We All Fall Down

Part 3: The Beginning of The End Chapter 44

New York is loud and colorful. It's fast and busy and all the things that my hometown is not. My classes are interesting and my professors give extra credit if we show up to their open mic nights. When I'm not in class or studying, I'm working and my busy schedule has been my excuse for not returning home. We all agreed to keep in touch, but it became too easy to leave everything behind once we weren't physically around to hold each other accountable. I think about Rose often, more often than I liked to admit. Her parents refused to let me see her, likely still angry that we'd helped her lie to them about where she was going and with whom. I understood, I even respected how protective they were of her. It still stung. I didn't want things to end that way, but I'd always known it couldn't be forever. I wrote her a letter once. I wanted to know that she'd recovered well and didn't hate me, but I got no reply. I told myself that it had been intercepted by her parents, but a small part of me wondered if she did read it and didn't write back because she hated me.

I do hear from Roach from time to time when I call to check on Ben and my dad, who had been on hospice for about a month when I got the call. I'd just walked in from a long shift and slung my backpack onto my unmade bed. My roommate Frank, was sitting at his desk, crouched over a textbook, headphones over his ears. The phone rang and he hadn't even looked up. I picked up the receiver and before I heard his voice, I knew what the call was about.

"John, it's Dad." Ben sighs. His voice has deepened in the months I've been away.

"Is he gone?" I ask, suddenly feeling a pang of guilt. I should have gone home over the holiday break.

"Not yet, but it's probably a good idea to come home," he replied. I thought about how different everything would be if I went back. How Ben would no longer be the scrawny pre-teen I'd left behind. How my father would be even more deteriorated despite his last ditch effort to reclaim his life. Would Becky want to see me? Would it be awkward seeing Roach.  I'm not the same person I was when I left, and everyone else will be just as changed, and it irked me.

"Have you called Mom?" I ask.

"Yeah, she said she would come, but you know how she is." he said. My mother had never returned. She'd apparently met some guy in California and they drove around in a beat up Volkswagen, did drugs and who knows what else. She would call Ben every so often and make empty promises before going another stretch completely forgetting she had a young son and dying husband. Good riddance.

Two days later, I was on a plane headed to a place I didn't even consider home anymore. I arrive at the airport that is virtually empty compared to the overcrowded hustle and bustle of JFK. I stepped out the doors to wait for Ben to pick me up, deeply breathing the fresh air. It's strange to imagine that you don't realize how much you miss something as simple as this, until you have gone without it for so long. Inhaling this different, clean air was refreshing, but overwhelming. I stood on the curb with my suitcase inhaling and exhaling until I saw Ben drive up in our father's car. I watched him step out and was shocked at what I saw. He'd shot up several inches in the last year and is almost taller than I am now. He looked just like Dad, only different. A flood of emotions rushed over me as I threw my body onto him and hugged him so tight I thought might suffocate him. I didn't realize how much I missed my brother until this moment. He pulled back and walked over to a bench, sighing heavily as he lowered himself down.

"What's going on?" I ask moving to sit next to him. Ben looked straight ahead and said something inaudible.

"What's that?" I ask leaning in closer.

"Dad's dead. He passed late last night. I'm sorry John." Ben turned to me and the look on his face was one I'd never seen on him before. A look of helpless release. He had taken on so much of the burden when I left that I think he was morbidly relieved that Dad decided to go.

"I'm sorry too, Ben." I didn't know what else to say. No words could sufficiently cover the gratitude I had for him and no number of apologies to cover the fact that I'd abandoned him and Dad like I had. I'd focused so much on myself and had enjoyed every selfish moment, but that's the thing...it was selfish. I was selfish. And now my dad is gone.

Ben sucked in a deep breath and blew it out over several seconds. "Mom is here," he said. "Got in last night. Guess she cares a little  bit after all."

I kept so many emotions buried away for so long, they all came boiling over. If I hadn't been sitting I would have collapsed. I felt myself fall against my brother as I sobbed into his shoulder. He reached around and held my body as I hunched over uncontrollably bawling for what seemed like an hour. I didn't know how to explain myself. Where did I begin? Would he have understood? I couldn't stay here. I couldn't hold the burden of mom leaving and dad dying. On top of the substantial amount of guilt I felt, I realized I hadn't really known my father. I didn't know how he liked his coffee or how he preferred his eggs. I didn't know if he resented me not calling more often. I didn't know if he was proud of what I'd done for myself. I didn't know anything because I never asked. I was selfish and let my brother be the sole caregiver for our dying father for years. How he could sit here and comfort me, still trying to protect me right now? We sat there holding one another for a while until I looked up and saw a line of agitated people waiting to pick up their loves ones. "We should get going. Who knows what Mom is doing there alone."