When Matt returned to the trailer, Amanda and Jack were sitting in the kitchen area, the little table covered with colored markers and Halloween cards. Jack was actually wearing a T-shirt and sweatpants instead of his bathrobe.
“Hi, Matt,” Amanda said.
“You back already?” Jack said. He leaned over and stage-whispered to Amanda, “Just watch. Mr. Sunny Disposition here’ll ruin all our fun now.”
“Nice to see you, too, Jack.” Matt took off his coat and hung it on the doorknob. He walked across the room and took a soda from the fridge. “Looks like quite the arts and crafts project you two have going there.”
“We’re making cards,” Amanda said. “Turns out Jack has some hidden artistic talent.”
But Matt noticed the bowl of food amid all the Sharpies and glue sticks. “Hey, it looks like you’re branching out. Are you actually eating something besides ice cream and fish sticks?”
Jack looked down at the bowl in front of him, then winked at Amanda. “Well, sure I am. Finally got a decent cook around here.”
Amanda smiled in return. “It was nothing. Just apple slices mixed with cinnamon and sugar, heated up in the microwave.”
“Tasty,” Jack said, waggling his eyebrows.
“And it’s even good for you,” Amanda said. “In the dieting world it’s known as Fat Girl’s Apple Pie. You should give it a try, Matt, you might like it.”
The sense memory washed over Matt. His salivary glands kicked into action, filling up his mouth until he had to swallow.
“Oh, he’s tried it,” Jack said. “They also call it Poor Man’s Apple Pie. Tell her, Matt.”
Matt’s face burned. “What?” He knew, of course.
“His mom,” Jack said, smiling. What was up with him? He was practically bubbly. “Matt’s mom used to make it all the time when he was just a little guy.”
Matt hurried to change the subject. “So what’re you guys doing with all these cards?”
Amanda looked sheepish but handed a Halloween card to Matt. The cartoon ghost on the cover sported a freshly drawn reddish-orange beard.
A powerful wave of nostalgia hit Matt. He remembered being a kid, when every holiday greeting card from Jack had been doctored to give the characters his signature redhead features. Matt still had a shoe box full of those cards in the tiny bedroom closet, the only remaining mementos of his childhood; Santa Clauses with orange beards, Easter Bunnies covered in freckles, leprechauns with flaming hair spilling out from underneath their little green hats. He remembered thinking at the time that he must be the only kid in the world to get cards exactly like these.
Matt had looked forward to getting the cards so much, had read them so many times, that it still seemed weird sometimes when he saw pictures of those characters in their normal state. The traditional Santa with a white beard was not the one he had fallen in love with.
He looked at the card for a long time.
“Matt?” Amanda said. “Is everything okay? We thought that—”
“What’re you just standing there for? Open it up,” Jack said.
Matt blinked a few times, shaking off the memories. The caption on the front of the card read, Happy Halloween. Jack had added three little dots after the letters, so now it read, Happy Halloween…
Matt opened the card. A crowd of red-bearded ghosts circled the words Jack had written on the inside: …from beyond the grave! Jack had drawn a cartoon word bubble coming from one of the ghosts that said, Boo-wahahahaha!
Jack watched Matt’s face, his eyes crinkled up in delight. When Matt closed the card Jack’s slim shoulders shook with laughter. “Well?” he said between chuckles.
“I don’t get it,” Matt said.
“What’s not to get? After I kick the bucket I’m gonna have you mail these out the last week of October. Everybody’ll get a Halloween card from a real ghost!” Jack’s laughter grew louder and longer until it turned into a wheezing attack. When he caught his breath he said, “Isn’t that great?”
Matt tried unsuccessfully to force a smile. Thinking about a holiday without Jack was the least funny thing he could imagine. He ended up just shaking his head. “You are one morbid bastard.” He didn’t know whether he was kidding or not.
Jack rolled his eyes and nudged Amanda with his elbow. “I told you. His sense of humor broke when he was a kid. I ain’t been able to fix it since.”
Matt looked at Amanda and gestured to the marker in her hand. “And you’ve been encouraging him?”
“What can I say? I’m a sucker for a man who wants to color and use glitter.” She and Jack shared a grin.
But her smile slipped a bit when she looked back up at Matt. “They were meant to…We just thought it would be funny.”
Matt’s whole body heated up until he felt smothered by his own clothes. “How many of these did you make, anyway?” He knew his voice was just a little too loud. He picked up a stack of the cards.
“Loads. I’m gonna have you send them to all of my friends.”
