Chapter 36
<Jasper Coven>
I'm in the locked bathroom of the Everington Baptist Church on the night of my mom's rehearsal dinner, three nights before her wedding. I'm dressed in a pair of black jeans and a navy button-up. I'm so emaciated that even the extra-small sizes are hanging off of me. When I walked in, Ashley's eyes bulged out of his head and Sophie asked what was wrong with me. My mom caught my eye and she just shook her head, knowing there was little she could do to make me stop. My shakes got bad about halfway through the practice ceremony. Since my part was done, I snuck off to the bathroom, where I am now trying to stop my shaking long enough to get a syringe in my arm.
"Damn it," I say as half the powder falls from my shaking spoon into the sink.
I run some cold water in the sink to get rid of the evidence as I refill the spoon. I draw in a deep breath and will myself to be steady as I flick on my lighter, heating the powder into a liquid. I dump the liquid into a syringe and insert the tip of the needle into the crook of my elbow. The drug swirls in my bloodstream, each passing second rendering me calmer. My slow ragged breaths even out and the shaking in my hand ceases. I put the cap on the syringe and wrap it in some paper towels before I toss it in the trash. I slip the baggie back in my pocket and give myself a few more minutes to get a grip. Once I feel like I can function, I open the door and head back to the rehearsal. I wait outside the sanctuary as my mom and Ashley walk back down the aisle to the cheers of their present guests.
"Glad to see you're doing better," My mom says quietly as she passes me, her eyes trained ahead.
I nod as the rest of the guests follow my mom and Ashley out of the sanctuary and down the hall to the multi-purpose room where dinner is being set up by Pete's Barbeque, my mom's favorite restaurant. The tables are full of large trays of smoked meat and hamburger rolls, mac n' cheese, green beans, and baked beans. The next table over is filled with desserts, many of which are pies from Mrs. Arthurs. Everyone hops in line, but I go sit down at the table that has my nametag at the head of a plate. I pull out my phone and scroll through my messages, even though no one has contacted me since I left L.A. five months ago. Some friends I have.
"Hey, Jasper, not hungry?" Mrs. Arthurs smiles as she pulls up a chair next to me.
"Not really," I say as I slip my phone back into my pocket, my hands shaking again.
"Are you sure? You're shaking." Mrs. Arthurs takes my hand in hers and rubs circles on the back of it. "When was the last time you ate a real meal?"
"Last night." I mumble, willing my hands to stop shaking.
I guess Mateo cut this with something. The high should not be wearing off this quickly.
"Let me get you something to eat, sweetheart."
I don't protest as she stands up to get me food, even though both she and I know I won't eat it. I watch as my mom, Ashley, and Sophie come towards the table with plates laden with food. Sophie looks at me and then turns away shyly as her dad leads her to the seat across from me. My mom sits down in between me and Sophie as Ashley takes the seat across from her. Mrs. Arthurs comes a few minutes later and sets down a plate in front of me before taking the open seat next to me. My mom and Ashley stand up and go to the front of the room, thanking everyone for coming and then joining us all in prayer. I stare down at my nails where there are still flecks of black nail polish from a month ago. Once the prayer is finished, my mom and Ashley come back to the table and sit down, beginning to eat their meal. I move food around my plate with a fork, the smell making me nauseous. My mom looks at me but doesn't say a word.
"So, Jasper, what have you been up to?" Ashley asks as he takes a bite of the pulled pork on his plate.
"Don't pretend she didn't tell you about the hospital." I reply sarcastically as I pull the small plate of pie Mrs. Arthurs brought me. "You damn well know I haven't been at a job or anything."
"Do you have to use language like that in church? In front of your little sister?" My mom narrows her eyes at me as I take a bite of the blueberry pie.
"She's not my little sister." I mumble and take another bite of pie. It's the only food I've been able to keep down in days.
"She's going to be in three days," My mom snaps, setting her fork down. "And I don't appreciate the way you're treating her and your stepfather."
"Would you prefer I just leave?" I shout a bit louder than I meant to.
A few people turn around, their eyes glued to our table.
