid was just about the most political person I had ever met in my life. The anger he should have pointed at his parents, he instead pointed at trolls on the internet. Currently, he was writing angry letters to Governor Christine Todd Whitman. He happily showed me copies. As I read them, I noticed that everything was black and white with Eddie. When I made an offhand comment insulting the Vanowens, he went off. Who gives a shit if they dont like you?! he said. Theyre the fakest people Ive ever met in my life! All they care about is material possessions! Theyre greedy, selfish people! His style was abrupt, but it was nice to know there was someone out there who could see through their fa?ade. That, or he simply had no filter. I couldnt decide which. When the Chinese food came, we went into the kitchen, passing Uncle Bill who was in the living room, chain-smoking and watching Days of our Lives. Somehow, we were still talking about the Vanowens. Hey Dad, Eddie asked, what do you think of Dean? Without looking up from the television, Uncle Bill responded, Hes an asshole. Always gets me shave of the month club for my birthday. Never used it once. Eddie looked at me, smiling, as if he knew hed get gold out of his fathers response. I laughed. Bill elaborated. Its not the kids fault. His parents are imbeciles. Imbeciles! I repeated, egging him on. My sister was terrified of being alone, terrified of being left behind. So, she married one of the dumbest men Ive ever met just so she wouldnt be alone. There wasnt much to say after that. In the kitchen, Aunt Beth was putting out plates. As I loaded up on sesame chicken and shrimp fried rice, she nostalgically told me about how she used to babysit me when I was younger. She was good and drunk and I could tell Eddie was embarrassed of what she might say. I would take you on walks, Beth recalled, and you would point at the different garage doors at our condo that you wanted to open. Youd say, want that door, want that door! She cackled and placed a hand on my shoulder. I forgot that she was a toucher. Okay Mom, the shows about to start. We gotta go... Eddie thankfully ushered me back into his room, where we ate junk food and drank cavity water for the next four hours. It was a really good pay-per-view and I didnt want to miss a thing, but eventually I couldnt hold my piss any longer. I hurried off to the bathroom, rushing so Id miss as little as possible. Unfortunately, Aunt Beth cornered me on the way back to Eddies room. She started giving me a weird back rub and quietly talking into my ear about my emotional problems. She said that Dean was a good kid but that he wasnt one of us. I had no idea what to say, so I just agreed with her. She continued. Bill hasnt made love to me in years... Oh... thats a shame. I said, squirming. You know, she ventured, if you wanted to kiss right now, I wouldnt tell a soul. Uhhhh... no thanks. Okay well, if you change your mind you know where Ill be... She released me from her grasp, and I hurried back into Eddies room. Dude, where were you? he asked. Please dont leave me alone with your mother again. When the pay-per-view ended and Shawn Michaels had gotten his Championship belt back, it was time to go home. But Aunt Beth wouldnt be Aunt Beth if she didnt try and squeeze one last awkward moment into the night. While Mom waited patiently in the driveway, Beth gave me a long hug goodbye, because in her words: We hug in this family. If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. ** Apart from the backrub, I thought the evening went well. Well enough, certainly, to hang out with Eddie some more. I could deal with light incest if it meant my social calendar would be full. When I learned that his parents would be gone for the weekend, it presented an interesting opportunity. Bill and Beth almost never left their house. Actually, they almost never left the area in front of their television, but here they were visiting Beths sister in Long Island for the weekend. I was only supposed to sleep over and help Eddie watch the house, but when I suggested we invite some people over, Eddie was only too eager to have a party. He had seen them in movies all his life and now he was finally going to have one! It should be noted that up until this point, Eddie was stone cold sober. Given who his parents were, it only made sense. So, when he said he wanted to drink at the party to see what his parents thought was so great about it, I was a little taken aback. Are you sure? I asked. He shrugged. Might as well, Im gonna be in high school next year. I wanted to know how we were supposed to come up with booze for the party, but Eddie didnt seem worried. I know all my Moms hidden liquor spots around the house. Wont she notice? Not really. I pour them out and water them down all the time. She just gets new ones. As a joke we got some Halloween decorations out of the basement and put them up around the house. While we waited for people to come over, we started to drink. Eddie was right, his mother had enough liquor hidden around the house to start a speakeasy. At some point, I found Eddies old toy shotgun and we played out hilarious movie scenarios like bad guy has your daughter and sniper shoots the president. When the laughing subsided, he told me a sad story about how he and his sister once opened presents alone on Christmas day because their parents were still passed out from the night before. He said it like it was a joke, but he didnt laugh. Kids started arriving after that. The one phone call Eddie had made to a classmate had spread around town like a virus and soon there were fifty people milling about his dirty house. I knew that this place had never before seen fifty people in it, nor would it ever again. Even Dean showed up with his friends. I should have figured hed show up given he and Eddie went to the same school. I watched as Deans private school friends milled about with the public school riff-raff. When Hudson saw me, he said loud enough for others to hear, Hey Taylor, you still hanging out with your mother? This got a good solid laugh. Insults are a good way to figure out what people really think of you. Hudson, for instance, seemed to be suggesting that I was a future Norman Bates, something I could not abide. Well, I would have hung out with your Mom, but I only had ten bucks. There were more than a few ooohs! One of those even came from Dean. He had his arm around Layla. They seemed attached at the hip, necking and snuggling against one another. I was busy staring at Layla when I caught sight of a familiar face... It was the first time I had seen Lauren since that disaster of a party months before. I knew she had spotted me too. She made a concerted effort to steer clear, but I circled around and caught up with her in the kitchen. She looked like she wanted to bolt but reluctantly stopped to talk to me. We made small talk. She had heard that I went to Bishop now. I tried to keep things upbeat, but I could tell I had hurt her. She wasnt having any of my conciliatory smiles. And the second I tried to flirt with her, she shut it down. Im nobodys second choice. she said and walked away. I didnt know if she had that line cocked and ready to go, but it still hit just as hard. I was about to go after her when Dean held me back. Just give her some time, he suggested. I reluctantly took his advice. We hadnt spoken in a long time, but slowly found ourselves melting the ice. Dean was as surprised as I was to learn that Eddie had started drinking. Eddie, though, seemed to be having a blast. Put a little vodka in him and he became the life of the party. The toy shotgun we were playing with earlier turned into a smash hit when he remembered that there was a scene in Platoon where they smoke weed out of the barrel of one. Eddie went around the party shooting smoke into peoples mouths. And when he saw how well Eddie and I were getting along, I couldnt help but notice the look of jealousy on Deans face. Christmas was a few days later. But instead of yuletide and good cheer, the topic of conversation at the Vanowens hovered around Dean and an incident that had happened recently with Rob Shandell, a wormy-looking kid from the club who was always keen to pay for beer in an effort to ingratiate himself. Apparently, Dean, Avi, and Hudson had gotten drunk the weekend before and decided to raise hell. The evening ended with them shitting on Robs porch. I laughed when I heard this, but Robs parents didnt find it quite so funny. In fact, they called the police. Now fingers were being pointed and the parents were closing ranks to bury it. Hudsons parents, who barely fraternized with Deans parents, suddenly thought that their child was being brought low by Avi and Dean. This, Lynn could not take. Uck, they act like theyre so holier than thou! She implored Dean to be a good example, the other kids look up to you-- I spit my juice out, laughing. I had to admit though that there was a change in my cousin. Hed lost a great deal of weight since last summer, anxiously trying to keep up with Layla. I asked him what really happened. Youre lucky you got out when you did. he said, confiding in me that Hudson was the mastermind and had even pointed out which one was Robs house. I couldnt believe it. Dean had sworn up and down to his mother that he had nothing to do with shitting on Robs porch. I was beginning to realize that he had no morals to speak of, that he was willing to sell out anything and anyone to get out of the spotlight. When we finally got around to opening presents, Mom gave me a weekly pill box so I could be sure to take my meds regularly. From then on, whenever shed see it, Mom would say, Someone wonderful must have gotten that for you! She also got me a guide to film schools, which sounds like the most niche book ever, but it exists. I spent the rest of the evening dreaming about my future. When it got dark out, I borrowed Deans CD player and took a walk around the Vanowens neighborhood. As I looked at the two to three million dollar mini-mansions, it began to snow. I peered into rich peoples homes as they celebrated the last hours of Christmas together. They seemed calmer. More at peace... Or did they have the same problems my family had? I could feel my time with Eddie was starting to change the way I viewed things. Most of my family were just patiently waiting for their inheritance. But when they got it, they would look just like these people here. I desperately wanted to make something of myself but was starting to realize that money made you lose that hunger. I needed to keep that fire alive, whatever it took. Because as far as I could tell, that was me living. When I returned to the Vanowens house, Uncle Kev was sitting by the fireplace smoking a cigar, Christmas being one of the rare times he was allowed to smoke indoors. He had that sweater over collared shirt look that all wealthy people wear at some point. It made him appear cozy and self-satisfied. I guess Dean had told him about all the time I had been spending at Eddies house lately, because he waved me over to come talk to him. This must have been Nannies seventieth birthday party, he began, getting comfortable in his designated armchair. She wanted all her kids there and naturally Bill didnt show up. So, I was sent to go get him. I listened warily as Kev continued, I heard screaming before I even got to their condo. The door was open. I announced myself but it was like Bill and Beth couldnt even see me. They just kept yelling at each other, more shit-faced than I had ever seen them. I found Eddie cowering under the dining room table. What did you do? I asked. I brought him to dinner with me. But he wouldnt eat. He was too... Kev trailed off. Taylor, the boys too fucked up to do anything for. Hes too far gone. The things hes seen... I felt incredulous. Doesnt that make you want to help him? Kevin smiled at me, sadly. Youre a good kid - you know that, Taylor? He got up to refill his glass and I watched him go. He likes arguing with you, Lynn said, smiling. He told me that once. Her cheeks were warm from all the chardonnay. I wanted to point out that we hadnt been arguing, but she seemed genuinely happy to share this with me. Later, after she had put in time with her family, Layla stopped by to give Dean his Christmas present. Being the bigger man, I decided to say hi to her. She in turn pretended like I hadnt even spoken. She stuck around into the night, much to Aunt Lynns delight. My Aunt had taken a real shine to the girl. When I finally saw the resemblance between the two of them, I almost laughed. After Lynn heard that Layla and Dean had decided to only date each other, she beamed with delight. Youre going steady! she cooed. Dean turned all kinds of red, hissing Mom! But Lynn ignored him. By this point, Uncle Kev had a hell of a buzz going. Well, if youre gonna be spending so much time with my son, then I should probably tell you that were Jewish. Dean wasnt sure he heard what he heard. What? Were Jewish. My grandmother was Jewish... its my mothers side, so were Jewish. Dean looked at Layla. Hes joking... Kady seemed shocked. Mom, did you know about this? Lynn nodded. Tom-tom took me aside before I married your father. It was a different time, Kevin cut in. He wanted to give her an out. Back then it meant something to a certain class of people. Dean was sitting up now, trying to get a handle on the situation. Dad, why would you say that in front of Layla? Oh, come on Deanie, shes a great girl! I know she doesnt care about this! We never saw Layla again. Soon after, she invented some grievance with Dean and broke up with him. Some bullshit about how honesty was really important to her... The days after Christmas were bleak for my cousin. Through the grapevine he learned that Layla had started dating Hudson. One-by-one his friends turned on him, claiming he was the mastermind of the porch-shitting incident. Dean spent the rest of winter break not speaking to his father. In early January, he escalated a fight with Kev until he was ruthlessly punching him in the arm, over and over again. Kev just turned and took the shots until he could safely wrap his son in a bear hug. I watched them standing there, holding each other, Dean crying and Kevin recovering, thinking: So, this is what its like having a father. Chapter Nineteen -- November, 1972 (The Main Ingredient – “Everybody plays the Fool”) Chapter Nineteen -- November, 1972 The Main Ingredient C Everybody plays the Fool On a cold and sunny late afternoon, there was a knock on the Bensons front door. Janet opened it to find a young man with a patchy beard in a dusty, field jacket. Hi, are the Bensons here? he asked. I used to make it with their daughter. When Janet realized who it was, she threw her arms around Matt Learner. Oh my God, youre here! When did you get in?! she said, finally letting him up for air. Last night-- he began, but Janet punched him in the arm. And you didnt come right over?! It was four in the morning, you psycho! Matt rubbed his bruised bicep, smiling. I was awake! Why does that not surprise me? Janet looked around the neighborhood, suspiciously. You better get inside. The others will want to see you. ** A half-hour later, Matt was safely ensconced in the basement of Janets house. He sat in the middle of the couch surrounded by old friends. Maggie leaned in to feel his pecks. Hes skinnier, I think... She asked him, directly. Are you skinnier? Matt smiled. They run us a lot. Cody was on his other side. They dont feed you over there? Oh, they feed us, just not really the kind of food you want to eat-- Janet swatted them away. Give him some room. He just got back! Sitting on the floor, J.B. tore his eyes away from the returns coming in for the 72 election. Its good to have you back, man. Place hasnt been the same without you. Matt nodded. Thanks, pal. On the T.V. screen in front of them, Tom Pettit was reporting: ...early state losses do not bode well for McGovern who ran on a platform of stopping the bombing in Southeast Asia and bringing an end to the war. His message was expected to carry extra weight as the Senator served as a pilot in World War Two and saw first-hand the effects long-term bombing can have on a country and its people... J.B. pointed to the screen, as if Matt had asked. No question the bungling of the running mate cost him. I mean no ones gonna vote for a head case, but I at least thought Shriver would bring some of that Kennedy fairy dust to the campaign... The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. Across the room by the bumper pool table, Glen Tonche watched the attention Matt was getting. It didnt sit right with him. He didnt understand why it was such a big deal that Matt went off to war. He could have done the same, he just didnt. J.B. went on and on to Matt. He can still pull this one out. No one can be this ignorant. Kissinger can say peace is at hand all he wants but were still bombing Cambodia! I tell you Mattie, I am so goddamn ashamed of this country sometimes... Matt shrugged. Dont hate it on my account... What do you mean? J.B., I dont need you to stop the war. Oh, so everythings just hunky dory over there?! Matt thought about it. I mean, the guns they make us use, theyre no good in the jungle. They jam up. Got to the point where were taking AKs off of dead bodies we find. Glen laughed, inadvertently. Dead bodies? You mean youve been killing people over there?! He glanced about the room, looking for a sympathetic face, but found none. Matt stared him down; a humorless, thousand-yard stare. What a stupid thing to say. The conversations in the room petered off. Everyone waited to hear what Glen would say. He took in their judgmental faces and responded in kind. Whatever you say, baby killer... Matt smiled. He was on his feet before anyone else noticed, wrapping his dominant hand around Glens throat. He slammed him hard against the wall as the girls screamed. Glen sputtered, unable to breathe. It took Bill and J.B. working together to tear Matt off of him. Once Glen was free, he lunged for Matt, screaming, How dare you put your fucking hands on me! No one puts their hands on me! Do you even know who my father is?! Matt was manic. No, but neither does your mother-- If possible, Glens face went redder than before. He frothed at the mouth, trying to find the right words before suddenly blurting, Oh yeah?! Well, while you were gone - I fucked your girlfriend on the hood of my car! Janets eyes went wide. The room went cold. She looked from Glen to Matt, her face betraying her. Matt said nothing, no one did. They were dumbfounded. Finally, Janets ex headed out the back door. The second Matt was gone, Janet wheeled around and pelted Glen Tonche, over and over again. He took it, wincing. How could you?! she screamed, until it hurt to punch him anymore. She ran out after Matt. The rest of them were left to pick up the pieces of the room. No one knew what else to do. With the tables and chairs righted, J.B. slowly revolved back around to face the television. Walter Cronkite had cut into the previous reporters breakdown. With the lowest reported voter turnout since 1948, a little over half of the possible electorate voting, CBS Evening News is ready to call the 1972 Presidential Election a landslide victory for President Richard Nixon-- J.B. sank onto the couch, his mouth slack. Its the entire fucking country. I dont understand. I knew he would take California, but... how could anyone vote for him? ** Matt had reached the front yard by the time Janet caught up with him. She was breathless. Mattie, you cant listen to what Glen says, hes an idiot-- He shook her off. It doesnt matter. Yes, it matters to me. Im sorry you had to hear it like that-- But before Janet could get into her explanation, Matt spun around on her. No, you dont understand, Janet. Im re-upping... She stared at him, not comprehending. Youre... what? Jan, you know me. I didnt have any brothers or sisters growing up. Those guys over there? Thats my family. Janet had sudden, hot tears in her eyes. I thought we were your family... He shook his head as he walked away. Not anymore. Chapter Twenty -- March, 2000 (Pearl Jam – “Better Man”) Chapter Twenty -- March, 2000 Pearl Jam C Better Man After everything that happened at Christmas, I wasnt about to spend spring break at home. When Mom suggested I visit Aunt Sheila in Florida though, I knew I had my out. I flew into Ft. Myers because Naples didnt have an airport. The terminal was nautically themed with a massive whale exhibit hanging from the ceiling. I waited under it for Sheila to come pick me up. I saw her before she saw me. She was scanning the crowd for my arrival. I watched as she psyched herself up. When she finally laid eyes on me, she managed a warm smile. I gave her a big hug. It was great to see her again. She seemed better than when Id seen her last; more grounded, more settled. We got into Sheilas gold, Chrysler Sebring convertible. Before we got on the highway, she made sure to put the top down and we drove back to her place with the wind whipping our hair. The first thing I noticed was that her house looked like the Golden Girls house, all pastel and wicker and steeped in palm fronds. The air conditioning was going at all times, just in case the pool in the backyard didnt do it for you. I was surprised to learn that Sheila had a roommate, a friend of her and Nicks from back in Jersey named Ron. He had a shiny bald head with an amiable walrus moustache. To me, he kind of looked like an accountant. On my first day there, Sheila took me to a country fair; a real podunk, carnie-filled kind of place. While I went on the rides, she stood around awkwardly waiting for me to finish. It was clear she really didnt know what to do with me. Fortunately, she was at work most of the day. I tried to do Florida right, but once I got sunburned, I stayed inside. Sheila had had her big screen T.V. shipped down with all her other belongings, so I spent hours in front of it. It was good to get a piece of my old life back. But not everything was the same. One morning, I was standing in the kitchen when Sheila started making out with her roommate. And not just making out, giggling too, like some kind of giddy teenager. The two of them seemed to have extra arms as they pawed at each other. Surely there were better ways of broaching that shed moved on. From then on, Ron went out of his way to be nice to me. When I found the Gershwin-soundtrack to Manhattan and played it on Sheilas stereo, Ron made sure to compliment my sophisticated musical tastes. I felt like a ten-year old whose new stepdad wanted to throw the pigskin around. I reacted by renting dozens of movies. Sheila could afford it. Besides, I was behind in my studies: there were still foreign films to sit through, sci-fi classics to try to understand, and I still hadnt watched a single Chaplin. At night when Sheila got off work, all three of us would have dinner out somewhere. These became difficult to sit through because in the retirement capital of the world, I was usually the only teenager in the restaurant. I guess I was being annoying because when I made the mistake of telling Sheila that I needed to be back at her house at a certain time to watch a movie on cable, she flipped out on me. Taylor, going out to dinner is supposed to be a treat! It was a treat, but we ate and now its time to go... We are not on your personal timetable. We are here for some quality time-- You cant force good times! You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. A passing waiter slid the bill onto the table. I grabbed it and handed it to Sheilas roommate. Here you go, Ron C you got this? An embarrassed, bewildered look came over the mans face, but he was stopped from answering by Sheila. She bellowed, Outside now! I stood and without a word, led the way out of the restaurant. I was only a few steps out of the front door when she grabbed my arm. You are acting like a spoiled brat! I spun around to face her. How can you go from Nick to that-that fucking nerd! No one is replacing Nick! But you are taking advantage of my hospitality! I couldnt believe what I was hearing. I knew I wasnt perfect, but how did this get turned around on me? I wasnt the one who moved on with some mustachioed dweeb! But I sure was being punished for it. On some level, I think I knew she was pushing me away. Still, if this was what she needed to heal, then of course I would leave. The next morning, I told Sheila I wanted to go home early. She looked at me sadly, like she might object, but ultimately agreed. I think that no matter what she was going to say, she knew itd be less complicated with me back at home. I got on the plane, my skin peeling, feeling raw in more ways than one. If this was how she acted around me, I truly doubted that she wanted a child of her own. Last year I had lost an Uncle, it just took this long to lose the Aunt too. I flew home, wondering what might have been if I was allowed to grow up in Summit with three parents. I fell asleep shortly before we landed and dreamt vividly. I was in Sheila and Nicks old house, but it had been remodeled, a strange mix of their old dcor and Sheilas new house in Naples. When I knocked upon the front door a woman that looked like Sheila answered but she didnt seem to recognize me. She asked who I was. I gave some flimsy explanation and suddenly she was gone. I was left to explore the house alone. It was dark and there were sheets and dust covers on everything, like I had arrived in the off-season by mistake. No one lived there and if I thought I did, then I was mistaken. When I landed, Mom picked me up. She was on her way to dinner at the Vanowens. It was the last place I wanted to be, but showing up out of the blue, I really didnt have any other options. When we got there, naturally there were some questions. Why was I back so soon? Who was this guy living with Aunt Sheila? His names Ron Payer. I told them. Uncle Kev turned to Lynn. Yeah, we know Ron, dont we? Man, I could tell you some stories about him... guys main goal was meeting some rich bitch to show him the good life. Lynn looked at him sternly, so he added defensively, His words. Well, it just goes to show you, Lynn ventured, shes getting exactly what she asked for. Its a self-fulfilling prophecy. She spent so many years enabling Nicky, this is just more of the same! Lynn, how could you say that? Mom asked. Is it not true? He was lazy and childish and needed to grow up. You know, I went to school with her, Kevin interjected. You did not want the bottle to land on her during spin the bottle. His kids laughed at that, then decided to jump on the bandwagon. Kady shared, she always gives us savings bonds for our birthday, even when we ask for cash! Ollie joined in. Yeah! And then the moment Uncle Nick died, she stopped! Kevin finished his drink and rose to get another. Eh, shes full of herself. Thinks everyones obsessed with her money. I nodded to myself. I guess this time she was right... As we got into our car to go home, Mom said, That was really sweet of them. What was? I had no idea what she was talking about. Did you not realize they were defending you in there? By talking shit about Sheila? Janet nodded. They saw your heart was broken and decided to stick up for you. She climbed into the drivers seat as I looked back at the Vanowen house. I wondered if that could possibly be true... On the last day of spring break, I met with Dr. Nance, the British psychiatrist who prescribed my meds. She added Bupropion to my cocktail of drugs. When I returned to school, I found it hard to sleep and had exponentially more headaches. I lost interest in everything. I stopped caring about grades, I stopped talking to people altogether. I spent my time writing sad, little stories in the basement of the library. I started work on my magnum opus, Rube C an epic tale of runaway teens, highway rest stop pedophiles, and traveling carnies. In the climax, the evil cult leader gets bitten by a rabid raccoon and foams at the mouth as his teenage followers try to escape from his farm. One afternoon, during my research into hick culture, I passed a wall in the library basement covered in old class photos. There, two frames down and to the left, I saw a picture of Uncle Nick and his dorm mates. The picture was dated 1973. The year a fire destroyed one of the buildings on campus... Chapter Twenty-One -- March, 1973 (Big Star – “The Ballad of El Goodo”) Chapter Twenty-One -- March, 1973 Big Star C The Ballad of El Goodo In the steam-filled, second-floor bathroom of the largest dorm on campus, Nick Benson smoked a joint with his friend, Marco. They had turned the showers on to disperse the smoke and mix it with the steam. It made sense when they were high. Nick brought the number up to his peach fuzz lips and took a hit. Leaning back against the yellow tile, he began to exhale slowly when he suddenly heard Mr. McCaffrey, their dorm parent, going around doing surprise bunk inspections-- Shit, its McCaffrey! Nick said, coughing. Whats he doing here, its the weekend! Doesnt he have a life?! Marco pointed to the roach, still in Nicks hand. Get rid of it! Without thinking, Nick tossed the remains down the laundry chute and joined Marco in running out of the bathroom. What are you crazy?! Marco yelled over his shoulder. You said get rid of it! I meant flush it down the toilet! Somewhere in the bowels of the building, a lit marijuana cigarette landed in an industrial laundry hamper and started the Agony-Bishop fire of 73. ** The next day, Nick sat alone on a bench outside the Headmasters office. He stared blankly at the regal, blue carpet until his father emerged. William didnt look happy. He sat down, wearily, next to his son. I cant do this again, Nicky. It took everything I had for them not to kick you out. As it stands, I gotta pay for an entire new wing to this building and dedicate another just to get you to stay. I dont wanna be here anymore. Nick muttered. William sighed, frustrated. Well, were running out of options, kid. Youve been kicked out of everywhere else... I know. Nick said, refusing to meet his fathers eye. They say you excel in art class. Is this about the reading? Youre not dumb, you know. A lot of people mix the letters up. Nick kneaded the floor in front of him with his shoes. Sometimes I feel like my brain doesnt work right... His father leaned in. We could get you a tutor. But the boy just shook his head. It wouldnt matter. By the time Ive caught up theyre already on to the next lesson. Then what are we going do? William asked. Nick shrugged. In the end, they sent him to public school, where he could fall through the cracks. ** Two weeks later, Nick walked out of Summit High as the end of school bell rang. He was surrounded by his usual crowd of female admirers. He said his goodbyes to them and was just about to start walking home when he heard a car horn. Nick turned to see his brothers friend, Cody, leaning on his bright red, hot rod. Nicks face lit up. Whatre you doing here?! he asked. Cody suppressed a smile. Eh, you know, all my friends are off at college, so I thought Id see what you were doing. Cool. You wanna go for a ride? Nick looked at the car. In this?! Fuck yeah! Well, its not the lunar rover, but itll do... Nick threw his books in the back and hopped in. Bitchin! Now I wont miss Bandstand! Cody pulled out of the parking lot, leaving a cloud of burned rubber in his wake. He made the ten-minute drive to his house in just under three minutes. The roaring engine could be heard for blocks around. Swinging the wheel, he clipped the curb on his way into the driveway, but didnt seem to care. He threw the parking brake on and climbed out of the car, leading Nick up the walk towards his three floor, pale blue gable-front home. They entered the kitchen, deep in conversation. Cody explained, Its called Midnight Cowboy and apparently the guys in it have sex with each other-- Nick laughed. How would that even work?! Cody shook his head, shrugging. He headed for the fridge, digging for snacks. Whatre you guys doing? The question came from Sheila, Codys little sister. She was a snaggle-toothed misfit who walked around under a depressed cloud. Even though she was overweight, she was quiet as the wind, having snuck up on the both of them. Cody swatted her away. Nothing! Get out of here! Nick laughed and jumped on the bandwagon. Yeah, get out of here, doo-doo face! Cody cackled. He loved the novelty of someone else putting his annoying sister in her place. Sheila gave Nick a once over before fading out of the room. Cody pulled a plate of cookies from the fridge and put one in his mouth, talking around it. Here, theres something I want you to see, he said, motioning for Nick to follow him. In his fathers home office, Cody opened the door tentatively to make sure the coast was clear. When he saw that it was, he made his way over to his fathers desk. Nick followed after, unsure. The office was neat and sterile, no place for kids. From one of the bookshelves, Cody pulled a dusky, beige hardcover. Nick saw the cover only briefly: The Joy of Sex. Cody flipped through the pages, explaining This was just published. Have you heard of it? Nick shook his head. He took in the writhing illustrations, breathlessly. As he stared at the naked bodies with their generous amounts of pubic hair, Cody pointed at one of the couples. That ones my favorite. Nick nodded. After a minute or two, Cody returned the book to the shelf. He crossed back to his fathers desk. Under the day planner was a key. He fished it out and headed over to a nearby mahogany bureau. I call this the Cabinet of Wonders. Cody said. He opened it and stepped back to give Nick the full view. There was row upon row of glass tanks filled to the brim with pills... Like a candy shop... How? Was all Nick could get out. My dads a surgeon. Cody shared, proudly. Its the most beautiful thing Ive ever seen in my life. Nicks eyes were moist. You sure your dads not gonna come in? No chance. My parents are never home. Well... Cody said, waiting. Take your pick. Nick reached for a bottle of bright yellow ones, but Cody stopped him. No, thats Nembutal. Those are yellow jackets. You dont want that. Thatll make you fall asleep. Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. Then help me out... Nick said, unable to choose. Cody pointed. Those are goofballs, they killed Marilyn Monroe. Thats Darvon, Halcion, couple Midnight Runners there... How about these? Nick pointed to another jar, one row down. Much better! Those are Seconals - you know, red devils? Cody lifted the glass lid and took a handful. A half hour later, the two of them laid sprawled out, immobile on the couch. Their jaws were slack, their breathing chemically slowed. They looked around the living room, blankly. After a moment of doing nothing, Cody said, I think Im starting to feel it. Nick tried to nod but just ended up drooling. On the T.V. in front of them, a movie of the week played. It was a repeat, The Failing of Raymond. The boys watched as Dean Stockwell went up behind his teacher, Jane Wyman, and began to strangle her with a rope. At the mere sight of this, Cody and Nick exploded into laughter. They had never seen anything so funny in all their life. They laughed until they were red in the face, braying like donkeys. By the time the sun set, they were asleep on the couch, the T.V. blaring. Sheila peeked her head into the room and saw them snoring away. Creeping in, she turned the television off and was about to leave when she looked back one more time at Nick. She took a blanket from off the back of the couch and tucked him in for the night. ** The trick to avoiding the Truant Officer when you were cutting class was to stick to the side streets. A kid walking alone drew too much attention, so it was best to dart from bush to bush. Nick was supposed to meet Codys connection today. He had been given specific instructions to rendezvous with Cody at the library and they would go on together from there. But when Nick arrived, Cody wasnt waiting outside. Nick was hesitant to enter; these places always had some kind of school function going on. What better way to get caught? Still, without Cody there would be no connection, and without a connection there would be no drugs. Screwing up his courage, Nick walked inside. He realized with some surprise that he had never been in a library before. It wasnt the dusty palace of boredom he was expecting. Instead, it was architecturally modern and newly renovated. Everything was beige and the air was still. He found Cody standing to the side watching one of the librarians sing a song to a kindergarten class. Hey! You said outside! Nick whispered. Cody waved him off. Eh, I knew youd find me. Well, lets go. Theyre having standardized tests today. Im not exactly allowed to be out and about. Go where? Were here. What do you mean were here? Cody pointed. Thats Travis. The librarian?! Nick looked at the man. He was clearly a hippie; a thirty-eight-year old with a beaten-up, train conductors hat sitting atop his frizzled, Roger Daltry hair. When he saw Cody, he waved and passed his tan acoustic guitar off to an older librarian, who had been sitting listening with the kids. Travis hurried over to Cody and Nick. Cody, my man! he greeted him, quietly. Travis, this is my buddy, Nick. Cody said. Travis clasped Nicks hand. Right on, right on! he said. Any friend of Codys is a friend of mine. He held the handshake for a little longer than normal, staring at Nick as if he were a snack. When Travis finally spoke again, it was as if nothing amiss had happened. He clapped Cody on the back. Man, this guy knows everything about space! What was that thing you were telling me? About the oxygen tank exploding? Yeah, they had to use the moons gravity as a sling shot to get those astronauts home. Fuckin far out, man. Travis stared off into nothingness. When he didnt speak for a few moments, Nick and Cody exchanged puzzled looks. Eventually, Cody pierced the quiet: So, you got the thing? Oh yeah! Travis blurted, whacking his forehead with an exaggerated thwap. He pulled a bottle with a stopper in it out of his overalls pocket and handed it to them, very out in the open. Cody quickly pocketed the thing. Whatre you crazy?! Someone could see! Travis shrugged. Act like you have a secret and people will think you have a secret. Cody nodded and followed the advice. He handed his dealer a wad of cash. Travis blanched, What are you nuts?! Handing me money is incriminating as hell! Shit! Sorry! Well just go. Well hey, wait a minute-- he grabbed Codys arm before they could get far. Take it easy with that stuff. Its top shelf - just a dropll do ya. Its blotter acid, its not like the tabs. Thanks for the warning. You got it. Now get someplace safe. ** With both their houses occupied, Cody and Nick headed into the woods. Their town bordered Watchung Reservation and Nick knew of a clearing where they wouldnt be seen. When they got there, the boys took turns taking pulls off the bottle until it was empty. Then they sat down on a fallen log to wait it out. They didnt have to wait long. It came on quick, barely half an hour. And it was good too. Nick tried to relay a story about his brother and this stuff, but he kept forgetting his place and eventually gave up. There was a thin layer of sweat on his upper lip and forehead and he wished he had brought something to drink. Because it was unseasonably warm. Especially in New Jersey, where winters usually lasted until May. May.... May. May was a weird word. And if you kept saying it, you kinda forgot what it meant. Man, he could have really used some water. He wanted to ask Cody if he had any, but Cody was busy making snow angels in the dirt. Nick saw a toad. A big, bumpy one with shades of purple and green. It looked wet enough. He had heard that if you licked a toad it got you high. He wouldnt connect the strep-like infection hed get a few days later to this incident. No, he most certainly would not. But he licked it anyway. It did nothing for his thirst unfortunately and he didnt feel any different. If he was being completely honest, he felt a little crappy. Cody, lets go get something to drink at 7-11. But Cody was busy vomiting. Nick stood. Its okay, Ill come back for you. He left his friend and began the long walk into town. Walking was really tough if you focused solely on the mechanics of it. Nick got lost several times on his way out of the woods, doubling back each time to find the trail again. It was an elusive trail. It liked to hide from him. He even stopped to vomit himself, which he heard was good when you were on acid. Or was that mushrooms? Hed ask Cody later. It took the better part of an hour to find 7-11. As it came into focus, the familiar green and red of the logo seemed to Nick for the first time as unseasonably festive. Of course, there was a small hiccup when Nick remembered that he didnt have any money. Hed given the rest of his to Cody. After weighing the pros and cons, Nick decided that stealing would be alright. That God would be okay with it. And if he was going to steal, he might as well steal a lot... It was hard to focus on the words written on the drinks. Nicks eyes kept rolling back into his head. When he did manage to look straight ahead, he noticed that the shop owner seemed to be following him. Instead of dealing with the situation directly, Nick decided to turn his back on the man. That seemed to do the trick. When he had finally gathered the soda and snacks he wanted based on their vague shape alone, he made a run for it. It would have been much more dramatic, but the door was a pull, not a push. He ricocheted off the glass and clattered to the floor. Somehow, he only managed to lose half his stash in the process. Getting to his feet, he pulled the door open. When he got clear of the exit, he ran like a man possessed, losing Ho-Hos and Little Debbies down suburban streets he kind of, sort of, remembered. Convinced he was in the clear, Nick hid behind a bush and vomited some more. He drank a little soda and was beginning to think he was too high when the Truant Officer pulled up. Where do you go to school? he asked. Nick left his food bounty behind the bush, just in case the guy might think he stole it or something. He swallowed hard and somehow managed to speak. Summit High. Dont you boys have testing today? Nick was thinking about running, when the Truant Officer said, Dont do it. Dont do what? Nick asked. Dont run. You just said you were thinking about running. I did?! The Truant Officer ran his hands over his hungover face. Man, just get in the fucking bus. Unable to think of an alternative, Nick finally obliged. ** Wearing a shit-eating grin, Nicks Principal told him what great timing he had. Nick was returned to school with mere seconds to go before the KAPTAs or the COMAs - or whatever the tests were called - were set to begin. The Principal dropped him off in the blue-tiled cafeteria with the other students. Nick was given a test booklet he had to rip open to begin. He turned to the first page where a very solemn Native American stared back at him. The section was about reading comprehension, which he might have understood but the words were doing that thing they did back in the 7-11. You can do it, said a voice. Nick looked around. No one had spoken. He kept darting his head around, listening for sounds coming from the walls. Down here, said the voice. Nick looked down as instructed and found that the Indian (or were they not supposed to call them that anymore?) was talking to him. Nick gulped. Are you my spirit guide? The Indian considered him for a few moments. Sure. Look, I know youre high, Nick. Everyone else knows it too. Nick snuck a peek at the girl next to him who was busy staring at him, mouth agape. Nick slowly put his hand up to block her out. He returned his focus to the Indian, who continued: Theres only one way to beat em, Nick... Whats that? he asked, genuinely curious. You gotta ace this test. Oh, easy... Its okay, Ill help you. Now, look at the first question. Nick focused really hard and was able to make the letters stand still. The question read: Which of these will ruin your life?
  • a.) Papoose
  • b.) You are way too high
  • c.) Is that girl still looking at me?
  • d.) Maize
He thought as hard as he could until he realized that it was a trick question. You were supposed to add an answer of your own! Its so simple! He blurted aloud to multiple shushes. When he vomited again, he managed to trap most of it in his standardized test. Leaving it on his desk, he excused himself to the bathroom. ** He woke up several hours later in Codys living room, spread eagle on the couch. He had no idea how hed gotten there but was grateful he wasnt in school anymore. From the look of the setting sun, several hours had passed. Oh, youre awake. Sheila said, entering the room. How did I get here? he asked. You must have been tired. You were sleeping on the porch when I came home from school. I let you in, dont you remember? Not really. He said, propping himself up on his elbows. Sheila tucked some hair behind her ear. Are you hungry? Do you want me to make you something? Nick thought about how empty his stomach was. Okay yeah, I havent eaten since breakfast, he said, rising. Whattaya got? Sheila smiled and led him into the kitchen. Chapter Twenty-Two -- Thanksgiving, 1973 (Python Lee Jackson – “In a Broken Dream”) Chapter Twenty-Two -- Thanksgiving, 1973 Python Lee Jackson C In a Broken Dream Sandra cried in her bedroom. She had the time because the turkey was in the oven and everything else was already prepared. She got this way sometimes when big tasks were finished and she was bowled over with thoughts of whats next? She did it alone because it was no ones business but her own. Walking by her open door, Bill saw his mother racked with sobs. He knocked and waited a moment for her to compose herself before he entered. You okay? he asked. Fine and dandy, she said, standing quickly and fixing her eye makeup. Bill wasnt convinced. Do you need to take a pill? No really, Im okay. She gave a quick once over at what her son was wearing. Youre going to put on a tie, right? Hadnt thought about it... Please, okay? I want today to be special. All my ties are at school. Then borrow one of your fathers. You know how he is about his ties... Sandra rubbed her temples, thinking of solutions. Your Sunday school outfit is still in the dry-cleaning bag in your closet. But thats a clip-on and it doesnt even-- --Can you just do this for me?! Sandra broke in, hysterically. Bill finally nodded. ** Janet arrived soon after. And she wasnt alone. She was in the company of an older man. He had invasive eyes, a distinguished beard, and wore a tweed jacket over a black turtleneck. Bill ran into the two of them at the base of the stairs. You brought someone to thanksgiving dinner?! You cant bring someone, Im bringing someone! Not a competition, Bill. Janet said, laughing. As Janet and her date hung up their coats, Bill noticed a set of fingermark bruises on his sisters arm. He turned his attention to Janets plus-one. Whos this? he asked. The new guy had dandruff on his shoulders. He extended a hand. Arthur. You must be the older brother, Bill. Bill let the mans hand hang there. Eventually, he left the room altogether. Arthur turned back to Janet. Hes charming. Catching sight of the bar cart, Arthur left to get a drink. Janet watched him go then entered the kitchen to see if there was anything she could help with. But her mother dismissed her, saying Everythings taken care of... Janet watched as she flitted about putting final touches on everything. Her mother had never been so trim, having successfully executed a radical diet in the run up to Thanksgiving in anticipation of seeing her own mother. Nothing was ever good enough for Grandma Jean. Janets baby sister was sitting on one of the kitchen counters wearing an apron. In an effort to look like shed been helping Lynn had put a couple dabs of flour on her cheeks. Why is your boyfriend dads age? Lynn asked. He is not! Janet insisted. Their mother was ping-ponging around the room so often that Lynn asked Janet quietly, why is Mom so jumpy? Janet leaned in. Grandma and Grandpa are coming for dinner. So? So, its complicated, Lynn. No, its not C you just set two extra place settings! I meant they dont get along. But why? Theyre grandma and grandpa... To you maybe. To Mom and Dad, its different. Grandpa was against them getting married. He was? Why? Do you know what the social register was? Yeah, Lynn nodded, clearly lying. No, you dont! It was a list of the richest people in the country, what everyone calls high society, and if you married someone that wasnt on it then you were taken off. So, daddy was poor? We say he came from nothing. But when Grandpa realized Mom was going through with the marriage and that he couldnt stop it, he decided to step down from the family business and let Dad run it. That was nice of him. It was. But now hes mad that it became more successful than when he ran it. Okay, but thats all about Dad. Whys Mom nervous? Because grandma thinks that nothing Mom does is ever good enough. Why? Dont worry about it... Tell me! Youre too young. Im practically a grown up, you stupid idiot! Fine, you really want to know? Lynn nodded, vigorously. Janet looked up briefly to make sure her mother couldnt hear them. You remember how Nannie had a baby brother growing up? Lynn thought about it. The one who got drowned in the tub? Janet nodded. Mom was the one running the bath for him when he fell. Lynn twisted around to look at her mother. Thats terrible... she whispered. Janet continued, her voice lowered. It wasnt her fault. She was six. She was still hungry from dinner and snuck into the kitchen to get some food from the fridge. She was barely gone for a minute, but thats all it took-- Were starting! Sandra called out all of a sudden. Everyone bring stuff to the table! Out in the den, William had fallen asleep watching Huntley-Brinkley. He found himself knee deep in an erotic nightmare about Jane Fonda having an orgy with the Vietcong. His wifes voice brought him viciously out of it, and he sat up with a start. Getting up to shut the set off, William lingered a moment to finish hearing David Brinkley report on an eighteen-and-a-half minute gap on those white house tapes. Janet and her date passed, carrying a pimento loaf and ambrosia salad to the dining room table. The table was dressed ostentatiously, a casualty of Sandras nervous energy. As Sandra directed where the plates were to go, she made sure to note that she had a Baked Alaska for dessert. Her mother and father were already seated. Daddy, we got that Mateus you like... Magnus, as usual, appeared salty. His wife balanced him out by being almost overwhelmingly sociable. Mom, Sandra ventured, I can pour you some Lilique if you want... The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. But Jean merely brushed her daughter off. Oh dear, I havent drank that in years... As Janet and her date took their seats, Bill motioned. Grandma, grandpa, have youve met Janets date, Father Time? Magnus sat there, confused. Youre a priest? Arthur fixed Bill with a peevish glance. No, hes only joking. Sandra looked around the table, expectantly. Who wants to say grace? Janet turned red in front of her date. Ugh, do we have to? William wasnt in the mood either. You know, what? Fuck it. Dig in. As the family started filling their plates, Nick came hurrying in through the front door, out of breath. Sorry, Im late. he said, his eyes red and bleary. Where were you? Janet asked. Codys. Nick noisily tucked his chair in under him. Whos Cody? Wait... our Cody? Yeah. Why? Whats the big deal? Bill fielded this one. Hes five years older than you, dont you think thats weird? No, but I do think youre weird. Nick tried to change the subject. Whos father time? Bill scoffed. Already said it. How long have you guys been dating? Lynn asked, as she piled food on her plate. Sandra watched her daughter, skeptically. Lynn dear, dont you think youve had enough? Im hungry. Why dont you finish whats on your plate first. You know I love turkey. And I love you. Id just love you a little more if you were skinny. Mom! Oh, thats not what I meant! I meant wed be a lot closer if there wasnt all that... Sandra searched for the right words. ...fat in the way-- Janet laughed, shocked. MOM! You could do with some reducing yourself, missy. Janet stared blankly at her mother. I guess it runs in the family... Sandra scowled. Swallowing her response, she picked up her plate and went into the kitchen. She came back with a chalky shake in a glass. William, who was cutting the bird, offered her some. White meat, hun? Sandra shook her head. Oh, none for me thanks, just my metracal. There came a knock at the door and Bill ran to get it. While he was gone, Janet talked about her new acting class. At school theyre teaching us about staying in the moment, about living in your discomfort and letting it propel the scene. No one seemed to be listening. Bill returned to the table with a slim, lovely asian girl by his side. She had dressed for the occasion in a blue picnic table dress and matching hair ribbon. She had a dish of scalloped potatoes wrapped in seran wrap in hand, but when she saw that everyone was eating already, she whispered to Bill: You started without me... Its okay, just grab a plate. Everyone, this is Linda. We met at the Student Union. She was organizing an anti-liberal rally. William watched as the girl took the empty seat between him and his boy. He looked like he wanted to say something, but instead turned to Janets date. So Arthur, tell us a little bit about yourself. What do you do for a living? Im a professor at a small liberal arts college up north. Oh, what school? Colby-Sawyer. Sandra brightened. Oh, Janet goes there-- dear god, youre dating your professor?! Janet saw this coming. Oh, Im sorry mother - are you awake tonight? Have the meds not kicked in? Nick laughed, high and delighted. Good one. Magnus was unable to stay quiet a moment longer. If this is how you raise your kids, its no wonder they walk all over you. William slowly turned to face him. Come again? Sandra smelled a fight brewing and tried to diffuse. Now daddy, be nice! Magnus motioned to his oldest granddaughter. You are squandering this girls future. You are wasting her potential. College is for expanding ones horizons. She needs to see the world, not just one piece of it! Sweetheart, he said turning to Janet, how would you like to travel with your grandmother and me? Maybe see Europe? Janets eyes bloomed. Oh my god, grandpa thank you, Id love to-- William interjected, We can discuss this later... Jean picked up where her husband left off. I mean really, Sandra C how can this young lady be expected to secure any kind of engagement if this is the example youve set for her? Sandra let her mothers comment wash right over her. Instead, she turned her attention to Lynn, who was slouching. Sit up straight, sweetheart. Good postures a must. Lynn dropped her fork and groaned. Manners are for when we go out to dinner! Under Jeans watchful eye, Sandra corrected her daughter. No, manners are what separate us from the animals! Lynn unhappily went back to her food as Bludgeon breezed by her leg. She leaned over to pet him, but quickly pulled her arm back in disgust. Ew, mom! Look at Bludgeon! Sandra stood up to see Bludgeon rubbing his anus on the carpet. She shrieked. Get it out of here, Bill! Bill rolled his eyes but threw his napkin down to pull the dog outside. Magnus, though, wasnt done with William. I dont know why Im surprised seeing behavior like this, youve never had a firm hand the way that I did... William forced a smile onto his face. You know, Magnus, Ive heard things about you that wouldnt make for a very nice Thanksgiving. Magnuss forehead wrinkled. What? Tell me. But William just shook his head. No. Magnus slapped the table, triumphantly. See! Youve got nothing. What did you hear, dad? Nick wanted to know. Kids, your grandfather is a war profiteer. Magnuss eyes went wide. What?! I dont know why you thought I wouldnt find out. I mean really, bribing that Colonel to get the ropes account-- That is not what happened! Magnus bellowed. He stood up, red-faced and apoplectic. Come on, Jean C were leaving! Daddy! Sandra pleaded. Jean looked like she might object, but in the end just followed her husband out to their car. William pushed his chair back when they were finally gone. Well, I dont know about any of you -- but I need a drink. He got up and went to the kitchen, pouring himself a tumbler of scotch. It wasnt long before Bill entered the room. So, dad... what do you think? What do I think of what? Of Linda... of my date... William laughed. Son, I get the appeal. I really do. But you fuck em, you dont date em. He took his drink back into the dining room, announcing to everyone, Now that the riff-raff is gone maybe we can actually enjoy dinner. When Bill returned to the table, something in him had changed. If the kids only got attention for acting out, he thought, then he would show them what real acting out looked like. He let the conversation continue on for a few moments before he spoke up. Youre so full of shit. he mumbled. Sandra dropped her fork. BILLY! But Bill just stared at his father. You know, I have never once felt safe in this house. Not with her. And certainly not with you-- William sighed. Go ahead, Bill. Tell me how Im full of shit. We talked about it in business class. Youre stuck selling burlap when the world is changing to synthetics. Youll be broke by 1980-- Is that all? And your idiotic fights with grandpa, you think hes mad that you took over his company? Sure he is! But what hes really mad about is that youre sleeping with his daughter-" --Jesus, Bill! Janet laughed. Stay out of this, he warned her. Arthur didnt take too kindly to that. Now, wait a minute here-- But Bill was only too happy to have a new target. And you, new guy! I have a question -- do you hit my sister?! Do I what?! Arthur stammered. Janet stared down at her plate, unable to find her voice. Sandra dropped her face in her hands as William tried to regain control of the sinking ship. Look, youve upset your mother! Bill scoffed. Oh please, she was already crying before dinner. William looked up. Is that true, Sandi? His wife said nothing, just kept her face covered. You told me you were done with the crying... Bill powered on, no one able to stop him. Goddamn, this family! Youd eat your own kids if someone told you you looked good doing it! But William could hear no more. Give it a rest, Bill. His son balked. Why? I have done nothing wrong here tonight. Im just being honest, just being myself--" Bills date squirmed, uncomfortably. By then, William was almost yelling. You must really be proud! What a wonderful way to treat your family! Bill got to his feet. We''re not family. You''re just people I have to dress up around. He removed his clip-on tie and threw it to the ground. Were not family?! I gave you my name! And what do you do with it?! William laughed, grimly. One-big-nothing! You didnt give me your name, you gave me your fathers name! Because you hate me just as much as you hated him! William leapt up from his chair. He slammed Bill down onto the table and began spanking him; big, violent swings that left welts and broke the glasses on the table. Nick screamed for his father to stop, but William wouldnt listen. Unable to do anything, Nick clamped his hands firmly over his ears. Sandra tried to pull William off but to no avail. It looked like it would never end until Bill reared back suddenly, knocking his father to the ground. All the children went silent. Bill took one look at his old man lying vulnerable on the floor, his nose bleeding. He tore out of the house, leaving his date by her lonesome. Next to Sandra, Nick quietly clasped his mothers hand as she started to cry. It was deathly quiet until Linda asked, can someone give me a ride to the bus stop? ** In the family car, Bill drove angrily, a bottle of vodka in hand. He slowed to take a swig, but mostly just sped through the night, taking turns at the last minute, riding the guardrail. He dropped the bottle briefly and had to reach over into the depths of the passenger seat to find it. He didnt see the cop car hidden under the bridge until the siren roared to life behind him in the rear-view. The surprise took his eyes off the road for just a moment too long. His wheels clipped the curb and sent the car careening down an embankment, rolling end over end until it finally settled to a stop at the bottom of the ravine. When the police officer wrestled open the door of Bills upside-down car, he found Bill tangled in his seat belt, sucking on the vodka bottle like a baby with a bottle. ** In the hospital hours later, a Doctor stitched Bill up as his mother yelled at him. His father watched from the hallway, refusing to even enter the room. I mean what were you thinking?! Sandra screamed. You knew what you were doing bringing one of them to dinner! When she got no response, she stormed out of her sons hospital room, leaving only Janet and Bills doctor behind. Bill stared daggers at his sister, now able to speak freely with his mother gone. Why would you let me drive? he demanded. Janet replayed what her brother had said. It didnt make any more sense than the first time she heard it. She leaned over him as the doctor was finishing up. I want you to listen to me carefully, she began. Because this is the last time we will ever speak. If I had your problems, I would probably blame other people too. But I am not your keeper and you are not my responsibility. Your mistakes are your own! If I wanted a child to take care of, I would have one of my own! Chapter Twenty-Three -- Spring, 1974 (The Eagles – “Take it to the Limit”) Chapter Twenty-Three -- Spring, 1974 The Eagles C Take it to the Limit After that fateful Thanksgiving dinner, everyone went their own way. In danger of being expelled again, Nick got Cody to drive him into Newark to take the high school equivalency exam. He got the lowest grade possible without flunking and received his diploma in the mail six to eight weeks later. Janet took Magnus and Jean up on their offer to tour Europe. She joined the jet set flitting around international hotspots, drinking and carousing. She gondolad in Positano. She explored the Amalfi Coast and Monaco on the Riviera. She wore harem pants for the first time. When her grandparents dropped her off in Paris, she took to smoking and sunbathing topless on the roof of their pied-a-terre. She got so high on mushrooms she thought the wake of the planes in the blue sky were the wake of the boats on the water. In the afternoons, she would write on a rusty typewriter she found. She put down on paper as many stories about her friends as she could remember. When he heard she was in town, Glen Tonche drove his hog up from the south of France and played her Forever Young on his guitar, telling her he wrote it himself. She would be back in the states before she ever learned the truth. When Spring break ended, Janet officially decided to leave school. If she was going to give acting a try, she figured she might as well start as soon as possible. With Janet out of the picture, Lynn moved directly into her old room. Down came the Jim Morrison poster, up went the Carpenters and the Monkees. Janet didnt care. She moved out to Magnus and Jeans condo in Santa Monica and started auditioning and taking acting classes. Her grandparents were