Dismantling Evan (27 page)

“When he gets stuck, are those seizures?” I ask.

“Stuck?” Nikki looks at me oddly, then her eyes suddenly brighten. “You mean the times he is just standing there, zoned out? Yeah, those are the mild ones; they happen without a trigger sometimes.”

“Aren’t they afraid that he will have another episode?”

Nikki shrugs. “Yeah, but if they had to pick the lesser of the evils to control with meds, the seizure meds were the least. That is another reason why Brody is always so close to him, to make sure he doesn’t get overstimulated.”

I wonder what the greater of the evils is if the seizures are the lesser. Is it the break from reality Brody talked about, or his aggression, or his Obsessive Compulsive Disorder? So many evils to rank.

My mind wonders back to Gavin’s aggression and I remember him standing up to Chad for Lia at the pool.

“At Hamilton pool, Gavin stood up to Chad.  I was really proud of him. Could that have triggered a seizure?”

Nikki inches off the bed and walks around to the bathroom, “Yeah, it totally could have.”

She flips on the light and glances back at me. “He stood up to Chad? Really?”

I spin from side to side in my chair. “Yeah, I was surprised too.”

Nikki walks into the bathroom. I remember that I left my anti-depressant prescription out on the counter this morning. Did Mom take them down with her when she discovered my lapse in taking them? I get up from my chair, cross the floor and hover behind Nikki watching her lean into the mirror as she inspects her face. “Hey, Asher and I are going to head to the Fence Post. You want to go?”

“Fence Post? What is that?”

“It’s like a dance hall with billiards. A bar and grill type place. A lot of high schoolers go there on the weekends. Kind of a place to meet and hang out.”

Nikki turns to look at me. The orange bottle of pills is easily visible on the countertop. I move into the tight bathroom and lean next to her, hoping it keeps her attention on me and away from my meds. “Actually, I think I’m going to hang out here tonight.”

She folds her arms over her chest and sighs. “C’mon, Evan! It will be fun.”

I shake my head. “I would, but I think Mom and Dad have other plans for me tonight.”

She bobs her head. “True. Your ass is probably grass tonight.”

I laugh. “Yeah, you could say that.”

“K, well I’m going to get out of here and get dressed. Tomorrow I’m heading to my Grandma’s for the day, but I’ll see you on Monday.”

She leans in and hugs me and I embrace her back. It has never been natural for me to hug anyone, especially anyone other than Mom or Dad; there has never been someone I felt close enough to as a friend to hug, before. I see friends hug at school all the time, but I assume it is just for show. You know, to show everyone around them that they have bonds, flaunt their friendship with this friend or that friend. But since being here in Braxton Springs, I have found that hugging Nikki and Lia has become a natural occurrence and one that I kind of appreciate. It means I have friends that find me worthy of hugging.

DINNER IS ONLY MILDLY TENSE. I guess Mom and Dad talked and calmed each other while Nikki and I were upstairs. By the time I walk Nikki out, Mom is cooking dinner and Dad is back in the living room with the news turned up again. They cordially say goodbye to Nikki, but remain silent with me through dinner.
Fine!
I have nothing to say to them. Even if I did, the likelihood is that it would get me in even more trouble.

After our silent supper, I say goodnight, but don’t manage to escape before Mom comes at me with a bottle of pills. She opens it and hands me a small white one. “To sleep.”

She isn’t asking, she is telling me. I hold my tongue, take the pill from her hand and walk away.

“I want to see you take it, Evan,” she says flatly.

Stunned by her words, I turn slowly and stop when I am face to face with her. I pop the pill in my mouth, slip it into the crease between my upper check and molars and stick my tongue.

I spin on my heels and say a fleeting goodnight as I climb the stairs to my room. I shut my door and spit the bitter tasting pill into the toilet. I don’t flush; it would appear too obvious if they are as suspicious as I expect. The small white pill sinks to the bottom of the toilet and begins to break apart in the water.

It has been an hour since Mom and Dad turned off the television and climbed the stairs, retreating to their room. I look at the time; 12:00 a.m.

Even if Brody still plans to meet me in the shed, I can’t go down yet... too soon.  Mom and Dad will be on me like a hawk on a field mouse if they hear even the smallest sound.

1:30 a.m.

