Percy,
July 22, 2021,
8:13 pm.
I don't get super involved in Riley's business if I can help it. In fact, there are times when I've wanted to speak up, and I've chosen not to. I've kept my lips sealed even as I've watched the disastrous consequences unfold. I've watched Riley crash and burn when I knew better more times than I can count.
One time, when I was barely 17 and Riley was 15, I found out that Riley planned on sneaking out of the studio early with a girl who was guest starring as his love interest on the show. I didn't know the full plan, but I knew he'd gotten an aid to leave a door open for him. I knew that Riley hadn't ever actually kissed someone off screen before. I also knew he was an idiot and the door he planned on sneaking out through had a camera. I could have told him and kept him out of trouble, but when I attempted to approach the subject, he brushed me off and I chose to be offended rather than push it. Security caught him on the way out and then Riley's mom showed up and made a huge loud mess of things.
Another time, just a few years ago I watched as Riley got punched in the face at a bar. He'd been bickering with the guy that ultimately punched him for a while. Riley was belligerently drunk and had been for the entire interaction. I remembered thinking he was going to get punched about 4 minutes before it happened. Maybe I'm a slightly less than great person because I didn't warn him. I just let the situation play itself out.
In a broader sense, choosing not to intervene every single time Riley made a bad choice was an act of self preservation. It was exhausting to try and control Riley. He had always made it clear that he intended to do things his way regardless of the consequences. I couldn't just spend all my time cleaning up after him. It was too much for another single person to manage.
This time though, his mess was weighing heavily on my shoulders. The fact that I couldn't shake it was beginning to feel pervasive. I didn't really have many choices except to ignore it, or to face it head on. I was going to have to feel it either way.
After my private music lesson, I checked my phone for messages from Riley. I didn't expect any since his phone lived either on the floor or on the charger in the kitchen where I kept placing it for him, but I still checked. When I saw there were no messages, I made the educated guess that he was likely asleep. Then I started my car and drove in a direction I wasn't particularly fond of driving.
I felt like my action was more of a compulsion than it was an active choice. Riley's words echoed in my brain. I couldn't get them to stop, not even with my regular focus that I carried during music lessons. His simple statement just elicited so much empathy out of me.
"Joey's literally just a kid."
The jail was not particularly busy. I definitely hadn't expected it to be since it was just a random Thursday evening. The parking lot was lined with police cars and otherwise empty spots, so I found a place to pull in easily. Since it was already running into the evening, I made quick work of getting inside. Through all of this, I was grumbling in a quite annoyed manner to myself. I really was just incredibly frustrated with my own inability to say no.
I know it's controversial, but I've always kind of liked police. I'm privileged in that they're often very kind and helpful for me. I've had to work to build a rapport with the city police in order to ensure Riley gets the easy treatment whenever he gets into trouble. It sounds kind of bad, objectively. It sounds like I'm exploiting privilege to get what I want actually, but if the alternative is letting Riley lose everything then I consider the slight relationship I've built with the police a good and necessary thing.
I wasn't here for Riley though. Not directly anyways, although Riley was obviously the motivator.
I was greeted at the desk by a cheery officer named Aiden, who I'd spoken with before. I'd actually tentatively called him when I left home, before my lesson. He handed me a packet of papers, which included the report from our break in just a few nights prior. I took my time reading through that, as well as the other relevant papers he gave me. At the end of them, I had to sign a few things, making promises I had no way of keeping. When I handed them back to Aiden, he said a few very important legal things to me that I barely registered. Then I paid a hefty fee and stepped back from the desk to wait.
It felt like hours, but only a few minutes passed before a new officer that I didn't know came down the hall with my actual target in tow.
Joseph looked nervous, which wasn't a surprise. His clothes were old, dirty and slept in. His hair was wild, and his cheeks gaunt. I noted his shoes actually looked newer and more expensive compared to the rest of him. I thought for a moment that they might be stolen given the fact that I'd recently found him in my home robbing me, but I pushed the thought away. He stepped with a slight limp I'd never noticed before and he had a tiredness in his posture that seemingly affected everything. The most energetic thing about him was the anxiety in his eyes as he noted me leaning against the wall of the waiting area in the lobby.
