Blue Jays

Ray drove slowly as he passed through the neighborhood where he was raised. Something about the way the sun fell on the street that day made him expect to see his Mom standing on the porch, waiting for him to come back from his friend's house down the block. She would have chided him for almost having missed dinner and to go on inside and wash up. Once he was out and washed, his bowl of her beef stew and rice would be on the table, steaming fresh. He’d always take a spoonful too soon in excitement and would burn nearly every taste bud off his tongue. He never learned to wait for it to cool down. It was his favorite meal of hers that she’d make and they didn’t have it often since the beef was too expensive to buy frequently.

He pulled into the driveway, weeds sprouting from the cracks. There was no one waiting on the porch. The inside seemed dark and empty. Yet he knew that his father was awake. He was an early riser, always had been.

Ray got out of his car and walked across the unkempt lawn. He stepped in a puddle and cursed to himself. Stepping out of it he could feel his shoe was soaked through and the water made its way to his sock. He had no real notion of fate but if anything could have been an omen, that was it.

He stepped up onto the porch and knocked on the screen door that was loosely attached to the frame. He wiped his shoe while he waited.

No response.

He knocked again. Harder.

“Coming.” He heard faintly on the other side.

Ray stepped back and away from the door. He crossed his arms. He uncrossed them.

The door opened behind the screen door. From the shadows of the house’s interior emerged a face with tired eyes and scant remnants of a beard that were now wisps of thin silver hair.

“Hey, Foster. How are you?”

The old man looked at the space behind Ray, as if checking for something that he expected to be there.

“Can I come in?”

The old man unhooked the screen door and pushed it open. “Yeh, come on in. Just don’t doddle.” He retreated back into the shadows.

Ray caught the wooden door and walked inside.

The smell of mildew and cheap coffee permeated through the house, just as it did when he was a child.

“Don’t forget to close the door behind you.”

Ray closed the door. He caught a glimpse of a door that was cracked open. It was his room, from when he was a teen. Through the crack he saw what looked like a litter box.

“I was just making some breakfast, you want some?”

Ray followed Foster through a thin doorway and into the kitchen. There was cheap-looking square green table against the window that overlooked the front yard. He looked at the stove and into the sizzling pan which held a mess of what he assumed to be scrambled eggs. Some of it was undercooked and others looked to be stale and overcooked.

“I got ketchup,” Foster said helpfully.

“I’m not very hungry. Thanks though.”

“Suit yourself. Go ahead and take a seat.”

Ray pulled out a chair and sat at the table. Foster turned his eggs. Ray tapped on the cheap feeling table top with his forefinger, waiting for Foster to finish.

“You heard about that wreck down on 59 south?” Inquired Foster.

Ray tapped his finger harder. “No. I did not.”

“Teenagers. They were racing and went down the underpass. Guess they didn’t take into account the steep drop that particular strip of highway has and maybe caught some air and lost control. One of ’em died. Real shame.”

“Sure is. Shouldn’t have been doing that in the first place.”

Foster laughed to himself. “Funny you say that. It reminded me of something you would have done when you were younger.”

“I would not have done something that dumb.”

“Ay, don’t speak of the dead like that. Disrespectful.”

“Alright, then the kid that survived. He was being fucking stupid.”

“Didn’t your mom one time find a ticket in your room that you were trying to hide from us? How much more than the speed limit did they clock you?”

Ray bounced his leg. “I don’t remember.”

Foster looked up at the ceiling in recollection. “I think I do, lemme see.”

Ray bit the inside of his cheek.

“I think it was fifty over, now that I recall, somewhere around there. You’re mom gave you hell for that one, that I sure do remember.”

Ray stood up sharply. “Alright man, I didn’t come here for all of that. I’m here to help you out and if this is all I’m gonna get then I’m just gonna go ahead and leave.”

“Relax, kid. Let me just finish my eggs and eat some breakfast. Now go ahead and take a seat. You want some coffee? I’ll brew us a fresh batch of Foldger’s”

Ray slid the palm of his right hand down his face and sat back down. “Yeah. Sure.”