never there, so she had the place to herself, decorating it the way she liked it. She hung her shawls up over the windows and lamps, turned an old Chianti bottle into a candle holder. She got a Siamese cat and played with it while listening to Carole King. There was no maid, but if she took just a little Dexedrine, she could clean the whole place in a couple hours, clenching her jaw the entire time. As for Bill, he had a job in the city; something a friend of his father put together for him. It was dry, soul-crushing work, but it paid. Not a lot, but some. He just wished he could find something interesting in it. Even if it was only selling safety to people. Prudential Insurance was a company he would stay at for more than thirty years, until they let him go with nothing but a shitty watch that turned his skin green. He was an Actuarial Associate, the exact wrong person to access risk, but somehow he made it work. It wasnt all bad. He had a familiar face on his floor; John Birch worked in Client Relations, which meant wining and dining at up to three lunches a day. Bill wasnt the outstanding employee of his peer group, but he did have his fans, his boss being a major one, and he was flagged as a man on the rise, someone to look out for. He found a group of young turks, of similar age and title, that started spending time together. After a hard days work, they would head to drinks at Llewellyns down on the corner. They were in their early twenties and didnt have wives to rush home to, so they could tie one on every night of the week and still arrive fresh to work the next morning. But Bill had no such luck. Where his co-workers seemed to know how and when to stop, Bill couldnt tell when enough was enough. Hed wake up back in his apartment - still half in and half out of yesterdays clothes C eyes bloodshot, temples screaming. His alarm would read 6:43 a.m. or some other ungodly, early time and instead of hitting the snooze button, instead of rolling over in bed, he fought every impulse he had in him and rose for the day and showered. Nine to twelve was a wash, he got nothing done, no work of any kind. All he could focus on was finding the right ratio of bicarb and black coffee that wouldnt tear his stomach up and send him running for the bathroom. The last thing he wanted to do was take a business lunch, but J.B. called him early on in the day to tell him hed be needing his assistance closing some Texans who were in from out of town representing a regional construction company. Bill didnt particularly want to see people but going to one of J.B.s client lunches meant he could start drinking at noon. And if history was any indication, these meetings could stretch through to quitting time. He arrived at P.J. Clarkes a few minutes early and found J.B. by the ma?tre d stand waiting to be seated. Where the clients? Bill asked. J.B. motioned. Theyre in the bathroom, as they put it, draining the snake. I tell ya, Bill C I dont think I can keep up with them. They never stop... they eat and drink more than any person Ive ever met in my life. It never ends with these guys! I have to play golf with them later. And you know how I hate golf! Oh, poor you. Bill mumbled, rubbing his head. The ma?tre d returned from supervising a table flip and led J.B. and Bill to their booth. J.B. took the aisle so he could see the clients when they emerged. Bill looked his friend over. J.B. was in a three-piece suit that had recently been pressed. You know, I never saw you doing this kind of work. This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. What do you mean? I mean, I never figured Mr. Students for a Democratic Society would fall so low as to take a job working for the man. J.B. was quiet for a few moments before speaking. I just got tired of trying to do the right thing. When Watergate happened, I let myself feel the smallest glimmer of hope that there was some... corrective force... in the universe. And then Ford pardoned him. I realized theres no use in fighting. As the beefy Texans came out of the bathroom, they signaled to J.B. they were heading to the bar. He gave them a thumbs-up, saying to Bill, theyre big fellas, huh? Coupla good ol boys. Ill bet you each of them orders a T-bone. That afternoon with the clients turned into a several week binge. The mornings became harder and harder for Bill to make it through. Invariably, one of the turks would stop by his desk and bring up something inane from the night before and smile at him with their dumb fucking grin. As time went by, Bill came to terrible conclusions about the people he worked with; how everyone was an idiot, and only out for themselves. Hed alienate his coworkers by saying things like working hard doesnt matter, your life was figured out long before you were born and theres nothing to do but stop struggling. At these low moments, he thought back on the fight he had with his family last Thanksgiving. He felt he was running out of time. He supposed he had two, maybe three more incidents like that before his family finally gave up on him for good. Before he had no one and his drinking forced him to live on the streets... In the doghouse... When the Texans that J.B. had closed returned to New York to finalize their paperwork, they requested Bill tag-along. He had called in sick that day, as he had been out drinking the night before until five in the morning. But the Texans had thoroughly enjoyed their last visit and insisted that everything they had done previously be repeated. However, by 8:30 p.m., Bill had still not arrived. Stealing away from the group, J.B. called him from P.J. Clarkes. The phone rang at Bills apartment for nearly thirty seconds before he answered, groggily. Hello? Where the fuck are you?! J.B. seethed into the payphone. Bill groped for his alarm clock in the dark. Seeing the time, he cursed and said hed be there as soon as he could. He hung up and reached for the water on his bedside table. Taking a deep sip, he spit it out when he realized it was his piss from the night before. Bill retched onto the floor until he had nothing left in him. Thirty minutes later, he arrived in yesterdays clothes, sweating heavily. J.B. saw him come in and left the table to lambast him away from the clients. Did I or did I not confirm this with your secretary several times yesterday? I know, I know... Bill said shaking his head. He refused to meet J.B.s eyeline. J.B. looked like he wanted to continue chewing Bill out, but instead just sighed. I needed you here. Theyre... having cold feet. And for some reason they like you. So please, just dont be yourself tonight. Bill fought the rising tide of vomit in the back of his throat. I understand. J.B. led the way back to the table. When the Texans saw Bill, they cheered. Billy boy! Bill forced a smile onto his face. How we doing, fellas? J.B. took a quick poll. Im gonna get us another round C Bill you want? Bill thought about the churning witchs cauldron in his stomach, but finally nodded yes to J.B.s offer. He settled in as the Texans slid over to make room for him. Before he headed to the bar, J.B. threw out a talking point. You know, Bill does a hell of a Patty Hearst impression. Oh, they dont wanna hear that... Bill blushed, trying to keep his beer down. The hell we dont! Timmons wailed, slapping the table. Bill reluctantly cleared his throat. He crossed his arms, pouting, and put on a big, grumpy frown, crying: I dont wanna go home! You would have thought an atomic bomb had gone off. The Texans roared, gripping their sides to keep from exploding. The noise drew looks from all corners of the restaurant. As the boys slowly recovered, J.B. smiled appreciatively at Bill. Later, as they tucked the blacked-out Texans into a pair of cabs, J.B. thanked him. I dont know how you pulled it off, but god bless you. They waved as the cabs pulled away. When they were out of sight, J.B. turned to face Bill. I was wrong about you. Youre a pro... J.B. looked around to make sure the coast was clear, that no co-workers were around. I probably shouldnt be saying this, but Ive been thinking about it for a long time. Management doesnt know or doesnt care what we do for the company. Im twenty percent of all the new business for this branch. Im sick of the prehistoric way they do business. I wanna leave. I wanna start my own firm. And if tonight is any indication, I want you to come with me. Bill was very aware of the vodka emanating out of his pores. He said hed think about it. The next day on his way out of work, he saw the man for the first time: a soot-covered wino digging in the trash by the front door of his building. His pants were the color of someone who shit himself whenever he pleased. As the days went by, he had a habit of finding Bill in the largest of crowds and smiling at him. Even if Bill left work at an unnatural hour, the wino would spot him. Bill gradually began to think of this man as his ghost of Christmas future, an omen of what he could become. This wild animal that society had forgotten about, had abandoned, soon found his way into Bills dreams. Eventually, he could put J.B. off no longer. His friend needed an answer. Bill found that the decision had already been made for him. If this was a glimpse into his future, then how could he leave the meager job he did have for some pipe dream that might not even come to fruition? When he finally told J.B. no, J.B. had looked at him with something resembling pity. Bill settled into middle-management, his skills not extending far enough to see him advance. He never saw the wino again, even found himself looking for the man in a strange, car-wreck, cant-look-away kind of curiosity. When he read in a Times article several months later that J.B.s company was already valued in the millions, something in him snapped. A doctor called it olfactory insanity. No matter how much cologne he put on, no matter how hard he scrubbed in the shower each morning, Bill couldnt help but notice that everything smelled just a little bit like shit. His boss in the staff meeting, the secretaries in the typing pool, even the women he hit on at last call, they all had the faintest whiff of manure. He never imagined that the decaying, sewer smell of New York could get any worse. But he was wrong. He wondered more than once if he was losing his mind. He had heard that brain trauma could mess with the nose. The drinking couldnt have helped, but it was the only thing that sped the process up, that got him from work into blissful sleep, so that he could wake up the next day and do it again. Somewhere in the back of his head he knew that if he could do that again and again and again that one day there would no more tomorrows and that all would be sleep and he wouldnt have to smell how bad the world was getting. Chapter Twenty-Four -- October, 2001 (Blind Faith – “Can’t Find My Way Home”) Chapter Twenty-Four -- October, 2001 Blind Faith C Cant Find My Way Home By Junior year, Eddie and I were inseparable. On the rare weekends I got off from Agony-Bishop, Eddie was the first person I saw. We were misfits together; two hellraisers from the wrong side of the tracks. Unlike Dean, Eddie had no problem sleeping over at my house. In truth, my place was probably better than being around his parents any day. Not that he was the most welcome guest. Mom hated the cigarette smell he left on our couch. She was always glad when we left to make our 7-11 runs and she could Febreeze. Once we returned, we would hotbox Eddies Honda Civic, staying in there for what seemed like hours, rewriting classic rock songs. We once changed the lyrics of Rock the Casbah to Suck your Dads Cock, chanting the chorus at the top of our lungs. Oh, how we laughed! Afterwards, we would head inside to watch Golden Girls, ironically. At least it started ironically, I think we really began to enjoy it by the end. If we headed out after midnight to get even more high, we usually ended up doing some kind of light prankery, like the time Eddie shit at the bottom of that playground slide. It brought joy to our faces thinking of the kids who would have no choice but to slide through it the next day. Not to be outdone, when we came upon a pile of raked leaves, I decided it would be hilarious to put all the leaves back on the peoples lawn. We almost cried trying to hold back our laughter. I remember that time fondly, days where my face hurt from smiling too much. I didnt put it together until much later, the idea that you could choose your own family. That it wasnt who you were stuck with. Unfortunately Janet had agreed to a family dinner at the Vanowens. In the car on the way over, Eddie kept trying to get out of it. He didnt know why we even had to have the Vanowens in our lives. Mom made him promise to be on his best behavior. When it came time to grab food though, Eddie made sure he was first. Lynn watched him pile a third of the available steak onto his plate. Eddie, maybe take some and come back once youve finished it. But itll be gone by then! Eddie insisted. Without putting any back, he returned to the kitchen table. Lotta steak you got there, Edward... Dean noted. Eddie responded without missing a beat. Lotta retard classes youve been in lately... The speed at which the burn hit him left Dean daunted. Before anyone else could speak, I pleaded, Guys, dont fight over me, theres enough Taylor to go around! Dean tried to get his bearings back. He smiled, all of a sudden. Did Eddie ever tell you what his nickname was in middle school? Eddie glared at his cousin, daring him to continue. No, what? I asked, curious. They called him Eddy-meddy. Cause of all the pills he had to take from the nurse... Eddie scowled, but said nothing. What pills? I asked between bites, but Dean didnt get a chance to answer because Uncle Kev had just sat down next to us. Dr. Big Head! he exclaimed, clapping me on the back. Then, he noticed Eddie. And Prince Edward, gracing us with his presence! So, Prince Eddie, what do you wanna be when you grow up? I am grown. Eddie said, returning to his mountain of steak. Kevin saw that further conversation with Eddie was probably fruitless, so he moved on to me. Okay Taylor, how about you? Ive told you a million times... This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source. Oh yeah, the movie thing. What does that mean? Hollywood? Yeah, probably. Well, if thats your thing then he should meet Todd Hyde. Dont you think, Lynn? Lynn nodded, quietly chewing her food. Whos he? I asked. Lynn swallowed. My best friend from growing up. Hes a professional photographer. Kev continued. He lives up in Boston. You should take the Chinatown bus up, maybe see some colleges too. Its cheap, probably fifteen bucks. Dean grinned. Isnt he the guy who got the ear rub from Aunt Beth? We dont talk about that woman in this house. Lynn blurted out before remembering the company she was in. She looked up at Eddie and blushed. No, offense Eddie... None taken, she hates you too. Me?! Lynn said, practically agog. What did I ever do to her?! With their first two choices not in the mood to play, Lynn and Kev moved on to their favorite target: my mother. She was on her way back from filling her plate up again. Seconds already?! Lynn practically sang. I thought you were on a diet? Janet sat down, bashfully. Its a cheat day... A cheat day! Uncle Kev roared and several of his children joined in, laughing at their Aunt. At this point Mom had no other recourse than to laugh with them. Because what was the alternative? To cry? I watched Janet put a fake, jovial smile on her face. But she couldnt keep it there for long. She looked over at me, sadly, almost like she wanted me to do something. I dont like how you bully my mother. I blurted out, silencing the table. Bully?! Lynn gawked. You cant bully family! Janet, tell him! Actually Lynn, hes right. You think I bully you?! You tease me. You think its fun. Well -- its not! How was I supposed to know?! Youre always laughing when I do it! Its because youre so goddamn funny, Lynn. You know what, Lynn said, picking her plate up. I dont need this. I can eat in the living room. She stormed out. When dinner was finally over, I quickly used the bathroom, wanting to get the hell out of there as soon as possible. On my way back though, I found Lynn and Mom in a darkened room having a heated discussion. I slowed down to hear the worst of it. Lynn was yelling, Oh, you know Mom liked you more! All the drama that was always going on around you and the other kids! The squeaky wheel always gets the grease-- That is not true! But Aunt Lynn was on too much of a tear. I am so tired! I am so tired of being the only person holding this family together! Its exhausting! Is that what you think, Lynn?! Because let me tell you, I dont need your help! I am not your pet project! I never said that! No, but somewhere along the line after you popped out a few kids, I became your hobby. Was it not going back to work? Did you need help filling the hours of the day? I just... worry about you, thats all. Well, youve got a funny way of showing it! Mom turned her back on her little sister. My Aunt tried to find the right words. Look, Bill hates my guts and Nick was a druggie... A druggie?! Lynn, how uncool are you? Well, I dont know what you call it! You were the only one that could put up with me... Janet softened somewhat as Lynn continued. I dont know why everything I say comes out wrong, but I want you to know that I respect you. I could never raise kids without a husband... Mom slowly turned back around. I know youre trying to compliment me, so Ill take it... I sensed the conversation was waning to a close, so I headed back to the kitchen. Uncle Kev was waiting there to lead me away. They always make up. Its best to just let them exhaust themselves, he said. Together, we waited by the front door. Eddie had already walked out without saying goodbye and was by now warmly ensconced in my mothers Volvo. Kev and I stood there, awkwardly waiting for my mother show up. So why Hollywood? he asked. Its the other side of the country. Do you really want to get away from us that badly? I was silent for a few seconds as I thought up a response. I want to be excited about life. I look at the people around me and theyre anything but... I shrugged. I just dont want to end up like that. Ah, I see... you want to be big and famous, huh? No, that sounds like a nightmare. But I do want what I write to matter to people. I tried to be more concise than that, but only ended up shaking my head. Lifes not worth living if people dont remember you. The look Uncle Kevin gave me was so sad, so pitying, that I felt like a fool. He looked out the front door at Eddie and motioned. Thats the same kind of thinking Bill had. He had the arrogance to think that the entire world was against him, when in reality, the world doesnt give a shit about you. When Mom finally emerged from her talk with Lynn, I saw her wipe a tear away. She grabbed our coats and thanked Kev for dinner. Once we were in the car, I couldnt hold back any longer. Eddies right, I said, we dont need them anymore! Janet stared at me in the rearview mirror. Taylor, no matter what you think, no one ever makes it on their own. So, youre just gonna keep on letting them treat you like that? Its how they express affection... Its how they express affection?! I repeated, incredulously. So, when hes constantly needling me--" I began. Janet nodded. Hes really saying-- Oh my god... I trailed off, finishing the thought. Uncle Kev loves me! We looked at each other for barely a moment before our laughter shook the car. Chapter Twenty-Five -- October, 1974 (Gilbert O’Sullivan – “Get Down”) Chapter Twenty-Five -- October, 1974 Gilbert OSullivan C Get Down Janet tip-toed in the back door, heavily tanned from her time on the coast. She stayed quiet until she could cover her mothers eyes from behind. Guess who? she whispered. Sandra shrieked, horrified, which sent Janet into convulsive, doubled-over laughter. God, you scared me! Sandra wheezed out between deep breaths. She whipped her daughter with the dishtowel she had in her hand. What are you doing home?! I took the red eye, wanted to surprise you guys. Well, I should say you did! The phone rang and Nick came bounding into the room to pick it up. But Janet was closer. She grabbed the receiver even after Nick said, its for me. You dont know that. Janet put the phone to her ear. Hello, Benson residence? She listened briefly to the voice at the other end of the line, before handing the phone over to Nick. Told ya. he smiled. Yeah, yeah, good to see you too. Janet said, ignoring the cheekiness. She and her mother moved a few feet away to let him have his conversation. Well, you picked the right weekend, now you can come to your sisters debut. Get out, Lynns in a play?! No, her debut into society... at the debutante ball. You have got to be kidding me. It was her idea! Oh, and Im sure youre tickled pink! They do put the announcement in the Star-Ledger... Isnt that the thing where you have to wear little white gloves? It can be... Lynn had heard voices and decided to join the conversation. Dont do it, Lynn - its a meat market! Only the farmer is dad and hes shopping you around seeing who wants to marry you! Youre just jealous! Lynn sneered. Of what?! That the spotlight wont be on you for once! Janet laughed. Youre right C I forbid you to go! Come on, Lynn... is this for you or is this for mom? I have my own mind! Lynn cried, stomping out of the room. Janet watched her go, stifling a grin. She headed into the den where Nick was now on the couch, clearly stoned, watching Hong Kong Phooey and sketching. Janet smelled the air. Nice perfume... Nick looked up, all bleary-eyed. Oh, is it bad? Little bit... Janet said, smiling. Nick shrugged and went back to drawing. She looked at his sketch pad over his shoulder. He was putting the finishing touches on a couple of medieval princesses. Nick noticed her spying and explained, Its some of the girls from my class. I get in good with them because I draw them prettier than they are. Janet smiled. Thats a good plan. ** The next night at a palatial colonial, Kevin Vanowen and Buck Tracey got dressed to go out. Buck stepped out of his closet wearing only a tuxedo t-shirt. Okay, Im ready. he said. You cant wear that, dummy. Kevin laughed as he fixed his hair. Why not? The invitation says black tie. Theyre not gonna let you in... Fine. Ill change. But Im keeping the roller skates. He went back into the closet to get ready for real this time. Hey, throw me the thing... he called out over his shoulder. Kev dug into his suit jacket pocket and came out with a cough syrup sized bottle of Johnny Walker. Thats the last until we get there, he said, tossing the bottle over to Buck, who caught it handily. Who made you king shit? Buck roared, taking a healthy sip. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Im serious, have you ever been to one of these before? Theyre stuffy and boring and if Im not medicated enough there will be hell to pay! Youre just not looking at it right. These debuts, theyre like scouting seasons. You see the talent thats gonna be on the streets in the coming months... You know, I never thought of it that way. Because youre a sissy. Buck went back to digging around in his closet for a moment before asking, do you think the women would respond to a ruffled cravat? ** At the New Providence Elks Club, Lynn Benson seethed. Her family was late. No Janet was fine, but not having her father there to present her was out of the question. Her best friend, Susan, tried to calm her down, fanning her cheeks. They had flustered, turning an hysterical red. Dont even think about it. Theyll be here! she insisted, supportively. No, they wont! Lynn fumed. Theyre selfish! This is just like them! Im always here to support whatever they want to do, but when its something thats important to me, theyre nowhere to be seen! She motioned desperately around them at the near empty banquet hall, gaudily decorated in a Grecian white & gold motif. But Susan wouldnt let her mope. Just think about something else, think about all the boys that are going to be here! Boys are stupid. I know that. But Todd and Arnie are definitely gonna be here. And Buck Tracey said hes coming. He might bring his friend Kevin too! You know, the one with the big-- Susie! Lynn blurted out, embarrassed. ** Kevin Vanowen sped through the night in his Datsun 240Z. It was a cooze hound, tried and tested, but in traffic it couldnt corner for shit. And they were running behind. Buck had insisted on opening another bottle before they left. He could be a real asshole. They pulled into the parking lot of Hobby Hall. It was normally a dance school, but tonight it had been rented out for spillover traffic for the Elks club across the street. Kev parked and he and Buck hopped out. You got the booze? he asked Buck. Youre too high strung, you know that? Now, how do I look? I dont care. They crossed the street, hurrying past a cop car that slowly drove by. Buck hid the bottle as they scampered into the venue. The event was already in progress. Some old guy was parading his daughter around to light applause. God, this is brutal, Kevin mumbled. He looked around only to notice that Buck wasnt with him anymore. Son of a bitch... He groused to himself. When Buck finally reappeared a few minutes later, he gave Kevin the okay sign. Where the hell did you go? Kevin demanded. Were all set. Just give me the whiskey. What do you mean give you the whiskey? Its gone, its in the punchbowl like we planned-- What?! When did we plan that?! You said you wanted to go to a real party! Yeah, but I dont care if other people get drunk C I wanted to get drunk! You gave me the wink! I had something in my eye! Well jeez, I wish you had said something five minutes ago... On the parquet dancefloor, William danced his daughter around the room to ELOs Cant Get it Out of My Head as other partygoers slowly began to join them. Lynn still looked down though. Whats wrong, sweetheart? her father asked. Oh daddy, where is everybody? Wheres mom? Im sure shes just parking the car. And Janet and Nicky? Theyre probably on their way... They forgot! They didnt forget, I promise you. I have to deal with Nicks bad reputation with each new teacher I have, the least he can do is show up for me! Honey, if were being honest, this is clearly just for your mothers benefit, so it really doesnt matter that nobody else showed up-- Yes, it does! I AM-NOT-IRRELEVANT! Now-now, no crying on your big day. All your friends are here and thats what matters. They continued to waltz in silence, until William added. Also, Im just reminding you that I may have to duck out a little early-- Daddy! Lynn wailed, stomping her foot. Sweetheart, I have a client dinner! ** An hour later, the punch bowl stood empty. When the young men queued around it noticed, a fight broke out among the angriest of them. The girls standing nearby watched and cheered it on, ultimately dragging the victors off to dance. Lynn wandered aimlessly through her party, just miserable. Word must have gotten out that there was booze to be had because gate crashers had started climbing in through the fire escape. The Elks Club, never massive, was at capacity and growing. Lynn leaned against a pillar, resigned. She slowly slid down it until she landed unceremoniously on the marble floor. What a scene, Kevin said beside her. Lynn looked up from the floor, unimpressed. You like parties like this? You kidding me, Kev scoffed. Bunch of fuckin animals. You know, someones gonna have to clean all this up, right? Lynn stared at her future husband and climbed to her feet. Im Lynn, she said, extending a hand. Kevin. He said, shaking it. When Lynn realized who it was she was talking to she smiled stupidly, her cheeks blushing. ** At the same time across town, Janet stood against a motorcycle making out with Glen Tonche, her arms wrapped tightly around his leather jacket. In all your time overseas, you never heard of it?! he asked. She laughed. No, it sounds disgusting... Its not disgusting, its the European way... Well, were not doing it! Fine, suit yourself. He said, grinning. Im still glad you called. Im glad you picked up. They were somewhere around the heights, a scenic bluff that overlooked New York City in the distance. But the local kids mostly used it for necking. Glen leaned down to kiss her. When he pulled back, he gazed at Janet adoringly. When are you gonna let me marry you? Janet groaned into his chest. You know I dont want to be locked down. Because then, youd be your parents... You got it. she said, kissing him again. She broke it off short though to tag him. Youre it! She smiled, devilishly, and bolted away. Glen was ready for this. --Oh, you are so dead! he roared. He ran after her, catching Janet by the midsection. She cackled, deliriously, kicking her feet in the air until a noise distracted them both. They looked up to see an older man, much older than anyone youd see at lookout point. He was kissing a younger woman. He had his hand between her knees. In their excitement, they had knocked over a trashcan. Janet watched in horror as her father kissed Maggie Birch. He spun her around, oblivious to the rest of the world. Janet turned back to Glen, her eyes unreadable. She marched past him towards his motorcycle. Take me home. What?! he said, trying to catch up with her. Why? But Janet was already climbing onto the back of his bike. Chapter Twenty-Six -- May, 2002 (Don Henley – “Dirty Laundry”)
Chapter Twenty-Six
-- May, 2002
Don Henley C Dirty Laundry
By the time Junior year ended and I had no concrete plans for college, Uncle Kevins suggestion that I meet with Lynns photographer friend became a requirement. I dont think I even tried to fight it. All I knew was I didnt want to end up like Uncle Bill, too afraid to even take a risk. With Mom swamped at work, I ended up taking the cheap-o Chinatown bus that Kev had recommended. The ticket was cheap C only $15. But you got what you paid for...
The Fung-Wah Express broke down several times along the way and smelled a bit like miso soup. A woman sat near me holding a live chicken. When I got off in Boston, the chicken was nowhere to be seen. Only the cage remained. That meant that somewhere during our four-hour plus journey, this woman had slaughtered, drawn and quartered an adult rooster without taking up the bathroom. Where did the feathers go?! What of the blood?!
As I walked through South Street station, I realized I had no idea how I was supposed to spot this guy in the crowd. But it turned out that that wouldnt be a problem whatsoever. He was the only person holding a sign. It read quite appropriately: Professor Dildo.
Todd Hyde insisted on carrying my backpack and led the way to his ride (a handicapped van) which he had left double parked by a hydrant and somehow, not gotten a ticket. He had a shock of white hair like Doc Brown, a pair of lips like Al Jolson, and absolutely no filter whatsoever. Five minutes into the ride he was asking me if I had ever fooled around with Cousin Kady. He was a degenerate and a wild card and quickly becoming one of my favorite people ever. Lynn tells me youre a photographer?
Just a hobby now, but yes there was a time when I could have made a run at it, really had a career. I had a few gallery shows in the village. Probably late seventies, early eighties. Met your uncle out there, whats his name, the one who died of AIDS?
Oh, you mean Nick. Yeah, it was lung cancer.
Potato-tomato. He was really talented. Could have gone far, but I think he liked the perks and the awards more than actually being an artist. Listen to me, said the man who went nowhere!
I laughed. You used to live in L.A., right?
Yeah, what a shithole...
Everyone tells me to move out there after college if I want any kind of job in the movie business.
