To Here Knows When

My grandmother always told me to count my blessings. She always made sure I knew how privileged my family was compared to many of the other families in our small town. I never truly understood that until I got into high school. My family was constantly pressuring me to be perfect. I could never live up to their expectations. Never. I never did well in school; I always did well enough to pass but never sufficient to satisfy them. They didn’t like the way I presented myself. My clothes were always too baggy, my hair was always too long, and my personality was always too feminine or non-conforming. No matter what I did, it was never good enough.

Finally, one night, I just snapped, I guess. I packed my stuff, and I walked out the door. I left a note under my parent’s bedroom door for them to find in the morning. “Dearest mother, I wish I could have been the perfect child. I wish I could have been the trophy child you wanted me to be. I wish I could have had excellent grades like Annie. I wish I could have been athletic like Ben. But I never will be. I have caused you stress all your life, and you push me no less. So here is my departure. You may never see me again, but I doubt you will miss me. And to my father, I never cared much for you. To both of you, I wish you a tremendous fair well.

Sincerely, Jackson”.

Although I never did well in school, English was always my strong suit. I still think back on what I wrote in that letter and question whether I went a bit overboard. I hope, however, that I drove the point forward. And with that, I did never see them again.

I knew I would have a place to stay since my older brother had left years ago, around the same age I did. From the age of fourteen, he lived on the streets. He couch-surfed for a couple of years, but eventually, his friends grew tired of his bullshit and stopped helping him. He was known for being a sponge. Finally, he bought a cheap, run-down house on the south side of town when he was seventeen.

Shortly after I moved in with my brother, I received the news that both my parents were killed in a brutal car accident. My brother took it hard. He became extremely depressed for the next year or two. He tried to kill himself a couple of times before being sent to a psych ward for a week. However, I didn’t take their death hard at all; I found it difficult to feel empathy for my loved ones and how it affected them. I did feel something that day. I felt liberated. I knew that from that day forward, I was entirely on my own. That I was responsible.

It’s been about three years since the accident and since I left home. I start my sophomore year of high school in a week. Life is undoubtedly more challenging on my own. I started working as soon as I turned fourteen full-time. If I’m not at school, I’m working. I get maybe two hours of sleep at night before I wake up to go to school, then head off to work as soon as the bell lets us out. I don’t make much money, but it’s just enough to get by on my own. I pay half of the rent and utilities, but my brother hardly ever pays his share, so I pay all of it most months. Although my life might be more complicated than most kids my age, I do not and never will regret leaving. I will take independence at the cost of responsibility any day.

September 1st, 2002

Tomorrow is my birthday. My girlfriend will be visiting. I haven’t seen her for the better part of a month. She doesn’t visit me often; her parents aren’t fond of my lifestyle. They think I’m a good-for-nothing “hood-rat.” I understand their views; however, sometimes I wished they would see me the way my girlfriend saw me. I don’t visit her too often either as I don’t have a car and she lives pretty far from me. She grew up in a wealthy household in the white suburbs of town. It was about a thirty-minute bike ride, and between school and work, I could never find the time. My boss gave all the high schoolers at work a week off to prepare for school. Instead, I’m going to use that time to spend with her.

That night, I went to bed pensive but ecstatic for her arrival. No matter how long it’s been since we’ve last seen each other, I’m still equally as excited to see her. The following day, I probably cleaned myself better than I have in my entire life. Finally, I heard the doorbell. It felt like a cage full of butterflies was suddenly opened in my stomach. I opened the door, and before I said a word, she nearly knocked me to the floor with her embrace. It was comforting, but for a second, I felt a strange dysphoria, like what was happening wasn’t supposed to be happening. It didn’t feel real. I wasn’t meant to be this happy, but I was. We said our hellos and went to sit on the couch. We sat down for a few minutes, not watching TV or doing much of anything, and just sitting and enjoying each other’s company. Suddenly, she looked at me with a face of pure despair. She continued to look at me as if she had to say something, but her jaw was locked. “Babe, is something wrong?” I asked her, incredibly concerned at this point.

Suddenly, she buried her head in my chest and began sobbing. I was still wholly clueless but growing increasingly worried. My brain started to spiral, thinking about all the things it could have been. Was she breaking up with me? Was she seeing someone else? Did someone die? I stumbled over my words, “Hey, if you need to say something, I’m here; I love you.”

She sat in silence for a second before speaking up again, barely able to speak, “My mom is drinking again.“.

