Five Hundred Miles From Friona, page 32
The three of us sit for a long time without saying anything. Then I finally ask the one question that’s been running over and over in my mind. “Were y’all drinking, Rach?”
She glances at my mom then drops her head. “Yeah, but we only had one beer each,” she whispers.
That’s what I was afraid of. Brandon knew he wasn’t supposed to be drinking and he did it anyway. “Where were y’all?”
“Party at Grant Hilliard’s,” Rachel answers. “The fight was in the field next to their house.”
“Who started it?”
“Colton.” Her eyes shift to my mom again, and she says, “When we were leaving, he yelled a real rude comment about you and Brandon tore into him like rabid pit bull.”
I close my eyes and try not to cry, but a few tears fall anyway. “Oh, God,” I moan. My mother pats my back and gives Rachel a hug. Then she gets up and leaves the room without another word.
“Rach, can you spend the night with me?”
She looks at me for a few seconds. “Okay, but I want to go see Jake first. Will you come with me?”
“Sure.” I can’t turn her down. She’s my best friend, and she was there with me when Brandon had his accident.
“All right, let’s go,” she says, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. Then she pulls her keys out of her back pocket. “Those bitchy nurses will kick us out at nine.”
When we get in her car, she turns to me and says, “I ignored your messages today because I wanted to tell you in person. I hope you’re not mad.”
“I’m not mad, Rach. I’m in shock. I’m so sorry about Jake, but I’m also worried about Brandon.” And mad as hell at him.
“I know,” she sighs.
“So what happened to Colton?”
She actually laughs as she pulls out of the driveway. “Well, he was in the emergency room at the same time as Jake, and I heard he had a broken nose and a broken finger. He left the hospital with one of the policemen. I haven’t heard if they threw him in jail or not, but that little son of a bitch deserves to be there more than Brandon does.”
I look out the window, watching our neighbors’ Christmas lights go by in a blur. “What did Colton say about me?”
“Does it really matter now?” she asks, with a scowl on her face.
“No, but I want to know; morbid curiosity, I guess.”
“He yelled, ‘Hey Kirk, you through with your bitch?’ Brandon ignored him at first and then Colton yelled, ‘Cuz I wouldn’t mind banging her again if you’re done with her.’”
“That asshole!” I yell. “I never did anything with him!”
“I know you didn’t do anything with him, Leelee. He’s just a prick on a stick. If Jake hadn’t gotten between them, I think Brandon would’ve killed Colton.”
No doubt. And that’s the part that scares me to death. What will he do to me someday when I piss him off?
She finds a parking place in the visitor’s section. Neither of us say anything while we cross the parking lot. As we walk through the doors, I mentally prepare myself for what I’m about to see.
The door to Jake’s room is closed and Rachel knocks softly. Gary’s voice says, “Come on in.”
I follow Rachel inside, and I’m shocked by Jake’s injuries. His face is a swollen, bruised and bloody mess. He has an ice pack on his left cheek, which he removes. I say hello to Gary then go over to Jake. Out of habit, I reach for his hand. “I’m so sorry, Jake. I don’t know what else to say.”
“Werven,” he says through his teeth. I didn’t understand what he said and I look to Gary for an answer.
“He’s got gauze in his mouth,” Gary says.
Rachel, who hasn’t even spoken to Gary, must not have understood Jake, either, because she says, “Say it again, baby.”
“Were. Even,” Jake repeats.
“We’re even?” I ask, and Jake nods. “You mean you and Brandon?”
He nods again. It’s heartbreaking to hear that Jake thinks this is payback for Brandon’s accident. There’s no reason for a damn payback! And it’s sure as hell not my place to make apologies or even excuses for Brandon, so I switch gears. “Have they told you when you get to go home?”
Looking at me, he holds up two fingers. “Two days?”
“They might let him go home tomorrow if he’s doing better,” Gary says.
“That’s good. You’ll probably feel better faster if you’re at home,” I tell Jake.
“Her housh,” he says, pointing at Rachel.
