Misdirected (17 page)

 

 

Chapter 37

Older Brothers Are Smarter Than You

On Monday I go back to school with a new plan. I've got three weeks left here. Only two weeks left to get back in the talent show and one week more to get Tess to forgive me. Even if she doesn't want to be with me. I just want her to know how sorry I am. She said in her letter that she missed me. Maybe that's still true. Maybe that will be enough for her to hear me out.

It feels like getting back into the talent show and getting Tess not to hate me are tied together. Like, if I can do one, I can do the other.

Over the next few days I leave three notes in Tess's locker saying I really need to talk to her. Nothing. Not a word back.

She just hangs with Beth, who does look at me. More with pity than anything else. Tess just pretends I don't exist.

On Thursday, Pete comes home, which gets me out of my sad, self-pitying state of mind. It's about 4 o'clock and Dad is making Pete's favorite dinner of stuffed shells and Mom is hanging up a banner that says “Welcome Home” on the front door. Pete shows up in his uniform with short hair and a massive backpack in his hand. He looks older. Further away.

Mom runs up and hugs him. He drops his pack and hugs her back, a tired smile on his face. Then Dad. Then me. And then, the girl he really missed more than any of us. Holly. She's wiggling around on the ground like an eel out of water. One second she's licking his face, the next she's on her back, and then she's running in circles around him.

Pete's the one who picked Holly out at the pound. The pound only had a three-day hold for dogs without tags. She was going to be killed later that day. He saved her life. Not that she knows that.

He gets down on the ground and lies flat on his back while Holly jumps all over him and licks his face. Then he goes to his room, puts his stuff down, and gets in the shower. He stays in there for like twenty minutes. When he comes downstairs, he's in his jeans and a T-shirt.

We all sit down to dinner. Everyone is quiet. Not in a weird way. Pete is always kind of distant his first few days back. I mean, I can't imagine what it's like going from a war zone where bombs are going off and people you know can die, to suburbia where the biggest problems are ones like mine. My ex-girlfriend won't talk to me. Sounds kind of stupid when I think of it like that.

After dinner and dessert, Pete heads upstairs and goes to bed. It's still early but he looks exhausted. He takes Holly outside one last time and then he takes her upstairs to his room. Holly sleeps in my room most of the time, but it's understood that I'm second best. When Pete gets home she barely leaves his side.

That night I set my alarm for 4 a.m. It's nine hours ahead in Iraq, so whenever Pete comes home he goes to sleep early, then wakes up in the middle of the night and watches movies.

When I get down to the den, he's already there with a bowl of cereal and Holly on his lap.

“Hey,” he says, turning off the television. “You look good. Older.”

“You too,” I say.

He takes a bite of his cereal.

“You have school today?” he asks.

“Yeah. The semester is almost over. Then I'm out of there.”

“Mom told me. You're lucky. None of us ever got to go to public school.”

“Lucky isn't what I'd call it. You've never been to a really religious school.”

He just shakes his head and says, “It's amazing how pretty much every religion preaches peace, but most of them can't manage to live up to it, huh?”

“The Buddhists?” I ask. “The Dalai Lama doesn't really throw down.”

“I guess not.”

“Plus, there are lots of people who believe in all the stuff religion cares about, and do it right. Peace and good deeds and loving thy neighbor. It's like the few bad kids making the whole class seem like it's out of control.”

“Look at you. Coming to the defense of religion.”

“I'm just saying, people are messed up no matter what they believe. We always find a reason to hate each other. There is good too. There wouldn't be any point if there wasn't.”

“In a war you don't really get to see the good stuff,” he says glumly and turns back to his cereal.

“What happened to that dog you were taking care of?”

“They wouldn't let me bring her home but my friend Gary is taking care of her.”

“Still want to open up a shelter?”

“I'm thinking about it. I have one more tour, then I'm out. I have to do something.”

He gets all quiet for a minute or two while he pets Holly's face. Her eyes are closed. All of a sudden, Pete remembers that I'm here and looks at me.

“How are things going with your girl?” he asks.

“They aren't. She broke up with me.”

“Because you got suspended?”

“Because of what I said that got me suspended.”

“That sucks.”

“She was right. It was my fault.”

“Your teacher treated you like hell from what Mom said.”

“Doesn't mean I get to act like a jerk.”

“True,” he says. “Does that mean we aren't going to her brother's wedding?”

“Looks like it.”

“Why isn't she going with her parents?”

