Igniting the Wild Sparks (35 page)

My mouth matching Rod’s, I recover to say, “No. Your brother isn’t gay.”

She smirks. “Why? Did he show you his tiny dancer?”

Rod throws his head back and shouts to the ceiling, “Holy Mother of God, Eden!”

Anxiously twisting my ponytail, I peer up at him. “Um, no.”

Eden folds her hands together and says, “He talks about you constantly and it’s so sad. I don’t think he’s got any other damn friends.”

“I like hanging out with him. He makes me laugh.”

She laughs through a wheeze. “We all laugh at Gregory. He’s a walk
ing caricature.”

Rod throws his hands up. “Can you be normal for five minutes?”

“Can you be invisible for 10? When the Gregster was down here for Easter, he had me watch some sports show. Is it true that hot piece of ass is your boyfriend or is he my brother’s?”

I giggle. “True. He’s my boyfriend.”

“Damn. Did you bring him with you?”

Still smiling, I answer, “No.”

She sticks her maroon-colored, bottom lip out. “Too bad.”

Rod crosses his arms. “Eden, quit perv
ing on her man from afar. Hadley is here to see you.”

Eden says, “I’m not gonna be in here long. I wanna check out Aunt Amy’s bar.”

“I don’t think you’ll be allowed to do that.”

Her eyes harden.
“Allowed?
Who’s not gonna
allow
me, Gregory?”

“Mom. Dad. The doctors. I doubt that will be a postscript on your discharge papers: Patient is advised to visit her oddball aunt’s dive bar in the shithole part of town. Line dancing is required.”

She scowls and points her black nail-polished finger at him. “I’m going, so you can fuck off.” I suppose we can trade nail polish favorites.

Rod puts his hands on his hips
and snaps, “Of course you will because you do whatever the fuck you want anyway. You’re supposed to be getting better, but no. All you wanna do is argue with the nurses, the doctors, our parents, our sisters and me. You act like you
want
to die!”

She portentously narrows her eyes at Rod. “I’m
gonna
die. There’s no Get Out of Hell Free card to play. There’s no way out of it. So accept it and get over it.”

I can practically feel the tension in Rod
mounting as he stares coldly at Eden.
“Get over it?
How in the fuck can you say that?”

Eden angles her head at him as a frown encompasses her face. “I just did. Quit cry
ing ‘bout me like a snot-nosed, little girl who lost the head to her favorite doll, you jackass. Grow a pair and shut the fuck up.”

Rod’s hands to his mouth and I hear his stuttered breath behind them. Shaking his head, he takes a step back and drops his hands. “Shit. I need some air.” He agitatedly licks his lips and fleetingly glances at the door.

“Hadley can stay here. I’m sure you don’t need her to hold your limp dick while you take a piss.”

Rod mutters,
“Goddamn it.” He turns and storms out of the room, leaving me stunned in his wake. Not having any idea what to say to Eden after that, I warily look at her, in which she rolls her eyes. Does she want me to leave now?

Shifting to sit up more, Eden begrudgingly wheezes, “Look, I’m glad I got to meet you. Apparently, my brother can’t handle this whole situation, even though I’ve had this death sentence my whole fuck
ing life. This outcome was totally predictable. He needs to get a grip.”

“He loves you so much. He doesn’t want you to give up.”

Her eyes drift from me to the window. “But I have to at some damn point. I’m not strong anymore. I’m so tired of fighting for a shitty life and against a disease I won’t beat. I’m permanently attached to this fucking tube, inhalers and pills. This shit sucks worse than a two-dollar whore kneeling on tacks.”
That sounds like a Rodism
. I glance out the window, reminding myself not to smile at her analogy or she may take it wrong.

Eden sniffs and I look to see her glassy eyes as she says, “Why would I keep hold
ing on just so he doesn’t have to face reality? We have five sisters. He’ll have plenty of bitches in his life to still tell him how much of a pussy he is.”

“You’re his best friend, Eden. He doesn’t want to lose you.”

She swallows and blinks several times as she stares at her frail-looking hands. “Greg and I used to be best friends. Well, some fucking friend I’ve been, especially this past year. I’m a nuisance to everyone around me. The annoying doctor visits nobody wants to go to, the air hose that follows me everywhere and people trip over constantly, the pill bottles I leave behind like bread crumbs, the never-ending hospitalizations, the inhalers I live on, and the exhaustion that plagues my family from taking care of my ass are frustrating for everyone involved. I’m done with it. I don’t wanna be a fucking burden anymore.”