“Alright.”

Ray had his elbows on the tabletop and started to bite his nails. Once aware of it he stopped and crossed his arms in front of him. The only sound in the house was the sizzling eggs. Unable to let the silence sink in, Ray spoke up. “So what’s that in my room?”

“You’re room? You still live here?”

“You know what I mean. My old room. You haven’t got rid of that litter box from Mom’s old cat?”

“No, I still have it.”

“That cat passed before she did. And you still have it?”

“Well, I didn’t see the point in letting it go.”

“You at least changed the litter?”

Foster smiled. “Changed it earlier today.” He set a stained glass coffee pot under an old coffee maker and scooped the ground coffee into the filter, sliding it in above the pot. He set it to brew and the machine began to make a jutting mechanical noise as the coffee dripped into the pot.

“Must have been hard on you, keeping that cat. I know you hate animals and all.”

“Wasn’t easy, but it made your mom’s days easier. So I tolerated it.”

“Not like you tolerated my dog.”

Foster looked over at Ray. “Ray, that thing just ran off. I had nothing to do with it.”

“I don’t know. You hated that I had him. I could tell.”

Foster scooped his eggs onto a paper plate and went and sat down at the table. “I’m telling the truth here. Sure, I wasn’t very happy with it, but that dog was here before me and your mom married, so who was I to do something like what you’re suggesting?”

“Larry.”

“What was that?”

“His name was Larry.”

“That’s right. Thank you for reminding me.”

Ray sat back in his chair. Foster squirted the last remnants of ketchup from a nearly empty bottle onto his eggs.

Ray let out a sigh from deep in his lungs. “So, how much did you need to borrow?”

Foster chewed on a hefty spoonful of eggs.

Ray pulled out his wallet. “Tell you what, I’ll just leave a couple hundred and you can get it back to me-”

“Put that away.”

Ray looked up.

Foster was watching him with a sharp look, a look that took Ray back to the time when he was a teenager and he had come home late from his friend's house. He went there straight after school and stayed there until late into the night. He was drunk and had driven home himself. When he walked in, his mother was at the dinner table with her head in her hands, crying. She asked him how he could be so selfish and indifferent to his safety, to which he told her, with breath that singed her nose, that he was fine and had done this plenty of times before. She walked away, still crying, and disappeared into the hallway. Foster was standing there, silent, giving him that same look.

He tucked his wallet into his back pocket.

“Thank you.” Foster resumed chewing.

“Do you still have my Dad’s electric guitar?”

“It’s in the closet.”

“Would have figured you’d have pawned it by now.”

Foster shoveled another spoonful of eggs into his mouth.

“Can I have it?”

Foster looked up at him, still chewing. He looked down again. “Sure. It was never mine to begin with.”

“I’ve been trying to learn. Maybe see if any of his talent rubbed off on me.”

Foster raised his eyebrows.

“You know what my mom used to call him?”

Foster swallowed. “Blue Jay,” he said dryly.

“I’m surprised you knew that. Didn’t think you wanted to hear anything about him,” Ray said sardonically.

“Your mother would tell me things about him sometimes. She didn’t do it often but it would happen. She’d try her best not to let it show but she was still kind of lost without him. She’d hide it because she knew I hated seeing her like that. I would want to help her but there was no real way I could. So instead, I got angry.”

“Yeah. I remember.”

“I’m not proud of how I acted back then. But I’d be hard pressed to say, if I had a chance to go back, that I would do things differently.”

Ray fought the urge to punch him.

Foster sensed this and smiled. “I just know myself and who I was in those days. I remember how, when she would talk about him, even for those little moments, it was like he was coming back to life. You could have seen it in her eyes and how wide they would get. She would slowly turn into that hopelessly in love teenager that she was when she first met him. And I knew that I never made her feel that way on my own merit. Her heart still belonged to him.”

