Billy Carter

Chapter 34: Hallelujah

"So are you just going to bother me all Summer or what?" Jimmy asked. I shrugged by way of answer, sitting on a spare tire with my chin resting in my hand. Not that Jimmy could see from under the Nissan he was working on. It was Sunday, and we were at the mechanic's he worked at. Jimmy was finishing up a job he had to complete before Monday morning, and I'd tagged along to keep him company. I heard a grunt from Jimmy, the clang of metal, and then a small sigh. "You know when he says he's sorry he actually means it. And of course you don't need to worry about anything he said 'cause he was pissed off when he said it. People say a lot of stupid, hurtful shit when they're angry. S'not like you've never done anything like that before." He didn't have to say his name for me to know he was talking about Ollie. I'd told him about what Guy had said, and then how Ollie had admitted to it. Afterwards I went out of my way to avoid Ollie, even though I knew it was childish. I felt like if I hung around him I'd break down, and I didn't want to burst into tears or an anxiety attack in the middle of Annabelle's end-of-school party.
"Yeah, but..."
"But what?"
"But what if he's right?"
"Billy, he's not right."
"Ollie's always right."
"If Ollie's always right then how come he's suddenly not right now that he's told you what he said was a huge pile of shite? If he's always right, then certainly that's right too."
"But what if he was just saying that to make me feel better?"
"For fuck's sake Bill," He rolled out from under the car on the creeper covered in dirt and grease to give me a stern look. "You're being paranoid, alright? You're making up all these problems where there aren't any. He loves you to bits, so just be happy about it. You know, you really complain a lot."
"That's mean."
Jimmy sighed heavily and rolled back under the car.
"What are you doing under there anyroad?" I asked.
"Why do you say that?"
"Huh?"
"Anyroad, instead of anyway. I've never heard anyone else say that."
"I don't know, I've just always said it. I think I overheard someone on the train say it or something when I was really little. I don't know."
"Ok. What was your question again?"
"What are you doing?"
"Oh. I'm replacing the fuel line."
"Why?"
"It needed replacing."
"No, seriously. Teach me."
"Wriggle under here then. You're going to get dirt and oil and grease all over you though," he warned me.
"That's alright, I don't mind."
"Come on then." I knelt beside the car and he wheeled back out from under it. "Lay down on this, it'll be easier," Jimmy told me, getting off the creeper. I lay back on it and scooted under, banging my head on something.
"Ouch!"
"Watch your head."
"Thanks for the warning," I said drily, staring up at the underside of the car.
"If you didn't have such a big head it wouldn't be an issue," Jimmy grunted, wriggling under the car beside me, but on a bit of an angle so we could both fit.
"I do not have a big head, liar."
"See that? That's the fuel line, it takes the petrol from the tank in the back of the car to the motor up the front. This is the old one, can you see the crack in the side? It's tiny." Jimmy gave me about thirty centremetres of an old metal pipe and I turned it over in my hands trying to see in the dim lighting under the car. "Never mind, we'll look at it later. Anyway, so it's been leaking fuel. The owner's too cheap to have the whole line replaced so I've cut out the damaged part and put in this nylon tubing. It's cost-effective, it's fast, and it'll get this piece of Japanese shit car back on the road."
"Not a Nissan fan?"
"Not this specific Nissan. It's a Nissan Murano. Shit car. I bought one second hand a few years ago, figured it was a steal for the price they were asking-" Jimmy stopped and looked thoughtful. "Actually, now I think about it, it might have been a stolen car... Anyway, I needed something to run Belle into school and get the groceries and the police had written off the Honda I'd had before as un-roadworthy, so beggars can't be choosers, and I wanted something safer for the kids anyway. But this fucking car, a Nissan Murano - it's not worth the lint in my arsecrack, let me tell you." I laughed and Jimmy continued on his rant. "Fucking steering was shot. At first I thought the guy who'd sold it to me had fucked me over, but it turned out it was just how the car was made - I looked it up online and there were a whole bunch of angry customer reviews about it. The steering would lock up and it was damn hard to turn corners. Apparently the steering issue had been cleared up in newer models, but I managed to score one of the shitty old ones, and I couldn't really afford to get it fixed because if it was a stolen car then I could have gotten in trouble for it. I only had that car for a year, then I traded it for the Ford I had before my new Skoda."
"That's a nice car, your Skoda."
"Ought to be, damn thing cost me a small fortune."
"My Dad always said you can't put a price on safety."
"Did he?"
"Yeah."
"That's kind of ironic, don't you think?"
I shrugged by way of answer.