“Her brother is an atheist so they don't speak to him.”

“Seriously? So she's not going now? That's bull. You can't let that happen.”

“She won't even talk to me. I doubt she'll let me be her date for the wedding.”

“Imagine if I were getting married and you and Em weren't there,” he says. “It's his wedding.”

“What should I do?”

“When is it again?”

“The day after the talent show. December fourteenth.”

“We're going. Tess is going. You've just got to make it happen.”

“She won't even look at me.”

“Then make it up to her. You messed up, so it's up to you to fix it.”

“I don't know how. I've been thinking about it, but I seriously have no idea how to get her to listen to me.”

“You better think of something,” he grins at me.

“Thanks,” I say, sarcastically. “You want to watch a movie?”

“Show me the best thing I've missed since I've been gone.”

“You got it.”

“Then you can show me this routine you've got going on at the talent show. I've got to make sure you're not going to embarrass yourself.”

That day at school I basically stalk Beth until I find her at her locker during a free period. I come up to her as she's getting some books out.

“Hey, Beth. Can I talk to you?”

“Not without Tess getting mad at me.”

“Tess doesn't need to know.”

“I don't keep secrets from my best friend,” she says.

“She kept one from you. Consider this payback.”

She kind of shakes her head and turns back to her locker.

“This is for Tess,” I say. “Come on. It's important.”

She turns back around and looks at her watch. “You have two minutes. Tess is waiting for me in the library.”

“Ask her to hang out on the day her brother is getting married. Just make sure she has an excuse to be out of her house.”

“She's not going to the wedding, Ben. She can't. She has no way to get there.”

“She might. I'm working on something but I can't tell her. Just please play along. Ask her to a movie or the mall or something. If I can't come through or if she doesn't want to go because she hates me too much, then you'll still have movie plans.”

She looks at me with that disapproving face she's so good at making.

“Please?” I beg.

“Fine, but you better not mess with her. She's devastated that she can't go.”

“Leave it to me.”

 

 

Chapter 38

Midnight Phone Calls

Fi
ve days before the talent show, James calls my cell at like midnight. I'm sound asleep so when I answer, I don't even think. I just say, “Is your mom okay?”

“Yeah. It's not about that. It's Kenny's brother, the one in Iraq. He died.”

“What? When?”

“His family was just told tonight. I was at church with my mom and they were all there. I thought you'd want to know.”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

“Okay. Well, I'll let you get back to sleep.”

I hang up, but instead of going back to sleep I just lay there. I don't even have thoughts. Just a physical reaction. My heart is racing and I'm sweating. Pete just got home and he's safe, but he has to go back.

I wonder what happened to Kenny's brother. Maybe Pete knew him. Probably not, but maybe. I get out of bed and my heart slows a bit. My shirt is still wet with sweat. I walk down the hall to Pete's room and open the door. He's not there. I find him downstairs, just sitting in the dark looking out the window with Holly at his feet.

“You okay?” I ask.

“Couldn't sleep.”

“James just called,” I say. “One of the kids in my school, the one who's been messing with me, his brother died. He was in Iraq.”

Pete doesn't say anything. He just nods. After a minute or two he asks, “What's his last name?”

“Schrock. I don't know his first name.”

“I don't know any Schrocks.”

“Kenny doesn't like me, and I just might hate him, but I'm not sure that matters. I thought, if you want to, we could go to the funeral together.”

“We should.” Pete looks at the clock on the wall and says, “It's late. You should go to bed.”

“You too?”

“Not tired.”

“Okay,” I say, trying to figure out if I should go back to bed or just sit in silence with him. He doesn't look back my way. “Night.”

I head upstairs to my room. Pete always sounds normal in his emails to me from wherever he's stationed. When he gets home he's just so quiet. I mean, this happens every time he comes home. Usually after a few days he gets into the swing of things and starts sleeping full nights. Then he starts joking around again, being more like his old self. It seems harder for him this time. Like he doesn't fit here.

Kenny is surrounded by people at school over the next few days. A special assembly is even called to talk about our war heroes and how great they are, even when it costs them and their families so much.

I don't go up to Kenny to say anything. I don't want to get in his way. He might punch me just for talking to him. Jerk or not, he lost his brother. We may not believe the same things, but we both had brothers in the service, and that means something.