Her house. I force a smile and a joke. “Well, if you’re letting Rachel take care of you, there’s a pretty good chance you’ll be right back in here in couple of days.”
Rachel sticks her tongue out at me. Then she kisses Jake and combs her fingers through his hair. “He knows I’ll take good care of him, don’t you, babe?”
“Mm-hum,” he mumbles. “Luf you.”
“I love you too.” She kisses his forehead. “I just wanted to see you one more time tonight, but we’re gonna run before they throw us out. Try to get some sleep, okay?”
“’Kay.”
She gives him another kiss, this time on his mouth. “I’m spending the night with Leelee, but I’ll be here in the morning.”
“G’night,” he says to Rachel then he looks at me. “Bye, Leelee.”
I don’t give him any crap about calling me Leelee but only because he’s hurt and in the hospital. “Bye, Jake. I hope you get some sleep. I’ll come see you at Rachel’s house in a couple days.”
“Don’ be mad at ‘im.”
Mad at Brandon? Oh yeah, I’m furious at Brandon and I’m afraid of him. I don’t know what else I feel right now. I’m sure when this really sinks in I’ll be crushed and sad and mad all at the same time. I pat Jake’s arm, then I tell Gary goodbye and head for the door. I hear Rachel say goodbye to Gary as she follows me out.
Once we’re in the car, I ask, “What’s the deal with you and Gary?”
She shrugs like it’s no big deal. “It’s a hate-love thing: we hate each other but we both love Jake.”
Chapter Fifty-two
Brandon
The best and worst thing about being from a small town is that you know everybody and they know you. My dad is good friends with Joe Hernandez, the cop who hauled me in on New Year’s Eve. Joe has known me all my life, and as soon as we got to the station, he called my dad. When he hung up, he said, “What the hell got into you, Brandon? Of all people, I never would have thought I’d have you in here.”
Embarrassed, I sat across from him, staring at the floor. I couldn’t believe that I had lost my shit so bad that I took it out on Jake. “Is Jake okay?”
“Not from the looks of him when they put him in the ambulance,” Joe said, shaking his head. “What’d he do to make you wail on him like that?”
“Nothing. He was trying to pull me off Colton and I….” I let it drop because I didn’t want to use my disorder as an excuse. There is no excuse for what I did. Joe didn’t say anything else, but I could tell he wanted to; he had that look that my dad gets sometimes when he wants knock some sense into me. I sat there while Joe filled out paperwork. Then my dad showed up. He and Joe went out in the hall for a few minutes and when they came back we left.
I was hoping Joe would put me in jail because I didn’t want to face my dad. I couldn’t even look at him. My dad didn’t do what I wanted him to, either, which was to yell at me or hit me or tell me what a disappointment I am. He did nothing, except drive me home and give me some ice for my busted lip and knuckles.
I’ve been holed up in my room for four days. I don’t want to see anyone, even Leanne. Especially Leanne. But I owe her something…at least a goodbye. I didn’t respond to her texts or voicemails on New Year’s Day, and I haven’t heard from her since she got home. I know she hates me. Jake and Rachel hate me too, but nobody hates me as much as I hate myself. I wish I’d never come out of the coma. It would have been better for everybody if they had let me die, and I’m pissed that they didn’t. I’m not afraid to die because dying is a hell of a lot easier than living. I want to be with Blake, happy and laughing.
“Oh, Brandon.” my mother sighs. “Honey, why are you on the floor crying?”
I don’t answer.
She sits beside me on the floor, lifts my head into her lap, and rubs my back. “I came in here to tell you that I spoke to Dr. Pressley, and she’s going to call you at two o’clock.”
“I’m not talking to her; don’t want to talk to anybody. I…want to die,” I howl. “Why didn’t y’all just let me die?”
My mom starts crying, too. “Because we love you, Brandon; we love you so much.” She kisses my head and says, “And your dad and I and Dr. Pressley want do everything we can to help you. You just have to let us.”
