An Unknown Journey - 2. Chapter 2

Our drive to the hotel went by quickly, considering the circumstances. There wasn’t much talking between my mom and I. There normally never was.

“Hey Shelly,” the receptionist says at the hotel. We’re here so often they know us by name. Great. “Need a room tonight?”

“Yeah, that’d be great,” my mom says, visibly worn and ushering in a half smile. I hated seeing her like this. The bags under her eyes showed the sleep deprivation from work. The wrinkles around her eyes were becoming more and more prevalent. Her smiles seemed more forced. This was killing her.

“Alright, here you go Shelly,” the receptionist said. “You guys are on the second floor. Room 224. And as always, if you need anything, call down.”

“Thanks Carrie,” my mom quickly says as we pick up our bags and head on up to our room.

When we get into the room, mom gives me a look. It was a look of frustration. Hopelessness.

“Andy… I want you to love your dad. I know it’s hard with how he treats us—“

“Mom, quit. Just… stop,” I quickly say. “I am so sick of having to do this all because dad is an ass. Dad needs help. And if he doesn’t get help, I’ll push him until he really fucks up. And when that happens, we won’t have to worry about him anymore.”

“Andy, your father would never hurt either of us. Don’t you dare suggest that he would.”

“What? Are you kidding me,” I begin to scream. “Are you really that oblivious to this? He’s dangerous when he gets like this. He doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing! If he doesn’t hurt one of us, he’s going to hurt somebody else!”

“Andy,” I hear a frantic mom say as I storm out of the room. I wasn’t going to deal with this tonight. I have the hardest time understanding her. When we’re with him and he gets like this, she stands up to him. She doesn’t take his shit. But then, 30 minutes later, when it’s just us two, she defends him. Why can’t she just tell it like it is. Dad is a fuck. He always will be.

I look down at my phone. I had a few messages, but I didn’t care. I really, didn’t fucking care.

“Fuck you,” I scream out as I throw my phone against the wall. The battery flies out as the screen spider web cracks. I wasn’t done though. I punch the wall. I feel my hand crack on the drywall as a crack works its way up the wall. I just keep punching it, ignoring the blood that is leaking out of my knuckles. The pain felt right.

“Andy! Stop,” I hear my mom scream, the words rushed and concerned. She throws her body in between the wall and me and just holds me. I cry. The cry turns into a sob. I couldn’t do this anymore.

“It’s okay… it’s okay,” she says reassuringly. “We’ll be fine. It’ll be alright.”

I pull my head off her shoulder and look her in her deep blue eyes. The pain in her eyes isn’t for anyone but me. She’s suffering right along with me.

I start to laugh. “Mom… I broke my phone,” I say as a grin breaks across my face and I wipe my tears on her shoulder.

“Oh that’s easily replaceable. Your hand though, bud? We better go get that checked out,” she says.

“It kinda hurts,” I say, looking at it for the first time and laughing a bit. The blood wasn’t the worst. Bruises formed over and the distinction between knuckles wasn’t even there. I couldn’t make a fist. Skin hung off spots where knuckles used to be.

“Look at the wall,” she says.

I peek up and am shocked at what I see. Blood stains the wall; a hole had formed where I found consistency in my strikes.

“Holy shit…” I say.

“Hey. Watch your language you shit. And, yeah, we’ll talk to Carrie about that… But… that’s all after we go to the hospital. I think you might have broken your hand, bud,” she says.

“Doesn’t matter what happened to my hand. I have a game on Thursday,” I say with a completely straight face. Yet, we both know I was entirely sarcastic. I knew I had fucked baseball up. I’d get back into the game when I could.

“Should’ve thought about that before you went Hulk on the wall,” she says as she lightly ruffles my hair and we both let out a laugh. “Head on down to the lobby. I’ll be right down with the keys and then we’ll make a trip to the hospital.”

She lightly kisses me forehead as she heads back to the room and I start my journey down the steps to the lobby. My hand hung loosely by my side, the pain difficult to stand. Now that the adrenaline had passed, the pain had no cover. It was pure. It was throbbing. Kind of like the pain I felt for my dad.