With that single sentence, my heart shattered into hundreds of pieces. I knew her mom had drinking problems in the past. She opened up about how her mom used to abuse her and her siblings when they were younger. She would drink and drink until all she could feel was anger, and then she would strike. At that moment, I imagined it happening to her again, breaking me to my core. My mind went numb. All I managed to utter was, “I’m sorry.”

She continued for a while. I was eventually able to calm her down. “You can stay here as long as you need.“, I said, “I love you a lot.“.

“Thank you so much. I love you too.“, Melody said while wiping the tears from her cheek.

“Can I make you something to eat?” I asked.

“That would be nice.“, said Melody.

I’ve loved cooking ever since I was a little kid. Cooking meals for her is one of my favorite things to do. I made her favorite comfort meal: a grilled cheese sandwich with homemade tomato soup. I began to chop tomatoes when she walked up behind me and started massaging my shoulders. Suddenly, it was as if every negative emotion that I had ever felt was suddenly erased. I was whole.

I finished the meal and handed it to her on a paper plate with a cup of iced tea. She always said I brewed the perfect iced tea. She took a bite out of the sandwich and then a spoonful of the soup, “This is incredible, Jack.“.

“Well, thank you.“, I replied, “It’s my grandma’s recipe.“.

“You have to show me that recipe someday.“, she said with her mouth full.

I’ve made her the meal about a hundred times, and every time, she says the same thing. She never really had as much interest in cooking as I did. I think she just enjoyed hearing me tell her the recipe every time she asked. Either way, it was nice to know she cared.

She finished her meal, and we went to sit on the couch and watch a movie. I put on her favorite movie, Back to the Future. I wrapped my arm around her, and she rested her head on my shoulder. The movie began, and my mind faded out of focus. I was taken to a mental universe of pure euphoria. Something about that moment made me feel important, more than I ever had before. She turned to me with this stunning look in her eyes. A look that could cure the world of agony. She leaned in slowly, and we began to kiss. It was then I felt complete.

We were suddenly interrupted by the phone ringing in the kitchen. I ignored it for a second and continued kissing. “Maybe you should take that.“, she said, “It could be important.“.

“It’s not important.“, I said, “It’s probably my brother calling me to go bail him out of jail or something.“.

The phone continued to ring, and I continued to ignore it. I leaned back in to kiss her again. “I think you should take that.“, she said while lightly pushing me away.“.

“Ugh, fine.“, I said, now slightly annoyed, “It’s probably something stupid.“.

I picked up the phone, and to my surprise, it was Beck. Beck was my childhood best friend who I have not talked to since he was homeschooled last year. “Jack, I need your help.“, he said, sounding like he had just seen a ghost.

“Of course, man. What’s up?” I replied, now mildly concerned.

“My dad just kicked me out of the house. I need a place to stay. I will pay rent, I will pay utilities, I will buy groceries, anything you need. I can’t live on the street, dude.“, he said sporadically.

“Oh man, I’m so sorry. Just come over here, dude, we will figure it out. Don’t worry about a thing.“. I said sympathetically.

Beck had never had a good relationship with his father. Beck was very skinny and effeminate in appearance. He had long hair and took excellent care of his hygiene. He dressed in all black most of the time and listened to edgy music. His father, on the other hand, was a redneck conservative and was hyper-obsessed with masculinity. Naturally, they never got along. Still, I was surprised and confused about why his father would kick him out.

About fifteen minutes had passed when he knocked on my door. When I opened the door, he didn’t say a word; he immediately embraced me. An embrace that, despite only lasting a couple of seconds, felt like an eternity. “Do you want me to get you a glass of water?” I asked.

“Yes, please.“, he said, sounding like he had just got done crying on the way here.

I handed him a glass of water, and the three of us sat down at the table in the dining room. “What happened? If you don’t mind me asking.“, I inquired.

“I’m not too sure myself, honestly.“, said Beck, “Me and my dad got into a huge argument, and all of a sudden, he told me to pack my bags and get out, that I wasn’t allowed to live there anymore.“.

“I’m sorry, man.“, I replied, “Don’t worry about rent or anything; I got you. All you have to pay for is food; everything else is covered.“.

“Thank you so much. You have no idea how much this means to me.“, he said.

“Of course. Anytime, dude.“, I said.

As Beck sipped from his cup, I noticed a streak of red by his lips and black around his left eye. My first thought that he did may have struck him during their argument. “Hey dude, what’s that on your face?” I asked curiously.

“Oh well, um, it’s makeup.“, Beck said nervously.

“Damn.“, I said, confused, “Well, no judgment here, I guess.“.

“Thanks.“, Beck said snarkily.

Beck was always an interesting dude, but I can’t help but love the guy. He was always there for me when I was lowest, and now it was my turn to return the favor.