The talent show is in a few days and I know I should be practicing, or figuring out a way to get back in it. Maybe beg Trent to sneak me onstage or something. Instead, I'm finding it hard to concentrate on anything, even my homework, and I have finals next week. I'm so close to being done with this school for good and all I can think about is Kenny and Pete. Pete is only back here for a month and then he has to go back to Iraq. His next tour will be longer.

Instead of doing the stuff I'm supposed to do, I watch movies with Pete. He's barely left the house since he got back. Not that he knows anyone here to hang out with. So we sit together with snacks my dad makes us and put in DVDs. Ones that we've seen already, but it doesn't matter. We watch and we laugh and we don't talk. Not about anything that matters anyway.

On Wednesday afternoon, two days before the talent show, Pete takes James and me to the funeral. He hadn't touched his uniform since he got back. It just sat in a crumpled pile in the corner of his room, until this morning, when he washed it and broke out the iron to make it perfect.

There are a bunch of guys in uniform already at the funeral when we arrive. And pretty much the entire school. Pete nods at the men and women in uniform. They nod back, but he stays with me. Tess is up front sitting with her family. She hasn't seen me yet. The place is packed.

Pete, James, and I walk up to the front to pay our respects. There is no place to kneel like at the other funerals I've been to. So we just sort of stand in front of him for thirty seconds or so.

I do what I did at my grandmother's funeral a few years ago; I stare at the lining of the casket. That way it looks like I'm looking at the dead person. Really I'm avoiding it. What I can't avoid is seeing that he's in uniform. The same uniform my brother is wearing. And that brings my eyes up to his face. I've only ever seen old people like this. Dead. He's got to be nineteen or twenty.

Without meaning to, my eyes get wet. I hold them open to try to dry them out, but tears are building up above my lower lid.

Pete looks over at me, sees my face, and puts his hand on my shoulder. That does it. The tears drop and I'm officially crying. Not big sobs or anything. Just face- burning kind of tears.

Pete could die.

Pete moves me away from the coffin. James follows us. I see Kenny sitting with his family. I walk up to him and say, “I'm sorry.” I'm looking him straight in the eye, something I'd never do at school. I need him to know I get it. He's not alone.

He sees my face and I can tell he knows that any more words out of me would be followed by more tears.

“Thanks,” he says and nods at my brother. His family gives us all sad nods and then we move toward the back of the church.

I feel Tess looking at me. For the first time I don't try to make eye contact. Today isn't about her. It's about this guy who died. Sean.

We get to our seats, way in the back, and look around. At the front of the church on a big screen is a slideshow showing pictures of Kenny's brother, Sean. From him as a kid to what could have been last spring.

While we wait for the service to start a bunch of people come up to Pete to say thanks for his service and for keeping us safe. Pete nods back, but doesn't really talk to anyone.

Finally the funeral starts. It seems like the pastor really knew Sean. He tells stories about him and his family from years ago. He talks about how Sean played football in high school and loved to play guitar. About how he performed at the church a whole bunch and how he loved his country. Sean had been offered a scholarship to go to college. He didn't go. He felt his place was protecting people so he enlisted.

Pete stays motionless through the entire thing. No tears, no nothing. Just a blank face as he listens to the pastor.

Once the pastor stops talking about Sean as a man, he talks about everlasting peace, and says that because Sean was a Christian, he's in heaven with god right now.

I watch Kenny, or at least the back of his head. He's not looking at the pastor. He's looking down. His mom's arm is around his shoulder.

I stop listening and just think about my brother next to me. This is why he's up at night. He has seen people he knew die. Guys who are so young, they might still be virgins, or they've never owned a car. Or maybe the war was their first trip out of the country. Pete must think about dying. About who would miss him. Would he have as many people at his funeral as Sean?

I feel freaking miserable. It gets so bad that I'm sweating again. Like Pete is dead already and I can't stop my mind from thinking about it. Like this is his funeral. I see my mom and dad and sister crying. His best friends from high school. His old teachers like his history teacher who thought he was the best student he ever had. Lots of people to miss him and to feel like the world was changed because of his loss.

As soon as the service is over I get up and go to the bathroom. Standing and walking makes me feel better. I've got to get myself together.

When I get to the bathroom and open the door I see Kenny standing at the counter looking in the mirror. He's been crying.

He sees me, and he starts all over again, his shoulders shaking.

I just stand there with the door half open and look at the ground.

“If you're coming in, come in,” he says, between breaths.

I let the door close, but I don't move any closer.

“You know only around four thousand soldiers have died in this war. Two million troops deployed in Iraq and Afghanistan since 9/11 and only four thousand deaths. That's nothing. Absolutely nothing.”