The police officer walked him all the way to me, shook my hand, and said something that I only half registered. Outside, my posture was tall and authoritative, like I was doing something completely within my element. Police always seemed to like that look on me, but none of it was real. I had no idea what was actually happening. I was playing a role while anxiety wracked me almost as intensely as it wracked Joseph.
As the officer walked away, seemingly pleased by me, I turned to Joseph fully and offered the same level of composure.
"Alright," I said decidedly. "Let's go."
Panic flared up in Joseph's young eyes again. For once, I truly looked for the youth Riley talked about. He was definitely right. Joseph looked like a child in a lot of ways. He had stringy limbs and messy clothes, but there was a childish charm to him. He was homeless, and he had the hardness of the streets written on him, but those boyish eyes were obvious.
"What?" He asked, with what was a reasonable level of confusion.
"Let's go," I repeated. "It's getting late. I don't have a lot of time and we obviously need to talk."
Joseph still looked very confused.
"I bailed you out," I added. "In case you didn't notice."
"You bailed me out," he repeated. It almost sounded like a question, but I couldn't really tell.
"Yes," I confirmed. That time I turned slightly and started walking towards the door, gesturing for him to follow. He looked hesitant, but followed nonetheless. "It was expensive. Please don't skip your court date. I'd be really upset about that."
Joseph looked uncomfortable following me, but he continued all the way through the lobby until we were standing outside the double doors on the sidewalk.
"Why?" He stopped to ask in confusion. I watched him look both ways up and down the deserted stretch of roadway. He wrung his hands nervously when he realized we were alone. "Is Ryland here?"
I shook my head. In actuality, Riley had no idea where I was. He thought I was at work. He certainly didn't think I was busy bailing his teenage crackhead friend out of jail.
I took a deep breath.
"I think we need to talk Joseph," I said carefully. "I really think I've got a few rather important things to say to you. Do you want a ride? I'll give you a ride."
I gestured to my car parked adjacent to the building. Joseph eyed it suspiciously and then looked back to me with downcast eyes that conveyed serious resistance.
"So Ryland isn't here?"
"I paid your bail," I reminded him again, which honestly felt kind of dirty. "The least you can do is have a conversation with me."
Joseph reluctantly nodded and then stepped towards the car. I let the odd silence permeate while I unlocked it. It wasn't until we were both in our seats and buckled that I finally found more words to say. I had to unlodge them from the back of my throat with a short cough.
"I'm unhappy with you Joseph," I said finally. I started the car and began backing out immediately to avoid any sort of attempts at fleeing from the teenager in my passenger seat.
Joseph exhaled a puff of air like he couldn't quite hold it anymore.
"I gathered that when you had me arrested," Joseph said quietly. His eyes were fixed on his weirdly nicer than average shoes while he spoke. "I don't blame you, by the way. It just wasn't particularly fun."
"Yeah," I affirmed, pulling off down the road. "I imagine it wasn't a blast."
"It's not the worst though," Joseph said a bit lighter. He attempted to look up and then lost his bravery and settled on looking at the dashboard. "It was a place to sleep for a few nights anyways. The food was warm."
I bit my lip to stop myself from saying something pitiful. After a pause, I said, "I'm going to run through a drive through."
"Thank god," he practically moaned.
"Then I need to know where I'm taking you," I added. "I told the jail I would make sure you got somewhere safely."
To my surprise Joseph laughed. It wasn't a positive laugh. It was more throaty and resigned if anything, like he found the assertion hilarious as a survival skill.
"Good luck with that," he scoffed. "It's not like I can go back to the house I was camping at since Bradleys still in jail."
I didn't actually know what all he was talking about, although I recalled Bradley was the one that had been arrested with him. I wanted to keep pushing the issues, but I was already pulling through the parking lot of the Taco Bell. Nobody was in the drive through, so rather than continue our conversation, I just started ordering food. Joseph seemed reluctant to name anything specific when I asked, so I just ordered him what Riley normally got on our rare fast food trips.
Once food was in his hands, he settled some. He at least stopped laughing at me. That was something. I parked in the lot and decided to try again.
"What about your parents?" I pressed, although a bit of nerves had definitely raised in me at his dismissals. "Your mom? Riley said—"
"Riley doesn't fucking know anything," Joseph looked up from his burrito to cut me off. "Don't talk about my mom to me. It's not Riley's place and it certainly isn't yours."
