Dismantling Evan (28 page)

A smile curls up as he continues to look at the enlarger and says, “Gavin would love this. Anything mechanical, technological he is crazy over. Well, that and Hamlet and Lord of the Rings.”

“Why is that?” I ask, absently, as I pour the fixer into the next tank.

There is a long pause, and I figure that I had stepped over some invisible boundary of “not the question to ask.”

While I put the fixer and the developer under the countertop, Brody breaks the silence. “Dad, when he was home, you know not on tour or whatever, he would read a lot. Gavin and him, that was their thing, while throwing the football was Dad’s and mine.”

Brody fiddles with his fingers as he continues, “Tolkien and Shakespeare were Dad’s favorites and he would read them aloud to Gavin when he was smaller.”

In the soft light of the room, I notice Brody’s eyes redden a little around the edges just before he blinks and clears his throat. “Anyway, that is why he has a thing for them I guess.”

I look away from him and take hold of my camera, trying not to make him any more uncomfortable than he already is. I flip up the film rewind handle and begin to twist. “Did your dad give him the hat too?” I ask.

Brody nods then chuckles. “Yeah, that damn cap he is always wearing. It was Dad’s when he first joined the army.”

The film rewind hinges and clicks. “What did your dad give you? I mean is there something sentimental from him?”

I notice Brody swallow hard and his face become morose almost. “Yeah, he gave me stuff.”

I sit my camera down wanting to know what he gave him. “Like what?”

Brody stares me in the eyes and says, “The thing that stands out most nowadays is responsibility for my family.”

I’m speechless as the image of him taking on the weight of his family in his father’s absence takes hold in my mind.

Like he has said something sinful, he shakes his head and pinches his eyes closed. “I’m sorry, that sounded terrible.”

I breathe out and shake the image, realizing that Brody has lived this and I am only picturing it. He deserves to feel what he does. He has to be a big brother and father to Gavin and he has had to earn money to help his family. All this and the whole mystery behind his father’s disappearance. I mean how can anyone just disappear from their post without a trace? What do I know? I’m just a teenage girl that has been wrapped up in her own life and her own flaws without a responsibility for anyone else.

“No, it’s all right. That is how you feel and you deserve to feel, Brody. There is nothing wrong with that.” I surprise myself at how strong and determined my voice sounds to get my point across. “Nikki told me about the seizures and how they can get bad. Today, he could have had one because of me touching him.”

“Evan...”

Ignoring him calling my name, I continue, “I know you don’t think I am at fault and I get that, but it still could have triggered one of his seizures and I am at the very least sorry for that.”

Brody nods, then looks at me in a way I haven’t seen before; a look of tenderness, passion even - love. The silence around us isn’t empty, but filled with a chill that gives me goosebumps on top of goosebumps.

Typical of me, my next thoughts just spill out of my mouth without me thinking them through. “Um, we need to turn off the lights.”

Brody looks at me appraisingly and I immediate realize my choice of words have taken this situation in an awkward direction. So this is what it feels like to want to melt into the floorboards beneath me and disappear.

I try to save face, “What I mean is we have to turn them off because we need to develop the film.”

“Oh, okay,” he says as he rises off the stool and walks behind me. When he turns off the light, I sense the warmth of him behind me.

“You need to flip on the safe light?”

“The what?” he asks almost laughing.

“Safe light. It is the switch to the right of the other,” I say.

He turns on the safe light above me first, then turns off the other. “Is it because it is safe for exposing the film or something?” he asks as he walks behind me and stands next to me, shoulder brushing shoulder.

I swallow hard, nod, and begin to remove the film from the rewind compartment. I have to stop thinking of Brody’s arm touching mine.
Go through the steps, Evan! Distract yourself!

I pull the film and put it into the developing tray.

Brody speaks again, “The seizures can get bad, Evan. I know it might be scary for you. I’ve gotten used to them...” He pauses and runs his hand along the counter top nervously then says, “...I guess ‘used to them’ isn’t exactly right; they scare the shit out of me every time they happen.”

I stop shaking the developer tray and sit it on the counter. “Why did you stop the medication?”

Brody shakes his head. “Evan, over the past seven years of Gavin’s life, he has been on an unimaginable amount of medication. The seizure medication is one that we depended on insurance to cover because it is so fucking expensive. When the insurance froze, we had to cut him to the bare minimum just to keep him functioning where he is right now.”

I think of all Gavin’s oddities, quirks, escalations, stiffness, ticks, and can’t imagine him functioning with more than what I have seen.

“You haven’t seen Gavin at his worst, Evan. I have... and it is heartbreaking, gut wrenching. The simplest thing can set him off. Other times, it takes more to push him. It changes day to day, minute to minute, and I am just trying to keep up. He doesn’t respond to ma like he does me.”

He pauses, looks out the small window, then back at me. His hazel eyed gaze has my whole attention. “I would love to have him back on all the medications. I would love to have help for him. I’d love to be able to not have to worry if Gavin is going to be safe at school, on the streets, in life. Right now, it isn’t possible.”

He looks down, “There is one thing... A light at the end of this tunnel. Mom’s job has made her full time, so she’ll qualify for insurance soon, hopefully.”

“Really? That means he will get help!”

Brody nods then raises his voice in anger, “Yes, but with Dad’s... disappearance, we’re stuck in a holding pattern with the new insurance until our old insurance releases us.”

“Why?” I don’t understand how one insurance can be holding up another.

Brody leans his head back, closes his eyes and tightens his jaw as he groans, “Paper work, a whole bunch of stuff. It’s complicated, Evan. Can we just talk about something else? Please?”

