If You Were Wondering - Chapter Three

 

Chapter 3

                The plane landed around 8 o’clock in Albany. As I got off, butterflies started forming in my stomach. I was back in New York, and I was about to go back to a place I never wanted to be again. And for what? A split second feeling of triumph over the people back home? An “I told you so” to the bullies that told me I was nothing?

                I almost turned around and got back on the plane, but the doors were shut. I looked around the big terminal, and I felt smaller than ever. It scared me to think of what was going to happen back home. What if Hugh was worse now? What if he beat my mother worse than before because I wasn’t there to protect her?

                I felt sick to my stomach. I rushed to a bathroom and got to a toilet just in time to throw up everything I’d had since the flight, which thankfully, was just the ginger ale. My throat felt like it was on fire, and I was breathing heavily. I kneeled there for a while, my hands on the toilet bowl, waiting for my senses to come back.

After about ten minutes, I got back up and washed my face. The water was cold, and it felt good when it went down my burning throat. I looked at myself in the mirror; brownish hair with a hint of red, clear, blue eyes, a short goatee (I should probably shave), and I realized that I hadn’t really changed a lot since high school. Besides the beard, I still looked like the shy boy who ate lunch in the guidance office to get away from his tormentors.

But there was also a rigid handsomeness buried in my face. It wasn’t too obvious, but my cheekbones had emerged since high school, if only a little. I was twenty-three years old, and I was only now starting to look like a man.

Then I started to think of how Amy looked.

Back in high school, boys would ask her out all the time because they thought she was hot. Hot was never the right word for it; she was beautiful. She had creamy brown hair that shimmered in sunlight. Her eyes were deep blueish green, like the ocean. The kind someone could get lost in. I never really paid attention to her figure, because I would always stare into her beautiful eyes. They had that effect on most everyone.

As I stared at myself in that bathroom mirror and thought of her, I realized that Amy was really the only person I missed. Five years had gone by, and I hadn’t thought of anyone from home, except her. I didn’t really know if I should have been upset about that, either. Amy was my best friend, and the only one back there worth thinking about.

Then I thought about Hugh. If he was still a drunkard. If he and my mother were still together. If he still beat her. I thought about how I’d left my mother behind with that monster, and if she’d ever forgive me for that. Yes, I thought, that’s the real reason why I’m here.

I grabbed a towel from the dispenser and dried my face.  The paper was rough on my skin, but I wasn’t even thinking about it. I was shaking off all the doubt and all the worry, and I thought about the only thing worth thinking about.

. . .

The ride to Amy’s was awkward, to say the least. Tears were still coming down her face. I didn’t know what to say either. I was still shaking from the confrontation, and it broke my heart that she’d seen all of it. I didn’t feel like myself. I didn’t even know who I was anymore, and that scared me.

                Eventually I said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to�"”

                “How long has he been like that?” she asked.

                I didn’t know how to answer.

                Amy’s eyes were on the road, but I could feel her energy coming at me like a cannon ball.

                “He probably started about a month or two after he and my mom got married. He never hit me as much as my mother, though. I have no idea why that is.”

We came to a red light, and Amy stared right into me.

                “What are you going to do now?” she asked.

                I didn’t know how to answer that question either.

 

                Mr. and Mrs. Foster were waiting for us when we got back. They were sitting at the dining room table, drinking coffee in silence. Mrs. Foster looked worried when she saw my black eye, but she smiled anyway and gave me a chair. Mr. Foster patted me on the back and asked me how my senior year was going. When I think about it now, I realize that they knew about the home situation and were trying to make me feel welcome. I still really appreciate it.

                Amy sat down and handed me a cup of coffee. Her two brothers, Jason and Tyler, were in their room, playing X-Box or something, so we didn’t bother them. We could hear Jason yelling from his room, “Die, stupid aliens!” which made us all laugh. It made things a little easier.

                After we were all done with our coffee, Mrs. Foster and Amy cleared away all the mugs and went to the kitchen. When they left, Mr. Foster started asking the tough questions.

                “Mike, I only know a little bit of what your life at home is like, and I’m not going to say anything about it to anyone. As far as I’m concerned, it’s none of my business. I just want to know what’s going on, okay? You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to, but just understand that we want to help all we can.”

                I looked down at my shoes, trying to think of the right words to say.

                “I know about Hugh, though.” Mr. Foster said, a grin starting to show on his face. “He’s the biggest a*****e I’ve ever met. And stupid too.”

                I laughed. “Yeah, you’re telling me.”

                We shared a laugh, and I found the right words.

                “He hits my mother all the time over the stupidest s**t ever. One time, he beat her because she was sick and couldn’t cook dinner that night.”

                If Mr. Foster was disgusted by Hugh’s behavior, he didn’t show it. “What about you?”

                I looked down at the table. “Nothing too serious. I would never let him hit me more than once.”
                Mr. Foster nodded and thought for a moment.

                “Michael, you know you’re welcome here anytime, right?”

                I could hear Mrs. Foster and Amy doing the dishes in the kitchen. Jason and Tyler were yelling at the aliens again.

                “And if you don’t want to go back, you can always stay here for as long as you need to.”

                I hesitated. “Thank you, Mr. Foster, but I�"”

                “Call me Eric.”

                “Oh… Okay. Thank you, Eric, but I don’t think I could stay.”

                “Why not?” He sounded even more serious.

                “I just… this is your family. I don’t want to get in the way.”

He laughed at that. “Michael, you are family!”

                I hope he didn’t see me blush when I looked down at the floor again.

                “Are you sure?” I asked.

                “Absolutely.” Eric said, smiling. “Don’t worry, I talked with Andrea, and she’s completely on board. And you know that Amy would be thrilled.”

                “You haven’t told her yet?”

                “Are you kidding?” Eric’s smile got bigger now. “It was her idea.”

                I felt a big smile start to appear on my face, and Eric patted me on the back again. At that moment, I knew he was right; I really was a part of the family.

                Jason and Tyler came running down the stairs with Nerf guns. Tyler was only twelve, and Jason just turned fourteen, but you’re never too old to have a Nerf war. When Tyler and Jason saw me, they stopped and gave me a high five.

                “Whoa!” Tyler said, “How’d you get that black eye?”

                Eric started to object, but I got to him faster. “I got in a fight with a motorcycle gang.”

                Tyler’s eyes got wide, but Jason wasn’t buying it.

                “Oh yeah? You don’t look that bad.”

                I gave Jason a smile and said, “You should see the other guys.”

 

 

. . .

I picked a car from the rental lot and got it. It still had that new car smell. It was a 2010 model, but it still smelled like new. I guess they keep them cleaner than usual. I was dying for a cigarette, but I decided not to ruin the smell.

                I drove out of the lot and made my way onto the highway. Signs passed by me like they had somewhere to be. The moon was out and full, lighting the road just a little brighter, along with the lights of all the other cars on the road. I turned on the radio, and a light-hearted song was playing.

In five years’ time I might not know you
In five years’ time we might not speak
In five years’ time we might not get along
In five years’ time you might just prove me wrong.

 

I turned off the radio and drove in silence. Five years, I thought. Has it really been that long?

 

                A sign passed that said, “Oneonta: 40 miles.” I took a deep breath. I tightened my grip around the steering wheel, as if to tell myself, There’s no going back, Michael. You have to do this. The moon glowed a little brighter as I drove towards my memories.