"Well I need to know where to take you," I attempted in a level voice. I'd noticed that Joseph didn't seem particularly easy to have a conversation with. His eyes barely ever landed on me. His hands were constantly moving. I got the impression that he was maybe yearning for something. I wasn't even sure he was actually listening to me all that much. It seemed he just felt like he was along for the ride. "I'm trying to help."
"Why don't you just get to the point?" Joseph said, and that time he didn't even seem nervous anymore. He just seemed annoyed. I couldn't keep up. "You picked me up because Riley guilted you into it right? You said we needed to talk, so just give me my lecture and I'll be on my way, okay dad?"
I hadn't expected for him to be so intense about it. Now that he had food and had relaxed some out of his short jailhouse stay, Joseph seemed immensely more emboldened. He still wasn't looking at me, but that didn't alter the way I was feeling such concern about it. I hadn't ever been great with teenagers. Even when I was a teenager I spent most of my time bumbling around intimidated and confused.
I grit my teeth and decided not to let him derail me. I had a purpose.
"Riley didn't guilt me into anything," I started. I said it in the same voice I used when I told off the lesson kids for being too hard on my instruments on the few times I'd ever provided the materials. "Riley's at home completely oblivious, and that's where he needs to stay. I don't want him to know I'm talking to you right now."
That caught Joseph off guard so much that he actually looked my way finally. His wide and curious eyes were suddenly full of concern.
"I did you a favor," I said in the same tone. "I'm wanting to help you and in return, I need you to do something for me."
There was a pause. Joseph was eyeing me with a new level of interest and suspicion. I'd clearly gathered his attention.
"I hate to tell you this," Joseph said tilting his head to the side a little bit. "But I have very little to offer by way of favors. In case you haven't noticed, I'm kind of in between housing situations, and the only thing I've got going for me is that Ryland Brooks thinks I'm worth a shit."
I swallowed. I didn't want to say what I was going to say, especially not when he'd responded like that.
"I need you to stay away from Riley," I said eventually.
Joseph's humor completely melted. He stared at me as if hoping for a punchline that wouldn't come, because I wasn't joking at all.
"What?"
"Stay away from him," I said, and although I tried to stay hard and authoritative, there was a level of evident pleading in my voice. I decided to embrace it. "I think I'm actually begging you to stay away from him."
"Listen," Joseph said almost timidly. "I get that I broke into your house and that looked really bad from your perspective, but you don't understand... I can't just never talk to Riley again. I kind of need him."
"You don't," I said shaking my head.
"I kind of do."
"The two of you get into trouble together and Riley's really trying right now," I explained, careful with my words. "He can't be getting mixed up in more shit. You can't be hanging around waiting for him at the gate and doing whatever it is you guys do together."
"It's not what you think," Joseph interjected.
"He walked off with you and didn't come back for days," I reminded him. "And when I saw him again he looked like absolute shit and you went to jail almost immediately after. You're clearly not good for eachother."
Joseph looked uncomfortable again. He had completely stopped eating his burrito and and his eyes were firmly planted on the floor infront of himself like they'd been before.
"He wouldn't tell me to get lost like this," Joseph muttered in a sad sort of way. "He would never."
"Riley's been in bed for 4 days withdrawing off opiates," I informed him. "And he's completely in denial about it."
"If you think he's in denial then maybe it isn't your business," he shot.
"It's my business," I said. "I'd argue it's more mine than yours."
"You don't know anything," Joseph scoffed. "I can't just walk away from him. Riley has been one of the only good things in my life for years now."
"Maybe you need to find a new thing," I suggested with more attitude than necessary. "Good things happen everyday."
"To people like you!" Joey absolutely snapped. To my surprise, he began fumbling with his seatbelt. "Listen dude, you're coming at this from a good place. I can tell that much, but you're also coming off as really ignorant right now."
"Joseph," I stated a little louder.
"No," he cut me off, flinging his door open. He practically fell out of the car, stumbling some on the dark pavement outside. "Fuck you dude! You don't get to dictate things like this. Ryland was right. You're controlling, and pushy, and you're lucky he's so hung up on you, or he'd walk out on you like this too. You need to mind your own business! You need to—"
"Name your price," I spat out the open car door. I tried not to put any attention to anything he was saying, instead focusing on the forward motion of my thought. I couldn't dwell when I needed to be focused.
