Underwater (13 page)

“All you need to know is that I intend on being the best friend you ever had.”

He leaned back on the opposite wall and then lowered himself down until he sat on the dirty pavement.
I cursed the fact that I had left my jacket at the table before I went on stage. I wished I could sit on the ground too.

He bent forward and took off his jacket. Without a word, he settled it next to him. His eyes darted between me and the vacant space beside him.

His gesture warmed my heart and my face broke into a genuine smile. Without saying a word, I sat down next to him, leaned against the wall, stretched out my legs, and then crossed them.

“I need you to know something first,” he said quietly while looking at me sideways. I nodded. “I don’t feel right to ask for your company without telling you something about myself first. Then you can decide if...” He cleared his throat. “…if you still want me. I mean… my friendship.”

“Okay, I’m listening.”

He cleared his throat again and said, “I have PTSD.” I already knew something bad had happened to him. His scars told me that much. “And no matter how hard I tried,” he continued, “I could never find peace. Until…” He lowered his head. “Until the day I met you,” he murmured. “You were the only one I could touch.”

I never imagined how much he suffered, and was still suffering. Everyone was terrified of him, shunned him, whispered behind his back... but no one knew what lay behind the scars and the haunted eyes. No one tried to see beyond the fucked-up veteran. He was in pain, haunted by horrors that he had endured. All he wanted was for someone to understand him. Somehow, fate wanted me to be the one who could touch him, and I made a promise to myself. No matter what, whether it was friendship or more, I silently promised that I would stand by his side, for better or worse. He’d cried out for help and I heard him... I fucking heard. It dawned on me that meeting me meant a lot to him. He didn’t know it yet, but meeting him meant a lot to me too.

I opened my mouth to tell him just that, but he put a finger over my lips. “There’s more.”

All I could do was nod. His finger began to travel across my lower lip while he stared at it with heated eyes. His breathing quickened. His pupils dilated and darkened as he lowered his head. I panicked and shuffled on my feet, causing his finger to fall from my lips.

Clearing my throat, I said, “Y-you said there was more?”

He shook his head like he was trying to wake up from a daze. He watched me with uncertainty. “I’ve decided to get some help for it. Because of you I went to see a therapist today.”

“Because of me?”

“Because of you,” he whispered. “I heard what you said to me that day – the day I – almost hurt you. So, I’m getting help.” And then his uncertainty faded into determination. “I knew you were right about me.” A faint smile played across his lips. “I need to get used to this. It’s been a while since I spoke more than a sentence to someone. The last few years have been a bit rough and I was pretty much on my own.”

I understood. I really did.

“Can I say something?” I asked. He nodded. I took his hand in mine and gave him a friendly smile. He drew in a sharp breath while his body went rigid. After a few seconds, the tension in his body loosened and he smiled sheepishly back at me while holding onto my hand with both of his. This man craved physical contact, and I didn’t mind providing it. “I care about you, Dorian, and you having PTSD won’t change that.” I squeezed his hand and after a few moments, he squeezed mine back. “I’m proud of you. Anything you need, I’m here every step of the way.”

I could tell from the look on his face that my words were important to him. As if all this time, he was waiting for my approval. His eyes twinkled, a sheepish grin forming in the corners of his mouth.

I looked away and up at the starry sky. After a few minutes, he said, “Can I ask you for a favor?”

I nodded.

“Please come back to the support group.”

Walking into the living-room, I found my dad sitting on the couch, flipping through the channels. I looked around briefly to see if my mom was around and noticed her through the glass window, sitting on the porch outside smoking a cigarette. As of late, she was always there. I made a mental note to check on her in a bit.

I grabbed the thermometer and went to my father. When the thermometer beeped and showed that everything was alright, I washed it and returned it to the medicine cabinet. After drying my hands, I flopped down on the couch next to him, putting my head on his lap. He leaned over, picked up the pillow behind his back and put it under my head so I would feel more comfortable. As soon as my head touched the soft satin pillow, I felt peace.

A lump gripped my throat. I missed him. I missed
us
. I missed our times together. I looked up at him as he looked down at me, and we shared a smile. Despite all the tantrums he had recently, I wasn’t afraid of him. I understood him. Even though I wasn’t a fan of the way he was dealing, I still got where he was coming from. He was my dad. No one in this world knew me as he did, and I couldn’t stomach the thought I might lose him.

“How are you feeling? Any pain?”

“The usual,” his deep voice answered. “I took a painkiller a little while ago. I’m waiting for it to kick in.”

“Okay.” My throat went dry with what I needed to say, so I cleared it. “There is something I have to tell you.”

He stroked my hair slowly, running his fingers through the strands, and then brushing a few wild ones off my face. He made me feel relaxed as only he knew how.

“Tell me, buttercup.”

“Adam knows.”

The hand that caressed my face stilled and I could feel his body tense. “How?”

“It doesn’t matter how,” I sighed. “He just knows. But don’t worry,” I said with reassurance. “I explained everything and he understood. I’m going to keep an eye on him anyway.”

He closed his eyes and breathed out slowly. His hand resumed its ministrations.

“He would have figured it out sooner or later,” he said. “The kid is too smart for his own good, just like his...” He stopped mid-sentence and looked away.

He was going to say like our big brother, River. I felt a quake in my soul.

“Dad...” I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know how to speak about him myself. No one in our family could deal with the tragedy of what happened, no matter how much time had passed.

“It’s okay,” he said softly. “It’s okay.”