I edge closer to the bed and as I do, I notice the Hello Kitty necklace next to her oxygen tube on her chest. I smile, remembering Rod’s kite tribute. “You’re not. Greg is always telling me such great stories about you. He idolizes you. You’re his super heroine.”

She downwardly nods. “Right. I’m Fibro Bitch: Casting mucus over the land wherever she spews.”

“Can’t you have a lung transplant? I’ve heard of them helping people.”

She looks up at me. “It only scores you a few years. I was put on the lung transplant list when I was a teenager, but no match came up back then. When I turned 25, I removed my name and decided to not take away a chance for me to live an extra three to five years over a kid’s chance to.”

I dejectedly mumble, “There has to be other treatments.”

“There are, but nothing will ever cure me or extend my life for too long. I’ll always have CF, no matter if I even got new lungs. It’s invaded my life and everyone else’s around me. It’s in my body and in my genes. I’m a prisoner in my own fucking body.”

I suck on my bottom lip to force the tears away before saying, “I’m so sorry, Eden. If there were anything I could do, I would.”

She sharply coughs and clears her throat. “You can do a couple things. One, don’t feel damn sorry for me. Everyone has their lots in life and this is mine. Some kids have cancer and won’t see their fourteenth birthdays. I’ve made it this far, so I’m luckier than them. Second, take care of my brother. I know he’s having a hard time with this, but I won’t be able to rest if he’s moping around. Look after him. I know how he feels ‘bout you. You’re special. He needs you. Make sure he’s happy with his life.”

Absorbing everything she told me, I woodenly nod. “I will. I promise you.”

She scowls. “And don’t tell him I told you to or I will fucking haunt your ass.” Her lips reluctantly yank into a small smirk.

I grin and shake my head. “I won’t.”

We talk for a few minutes until the curtain suddenly jerks open. Rod determinedly glares at Eden. “Okay, bitch. Listen here.”

“Gregory!” Lizette screeches from behind him.

“I don’t care, Mom. She needs to hear this shit.” He stands at the end of Eden’s bed and points at her. “
You
need to shut your damn mouth. Forget ‘bout your lungs. You need a fucking spine transplant because you sure don’t have one.”

I grab onto his sleeve and plead, “Don’t do this.”

Ignoring me, he yells, “You got to beat this!”

Eden replies with unexpectedly quiet resignation, “Greg, I can’t. You know that.”

“Yes, you can!”
he doggedly snarls. “You’re giving up! Fucking try
harder
!” He gasps and glowers at the floor, beaten. I lean my head against his arm and his mom hugs him from the other side. Eden glances away from us and out the window. Looking at her profile, I see her eyes heavily glistening as she bites her lip to hold off the tears.

Shrugging off his mother and me, Rod moves over to the side of the bed. “Please don’t leave, E. I need my big sister. I’m begg
ing you. Don’t go.”

Her eyes fall to the floor. “Greg, I’ll hold on for as long as I can, but I’m so tired. Though, I might have to stick around a little longer
because making fun of you brings me a special joy, dickweed.”

Rod swallows several times before he says, “I love you, E.”

Eden looks up at him and her tears spill over. “Yeah, I love you, too, Gregory.” She wheezes and swipes at the black tears trickling down her cheeks. “Okay. Now I want everyone to get the fuck out of here. You’re screwing up my face. I mean it. I’ll have the nurse call security. I wanna be alone.”

Rod shakes his head and holds onto her arm. “No. You’re not gonna die alone.”

She rolls her eyes and wrenches her arm from his hold. “I’m not dying today, asshole. I don’t wanna sobfest in here. So get the hell out!”

“Eden,” Lizette tries reasoning with her daughter.

Eden yells, “Get out! You can visit tomorrow! Go!”

Rod asks, “You promise?”

She coughs and nods. “Gregory, yes. Now please. Just go. Take Hadley out and get hammered. You can tell me all about it tomorrow. And make it a good story. Not one of your lame attempts, either, for fuck’s sake. We all know how damn mediocre your life is.”

I step up to him and tug on his sleeve. “Come on, Greg.” Pulling on his arm, he reluctantly follows me and I say, “Let’s go take a walk.”

