When Mom left the first message on my machine. I could hear it from bed. The combination of a head cold and the usual unhealthy lifestyle choices leading to severe dehydration (ie dew dew smokes and more dew smokes maybe alcohol dew dew dew) had me in a fetal position weepy and whimpering and attempting to referee my children without losing my voice most of the day. She’d said something about Thanksgiving plans, something about checking on me. I should have known that was code for “needing me” but I didn’t get up and get the phone. Later that evening the machine clicked on again and her voice filled the nook we now have the computer in.
“Dew? Dew are you there?…” and I picked up because her voice told me something had happened. I always think death. I’m not sure if that’s normal or symptomatic of my life. So I picked up the phone fast before she could make such a thing permanent on my machine and I held my breath waiting for her to tell me who stopped breathing this time. As it turned out no one new had died. It was the same old death.
“Your brother just took off…. He has your dad. He’s so upset. You know he’s always had the hardest time… youngest… only boy…. Poor Tyler….He got right in Boyfriend’s face…..he was yelling and angry” and eventually through the scattered bits of her crying and inebriation I slowly realize my brother is out stalking the southeast Portland streets with a bag of ashes formerly referred to as Dad. Finally someone had fucking stolen Dad away from Mom.
Jesus.
*****
“Hey sisser.”
“You sound terrible.”
“Yeah. It’s a head cold. So listen. I think Tyler is probably going to be showing up at your place soon. Drunk. …… With… Dad.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah. Just wanted to warn you to keep an eye out for him. Call me when he gets there.”
*****
“Hey. Dew, he’s here.”
“Oh good. I was getting worried. But really. Where the fuck was he going to go on foot with a bag-o-dad? I was thinking I’d have to hike Powell Butte in the dark.”
“Why there?”
“Scene of the crime.”
“I think you better come over here. He’s really drunk.”
*sigh*
*****
“Deeeeew!” he greeted me when my sister let me in her apartment. He was holding a beer in each hand and drinking from both of them.
“Hey.” I shuffled into her apartment. During the drive on the way over I felt oddly calm. As if something I’m always waiting for had finally revealed itself again and begun to unfold. It’s like that when you’re always reading ahead in the circular story. Deon was holding a beer, too.
“What’s the matter with her? She’s not going to cheer me up!” he said to Deon.
“I told you she’s more depressed than you are.” Deon’s tone was already exasperated.
“I have a head cold. I barely got out of bed.” I complained, slipping out and around the depressed remark and perching on the edge of Deon’s couch. I marveling at how detached I felt.
“What do you want to DO, Dew? Something has to be done.”
“About what?”
“Mom is crazy. What are we going to do with Dad? Do you think about it? Does anyone THINK about it? Do you know where I found him when I got back from Idaho? In the trunk. In the trunk of the fucking car in the driveway. I had to bring him inside! And I took the ashes tonight. I took them by force. Something has to be done.”
“That’s what we’ve been saying… for a long time now, Tyler.” Deon pointed out and I nodded.
“Fighting with Mom and her boyfriend sure isn’t going to help.”
“Something has to be done! I want to drop him over a mountain. He said that’s what he wanted.”
“When? When did he say that? He said a lot of things.” Deon’s voice was bitter with truth.
“Before I left and went to Idaho we talked about it. Uncle J is on St. Helens and I want Mr. Jefferson and we could drop Dad over Mt. Hood.”
“Are you going to pay for that?” I asked. Jesus what is the deal with this mountain thing.
“That was a long time before..” Deon started and stopped.
“Well? Do YOU have a plan?” he looked at both of us accusingly.
“Well.” I cleared my throat. “As I’ve said all along….I think we should spread him where he did it. I think he picked that spot. I think it’s free and it’s a place any of us can go anytime we want. Course it‘s illegal so we‘d have to be sneaky about it.”
“Just because he did it there doesn’t mean he’d want his ashes there.”
“It’s not about him. He’s gone.” I said. Deon got up and went to the kitchen and Tyler attempted an upright position in her ginormous ugly chair.
And then he was up out of the chair and he set one of his beers on the table before pulling a blue gift bag out of his coat. He began describing the incident earlier between he and mom’s boyfriend and mom while he opened the bag. Inside the bag there was the box and then he opened the box and in the box there was a bag of ash. Oh here we go. Crazy drunk. Dad is out of the box people.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Deon asked with panic in her tone. It always sounds bizarre when she swears.
“This is DAD!” Tyler informed us, shoving the bag toward Deon.
“Yeah. I know it is. Put it back in the box.”
“Take it! Take it!” He shoved the bag into Deon’s slightly fluttering arms and she passed it back to him.
“I don’t want to vacuum Dad out of my carpets. Quit waiving it around.”
“You just don’t want to deal with it! Hold it!” and he shoved the bag of rather benign looking ash back into her hands.
I watched from the couch oddly amused as they played hot potato with a sack of deceased relative.
“What do you want me to do?” Deon asked him “Kiss it?” and she did. “You want me to roll around in it? I have dealt with it. You’re just finally catching up here Tyler. We‘ve been here all along dealing with this shit.”
“Maybe that’s why it’s all fucked up!” he retorted and took the bag back from her. “You don’t know what he said to me. You don’t know how it was.”
