ELIAS
June 2nd, 2015
I've been going to church a lot lately. My mom's been saying I need it more than she does these days, and for the first time, I kinda think she's right.
Especially when it comes to tonight.
Tanner's coming over later.
I haven't seen him since Mindy turned my entire family inside out, so I guess I'm gonna need all the serenity I can get.
I lean back against the hardwood pew and stair up at the light pouring in from the church rafters, trying to figure out exactly where God is, so I can ask Him how to talk to a brother who never listens.
A guy who chooses to tune me out whenever I need him to hear me out.
We haven't talked in almost four months.
Weird, right?
Almost half a year of radio silence between guys who are supposed to be brothers.
Guys who're supposed to give a shit about each other.
The thing is, if I was still in the habit of lying about everything, I'd say the reason we don't talk is 'cause I've been using most of my words for writing, praying, and my mom.
She doesn't sleep much these days. Most nights she's up crying about everything, about me, about the baby, and somebody's gotta talk her down. Even if it hurts. So most of my heart, mouth, and mind belong to her.
But the truth is, I can't bring myself to talk to him because he left.
He left me in pieces on the pavement of a hospital parking lot on one of the worst afternoons of my life, because he couldn't "handle" it.
He couldn't deal with the fact that he'd driven 500 miles up from LA to find out that the niece he thought was his, wasn't.
He couldn't stomach being wrong.
He wouldn't admit it.
He wouldn't take time out of his illusion of an ideal life for me.
Even though I begged him to.
Even though I dug my nails into the bottom of his jeans and asked him to stay, to apologize, to tell me what to do, he didn't.
He left.
He ran away from the situation just like Dad did.
And it's not easy to forgive him for that.
But I guess I'll see what happens.
If anything, me and Tanner can play Kumbaya for Mom's sake for a couple hours and then forget tonight ever happened.
I'd like forget about a lot of things that've happened but, God's not in the business of dishing out wishes, He just answers earnest prayers from honest people--and I haven't exactly been one of those.
I just hope that I'm earnest enough for Him to answer me.
Halfway into letting my mind get lost somewhere between Hill Point Church and heaven, my phone buzzes to life in my pocket. I silence the call before I even see the screen.
Dr. Perry.
Shit.
Our session.
I totally forgot to cancel.
But Mom needs me today.
She's going all out to throw Tanner a welcome home party, and as much as I wanna ignore the fact that he's coming, I owe it to her to help decorate the house.
Besides, even if I high-tailed it on the metro right now, I'd still be thirty-minutes late give or take.
I promised myself that I wouldn't start screwing up my sessions or skipping out on them altogether like I did when I first got out of rehab. At least, helping out my mom's a decent excuse. Either way--missing out's gonna cost me twenty-five bucks.
That was the deal.
Fifteen dollars for showing up late.
Twenty-five for a missed session.
The guy basically sucked all the income outta my part-time retail job for the first couple months we started outpatient therapy. When you barely make a hundred a week, fifteen dollars starts kicking the shit outta your wallet. So I learned my lesson pretty quick.
Decent guys show up on time. But hey, he can't judge me too much for putting my mom first.
I stand up as quietly as I can, shoot a parting smile to the padre setting up candles at the front. I've never actually talked to the guy, 'cause talking would mean having to explain why I'm here all the time, and that's not really something I wanna do.
Not yet away.
The nice thing is, he always smiles. Always looks like he's ready and willing to listen if I ever need him to. I respect him for that. At least he's willing to help strangers through their problems. My brother won't even help me fix the ones he caused.
My phone buzzes again.
Time to go.
I jog out the front door and step into the early afternoon sunlight before answering.
Incoming Call from Dan Perry at 1:26 PM:
DP: I'll take my fifteen dollar bonus in cash, Mr. King. Where are you? I'd like to talk to you about some of the stuff you've been writing. All good news!
EK: Hey Dan, sorry for not calling sooner, but I'm not gonna be able to make it today. Just add twenty-five to my tab, my mom needs me at home.
DP: And you couldn't tell me this in advance because...?
EK: My brother's flying in from LA, and I'm stressed the fuck out. Trust me, I need today's session more than you know.
DP: Oh I know. I'm your therapist, Elias, it's my job to know. Look, just remember what we talked about and things will be fine. Stay away from trigger topics like--
EK: The fact that he ruined my relationship with my ex-girlfriend? Sure, Dan. Will do. I'll just smile at him across the dinner table, talk about the weather, and pretend we're the fucking Brady Bunch.
DP: You've gotta learn how to redirect your aggression, Elias. Maybe try writing in your journal before he shows up.
EK: I can't. My mom's home.
DP: Is that a problem?
EK: Uh, yeah. She snoops like a damn bloodhound. If she catches me lounging around writing on a day when she expects me to be cleaning the house, two things will happen. First, she'll castrate me for slacking off, and then she'll raid my room, read all my personal shit about Alex, and shoot me for it. I don't let her into my room for a reason.
DP: Elias, I thought you told her about what you've been working on.
EK: I lied. Sorry. My family's not perfect, okay? There are some things my mom can't know about. This whole thing with Alex is one of them. Me hating Tanner because of what he did to me and Alex is another.
DP: Oh boy. Well, this is news. You sure you can't make it in today? You weren't lying when you said you needed a drop-in.
EK: Yeah. Sorry, man. But I'll tell you everything that goes down tonight at our next session. Promise.
DP: Okay, just remember to keep your cool and fight the impulse to be, well, impulsive.
EK: Easier said than done. But don't worry, if I kill my brother tonight you'll be the first to know.
DP: What?
EK: Kidding. Talk to you tomorrow.
DP: Take care.
