Nov 29th, 2002 - Busta
I'm running, running as fast as I can. I recognize our Chicago townhouse, except the rooms are a mile wide and the hallways stretch on forever. I can hear the pounding of his fists against the walls, his voice bellowing after me... all the ways I disappointed him... all the ways he was going to teach me a lesson.
A door I don't remember opens and a hand pulls me inside. It's pitch black. I am still panicking. I struggle to keep running, but I can't.
"Shhh," Taylor whispers. "It's safe here."
Suddenly, the darkness dissolves and I'm with her. It's calm where we are... there's no ceiling, no floor... only the two of us, hands intertwined. Taylor smiles and I know I'm alright... until she starts shaking me.
"Wake up!"
"What the fu..." I sputtered, quickly rolling from my stomach onto my back. I can feel a string of drool connecting my mouth to my pillow and my sheets are clinging to my sweaty body.
"Wake up!" Buddy said, again. "You were shaking and stuff, like a dog having a bad dream."
"Well, yeah... 'cause... whatever." I looked over at my clock. It was almost 2 in the morning. "What's going on?"
"I can't sleep."
I ran my hands through my messy hair, attempting to push it out of my sleepy eyes and get a better look at my brother. He seemed to be studying me too.
"We don't look anything alike," he wondered aloud.
I was confused. I mean, he was right, I took after my mom's side for sure. Dark eyes, dark hair, and after a few months under the California sun, there was no denying that I inherited a pretty decent tan thanks to my grandmother's Italian roots. Buddy had much lighter brown hair, blue eyes, and the only thing the sun did for him was bring out his freckles and burn his shoulders.
But why was this coming up in the middle of the night?
"It kind of sucks, you know," he said. "You and mom and Ivy all look the same and I look like I was adopted. Because I look way more like... like him."
I opened my mouth, but I had no idea what to say. Buddy bringing up dad brought back foggy flashes of slamming doors and angry voices, bad dreams and real memories weaved together.
He continued, without giving me a chance to come up with a response. "Sorry, I know that's random, but people are always like 'oh, you must take after your dad'. I know they mean looks, no one here knows what an asshole he is, but I still hate when they say it. I hate having to remember how bad it was."
Buddy had always been so chill and optimistic through the bad times, he hardly ever complained. Sometimes I forget that he has low points too. I should've checked in with him more.
"I get it, that sucks, but dude, you know you're nothing like dad. You're already ten times the man he is, nothing about you inside is the same as him," I said, putting my hand on his shoulder. "You immediately had tons of new friends when we got here, because everyone who meets you can tell you are worth getting to know. I shouldn't admit this to you, but you know you are way cooler than I am."
"Yeah, but now you have a girlfriend and stuff," he mumbled. "You probably talk to her about all the stuff we used to talk about."
My heart broke a little bit. I thought back to one morning last summer, when I was feeling like shit and Buddy came in here to snap me out of it. We made promises to hang out more, like we used to.
Then Taylor happened, and I didn't make good on that promise. Buddy and I had spent over a decade sharing the same room, and often times the same bed when we were little. He was my sidekick, my partner in crime. We went through hell together.
When dad went to jail, everything changed almost literally overnight. Sometimes it feels like a fresh start, but with my brother, it felt like a reset. We got our own rooms. I realized I hadn't truly been alone in years. After all the physical & mental battering, I embraced the hermit life for a while and shut everyone out.
I am still dealing with the demons and I should've remembered that my brother... my little brother... might still be too. I should've done better.
Finally wide awake, I looked Buddy in the eye. "Listen, I get it. I still get nightmares at least a couple times a week. I was in the middle of one when you woke me up. It's always back in the old house. He's always coming for me, but he never gets to me. I'm terrified that someday he will."
"Yeah, me too." His voice cracked with his reply. "That's why I'm up. The best days are ones that I don't think about him, not even once, because I'm having too much fun. That's why I hate people asking about him and where he is. I don't know what to say, so I lie and act like it's a normal divorce or whatever. After thinking about everything, I almost always have bad dreams. I'd wish I could just forget it all instead."
We quietly sat on my bed for a couple minutes.
"Do you think we both had nightmares because dad came up at the Johansen's?" I asked him.
"Probably," Buddy furrowed his brow. "So what the crap happened tonight anyway?"
"I don't know what I'd rather talk about less, this or dad."
"You would have told me everything back in Chicago," he countered.
I dropped my head into my hands. I would have. It was mind-boggling how much we drifted apart over the past few month here and how much things had changed for me.
"I lied to mom and I stayed over at Taylor's. Her parents just figured it out."
