I haven’t had to deal with Wired or the other guys since we took the exam. Today is my birthday. I’m eighteen.
For some reason, my sixth birthday is on my mind as I lie in bed waiting for the morning to start. I remember how my mom made waffles with blueberries and whipped cream. She and I smeared whipped cream above our lips, like white moustaches, and laughed. The whole family went to Second Beach after breakfast. As we walked, the sun made our shadows stretch out in front of us. I remember thinking how big my shadow was. I felt so tall. It was like the future was stretched out in front of me. It was like, at six, I could already see my adult self. Now I wish I could go back.
So I could get it right this time.
In the cafeteria, I choke down a breakfast of slimy eggs and white bread. I’m just about to put my tray back when I am engulfed in shadow. This time it isn’t from the sun. It’s from three Diablos.
“We cut you some slack because Wired said you let him copy the test,” said one. “Now it’s time to get Larkyn back on your roster. We’ve waited long enough.” He pulls on my ear and practically rips it from my head.
I catch myself thinking it’s a good thing we don’t have our exam results back. If they knew how badly Wired did, they might have actually decapitated me.
Once back in my room, I use my desk as a drum. I pound out my frustrations on it. But I can’t relax. It’s like the Diablos are in my room with me. It feels like their breath is still on my neck. I turn my focus to Weed. “So how old are you? I thought spiders only lived two years. But you’ve stuck it out as long as me. You’re trapped, too. Do you ever wish you could get out of here? Go somewhere else?”
Weed just sits in her web and doesn’t move.
“Visitor,” pipes Collins. I jump. I didn’t know he was outside my door.
I trudge to the visitors’ area. I’m not expecting anyone.
Dad says, “Hi.”
I sit across from him.
“So I know this is crappy timing. But I’m going away for a few weeks.”
“What! Where?” My voice has an edge to it.
“I’ve met someone. We’re taking a trip together.”
Dad’s voice is different somehow. Like the person he hasn’t told me about might actually mean something to him.
I wonder what would it be like to take a break from this place. To get away from the brutes down the hall. To not be constantly looking over my shoulder. The routine that used to feel comfortable in here has become harder and harder to take. Sharply, I add, “Why now?”
What I mean to say is that my dad’s timing is bad. Now that my life is falling apart, I could use some support.
“Look, I’ll come see you when I get back.” Dad stands. A sigh slouches his body forward.
I’m not ready for the visit to be over. I have loads of questions. I have memories running around in my brain. They need answers. They need to be heard.
I feel a sense of panic. Like Dad may not return from the vacation. Like I may never get to say all the things that have been on my mind. I blurt out, “This is so typical. Just when we start to figure stuff out, you bail. You go away. That’s how it was before Mom left. That’s how it has been since she left.”
Dad hasn’t put his jacket on. He hasn’t stepped away from the table. But his body is half-turned away from me. Around the room, people are talking with the inmates. But there is a hush, like they are listening to Dad and me.
“What do you want me to say?” asks Dad. “I thought maybe you’d be happy for me.”
“Right. Because Martini Mason, Darlene Daiquiri, and Corona Kim made all the difference.” I always called his dates by their beverage of choice, since that’s mostly what they did when they came over to our house. Drink and watch TV with my dad. They weren’t interested in becoming a family.
“I was hurting after your mom left. And sure, I didn’t always make the best decisions. But I was trying to hold down a job and be there for you. What do you want from me?”
“Oh, right. You call what happened being there for me! Mom left and the next day you got up and went to work. You came home with dinner. After a silent meal, you watched TV until bed. The next day you got up and went to work. You came home with dinner. And the routine was set. Nothing changed. Every stinking day, we did the same thing. No talking. No figuring out what happened. Just going through the motions. Sort of like what we still do today!”
“Maybe I didn’t know what to say to you.” He’s lowered his head.
I yell, “Okay! But you know what’s really messed up about this whole thing? Maybe you didn’t notice, but she left me too.”
“I’m not responsible for decisions your mother made.” Dad slumps back down into his chair.
“That leash thing you were talking about last time. I thought it was about what I did. How that messed things up for the two of us. But now I see it could mean what happened with Mom.”
Dad’s silent. He wrings his hands
above the table. His eyes focus on his hands. Guess that’s easier than looking at me.
I’m on a roll, so I go with it. “I used to wonder why Mom left both of us. I used to ask myself at night what I did wrong.”
Dad clears his throat and talks with his head lowered. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Me? I made mistakes. I probably deserved it. But you didn’t deserve . . . I don’t know what your mom was thinking. And I don’t know why she hasn’t come to see you.”
“Does she even know I’m in here?” Part of me hopes not. Maybe finding out what I did is what kept her away. But I know that isn’t completely true. She had already been out of our lives for nearly three years when I took that car.
As we sit, no words between us, I see the pain on Dad’s face.
He wants to say the same hollow words I tried to give to Aisha. But we both know sorry doesn’t cut it. And since that day, I haven’t been able to apologize to him. I didn’t make his life easy, either.
I guess Dad has felt guilt too. Maybe he feels responsible for me losing my mom. But he never told her to skip out on me. And I know he didn’t want to be stuck with me by himself.
After a few minutes of silence, the CO lets us know our time is done. Dad heads off to somewhere I can’t join him.
And on his way out, he forgets to wish me a happy birthday.