Call Ended at 1:42 PM
***
The second I get back to the house Mom's world famous paella seduces me into running straight for the kitchen. I pass through the perfectly clean living room on the way.
She's got all of Tanner's favorite DVD's spread out Blockbuster style next to a bowl of Sour Patch Kids and kettle corn just the way he likes. She even busted out his billion-year-old Buzz Lightyear throw blanket just in case he decides to stay for a movie.
This woman's all love, but sometimes I wish she'd stop trying to baby the both of us and let me and Tanner hash out our shit. Every time I try to talk to her about how pissed off I am at him for what he did, she won't hear it.
She throws her arms around me, kisses my forehead, and says "you're brothers, don't fight" like that'll solve things, but it doesn't. Time and avoidance only makes shit like this worse. I know that better than anybody in this family.
I don't blame her for not wanting to deal with reality, but one of these days we're gonna have to or the three of us are gonna fall apart.
"Is that you, mijo (baby)? Say something so I know you're not un ladrón (robber)."
Not only is my mom mildly paranoid, but she looks like a mad scientist whenever she cooks. She's hovering next to the stove with a butcher's knife in her hand, slicing onions with an oversized pair of science goggles on.
She's smart to do it. I mean, whenever I help her cook I end up looking like I smoked a bowl of weed after I handle the onions. She offers me the goggles every time but Kings don't wear goggles. Not a good look.
"Hi, mama. What'cha making?"
I ask this question for two reasons.
Reason number one: in t-minus thirty seconds, she'll list all the delicious things she's planning on throwing into her seafood extravaganza.
Reason number two: She'll let me try it early. Ever since I was old enough to hang out in the kitchen without her worrying about me setting myself on fire, she's always let me sneak a taste before anybody else.
Today shouldn't be any different.
I walk across the room and rest my head on her shoulder with my mouth open and wait for her to feed me. She swats me away instead.
"No, not today, Eli. Your brother's not here yet, and it wouldn't be fair."
"Why? Estoy muerto de hambre, mama. (I'm dying of hunger, mama.)"
She raises her butcher's knife dangerously close to my eyes.
"You're hungry? I gave you money to go shopping yesterday and what do you buy? Ramen. Eat that if you're hungry."
I wrap my arms around her waist and rock her back and forth.
"But I want your cooking. I'm moving out in a couple months, and you'll miss feeding me when I'm gone."
Her eyes tear up behind her goggles.
It's got nothing to do with the onions.
"How did I raise such a boy, huh? You know I can't say no to you. Open your mouth, mi pequeño travieso (my little troublemaker)."
Mom puts down her knife and raises a spoonful of paella to my lips. I'm gonna miss the hell outta this when I move out. I'm gonna miss the hell outta her. Who's she gonna cook for without me around?
Maybe Dan could date her.
Wait. No. That's weird.
She's not that lonely.
"I love you, mom," I say.
I squeeze her to me as tight as I can, but she only surrenders for a couple seconds before going back to chopping onions in her goggles.
"I love you too. Did you go to church this morning?"
And the daily check-in begins.
"Yes ma'am."
"And your appointment with Dr. Dan? Did you reschedule so you could go before church?"
"Yeah, I mean, I was gonna go, but something came up so we cancelled."
She eyes me from over her shoulder.
"What came up?"
I completely forgot about it.
"I don't know. Dan said it was urgent, so he bailed last minute."
My lie slips out so easily it almost sounds true.
"En serio (really/seriously), mijo?"
"Really, really. You can call him and ask if you want."
She waves off the suggestion. Thank God.
"No, no. I trust you."
She doesn't.
Smart lady.
I kiss her forehead to distract her, but her eyes stay unsteady.
"Elias," she whispers.
A thousand worried lines sprout across her forehead as she scoops the onions into her hands. She drops them into the pot, takes off her goggles, and turns around to look at me but her eyes are somewhere else. Somewhere I don't wanna follow.
"What's up, mom?"
"The leasing office manager called about your apartment application this morning."
I wait for her to smile, to see something like good news brush away the shadows on her face, but nothing changes.
I need change. I need to get the hell out of San Francisco. I need this apartment almost as badly as I need to be as far away from Mindy and every last fucking reminder of the life I had with her. Of the time I wasted with her.
LA is my escape, my solution, my chance to start over in a city built for people who wanna forget where they come from for a while. A city that reminds me of her.
But everything's slipping through my fingers.
I feel it before she opens her uneasy lips to speak.
"They denied your application."
My heart bottoms out of my chest.
"What do you mean they denied it? The guy said things were fine last week! We called, remember?"
Heat tears through my chest, claws its way up my throat, but I swallow the burn before it swallows me.
"I know, sweetheart, but they wanted a second co-signer and your dad--"
"He said no, didn't he?"
She doesn't even need to answer.
Of course he fucking did.
He denies everything when it comes to me.
The one time he actually opted to take me and Tanner to his office for bring your kid to work day, everybody was stoked to meet my big brother the second he walked through the front door.
Nobody knew he had a second kid.
Nobody understood why Tanner the all star's little brother could barely introduce himself in English.
I never went back to that office again. I "embarrassed and disappointed" him then, and I still do now.
This is how he makes me pay for it.
This is how he fights back.
"Elias, we can apply other places, we can try somewhere else."
"We've tried other places! It's always the same bullsh--"
"Don't you talk that way in my house."
"I'm sorry, mama."
She runs her hand along the side of my face, and I shut my eyes to stop the inevitable from happening.
"I'm sorry, mijo. I know how important this was to you."
"It's okay. I can keep applying places. I just don't know what I'm gonna do if I can't find anything before fall."
"You can stay with me."
Tanner's standing in the doorway with his suitcases, smiling at me and Mom like he's some kind of hero.
But he isn't my hero.
He just used to be.