"Maybe it'd be better until you get yourself in order," My mom says, not meeting my glare.
She is staring at Sophie, who is crying silently and eating her mac n' cheese. Ashley, though, is glaring right back at me, his fists clenched on the table. I push myself away from the table, dropping my napkin into my untouched dinner food.
"I can tell when I'm not wanted. I won't taint your perfect family anymore." I say scathingly, fully aware of everyone's eyes on me. "I'm sure no one would want to be related to deadbeat like me."
"Jasper, I know this isn't the family you're used to. Maybe it isn't even the family you want, but it's something. We all love you, we all want you to be apart of it, but you have to stop pushing against it." My mom says quietly, trying to keep the situation from escalating.
"This isn't my family."
"Because it doesn't have Charlie?" My mom bites her lip. "You think I don't think about him every day of my life and wish he was here? You think that I don't wake up crying in the middle of the night because I heard a train whistle? You think that night you came to me with Mrs. Arthurs doesn't play on a constant loop in my head?"
"If all this stuff happens, then why are you trying to replace him?"
"I am not replacing him. This is a new chapter, and I know if Charlie was here, he would be happy for me."
"If Charlie was here, I probably wouldn't be in as bad a shape as I am now."
I stalk out of the room, the tension building in my emaciated frame. I hear footsteps and sobbing behind me as my mother follows me out, some of her guests coming to the doorway.
"Jasper Johnathan Coven you stop right now." I turn at the sound of my full name.
"Don't call me that," I scream, my voice sounding hoarse. "I hate that you gave me his name."
"Well you sure are acting like him right now." My mom yells as Ashley comes to stand right behind her, his hand on her waist. "You're rude, sarcastic, chemically-dependent, and exhausting to be around. I thought if I left you alone about everything, you'd mellow out, you'd act like a person again. I thought maybe you'd stop fighting me on everything."
"That's exactly what you did with him and look how it turned out." I brush a frustrated tear from my eye.
"What am I supposed to do, Jasper? People are trying everything for you and you're just ignoring them."
"Doesn't mean you should ignore me. I clearly have a problem, mom." I yell back, my knuckles turning white.
"You do, but you don't want to do anything about it, Jasper. You don't even care if it kills you. How am I supposed to help you if you don't care?"
"You're supposed to be my mother. You're supposed to care for me and support me even when it gets hard. You're not supposed to leave me to be someone else's problem."
"At some point you have to grow up and solve your own problems." My mom exhales a deep breath and rubs the tears from her cheeks. "I think it's time for you to go."
"If I go, I'm not coming back."
"That's your choice." My mom turns on her heel and elbows through the crowd that's gathered by the door.
The crowd disperses as I turn on my heel and begin to walk towards the front doors of the church. I hear footsteps behind me, but I don't look to see who they are until they grab me by the shoulder in the parking lot. They spin me around and I find myself face to face with Ashley.
"Jasper, you need to get help." Ashley says in a serious tone, and I chuckle. "Heroin addiction isn't a joke."
"What? Are you gonna tell me now that you were a heroin addict and you overcame your addiction and, now you're a man of God?"
"My wife was addicted to heroin." Ashley admits, tucking his hands into his pockets. "She died of an overdose while Sophie and I were visiting my parents in Arizona. Sophie is the one who found her lying on the floor."
I bite my lip, the tension in my shoulders releasing a bit as I realize how little I know about him.
"I don't want you to pity me or Sophie, Jasper, that's not why I told you. I told you because I want you to know how serious this addiction is. Your mom and I and Sophie do truly love you and we don't want to find you dead on the floor with a needle in your arm." Ashley pulls a card out of his wallet. "There's this great rehab place in Austin. You should seriously consider checking yourself in. You have so much life left to live."
I accept the card from him, but I don't say a word.
"Jasper, I know you won't accept me as your father. I wouldn't expect you to after everything your father did to you. But please accept that I care about you, that I love you, and that I want what's best for you."
When I don't reply, Ashley nods and turns on his heel as he heads back towards the church.