I get off my bed, take my earplugs from my ears and look out my side window. The light doesn’t shine tonight. If that is Brody’s room, he has either gone to bed or gone out. I make myself envious, thinking of him out with Nikki, Asher, and Lia at the Fence Post while I’m here, pining over his whereabouts looking out my window.

Whatever! He isn’t going to meet me after I brushed him off.

I swat at the sheer curtains bitterly, denying the voice in my head its desire to take my self-doubt to new heights. I move away from the window and flop down on my chair.

Is this the next step towards bipolar? Is this the onset? The voice in my head?

I pick up my camera and put the strap over my neck, letting the body hang down.

Leaning my head back, I twist side to side in my chair.

If it is, what does it matter? What is my little inside voice compared to the demons Gavin or Brody or Lia have to fight? A fight so persistent and insistent that it doesn’t seem like a fight any more, just a withering piecemeal of a battle with no clear and decisive way of winning - ostracized, corrupted, brutally socially tortured, or left to decide if it all is worth living for.

My demons are just a blip on the radar compared to the longevity of the Fergusons’ unrelenting and seemingly irreversible scars.

2:00 a.m.

Screw it!

I’m not going to sleep! I slip on my flip flops and pull on my grey hoodie, which looks kind of funny over red and blue plaid boxer shorts. Oh well; I don’t plan on impressing anyone.

I shut the door behind me, feeling the refreshing, but chilly coolness in the air. I hug my sweater tight around me and step from the porch into the yard. Within a few strides I’m standing at the door to the work shed my father and grandfather built. Wind rustles the fallen leaves around my feet, and the extra chill gets me moving as I open the wooden door and slip inside. It is mildly warmer in the darkened space as I feel around for a light switch. I remember seeing Dad wiring it along the short wall near the door, so I feel around.
Got it.

The bulb hangs from above with a dome porcelain shade over top of it to give it some style. I notice the traditional red toned darkroom bulb above the built in formica countertop where my developing supplies are stacked. I flip the switch next to the first and the red light comes on. I flip the switch off and look around the small but suitable space. The walls of the shed are unfinished and raw; it smells of wood. A wooden stool rests beside the countertop, near my supplies.

In our heated argument, I remember Dad saying that Mom was moving my supplies from my bedroom to the shed. She probably didn’t put them away because of what she discovered in my room. I glance up at the small window in front of me and look past my reflection into the darkness of my backyard. Can’t make out anything, but I’m sure I have a view of the green space behind our yard. I’m sure it looks beautiful during the day. Two sets of cabinets are on either side of the window. I open them to find them brushed clean of any wood shavings. Pangs of guilt, for blowing up like I did earlier, settle in. I don’t regret what I said about Celine and Mrs. O’Keefe, and how they know nothing about my friends, or the fact that the medication I’m taking isn’t working. I start putting away my supplies, when I hear a knock on the door, making me jump with surprise.

It is either my parents having caught me sneaking out to my work shed or Brody meeting me. The second is unlikely after I gave him the impression I was a class A bitch that wanted to get rid of him.
I am a total bitch. Ugh, it’s not him.

I open the door expecting to see my mom with her hands on her hips, ready to lay into me about being out here in the middle of the night, when I’m met with his masculine frame, warm smile, and hazel eyes.

“You are here,” I say to this apparition of Brody that stands in front of me in the open doorway.

He moves into the space with me and I close the door behind him.

“Why wouldn’t I be? You invited me, right?” he asks, scratching the side of his nose. Standing in the middle of the small space, Brody tucks his hands in his faded jean pockets and waits for me to answer.

“Uh, yeah. I did. I just didn’t think you would come when you gave me that nod today when you left.”

I lean against the door. Feeling the rush of blood to my head. I compare the cool and smooth but direct question Brody laid on me and the rather candid response I just vomited back at him. Yes, vomit is uncontrollable and what I just said was uncontrolled and snotty.

“Yeah, well your invitation sounded sketchy at the front door when you tried to get rid of me, so I wasn’t sure until I saw the light go on in here.” Brody nods up to the light bulb hanging above us.

Sketchy invitation, getting rid of him... yeah, I deserve that. It isn’t true though. “I’m sorry, I just wanted to spare you from my parents.”

Good answer, Evan.

Brody walks over to the remaining supplies on the counter as he asks, “Are you sure that is it or is there something else.”

I watch the side of his face and notice his brow furrow as he takes in the supplies.