"My old man used to tell me, 'Jimmy, if you're gonna insult someone bigger than you, at least make sure you can out run 'em'. He liked to pick a fight when he was drunk, my old man."
"Yeah? With you?" I asked. Jimmy glanced at me.
"Nah, not me - fellow pub goers. Rum makes him over confident."
"Do you still see your parents? Or have anything to do with them?"
"Nope, not really. Last time I saw my mother was a few months ago. After I cashed my big pay check I paid for her to have a hysterectomy - no more unfortunate children are coming out of that tragic piece of shit. She was just as happy about it as I was. I haven't seen her since. I don't plan on it either, not if I can help it. Last time I saw my father we were in court fighting over custody of Ashley."
"How come you won custody over him? I mean, no offence."
"Miracle," Jimmy snorted. "Well we came in pointing out that it wouldn't be fair to her or her siblings to separate them, and putting her with our Father would be just as bad as putting her with a compete stranger, since they hardly know each other. He didn't even recognize her until she took the stand. Then father dearest argued that he has custody over some of our siblings as well."
"Your older brother?"
"And then some."
"What? I thought you only had two older brothers, and you said one of them died, right?"
"Yeah, but apparently - and I didn't know this until it all came undone in court - but apparently my father's even more of an arsehole than I already knew."
"How so?"
"Well, when he was seeing my mother, he was actually already married. So legally my parents were never married. He had his family with his first wife, whoever she was, and had us on the side. All of his 'business trips' where fake, he'd just go home to his first family for a week or two before he had another 'business trip' and would come back to us. This went on for almost twenty years, and no one suspected a thing. I'm almost awed, actually. Anyway, when money got tight - thanks to dad's pony addiction - mum had to go back to prostitution. Dad always told us he was struggling at work because they'd lost a lot of clients, but in actuality he was sending everything he made back home to his first family, so we missed out. Anyway, mum went back to prostitution to make enough money for us but didn't tell dad because she didn't want him to find out, then she got knocked up with Belle. Dad didn't mention to her that after Ashley was born he'd had a vasectomy, so when she tried to pass Belle off as his it quickly backfired. He left, never to return, and went back to his first family. My older brother, Oliver-"
"Hey, you have an Oliver too?"
"Yeah, except mine is my brother, not my boyfriend."
"Fair enough."
"Anyway, so my older brother Oliver - actually his nickname was Ollie too."
"Well there you go, what a small world."
"Something like that. Anyway, Oliver turned eighteen the following year so he bailed on us, and by then mum's heroine addiction was back in full force. Oliver managed to track down our father and he knocked on his door one night, just as all of family number one was sitting down to a beautiful family dinner. Uncles and aunts and grandparents and cousins and nieces and nephews, even, were there. It just so happened to be a family reunion or something. Anyway, here comes my oblivious older brother. He knocks on the door and the wife's brother answers it. Ollie asked for dad, wife's brother tells him he's in the kitchen, and lets him in. Dad's right in the middle of cutting the turkey or some shit when he sees Oliver in his lounge room, surrounded by family number one. In the meantime, Oliver's putting the pieces together. Cue big shouting match between dad and Oliver, and then the other family starts to realise what's happening. Anyway, Oliver ended up staying there for a few months; apparently he debated coming home but eventually he got a job there in Birmingham and moved in with one of our older half-brothers or half-sister or something. Dad got a divorce. His ex-wife won't have anything to do with him, but some of his kids have started to come around. Oliver's settled there now, he's got an apartment and a wife and a kid."
"How much older than you is he?"
"Eight years. He's twenty-eight this year."
"So it's been ten years then."
"Yep."
"Do you have anything to do with him?" I asked.
"Not really. We spoke briefly at the courthouse. Long enough for him to ask where Andy was and for me to tell him he overdosed three or so years ago. I avoided him, he was always with the first lot - my other older siblings, I guess. They kept glaring at me, and it only got worse as dad's lawyer dug up more and more dirt on me. I'm the heroine-addicted whore's son, after all," he said, rolling his eyes.
"What does Ashley think about it all?"
"She's glad she's with me, even if she's got a funny way of showing it. She knows she doesn't belong with them. Ollie got out early, but we were stuck with that poisonous woman for years. You try not to let it get to you, but sooner or later you grow into your environment. Ashley's so used to the way we used to live, she'd be like a fish out of water with that lot. She doesn't know how to navigate rules and live normally. She'd stand out like a sore thumb. She requested in court that she could stay with me, and I'm helping her get settled into a normal life."
"Well. That's good. Isn't it?"
"We'll see. So are you planning on coming out anytime soon?"
"Why? Everyone already knows."
"Not everybody."
"Well everyone who matters knows."