Joseph turned around immediately at my incredibly morally gray statement.
"What do you want? A bus ticket? A hotel room? Money? A fucking iPhone? What is it going to take? I'm trying to save Riley's life and I'm trying to do it without having to leave you rotting in a jail cell for robbery and trespassing, so name your price. What will it take for you to just leave Riley alone?"
At first, I didn't think he believed me. Then he slowly walked back to the car and climbed back into the passenger seat with a look of shame and acceptance all over his face.
"You want to go to rehab?" I asked him. I was softer, but equally as desperate.
"Fuck you, man," he said and I could see his nostrils flare as he took a deep breathe. "Just... fuck you."
Joseph took a bite of his burrito, and then the negotiations began.
***
Later that night I walked into the apartment to see massive developments had occurred in my absence. I was a little bit lost in thought, but I caught on immediately. It helped that she had a habit of dropping her bag on the floor of the entryway as soon as she entered. I practically tripped on it.
The next hint came in the form of Riley's laughter, a sound I hadn't heard in days. At first, I felt an odd sense of relief about it. I thought maybe he was feeling better, even though that seemed impossible. Then I realized just how heavy the slur in his laugh dragged. The laugh was too loose and too giggly despite its tired drawl. When I heard Leah's giggle answering it, I felt a small clench of disappointment travel through my chest.
I only had to walk a few steps down the hall before I peered through the doorway into the living room. I could see them on the sofa together, the nearly empty glass bottle on the table infront of them. They were both sitting cross legged with their feet on the sofa, a decent distance apart, but leaning in eachothers direction. Leah was still giggling about something. Riley was smiling lazily with heavy lidded eyes, swaying until he leaned forward and allowed his forhead to bury against the couch next to her. His shoulders still bounced with muted laughter. Leah was petting his hair and mocking him.
"You're so weak," she giggled. "You only had a few sips."
Riley groaned exasperatedly.
I could tell she was under exaggerating. Riley was plastered. So was she. I'd barely even gotten to register her returned presence in the home because she was wasted in the living room. Last I'd talked to her she'd actually told me to piss off. I had no explanations for this.
So much for Riley's sobriety.
An unnatural rage filtered into my brain very suddenly. My vision tinged red with the fire of it. My fists clenched and unclenched. I felt the strongest urge to scream or fight or to destroy something. For a moment I was so mad that all I could hear was a rushing in my ears, like a tidal wave boiling over.
Then I remembered that if Leah was here, then so was my son.
Nobody had noticed me in the doorway since they were too preoccupied with drunkenly giggling and flirting on my sofa. I backed myself into the hallway again and headed down the hall to the bedroom belonging to Flynn. I found that Leah had left the door cracked open just a smidge. That made it easier to quietly let myself in.
I didn't truly recognize how seriously I'd been struggling to breathe for the past several days until I laid eyes on him. He was laid out in the crib wearing plain blue pajamas like any other night. His fine blonde mess of hair was spread out around him like a halo and his chubby cheeks were smushed and scrunched with his lips puckered in that familiar way. He was home and safe and clearly content. I had proof infront of me that he'd not been visibly harmed in his absence. Something in my chest uncoiled at the sight.
I wanted to pick him up. I wanted to hold him to my chest and breathe in his little baby scent. I wanted to wake him up and selfishly make him look at me so I could see that he knew I was back. What if he'd felt abandoned by me? What kind of work did I need to do to repair the days lost? What did I need to do to prevent it from happening again?
It was those feelings of mixed emotions, confusion, relief and worry that kept me up that night. Long after I'd left his bedroom and laid myself in my own bed, I was still fixated on the intense confusion I'd felt upon my return home. My only pit stop on the way to bed had been to cut through the living room. I walked infront of my two roommates, picked the glass bottle off the coffee table, and waded out without so much as a comment about the state of either of them.
My thoughts swirled so much in their circular and wild way that I was still very much awake in the early hours of the morning when Leah let herself into the room and crawled into bed next to me.
Neither of us said a single word.