“YOU don’t know how it was Tyler. You weren’t here. You were gone. Nobody even knew where you were! Aunt Sue had to go searching for you to even tell you when it happened. It got bad Tyler. He said a lot of things that year.”
“Well how could you let it get that bad? Where the hell were you? He would have called me.” He wasn’t going to stop.
“He called me.” I said evenly.
“Where were YOU? Were you up at the mental hospital when he was in there? You didn’t even know what was going on.” they went on over me.
“He was never that bad when I was here. How could you let it end up that way? You should have been over there more. Just like with Mom. She‘s fucking going crazy and you never come over to see her. Off living your dream life. I came back from Idaho to take care of her and I‘m breaking my back sleeping on that couch but you never even come over. You have to come over and make her be Mom. You have to bring your kids over and make her do family stuff.”
“Mom’s an adult. You can’t make anyone do anything. Don’t you think maybe it would be better if you maybe didn’t live with Mom? Maybe you guys just need a little distance? You could have your own life? You can’t rot on her couch forever, Tyler. Worry about making something of your own life instead of telling us what we should be doing.” Deon said
“Tyler, what are you even talking about? How often do you think I should be driving over to see mom? You know she’s always invited to our functions. She just doesn’t come.” I was genuinely perplexed.
“Two or three times a week! You should be there! and you have to make her!”
“Two or three times a week!?!?!” crazy drunk indeed. “And, You can’t MAKE her! A couple years ago I made her come to Thanksgiving and she cried all the way through dinner. The kids were upset.” I informed him. “I’m done being crazy about it. I’m done making her do anything. I have my own shit to worry about.”
He snorted derisively. “You just don’t get it. You have your little dream lives and you don’t get it. I’m the one who’s there.”
“Excuse me? Dream life?” Deon nearly sputtered. I was a bit surprised to hear that twice, myself. “Just because we’re not sleeping on Mom’s couch doesn’t mean it’s a dream life or that we‘re not there. Look around Tyler.” Deon was pissed now. “I’m a single Mom. I graduated high school with honors And had a baby my senior year. I have what I have because I try. Because I’m not just sitting around blaming people and thinking they owe me.”
Deon went to the bathroom. I could hear her crying.
“You two have always had it easier than me. You didnt' even answer the phone this morning when Mom called you.”
“I'm sick!! I was in bed! People can leave a message and I can call back, Tyler. You really think we'vehad it easier than you? That’s not even true. You’re drunk.” things were getting out of hand. “I was there. I was at the mental hospital. I signed the legal release papers. I was his fucking person. I’m the one he called. And I’m the one who didn’t fucking drive over there that night. I’m the one who didn’t. me. That time I didn’t fucking go. If you want to blame someone you can fucking blame me because I‘m the one who was there. and I'm the on who‘s fucking here. I was here for him. I‘m here for mom. I‘m here for Deon right now and I‘m here for you. Who fucking drove to Idaho to get your ass so you could “be here for Mom?” Me. and by the way… it might help mom if you paid her some fucking rent. If you want to help so much. So don’t tell me who does and doesn’t do this or that and the other. It‘s always me. It‘s always going to be me. Just how it is. You have to get it together. You can‘t fix Mom. You couldn‘t have fixed Dad. You might have some chance of fixing you. maybe.”
“Well I’m out of here. I’m going to Florida or something. I can’t live with her boyfriend. So I hope you start taking better care of Mom.”
“You don’t mean that. You’re upset right now.”
And then he was angry. And he was ranting. And it was the same things over and over. And it was dad. And it was him. And he was dad. And I was done.
“I’m not leaving you here at Deon’s like this. Why don’t I give you a ride home.”
“I’m not going home!”
“You can’t sit there and yell at Deon all night. I have to get home. Where can I take you?”
“OOoooh you have to get hoooome. You can’t drink. You can’t stay up.” He made some la dee da body gestures. “You’re not taking me anywhere.”
“I have kids to get to school in the morning. You can’t stay here drunk and belligerent. Deon is upset. Let‘s call it a night. I‘ll be back tomorrow and we can figure this stuff out.”
Deon and I stepped out for a cigarette. While we were out there he gathered his things and put dad’s ashes back in his coat and left. So we drove to Moms. He was walking along with a fresh six pack when we found him. I pulled up next to him and told him to get in.
“I’m not getting in. I’m having a walk.”
“I’m going to Mom’s. So you can get in and ride in the warm car or I can wait for you in her drive way.”
“I’m walking.”
So we sat in her drive way. When he staggered up I rolled my window down. “What are you doing here?” he asked.
“I’m always here, remember?. Do you have any dew?”
“What? I have beer.” he gestured with his arms full of six pack.
“Yeah but do you have dew inside? I’m thirsty.”
“Yeah. I have dew.”
“Can I have some?”
“Yeah.”
So I did.
Next morning after the girls were in school Thatch and I drove over to Grandma’s to see how they were getting along and I was prepared for more drama. That was stupid.
“So you were just out and about and decided to drop in?” My mom asked curiously.
“Yeah what are you doing over here? I thought you said you were low on gas?” Tyler asked.
Like nothing ever happened. *wide eyed*
Dad’s back in the box for now. In a gift bag. On my mom's entertainment center.
I couldn't make this shit up.
November 30, 2009
No comments:
Post a Comment