"Yeah, we all gathered that, Einstein." Buddy rolled his eyes.
I smacked him with my pillow. "Smart-ass. Who is 'we'? You and Kristen? I guess I don't need to tell you anything, since you figured it all out."
"Well, Kristen thought you guys were drinking and stuff. She said she saw her dad looking at the liquor cabinet extra hard the next day. But I told her you hate drinking." A wave of guilt came over me for the handful of times I had tried drinking, but that wasn't something to bring up and add to Buddy's plate right now. "But I remembered Jake brought you home, so now I think you guys had a party and maybe some of your friends drank and stuff, and then everyone had to sleep there because there was no safe driver."
Damn it, I thought. That probably would've been a way better story.
"I'll tell you what happened," I started. "But you have to swear not to talk about this with mom or your friends or anyone. This is straight bro to bro talk. Sacred ground."
We reached in and pounded our knuckles. "Yeah, dude. Always"
I sighed. "There wasn't a party, it was just Taylor and me. All night, alone."
Buddy's eyes doubled in size. "Whoa. Whoa. Whoa."
I couldn't help it, I cracked up. As adolescent brothers in bunk beds, girls had been a common topic. A couple years ago, Buddy found some Playboys I had hidden in the closet (the first time I saw him make this face) and I ended up explaining the birds and the bees to him. I've had to go back and amend some of my original lesson though, as I was surprisingly not an expert yet.
"Yeah, so whatever you think happened now, that's what mom and the Johansen's think. That's why Thanksgiving dinner basically turned into a dumpster fire."
He leaned in, as if the whole neighborhood could hear us. "Did it happen?"
I nodded.
"Hoooooly crap." Buddy got up and began pacing next to the bed. "Dude. Are you joking? That's crazy. Wow."
I was still laughing. "Are you going to have a heart attack or something?"
He stood still. "I don't know, I might die of shock. I'm still convinced you're blackmailing Taylor or something."
"What?!"
"Bro, you were, like, a weird loner. Now, suddenly, you're dating this mega rich, super babe," he explained.
"Wow, man, tell me how you really feel!" I lunged forward and grabbed his arm, pulling him back onto the bed and wrapping him in a headlock. "And don't call my girlfriend a babe. Get a life."
"You gotta tell me your secret!" Buddy's voice was muffled by my forearm. I let him go and he rolled away from me. Laying on his back, he turned his to look at me. "Seriously, how can I get hot chicks to hook up with me?"
"You're 13, relax," I said dismissively.
"C'mon, Busta. You went from 'I'm going to die a virgin' to doing it with a cheerleader."
I was actually getting a little pissed off by his attitude. "That wasn't the mission. Don't be that guy, Buddy. I know someone like that, who only cares about sex and popularity, and he's a total dick. He goes through friends like they are Kleenex. Concentrate on finding someone you really like, who makes you happy, and do everything you can to make them happy too."
He looked a little stunned. "That got heavy."
I shrugged. "It's true. I didn't have sex just to say I had sex. I really love Taylor, but other people make everything too complicated sometimes. Like, I know mom and the Johansen's will assume we are just being stupid, horny teenagers if they ever find out the truth, but we're not. We have something real."
"Uh, wow," Buddy said, still staring at the ceiling. "I mean, that's awesome. Sorry if I sounded like a jerk, because Taylor's really cool."
"It's fine. But see what I mean about calling her a babe? That could be your future sister-in-law, so watch your mouth," I joked. "The macho talk really doesn't interest most girls, by the way."
"Yeah, yeah. I was kidding. Trust me, I'm not a ladies man. I get sweaty palms just slow dancing with a girl."
"That's not the worst thing to get when you're dancing with a girl." We both laughed, relaxing again.
"So... love, huh?" he asked. "What's that like?"
I thought about it for a moment. "Pretty much like having everything good about world and everything that makes you happy combined into one person."
Buddy smiled. "Sounds like the opposite of... you know, the bad dreams."
"Pretty much. You'll know someday."
He sat up. "I'm going back to bed. Thanks for hanging out."
"Remember." I extended my fist.
He tapped his knuckles against mine. "Secret's safe with me."
Buddy left, but he seemed as sullen as when he first woke me up. It hit me that another brother-to-brother moment kind of ended up being about me and Taylor.
I got back under the covers and tried to go back to sleep, but there was too much to think about. Buddy and how I was being a lame older brother. Taylor, her parents, and if she was OK after we left tonight. And, of course, my dad.
I watched the sky turn from black to purple to pink as I entertained all the guests in my head. I had my own room now, but sometimes I thought I was never going to be left alone.