“…”

“I imagine she must have seen so much of him in you. Maybe I did too, even though I’d never met him. Her eyes would make that same expression when she would talk about you. That never changed. From when she first told me she had a son on our first date to when she was lying on that hospital bed, hardly even able to breathe.” Foster shook his head.

Something was keeping Ray from looking up at Foster. Something that had always been there between them. For the most part it was never made apparent, silently erecting itself when they would happen to be in the same room as one another. Yet there were times when it felt so real that Ray could have reached out and touched it. And, oddly enough, at its most tangible was when this wall was also at its most fragile. All it would need was a little push. Yet the moments in which this could have been done, both men shied away from this, choosing to avert their eyes and leaving whatever it was that could have been in the realm of almosts and could haves.

“Did you hate me?” Ray asked.

Foster smiled. “I couldn’t bring myself to. Don’t get me wrong, you were a pain in the ass sometimes, but you were just a teenager.”

“I always thought you did.”

“I was just jealous, I think. Or more so you were a living reminder of what I couldn’t be for your mom. I believe she loved me, but the way she felt about you was something more than that. It was closer to something religious, something so bright and beautiful that I couldn’t hardly understand it. But I wanted to. I just never put in the effort. I let my own feelings of dejection and jealousy take over too often.”

Ray sank into his seat and looked out the window. A car passed on the otherwise empty street. The shadow of the white oak in the front lawn faded as the sun withdrew from the sky. The coming twilight felt somber, the dying light strewn with misery and heartache.

“I could have done a better job at letting you be a father.”

“I’m not you’re father. You took every chance you could get to remind me of that when you were growing up. I came into you’re family when you were already so grown and in your eyes I was an intruder. And maybe some part of you was asking why the hell that intruder is now living in the house you grew up in. Where your actual father lived and raised you until he passed away. But, still, looking up at you from that pew and watching you give your mother’s eulogy filled me with a pride I didn’t know I ever had the possibility to feel. It was like at that moment I realized that you had become a man, right before my eyes.”

Ray looked down at his cupped hands resting on his thighs. “Why didn’t you speak up at her service? Do you know how much that would have meant to everyone if you had?”

“It wasn’t my place to. I still believe that. I hadn’t lost what you lost. I’m not saying that I didn’t love her with my entire being, because I was in shambles, barely able to keep myself together. But what you had lost then, I can’t even fathom. She was a part of the foundation that made you who you are. And she was gone. I just knew that, if I was in your position, I wouldn’t have been able to get out of bed, let alone speak like you did that day. She would have been so much happier to know that it was you.”

“But isn’t there anything you feel like you need to say? She was gone so suddenly. There must have been something that was left unsaid.”

“What is there to say? I should have paid more attention to what was happening. I should have been more patient or understanding. I should have done a lot of things when she was alive. Instead of waiting until we had too little time to do anything to make up for that time lost to all that nastiness. But I don’t see the point in harping on that stuff anymore. Just seems like a waste of time and energy, and I don’t have much of either these days.” He shifted in his chair.

Ray sat up. “But how can you just let those things go? Wasn’t all of that all a huge part of your life? How many years were you together? I don’t know, it’s almost like none of it matters to you anymore.”