If you want to be really bold, youll skip college altogether, head out there straight after high school and get the lean years over with. People will tell you success is about talent or lacking ethics, but it really just comes down to who can stand being poor the longest. Because you willbe broke out there. Mark my words.
Hey, Ive been broke my whole life. I still havent made it. The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
Todd shrugged. See, just wait longer.
I was getting serious Good Will Hunting vibes as we cruised through Cambridge, which was fitting seeing as Damon and Affleck grew up around there. I had so internalized their success story that I wanted to go to Harvard like Matt, but I definitely didnt have the grades.
Todd drove us back to his apartment. It was a sparsely furnished bachelor pad, just enough utensils for one person. Clearly this was how a life-long pursuer of the arts was supposed to live.
Todd cracked open a beer and didnt bat an eyelash when I asked for one too. Dont get addicted to these things, he teased. Youll end up just like your Aunt Broomhilda.
Oh, I heard about the ear rub!
Worst fifteen minutes of my life.
It went on that long?!
He stared off, haunted. Some of the things she cooed to me, I cant unhear.
Please dont judge our entire family by her.
**
The next day, I took the T-line down Commonwealth Ave. to tour Boston University. I was unable to differentiate B.U. from the surrounding city, but somehow found the admissions office. A Senior named Ted showed around the dozen or so prospective students who had shown up. Most of them had their parents with them. By the end of the tour, I was unimpressed, especially since the place had a staggering 40k a semester price tag.
I got back on the T and headed over to Emerson College. Unlike B.U., Emerson at least had a view of the picturesque Boston Commons. The students there were a strange mix of nerdy boys and girls with big hair who looked like they reported on the weather somewhere down in Miami. The tour started promptly at 2 p.m. Our guide eagerly showed us the expensive, state of the art editing bays they had. They also made sure to emphasize that unlike other schools, at Emerson -- freshmen were allowed to check out film cameras.
When Todd picked me up afterwards, he asked what the verdict was. I honestly didnt have an answer for him. Both schools had strong film programs and talked a lot of shit about NYU. But I thought that the tours would have given me a clearer idea. Instead, I just felt more unsure than ever. When I told Todd that, he knew just what to say. Lets get drunk.
By about the third round of beers back at Todds, something occurred to me. You got any other Nick stories? I asked.
You ever hear about what happened when Dean was born?
I shook my head and Todd settled into the kitchen chair across from me to tell his yarn. Well, Lynns in labor for... something ridiculous, like thirty-six hours or something. So, of course, Nicky shows up looking to pass the time by doing some blow in the bathroom...
I loved where this story was going.
Only he loses his vial of coke down the hospital sink--
I struggled to stop laughing.
Whats he gonna do? He cant leave it C its worth like $400! And he cant trust just anybody to help him. So, what ends up happening is during the birth of his first child, Kevins enlisted to drive all the way back home to get his toolbox! When he finally got back, they ended up having to dismantle the sink. The kicker was: when they finally found the vial, it had turned upside down and all the coke had been washed away down the pipes!
My face hurt from cackling.
Todd looked up at the clock. Eh, its getting late. Youve got an early bus tomorrow. We should hit the hay.
He set me up with bedding for the couch and went to brush his teeth. I stretched out to go to sleep, thinking about the day.
When Todd emerged from the bathroom, he was wearing nothing but a pair of tightie-whities. He stretched languorously in the doorway, asking if I needed anything before bed.
I was on the six a.m. bus back to Jersey the next morning. Chapter Twenty-Seven -- April, 1975 (Elton John – “Better Off Dead”) Chapter Twenty-Seven -- April, 1975 Elton John C Better Off Dead Janet was in a casting suite in West Hollywood, ten minutes from the best audition shed been able to muster in months. They had been lean months too. No longer could she get excited over being cast in a play in the valley; the kind of thing that only the actors family came to. But this was the one. She told herself that if she didnt get this, then it was over. So why not leave everything out on the table? She felt the familiar nerves give way to a feeling of resigned possibility as they called her name. She entered the room to find a sweaty, young executive in a mohair suit operating a single 16-mm camera. Funny, these rooms were usually filled with studio people. The exec explained that while the others were at lunch, he was tasked with casting this small, but intricate part. The excuse barely registered to Janet as she was so in her own head, ready to perform. She introduced herself on camera, then went into the scene. It was a funny one, very Carol Burnett, and Janet decided to play the role as a ditzy, Marilyn Monroe type. She got laughs in all the places she wanted them and when she finished, the Exec smiled and gave her the good news. The role was practically hers. It just required some nudity and he could show her what parts of her would be on display if that would help. ** Janet shut herself inside a payphone, fighting off tears. She dialed a well-known number. From across the country, Sandra Benson accepted the charges. Mom, its me. Janet said, nervously playing with the phone cord. Things arent going exactly as planned out here... She covered her face with her free hand, listening to the voice on the other end of the line. When she finally spoke, her voice betrayed her. I need money, mommy... Choking on her words, Janet asked, Can I come home? ** When Janet walked in the front door of her parents house, she quickly realized she wasnt the only one there. Workers she recognized from her fathers factory in Jersey City were moving about in a great hurry, but she could flag none of them down. Someone had left the living room television on. A midday news report had cut in on the soaps to report on the evacuation of embassy officials in Saigon. Not that anyone could hear it through the rush of bodies. Janet spotted a familiar face, her fathers business partner. She was about to approach the tiny man when she saw that William himself was attempting an urgent conversation with him. You cant do this, Nirmal C you just cant! You told me time and time again C enrich your portfolio! Not at my expense! Its nothing personal, Will-- He tried to walk off, but William grabbed him desperately by the arm. You middle-eastern bug! This is a family company-- Nirmal motioned around them at the workers circulating. I wonder if these colored employees you underpay agree its a family company... Pulling himself free, Nirmal straightened his suit and walked from the house. William watched him go, ashen-faced. Janet was about to go to him when Sandra came bustling down the stairs. So, youre back then? she asked in passing. Janet hurried to keep up with her. Mom whats happening-- But Sandra just talked over her. I dont know why Im surprised. You quit school, you quit your boyfriend-- Mom, focus! Whats going on with dad? Were moving. Grab a box. This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. What?! Ask your father, its something called a creeping tender offer, I dont know... all it comes down to is the company owns the house and we no longer own the company. What are you talking about?! Youre not going anywhere - this is our home! Sandra dug around in her purse, mumbling. I need a cough drop. Where the-- A cough drop? Come on, mom! She tried to still her mothers frenetic packing, but Sandra just whirled around on her. The moneys gone! Dont you understand that?! Calm down and explain it to me! That fucking Turk, he took it all. He conned your father! Its not that simple, darling. William had quietly entered the room behind them. It is from where Im sitting! Sandra clucked while lighting a cigarette. You said it yourself, he was the one signing the checks! Janet turned to her father. Thats not true is it, daddy? Every time one of you needed to go to college or get braces I was forced to do away with a couple shares. Never in a million years did I think Nirmal was swooping in to buy them up after I let them go. Jesus... Janet exhaled. Are you guys gonna be okay? William put on a brave face. Oh sweetheart, dont worry about us. Weve got our savings. We should be fine for a while. The Russos down the street are already expecting us. The front door opened and closed and Nick, Lynn, and Kevin hurried inside. Lynn was already breathless. We just heard, tell me its not true-- Her father had sunk down onto the carpet. Its true alright... Hes supposed to be your bookkeeper C isnt this illegal? Lynn asked. I ran it by Bob Charles. On paper theres nothing wrong with what he did. Kevin was growing out a big, handlebar mustache. He tried to slow things down. Wait a second, just break down what happened. William breathed hard and tried to gather his thoughts. When we acquired his company, I thought we were getting the good end of the deal because he was getting very little cash upfront but shares in the company. Then, when we have the public offering, suddenly hes a minority shareholder buying up stock. And when he got enough of it that corporate raiding son of a bitch, freezed me out! Got a whole new management team in there, one that the banks could feel confidence in. Said I received a fair cash compensation for my shares, but Nirmal knew when to strike, we were selling at an all-time low-- Kevin was anxious to show off his business degree. I dont understand, wheres his money coming from? How the hell did he get a loan? Banks dont back hostile bidders without seeing the companys finances-- Nirmal WAS this companies finances! Lynn pulled her fianc back. Kev, just let it be. As Lynn corralled Kevin, Nick made his way over to the couch and kneeled down to talk quietly with his mother. Hey ma, I know this is a bad time, but I need the check you promised me. Deposits due by tomorrow or I lose the space... Oh, of course daring, I think I have something in my purse-- Lynn saw Sandra digging for her billfold. What are you doing?! Dont ask her for money! Havent you been listening to whats been going on?! It has nothing to do with whatever this is! Do you not live in reality?! It has everything to do with this! Lynn said, hysterically looking around the room. As she did, she seemed to take in Janet for the first time. When did you get here? Just now. Well, youre not staying in my room-- Stop it, you two! Sandra barked. Now if you want to help, then help! Grab a box or leave! She left the room with an armful of stuff, followed closely by Nick, who was still hoping for a handout. With nothing left to say, Lynn and Janet slowly began assembling the cardboard boxes that Sandra had left behind. They worked in silence until Lynn picked up one of their old stuffed animals, perched on a nearby bookshelf. I keep telling myself its gonna be okay, but its not, is it? All Janet could do was shrug. A week later, Kevin and Lynn were married in a civil ceremony down at town hall. Nothing from Lynns hope chest made the occasion, but she was able to wear her mothers wedding dress (taken in in a few places, of course). Although her parents were present, later she would recall that neither of them was really there, as they had so little to say. The next day, William and Sandra walked through their gradually emptying house, collecting memories for the road. For the time being they were homeless, but they had a line of friends willing to let out their guest houses. Or as Janet put it: They lived like gypsies. Of all the things she saw that day in her childhood home, Janet recalled only one. How the real estate agent, in her plaid, business skirt and done-up hair had taken control of everything, leaving nothing to chance. In the middle of their lives falling apart, she was an island of peace. Janet kept the womans business card for a time and came upon it long after in a junk drawer. When she was desperate for work... William seemed to shut down after that. He never again held down a job. He would have been furious to learn that Sandra had soon after gone to her father for some getting by money. But Magnus was livid. If he had still been running the company, he said, thered be no way hed let it be taken from him. Everything he knew about William had been proven right. He was flighty. He was untrustworthy. And when Sandra asked for her inheritance early, Magnus knew exactly what he would do. He told his daughter that all her money would be made available at once, on one condition: that she leave William and never look back. Never in a million years did he dream that his daughter would refuse him. He was so outraged by this that he dreamed up the trust. Its stipulations were crystal clear: Sandra would be given an allowance to live on, but nothing more. In his need to cut William out of the picture, the money would go right to Magnus grandchildren. Chapter Twenty-Eight -- May, 1975 (Fleetwood Mac – “Come a little bit closer”)
Chapter Twenty-Eight
-- May, 1975
Fleetwood Mac C Come a little bit closer
The Birch House was a swinging pad designed for adults, as if the owners had no children to speak of at all. There were heart-shaped ottomans, angora rugs, and assorted bean bag chairs. But J.B. and Maggies parents were hardly ever there, so it fell to the kids to properly enjoy the place. Even if it required inviting dozens of their friends over.
Janet entered the kitchen to the raucous tones of Good Times, Bad Times. She set about surveying the afternoon party when her view was suddenly blocked. Maggie threw her arms around Janet, already drunk. I know we havent seen each other in a while, but... oh Jan, Im so sorry!
Still not over the betrayal of seeing her best friend with her father, Janet gave Maggie nothing in return. Sorry about what? Janet ventured.
You dont know?! Maggie said, pulling back.
Janet shook her head.
You mean, no ones told you? When Janet shook her head again, Maggie began to backpedal, furiously. No, its not going to be me! Im not gonna be the one to tell you!
Maggie turned heel, balancing her drink in hand, and hurried away. She tried to get lost in the crowd, but Janet followed, unwilling to let her off the hook so easily.
When Janet finally caught up with her, she spun Maggie around to face her. Maggie, what happened?!
You really dont know?! About Matt?
Janets eyes bugged out. You fucked Matt too?!
What?! No!
What about Matt?!
Maggie tried to think of something, anything, but eventually just threw up her hands. Fuckin Vietnam...
What did you say?
Im so sorry!
Janet reeled on the spot. The fucking wars over! They said it on T.V!
Maggie tried to talk some sense into her, but Janet wasnt there anymore. She slipped out of Maggies grip and walked blankly outside. Wincing at the late afternoon sun, she headed towards her Volkswagon, the one she drove back from California, and sank into the drivers seat. She sat there for a while before she even started the engine. By the time she pulled out, the sun had begun to set.
No idea where she was heading, she drove around Summit until the roads led her unconsciously back to her old house. When she got to her driveway, she shut the car off and remained there long after the darkness had fallen. At some point, she got out and headed inside. Only, the front door was locked...
Thats when she remembered, she didnt live there anymore. After a few moments of trying the handle, she gave up and went around the side of the house to the backyard. It was lit only by the light coming from their next door neighbors house. The lawn furniture was the one remaining thing her parents hadnt put into storage. The various pieces sat in the backyard, collecting dust and mildew. Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.
Janet was about to lie down on a lawn chair when she realized there was already someone on it. Cody was sitting there in front of her, staring at the grass. He had one of Nicks sketchpads in his hands and had tears running down his face.
Cody, what are you doing here?
He didnt seem startled to hear Janet speak. Nick left this at my house. I came to give it back to him, but I just remembered he doesnt live here anymore.
Yeah, theres a lot of that going around. She sat down next to Cody, wondering if he knew about Matt. She hated she had to share this. Matts dead.
Cody barely blinked. I know.
Im starting to think I was the only person who didnt. Janet stared at her shoes for a long while. Dont you think its a little sad that youre hanging around my little brother?
Not really. All my other friends left town.
Well, I think its weird.
Why are you always so mean to me?
What are you talking about? Im not mean to you...
Yes, you are. You think Im stupid or something. Just because I like you, just because--
When Janet kissed him, it took Cody by surprise. He looked bewildered, even tried to respond. But finally, he just went with it.
To Codys increasing joy, they made out for several minutes. They were the highlight of his entire life. When Janet reached for his belt, she was met with little resistance. They started shedding their clothes and were almost naked when the sound of a screen door cut through everything. Janet? a voice asked. I came to drop the key off...
Janet turned and gasped. Oh my god.
Her father stood by the back patio, squinting into the night. Cody struggled to zip his pants as Janet climbed to her feet. Dad, its not what it looks like-- She began, only to find her fathers open hand slapping her hard across the face.
Janet stared at him dumbly, unsure of what had just happened. Then she hit him back.
Get in the house, he roared. And you-- he said, pointing at Cody.
Im sorry, Mr. Benson, I--
But William didnt let him finish. Go home. Now.
Cody nodded but William had already turned back to the house. Janet watched her friend hurry off then slowly joined her father inside. Why are you here? she asked.
The realtor needed my key to show the place over the weekend.
Lynn had driven over with William but appeared to have missed the fireworks. What happened, she asked, noting the tension in the air as she joined them in the empty living room.
William turned back to his oldest daughter. Yes Janet, what happened?!
I was depressed. We were comforting each other--
Oh? And what do you have to be depressed about?!
Matt Learner died.
What?! Lynn demanded from behind her father.
Before Janet could repeat herself, William silenced her. Youre upsetting your sister, well talk about this later.
But Lynn wouldnt let it go. What happened to him?!
Nothing Lynn, hes fine. Janet said, dismissively.
Of course, you dont care C you didnt even like him!
Shut up, Lynn.
Never thought youd do it again. You were probably too busy to notice, going around with your motorcycle boy-- Janet crossed the room before she knew what she was doing. She back-handed her baby sister.
Lynn cupped her face, in shock, screaming, You know what, Janet?! I dont care what people think of you -- youre a bad sister!
Lynn fled from the kitchen, running upstairs. Her feet took her to her old room. But when she reached it none of her belongings were there anymore. She slammed the door behind her and threw herself down onto the carpet.
She remembered the time years ago when Janet forced her to skip school to go down to the shore. She was such a straight-laced kid worrying the whole time, so she shouldnt have been surprised when Janet lost her at a Howard Johnsons. They had stopped to get ice cream and Lynn had gone out the wrong exit. Like a good sister, she didnt want to put down the cones, even when she realized she was alone. She stood under the vaulted, orange roof until Matt finally found her, sobbing. She had vanilla ice cream running down her arms and appeared inconsolable. But Matt refused to let her wallow. He told her corny jokes for nearly half an hour until she finally calmed down. Still, it took the better part of the day to convince her that Janet wasnt trying to ditch her. Chapter Twenty-Nine -- June, 2002 (Pink Floyd – “In the Flesh”) Chapter Twenty-Nine -- June, 2002 Pink Floyd C In the Flesh Jesse was having a sleepover at our house, so after we ate dinner, Mom said shed drop me off at Eddies. It would be one of the rare times I went over to Bill and Beths voluntarily. Though I was glad to get out of the house. Mom had been on the warpath recently. Pete was suing her in an effort to pay less in child support. Once at Eddies though, it became clear that this wasnt a good night to visit. His parents were in a bad way. Eddie hurried me into his room and shut the door. Almost immediately his mother came pounding asking if we wanted anything to eat. Eddie calmly opened the door an inch and told her no thanks. She went away and we played a helicopter video game until a few minutes later when there came yet another knock at the door. Eddie opened it to find his mother in a red kimono and a Susie homemaker apron on. She was holding two plates filled with re-heated barbeque chicken and instant mashed potatoes. Eddie groaned when he saw the food. No ma, I told you we already ate. The look that crossed her face was one that said she vaguely remembered him telling her that but was too far gone to admit it. Instead, we watched through the open bedroom door as she threw both plates into the sink with a clatter. She picked up the wasted food and chucked it out the back door, screaming no one deserves anything! at the top of her lungs. She was so demonstrative that her kimono came undone and one pale, misshapen tit popped out. Eddie rushed over to cover his mother up. He tried to push her back into her bedroom, but she fought him every step of the way. I looked over at Bill, sitting on the couch. He was still watching Days of Our Lives and pretending like this wasnt his life. I thought about his ghost of Christmas future. If this was the most that I could ask for, then it seemed pretty pointless to plan my future. Somewhere along the line, Bill became disenchanted with the whole wasp fantasy, seeing it for the nightmare it really was. It warped his worldview until finally, he gave in to the nothingness and married a monster. I didnt know if it was because of his parents, but after that day Eddie started exhibiting some frankly bizarre behavior. He would stay up for days at a time, always taking things a step too far. When we smoked, he would smoke at least an ounce a night. I had always thought that at some point your high plateaus, but there Eddie would be packing yet another bowl when all I wanted to do was watch T.V. When we drank C which just reminded him of his parents - he would finish the bottle as fast as he could and vomit it up all over my bathroom. He would clean up with whatever was on hand, one time covering the floor with Armor-All and almost killing my mother when she went to use the toilet at three in the morning. Once he asked me to pick up some cold medicine for him at CVS, saying only they dont let me buy this here anymore. And he always seemed to have rubbing alcohol on him. I found out much later that he used it to make hash, a method he came across on the internet. How did the sweet, na?ve kid who worshipped the ground I walked on, get to this place? Still, I didnt feel like it was my place to say anything. I wasnt exactly sober myself. I think he thought that by not doing the harder drugs, he was avoiding the addictions his parents had. But if that was the case, then he really wasnt doing a good job showing he was a-okay. Mom came down to the basement one morning to find him sitting in the dark, staring at the dryer, waiting for his laundry to be done. His behavior was seriously starting to get on her nerves. But what could we do C tell him to go home? That seemed excessive. Taking Eddie aside, Mom told him that she felt like she had to make up for the fact that she didnt do more to help his father back in the day. This struck a chord with Eddie and they ended up sobbing together. He came out of that talk telling me how lucky I was to have a mother like that. ** Home from boarding school with a whole summer ahead of me, I was looking to get into some trouble. I had taken mushrooms once before with Dean and I remembered how my house looked on them. The walls bulged as if the floor and ceiling were pushing in on it and the lamp atop our television gave off a ghostly halo. Those were the last things I noticed before passing out and sleeping through the worst of it. But now that I was older, I wanted to try again. Eddie had never taken shrooms before and jumped at the chance to try something new. We decided to go halfsies on three-eighths, so if we liked the first eighth we could add on to the high. By the time Rich got to us though, it was late. He showed up strung out, with a bunch of new piercings. We tried to get him out the door in an orderly fashion, but he insisted on smoking weed with us before leaving. You remember when you freaked out at my house?! he asked me, excitedly. I pretended like I didnt know what he was talking about. After we finished smoking, I was exhausted. It didnt make sense to take the shrooms that night. Eddie and I agreed that we would wake up early the next morning and do this thing right. I climbed the stairs to my attic bedroom and fell fast asleep. I was fully unaware that Eddie had already planned to stay up all night doing mushrooms. Not just his, either. Mine too. All of them. I awoke at 6:30 a.m. to the sound of my mother yelling up the attic stairs, telling me that Eddie needed me. I was half-asleep, so I just rolled over and went back to bed. I got the full story much later. Eddie had enjoyed the high for about ten minutes. He laughed watching our family labradoodle, Charlie, run across the couch. But it wasnt the whole dog, just his top half. When that adventure ended, the rest of the mushrooms caught up with him. Eddie felt a great fear seize him, convinced that the ceiling was going to collapse. He wanted to get help, but when he looked at the staircase going to the second floor, it looked miles away. When he finally got there, he didnt trust his balance and crawled up the stairs on all fours. Unfortunately, the first bedroom he came to was my mothers. She was sleeping soundly as he leaned over her and pried her right eyelid open with his fingertips. When she woke, startled, he asked why you?! Then he screamed in her face at the top of his lungs and ran out of the house. That was when Janet yelled for my help. And when I promptly went back to sleep. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. Once she got dressed, Mom went downstairs to find the back door wide open and swinging in the breeze. She made sure the dog was still in the house, then drove around the neighborhood looking for Eddie. She found him two blocks over, sitting in a strangers open car, beating the horn. It was 6:45 in the morning. Janet quickly got him out of that car and into her Volvo. In the short ride back to our house he relayed the odyssey hed been on the last couple hours. Mom listened, horrified. When Eddie said he had to go home, she was secretly relieved. She said shed drive him. She just needed a coat. In the short time she was indoors, Eddie fled from her car and ran to his own. He drove away as Mom exited the house. Somehow, he made it home in one piece, but ended up crashing into one of the pillars of his driveway. It woke his mother. She listened to his problems, then called Janet up, furious. To her, this was all my fault. I was older. I should have known better. Mom stood up for me, but the fall out was swift: Beth ended up sending Eddie away to a mental hospital for juveniles. There they loaded him up with enough Thorazine to handicap a bull. As unfair as all of this was, I realized that it might have been for the best. Eddie hadnt been right for a long time. Maybe he wanted something like this to happen. Something to make it all stop. I could certainly sympathize. I found myself pulling away from people. With an entire summer in front of me, I banished myself to my dusty attic tower. I would sit in my third-floor window frame, my leg dangling out the window, staring out at the neighborhood like the gargoyle I was. The only person that would visit me was my sister. Whenever Jesse would knock at my door, Id angrily throw it open and tell her to leave me alone. Why are you so mean?! shed ask. I just want to hang out with my brother! After she went away, I felt like shit. But every movie I watched just seemed to depress me. Maybe its because movies lie. They teach you to believe in happy endings. They make you think your dreams are possible. They tell you youll get the girl. Now all I saw was the clothes I would never own, the cars I would never drive. Giving up on films, I would scour the TV guide for erotic thrillers and HBO specials. The T.V./VCR hybrid that I had, possessed a very workable recording setting. Anything that promised nudity was recorded. Howard Sterns Private Parts (that speaker scene?! That bathtub scene?! That lesbian camp scene?!), Pinocchios Revenge (they had a housekeeper who liked to take showers), and basically any Real Sex episode. Though I must say, I was most partial to the one with the adorable blonde who got her rocker boyfriend a sex doll and together they had a threesome with it. In my rookie years of beating off I could manage three to five times a day. Three was doable, but five took up large chunks of the day and it became harder and harder to cover my tracks. Only once did I hit six times in one day. This coincided with a hangnail I got, and when my hand slipped, I received a nasty gash on my foreskin. It was bad; I had been doing it so much lately that the skin was already chafed. But what was worse was laying off for a week while it healed. I think I made it to four or five days before I finally gave in. I tried to avoid going downstairs at all costs. Pete had won his suit to get out of child support and Mom spent her time drinking and looking at her bills. So, I stayed in my room. If I needed to piss, I used a Gatorade bottle. When it was full, Id dump it out the window down into the driveway. It got to the point that Mom would yell at me if she saw an empty bottle going up to the attic. I spilled one once when moving a quilt and the antique floorboards immediately sucked it up. The smells started to add up. I stopped bathing. I ate only a bite or two of every meal and left the plates to rot all over my room. Despite the diet, I started to gain an obscene amount of weight, something I attributed to my meds. I slept during the days and stayed up all night. When I was awake, I couldnt relax. I tried to write, but I was so far from creating something I could be proud of. When I wasnt working, I would pace for hours, believing someone out there had it in for me. I felt Deans betrayal as keenly as if it had happened yesterday. He and his friends were probably out there laughing at me, planning some kind of retribution. I knew I was devolving into a craven fiend, but I didnt care. I was in the right place for it. The house was falling apart. Ivy was coming in through the attic window, which only helped the small animals scale the house. I would wake in the middle of the night to scratching and use my cell phone screen to see that a fifty-pound raccoon was perched in the windowsill, clawing at the glass trying to get in. Near my head when I slept, the squirrels that had taken over the birds nest in the roof would spend hours running back and forth throughout the walls, making sleep near impossible. The elements were threatening to come into our house and there was no stopping them. Like Uncle Bill, I didnt want to be locked outside. Because how long could you survive on your own? In the wild? When Eddie was sent away, no one tried to stop it. Was the rest of my family going to abandon me like they did Eddie? I prayed for a breakdown like his, knowing itd be a vacation from my problems. For the first time since I tried to kill myself, I was seriously thinking of ending it all-- Taylor were gonna be late! my mother called up the attic stairs. For what? I hollered back. Vanowens. Were going for dinner. I looked about my fetid room. Kinda got my own thing going on up here... But Mom wasnt in the mood. Be in the car in five minutes! Begrudgingly, I put on yesterdays clothes and left my room for the first time in weeks. I was silent on the ride over. I dreaded seeing anybody. When we arrived, I remained sitting in the car until Mom had to yell for me to come in. I dragged my feet the entire way. We had barely sat down at the kitchen table before the subject of Eddie was brought up. The Vanowens hadnt seen me since Eddies breakdown and immediately jumped on the blaming me bandwagon. Youre older, you should have known! Lynn insisted. But they had picked the wrong day to mess with me. Is this what you do when Janets not available to push around? You move onto the next guy? No, we tease Janet because Janet can take a joke. And I cant? Youre right - I never laugh. See, this is what you do! You push me. You push me until I cant take it anymore and I explode. Is that what you want? To see me scream so you can say to yourself, my kids would never make a scene at dinner?! Taylor, calm down! Youre acting feral! Lynn implored me. I was unaware that I was screaming. Oh, and youre the barometer of normal?! Just look at your family! If you were really honest, youd admit that youre actually just a little bit afraid of your children. Maybe youre afraid of my children, Lynn blurted out before she could stop herself. Kev turned to his wife trying to regain the peace, Stop Lynn, we took it too far, we see that now, Taylor-- Its not my fault you gave birth to fucking monsters! I screamed. Hey! Kevin blurted out. Thats not right! Fuck you! I yelled at him. Taylor! Lynn shrieked, offended to her core. Fuck you, too! I watched as Lynns eyes bugged out. She glared at my mother, as if demanding she do something about me. Still, I continued my tirade. I cant believe you have the nerve to look down at her! Youre raising a family of psychopaths and you dont care as long as they smile politely and shake your friends hands at parties. They treat you like a maid! Because you let them! You are a doormat who takes her frustrations out on my family! Shes doing this on her own C you shit! Thats enough! My mother finally said, cutting in. And from the way I heard her say it, I knew that dinner was over. Which was fine by me, because as far as I was concerned... I was done with this family. Chapter Thirty -- August, 2002 (Bob Seger – “We’ve got Tonight”) Chapter Thirty -- August, 2002 Bob Seger C Weve got Tonight We got the invitation to the family reunion shortly after. It was organized by one of Moms cousins down in Orlando, a side of the family I had never heard of, but Lynn sure had. These cousins were wealthy, but not in the way she would have preferred. They owned a massive motor home and R.V. park which made them a mint but meant they had to rub shoulders with rednecks. The reunion wasnt until August, but the anticipation cast a pall over the summer. I spent most of July dreading seeing my family members again. The scene I made at the Vanowens was severe enough that Mom gave up even trying to get me to go to Sunday dinners anymore. Jesse was away at fat camp, so I had the run of the house. But I just stayed in my cave, only coming out to shit and eat. When I learned that the get-together was to take place in Florida, I decided to call Aunt Sheila and see if she was coming. She seemed glad to hear from me, especially because we hadnt spoken since my disastrous visit a few years back. I told her about the reunion, but when I asked her to come, she became cold all of a sudden. Taylor, she said. Thats not my family anymore. The conversation petered out after that. After I hung up, I bitched about her to anyone who would listen. When I told Mom, she said Be nice to Sheila, shell probably leave you her millions. I stared her down and told her I wouldnt take a cent of it. Mom nodded sadly, seeming to understand. When August finally rolled around, Mom and I found ourselves driving to the R.V. park from Orlando International Airport. Janet had made a fuss when the car rental place ran out of mid-sizes and we ended up with a cherry red Convertible. In the car with the top down, the wind blowing in her hair, she seemed happy, somehow in her element. Being a wanderlust, she had always loved old maps and road trips. As she drove down a sun-soaked stretch of two-lane highway, she had a great big smile on her face. But I was far too anxious to enjoy the scenery. During the drive, I imagined a massive grandfather clock hanging over my head counting down the moments until I would inevitably see my family again. They were, it seems, inescapable. Lynn, in particular, I hadnt seen since my outburst. I dreaded the scene that would play out. Mom, however, seemed to sense my apprehension. I dont know why the two of you dont get along better C youre both so alike. I turned to her, mouth agape. Take it back! I screamed. Janet laughed, shocked. Taylor! Shortly after, we pulled into the campgrounds of the Embargo Motor Lodge. It stood at the end of a mile-long country road wreathed in crab grass. As the car kicked up clouds of dust, we passed ramshackle porch attachments that weekly and monthly visitors could hook their trailers up to. Little hoovervilles had popped up in between. There were neon red signs advertising the sternos and propane they had for rent. It took some trial and error, but we finally found the motel we were staying at. The Commodores Wharf was a driftwood building decorated in a sea green, nautical theme replete with wharf ropes, deep sea divers, and pirate ship wheels. Getting out of the car, I surveyed the area. A small tributary ran along the south side of the parking lot. When I stood at the top of the gulch looking down into it, I realized that our family werent the only monsters wed be seeing that week. Apparently, alligators roamed freely here. I made a mental note to stay indoors. ** That night, once everyone had arrived, the family met at the Community Rec. Hall for dinner. When she saw my mother, the first thing Lynn did was complain. Ive never seen so much white trash in my life! Janet laughed and shook her head. Behind Lynn was her family. I considered ignoring Dean, but that would just make this reunion feel like forever. I sucked up my pride and joined him as everyone walked into the lobby. Someone had taken great care in collecting old family photos and blowing them up at Kinkos. The walls were decorated with them. Look at this... I said, pointing them out. Dean gave them a cursory glance. Black & White -- boring! He turned away without a second thought. I hung back to run a finger down one of the glossy veneers, then ran to catch up. The hall was expansive. Our extended family, some one hundred people, barely filled a quarter of it. We sat at two long last supper dinner tables that someone had dolled up with fancy linens. Bringing up the rear though, Mom wasnt too happy to be seated next to Lynn. I dont want to sit next to her! she told anyone whod listen. Shell pinch me! Most of us laughed, but Lynn just looked affronted. Dont do anything to get pinched and youll be fine. I sat down next to Dean, relaying what Todd Hyde had told me up in Boston. What a heart-warming story of my birth! he said, sarcastically. Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Over the course of the meal, we met cousins from Michigan, cousins from North Carolina. Mom spent a good three minutes trying to get the attention of the oldest woman I had ever seen in my life. She kept repeating, Aunt Minette! over and over again until the woman winced in her direction. Its Sandras daughter, Janet C do you remember me? Aunt Minette nodded, dumbly. Just a gin and tonic, dear. Several people asked Mom if she were married. Got close a couple times, she said to more than one of them. She kept a smile on her face but started drinking more than usual. By the end of the meal, she was happily drunk and in the middle of telling a story to Lynn. So, I looked at him and I said, Leisure Suits?-- Lynn knew where she was going with this and joined her for the punchline: --More like Loser Suits! They fell about themselves, delighting in their inside joke. Oh, but he was a prince compared to your high school boyfriend... what was his name? Pizza face?! Lynn abruptly pinched her sister. You are so mean! Janet howled. I looked to my right and saw that Sandra wasnt talking to anybody. How you doin, Nan? I asked her. She shook her head, the air tubes from her oxygen tank stuck in her nostrils. Not too good, she said. My friend''s keep dying... Yeah, I heard about that, sorry-- --And my arthritis is acting up. She showed me the gnarled finger she was talking about. It was her middle finger. When Dean saw this, he laughed. This finger, Nannie? He flipped her the bird. But Nannie didnt seem to notice, she was counting fingers. The third from the left. I nodded. Third from the right, too... By now, the whole table had gotten wind of our conversation and were laughing, in a restrained sort of way. Nannie couldnt take it. What are you all on about? Acting like a bunch of ninnies! Drunk Janet wanted to join in. Is this the finger youre talking about, mom? She gave her mother the finger. Yes! Nannie insisted. How about this one? Lynn surprisingly did the same as her sister. And these two? I asked, giving my grandmother a double salute. She pounded the table. Yes! Yes! All the same finger! Seeing the grownups laughing, Ollie tried to get in on the action. This finger, Nannie-- He started to put up his middle finger, but Kevin swatted it right down. Stop. Inappropriate. This sent us into hysterics. I didnt know if they were playing nice for the rest of the family, but I liked them like this. Too often they only smiled on the weekends, were only happy in the summer. Here they were a family full of love, but a love that was contingent upon you acting right. I had never seen Lynn so animated. I didnt know if it was too much chard, but she started telling an older relative about Deans chin scar, the one I was responsible for. Was she trying to pick a fight this early into the reunion? Howd he manage that? the woman was asking. Oh, he tripped over a chair when he was four or so. Thirty-three stitches! I scanned her face for signs that she was omitting what really happened. But I saw none. I couldnt understand, if she didnt blame me for hurting her baby boy, then what was this grudge she was holding against me? Was it all just in my head? I decided to set her straight. Actually Lynn, I threw that chair. This got the tables attention, so I relayed the story of being told to clean by Uncle Kev and hiding everything in the closet, then getting mad when our ruse was found out. When I got to the part where I threw the wooden chair, I watched Lynn laugh, genuinely surprised. For years she had thought this was an accident and Dean had never corrected her. I felt a sudden surge of love for my family. When dinner was over, the cousin who owned the R.V. park introduced a short video compilation of home movies he had gotten different family members to send him. A projection screen was set up. I watched two minutes of people I didnt know, and then suddenly, there was my mother in a white dress. She was about sixteen and Bill was holding the camera (you saw him in a mirror). When Janet took a secret sip of Williams drink there was a big laugh from all of us. Then Bills hand shot in front of the camera snapping for her to give him some too. I heard Mom whisper to Lynn, that must be Bills graduation party... Then the footage changed to when they were much younger children. It was a time when you could burn the fall leaves and while William set about starting a trash can fire, Janet and Bill rolled around in the leaf pile. The edit shifted to them on some earlier Christmas day. Bill and Janet stood on Williams feet, holding onto his outturned pockets, being carted around. I watched in real time as Bill and my mother looked at each other over the rec. hall table. They smiled briefly, nostalgia tingeing even the worst of times. By the time the home movies ended, Mom was drunk enough that I had to help her back to our motel room. As we slowly hobbled back to Commodores Wharf, we overheard Aunt Beth drunkenly yelling at Bill. I saw you looking at her, Bill! she screamed. Dont be ridiculous, shes my cousin! You were ogling her like you were a single man! Youre drunk-- --Maybe if you could last for more than fifteen seconds, Id actually be worried! I shifted Mom to get at our room key. Entering the air-conditioned space, we left the voices behind. I groped for the light switch and plopped Janet down on her bed. Thank you, sweetie... she mumbled, struggling to pull the covers out from underneath her. If they lined up all the little boys... Yeah, yeah... I said, rolling my eyes. As I helped her take her shoes off, I thought to myself that I could probably say anything right now and Mom wouldnt remember. You know, I read some of your old writing. I began. You were really good. Why didnt you keep at it? Mom spoke with her eyes closed. You know how it is... life got in the way... She rolled over onto her side. Ive had a thousand careers... I sat on the other bed and watched as she drifted off to sleep. Im sorry that life didnt turn out better for you, mom. I hadnt meant to say it out loud, but I was glad I did. Unfortunately, she was still awake. I loved my life. What makes you think otherwise? You loved your life? I said, skeptically. This is what you had in mind when you were a little girl? All your dreams came true? You and your sister were my dreams. Then why did you move us? What? From Nick and Sheilas. Why did you get your own place? Did you think that he might visit? Janet sighed. Enough with the questions for now. Im tired. It was true what she had said to me years ago: the ones who take it for granted get it handed to them... and the ones that work so hard at it, find it hard to come by. As I stood and tiptoed to the door, she muttered to herself. Are you leaving? No ma, just getting the lights. Good. Everybody ends up leaving me. Chapter Thirty-One -- Summer, 1977 (Bee-Gee’s – “Nights on Broadway”) Chapter Thirty-One -- Summer, 1977 Bee-Gees C Nights on Broadway With help from his mother, Nick and Cody got an apartment in Manhattan together on East 29th. It was spacious and airy with warehouse windows that let in the morning light. They made a day of moving in, playing Elvis Costello and drinking while they carried Sandras old couch up the fourth-floor walk-up. Nicks mattress was next. They laid it down directly on the floor of his room and he and Cody took turns flipping onto it. When he was good and soused, Nick put the poster of Bruce Lee up and practiced doing karate moves in front of it. Cody yelled from his room. Doesnt your brother live out here? We should call Bill up. Nick took a break from the karate and walked to his open doorway, so that he could see Cody across the hall. Why?! he asked, which made the two of them fall over laughing. That night they wanted to paint the town. They decided to check out a swingers club they had heard about on television. But to get in they needed dates. They rang up Maggie and Simone, who lived down the street and were only too happy to get out of the house. An hour later, Nick and Cody stood in the considerable line of people waiting to get into Platos Retreat. They stared at the dozens ahead of them, their hopes dwindling, as a cab pulled up. Maggie and Simone hopped out. Maggie, in her tube top and blown-out Fawcett hair, was already blatto. Next to her, Simone was decked out in a pale blue leisure suit halter top. She looked like she had stepped off the pages of Mademoiselle. With these women in tow, they had no problem getting in. Platos was a dimly-lit bacchanalia of disco, backgammon, and whirlpool baths. There were writhing couples as far as the eye could see. As they climbed the stairs to the second floor, Simone updated Nick and Cody on the recent modeling shed done for Andy Warhol. Maggie couldnt resist cutting in. Shes his fucking muse! Simone blushed. He barely knows who I am! Upstairs, the club was just as packed. Somehow, they found a couple chaise lounges that were unoccupied and claimed them as their own. Maggie went off to get drinks as the others sat looking around. None of the other guests seemed shy about their drug use, so Simone cut up a couple of lines. Dont mind if I do! Nick said when Simone offered him her rolled up hundred after doing a bump of her own. Taking it, Nick accidentally did two lines by mistake. He handed the bill off to Cody as Maggie returned, dragging over a couple she met in line at the bar. She introduced Al and Tina, a knowledgeable husband and wife from the upper west side. They were friendly and helpful, offering Nick his very first Quaalude. Al took a particular shine to Nick, telling him about a secret new gym he could check out in the East Village called Mans Country. Its my favorite spa in all of New York, Al explained. I thought you said it was a gym! Nick yelled over the deafening, percussive music. Spa, gym, bath house C its all the same thing! Nick nodded. He was starting to feel delayed in a really amazing kind of way. He wanted to do another bump, but Maggie was hogging the little mirror that Simone had brought with her. Not that Simone noticed. Cody was talking her ear off about Star Wars for the umpteenth time that night. Nick realized hed been tuning everyone out when he noticed Al talking to him non-stop. If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. But why Sal Mineo? the man cried. Why not kill someone who deserves to die, like that bitch Anita Bryant?! Nick nodded, unsure of what it was he was supposed to say. I want to dance, Tina announced to the table. Standing up, she pulled Nick onto the dancefloor before he could object. She began to grind against him to a slinky disco beat, when the lights suddenly went out. Everyone booed thinking someone had bumped up against a light switch, but soon there were shouts from the front door that the whole block was down. Nick and Cody sat stubbornly in the darkness for nearly ten minutes for the power to come back on. When it didnt, they reluctantly decided to call it a night. As they emerged from Platos, they realized that the whole city had gone black. Nick wanted to keep the party going and invited everyone back to their new place. But with the trains down and a huge line waiting for a cab, they would have to walk back to the apartment. When the others heard this they politely begged off, so Nick and Cody set off on their own. Within a block or two, teenagers started to loot and throw public trashcans through storefronts. Cody and Nick exchanged a look and decided to jog the rest of the way. They didnt get home until very late. The first thing they did was light candles. Still feeling groovy, Nick was hit by a strong desire to paint. He couldnt sleep anyway. He set up his canvas, opened all the windows, and turned Blondie up on his battery-powered radio, full blast. It was three in the morning. He stared at the blank expanse before him, turned on by the possibility. Realizing he hadnt taken his Thorazine, he dry-swallowed a pill and picked up a brush. He drew a self-portrait, a cry for help; a head that was bursting open. When Cody walked by to get another beer, Nick explained, I feel like I have beautiful music playing inside my head, but I can''t get anyone to hear it. Cody nodded, concerned. He went back to his room but continued watching from afar. As Nick went back to painting, he could hear the looting down on the streets below and the police sirens as they roared by. It was good to have a soundtrack. Their neighbors in the building across the way were out on their balcony smoking a late-night cigarette. Acutely aware of the audience he had, Nick took his shirt off. He felt erotically superior as he stood in the moonlight. He could do anything. He thought quietly to himself that he would like living in the city. ** When their names were officially on the lease, offers started coming in the mail for endless amounts of credit cards. Cody had no need; his family was still loaded. But Nick saw only the possibilities. He threw most of his money away on clothes: Perry Ellis suits with pinstripes, couture bell bottoms, ultra-suede dinner jackets, pure Egyptian madras pants, and velour evening wear for every night of the week. Because of this, it was always a race to make rent. Nick never thought about it until the day before it was actually due. He had many failed ventures, like breaking into tenements and construction sites to strip the copper. He was willing to do anything not to work. He would go to the ends of the earth for an end around. If that failed, he could always count on his mother. She was a soft mark. She and William were currently forced to stay with friends out in Westchester, but he knew she had a trust fund to fall back on. She could afford it. When he made rent, it was always joyful, always a cause for celebration. He would think about treating himself to something. Perhaps even a gym membership? And things were looking up. He had a meeting at Desnudo - a hip, up-and-coming gallery in the meat packing district - with a woman named Carla-something that he had met out dancing. She had seen some of his paintings and wanted to talk seriously about some kind of exhibit. Nick finished the gunshot painting he had started weeks ago and packed it up. He didnt have money for a cab and the close quarters of the subway didnt exactly guarantee the painting would survive transport, so he decided to walk the painting the thirty blocks. By the time he got to Desnudo, he was covered in sweat. Carla was excited to see him and touched his arm for an extended period. Whats that? she asked, finally pointing to Nicks painting. Oh, this is something new... he said, pulling off the drop sheet. Carla stared at the image, breathlessly. She had a feeling about him. He was something to lean into. Something she could sell. She went to grab her boss, to bring him in on this. While she was gone, Nick spied an open file cabinet with a dented, black lock box inside. He looked around to make sure no one was watching. He rose, quickly. Forcing the lock, he saw the stack of endless hundreds. There wasnt even a question of whether or not he would take it. He grabbed the wad and bolted. By the time Carla returned with Luther, Nick was long gone. All that remained was his painting. Luther gazed at it long and hard. Carla might be right about this one, he thought. Even after they discovered the theft of the petty cash... They could just add small-time thief to his artists biography. Chapter Thirty-Two -- February, 1979 (Art Garfunkel – “Bright Eyes”) Chapter Thirty-Two -- February, 1979 Art Garfunkel C Bright Eyes In a rowdy, Irish pool hall named Reillys, Nick came out of the bathroom followed closely by a veteran waitress busily tying her apron back on. She was in her late forties, a bit grizzled. As Nick returned to his pool table, he shook his now empty drink. Can I get another, honey? The Waitress looked at him skeptically, but Nick was already focused on the two out-of-towners he was playing. Now then, where were we? Chuck, the taller of the two men, glowered at him. You must be awfully confident to leave the table for so long... Nick smiled. Maybe Im just trusting. Plus, I got a photographic memory. Nothing escapes me. He snuck a peek at the back of his hand. Jesus! Where did that mole come from?! It got a laugh from the fellas. Its your shot, Chuck said. He moved so that he was directly across the table from Nick, staring him down. You know, Chili here thinks youre hustling us. Really? How so? Nick did his best to keep it light, but he could feel the tides turning. Chili stepped forward. He was heavy with a broad forehead. You come in here drunk and stumbling, you play with a house cue... Hustling, huh? Nick fired off a quick shot that just missed the corner pocket. Not with a shot like that! he said, good-naturedly. But Chuck just kept glowering at him. Would you look at that... you went and blocked the pocket. Now its me whos fucked... Chili tightened his grip on his pool cue. You sand-bagging us? Guys, come on... Nick simpered, unconsciously backing away. Chuck kept pace with him though. You suck ass for five games and suddenly youre on a hot streak?! Nick could only shrug. Fellas, I really have no idea what youre talking about... The two of them threw their cues down onto the table and made to run at Nick, when the waitress, in a spell of perfect timing, dropped a bill off between the three of them, saying pay whenever. Nick yelled to her departing backside. I was kind of hoping that what we did in there would have paid for it... She responded, over her shoulder without looking back. That was just the tip. Nick turned back to the boys, at a loss for what to say. Moments later, he hurried outside, pulling his coat tight around himself. It had just started to snow when the two shitkickers from the bar rounded on him in the alley. Hey, where do you think youre going?! Chili yelled. Nick held his arms out. Look guys, no harm no foul. No money exchanged hands, so-- Oh, thats true we have our money, but now we want yours. Im not giving you my money-- Before the words had escaped Nicks mouth, he was sucking in air from a gut punch. He hit the frozen sidewalk hard, on all fours. His new friends took turns kicking him in the ribs. When Nick finally sprawled out on the asphalt, they dug in his pockets and took the measly spare change he had on him. You made us beat the shit out of you for this?! Chuck screamed, before spitting on him. They kicked Nick one last time before walking away, laughing. By the time Nick returned to his apartment, he was bleeding separately from each eye. He unlocked the door to a small molehill of credit card statements and final warnings. He kicked them into the corner with the others. In the den, he found Cody in front of their color T.V. watching the CBS Evening News, which would have been out of character, but it was Morton Dean covering the space program, so Cody was rapt. When he finally noticed Nick, he jumped, startled. Jesus Christ, what happened to you?! he said, seeing all the blood. Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Nothing, Nick whimpered, limping to the couch. He groaned to a sitting position. What do you mean nothing?! Nick winced. Im fine. I just need an aspirin. Do you have any coke? Cody squirmed. I do, but... I mean, it was one thing when you were doing it with me... Look, Im good for it. Are you gonna sell to me or not? How are you good for it? You owe me six months back rent... Not this again. Maybe if you were staying in-- I told you, I got places to be. Cody nodded, spurned. In that case, you could always try the rambles... Nick looked up suddenly, becoming very still. Never. Thats my only idea. Yeah? Well, fuck you then! Nick grunted to his feet and headed for the door. Cody yelled after him. Oh, because I wont give you drugs, youre done with me? Yup! Nick screamed, refusing to look back. He was almost out the door, when it occurred to him that he was broke. He stared furiously at the ground but spoke directly to Cody. I need twenty bucks. Cody glared at him. After what seemed like an eternity, he sighed and fished in his pocket for his wallet. He rose silently and gave his old friend a twenty before heading back to his own room. Nick hurried downstairs. He was near the park. He looked in at the rambles briefly, but couldnt make himself go in. Turning the other way, he headed down fifth avenue, bracing himself against the cold. Around 34th street he found a guy who fit the bill, chain-smoking in his street-stained levis and oversized grey athletic hoodie. He presented himself to the street in a way that only streetwalkers and pimps did. Nick sidled up to him. I got twenty... Twenty of what? The guy asked, innocently enough. But Nick didnt have time for this. Do I look like a fuckin cop? The man gave him a once-over and nodded. Whatchu looking for? Nick motioned around them at the falling snow. More of this. The man smiled. Oh, I got something a lot more fun than coke... What is it? This is new... he said, showing Nick a baggie of what looked like glass shards. Is it good? The man laughed. Fuck being high for twenty minutes C howd you like to be high for two days?! Nick slipped the twenty into the guys hand and palmed the broken glass. He hurried off thinking about where hed do it. He considered doing it at home, but the thought of having to deal with Codys judgmental face was too much to bear. So he found a dim and dusty, highway overpass to crawl into. He emptied out one of his cigarettes, filling the husk with this new stuff. He realized in the first hit, in the first moment, that this - however shitty, however stepped on - was something special. Whereas moments before he had felt ill, now he felt superhuman. He spent the next thirty-six hours awake. Returning to the apartment, Nick barricaded himself in his room. He laid down on his bed and saw snakes crawling up the walls and bugs coming out of the power sockets. They crawled across the floor and up onto his mattress. He decided to barricade the door frame with duct tape and cardboard. Still, he could feel them skittering up and down his skin. He started to scratch at them, doing a number on his flesh. There were bits of blood under his fingernails. When he finally came down, it was the worst feeling hed ever felt. And he needed to remedy it fast. He pulled on yesterdays clothes and exited his building. Only when he was outside did he remember that he was broke. If the city had taught him anything it was that the money always ran out. Somehow, he got it into his head to check back at that art gallery that showed his work a few years back. He hobbled downtown, heavily constipated, very conscious of the fact that he hadnt crapped in days. He passed beneath a billboard featuring Simone on it. She was hawking some high-end perfume. At Desnudo, it took Nick talking to three different people in the office before one vaguely remembered exhibiting his work. Nick let his breath go victoriously, then asked if he could get a cash advance on his next couple paintings. Sure, he hadnt painted in a while, but they didnt need to know that. The woman who barely remembered him said that his paintings hadnt hung there in some time and that was not how they did business. As Nick hobbled out of the gallery, she wondered aloud if that hadnt been that guy who stole their petty cash some years back. Hoping to borrow some cash from his mother, Nick hopped a train at Penn station. It was almost quitting time, so the train was filled with commuters, standing room only. Once he was onboard, Nick realized with a start that his parents had moved. But another idea quickly presented itself. He got off the train in Summit and hurried across the street to the public library. With any luck the guy still worked there... As if frozen in time, there sat the librarian in the same ironed overalls and train conductors hat. Nick quietly walked over to him. Listen you might not remember me-- The librarian cut him off without looking up from the book he was reading. Sure I do. Codys friend... Nick nodded, encouraged, and leaned in to confide. Yeah man, listen I dont have any cash, but I can like pay you back or run errands or restock books, I dont know... Pay me back for what? He asked, a smile on his face. Look, Im just tryin to get right. We all are. And dont worry about the money. Were friends. Well, what do you want for it? Nick left the library fifteen minutes later, wondering how he could get the taste out of his mouth. He ran to catch the train back to the city. On the way, he did the paltry amount of coke the librarian had given him. The high barely lasted until Secaucus. By the time he reached the park, he was jonesing. He looked in on the rambles, a collection of secluded, pricker-bushes, and this time didnt bat an eye... He went right inside. Chapter Thirty-Three -- May, 1981 (Rolling Stones – “Emotional Rescue”) Chapter Thirty-Three -- May, 1981 Rolling Stones C Emotional Rescue It was a bitterly cold afternoon as Nick came out of the rambles. He was dressed impractically, clinging to himself through his jean jacket, trying to stay warm. He had lost so much weight that the clothes now hung off him. Sniffing up a storm, he looked for an open alley. When he found one, he slid in next to a dumpster. Time was he could have waited until he got upstairs to shoot, but that was a while ago. Cody had kicked him out several months earlier, only letting him up on rare occasions after he had caught Nick trying to steal his record collection. There wasnt even anything worthwhile in it, but he had been desperate. As it stood now, it took at least a half hour of begging to get Cody to open his door and Nick just didnt have the time. Maybe when he was on uppers. He talked to himself absently, his face ticking, as he fished in his camo slacks for a useable syringe. Where are you... he said to no one. The first was caked with blood. Not that one, hed probably throw a clot if he used that one. He flung it across the alley. The second was brand new... Then he remembered, the guy in the park gave it to him with the junk. Nick wondered what was wrong with it. But not for long. He had nothing to tie off with, so he removed his jean jacket and knotted it around his bicep. What was left of it. God, it was freezing... He pushed the stopper. He was long past the days when he felt anything good. Now he just laid immobile until he was sure his heart wouldnt do that knee jerk thing it sometimes did. He fell asleep, squinting into the sun. There was a refrigerator box a few feet away, but he chose the hard concrete. ** I was visiting my brother and he said you might be down here... The voice was familiar. But she was standing in the sunlight, so he couldnt see. Who-- he asked, trying to block the sun from his eyes. Sheila squatted down so Nick could see her better. Its me, Nicky. Its Codys sister, she said, taking his hand. Nick smiled dumbly; not high, but not sober either. Sheila... sthat you? He tried to laugh, but it came out as just a couple intakes of breath. God, you got so big! he beamed. Sheila ignored his wording. Come on, can you stand up? she asked, trying to pull him to a seated position. Nick helped, but just barely. You used to make me grilled cheese. Dyou remember?! Sheila positioned herself under one of his arms, the beginnings of tears in her eyes. Try to stand, okay? She got him to his feet. Where we going? he asked, genuinely curious. I live around the corner, you remember right? You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. Nick nodded in hushed tones like it was a secret. Oh yeah, you got a niiice place... Sheila guided him into her swank and marbled apartment. It was cold and sterile with clean lines but became much warmer with people in it. Nick hobbled over to the couch as Sheila crossed to the kitchen. She made him a bowl of soup. It was about all he could keep down. She tried not to hover as he ate. When she returned from cleaning up the stove, Nick was standing by her open bedroom door, staring at her mattress. It had been weeks since hed been able to sleep on one. Go ahead, she said. He appeared reluctant, but slowly crawled onto the bed. Kicking his shoes off, he closed his eyes and slept. For seventeen hours. When he woke early the next day, Sheila was just getting ready to go to work. Oh good, youre awake, she said, stopping by her bedroom. She had slept on the living room couch the night before. Nick struggled to sit up against the headboard as she tentatively took a seat at the end of the bed. I want to propose something. she said. Okay, Nick nodded, as if she needed his permission. As you know, she began somewhat lamely, were in the middle of a recession. Federal deficits skyrocketing. Theres the highest unemployment since the depression and that tax cut didnt give the economy the supply side kick it needed-- She saw from the look on his face that he had no idea what she was talking about. She started again. You could stay here, you know? You could stay here even after you were better. Youd have a place to sleep that wasnt outdoors and I could make sure you were eating. I havent been hungry much these days... I know, I know, but you could spend your days painting. Doing what you love. I cant remember the last time I painted... he said, staring out the window. Just think about it, okay? She started to leave when Nick turned back to her. Whats the catch? No catch. Everybody wants something. You know that. Sheila chose her words carefully. I guess Id just ask that if you need money, you come to me first. You dont have to go to that place anymore... Why are you doing this? This apartment... its too big for one person. Youd be saving me having to find a roommate-- If youre lonely, you cant buy a friend. Its not that, she said. Then what is it? She thought long and hard before speaking. You showed me kindness when no one else in the world did. In the silence that followed, Sheila added quietly, I just think we can help each other. Nick thought it over. Okay, he said, after a while. In the mornings, she would leave him money and when she got home at night, they would have dinner together. He used to make a show of cleaning up the living room, a nod to earning his keep, so he wouldnt feel bad about going out afterwards to score. He thought about stealing her stereo or television, but could never get out the door before the guilt set in. It went like that for weeks. Soon, he was spending less on drugs and more on groceries for the two of them. Simple recipes he could assemble easily enough. They began to settle into a platonic pattern that worked for the both of them. Until one day when Nick was getting out of the shower and didnt notice that Sheila had come home early... He took his time getting dressed. ** They were married in the fall at Calvary Episcopal. Mere minutes before the wedding, a boozy William took Nick aside to express his reservations. He threw an arm around his youngest son. You know, I see a lot of myself in you. Nick nodded, gratefully. His father leaned in, confidentially, his breath near flammable. But I wouldnt be doing my job as a father if I didnt say something. Shes a sweet girl, Nicky, but... I think we all know you can do better. Nick stared hard at his father for a long time before replying. No, I cant. He married Sheila under a floral arch. At the reception afterwards, his best man, Cody, gave a cringe-worthy best man speech. Some of you may know that when Sheila was younger, Nick used to call her doo-doo face. Nick buried his face in his hands as Sheila blushed in her strapless gown. Some guests laughed, but most just shared in the uncomfortable tension that Cody had created. But sometimes, he continued, doo-doo face... has a way of becoming I do-doo. The laughter was polite, if somewhat awkward. Chapter Thirty-Four -- August, 2002 (Sniff ‘n the Tears – “Driver’s Seat”)
Chapter Thirty-Four
-- August, 2002
Sniff n the Tears C Drivers Seat
The second day of the reunion started bright and early. I wanted to sleep in, but Mom decided that she was going to teach me how to drive. We found an empty parking lot C in Florida there are many of them C and she got out of the drivers side to let me slide over. She took the passenger seat and immediately insisted on seatbelts. I was way ahead of her though.