He looks at me, forcing me to raise my eyes up to his.

“In World War Two,” he says, “over four hundred thousand Americans died. You don't expect people to come home with numbers like those. It's just a bonus if they do. But less than four thousand? Those are good odds.”

“I'm sorry,” I say, which is totally useless. His brother is dead and mine isn't. He wipes his eyes with his sleeve, looks away from me, and says, “So you really don't believe in God? Well, what the hell happens to people in your world if there is no God?”

His face scrunches up and he looks completely deflated, like he's lost everything that will ever matter to him.

“It doesn't matter what I believe,” I say, finally. “Who says I'm right about anything?”

“Then no one says I'm right either.”

I step toward him. “You believe in god. You believe your brother is in heaven. So that's where he is.”

“If your brother died,” he says, looking at me straight in the eye, “where do you think he'd go?”

I think to myself,
in the ground
, but what worse thing could you possibly say to someone who just lost their brother. For the first time I see why it matters, why heaven is so damn important. No one ever really leaves you. Not forever. Death doesn't rip a person from your life, it just means you have to wait to see them again. So I say, “All that matters is what you think. Your brother, he was saved, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Then you know exactly where he is.”

He breathes in deeply and turns on the tap to splash water on his face.

“Does your brother have to go back?” he asks, drying his face.

“Yeah.”

“The odds are on his side,” he says, not even looking at me. Kenny throws the paper towel in the garbage and walks past me. As he opens the door to leave he stops, turns his head, and says, “I'm sorry I tripped you. That was messed up.” Then he's gone.

I splash some cold water on my face to stop the stinging in my eyes. For the rest of his life, Kenny will have to live with his brother being dead. I still have Pete, and suddenly I feel like the luckiest kid in the world.

I walk back out to the main room where people are still standing around talking to each other. There are hundreds of people and they all look comforted. Like they know that Sean is still out there, that they'll see him again.

I can see why that would be something to hold on to and why Kenny needs that to be true. Everyone here
knows
that they will live forever, even if it's not on earth.

I feel like I understand why someone would want to believe in something bigger. How scary it must be to go from believing you live forever in heaven to believing you die and you're gone.

I don't mind the idea of being gone forever. It makes life more important somehow. What I do right now matters because it's all I have. But believing in something bigger helps people deal. I bet it even makes it easier to be willing to die for your country.

I look at Pete and wonder if he's ever believed, even just for a second when he's scared. Or if he's ever hoped that he's wrong. That there is a god.

I get now why my freak-out at school hurt everyone so badly. Jesus is the guy who takes care of them in situations like these. That's a big freaking deal. And I completely disrespected their savior. I have to say sorry to everyone. Up until now it's felt like Tess is the only person I hurt. Really, I've hurt the entire school, and I have to do something to fix it.

Pete, James, and I get up to walk out to the parking lot. The aisle is so crowded I just try not to bump into other people. When we're almost to the door I feel someone grab my hand, give it a fast squeeze, and then let go.

Tess rushes by me with a quick look back over her shoulder.

I don't even have time to smile or nod or anything before she's facing forward again and speed walking ahead to catch up with her family. I can feel her hand on mine still, that warm skin and pressure, even though it was for less than a second. I can feel her.

After the funeral we drop James off and head back to the house.

Pete is still quiet. He's barely said a word since we got in the car to go to the funeral. Once James leaves and we're alone, it kind of feels like Pete wants to say something. We get all the way home and pull into the driveway and still he hasn't said a word. But he doesn't get out of the car.

So I sit there too, not speaking, just looking at my knees.

After a few minutes Pete finally says, “That was my first one.”

“First what?” I ask.

“First army funeral.”

I don't say anything.

“I've lost friends over there, and we have a drink in their name, but their body gets sent back here and we never get to go.”

“I'm sorry,” I say, not knowing what else I could say.

“I don't want to go back.”

I nod.

“One more tour. Then I'm out.”

“Then you'll start that shelter.”

“Damn right.”

“Maybe you could start raising money for it now,” I say.

“I should do that,” Pete says.

“There's one near here. We could go and walk some dogs.”

He looks at me for the first time.

“That would be great,” he says.

“I stopped eating meat over Thanksgiving break. I mean, what the hell is the difference between a dog and a pig anyway?”

“Emily finally got to you?”

“Her friend Ed. He made a good point. There is no difference. An animal is an animal.”