One is Rust the Other is Gold

5: The Storm

Mom rarely answers her phone, especially when she sees the call or text is from me. I've long since accepted I'm little more than a burden she was freed from the moment I was enrolled in my private school. All my problems and needs are inconsequential to her. When I was a child, as long as she could get away with ignoring my existence without the cops showing up or her social status decreasing, she was okay with that. Since I've been gone, she and my step-father have been free to live their "exciting" lives going on party cruises and taking trips around the world. I guess I'm happy for them. At least someone's having a good time.

Mom noticed early on that my step-father was rather annoyed at my presence but she was willing to do anything to make him happy and turning a blind eye was easy for her. However, I doubt she knew the extent of his disdain for me. I don't think she wanted to know. It would complicate her life too much. He'd beat me for coughing when I was sick because I was "trying to annoy him." He'd beat me for not coming back with his beer quickly enough when he sent me out on errands when he was too lazy to do it himself. He was most dangerous when he was drunk. He'd tell me after he beat me a little too hard and was scared I'd need to go to the hospital that it wasn't his fault, it was the alcohol's fault. He was just out of control and didn't know what he was doing. But even while "out of control" and "not knowing what he was doing", he was careful to never hit me in the face. He was very careful to never leave marks on me that clothes wouldn't cover. He'd make sure to only beat me when we were alone and mom was out. He was methodical and thoughtful about it. Never trust a man's words. Only his actions.

So, when mom didn't pick up the phone or reply to my text, it wasn't unusual. I cringed, though, knowing I'd have to stop by to talk in person to get an answer from her. It was a Saturday morning, so the two were most likely lounging at home making plans to go out tonight. I hoped as long as me going to college didn't inconvenience her, she'd be happy to write a check if it meant she could continue to ignore me, just like she's done for my High School years.

I stepped out of the taxi I rode to my parents' townhouse in the city and stood at their doorstep unsure of what to do. I silently thanked Fugo for lending me cab money because I had given everything I had to Koichi. I still had a house key since I come back to live with them every summer, but it still felt awkward as if this house wasn't mine. As if it never was mine. I decided to knock first. No answer. I began to sweat as my keys jingled between my shaking fingers. Maybe they're already out. I checked my phone and texted mom, "Are you home? Like I said earlier, I'm stopping by." I waited a few minutes. Nothing. I could see rainclouds drifting in from the west.

I grimaced and slowly opened the front door. The living room looked tidy, just the way it was the last time I was here. "Hello? Mom?" I called. Still no answer. I checked the kitchen and saw a dozen beer bottles littering the kitchen counters. Well, looks like dad's been drinking again. I made a small, disgusted snort. How he's able to function at work is beyond me.

"Whaddar you doing heere?" a voice slurred behind me. My blood ran cold. Dad.

I turned to see my step-father leaning against the kitchen doorway.

"I called and texted mom, but she hasn't been answering her phone," I steadied my voice. Dad's mood while drunk depended on what was currently going on in his life. If he was stressed, he was more likely to be a mean drunk. If everything was going great in life, he could be the life of the party. According to the scowl on his face, he's been having a bad day. I mentally noted since the bottles haven't started migrating to other rooms yet, he most likely started having a bad day only earlier today. I needed to leave, but his large frame blocked my only route out.

"That whore you call mom is still out with her "friends"!" dad made dramatic air quotes and gestured wildly as if he was able to point out her location through the walls. "I swear she's cheating on me. D'you know 'nything about it??" he took a step forward and I stepped back. My foot hit a beer bottle and it rolled into the stove, making a soft clink.