As the tutorial progressed, she spent a lot of time explaining things I already knew. Like coming to a complete stop at a stop sign or using a blinker every time I turned. Finally, I just yelled, Mom! Ive played video games before - I know how to drive!
God help me, she said, crossing herself.
Every time, I remotely pressed on the accelerator, Janet would shriek at the top of her lungs and grab at the handle above the window that was normally used for dry cleaning. I asked her to calm down and while she saw the logic in that, five seconds later there shed be shouting again for me to stop.
This is too much pressure! I roared.
When I swerved to avoid a possum, shed finally had enough.
Im not ready for this! she screamed. Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
Then you drive! I guess Ill learn some other way! I got out of the car and angrily switched places with her. I was so pissed. I had gotten to drive for a grand total of two minutes. Clearly, she wasnt ready for me to grow up yet.
Mom drove us back to the Embargo Motor Lodge in time to participate in the dozen or so field day activities that had been planned. I tried to remain positive, but Moms car meltdown had put a damper on things. From the very beginning, I was miserable.
The tug-of-war left splinters in my hand and I didnt have the upper body for the wheelbarrow race. The egg toss was just plain gross, and no one told me I should have been wearing a bathing suit for the fill the bucket with water challenge.
All of this would have been fine if the Vanowens didnt take the games so seriously. Red Rover turned violent when a couple people got clotheslined and Capture the Flag was a stalemate until my cousins started cheating. The activities got progressively lamer, so when everyone set out for the scavenger hunt, I decided to leave. I headed over to the pool area where I found Nannie sunbathing in a lawn chair next to her oxygen tank.
Hey Nan, I said. You havin a good time?
Oh, a wonderful time, she answered, smiling into the sun.
Why didnt you join in for Red Rover?
Im eighty.
Thats a really good point.
And you? Why arent you with the others?
Well, they said I was too good. So, I thought Id give other people a chance to shine.
Thats very considerate of you. But how about a serious answer?
I dont know. I might have enjoyed it if it wasnt for Mom.
Why? Whatd she do?
Eh, she freaked out on me while I was trying to drive.
Sandra nodded. Youre going to have to forgive her for that. She got into a terrible accident when she was younger.
Yeah, she told me. But she wouldnt say what happened. You wanna tell me about it?
Normally when I tell you kids a story your eyes glass over and you start looking at your phones a lot.
I wont, I promise. Scouts honor. Chapter Thirty-Five -- December, 1983 (Prince – “Little Red Corvette”)
Chapter Thirty-Five
-- December, 1983
Prince C Little Red Corvette
When word spread that a few of the old gang were back home for the holidays, last minute phone calls were made and a bar was chosen. The Hat Tavern, located in the basement of the Grand Summit Hotel, was the only one in the area open late. It was modeled after British pubs, designed with brass features and dark wood. Classy and dimly lit, it was something their parents would have frequented.
Janet and Bill were the first to arrive. They threw their coats over several tables to claim them, then headed over to the bar area. Both of them had the same fear, though they didnt express it to one another: that their jobs wouldnt be worth talking about in front of their friends. In anticipation of this, they ordered doubles.
They had just finished the first round when John Birch came through the back door, bringing the cold with him. His curly hair was thinning at the temples and he was wearing a trench coat and a bespoke, three-piece-suit. Who are you and what have you done with John?! Janet said, rising to hug him.
Bill gave him a hearty handshake and the two of them listened as John told them what hed been up to since leaving Prudential. The company he founded, the one he asked Bill to be a part of, was credited with revolutionizing small business insurance and as a co-owner, John was wealthy beyond his wildest dreams.
A noxious odor began to dig at Bill. He looked around incredulously, wondering why the others could not smell it. As J.B. continued to tell them his good news, the reek seemed to grow with every word. When John told them he had eloped the week before, the stench became overwhelming.
Whos the girl?! Janet wanted to know.
Well, as you know, my office is in the city. I was going to lunch one day and who do I bump into coming out of a photo shoot? He paused for dramatic tension. Thats right, Simone!
Bills face darkened as Janet immediately gave John a light-hearted punch in the shoulder, saying, You married Simone?! Where the fuck was my invite you jerk!
John Birch beamed. It was a last-minute thing. Not even our family came.
Youre lucky, you know that? I loved her spread in Vogue last fall.
She was half-naked, I think everybody did.
John looked expectantly at Bill who had been strangely quiet the whole time. Congratulations, Bill finally said. He tried to break Johns hand when he shook it, but the guy was so happy he didnt even notice.
Bill ordered another double as a scrum of people noisily entered the tavern, including Amy ODell, who was now Amy Angelo (thank you very much!) and very, very pregnant. She entered with a beatific smile, holding her belly, in clothes that she had sewn herself.
Janet threw her arms around the rosy cheeked mother-to-be. Well, I guess you wont be drinking tonight! They laughed together, Amys face filled with a good-humored glow.
Bill watched her from a far until she waved at him. Hi, Billy. she said bashfully.
Bill took his time weaving through the crowds of people. When he was within shouting distance, he tried to play it cool. Whos the poppa? he asked.
Oh, hes parking the car. Youll meet him soon. She stood there, smiling at him. So howve you been?
Bill nodded. Yeah. Then realizing that wasnt an answer, quickly added, Im good.
Wheres everybody else? Janet asked Amy.
They should be along any minute, were all coming from the Conde Nast Christmas Party, if you can believe it!
Pretty swank...
Youre tellin me C they gave out crystal ornaments in the gift bags! Most lavish party Ive ever been to in my life. Must have been a thousand people there! They had heated brandy--
Janet groaned, I bet you were pissed you couldnt partake.
Just two more looong months...
They met Tom, Amys husband. He was a near giant and nodded liked a grinning fool. While he introduced himself around, Bill ordered yet another double.
Soon after, the other Conde Nast folks arrived, including Maggie and Glen Tonche. The group was already blitzed but insisted on buying a round of shots. They even left a bag of coke in the restroom and took turns visiting the head for a toot-ski. Maggie most of all. She was a buyer for Saks and was dressed elegantly in a sleeveless ascot blouse.
Bill circled the bar in loops, several drinks in, never committing to an area. He overheard bits of conversations from the others.
Cody kept asking anyone whod listen if they had seen E.T. yet.
John Birch was talking to a stranger about Three Mile Island. You see the backlash with that China Syndrome movie, but what people are overlooking is how crucial nuclear power is to our society... When someone called him out on turning into the man, he smiled and said something about fighting the good fight from the inside.
I guess your morals are flexible when it comes to money. Bill had spoken, as if only to himself. It sent an awkward silence through those in their immediate vicinity.
J.B. gave him a wan smile. No Bill... I just played the game you refused to play.
In an attempt to defuse the situation, Janet tried to force a conversation with Maggie, who was standing nearby. John says youre living in Manhattan?
Maggie nodded, eager to end the embarrassment. In the financial district, yeah...
Gradually, the good times returned and Bill faded into the crowd.
They were laughing when an amputee in a wheelchair entered the bar. He was homeless and smelled of bourbon and had a cardboard sign that talked about his time in Vietnam. His cargo pants were knotted at the knee so as not to get them caught in the spokes of his wheels. No one said what they were all thinking -- that the man shared more than a passing resemblance to Matt Learner. It made them uncomfortable and they were secretly glad when the bartender kicked him out. If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.
But Janet couldnt shake the reminder. She began to drink harder than she had been. And by the time they were ready to leave, Glen had to help her outside. Amy was the first person to her car. She waved goodbye to everyone from her Dodge Caravan. They call it a minivan! she made sure to tell them.
Glen tried to hand Janets keys off to Bill. Im not goin with him! Janet balked. Hes been drinking! Her eyes were almost completely shut.
Bill shook his head. Ignore her, I had one drink tonight. I can get her home.
Good man, Glen said, patting him on the back. He stumbled to his Porsche, screaming to some departing friends. Good night, Chet!
Someone laughed and yelled back, Good night, David!
Bill deposited his sister into the front seat of her car. She was snoring by the time he got to the drivers side. Bill slapped his face to wake up, then started the car. He pulled out into the night. The car sped through quiet neighborhoods lit with Christmas lights. When he started to fade, Bill rolled down the windows, hoping the shock of cold air would keep him awake. But his sister quickly barked out that she was freezing, so he rolled them back up again.
At a red light, he fell asleep. He woke who knows how many minutes later when the car behind him honked its horn. Bill sped through the intersection, but a mile further down the road, he just couldnt keep his eyes open anymore. He plowed Janets Toyota Corolla up a cement divider. It flipped multiple times before finally grinding to a halt.
**
Janet woke hours later in Overlook Hospital. She could see her parents out in the hall talking to her doctor. Looking around the room, she noticed she wasnt alone. Bill was in the bed next to her, much worse for the wear.
She quietly slipped out of her covers, taking great care not to hurt her right arm which was in a sling. Her legs were weak, but she still managed to hobble over to Bills bedside. She whispered, Wake up, you fuck!
But Bill didnt stir.
Fine, Janet said. If you wont wake, then just listen. I dont care if you make it! Mom might. Dad might. But I hope to hell you dont pull through. You are beyond help. There is something rotten in you that not even love can fix--
She tried to fight the growing knot in her throat. And whose fault is it? Cause its not mine! She gritted her teeth, waiting for some kind of reaction. When none came, she screamed into his comatose face, God, what happened to you?!
The tears came as the Doctor entered with her parents. You shouldnt be out of bed, miss. Sandra helped Janet back to her side of the room as the Doc, who was smoking a cigarette, checked the chart at the end of Bills bed.
Good news all around -- no lasting injuries. But I want to stress how lucky you both were. Drunk driving is not a sport.
Janet glared at her brother, until the Doctor turned his attention onto her. And you miss, youll be happy to know that there was no damage to the fetus. But in the future, I implore you-
What?! Janet stammered. The fetus. Youre about ten, twelve weeks along, no?
William and Sandra gaped at their daughter, wide-eyed.
**
Back at Lynn and Kevins overly cramped starter home, Janet argued with her parents. You think I planned this?!
Who knows why you do anything that you do! William yelled.
Lynn tried to calm everyone down. Would somebody please tell me what happened? Are we even talking about the car accident anymore?!
She stared at her mother, but Sandra just motioned. Ask your sister.
Lynn turned to Janet who was annoyed but quickly explained, Im pregnant.
Lynn beamed. Oh my god! We could be pregnant together!
Uck. Janet said, rolling her eyes.
Kevin sat behind them in his bathrobe, looking exhausted, already tired of his house guests. He tried to say something, but Janet just spoke over him. This is not what I wanted in my life--
Sandra tried to calm her. Sweetheart, everyone makes sacrifices for their children.
Yeah, and everyones unhappy! Im tired of not having everything I want. Im tired of turning on the T.V. and seeing everything I dont have. I''m gonna do this for myself. I''m gonna be selfish. I have the rest of my life to give back to my child--
William refused to look at his daughter. Whos the father?
Janet stayed quiet for a time. I dont know...
William stood with a start. You dont know?!
But Janet was right there with him.No, dad! Do you remember the name of every girl youve fucked?!
William lifted a hand to smack her, on reflex, but wrenched it back at the last moment. He stole a glance at his wife, then tore out of the room. Janet watched him go. Moments later, the sound of a car screeching out of the garage cut through the silence.
While they waited for William to return, Janet helped Sandra with the dishes. After the big news, Lynn had headed to bed, so it was just the two of them. The kitchen was quiet, save for the sounds of Sandra scrubbing. When she was reasonably sure a dish was clean, shed rinse it and hand it off to Janet who would dry with her one good hand.
Dont worry about your father, he always comes around.
Janet dropped the rag she was using. Oh, Christ mom, I dont wanna be pregnant!
Oh honey, no one does.
I thought I had more time... to figure things out... to decide who Im going to be.
You have kids for all types of reasons - for love, for money... to save a marriage... Sandra paused just long enough to hand Janet her next plate. Having a child will wreck you. It''s like living again - you see the pain, the heartache, the denial, only you''re watching it through someone else''s eyes... and that makes it all the more worse.
What if Im not ready? Its not about ready. It''s about trying to do good, trying to do right.
Janet was mute for a moment.What if I dont love it? Sandra shook her head. You will. You have to...
Sandra dried her hands and walked from the room. Janet followed her. Her mother sat quietly on the couch, her knitting on her lap but not in hand, as if she sensed her daughter wasnt done with her.
Have to? Janet asked.
Sandra thought for a moment before speaking. You want to protect your kids but sometimes you cant. At some point, youve just got to let go.
But Janet couldnt believe what she was hearing. You know what, mom? No. Im not going to let go. Im gonna hold on to that kid for the rest of my life. And if he hates me for it, then so be it. At least hell know I love him.
Sandras head shot up. Did you ever doubt that I loved you? You and your brothers and sister. Youre the reasons I get up in the morning. With your father gone all the time what else have I got?
Janet tread lightly. She had never seen her mother so vulnerable, so open. Mom? How are you okay with daddy stepping out on you?
Its fine. What do you mean, its fine?
Let him run all over town, hes only exhausting himself. I cant believe what Im hearing... Baby, I wasnt there for your father. Not for years.
Thats no excuse!
You know what, Janet? Until youre in a marriage - a lasting one - I dont think your opinion really matters!
Mother! Hes treating you like a warm blanket!
You dont get it C I am the other woman!
What? Janet tried to process this new information but found it went down hard.
I started off as one of your fathers affairs. So, itd be pretty hypocritical of me to--
But he chose you! He married you!
Yeah, well... Sandra said before shutting the lights off and heading upstairs. He chose a lot of girls.
**
Janet waited up for her father to return. It was cool and dark in the house and everyone was upstairs. She spent the time smoking in the living room. It was near dawn when she heard her fathers car come up Lynn and Kevs driveway. The sound reminded her of their old home.
William entered, trying to make as little noise as possible. When he saw Janet though, he didnt look surprised. Ive got one thing to say... he started.
Janet straightened up in her chair as William continued. If you go ahead with having this kid, youre on your own. There will be no money from your mother or me. We will not be here to babysit or carry the load. You will be shut out.
Janet smothered the shock in her throat. After everything Grandpa put you through... youd do the same?
William looked as if hed been punched in the gut. This is for your own good. he said.
Janet wanted to say something, anything, to throw it back in her fathers face. But it was useless. He was already up the stairs. Chapter Thirty-Six -- November, 1984 (Elton John – “Funeral for a Friend”) Chapter Thirty-Six -- November, 1984 Elton John C Funeral for a Friend To supplement the meager allowance she got from her trust, Sandra took a part-time job at an alterations store, knitting baby bonnets and sewing patches onto elbows. Since his business had been unceremoniously taken from him, William hadnt worked. He seemed only too happy to let his wife be the sole breadwinner for the both of them. He spent his days fantasizing about Vanna White and playing golf. Sandra was restocking when she got the call. Her supervisor waved her over. Before handing her the receiver, she warned Sandra to stop giving their phone number out, that this was a place of business. Sandra waited until she was alone before getting the news: her husband had fainted on the ninth hole at Dunwoodie. But it wasnt serious. The rest of his foursome even teased him as he was loaded into an ambulance. Since he was near the city, the medics took him to St. Vincents, where the Nurses poked and the Doctors prodded until they were reasonably sure it was nothing. Still, a last-minute, precautionary CAT-scan seemed to point to some kind of cancer. They referred him to Sloan-Kettering. One-by-one, Sandra called her children. Her daughters said they would come at once, but Nick would have to be issued a day-pass from rehab. Bill was driving in from out-of-state so he was the one given the task of picking his little brother up. When Bill got to Seabrook, he looked around for a parking spot but realized that wouldnt be necessary. Nick was streaking across the front lawn, clothes in hand, clearly in the middle of an escape attempt. When he saw his brother, his face lit up. He turned heel and sprinted towards Bills idling car. As Nick dove into the backseat, Bill screamed, what the hell? Why are you naked?! They denied the day pass! Drive! Bill saw several male orderlies running their way and stepped on the gas. His Chrysler squealed away down the pavement. ** Lynn was the first to arrive at her fathers hospital room. She found him in good spirits, sitting up in bed and reading the paper. I just dont understand. How did this happen, daddy? she asked. Too much living, baby. He was tangled up in his bedsheets. He tried to adjust, but it only led to terrible pain. Dont ever get old, he said, grimacing. Its overrated. Janet showed up shortly after. She entered noisily, a bundle in her arms. Look who I brought, she said holding her newborn up so her father could see. Despite the pain, Williams face danced with joy when he saw his first grandson. Do you want to hold him? Janet asked. William blanched. No-no, I dont want to drop him. I dropped Lynns wedding pictures into the sink-- You wont. Itll be okay. Ill be right here. She laid Taylor in his fragile arms. William swallowed hard. He put his forehead to the babys crown. What do you think, dad? William smiled. Hes grabbing my finger... I know. Hes a keeper. Janet said, proudly. William looked up from the child. I need you to do me a favor, darling. Janet leaned over him. Anything, dad. Get married. Janet dropped her head and groaned. Im not gonna settle down just to get it over with. The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. William sighed, hard. You must think you have all the time in the world... He turned to his wife to ask, where are the boys? Theyre on their way, Sandra said. William nodded. He told them he was tired, that he needed some sleep. His daughters collected their things. Lynn kissed her father on the cheek. Janet stooped to take her baby back from William. You take care of yourself. was all she said. I think its a little late for that. ** When the tumor in Williams liver refused to get smaller, the surgical staff said the best they could do was keep him pain free. But that wasnt good enough for Sandra. The doctors countered that if her husband had heeded any of the warning signs, they might have been able to get in front of this thing and hammer it with chemo and radiation before it could spread to his lymph nodes. In a hail mary, Janet heard of a specialist in D.C. that agreed to see her father on short notice. They rushed him into elective surgery, but the doctor could only remove 10% of the tumor. When William woke, he was in worse shape than ever and asked again for his kids. Janet and Lynn could be counted on, but it took Bill hunting Nicks old haunts to scare up his brother. He dragged Nick onto the next train out of Penn Station. They arrived in D.C. three hours later and ran to the nearby hospital, afraid that they had missed it all. They joined their sisters in their fathers hospital room. It was the first time in over a decade that they were all in the same room together. William breathed with help from a pump, its constant intake and outtake providing a steady soundtrack to the room. His eyes were open, however dim. Janet pulled up a chair and sat holding his hand. She felt pressure to speak and filled the air with delusions of how he was going to get better soon. Finally, even that was too much for her and she began to cry. Theres so much more to say, she sputtered. I will miss you dad. Nick was twitching from something he had taken on the train. Watching his older sister lose it, he quietly walked up to Lynn and whispered in her ear. Do me a favor? If I ever get that sick... put me out of my misery. Lynn stared at him, aghast. He left to grab a smoke, passing Bill who stood in the center of the room, arms crossed. Williams oldest kept shaking his head in small, minute ways as if trying to convince himself that none of this was actually happening. To see the old man like this, no longer able to breathe on his own... He thought back to when he was younger. He couldnt have been more than ten, Nicky no more than six. Their family was just finishing up dinner. As he did after every meal, William got his cigarettes out and began to smoke. Can I have one? Bill asked. Sandra looked to William concerned, but he signaled her that he was handling it. Sure, he said, fishing another one out. Feeling left out, Nick chimed in. Me too? Though William hadnt expected this, he shrugged. Sure, why not?! Lets go outside. Enjoy em on the porch... He led his boys outside and all three of them sat on the porch swing side by side. William moved to light all three of their cigarettes at once, but Bill interjected, No, I want to light mine. Yeah, me too! Nick echoed. Okay... William handed the lighter skeptically to Bill. After several failed attempts at getting it going, Bill gave it back to his father. You can light it. Yeah, you can light it. Nick repeated, happy to be involved. William lit his sons cigarettes and handed them out. Then he lit his own, watching as Bill breathed in more than he expected. Having been warned about coughing though, Bill ended up only groaning pathetically. Nick took his like a champ though. And the three of them sat there in the cool summer air, relaxing. Five minutes later, William watched as both his sons puked over the side of the porch. He couldnt help but smile. That night, in their shared bedroom, he tucked his boys in. They were freshly showered and free of vomit, if still a little green. Itll go away in a while... he told them. Bill rubbed his temples. Im never doing that again. Why do you do it? Because Im an adult. Now get some sleep you two. He walked to the door and was about to hit the light switch when-- Dad? Yeah, Nick? Im only gonna have one tomorrow night, okay? Make sure I only do one. Some twenty-five years later, a doctor pulled a sheet over Williams dead body. Janet looked over at her brother. Bill was broken, his lips peppered in blood, from biting them so hard. I dont think I knew him at all... he finally managed. Janet had so rarely seen him cry during their childhood. She could have sworn that their fathers death would do it. But the tears never came. When she saw his face relax into a deep frown though, she knew her brother would never smile again. At the funeral less than a week later, all of Williams children stood in the receiving line of people wishing to pay their respects. Cody was the first of their friends to pass the casket. He had a dark suit on that was only slightly undercut by the single funky earring he wore. He hugged Sandra for longer than she would have liked. John Birch and his wife, Simone, were next. J.B. stepped up to the altar and approached the coffin. He placed a hand on Williams lifeless shoulder. You win this round, old man. He and his wife moved on to the other Bensons. When Simone saw Bill, she threw her arms around him, weeping. Oh, Bill! she wailed into his chest. It was only then that Bill was able to cry. Chapter Thirty-Seven -- May, 1986 (Moody Blues – “Your Wildest Dreams”)
Chapter Thirty-Seven
-- May, 1986
Moody Blues C Your Wildest Dreams
In the weeks and months after Williams death, Sandra seemed to circle the drain. In an effort to feel nothing, she had doubled her pill intake. This resulted in her nodding off more than once in the middle of dinner and accidentally drooling during a party. It got so bad that her children finally came together to throw her an intervention.