I stand next to him and busy myself, putting away items in some sort or organized way.  “What else would it be?”

He lifts a developing tray from the counter and hands it to me, but doesn’t respond to my question.

“Where’s Gavin?”

“He’s watching a movie in the living room.”

I take the tray from Brody’s hand and graze my fingers against his, the electric shock is quick, but leaves its impression on me. I meet Brody’s eyes for a split second, then focus back on the cabinets, reaching for another tray to stack on top of the first.

“What is all this stuff?” Brody asks as he holds out bamboo print tongs pinching them together a little too close to my face.

I smile and inch back, but not without taking hold of the tongs first. “This is the film developing stuff.”

“Is that the unofficial name for it, California; ‘Film developing stuff’?”

His sly smile shows itself as he leans against the countertop and stares at me. I shake my head, mostly because he has me flustered, but he doesn’t have to know that.

“Smart ass,” I say under my breath, tactfully covering a swoon.

His smile widens, showing his perfect smile.
How can a smile be so perfect?

Finding myself caught in his smile and his lips, I look down at the empty countertop and take my camera off. He is watching me.

“Are we developing something?”  His direct and initially seemingly provocative question stumps me.

“What?” I half chuckle.

He bows his eyes down to my camera on the counter now and changes his wording, “The camera, are you going to show me how this works?”

“I didn’t think you were really interested.” After saying the words, I realize that mine are just as seemingly provocative and I wish I would have rephrased. “I mean, interested in learning how to develop film.”

He shrugs. “Why not? Gavin is really into it and I have been thinking that it might be something I can help him with too.”

A noble gesture. I shouldn’t have thought of anything different. He is always thinking about Gav. I nod and smile. “Okay.”

I get out the supplies I need. Brody snags my camera from the counter and sits down on the stool next to me. His muscular arm brushes lightly against mine. I try to take my mind off his physical proximity with small talk, chit chat, while I set up the trays and developing solutions.

“So, you played football,” I ask as I look around the small space for water. I notice the basin in the opposite corner. It doesn’t have a faucet but there is about six gallon bottles of water underneath. They thought of everything.

“Yeah,” is all he says in response.

“You miss it,” I ask as I lift one of the jugs and pop the lid off.

“I did, but not so much anymore.”

I stop pouring water into the basin and look at him. He is watching me, arms crossed and sitting on the stool. The way the light shines down on him, I get a little distracted and spill some of the water on the floor. “Shit!”

“You need some help?” Brody asks as he rushes to my aid and takes the gallon of water out of my hands with ease.

“Here, I got it.” He pours the water into the basin and asks, “What is this for?”

“To rinse the photo paper we will be developing.”

“Oh. Well, I have a question for you,” says Brody.

Brilliant. Can’t wait.
“Okay.”

“Do you miss your friends in California? I mean, you lived there a long time and all, right?”

I guess I deserve such a personal question. I sigh before answering just as he puts the empty jug under the basin, then faces me. “I did live there a long time, but I didn’t make friends easily. No one really to miss.” I head back over to the counter where I have the developer and fixer containers.

I hear the pull of his mouth into a smile as he speaks.

“No friends? I find that hard to believe, California.”

“Believe what you want. It’s true.” Okay, that sounded bitchy. I correct myself, “Sorry.”

“How are your parents? Are they like good parents?”

I glance over at him as he comes to stand next to me. “That remains to be seen. For now, yeah they are cool.”

“You didn’t look like you thought they were too cool earlier. Unless, it was me that you were embarrassed of.”

I shake my head, nervously. “You got it wrong. I was trying to save you from my pissed off parents.”

“Why were they pissed?” The click of my camera is sudden and I look up at Brody just as he moves the body of the camera away from his smiling face.

“Did you just take a picture of me?” 

He nods and sits the camera down on the counter before folding his hands together and smiling, proud of himself. “So, why were they pissed?”

“They were trying to reach me all day, but my reception was nothing out there at the pool. I missed their phone calls and texts. That was enough to get them worked up.”

I figure that was a good enough answer. Definitely wasn’t going to tell him the other details about Mrs. O’Keefe and Celine both telling Mom that Lia, Gavin, and him aren’t the best influences for me, or that Nikki asked me what happened between him and I.

“Oh.”

I pour the developer into the tank first.

“What is that thing?” He points at the film enlarger.

“That is how I enlarge the film from the strips. We’ll get to that later.”