Black Star Cross - 46. Breakup and Breakdown (Part 3)

Black Star Cross

Chapter 46: Breakup and Breakdown (Part 3)

“What in heavens brings you here?” she asked, ushering me inside.

“Quite frankly, I don’t know myself,” I replied.

“And where’s Anthony?” she continued.

“Anthony and I aren’t joined at the hip, you know,” I said, evading answering her question.

“Did you two have a fight?”

Man, she’s good. Can she read minds, too?

“No, Emmy.”

“Well that’s good. Though all couples have fights every now and then. It’s part of being married.”

“We aren’t married, Emmy!”

“No, but you two sure act like it.”

The thought almost sickened me. The wedding scene. Either of us in a dress. I shuddered in pure terror and disgust. Anthony would never go through with it anyways.

“Would you like some cookies?” she offered. “Maybe something to drink?”

“I’m good, thanks,” I replied, getting a little fed up with all the formalities. “Where’s Stephanie and Erik? The house seems a little too quiet for them to actually be here.”

She laughed. “Oh they’re here somewhere. Believe it or not, they’re actually well behaved children. Stephanie’s probably playing house with her Barbie dolls, and Erik is probably reading his comic books, thinking how cool it would be to be Superman. They do have quiet activities, along with the loud ones.”

She sat at the kitchen table.

“Now then, I don’t believe that you would come here without a reason.”

Wow. Straight to the point, huh? I sat down as well.

“Like I said, I don’t really know why I’m here myself. I was just walking, and suddenly I was at your front doorstep.”

“I see,” she said, sipping on her cup of, what I was guessing, tea. All old women drink tea, right? It’s like an unspoken rule or something. “In my experience,” she continued. “I’ve always found that the heart knows more about the person than the mind. So it was your heart that led you here. Now all you have to do is have your mind listen to your heart. What is your heart trying to say?”

Her mystic words confused and befuddled me. All I could hear my heart doing was pump blood. And that’s really sickening once you stop and think about it. Damn you, anatomy class!

“I’m afraid that my skeptic mind seems to be shutting its proverbial ears to whatever my heart is saying, when it’s not pumping blood into atriums or out of ventricles, that is.” I answered. I could just see Anthony’s eyes glaze over from confusion at that statement.

She just smiled at me. “I’m sure that when the time is right, you’ll know why you came here. I believe that everything happens for a reason, Shawn. And this is no exception.”

“Well I hope to find the answer to this dilemma as well.”

“I hope you do, too,” She took another sip from her teacup. “It may help if I knew what you were doing before you came here.”

“I was walking, like I said.”

“I mean before that as well, dear.”

It was decision time. Should I tell her about my most recent fight with Mom? Should I tell her about mine and Anthony’s falling out? Or about Keith? Or Brett? Would she object? Call my house? Berate me? What would she do?

“Well, I kinda got into an argument with my mom,” I said, deciding that she looked like a trustworthy soul.

And so I spent the next half an hour describing all that’s been going on in my life for the past week or so. Everything just seemed to spill out of me. I know that this was starting to look like a cheesy confession scene out of some poorly written story, but I didn’t seem to care at the time. It felt really good to vent to somebody. And Emmy just sat there, in silence, taking everything that I had to say into her. I didn’t want to burden her, of all people, with my troubles, but I guess my heart didn’t really know who else to turn to. Was this why I suddenly found myself at Emmy’s house? Was this what my heart was trying to tell me?

Finally, I decided to pause and catch my breath. I had decided to conveniently leave out some of the things that have been going on lately, namely the whole Brett fiasco and Keith’s subsequent breakdown. I had also toned down the whole situation with Mom.

“Well, it seems like you have a lot on your plate, dear,” Emmy said.

“Tell me about it.”

“Let me tell you something, Shawn. Back when you came to stay with us, I had the doctors tell me what the situation was, concerning you. I wasn’t just going to let any child stay in my house, Anthony’s friend or not. So I know all about the troubles you and your mother were having. I was hoping that, by the end of the probation your mother was put under, you two would be seeing eye-to-eye again. Oh but, it doesn’t look like that’s happened,” she said, her face taking the form of one of deep disappointment.

“She doesn’t understand anything, Emmy.” I said on my defense. “She doesn’t know what I’ve had to go through, even before all of this shi...stuff happened.”

“Have you ever tried talking to her?”

“Psssh. Like she would listen to any of it. According to her, I’m just some ‘failed son’ that didn’t come out right.”

“Now Shawn, I know she doesn’t think of you like that,” she reprimanded.

“You’ve only spoken to her once, and that was just a formality,” I reminded her. “People lie. No offence, but I don’t see why people have such high optimism like yourself. You only end up giving your hopes up for nothing.”

