Somebody to Hold Tonight (Larry Stylinson)

1

I was 16 years, 11 months, and 20 days old when my mom walked out on my family. The baby was only four months old and the other two were nine and eleven. My dad was out drinking when my mom walked out of the house with her suitcase in hand. She didn't kiss us or hug us goodbye. All she said was, "I have to get out of here, Louis. I can't take it anymore. It would do you well to do the same."

I didn't try to stop her, and I didn't bother to cry. Tears weren't going to bring her back. All hope of her return left me after she was gone for eleven days, which was also the day of my 17th birthday. I quit counting after that. My father didn't seem too bothered by her absence either. His only concern was who was going to cook dinner. Of course that responsibility fell to me. Everything fell to me. I was a 17-year-old high school student with a minimum wage job at a slummy movie rental place that had just inherited three kids. Life as I knew it was over.

When people heard about my mom's unceremonious departure, they all seemed to make their own assumptions about what happened to make her walk out. Undoubtedly, Francis, our nosy, widowed neighbor whose highlight in life was watching Downtown Abbey every afternoon, was the one with the most theories. It seemed as if she'd decided to link every argument, every cross word, every insignificant spat, any inkling of discord she'd overheard during the twelve years we'd been neighbors and weaved them into one gigantic cock and bull story.

It certainly didn't help that we lived in a trailer park that represented every cliche ever known to man. Across the street there was a teenage girl that couldn't have been much older than Lottie, my 13-year-old sister. She lived with a man who was at least a few years older than me. I knew this because he'd been a senior in high school when I was only a freshman. However, I heard he'd dropped out, and I wasn't at all surprised because the one time I'd spoke to him in passing, he hadn't seemed all that bright. I was surprised he even made it to the twelfth grade in the first place. His child bride was barefoot and pregnant, and I often passed her in the Laundromat down the street. Sometimes I felt sorry for her, but it was usually just a passing emotion.

On the next row over there was a couple I suspected was running a meth lab. They had people in and out of their trailer all hours of the day. Whenever I drove by their trailer, there was always the smell of chemicals in the air. The landlord's son frequented that particular lot rather often. I had the inkling perhaps they were trading drugs for free rent. Of course these suspicions weren't unfounded, but I usually preferred not to think about what roused my suspicions on the first place. Besides, it really wasn't any of my business and after having people speculate about the details of my family's situation, I decided to just butt out.

The man who lived in the back row of trailers had just been released from prison after serving five years for molesting a ten-year-old girl. I'd been disgusted when I found out about him from the woman across the street. She was one of the few women who actually took enough care to pay any attention to what was going on in the trashy little trailer park. Since the man, Viggo McCarty, moved in I'd refuse to let my siblings leave the house unsupervised.

Galadriel lived two trailers down, and she'd been my babysitter when I was younger. She used to keep an eye on me while my parents were at work, and after my mom walked out and I was left to take care of things around the house, Galadriel offered to watch on my youngest sister, Phoebe. She was only four months old at the time, and I was worried the elderly woman wouldn't be able to handle it, but I had no choice. Besides, Galadriel said she wasn't ready to go anytime soon. I often thought of her as the grandmother I never knew, as my father's mother had passed away when I was only five, and my mom was estranged from most of her family. I'd only met her sister a few times, and I hadn't felt particularly fond of her either.

Galadriel also kept an eye on Lottie and Fizzy, my eleven-year-old sister, after school or during the summer when I had to work. As time passed after our mom left and they got older, they decided they were old enough to take care of themselves after school. Lottie was fairly responsible, but I suppose I didn't give her much choice in the matter. When I wasn't home, she had to be my eyes and ears and had to keep things together.