She didn’t mention Leanne. I don’t want to live without her, and I don’t want to live with myself, knowing that I could blow up at any second and hurt somebody else. I’ve already hurt Leanne too much and I won’t do it again.
“I don’t want help anymore, Mom. My life was over in November, and I’m tired of fighting to be normal. I’ll never be normal and I don’t want to live in this hell.”
Her fingernails dig into my shoulders and she shoves me. “Sit up and look at me!” she yells.
When I do, she shakes her finger in my face and clenches her jaws. “Don’t you dare sit there and say you don’t want to live! Your brother wanted to live but couldn’t because his body wouldn’t fight anymore. I couldn’t save Blake, but I can fight for you, Brandon. I can save you!” Sobbing loudly, she throws her arms around me and rocks back and forth, repeating, “I’ll save you” over and over and over. But what she doesn’t understand is that she can’t save me. I don’t want to be saved.
My mother and I have been lying on the floor in my room for hours. We haven’t said anything to each other since she told me she was going to save me. I heard the house phone ring a while ago and I knew it was Dr. Pressley calling. I’m sure my mom heard it too, but neither one of us moved. I really don’t know what we’re doing. I guess she’s thinking up a plan to save me. I’ve been thinking about everything that’s wrong with my screwed up, worthless life.
Kylie just came home from school. I heard her slam the door and holler, “Mama!” My mom sits up, rubs her hands over her face and looks at me. Chills run up my back. I haven’t seen my mom look so sad since Blake died.
“Kylie looks up to you, Brandon. Don’t let her see you like this.” Her voice sounds defeated, hoarse. She gets up and leaves my room, closing the door behind her. I crawl into my bed and pull the covers over my head.
Sixteen hours later, I wake up to the sound of Kylie talking and laughing while she gets ready for school. I’m starving. I didn’t eat anything yesterday, so I get up and head toward the kitchen where my mom is sitting at the table with her hands around a coffee mug. She looks terrible. She’s still wearing the clothes she had on yesterday, her hair is stringy, and she has bags under her eyes. “Didn’t you go to bed?” I ask, opening the refrigerator.
“No.” That’s when I realize that she didn’t go to bed because she was afraid that I would do something bad. “Are you feeling any better today?”
I pour a bowl of cereal and sit down at the table with her. “Not really. Is Dad up yet?”
She takes a sip of her coffee. “I think so; I heard the shower running. We want to talk to you when Kylie leaves for school.” She picks up her coffee cup and goes to pour a refill then picks up a couple of slices of bread. “Do you want some toast?”
“Yes, please.”
Kylie comes in a few minutes later and plops herself into the chair next me. She’s ready for school and smiles when she sees me. “Didn’t think you were ever gonna come out of your room.”
“Had to eat.” I tap my spoon on the side of the cereal bowl. “Third bowl and I’m still hungry.”
“You’re a pig,” she says, grinning, showing me her mouth full of gapped teeth that will have braces on them before too long. I can’t believe how much she’s grown up since I left for school. In a little over two months she’ll be eleven. “Did you save some for me?”
“Nope, ate it all,” I tease, shoving another spoonful into my mouth.
Her face screws into a pout.
“I’m just kidding, Ky. There’s half a box left.”
When Kylie leaves for school, my parents and I sit at the kitchen table with our cups of coffee. “Your mom talked to Dr. Pressley last night,” my dad says.
“Yeah, well, I’m sure Mom told you that I said some crazy stuff yesterday.” I avert my eyes. “I meant all of it.”
My dad looks at me wide-eyed and acts like he’s about to jump out of his chair. I hold my hand up. “Wait, Dad; just listen. I’ve already died once, and I wasn’t afraid. In fact, it was peaceful. Blake was there; I saw him. He was the one who told me it wasn’t time and sent me back.”
They’re both staring blankly at me, obviously trying to wrap their heads around what I’m saying, but I continue anyway. “I thought about it yesterday and I figured out that I’m jealous of how happy he is now.”