He was silent for a while, seeming thoughtful. “Well, it was either I let go or hang on. And what I was holding onto wasn’t just the memories. Those are always going to be with me. What I was holding onto were the regrets. They used to determine a lot about what I did and how I saw the world. I got to be so hateful. Chalk full of resentment. I feel like I lost a part of myself during that time. Not that there was much of myself that I would have grieved for, but that’s besides the point. But one day I was walking downtown to go pawn her engagement ring because I needed some money. Yeah I know I could have asked you, but I didn’t want to, so don’t give me that look. Anyways, I was walking down the sidewalk and I saw this kitten huddled up in a corner. She wasn’t moving and her eyes were closed. The only way I could have told it was alive was because she was shivering. I’ve never known myself to give such a creature a second look, but I suppose something in me shifted, not at that moment, mind you, but before that, at some point that I couldn’t determine even if I had the time or inclination to try. So I walked towards it, but when I got too close, she woke up and got up on all fours, ready to run. I stopped still and slowly crouched down, which was absolute hell on my knees by the way. She didn’t move. She just watched me. I opened up my palm to show her I didn’t have anything in it and reached over but stopped shy of about two feet from her. And right when she began to ease up, some bastard pushed open the door and hit me with it. I lost my balance and fell. When I stood up and he stopped apologizing to me, I looked over and she was gone. I knew she had to be hiding somewhere nearby, so I went looking.” Foster laughed to himself, a ragged, wheezing laughter. “Now that must have been a sight. Some old man on his knees looking under random cars for some cat. Anyway, eventually I found her under some shittily parked Crown Vic. She wouldn’t come out no matter how hard I tried, so I went to the coffee shop on the corner and bought a kolache. Once I was back to where she was, I tore up the kolache, took out the meat and started coaxing her with it. It took some time, but her stomach got the best of her and by the time she finished the meat, she was in my arms. Her fur was matted with gunk and what I assumed to be blood and she smelled something awful. I took her home with me, gave her some more food and took her a bath. She truly did test my patience with that. My forearms were covered in scratches. But she was already here in my house and letting her go didn’t feel like an option anymore. So I got her cleaned up and made her a little bed with some extra bed sheets. She must have been exhausted because she snuggled up into them and fell asleep in no time. After that, I sat down right here in this chair and just took a minute to breathe, listening to her purr. I felt something in my pocket that was jabbing at my leg. I took it out and held it in my hand. I forgot how shiny that ring looked when it was in the light, but under that morning sun, it was a sight to see.

“Now I could tell you I would have never subjected myself to all that before. I would have thought it an absolute waste of time to entertain some street cat.”

At that instant, a calico leapt up onto the tabletop. Its fur was clean and shone in the sunlight. Its tail was standing upright, rigid at its base and curved closer to the tip as if in curiosity. It was sniffing around as if searching for something and paid no mind to those who sat at the table. Foster ran his bony hand along the length of the cat with gentle firmness. The cat embraced his touch, contouring her body to its stroke.

“But now- I don’t know- I guess the world sorta opened up for me. I’m doing things that I know in my heart she would have done if she were here. But it’s not like I’m doing those things out of obligation to her or her memory. They feel natural to me now. I said before how I’ve lost some things since she passed, but I feel like I gained some things too. I realized that I had changed. That I wasn’t my old self anymore. Once I realized that, I could see that I was able to appreciate things I hadn’t been able to before. I saw life through a different lens and it felt more tolerable. Less like a drudge through the muck and more like an uphill march, so to speak.”

Ray didn’t speak. He just watched Foster scratch the top of the tabby’s head with his forefinger. He could hear it purr and Foster wore a little smile on his face that he was sure he wasn’t aware of. He wondered if he had shown him the same amount of affection when he was younger. The kind that he wasn’t aware of when it was happening. He couldn’t recall any particular times when that was the case, but he felt in his heart that it just as easily could have happened. Maybe when he had fallen asleep on the couch when he was a child and Foster would have had to carry him to his bed. Or when Ray changed his car’s oil himself for the first time. Ray could see that same smile in those moments he was sure happened, that he trusted to have happened.

“What’s her name?”

“Olivia.”

Ray looked at her with soft eyes. “It’s a good fit for her.”

“I think so too.”

He said his goodbyes to his father and walked out the door and onto the porch. The shrill cry of cicadas filled the late summer air. The day's heat began to give way to the evening coolness. Once down the steps, a shadow swooped down from the branches and onto the leaf-choked gutter above him. He glanced over and saw that there were two blue jays perched there. Ray stopped to stare at the pair, which stared back at him with a sharp look. The sharp cerulean of their plumage had him mesmerized. He hadn’t even had time to react when they flew away and down the street, their jeers echoing through the avenue from beyond his vision.

Ray smiled at himself before getting into his car, laying the guitar case in the passenger seat, and leaving the neighborhood, looking at the street of his childhood through the rear view mirror.

#

#

#

#

#