They decided to ambush her after a day at the knitting store. She walked into her newly bought condo to find all her kids staring at her. They guided her into an armchair and one-by-one sat across from her to share their grievances. She was ornery from the start.
What the hell is this?! Why are you jumping ugly on me?
Mom, no one is attacking you! Lynn insisted.
Thats what it feels like!
We know you miss Daddy.
You dont know anything! I know what you all think! You think that I should have taken better care of him!
None of us think that! Janet said, going to her mothers side.
Yes, you do! Youre punishing me!
Were not! Were worried about you! Lynn practically shouted.
I have it under control, I dont need your help! I dont need anyones help--
Mom... Bills voice cut through everything. Hed been silent thus far. Sandra looked up when she heard him speak.
This may be hypocritical of me... he said. But I think you have a problem.
Sandra opened her mouth to yell at her oldest, but in the end, she said nothing. This, more than anything, was the reason she agreed to go to rehab.
The facility was nearby in Morristown. It was close enough that her kids could visit her on the weekends. They even came to family night, a cathartic evening of patients apologizing to their loved ones. Although Sandra participated, she later thought that most of the other people on her floor had overshared.
Despite this, she began to get better. And when she was released twenty-three days later, she never relapsed again. The doctors told her that her family needed her now more than ever and Sandra rose to the occasion.
But she had never seen her son so depressed. Sure, Bill walked around under a grey cloud most days, but nothing was as bad as this. After his father had passed, Bill began to shut himself away from the world, refusing to take phone calls or see anybody. He had stopped showering, wearing the same pair of pants for weeks, even to work. Janet had tried to talk some sense into him, but when she knocked on his apartment door, he flat out refused to answer. His car was in the driveway, he just wasnt taking visitors.
But Sandra had no intention of giving up. By focusing on her son, she didnt have to deal with missing her husband. She decided to throw a backyard barbeque at Kevin and Lynns. She didnt so much ask them as she did tell them that a barbeque would be taking place on Sunday. They were welcome to attend if they were in town.
On the day of, Sandra went over to Bills apartment and kept hammering on his door long after a normal person would have stopped. Finally, Bill ripped the door open, eyes bloodshot and hungover. What?! he screamed, before he saw it was his mother. Oh, hi ma...
Sandra pushed her way inside. Dont hi mom me! The whole familys been calling you for weeks! She looked around at her sons pigsty of an apartment. The carpet was covered in a thin layer of cigarette ash and the walls had a nicotine shine to them. There were dirty clothes lying about and a fetid smell to the air. Probably because of the row of mason jars with liquid in them. Tell me thats not urine, Sandra said.
Bill squirmed awkwardly. I wasnt expecting company...
She stifled a disgusted groan. You need to hop in the shower and while youre in there Ill pick you out a nice outfit. A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
I dont want to go to church, ma.
Who said anything about church?
Then where are we going?
No, Im not falling for that C if I tell you where were going, youd find some way to get out of it. Now go! she said smacking him on the behind, all business. Bill did as told.
Sandra began to clean briefly, then yelled out after him. And make sure you shave!
**
For a last-minute function, the barbecue was well-attended. Lynn pretended to host, buzzing around, picking up trash and refilling cups. She passed Maggie Birch, coked out in big sunglasses and a floppy hat, hiding from the sun. When she saw her, Janet marched over to her mother and quietly demanded to know why Maggie was there. Not knowing that Janet and Maggie were on the outs, Sandra had invited the girl.
Well, just keep her away from me. Janet said, digging into the spinach dip.
As she lifted the chip to her mouth her mother slapped it down. Those are for your brother -- stop eating!
The moment he arrived, Bill had sniffed out the one cooler of beer and pulled up a chair to be close to it. Seeing that her son wouldnt be moving for the rest of the day, Sandra brought Beth to him. She was a mousy girl that Sandra had met in rehab whose parents werent around anymore. She had chipmunk teeth and ears they stuck out an unfortunate amount, but she was friendly enough and reasonably close to Bills age. Plus, Sandra felt sorry for her. Bill, this is Beth. Beth? This is my son, Bill.
Bill reluctantly rose from his lawn chair. He extended a hand, trying to be polite and get this over with for Sandras sake. Hello.
Your mother has told me so much about you. Shes very proud of you.
Oh yeah -- about what?
She just... says youre a great son.
Bill nodded, at a loss for words.
Finally, Beth spoke. Well, maybe Ill see you around.
Sure thing. Bill said. He got another beer and sat back down.
Sandra led Beth away, noting that went well!
**
Over the next couple days, Bill had the sterling luck to run into Beth no less than four times. At the grocery store, her cart bumped into his. At the liquor store, she was coming in as Bill was coming out. He realized that his mother was probably to blame for leaking his location. He was always cordial when they saw each other, but never exactly friendly. Beth didnt seem to notice, though. Any crumb that Bill was willing to give her, she would take.
On a particularly drunken night home alone, Bill answered a knock at his door to find Beth standing there. I hope you dont mind, she said. I got the address from your mom.
Actually, Im a little busy-- But Beth had already pushed her way inside. She took her pants and underwear off in one smooth motion, greeting Bill with one of the angriest bushes he had ever seen. But he hadnt had sex in months. And it was either drink more and pass out or fall asleep after sex. The choice, it seemed, was already made.
Of what he could recall of the experience, Beth had been a horrible lover, a bewildering combination of cheap and lazy. Before he had blacked out, Bill made a mental note to never, ever call her again.
A few weeks later though, he was late for work. He opened the door to his apartment and found Beth about to knock. Hi, Billy. she said.
Bill responded, coolly. Beth. He moved past her down the stairs.Im late. Is it important?
No, not really. She watched as Bill hurried off. Its just... Im late too.
Bill stopped halfway out the door to the parking lot. He turned around slowly. What?
Im blessed.
Bill rushed back up the stairs.Why''d you have to go and get knocked up, huh?! Now everyone''s gonna see how ugly you are! Beths eyes narrowed. Careful Bill, you arent the only boyfriend I have... Then how do you even know the kids mine? She looked at him as if it was obvious. Because you made love to me.
Bill took a step back. Youre crazy...
A grave and serious look passed over Beths face. Dont ever... she whispered threateningly, but trailed off. She forced a smile back onto her face. Come feel the baby, she said, grabbing his hand and putting it between her legs.
Bill immediately snatched his hand back, but a little too roughly. Beth was caught off balance and fell backwards down the stairs. He watched her awkward, stumbling descent. When she finally reached the bottom and lay there unmoving, he called out to her.
You still pregnant?
Beth slowly, angrily, got to her feet.How dare you! No one puts their hands on me! Nobody! I''m gonna sue the hell outta you! Go ahead! Who would believe you?!
Beth wiped some blood from the corner of her mouth.Oh, they will. When I tell them about all those times you raped me...
What?! Bill stammered, incredulously. From now on I''m going to make your life a living hell... She was halfway up the stairs again. And smiling. Unless...
Bill stared her down. Unless what?
**
Beth practically skipped out of the chapel. She was beaming, the prettiest bride she was physically capable of being. Beside her, Bill tried to keep up but was falling down drunk. She forced him to smile for pictures. It came off as a grimace.
Nearby, in a bridesmaid dress, Janet threw rice at the newlyweds as they made their way to a waiting limousine. Beth climbed in, waving to all her wonderful, new friends. She slid over so that Bill could join her. As Bill shut the door on his old life, he told the driver to just go. Chapter Thirty-Eight -- August, 2002 (Paul Simon – “Mother and Child Reunion”) Chapter Thirty-Eight -- August, 2002 Paul Simon C Mother and Child Reunion Nannies story was interrupted by shouting coming from the community rec. room. I got up to see what all the commotion was about and found Bill arguing with Lynn and my mother. --Please! Im the only goddamn adult here! At least I don''t do drugs like some people... he shouted, staring at Janet. No, you only drink. Mom said in defense. Lynn backed up her sister. Yeah, why dont you go have another one?! Bill wheeled around on her. Maybe I will, you miserable bitch! Oh, thats just great, Bill! Call me a bitch in front of my kids! Why did you even have to come to this?! Believe me, Ive been asking myself the same thing! Why are you such an asshole?! Mom wanted to know. Bill was about to respond when a voice screamed, Enough! They whirled around to see Nan rolling up behind them with her oxygen tank, wheezing hard. She glared at her daughters. Just shut up! I will not let you talk to your brother like that! Lynn was flabbergasted. But, Mom! I said, its done! Fine. Side with him. You always did. Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. Hes my son! Hes not mine. I dont owe him anything! As Lynn stormed off, her mother yelled after her. Of course, the ice queen would turn her back on family-- Lynn stopped in her tracks. What is that supposed to mean?! God knows Ive never seen you show anything more than passing affection to your husband since your wedding. Well, excuse me if I dont think that public displays of affection are appropriate! That hardly makes me frigid! It makes me sensible! And someone clearly driven by passion. Oh, wow then tell me mother, how should I act? I know you like the guy, you have damn near five kids with him! Lynn crossed her arms. Fine. If thisll shut you up! She walked over to where Kevin sat at the bar and kissed him passionately in front of her mother. Sandra was stricken quiet as Lynn ran her hands vigorously through what remained of Kevins hair. When she finished, she threw a satisfied look at her mother, then stomped away. She left behind an awkward silence. The only person moving was Kevin, who turned back to the bar, smiling deeply. I found Lynn on the back deck a few minutes later, the one that overlooked the nine-hole golf course with the yellow grass. She was smoking a cigarette. For a woman whose only vice was white wine, smoking a cigarette was right up there with oh, I dont know... black tar heroin. Aunt Lynn, you alright? She looked up, startled. Taylor... yeah, Im fine. God, you must think Im some spoiled brat. No... Its not true, you know? The kids are bleeding us dry. Im out there cutting coupons. Still, Im sorry you had to see that. I shrugged. Its okay. She shook her head, adamantly. No, its not. Youve got no one to look up to in this family. No role models. Its just... Bills a mess, you know? Mom says it started when he was thirteen Taylor, he''s eight years older than me. Ever since I''ve been able to make memories, he''s been a nightmare. He was a kid C how bad could he have been? Maybe when youre older Ill tell you. Come on, Im seventeen! Moms already told me everything from Christmas 67 onward. Lynn looked up at me. But nothing before? I shook my head. No, why? My God... Lynn said, stubbing her cigarette out and lighting another one. She buried the lead. Chapter Thirty-Nine -- June, 1967 (Bob Dylan – “My Back Pages”) Chapter Thirty-Nine -- June, 1967 Bob Dylan C My Back Pages Janet and Maggie stood on the roof of Janets house, the golf umbrella they dragged up now open between the two of them. This is crazy-- Janet blurted. Maggie looked at her, suspiciously. You said no backing out! Im not backing out! Im just saying how stupid it is! Most of their decisions were self-destructive, but this just seemed suicidal... Itll be fine as long as we go at the same time. Janet laughed, skeptically. Oh, simple! Just dont think about it, okay? Maggie got into position. Jump on three? Janet reluctantly nodded. Downstairs, in his plush office, William Benson was on the tail end of a phone call. Yes, it needs to fit six comfortably and preferably within a block of the water-- Before he finished the sentence, his daughter and her best friend came plummeting to the ground outside his window holding limply to a broken umbrella. He hung up immediately and ran to their aid. ** The next day, Janet sat in the back of her parents caddy knee to knee with Maggie and her siblings. She had a brand-new cast on her arm and looked at it, dismally. I cant believe I have to wear this for over a month! William frowned from the front seat, its your own damn fault... Janet leaned forward to yell at him. You think this is funny, dad?! My summer is ruined! Dont you think youre being a little overdramatic? First, Monterey Pop -- now this! I wasnt going to fly you out to California on your own! Janet sat back insolently and blew the hair out of her face. The trunk was filled to the gills with luggage and they were on their way to Lake George until late August. Bill and Nick were pushed together in the backseat and Bill kept giving his baby brother a dead leg for encroaching on his space. For the last time, move over! he screamed. Nick wailed in pain as Sandra yelled from the passenger seat, Quit it with the monkeyshines! The boys listened. For about three seconds. As the punching resumed, Maggie went back to her Look magazine. When she saw that they had pictures of Elvis and Priscillas wedding, she elbowed Janet. I cant believe hes taken. I want to murder her... Janet looked down at her cast, then glared at Maggie. How are you fine?! Im just resilient. Now hush! We have much more pressing issues-- Like what?! You still havent kissed anybody-- Janet clamped her hand over Maggies mouth before the others could hear. Are you insane?! she murder-whispered. Maggie pried the hand away to speak. Quieter this time. You cant be in high school and havent kissed a boy. I think they send you to a nunnery for that kind of thing! My god, they oughta write a folk song about you-- You need a boyfriend to get someone to kiss you-- You DO NOT need a boyfriend to get kissed! Fine, then someone cute. What about Matt Learner? Hes got a crush on you. Hes always teasing you-- Matt does not like me! Oh, please C you cant be tomboy dumb for the rest of your life! If you have any shot at all at getting Matt Learner, you gotta get your first kiss this summer! What are you guys talking about? Lynn asked suspiciously from the seat behind them. Nothing! They screamed in unison, ending the conversation. ** Before the family could officially start summer vacation, they had to drop Bill off at Camp Adirondack, a boy scout camp near their hotel. He had gotten a flat-top crewcut specifically for the occasion. On the way up, they stopped for lunch. The Prestige Diner was their yearly tradition. It was in the middle of nowhere, but they liked the americana of the place. While Sandra and the girls were in the bathroom, Bill asked his father for a quick war story. William had already had a few, so he was happy to oblige. And because it was just his boys he could really let loose. He told them about taking R&R in Seoul during the American occupation. There was this nightclub that the Koreans had. I swear, we used to love it so much that it practically became a G.I. bar. There were these girls there that, well... do you know what a comfort woman is? Bill and Nick exchanged confused looks. How about Geisha? I know you know that one! William smiled and clapped his oldest on the back. Bill took it awkwardly, but William continued uninterrupted. Now there was this one who was known to... how do I put this gently? He thought long and hard, finally grinning when he figured how to say it. Suck the essence out of a man-- He was so into his story he didnt notice that Bill was weeping. When William finally saw his son, his face covered in tears, he sneered in disgust. The hell are you crying for?! But Bill wouldnt say. By the time they deposited him at camp, he had composed himself. They pulled his gear out of the back of the caddy and together with an Eagle Scout C.I.T., dragged it up to Bills new home for the next two months. Although the cabin was freshly painted, it was made of driftwood and had the look of a much older shack. Inside, the bare bones walls were held up by shiplap and nails. Teenage campers unpacked their mess kits, their swiss army and bowie knives. They spread their Boys life and American Boy periodicals on side tables to make themselves look interesting. William watched as his son awkwardly introduced himself around to his bunkmates with a firm handshake. Back home, Bill may have been a leader amongst his fellow scouts, but these boys looked like they would need to be won over. Unable to watch anymore, William left without saying goodbye and hurried back to the car. ** Lake George was in a time warp. Whenever the Bensons went there it always appeared to be at least twenty years earlier. Which was just fine with William. He pulled up to the Sagamore, a seven floor, white-washed country manor with Spanish tile. It was one of the only hotels in the area that catered exclusively to the upper class. Checking into their master suite, the family changed quickly and headed down to the brown sand beach to take advantage of the afternoon sun. All around them in dazzling technicolor people boated, sunbathed, and played shuffleboard. Patriotic bunting hung from the docks in anticipation of the fourth. As the children played in the lake, William fell asleep with an Ellery Queen on his chest. When he finally opened his eyes, he saw a baby in a sailor suit being cooed over by an attractive young blonde in pedal pushers. He waved, then realized that not all of the children were out swimming. As his eyes peered over his paperback, he spied Maggie with her back to him. She was laying face down on a picnic blanket they had put out. She had on a two-piece bathing suit and part of it was tucked up between her cheeks revealing a sliver of pale skin. The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. William smiled and looked back down at his book. He almost didnt say anything. Hey Mags, your fannys hanging out... She didnt react the way he thought she would. Instead of springing up or adjusting herself, Maggie remained where she was. It needs to breathe. she finally said. After a moment, she wiggled it a little for him and William laughed. When his wife walked over, he buried his face back into the book. Sandra was with Eileen Connerty, their neighbor from back in Jersey. Eileen was loud and well-endowed, her halter neck one piece designed to show off her fifty-year-old goods. She had an oversized beauty mark at the corner of her mouth and zeroed in on Nick right away. Is that Nicky?! My god, how big youve gotten! she cooed. Nick nodded, awkwardly, as his mother prodded. Can you say hi to Mrs. Connerty? Hi, Nick mumbled. He had never liked Mrs. Connerty. Her perfume was overly strong. Or was it perfumes? A mixture of several until they became overwhelming... Eileen looked at her pale shoulders peeking out of her halter top. Oh dear, Im peeling already... She held out a tube of Coppertone, expectantly. Nicky could you get my back? Do I have to? Nick asked. His mother clapped her hands together. Nicholas! she chided him. Okay, okay... Nick reluctantly got up and began to grease Mrs. Connertys back. I tell you Nicky, you have got some strong hands. You know, I was going to get one of the baggers at the grocery store to help me move some things in my cabin, but maybe this is kismet-- Why cant Mr. Connerty help you? Sandra again shot up in her beach chair. Nicholas! she yelled a second time, then turned to Eileen. Hed be happy to help. Eileen, though, chose to answer Nicks question. Well, Mr. Connerty only comes up on the weekends. Or sometimes not at all. You see he has to work during the week. Or hes busy with private meetings at the Hotel Carlyles penthouse suite... Sandra stifled a laugh. She knew when Eileen was trying to shit on her husband. She gave her friend a playful whack on the arm but trailed off. Something had caught her eye... Sandra rose slowly to her feet and looked across the sand at a curly-haired brunette that had just arrived. She was no more than a hundred yards away, but her presence stopped Sandra cold. She was a little older than Sandra, but infinitely more beautiful, with deep olive skin. Ill be damned... Sandra said to herself. He brought her up here. Brought who, mom? Janet wanted to know. She had just trudged out of the water. Oh, nobody dear. Its nothing. More concerned with herself, Janet continued on. Can Maggie and I go to the landing and shop around? Sure, Sandra said, distracted. Then added, take your sister along. Lynn sat up, excited, but Janet waved her hands. Mom, no! Shed just be bored! Lynn dropped to her knees. No, I wont! Please! I promise! What you say goes! Sandra crossed her arms. Janet, you will take your sister and that is final. Janet groaned. Fine Lynn, but you better keep up with us-- Janets younger sister was already gathering her stuff. Of course, right, no dawdling! She hurried eagerly after the two older girls like a new recruit. ** As the three of them headed to Boltons Landing, they turned from a relatively quiet country road onto the busy Lake Shore Drive which was really just Rt. 9 North. It was always hectically busy, but they needed to walk along it to get to any of the places they wanted. By the time they arrived at the A&W Root Beer stand, they were all glistening with sweat. In line, the youngest Benson kept looking at her chaperones red eyes. I dont understand, why did that cigarette smell so funny? Janet blanched. Oh, this woman came by and spilled perfume on our smokes. She popped a stick of Beemans in her mouth to mask the scent. Yeah, I hate it when that happens! Maggie said, backing her friend up. She must have been convincing too, because Lynn nodded as if that made any sense whatsoever. Janet fixed her hair absently and Lynn mirrored her behavior, trying to look like she was just one of the girls. Next! the kid who ran the ice cream counter shouted. As the couple in front of them ordered, Janet and Maggie looked at the young man who had spoken. His hair was in his face, but they could still see the mysterious, dark green eyes that shone out. His body was skinny and wiry and Janet liked his forearms, liked the way they flexed when he packed a scoop into a waffle cone. She was lost in thought until Maggie nudged her. How about him? How about him for what? You know... Maggie snickered. He even kinda looks like Mattie... Janet blushed uncontrollably. No, I am too high for this! Well, youre running out of time C its our turn to order. As the couple ahead of them stepped over to the register to pay, Maggie was already giggling, mischievously. Or I could ask him out for you?! Before Janet could stop her, Maggie chortled, Excuse me, sir?! My friend thinks youre a real catch and would greatly appreciate a night of your company! Mortified, Janet dragged Maggie out of the line and around the corner, followed closely by Lynn, who apologized for making a scene. ** The next day, Nick reported as ordered to Mrs. Connertys bungalow. The front door was open, so he knocked on the screen. He heard her singing Come on-a My House as she cleaned the kitchen. She came to the door in a thin, salmon blouse that made sure to display her ample cleavage. Right on time, she said, letting Nick in with a big smile. He entered, hesitantly, as Eileen led the way through to the den. When she got there, she motioned. Ive been having the damnedest time getting this thing in the window. Nick looked where she pointed. A monster sixty pound, brand new air conditioner sat parked on the carpet where the delivery driver had left it. It still had its tags on. She had bought it special for the occasion. Nick squatted down to try and lift the set, but it was so dense and awkward that he only made it half a foot off the ground. When it settled back onto the carpet, Mrs. Connerty took the other side. Im glad I wore my work-out clothes, she said. Nick gave her a charitable smile as they wrestled the air conditioner into the picture frame window. Once it was in, she had Nick balance it while she ran around spreading the retractable wings. They stepped back cautiously to see if it would stay in place. When it did, they breathed a sigh of relief, both covered in a thin layer of perspiration. Eileen fanned herself. Im gonna need to change after all this... Nick nodded, looking at the exit. Ill go get your money, she said. Nick watched as she headed down the hallway to her back bedroom. She made a visible effort to close the door behind her, but it bounced off the frame, hovering back and forth, halfway open. She proceeded to change, her back to the door. Shimmying out of her already revealing clothes, she presented her squatting ass to be ogled, the sides of her breasts to be gawked at. After slipping on a kimono, she dug around in a desk drawer for Nicks pay. She came out, holding the money aloft for him to grab. When he did, she held on to it for just a moment too long so that they had a brief tugging match. She smiled as Nick snatched the money away. I gotta go, he said and made his way out the same door he came in through. ** At Camp Adirondack, Bill was still getting to know his fellow campers. If he was being honest, he was struggling in his role as their natural born leader. The day before they were on a hike. When they came upon a downed tree, he had jumped into action, yelling Come on, men! imploring the others to help him clear the path. The way he ordered them about didnt go over well. His bunkmates had secretly started referring to him as the Lone Ranger amongst themselves, excessively quoting the hi-ho silver line whenever he was especially tiresome. Bill didnt seem to notice. He just thought they were fans of the show. In private, he would ask them what other westerns they liked. He had garnered a reputation as somewhat of a narc, often going to higher-ups just to check that what they were doing was above board. He would have had the sheen of a teachers pet, but even most of the Eagle Scouts couldnt stand him. There was one counselor, however, that exercised great patience around Bill. Lee Hannah was barely a year out of college, certainly one of the younger Senior scouts, and a lot of the campers looked up to him. He had majored in Education in school and saw in Bill countless opportunities to use the techniques in real life that he had only read about in print. Naturally, he was Bills favorite counselor. ** By the Fourth of July, Janet and Maggie had fallen back into the familiar rhythms of summer they knew from years past. They formed a core group of friends who spent all day together and, on the periphery, was the boy who worked at the A&W scooping ice cream. His name, they learned, was Oliver. He was up at the lake for the summer with his mother and countless siblings. When he had to decide whether to spend time with his chaotic family or work, the choice was simple: he got a summer job. He was saving money for college because there simply wasnt any. Since they first saw each other at the A&W, Janet and Oliver had slowly been approaching one another. If Janet was standing with a group, Oliver joined the conversation. If Oliver stood alone, Janet made herself available. After several days, they progressed from stolen glances to speaking terms. As far as romances went, they were on the unhurried timetable of a Victorian affair. A couple of the guys had heard of a cherry spot to watch the fireworks, so they were all going to meet at this place called high rock and get super baked. Janet was in a mood because Oliver was scheduled to work and unable to attend. Still, she threw on a t-shirt and short-shorts and headed out. She sulked as the fireworks started. It was a great location; the boys werent kidding. From high rock they could see at least seven different towns fireworks displays. It might have even been romantic if she had someone to share it with... Then suddenly, there he was, smiling at her. Oliver had begged off from work early. His boss had taken pity on him. He sat next to her and boldly took her hand as the fireworks boomed above them. When the show ended, the group started back down the mountain smoking yet another joint. They got turned around once or twice, finding it funnier each time, running through the dark to get back to where theyd been. Janet didnt care. They could stay lost forever if the company stayed the same. When the gang came across a small, moonlit lake in the middle of the woods, the idea of skinny dipping was floated. It was met by surprisingly few female objections. The boys and girls undressed behind different bushes, then waded out into the initially freezing water that turned lukewarm once youd been in a few minutes. Janet and Oliver found each other in the water. They held hands again and Janet knew it was coming. She would finally be kissed. She licked her lips gently in anticipation as Oliver leaned in. Before they could connect, a twig snapped nearby. Someone was spying on them! Janet looked up to see her baby sister, crouched behind a log and trying to stay hidden. Janet had never been more furious in all her life. Lynn, she screamed, stomping out of the water. Get the hell out of here, you peeping tom! Lynn ran for the hills. Chapter Forty -- August, 1967 (Procol Harum – “A Whiter Shade of Pale”)
Chapter Forty
-- August, 1967
Procol Harum C A Whiter Shade of Pale
It was early August and the Benson children were already feeling the summer coming to a close. Friends fell by the wayside as families left early, the beaches became less crowded, and summer romances began to fizzle. Except for Janet and Oliver who had started spending every waking moment together. So much so that Lynn was getting concerned. I saw them at the drive-in -- they were sharing a soda! she tattled at breakfast one morning.
Janet turned bright red, smacking her sister. You take that back!
Janet, dont hit your sister! Sandra moaned, reaching for the coffee. She was well put together in a red and white checker dress but was fighting off a vicious hangover.