“Friends?” Matt stalked to the corner and threw the half-empty soda bottle into the garbage can so hard that the can tipped over. Amanda flinched. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” His voice was much too loud for the cramped trailer now.
“What’s yer problem?” Jack said.
Matt turned. “Which friends, Jack?”
Jack’s smile disappeared. “I got friends.”
“Really?” Matt stretched out his arms and took an exaggerated look around the little trailer. “Where are they?”
“I got friends, you little punk.”
“Oh, right, it’s just that they never—”
“I got lots of friends, in lots of towns.” Jack was forced to stop talking by a series of harsh, dry coughs. Matt crossed his arms, fuming. He faced Amanda, eyebrows raised, and looked a question at her: How could you be in on this? Amanda avoided his gaze and attended to Jack, patting him during his hacking jag.
“I didn’t spend my whole life in this goddamn trailer, you know,” Jack said after the coughing subsided.
“Oh, I know, I know, I’m just wondering how I’m going to find all these good buddies of yours to send them your little cards.” Matt hadn’t realized it until this moment but his nerves were still on edge from the border crossing. “It’s not like any of them ever stop by to visit, you notice that?”
“My friends don’t—”
“You know what? Go on and invite some of these friends over sometime. Or—I know—maybe they could swing by around midnight and haul your ass to the bathroom and I could get some fucking sleep.”
Jack growled and pushed himself out of his chair. Matt had seen that look in his eyes before. It meant someone was going to get his ass kicked.
But Jack slipped and fell back against the cheap vinyl, coughing again. His glare intensified. He grabbed the nearest thing at hand—a glue stick—and hurled it at Matt. It bounced pitifully off his chest.
Amanda scooched her chair back. “Hey, guys. It’s okay. Take it easy,” she said, looking warily between the two. They ignored her.
Jack crossed his arms over his chest and glared back at Matt. “Jesus, but yer a killjoy. I’ll look up the addresses myself. Shit, if you had any friends you’d understand why I was doing this in the first place.”
“Oh, if I had any friends?” Matt clenched his teeth together but the words came spilling out anyway. “Yeah, it’s real easy to make friends when I spend all of my time taking care of you.”
Jack flinched as if he’d been slapped. Matt hated himself, hated that he couldn’t take the words back. Hated that he didn’t know if he even wanted to.
“Matt?” Amanda said. “I don’t think you should—”
“Oh, so now you don’t want me here, huh? That it?” Jack’s throat was going dry, his voice raspy. “That’s not what you were sayin’ when yer mom left. You were just a scared-shitless kid.”
Matt glanced at Amanda, the embarrassment making his anger more intense. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m older now, Jack. I can take care of myself.”
“Well, so can I. I don’t need you.” Jack rose out of his chair, grunting with the effort. “I never needed you.” He tried to storm away, but his body failed him and he ended up shambling off-kilter down the hall to the bedroom.
Matt was caught between wanting to help him down the hall and the desire to shove him the rest of the way with both hands. When the door closed, it was a pale imitation of a slam, but Matt flinched anyway.
Amanda slowly stood up. “I better get going,” she said. Her voice was tight, on the verge of breaking.
“Here,” Matt said. He reached into his pocket and took out a wad of cash. He peeled off three fifty-dollar bills. “This is for gas.”
Amanda looked at the money. “Matt, that’s way too much. I can’t take that.”
“It’s not just for gas, then, okay? It’s for babysitting. For putting up with his shit for a few hours.” Matt jerked his head in the direction of Jack’s bedroom. “No one should have to do that.”
“I came because I wanted to.”
“You wanted to be here?” Matt looked around at the walls of the little trailer. He knew he should stop; he wanted to stop. But he didn’t know how. “Then you’re as fucked up as he is.”
Amanda looked at the floor instead of at Matt. But she still gathered herself and spoke. “I came here because I wanted to, Matt. I like being with Jack, and I wanted to help you.” Her hands were shaking, and she clasped them together.
Matt reached into his pocket, pulled out another fifty-dollar bill and added it to the three in his hand. He threw the bills at her but they fluttered to the floor. He kicked them across the linoleum at her.
Amanda lifted her head and looked down the hall at Jack’s bedroom, and then straight into Matt’s eyes. She even took a step toward him. “Why are you acting like this?” Her voice might have been a little shaky, but it was loud.
“I’m not acting like anything. I am like this.” Matt retreated the few steps to the front door. “You two can make as many fucking farewell cards as you want.” The whole trailer shook when he slammed the door behind him.