“Yeah, sure.” I twist off the lid of the developer tray and scramble for a new topic. “Where did the name Brody come from? Is it a nickname?”

Yeah, it was an odd question, but I would take anything do get Brody out of his frustrated mood.

He scoffs, “Yeah, it’s a nickname.”

“For what?” I place the film into the basin of water with the tongs to rinse it, then transfer it to the tray with the fixer in it. I’m waiting for an answer from him, but I’m not getting one so I look across, the red bulb sets his face aglow.

“Broderick. Brody is short for Broderick.”

I think of his full name as I say it out loud, “Broderick Ferguson.”

“Don’t laugh!” he warns, lightly.

“I wasn’t going to. To be honest, just saying it... well, it suits you.”

“Really? How is that? Sounds nerdy to me.”

I could watch his smile forever and it still wouldn’t be long enough.

“It is a strong name and you are the strongest person I know, so it suits you.”

“That remains to be seen, Evangeline,” he says raising one eye brow.

I try to control my breathing as I shake the film in the fixer. I count each shake to distract my mind from the thoughts. My mind wanders and I see only his eyes, his jaw, his lips, his hair...
Count Evan! 1,2,3,4...

“Where did Evangeline come from anyway?” Brody’s voice is soft, sultry even, but I overlook it and focus on the topic. The memory of Dad naming me melts away all the swooning, thank God.

“Longfellow wrote a poem, “Evangeline”. Dad was a huge fan of his work and the name stuck with him. When I was born, he said that he knew I would be an Evangeline.”

“Well what does it mean?” Brody asks

“The name?”

“What does it symbolize in the poem?”

To be honest, the last thing on my mind was an analysis of a poem. “I haven’t read it in a while.”

“Oh,” he says as he looks down at my hands, still shaking the fixer tray. “Is that ready yet? You’ve been shaking it a while.”

I stop shaking it and set it down. “Yeah, sorry.”

I take off the lid, remove the film with the tongs, and place it in the basin of water again.

“Okay.” I say

“Now what?”

“Well, I have to pour the developer and fixer back in the canisters and throw out the water. After that I can enlarge the photos.”

Realizing the time has passed and it is probably getting really late I say, “We can do that tomorrow though. Gavin might like to see that.”

“Yeah, he would love that. Do you need my help cleaning up?”

“No, I’ve got this. Can you turn on the light?” I ask as I reach down to pick up the developer and fixer containers to put the left over liquid back for recycling.

“Yeah, sure,” says Brody, but I don’t notice him move to turn it on.

When I come back up, set the containers on the counter, I look at him. He is staring at me with a red-tinted smirk on his face, cast from the darkroom safe light.

“What?” I ask, smiling a little... his smile just does that to me.

“That night you saw Gavin out front with me. You were looking out your bedroom window weren’t you?”

I nod, lost for words.

“I was in my bedroom before that. You said you heard her my mom call me to help with Gav.”

Again, I just nod...still speechless. I know where this is going.

“Were you watching me, California?” he asks in a thicker than normal Texas draw. He unfolds his arms and moves in toward me.

I swear I can hear the sound of me swallowing like those silly Tom and Jerry cartoons. “Uh, huh.”

No! Stupid, stupid! You just told him you were watching him like some kind of stalker!

He smiles and moves his eyes from mine to my lips. If I could read his mind, I would think he was considering kissing me, but he is Brody Ferguson...
why would he want to kiss me?

He comes in closer, keeping his eyes on my mouth. “Don’t be embarrassed. I’m not. I was hoping that was your bedroom window, Evangeline Phillips.”

The warm pad of his thumb runs alongside of my face and I close my eyes just as his soft lips rest on mine. After too short a kiss, he moves away from me and flips on the light. “See you tomorrow, California.”

The click of the door shutting behind him pulls me from the trance of being kissed by Brody Ferguson.

November, 2013

“The world is indeed full of peril, and in it there are many dark places; but still there is much that is fair, and though in all lands love is now mingled with grief, it grows perhaps the greater.”

J. R. R.Tolkien, The Two Towers

It’s like Tolkien was talking about me when he wrote this. The peril? Things all around me; chaos of students pumping into me in the halls, getting close to me, talking loud, calling my name. Chad and Spencer flipping the hat my dad gave me off my head. Celine talking to me in her high pitched voice and me telling her to stop, but her just laughing and continuing to blabber. Spencer picking on Evan when she defends me in class. I wish she didn’t then he would leave her alone. She says she doesn’t care about that, but if I were her it would hurt, just like it does to me. She says not to tell Brody and I don’t. I don’t want him to get kicked out of school again. That would be bad. Still, I hate they are doing this to Evan because of me; all because of me.

The dark places? I have a trick that Evan doesn’t have. She can’t disappear, hide, like I can. I don’t know how I do it, it just happens. Maybe it is like some strange super power, my defense mechanism. The thing is, when I come out of the dark place, I don’t know what has happened since I entered it. Brody says it’s me getting stuck. I have heard Mom say it is a seizure, which scares me more than Brody saying it is getting stuck.

It is another place, I’m sure of it. A place where I can’t get hurt. I won’t get hurt.

What is fair? Brody, sweet Lia, Asher, Nikki, and Evan are.

Evan is the fairest, but she doesn’t know it. It’s all right... I know it. I can see Brody knows it too when he looks at her and she looks at him. She is his Ophelia, like Lia is mine.

Photography and the newspaper, they are fair for me anyway.

But, that is all that I can see as fair.

Mom crying at night, that isn’t fair.

Dad being lost in Afghanistan, that isn’t fair.

Brody...my dear brother Brody being all he can for everybody...that isn’t fair.

The feeling of drowning in my own head, that isn’t fair.