"Ashley," He turns around when I call his name. "I'm sorry."
"I hope that's an 'I'm sorry I'll do better' and not an 'I'm sorry but I'm still going to keep using.'" Ashley locks eyes with me, his gaze telling me that he knows in his heart that it can't be the first one.
He heads back inside as I unlock my truck and slip into the front seat. I pull out of the church parking lot and drive towards my old house. I kill the lights when I pull into the circular driveway in front of the house that looks polished and new because I gave Robin complete control over the renovations after I moved out. The porch has been ripped apart and put back together with a fresh coat of paint. Robin also put rocking chairs and a swing on the porch to make the place look more inviting. The door is a bright, gleaming red and the new lion knocker has been polished to perfection. Even the garden beds in front of the house look new with flowers and deep green bushes growing in two neat squares on either side of the front steps.
I take my keys out of the ignition and lock my truck as I walk up the front steps and sit in one of the rocking chairs overlooking the expanse of trees that lead to the gate my father built to keep the animals in. I rock slowly, trying to calm myself down from the agitation of my fight with my mom. I pull out the baggie and a new syringe, knowing the only way I'll be calmed down is when I nod off. I heat up more powder and pour the resulting liquid into a syringe. It doesn't take me long to locate a vein as mine poke out like purple snakes all over my pale skin. As the heroin is released into my bloodstream, I lean back and close my eyes.
"Do you really think that's going to solve your problems?" I open my eyes wide as I see my brother standing right in front of me.
I reach out for him, but I only feel air.
"You know I'm not real." Charlie crosses his arms over his chest. "And the relief you think you get from these drugs isn't real either."
"Well, that's a lie." I smirk as I lean back in the chair. "I've never felt more at peace."
"At peace?" Charlie's ghost replies sarcastically.
I open my eyes and find him standing right in front of me in his Astros baseball tee and his favorite pair of blue jeans, his ghostly wrists covered in string bracelets.
"You're at peace living on the brink of death?" He sits down in the rocking chair next to me. "Are you at peace knowing that you're pushing away everyone who loves you? At peace knowing that you could overdose or catch some disease from your needles? At peace knowing that you're turning into our father?"
"Why does everyone keep saying that?" I roar and grip the edges of my rocking chair. "Not every heroin addict is the same."
"Yeah, not every heroin addict is the same, but you just so happen to be acting like dad. Yelling at mom? Cursing at everyone? Not moving from one place for days at a time? Face it, Jasper, you are him. You started doing drugs to escape your past, escape your depression, but in the end, you're always going to come out of the high and the memories are still going to be there. You just won't be the same person you were before."
"Someday, I'm hoping I won't come out of the high." I say as I prepare another syringe. "Then I'll be able to see you."
"That's not how it works, Jasper. It's not your time. There's so much life left for you to live."
"I want to see you again, Charlie, I miss you."
"Jasper, I'm not coming back. You can't keep punishing mom for trying to make a better life for herself. She spent twenty years with a man who treated her like shit. She deserves to move on with someone who makes her happy, and she wants you to come with her. You can't live in limbo for the rest of your life."
"What if I want to?"
"You don't want to, and deep down, you know that too." Charlie stands up from his rocking chair. "I hate seeing you do this to yourself."
"Have you seen all of it?"
"Jasper, I've been with you since I died. I've never left your side, even in L.A."
"I'm sorry you've had to see all this."
"You can stop it. You can do better."
"This is the first time I've talked to you in years, Charlie." I say in a dreamy voice, his words barely registering in my drug-addled brain.
"I'm not real, Jasper."
"I think you are. The heroin brought us together again." I laugh softly as I stare up at his ghost.
"This is the last time I'm going to come to you like this." Charlie crosses his arms over his chest. "I won't let you keep getting high just cause you think you'll see me. I'm not coming back, but just know that every time you shoot up, every time you yell at mom, every time you go to the hospital, you are breaking my heart. I am begging you to stop."
I watch as Charlie's ghost walks away, fading into the hazy moonlight. I lean back in the rocking chair and close my eyes as my breathing slows down.