Their blank stares have turned to stunned stares. “I saw them working on me at the river. I saw Jake on his knees beside me, crying. I was standing on top of a hill looking down at them. I saw them working on me in the ambulance, and I saw a movie of my life on the ceiling of the ambulance. Y’all probably think I’m nuts, but I know I died that day, and I didn’t want to come back.”
My dad clears his throat and says, “They…thought they lost you in the ambulance.”
“The only other person I’ve told is Leanne.” I almost choke on her name, but I go on. “She believed me and y’all don’t have to, but what I’m getting to is that as much as I want to put myself out of my misery, I can’t do it.” I’m a chickenshit.
“Thank God,” my mom mutters.
“But I don’t know what to do,” I tell them as I start to cry.
Putting her hand on top of mine, my mom says, “Dr. Pressley thinks you’re suffering from depression and I agree with her. Honey, we think you need more help than we or Dr. Pressley can give you right now.”
“Brandon, what do you think you need to do to help yourself?” my dad asks.
Taking a deep breath, I stare at the table because I get the feeling that they’re going to tell me what I’m going to do. “Dad, I told you I didn’t know what to do. If I knew what to do, I would’ve already done it.”
Glancing at my dad, my mom says, “Dr. Pressley suggested a ninety-day program at a residential treatment center. There’s one near Phoenix that she highly recommends. Her good friend is the director and one of the psychiatrists there.”
Now I get it: this is like an intervention.
My dad goes and gets his laptop and brings it back to the table to show me the website. The place is called The Oasis at Rancho Verde, which sounds more like the name of a resort than a treatment center. I read the information on the screen while my mom gets up and makes another pot of coffee. On the website it looks like a nice place, and they have horses, but I’m not sure I want to go.
“Sound like a good place?” my dad asks.
“I guess.”
He gives me a hard look. “Would you be willing to go?”
“I don’t know. I’ll think about it.”
My mom is now standing behind me with her hands on my shoulders. She leans down and kisses my head. “There’s no time to think about it, honey. We’ve already arranged for you to go tomorrow.”
Now I’m getting pissed, but by some miracle it’s not rage. “You’re running my life now?”
Pushing my mother away from me, my dad leans forward and says, “We think this is something that could help you. It’ll make it easier on all of us for you to agree to go voluntarily.”
In other words, if I don’t agree, they will find a way to make me go involuntarily. “What about school, Dad?”
“School can wait until you have this under control,” my mom says, starting to tear up. “Brandon, you said you couldn’t live like this, but we can’t live like this, either. And we know that you can’t help it when you have an episode, but we can’t risk putting Kylie in that situation. And we don’t want you in another situation like…the other night.”
Seeing my mom cry again and the thought of physically hurting my little sister kills me. Hell, the only people I have left to lose are the ones who love me the most: my family. I owe them this; it’s my only option and my only chance at living a normal life. “I’ll go,” I mumble, and I hear my mother breathe a sigh of relief.
My dad pats my shoulder. “You’re making the right decision, son.”
After talking to my parents for a few more minutes, and then Dr. Pressley, I’ve accepted the fact I’m leaving for three months.
I finally go to my room and call Rob to let him know what’s going on and that my parents will be down to get my stuff. My next call is to Jake, but Rachel answers his phone.
“Uh…hi, Rach.”
“Hello.” She’s pissed. I can hear it in her voice, and I don’t blame her.
“Can I talk to Jake?”
She doesn’t answer me, but I hear her say, “It’s Brandon.”
“Hey,” Jake says.
“How’re you doin’?”
“Ribs and cheek are still sore, but I’m better,” he says. “Rachel’s a pretty good nurse.”
“I’m sorry, Jake; I didn’t realize what I was doing until it was done.”
“Yeah, well, I was afraid you were gonna kill Colton. It’s better for me to have some cuts and bruises than you getting life in prison for that little prick. Far as I’m concerned, we’re even.”
I hear Rachel say, “Bullshit” in the background. “What do you mean we’re even?”
