Chapter 13 - Evan

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"I can work with you," Evan says. "I will sell houses like you do."

"You need training to be a realtor, Evan," Jesse says. Jesse parks his car in a parking lot overlooking a popular beach. "It's not as easy as everyone makes it out to be. Basically it's a job of slavery. You're at everyone else's beck and call."

Evan thinks hard. "Maybe I can deliver papers. I did that once. I can do that again."

"You know, it's cool that you want to be on your own. I have my doubts, but I like that you're really thinking about what it means. It's a lot of work, a ton of responsibility. You sure you want that?"

"Yes, Jesse. I do."

"Why?"

"I'm ... different now."

Jesse laughs loudly. "You were always different. What do you mean, different now?"

Evan rocks in the front seat of Jesse's car. He likes the coloured lights on Jesse's dashboard. Jesse's car has rings around the speakers that change colours and pulse to the beat of the radio. They are changing colours now because Jesse has left his car running. His phone and notebook are charging on the dashboard.

"I feel different."

"Did you hit your head too hard or something? What happened?"

"I don't know." Evan thinks about Ana. Could he trust Jesse? Peter had said not to tell anyone else.

"You do seem sort of different," Jesse concedes. "I'm sorry I haven't visited with you more. Shit, it's been over five years since I last saw you. I wish mom were here. She should be the one looking out for you."

"Mom left."

"Do you miss her?"

"No."

"Do you remember how mom was when we were growing up? She used to smile and sing a lot. She made lots of cookies and loved to paint. Do you remember that?"

"I broke her paintings. I painted on her favourite one."

"I had forgotten about that. I think I was at school when that happened. What did she do?"

"She put all the pictures ... painting stuff in the car. We drove to the garbage dump...  and she threw them in a big bin. She didn't... like my picture."

"I wondered why she took them all off the walls. I thought she put them away when she was in one of her moods. Remember how she used to lie in bed for days sometimes?"

"Yes." Evan remembers teaching himself how to make a sandwich. He had used a whole loaf of bread and almost all the peanut butter and jam. When he had a sandwich with just enough peanut butter and jam on it, he had cut it in half and taken it to his mother. She had looked at it, called him sweet, and told him to put it on the side table beside her bed. She never ate it. She hardly ate anything, then.

"Anyways," Jesse says, " I think she had some problems that had nothing to do with us."

"Then I killed dad and she left."

"Don't say that!" Jesse slammed the palm of his hand into his car's dashboard.

"Well ...why did she go?" Evan rubs his eyes. Why is Jesse so confusing? Mom left because of he killed Dad. Mom had said so. She said dad died because of Evan and she couldn't take it any more.

"No, I mean don't say you killed dad. Don't say it like that. It was an accident. The boat spun out of control, he fell in the water, and the boat motor killed him."

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