Rod’s mom says, “Your dad said Amy is cleaning the bar. She probably could use some help if you want something to do.”

“Take pictures of it. I wanna see,” Eden says.

“You just wanna see pictures of me in rubber gloves and a damn apron.”

Eden sneers, “Yeah. I bet that’ll be the first time you put rubber on any part of your sorry-ass body.” Rod snorts and Eden says, “Make sure you wear underwear. I don’t want your nuts on my mind while star
ing at these walls.”

He smiles. “Then I’ll definitely make sure you get a picture of my ass.”

I jerk him forward again. When we get out into the hall, Rod walks to a wall and leaning against it, yanks me to him as he sinks to the floor, sobbing.

How is he going to get through this without losing his own zest for life? I can’t let the Rod I know disappear completely.

CHAPTER 16

“What the fuck?” Rod shoves the door open further and peers around us at the dismal display. “She actually thinks this is gonna be a hot spot? More like a hot
damn
. Shit.”

I walk in behind him and stop, frozen in my tracks, overwhelmed with the sense of déjà vu. The bar is a dank, musty, and dreary place screaming for a wrecking ball’s mercy. Dust and grime cover everything from top to bottom. The seating upholstery looks like it used to be red, but is now shellacked with a smoky, grayish film. Even though I’m pretty sure North Carolina banned smoking in bars a while ago, the smell of cigarettes lingers in the air from being closed up for so long, along with the yellowed windows glazing the sunlight, remain. I don’t think this place ever became acquainted with a bottle of Windex.

I tug on Rod’s arm and he inclines his head so I can whisper, “Holy shit. I dreamt about this place.”

“You mean, like this is your
dream
bar? I think they should’ve done a CunT scan on your head.”

“No. I mean, I had a nightmare about this very bar. You were in it.”

“Gee, thanks, Hadders. I’m forever in chicks’ nightmares.”

I cling to Rod’s arm and apprehensively look around. Is Finn going to appear with those two whores?

As he peers around with me, I say, “It’s not exactly the same, but it’s damn close. Are there pool tables in there?” Walking further into the main room, Rod angles his head and then nods to the smaller room off to the side. “If that’s what you wanna call those things, then yep.”

A muffled voice yells from somewhere in the kitchen behind the bar, “Greg, is that you?”

Rod shouts back, “Can I pretend it’s not, Aunt Amy?” I smack his arm and he snorts, which makes him choke on a cough from inhaling the acrid air. There’s no way Eden can be here until this hell hole is scrubbed and then scrubbed again.

Amy orders, “Don’t you go anywhere!”

Rod answers, “Not even if you tied me to a broken toilet and beat me with wet newspapers!” I wrinkle my nose and forehead, partly for his comment and partly for the smelly air.

“What?” Amy yells.

“What the hell does that mean?” I whisper.

“The fuck if I know. I’m just trying to get outta here.”

Rod walks us closer to the bar and instead of repeating his earlier answer, he loudly asks, “Where’s Dad?”

“He left.” A brunette teen with freckles and an unruly scowl walks comes from the hallway where the bathrooms must be. “It’s Aunt Amy, Colt, Tabby and me.”

Rod sighs. “Fuckin’ fabulous.”

Rod’s sister smirks at his agitation. “What? Colt?”

“Yep.” Rod explains to me, “Colt is Aunt Amy’s asshole son. He’s a proctologist’s wet dream.” Rod’s gaze swiftly roams up and down my body. “I’m gonna warn you now, he
will
hit on you.”

I cross my arms, as usual when I’m being scrutinized. “He will? Why?”

Rod narrows his eyes and frowns. “Shut up. And the fact that your boyfriend is three hours away will make Colt even more relentless and sordid.” He jerks his thumb to his sister. “By the way, this is my sister, Josie. Jo, this is Hadley, a friend of mine.”

She grins and waves her finger at us. “Are you two dating?”

Shaking his head, Rod impatiently sighs and deliberately says, “Nooo. I
just
said we are
friends.
Why don’t you orbit elsewhere, Venus.”

“Screw you. I’m not
that
dense, scumbag.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“Like
that’s
hard to do.” Does everyone have the smart mouth gene in his family?

“Don’t you have a small village to burn?”

She glances at me and then presses Rod, “Why aren’t you dating her? Does she hate your lame jokes, too?”