I closed my eyes as memories of River flooded my mind. He’d loved the sea, always trying to convince me to go in with him even though I didn’t know how to swim. He’d always promised he would protect me as if he were somehow invincible.
 
The funny thing was…I had always imagined him as the
superhero of the sea
, like the sea was his home and would always protect him. What a fool I was.

Shaking my dark thoughts, I recalled another thing I wanted to say to my dad. I opened my eyes and saw that he was observing me, a sad look reflected on his face.

“Dad…believe me when I say that I get you. I can’t imagine how it feels to live with this disease… the enormity of the situation… but I ask you,” I said, my voice pleading, “…you have to be more patient with us. Especially with Mom. Stop pushing her away. Like all of us, she wants the best for you. I get that you’re hurting, believe me, I get it. But please…” I pleaded. “Control your anger. Last night? You scared the hell out of Adam. It’s hard living like that… its suffocating.”

He didn’t say anything. At least he’d listened. At least he hadn’t gotten angry. We sat there for a while in comfortable silence, until I remembered my job.

“Oh, I…” I cleared my throat. “I quit the store yesterday. I’m going to look for a night job.”

He scowled. “But you love it there.”

I shook my head. “Yeah, well, it’s not working anymore.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for. Now hush, I need my fix.” I finished with a grin and winked. He chuckled to himself, and then nodded. I got up and we switched places. Now his head lay across the white pillow.
 
I grabbed his iPhone off the table and plugged in the headphones that sat next to it. I put one earbud in my ear and when I tried to put one in his he pulled back.

“Please?” I begged, holding the earbud for him to take. His recent aversion to music broke my heart. “For me?”

He sighed, took the earbud from my hand and put it in his ear. My heart warmed. It was a start. With a smile, I pressed play. The upbeat melody of John Denver’s
-
Take Me Home, Country Road
flew through the earbuds and both of us smiled at the song choice. This was a song from my childhood. It was the first song to open my eyes to country music. Lifting my hands, I announced, “Eyebrows, here I come!”

He laughed heartily. Okay, I confess. I had a
little
fascination with eyebrows. It was another ‘thing’ between my dad and me, besides music. He was the only person in the world who let me come near them. And his eyebrows? It was like winning the lottery. They were full and thick and I loved running my fingers over them.

My father’s eyes were closed and I couldn’t miss the smile that lurked at the edge of his mouth. Even if he would never admit it, I knew he loved it as much as I did. When his breathing began to even, I removed the headphones from our ears, paused the music, and put the phone on the table. I planted a soft kiss on his forehead and then made sure his temperature was still normal. Satisfied all was in order, I stood slowly, careful not to wake him. I picked up the furry blanket sprawled across the couch and covered him up.

Then, with a heavy heart, I went to my mother.
 
She sat in the same position, looking up to the sky, her crushed cigarette butt laid in the ashtray. I sat in the chair in front of her and then put both of her legs on my knees. I began to massage them slowly with up and down movements. Her eyes found their way to me, and with a sad smile, she laid back and sighed.

“I feel like I haven’t seen you in days,” she murmured.

She was right about that. Even though we lived in the same house,
 
lately I stayed in my room with my door closed.

“It was a busy week,” I lied. I just didn’t want to see anyone. The only one, who kept me company as of late, was Ace.
What would I do without him?
“How’s work?” I asked.

She shrugged, her expression unreadable. My mom loved her job as a saleswoman. Whenever she came home from work, she would always tell us funny stories that happened to her that day. For some reason, a lot of crazy people crossed her path and all I could say was…
God help them
. My mom lived to tease people. But lately, her stories were gone and it was something I missed terribly.

River should have been here. Helping me. Guiding me. Lifting me up. But he wasn’t. And I had Adam to worry about. He counted on me, and I couldn’t let him down.

“You need to speak to your father,” she said in a monotone voice, getting straight to the point.

“I already did.” And I really hoped it would help.

“I won’t let this family fall apart.”

“I know you won’t, Mom, and I won’t let it either.”

“The way your father acts sometimes… it can break us!” she cried.

I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry. I wanted to weep. “Mom, listen to me. I know he can be mean. I know he’s losing his temper. But we need to understand him. He has cancer, Mom.
Cancer
,” I said softly. “We need to be his anchor. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t agree with the way he’s acting, I told him as much, and I will keep on telling him. But please,” I begged, “don’t give up on him. Don’t judge him based on his weaker moments. He needs you. He needs
us
.”

Her lips quivered as she stifled a sob with a hand across her mouth. I set her legs down and stood. Hugging her to me, I placed her head on my stomach while I rubbed slow circles across her back. I could feel her muffled sobs, and I gave her this moment to fall apart. To unleash her pain. My eyes were burning and the lump in my throat almost choked the life out of me. I gave myself this moment to cry with her.

“I...” She choked out. “I’ll try harder.”

It was enough for me.
With a kiss on her cheek, I left her outside and went in. I checked on my dad again. He was sound asleep. I went upstairs to my room and flopped down on my bed, feeling drained. Ace wasn’t far to follow.

“I’ve missed you, buddy.”

I settled in with him, holding onto him while closing my eyes. I was so tired yet not quite ready for sleep. I grabbed my phone from the nightstand, pressed the home button and noticed I had two text messages waiting.

Dorian: Ashes Remain - Change My Life

Dorian: When you live in total darkness and suddenly a ray of light brightens your days and your nights, you hold on to it.

A smile broke across my face. He was using the same method I used to connect with my dad. Music held as much meaning for him as it did for me. Somehow, I was happy to learn that fact.

Typing a message back, I hit send, and prayed that I was making the right choice.