“The world isn’t out to get you, dear,” she replied, this time taking on her motherly voice. “And ‘optimists’ are not just flighty daydreamers, staring at the sky, wishing how they could fly. They believe and trust, and have a good sense of the world around them, and when their beliefs and trusts are reciprocated, that makes them feel all the more better, about themselves and those around them.”

I was starting to get sick of her sappy, everybody-hold-hands-and-sing-a-song ideals.

“But,” she continued. “Optimism, sadly, isn’t for everybody. Some people out there are so damaged by events in their lives that they just can’t see things the same way optimists do. I fear that this may be your case.”

She stayed silent for a moment or two, clearly contemplating her next words.

“When I spoke to the doctors, I asked about the father of the child I was about to take in. Shawn dear, I know what happened to your father.”

What.

“You have NO RIGHT to know any of that!”

The.

“What made you think that you had the right to pry into my personal life?!”

Fuck.

“So what did you learn, huh?! That he never had a chance at survival? That he was so mangled up in tubes and wires that his own family couldn’t recognize him? That his family burst into tears at the mere sight of him? That his only son internalized it so much that to this day, and to the day of his grave, he will ALWAYS blame himself for it?!?” I yelled, not caring that Stephanie and Erik could probably hear me.

“Shawn, calm down,” she said in a fucking calm tone. “I know that your father is a big issue for you...”

“Gee, what made you think that?!” I said, sarcastically.

“But I think that if you were to just talk things out with your mother...” she continued.

“What did I just say about that?! She wouldn’t listen!”

“Shawn, you’re not even giving her a chance. Maybe she won’t be as harsh as you think she might be.”

“Or maybe it’ll go exactly like I expect it to go,” I countered. “That’s it. I’m done talking about this.”

“Very well,” she said. She surprised me with her willingness to drop the subject. I had expected her to put up more of a fight. “I know you’ll do what’s best in the future. You’re a good boy, Shawn. You just don’t seem to believe it yet.”

I rolled my eyes. I think I know myself pretty well by now. Especially more so than Emmy, who’s only known me for a little over a month, if that.

“I think it’s time I had a little ‘chat’ with Anthony,” I said, changing the subject. “I would greatly appreciate it if you could drive me to him. I can’t exactly call him at the moment.”

“Why not?”

“Well, a). I don’t have my cell phone with me. And b). He probably isn’t even at his house right now.”

“Where is he?”

“Probably at Brett’s.”

“Oh? You know Brett? One of the nicer friends of Anthony’s, I say. Always has that big smile on his face. Reminds me of my husband...” she said, her eyes starting to go starry, a sure sign that she’s experiencing a flashback or two in her head right now.

“I don’t mean to interrupt your trip down memory lane,” I spoke out. “but Brett...”

Oh shit. I forgot that I didn’t tell her about Brett’s breakdown. I don’t want to pile any more of my problems onto her. What’s a good lie?

“Well, he’s been really sick for the past couple of days, according to Anthony. So much so that he’s practically bed-ridden. I’m pretty sure that Anthony’s over there right now, along with the rest of his friends, either to give Brett some emotional support, or just to pile his homework on top of his bed,” I lied, jokingly for the last bit.

“Oh I’m sure they are,” she agreed. “But if Anthony’s over there checking up on Brett, don’t you think that now isn’t the best time to talk to him?”

“I see it as a win-win situation. If he wants to talk, then we talk. If he doesn’t, then I can just stay there and keep an eye on Brett as well. Anthony’s friends are my friends, and all that,” I lied again. Like hell his friends were my own.

“Well I’m sure that he could use the help,” she said, warmly. “Let me just tell Stephanie and Erik where we’re heading.”

“Okay.”

“Oh, and Shawn?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t think that I haven’t forgotten about your running away again. I’m not THAT old. I’ll be sure to bring you home before the end of the day.”

I smiled at her.

“You’ll have to catch me first.”