Rod tersely inhales and snaps, “She has a boyfriend. Can you go scrub a shitter or something?”

She rolls her brown eyes. “I already did. Your turn. There are sponges and gloves on the bar in that box with the other cleanin’ shit.”

The swinging door behind the bar opens and a woman blows in from the kitchen, wearing a tattered, white T-shirt, and old blue jeans. Covering her is an apron that says, “No bitchin’ in my kitchen.” Her short, white hair sets off her blue eyes even under the dim lighting. She proudly announces to Rod, “I also have beer in a cooler!” She turns to me and asks, “Who do we have here?”

Rod answers, “Hadley. She’s my friend from work.”

Smiling jovially with red cheeks, she says, “Nice to meet you, Hadley. I’m Amy. So, what do you young people think?” She waves her hand around like Vanna White and I’m compelled to give the dump another glance.

With hands on his hips, Rod says, “Undecided. Frankly, Aunt Amy, I’m not sure what you can do with this place. What do you plan on doing with it?”

“Opening a bar. Duh. Who’s Venus now?” Josie scoffs.

Rod shoots Josie a side glare. “Put a sock in it, whorebang.” He looks back to his aunt. “I meant, is there a theme to set you off from the rest?”

She clasps her hands together and bounces. “I’d like to have dancin’ in here! That would be a hoot!”

“Um, yeah. A
hoot
wasn’t the first word that came to mind.” Rod points to the right and we all look. “Anyway, you could maybe turn that room into a dance floor with a good stereo system. Take out the pool tables.”

She hops in place, clapping excitedly. “I love it! Tell me more, Greg!”

His eyes widen, in fear, I think. “Well, brighten up the place. Make it colorful. Add lights to the outside. And for the love of almighty God on His throne, get rid of the road kill smell.” Amy eagerly nods and he adds, “Oh, and change the name to something fun and cool.”

She buoyantly asks, “Do you have any suggestions?”

I blurt out, “Oh, I wouldn’t ask him for those.”

Rod nudges me and snickers. “You love it, Hadders.” He’s right.

Amy says, “There is an old jukebox over there. Most of the songs are from the 80’s and 90’s, but I think there are some current ones.”

He mutters, “I’ll need more than music to forget about this place.”

“Greg!” A younger, brown-haired girl hurdles out of the kitchen.

“Hey, Tabs.” She runs to Rod, slamming into him. “Criminy!” he gasps. “You ‘bout broke my liver!”

She inquisitively nods to me. “Is that your girlfriend?”

“No. That’s Hadley. She’s a friend of mine.”

She smiles at me and shrugs. “Oh, okay. I have the kitchen. Where do you wanna start?”

“Richmond.”

I grab Rod’s hand and pull him to the bar. “We’re here to clean.” I turn to him and whisper, “Your aunt has invested a lot of time and money into this.”

Rod grumbles, “A tetanus shot would’ve been a good investment.”

“Stop.” Tugging the box so I can peer into it, I take a pair of gloves, a sponge, and some cleaner. “Have the booths and tables been scrubbed?”

Walking to us, Josie shakes her head. “I’m not touchin’ ‘em. I’m sure they are swimming with sperm.”

Rod’s face crumples. “You
would
know about the whereabouts of sperm.”

She scrunches her face in return. “Get bent, Greg.” She huffily spins around and goes behind the bar, angrily pushing the swinging door open. Rod giggles and goes over to the questionable-looking jukebox.

Grabbing a few things out of the box, I venture behind the bar. There, I find a bucket, filling it with water and then carrying it to a corner booth to get started. Wringing out my rag, Salt-N-Pepa’s “Shoop” begins to thump against the walls, and I shake my head and laugh as I wipe down a neglected, red bench seat. Emerging from the kitchen, Josie twirls around, swinging and swaying with a mop as her dance partner.

Glancing at the jukebox, I see Rod bobbing his head above it as he peruses the most-likely scant selection. At least he seems to have calmed down since his collapse at the hospital. I was helpless. I had no idea what to do, except to sit there, hugging him on the floor until he quieted. After that, he didn’t talk about it, so I haven’t brought it up, either.

Josie mops the wooden floors, reviving some sort of life to them. They’ll need refinished to gleam once more, if they ever did, but they’re at least cleaner than they were. The smell of Lestoil fills the air, lifting our spirits as we cleanse this soiled place of its past sins.

