ANGEL BLUE [1]

LEAD 8: off with his tie!

      “I’m not dressing up for the slammer,” Blake grunts. “Say, where’s your FED buddy―out banging the PA?”

      I twist Blake’s arm behind his back and move his elbow up, not too far to dislocate his shoulder but just enough for him to feel the tendons stretching and the joints grinding. To say I’m disappointed in Blake is an understatement; he needs to get a hold of himself.

      “He’s downstairs and so is Banks,” I dig my nails into his wrist. “We’re going to the cemetery to see Keith, come on Blake you can’t keep running from your problems.”

      “Great,” Blake cringes as the pain starts to take hold of him. His eyes aren’t as bloodshot as they were but I can smell the alcohol on his breath as he tries to struggle in my grasp. “Dad wouldn’t want to see me like this; he wouldn’t want to know what a disappointment his son is.”

      “You need to find a reason to pick yourself up, a reason to stop running from your problems but running with those that love you,” I release him slowly.

      Blake turns to rest his forehead against the cream wall. His breaths come in shallow gasps and I can hear the tears choke up his voice and his movements. He trembles, I would embrace him like any friend should do, but that’s Banks’ job, not mine. I don’t want to tread on marked turf.

      When I begin to move away from him, back down the stairs, Blake’s callused hand curls around my bicep to hold me back. Neither of us says anything, but I can hear him cry because he whimpers and makes sounds that no strong man like Blake should. I don’t look at him.

      “I’m not the only one that’s running from my problems,” Blake states softly. “You need to pick up that phone Akira; you can’t just cut your mum out of your life for what she did.”

      “Get dressed Blake, we’re leaving in ten minutes,” I pull away.

      • • •

      For once, I’m the one that wants complete silence in the car. I hold the bouquet of tiger lilies between my thighs as I stare at autumn leaves collecting in the gutters. A couple of kids walking with their parents kick through the raked piles near the edge of the park near Blake’s apartment, they throw the browning foliage into the air for it to flutter around them.

      What Blake said to me floats through my mind, I haven’t even told Banks about Mum basically disowning me for wanting to leave her. She’s selfish and wants everyone to herself, when her marriage with Dad went bust she shut everyone out and was inconsolable even though the divorce was a mutual agreement. But did I get a say in it? No.

      Of course, the child just has to be torn between which parent to go with. Since I didn’t like either of them that much due to their current dating situations and I hadn’t been old enough to live by myself, I toughed it out for two years with Mum before I couldn’t take it anymore.

      Why, you may ask? Because Mum tried to create her toy boy into my Dad, she even called him Daddy. A man who was younger than her by half was her Daddy―at least with Helena and Dad’s ‘relationship’ there aren’t any pet names unless it’s in the bedroom, and I make sure that my crime shows are up to maximum when they decide to get frumpy when I’m around.

      “So,” Banks drawls from the back seat next to Blake. She adjusts her shoulder badge slightly and looks around the interior of Sam’s spotless SUV. “Are these car rides usually so awkward? I mean, you and Mr Vanilla Latte don’t talk at all, he just stares at you while you mutter to yourself.”

      “Thank you Banks, there goes about ten of my self-esteem points,” I rest my cheek against the cool glass of the window.

      “That’s what I’m here for Stevens, to break your non-existent balls,” Banks crosses her legs on the leather seat and smiles sweetly in the rear-view mirror. “How about we put on the radio to lessen this pressure, hm?”