She seemed taken aback by my comment, but nevertheless went to tell the kids where we’re going. I’m sure that they’re old enough to not burn down the house in the however many minutes we’ll be gone. I’m assuming that Emmy knows where Brett’s house is. Or else we’ll be getting nowhere fast.

~~~

While driving to his house (it turns out that she has taken Brett home before in the past when sleepovers were arranged at her house), I kept thinking that Emmy was going to suddenly pull up to my house and take me inside. I wouldn’t put it past her, seeing as I gave her that vague threat before we left. Surprisingly, we eventually pulled up to a rather uninteresting house. I would’ve thought that Brett’s house would be a gold-plated mansion with a dozen fountains and an 18-hole golf course in the back. It didn’t look any different from any of the other houses surrounding it. As soon as I got out of the car, Emmy rolled down the window and spoke.

“I’ll be back in an hour to pick you up and drive you home. If you’re not here, I will inform your mother.”

“Okay, okay,” I relented, still thinking about making a break for it in little under an hour from now.

“I’ll see you then,” she said, and then backed out of the driveway and headed back to her house.

I stared at the door. It was a nice day out, so the door was open but the screen door was closed. I hadn’t thought of anything to say if I ran across either of Brett’s parents. I assumed that Anthony would just answer the door and that we could talk. I knew that Anthony was here. His car was in the driveway. But now that I think about it, it’s much more likely for one of Brett’s parents to answer the door rather than Anthony. Plus, it’s not like I can just barge right on in a stranger’s house unannounced. For all I know, Brett’s dad could be a gun-toting maniac who shoots people who don’t knock.

Carefully, I knocked on the front door, which was silly, seeing as it was already open. Gathering my wits, I knocked harder. A middle-aged woman came to the door. She looked disheveled. Her hair was a mess, she looked like she hadn’t slept in days, her eyes were red, a sure sign of excessive crying, and she just exuded an aura of misery and depression. Like she was just about defeated in some long-winded battle.

“Yes? Who are you?”

“Oh, um, my name is Shawn. I’m a friend of Anthony’s,” I said, trying to come up with some believable story that’ll allow me to get in. “I heard that Brett was...um...” I didn’t know if I should say it or not in front of his mom.

“Yes, he is,” she answered for me.

“Yeah. I’m sorry to hear that. I thought that I could stop by and see if there was anything I could do to help. I figure that Anthony...and Brett could use as much support as possible.”

She smiled weakly.

“That’s very kind of you. I don’t think that Brett’s ever mentioned your name before. It may help him if he knows that other people out there care about him. Please, come on in,” she said softly. I doubt she had much of her real voice left after all that crying she’d obviously done.

She directed me as to where to go. She said that she would make some coffee for herself, Anthony and me. I let her be and made my way up the stairs. Before I reached the top, I heard voices. Anthony’s, to be precise.

“C’mon dude,” he pleaded. “Just talk to me. You haven’t said a word since yesterday.”

I peaked around the corner. Anthony was sitting, back opposite to the door, which I assumed was Brett’s. Even he showed signs of puffy eyes. His face matched Brett’s mom’s.

“Ain’t nobody here, dude,” he said, seemingly to nobody in particular now. “You have my word on that. You don’t even have to open the door, dude. Don’t even have to come out. Just...fucking say something, please! Let me know that you’re still alive in there, dude.”

I was about to make my way towards Anthony when I heard some mumbling. Anthony must’ve heard it too, because his eyes lit up almost immediately and he repositioned himself so that his head was against the door.

“What was that, dude? I couldn’t hear you. I swear nobody else is here! I swear I won’t tell anybody anything if you don’t want me to! Just...please, tell me what you said,” he begged.

Neither I nor Anthony heard a response.

“Dude, I don’t care if you open the door, take me, and keep me hostage. I just wanna talk, dude.”

“Just go, Anthony!” came a voice from within the door. “There’s nothing you can do.”

“That’s not true, dude,” He sighed. “Look, I haven’t exactly been telling the whole truth to you guys either. I’ve lied about some things. Everybody does. If you’ll just tell me what’s bugging you, I swear I’ll tell you some of my own secrets.”

“Ha. Like I’ll believe that.”

“I’m telling the truth, Brett, I swear.”

“You sure seem to swear a lot.”

“‘Cause I think it’s the only way to get you to trust me, dude.”

Silence once again. What was Brett doing? Or thinking?

“I can take you on in a fight. You know that,” he finally said.

“I don’t plan on fighting you. And I know you can take me. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if you could use your own mattress as a weapon against me.”

Neither of them said anything again. It almost looked like a showdown between the two of them. I could only wonder what it was like when the rest of Anthony’s friends were over.

Suddenly, I heard a noise. It sounded like the lock on the door was being undone. Anthony heard the noise too, and immediately backed up a bit, standing up and facing the door. The door opened just a tad.

“Dude, I swear. No one else is here. But Keith is probably rounding up Liz and Wes to come here soon.”

“Get in now,” Brett demanded.

The door opened slightly more, and Anthony walked inside, closing the door behind him. At that, I quickly sprang from my hiding spot and went to where Anthony just was. Wait...what’s this? The door was still slightly open. But I just heard Anthony close the door behind him. How did he...? But I can just barely see through the small opening. I could see Anthony sit down next to the bed, inviting Brett to do the same. A second later, I saw Brett sit down next to Anthony. They sat in silence for a minute or two, not even looking at each other. Suddenly, Brett started sobbing and leaned into Anthony’s shoulder. Anthony, in turn, held Brett’s head against his shoulder.