I get into a rhythm of scrubbing and listening to the tunes, singing softly along to some, and losing myself in my thoughts of Sparks. I wonder if he’s thinking of me and if he is, do I really want to know what he’s thinking?

“Why, hello there,” a slick voice says from behind me. I jump and stand bolt-straight. Spinning around, I grab onto the table to steady myself as I examine the man in front of me. Shorter than Rod, he has blonde, wavy hair that probably would be curlier if it were shorter. His beard is scruffy, and his blue eyes are beady and wandering. The blue jean jacket he’s wearing with the sleeves haphazardly cut off doesn’t help validate him, nor does the brown T-shirt with a silhouette of a naked woman across it. Even his cologne is strong and unappealing.

“What’s your name, baby doll?”
Is he for real?
With the small, gold hoop in each ear, he easily could pass for either a cartoon pirate or a castoff extra from a high school production of
Easy Rider
.

“Baby doll?”
I repeat scornfully.

His eyes fall to my chest. “Honey or cutie? Whatever you want.”

“Her name is Hadley. Back off, Colt.” Rod appears and swiftly moves to stand in front of me.

Still trying to catch a glimpse of me from behind Rod, he licks his lips, and nonchalantly says to Rod, “I’m just messin’ with you. Don’t blow out your diaper, Greggie.”

Rod reaches back and grabs my wrist. As he tows me away from the table and his cousin, he glares at Colt over his shoulder. Turning to me, he says, “Sorry. I told you he’s a mammoth asshole.”

“Thanks for rescuing me, good sir.” I giggle and squeeze his arm.

He smiles. “Gladly. It’s no big deal.” When we stop at the jukebox, I get an up-close view of how dirty it is. Cobwebs would make it look more presentable. I make a mental note to introduce it to some soap and water, or sandblasting.

Rod yells to anyone who’s listening, “Any requests?”

“Jessie’s Girl!” Colt trills. “It’s a dedication to you, buddy!” Colt laughs loudly and beats his hands on a table, kicking up puffs of dust, in triumph at his stupid joke.

“Fuckin’ dick,” Rod grouses to the cloudy, jukebox glass.

“Ignore him.” I prod his arm and he unwillingly smiles.

After scanning the songs, a huge smile floods his face and he shouts, “Josie, I have a special one for you!”

“What?” she asks, squeezing dirty water out of her mop.

Jermaine Stewart’s “We Don’t Have to Take Our Clothes Off” starts. I loudly snort, and turn away so she doesn’t see me laugh. He imparts, “Let this be your anthem when you go off to college!”

“Assclown!” She petulantly sulks, which only makes Rod laugh harder. He finds my hand, pulling me to the semi-sparkling floor of the former billiards room.

Looking around the bare room, I ask, “Where’d the pool tables go?”

“Colt and I moved them. They were just cheap pieces of shit.”

I continue to gawk at the emptiness. “I must’ve really been into cleaning tables.”

Rod laughs. “You were.” He raises his arm above my head and I twirl. As I dance around him, he says, “We don’t have to dance. Your stomach hurts.” The inflection in his voice reveals his chronic guilt for hitting me.

“I’m okay doing some things.” I come back around and put my arms around his neck as we get into the groove, his hands moving to my hips as I twist. My stomach begins to object, but I soldier on. I need to have a little fun after my fight with Finn; however, just thinking about him makes my heart ache, which is ineffectual for being pain free. I wish I hadn’t messed up his plans, but I wish even more that he hadn’t lied to me.

Letting go of Rod’s neck, I grab his hand and whirl away from him. He swiftly spools me back and as much as I want to, I can’t get into dancing. I’m much too distracted thinking about my Sparks.

“You okay?” Rod asks, stooping to look at me.

I sorrowfully shake my head. “Not really.”

“Your stomach?”

Giving him a knowing look, he nods. He then says, “You said he wasn’t mad after you talked.”

My lips pull to the corner, remembering what Finn told me. “Well, he wasn’t happy
.” I omit how much Finn was upset because I don’t want to Rod to feel even more guilt-ridden. “He had made plans for us to stay at a cabin in Kentucky starting Wednesday, and we were going to stay until Sunday. I didn’t know.”

Rod’s face falls. “Aw, Hadders. I’m sorry.”

It’s not your fault. I wanted to be here.”

“I can see why he’s pissed off.”