Keep it down, your mothers not feeling well! William barked from behind his newspaper.
Im telling the truth! Lynn said, cradling her sore arm.
Sandra rubbed her temples. True or not, hes a nice boy. But do you really think he fits in with you and your friends?
What does that mean, mother?!
Isnt he... I dont know, kind of poor?
Mom! Janet balked.
Doesnt he work at that shop?
Williams newspaper came down. Whats this about a boy?
Janets been seeing a boy who works down at the ice cream place.
Williams brow furrowed. Seeing? What does that mean? I dont want you seeing anybody.
Well, too bad! Its not your life, dad! Janet dramatically slammed her hands down onto the table and stormed out of the room.
**
Nick had steered clear of Mrs. Connerty since that day in her bungalow when she undressed in front of him. But Eileen had been after Sandra to send her boy over once again to help move some stuff. Noting her sons reluctance, Sandra had postponed until she could postpone no longer. Finally, Nick had to put his summer of candy cigarettes, Mad magazine, and cherry bombs on hold to attend to Mrs. Connerty.
She led Nick to her open bedroom closet where she had set up a step stool. She pointed to a high shelf and asked him to bring down several of her hat boxes. Nick did as he was told. The whole time, Mrs. Connerty stood in front of him (for support, she said). As Nick reached for the boxes in the far back, Eileen made sure his crotch banged into her face several times. She pretended it was business as usual.
When Nick took down the final box, a cloud of dust bunnies rained down over Mrs. Connerty. She started complaining about how shed been sick lately and if it wasnt too much trouble, before he went, could Nick grab her some VapoRub from the bathroom?
When Nick returned, Mrs. Connerty was sitting on the bed. She had undone another button on her blouse. Nick held the tub of Vicks out to her, but she just waved him closer.
I know its a lot to ask, she cooed, but could you help rub it into my chest? It doesnt work as good when I do it...
Nick nodded. He knew his mother would be mad if he was rude. He dug a glob out and started kneading it into the skin above her breasts. But he never ventured south, no matter how much she began to moan. When it got to be too much, he stood and wiped the remainder of the Vicks on his jeans. I really should be going-- he said, backing away.
But Eileen was persistent. Oh, but you havent had lunch yet C I cant very well send you back to your mother on an empty stomach, now can I? Id never hear the end of it! She called no attention to it but slowly began unfastening more buttons on her blouse. I could make you a turkey sandwich? Or a peanut butter and jelly?
She caught his eyes as she pulled her shirt open. Or maybe youre just thirsty? she said pushing his head down onto her breasts.
She suckled him there for over half an hour.
**
Camp had not been going well for Bill. The whispering behind his back had devolved into outright taunting. And he wasnt just getting it from his bunkmates. He had been the weird kid in camp ever since he chose to wear a Davy Crockett coon skin cap in his free time. In a place that was full of squares, he was turning out to be the squarest one of all. The more they teased him, the more annoying he became.
Something had to be done about it...
Since day one, Bill had been hesitant to shower in front of the others. But one massive shower room was all they had at Camp Adirondack. That meant that Lee Hannah, Bills favorite counselor, had to clear everyone else out of the showers so that Bill could clean himself in peace. It was a nuisance, but people had put up with it. Until now.
None of Bills bunkmates remembered who brought it up first, but sometime in the early morning hours after a particularly trying night with Bill, an idea was floated. What if something was done to Bills towel while he showered? The scouts laughed. But what to do?
From the far corner of the cabin, the grossest kid in their bunk sneered. We shit on it...
Heads craned to look at Louis Lepadimas, hidden in shadow on his top bunk. We shit all over it. he said, when he knew he had their attention.
That was how acne-ridden Louis Lepadimas, came to be squatting over Bills towel the next night. He had a time limit; Bill was known to be a quicker showerer, so the second they heard the water turn on, Louis threw Bills towel to the floor and went to work. This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
None of the crowd expected the performance anxiety that followed. It got so bad that Louis couldnt squeeze anything out until he heard the faucet turn off. The ticking clock seemed to work for him then. In short order, he dropped one solid log across Bills otherwise pristine white towel. Rubbing it in, he just managed to get the towel back on the hook as Bill exited the showers.
The scouts watched from afar as Bill scrubbed his face dry, leaving a long streak of shit across his forehead. When they saw this, the boys screamed with laughter. Bill put two and two together and threw the towel at his tormentors. This proved to be a strategic mistake as they immediately took off with it. He tried to catch up with them but had to stop when he got to the exit. He watched as his bunkmates ran through the camp, waving his towel.
What was that? Lee Hannah asked. He had been off to the side, smoking a cigarette.
Bill tried to keep the tears from his eyes. They stole my towel.
Oh, come on... Lee stubbed out his cig and stomped back to their bunk.
While he was gone, Bill got back in the shower and scrubbed his face clean. When Lee returned with a towel of his own, Bill wrapped it thankfully around himself and headed back to the cabin.
The culprits were laughing when he entered. But they went quiet as he crossed the room and went to his bed. Without a word, Bill got dressed into street clothes. On his way out, he passed Lee, who asked, where you going?
But Bill didnt answer. Instead, he ran to the nurses station where he found an unlocked bike in the bike rack. He didnt even bother to look around for its owner. He just stole it.
It took him half an hour to pedal into town. He had no idea what he was going to do when he got there, but he just kept going. About a block from his parents hotel, the decision was made for him when he saw what looked to be his fathers car leaving the parking lot. He decided to follow it.
There were a couple points when he almost lost William, and one scary moment when he thought his father would go onto the highway, but at the last second, he had turned back onto Lake Shore Drive. Bill raced after the car until it slowed outside a cottage on the opposite side of the lake from his parents hotel.
Bill remained hidden behind a pickup truck as his father turned into the driveway. When they saw William, several children ran out of the small, but homey, cottage to give him a hug. They climbed all over, glad he was home. Then the olive-skinned woman from the beach, the brunette Sandra saw, came out and kissed William warmly on the mouth.
Bill watched it all, unsure of what it was he was seeing. His father seemed to know these people. And what was worse, he seemed to know them well. Bill noted how happy his father looked. He had never picked him or his siblings up and played with them like that...
Bill knew now why he could never measure up. His whole life he wondered what he lacked in his fathers eyes. It wasnt because of any shortcomings in him. It was simply because he wasnt one of these kids.
Bill was about to leave when a straggler came out of the cottage, an older brother of the little ones. Oliver gave his father a mature and hearty handshake. William clapped him on the back and led the others inside. He was almost in the door when he glanced across the street and saw Bill standing by his fallen bicycle.
William told the others hed be inside soon, that he had just forgot something in his car. He started to jog over to his son, but Bill bolted, picking the stolen bike up and pedaling like his life depended on it.
It started to rain halfway through his ride, and he arrived back at camp soaking wet. The rest of his bunkmates were at afternoon activity. The cabin was empty, save for Lee Hannah. He was reading in bed, but stood when he saw the state Bill was in.
What happened? he asked.
Bill stood only a few steps in from the doorway, a puddle slowly forming around his shoes. When he didnt answer, Lee made his way over. Are you okay? he asked, quieter this time. Bill shivered. He didnt know why he did it, but he hugged Lee.
The counselor was taken aback at first, then slowly patted him lightly on the back. They stood there like this for some time; Bill crying and Lee not knowing what to do.
**
William waited on the precipice of the Sagamores Imperial Suite, the one his family had rented for the summer. He was out in the hallway, unwilling to enter. He had planned to push this until the end of August, but having Bill catch him like that made things complicated. He knew what he had to do, though he didnt like being pushed into it.
William used his key. He found Sandra in the kitchenette, cleaning and listening to Count Basie at a deafening level. He spoke quickly and assertively, told her that they had drifted apart. She didnt hear him until the third sentence but knew from his face that he was serious. She turned the record player off with a start. He repeated the last thing he had said and she began to cry.
When William tried to pack a bag and leave, she fell to the ground, gripping his leg so hard that he was forced to drag her towards the door.
He looked down at her, disgusted. After cautioning her towards dignity, he pushed her away, slamming the door behind him as she wept into the carpet.
**
Across town, Williams son and daughter found themselves alone for the first time in quite a while. Ever since her sister had interrupted their first kiss, Janet had found it hard to get one-on-one time with Oliver. There were always people around. But not now.
They were the first of their friends to arrive at the EZ-mart parking lot. It seemed meant to be, especially since Oliver had said he was going to be late because his dad was in town.
Janet felt the moment had a lot to live up to. Growing up, her parents love story was something she aspired to; a 12-hour marathon blind date that ended in a proposal beneath the same Penn Station clock that they had first met under earlier in the night.
But something about this, here and now, felt right...
Oliver smiled at her and they laughed, nervously approaching one another saying inane things and half-sentences, until they were within touching distance. They floated towards each other, Janet leaning forward on her tip-toes in the bright summer light to kiss him on the lips. When they finally connected, Janet sighed. She couldnt help it.
She had little to compare it to, but as far as first kisses went, this seemed pretty great. When they were through, Oliver stepped back, grinning like a fool. He did not realize that he was now standing on Lake Shore Drive. And that a truck was about to hit him.
From where Lynn was hiding, spying on her sister, she was the only one who saw what was about to happen. She stood to yell out a warning but was drowned out by the sound of the impact. She went silent as a streak of blood whipped across her face. She blinked, red in her eyes, unable to move.
Janet stared at the empty space where her first love previously stood. She hadnt reacted yet. It was too inconceivable to acknowledge. Things like this had never found their way into her life. She continued to stand there, long after the ambulance arrived.
Long after Lynn had stumbled home...
Back at the Sagamore, Lynn threw herself into the shower and scrubbed at her blood-smeared face until it was red and raw. No matter how hard Lynn rubbed though, she couldnt ever get clean enough.
By the time she got out of the shower, Sandra was packing like a woman possessed. Lynn tried to tell her mother what had happened, but Sandra just took it as her not listening.
Get packed! she insisted.
Her mother looked manic. She was restless and sweating profusely, her hair tied back by a Rosie the Riveter headscarf. Lynn did as she was told. So did Nick after he took the temperature of the room and realized that now was not the time to disobey.
As they loaded their bags into the familys Cadillac, Janet finally arrived. Sandra told her to get in the car, that she had already packed for her. Janet moved to object, but in the end only sunk into the back seat, staring straight ahead.
Securing the bags to the roof, Sandra realized she would now be living the horror that was life as a single mother. She climbed into the drivers seat, which was an odd sight for her kids. As she pulled out of the hotels driveway, Nick asked, Were not leaving, are we? Wheres dad?
But Sandra didnt even blink. Who cares? was all she said. Chapter Forty-One -- August, 2002 (Rolling Stones – “Paint it Black”) Chapter Forty-One -- August, 2002 Rolling Stones C Paint it Black Lynn took another drag of her cigarette, like shed been doing throughout her story. When he went back to that woman, she wanted nothing to do with him. She heard who Oliver had been spending his time with and blamed dads other family for her sons death. My father spent the next five months begging my mother to take him back. Sandras animosity at the Christmas party finally made sense. Five months? Whered he live that whole time? He was down in Marathon, Florida deep sea fishing and having a nervous breakdown. Jesus... I exhaled long and hard. I think its safe to say that that was the worst summer vacation story I ever heard. Lynn laughed, grimly. Im kind of jealous of Nick though... I added, smiling. Lynn immediately turned on me. You mean the woman who molested him?! I wasnt expecting this reaction. Yeah... Tell me you understand that Taylor. She glared at me until I finally nodded. Lynn returned to her endless pack of cigarettes. I could sense she was done with the conversation. I wandered off. The story she told me bothered me to my core. It was jarring to have to rethink the origins of all my Aunts and Uncles, to say nothing of Mom. God, Mom... It was no wonder Janet found herself so lost in her relationships. I figured if she and I had anything in common, it was probably that. I found her sitting by herself on the patio by the pool. If I was ever going to talk to her about this, now was the time. I told her how sorry I was about what happened to Oliver. What?! she said, craning in her chair to see me. How the hell do you know that name? The way she looked at me, I could imagine her back on Lake Shore Drive. Lynn told me... I managed. That was not her story to tell! My mother screamed. Why are you so upset? Its just me... Is this fun for you, Taylor?! All these questions you keep asking about the family?! What are you hoping to find?! I just-I wanted to know about you guys! I stammered. I wanted to know about you! About why youre sad all the time-- Mom appeared blindsided. You think Im sad? Yes! And you dont have to scream at Jesse and me for us to get it! All the fight seemed to drain out of her. She sank back into her chair and stared off over the camper grounds. Love has... always been painful for me. I didnt know how to help, so I just kept quiet. But there were still so many questions I wanted to ask her. I waited for the right moment. Do you remember when I asked you about that memory I had of Uncle Nick? I pictured lost, oblivious patients wandering beige halls. I saw Nick, in a robe, seated by a windowsill. He was in bad shape. Janet nodded. Why? I recalled how I couldnt meet Nicks eyes and kept looking at that fighter jet that Mom had gotten me. Why did you buy me that plane. Was it to distract me? Is that such a bad thing? Have you ever thought about just telling me the truth? Not when you were four. And now? She sighed. What do you want to know? Youve been leaving Uncle Nick out of a lot of these stories youve been telling me. Janet started gathering her things together. Taylor, there are things that you dont need to hear. Come on, I said, following her. He had this secret life that he wasn''t too keen on letting anyone in on. There were meetings with random people in bars... She trailed off, looking away. She almost didnt say it. I think in all respects he was probably gay-- --What?! I interrupted. He knew our parents made fun of those people, so I guess he chose to keep it quiet. I shook my head, unwilling to listen. No, he loved women-- They loved him... No, I repeated, that was just something he did when he needed drugs. Come on, Taylor-- Now I was the one fleeing. Why would you say that?! Taylor, do you think that you might be-- --where''s your proof? Why would you say something like that?! Use your head, sweetie. What about Nick and Cody? I felt stupid but kept going. They were roommates! Mom shook her head, sadly. He and Aunt Sheila were always just very good friends-- Why are you saying this?! I started to walk away as she called after me. Taylor! But I kept moving. I yelled over my shoulder, Ill see you later. As she watched me go, she threw up her hands. I thought you were old enough to hear it! she said. I wandered along the trailer park grounds thinking a million thoughts at once. I used to believe adulthood was something you grew into. Now I suspected it was a lie created by those who raise you. It''s something you project onto them. Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. I walked for a while, aimlessly, but soon found my feet heading back to the community rec. room. It was mostly empty at this early evening hour; everyone having gone back to the motel to change before dinner. But I recognized a familiar face at the bar. Bill sat drinking by himself. I tried to look at my uncle in a new light. Lynns story certainly explained why William was so hard on him. It seemed that after Oliver died, William made his second oldest son pay for it. I took a seat next to Bill. Thanks for yelling at my mom earlier. He looked at me, a little bit guilty. Yeah, no one pushes my buttons like Janet... No, it''s okay, I don''t like her very much either. I eyed my uncle as he drank, letting the silence fill the air. Can I get one? I asked. Bill looked around. There was practically no one there. Even the bartender seemed to be on break. Your mother would kill me... he said, finally. Whos gonna tell her? Bill smirked. He poured me a shot, sarcastically sliding it down the bar. Youre such a rebel, he said, mocking me. I scooped it up and downed it quickly. It tasted like shit. He was drinking swill. I made a face. I need a chaser. Yeah, of course - theyre over there by the tampons. I glowered at him, annoyed. I dragged the garnish station over and fished out a couple of lemon slices. I did several shots in a row, thinking that if I could get on my uncles level then maybe I might be able to get what I needed out of him. Bill watched me down the vodka, a bemused expression on his face, curious to see how far I would take it. After about the sixth shot, he waved me off. Alright take it easy, maybe eat a couple olives so you dont puke. I could have been more tactful, but in the end, I just blurted it out. Aunt Lynn told me about your old camp counselor... Bill dropped his head, irritated. Jesus, and you were one of the relatives I could stand. He was quiet for a moment before sipping his drink. Let me guess - you want to know what everybody wants to know, right? Did he touchme? Bill laughed, brutally. No, what he did was much worse. He made me believe that I had a friend. Even gave me his address to stay in touch. But when I showed up at his door he acted as if it was the weirdest thing in the world. The way he looked at me... said he was afraid for his girlfriend... like I was dangerous! Maybe people wouldnt think that if you didnt keep to yourself all the time. Oh, youre one to talk! he said, howling. Fuck you! I said, reeling from the insult. Youre starting to get a little loud, nephew... Why are you being like this? I demanded. I already know about Nick! You''ll have to be more specific. My wayward brother did a lot of shit. Bill staggered to his feet and lit a cigarette. He finished his drink and started to leave. I know about him being gay... Bill slowed, halfway to the door. And that he didn''t die from cancer. Bill turned around. He made his way back to the bar but didnt sit. So, the big stuff... Tell me everything they haven''t told me. Trust me kid, to know someone is to be disappointed by them. Please... I implored him. Dont beg. Jesus, you''re just like your mother - you always want what you cant have. And that''s why you want it. He tried to leave once more. Enjoy the bottle. Im gonna go. Drinkings more fun on your own anyway. I felt the opportunity slipping away. I called after him. If I don''t know what''s wrong, I can''t fix it-- Bill laughed at that and stalked back over. You wanna fix my problems?! Doesn''t that mean you think you''re better than me? What makes you think there''s something wrong with me, huh?! You little shit. He lit another cigarette and breathed the smoke in my face. I was quite drunk by then and willing to give it right back. I always thought life was supposed to get better. But looking at you now, I know thats not true. One things for sure though... I won''t end up like you. I tried to take another sip, but Bill snatched the bottle from my hand. You kidding?! You already are me! The black sheep, the outcast... When he headed out, I slid off the stool to follow him. Shouldnt somebody tell Nannie how her son really died? Bill snapped. He spun around, frantically grabbing for the scruff of my shirt. He pulled back to punch me but stopped just inches away from my face. I smiled, drunkenly. You would punch me, wouldn''t you?! He let go of my collared shirt and pushed me away. I knew I shouldnt have, but by then I was feeling no pain... I laughed. He looked up suddenly, aiming to wipe the smile off my stupid face. Did you know that we killed him? That we stuck a pillow over his face until he couldn''t breathe anymore? My mouth sagged. I didnt want to hear any more. But Bills smile matched the one I had previously worn. Hey, you wanted to know... From behind me came a voice. Bill... why?! I turned to see my mother by the door. She had entered so quietly that neither of us had spotted her. She had tears in her eyes. Bill answered. Because no matter how hard I tried to get their attention, no matter what I did, they only cared about you-- --That''s not true! Janet insisted. But Bill was too far gone to care. --And they only cared about Nick and they only cared about Lynn I meant, why tell Taylor?! Bill shrugged his shoulders and set out into the dusk. He came from you, didnt he? I tried to storm past my mother, but she attempted to stop me-- Taylor, he was in pain! I dont care! You should! What did you want me to say? That you didn''t know your uncle at all?! You could have helped him! You don''t think we tried? That we tried until we were blue in the face?! Not hard enough-- I know its hard, but we move on. Its what we do! I blew past her but turned back in a fit of anger. You know what?! I hope I never get old! Because I look around at all you people and you know what? You all look fucking sad to me! You look disappointed. I hope I never end up like you. I don''t have to do things the way you did them. I''m gonna make the right decisions in my life-- Oh, because you''re doing such a good job so far! Why aren''t you madder?! If I had been dealt the hand that you''ve been dealt-- --why? I love my life-- You do not love your life -- how could you?! You resent me! Because I''m young and I have my life ahead of me. But you shouldn''t - I got nothin'' goin'' for me! You think you''re the unluckiest boy who ever lived! You don''t see what I see... boarding school, the country clubs, a loving family-- --I never asked for any of this! I never asked you to spend a cent on me! You didn''t have to Taylor! I didnt want to be sent away! You sent me away! You gave up on me! We didnt know how to help you! she screamed. I didnt know what to say. I stood there, crying, while Mom spoke. You just... you scare me sometimes because you remind me so much of him... of Nick... How could Nick scare you?! He could be dangerous. You remember that fire at Bishop, dont you? That was an accident. No, it wasnt. You think he was just caught sneaking a cig with friends? He was lighting matches and dropping them down the laundry chute! I thought about William sitting on a bench outside the Headmasters office saying, I cant do this again, Nick. Janet continued. And that memory you have of Uncle Nick at rehab? It wasnt a rehab, sweetheart, it was an asylum. No... I said, shaking my head. He was paranoid. He saw horrible things everywhere, heard animals scratching around in the walls-- I turned pale suddenly. What did you say? How could we tell you, Taylor?! How could we tell you that you grew up idolizing the wrong person?! Who taught you how to ride a bike? Who let you grow up at their house?! You liked Nick because he was a child! Because he never grew up! Then why did you kill him?! We didnt kill him. We helped him die! He asked us to in Bermuda. Said he was afraid of how bad it was going to get! He made us promise! You didnt have to. I tried to flee once more, but mom caught up to me. Taylor, my brothers made all the wrong decisions in life. Please dont let this ruin you-- She went to hug me, but I pushed her away. When she tried to do it again, I ran. Images kept coming to me. I saw Sheila cleaning up after hospice had taken Nicks body away. I wondered if she found the pillow used to silence him. All I wanted was to go back, back before I knew any of this ever happened. To a time when I had three parents... I sprinted until I was out of breath. Until I was doubled over and sucking in air. I was near the parking lot that overlooked the creek where I had seen my old friends, the alligators. I prayed that one of them would climb up the ditch wall and take me out of my misery. It would be so easy to climb down the hill and wade into the water... If what Mom said about Nick was right, then there might be a little animal in all of us. Trying to deny it just made it want to come out even worse. We are human beings that eat and shit and fuck and piss and there are still some people who can''t seem to reconcile that. They go on believing that we can be perfect every day for the rest of our lives, if only we try hard enough. Well, I was done trying. All these neuroses feeding each other, balanced in perfect stasis and it was so clear to me that if one of them got better, then maybe they all could. But what did I know? I was only seventeen. Chapter Forty-Two -- August, 2002 (Alphaville – “Forever Young”) Chapter Forty-Two -- August, 2002 Alphaville C Forever Young I returned to the motel late, after Mom had gone to bed. She rolled over when I came in the room and tried to talk to me but gave up after I wouldnt respond. I wanted what had become the worst day of my life C even worse than the day I tried to kill myself C to be over and done with. I laid down on the other king bed and fell into a restless sleep. When I woke early, I didnt even try to go back to bed. I showered and got dressed, heading out to the reunions goodbye breakfast alone. I was early, the staff were still setting up chairs. I thought I was the first person there but was surprised to find Uncle Kev already waiting in the corner. I should have figured Kev would be there, his numerous power naps throughout the day nearly guaranteed he wouldnt sleep through the night. Clearly, Mom had gone crying to Lynn the night before, because he cornered me in line at the buffet. I dont want to talk about it, okay? I said, cutting him off before he could even start. Just let me say my piece and Ill get out of your hair. I reluctantly nodded when it became clear he wasnt going away anytime soon. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road. Im sure youd die before you ever listened to me, but... what you heard last night? Im not saying you were too young to hear it, but maybe you can never be old enough to hear something like that. We all know what Uncle Nick meant to you-- I think he found me annoying... Kevin looked at me, surprised. Youre no more annoying than any other kid. I asked him a question I needed answered. Why did they do it, Kev? Taylor, what would you have had them do? Nothing? Why, so he could have suffered more? So, you knew about it? Lynn told me, yes. And youre okay with it? Im okay with less pain in the world. Yeah, I am. Im just sorry you had to go through this... I suppose I should grow up and be serious. But Kev just shook his head. The world is filled with humorless people C why would you want to be another one? All Im saying is, you spent all this time finding out about your familys mistakes. Who cares what we did or didnt do? Stop looking back. Go and live your life. By the door of the mess hall, my mother waited. She had seen Kevin and I doing what she could not: talking peacefully. She stood there, not wanting to break the spell. When I saw Lynn come up beside her to hold her hand, Kevin shared, you know she thinks of you as another one of her kids, right? She does? I asked, bewildered. Kev nodded. People had started to arrive, so we turned back to the food line and grabbed plates. I ate quickly, sitting by myself before the final send-offs began. When I finished, I decided to walk back to the motel to pack. But packing I found would not be necessary... Janet had already done it for me. Epilogue -- May, 2003 (Stills-Young – “Long May You Run”) Epilogue -- May, 2003 Stills-Young C Long May You Run In my Senior year, I was able to get into a couple mid-tier colleges. I decided to put them off. On paper, I was taking a gap year before college to explore the west coast. But what I hadnt told anyone yet was that I actually planned to move to California. My whole life was ahead of me. And there was still something to do about that. All I needed to not be a failure, was to try. A few days before I left, Kevin caught up with me after one of the Sunday dinners that had just recently been reinstated. He threw an arm around me. If youre in a jam out there and you need money, give me a call. I responded, Thats about the nicest thing anyones ever said to me. He smiled and ruffled my hair, which if Im being honest, I could have done without. After graduation, I packed what few things I could call my own into Moms old Volvo. She had just bought a new one with Nannies inheritance. I said goodbye to Jesse. Take care of Mom. She needs it. Jesse told me she would. She was freshly home from dieting school (Nannies inheritance again) and weighed 25 lbs. less. Mom couldnt have been prouder of her. I was just happy that she was happy. This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. I guess I was miffed that the rest of the Vanowens didnt show up to see me off because I started bitching about them for old times sake. I thought that me hating my family was original, that no one had ever felt the way that I felt about those closest to me. Now I think it might be the oldest story. I knew that I would write about these people for the rest of my life. Though I doubted it would do anyone any good. I dont suppose theyre much different than anyone else, Mom said. You have to just let them be themselves... to let them be in the pain theyve chosen for themselves... Even to the end, she spoke in Overeaters Anonymous truisms. I knew we were getting close to the time I was supposed to leave. How could I tell her that I had to go away if only to come back as someone I could be proud of? Maybe she already knew. All this talk about being somebody, she said, its really me you dont want to end up like, isnt it? I tried to tell her that I didnt care about any of that. But I knew she did, so I stayed quiet. Instead, I just hugged her. Uncle Kevin was right. I was done looking back. But I wasnt running away. For the first time in my life, I was running towards something. I thought I might even stop in and see Eddie on my way out of town. I got in the drivers seat. Remember, Mom said, you can always come home. I didnt know why this felt like goodbye for good. I was leaving behind everything embarrassing that had ever happened to me. I didnt see the years of hard times ahead of me, I just saw the possibility of it all. As I tried to pull away, Mom stopped me one last time. You know, if they lined up all the little boys in the world... she began. I know, mom. I said. I know.