"What about the rest of them?"
"Well... I was actually thinking about that before, and I've decided that if it ever comes up I'm just going to talk about it like everyone already knows."
"What about in the meantime? You gonna start holding Ollie's hand when you walk down the street?"
"Well... I don't want to just dive in. I'll work up to it, slowly."
"Right."
"Speaking of relationships, what's going on with you and Cyn?"
Jimmy sighed heavily. "Nothing. She's a nice girl. She's sweet, and kind, and I love her endless positivity and care. But I've been through a lot and I have kids to look after and adult shit to deal with - she's barely sixteen, she shouldn't need to be worrying about any of that stuff. All she needs to focus on is doing well in school. It's not right - and even if I didn't have kids and all the shady past stuff, it still wouldn't be right. She's too young for me - even if it's only four years, she's just a kid and I'm an adult. It's inappropriate. If she was my age, sure, I'd maybe be more interested, but she's not, so I'm not. Can we get out from under the car now? My back's sore."
"Good idea." I banged my head again wheeling out from underneath the car on the creeper. "Fuck!" I exclaimed at the pain.
"Watch your head."
"Thanks." Jimmy climbed out and got back to his feet as I stood and examined my clothes. Not too grimy, fortunately.
"You ok?"
"Yeah, just clumsy. Can I ask you about something?"
"Sure."
"Why did you come over that day? I mean, perfect timing, really. But why did you come over?" I asked him curiously. He frowned at me for a few seconds before he figured out what I was talking about.
"Oh. I told you, I was coming over to check on you and apologise for sending those guys after Steve."
"Oh. Yeah, I remember," I said quietly, trying not to think about the beating Dad and his brothers gave me as a consequence.
"I really am sorry how that turned out, by the way. I honestly thought it would scare him enough to keep his mitts off of you."
"Well, it's the thought that counts, isn't it?"
"How are you doing? Really? Cynthia told me about your little cry last Thursday, at school."
"Did she?" I asked disinterestedly.
"Yeah. How are you dealing with everything?"
"Fine," I shrugged.
"Do you still want to kill yourself?"
"Not at the moment. Honestly, I just want to run away from everyone and hide."
"Why?"
"They all think I'm crazy. I think I'm starting to believe them."
"Why?"
"I told Mum that I missed Dad, that I want to see him again. I know what he did is wrong, but I can't let go of the hope he can become a good man again."
"I know - I was there, remember? I could see it in your face that you believed - or at least wanted to believe - every word he said about sobering up and never laying a finger on you again. I knew if I let you choose you were going to stay with him. That's why I didn't give you a choice."
"So you think I'm wrong too."
"I didn't say that, Billy." Jimmy grabbed my shoulders and bent over a little bit to look me in the eyes. "I don't think you're wrong, or crazy," he said. "You feel how you feel. This whole world is messed up, and full of messed up people. On a scale of all the crazy people I've known throughout the years, you don't even rank, kid, so stop beating yourself up about it. They don't understand because they didn't go through it, they aren't you. They'll never understand, so don't waste your time trying to make them. As for your step-father, or ex step-father, or whatever - give yourself some time to catch your breath before you throw yourself back in the deep end. I'm not saying you can't forgive him, but don't dismiss the things he's done so easily. Be optimistic, and be wary - if you're really set on keeping him in your life. And you need to be prepared to walk away, too. Some things get broken beyond repair - just make sure that thing isn't you."
I looked away from his intense gaze to blink back tears. "I don't know what I want to do, though," I sniffled. "I hate him and I miss him and I want to help him but I'm terrified of him. I feel like... Like I owe it to him. Mum's family abandoned us, Eddie abandoned us, but Dad was the man who swooped in and protected us, he rescued us and he's always been there for us, he never let us down. He was at every single football game. Every parent-teacher night. He volunteered for school trips, he gave me someone to write a card to on Father's Day and bring to Career Day at Primary school when Mum couldn't come and he helped me put out rum and Jaffa cakes for Santa every Christmas. He loved me and he wanted me as a son, even though I'm not his, even when my real father didn't. He never gave up on me. But there were so many times when he'd yell at me, tell me I was nothing, not even a disappointment, because he'd have to have some degree of expectation of me for me to disappoint him. And he'd hit me. He'd throw things at me, tell me no one could stand me, I was a waste of breath. But he never said he hated me, and he'd turn back into the loving caring father I loved so much in an instant, and it would be like nothing bad had ever happened. And I still don't know what was true and what was false. I can't tell if he loved or loves me, if it was all pretend, just an act to keep me in line. Or if it was real, and he really is sorry, and he just had a very hard time controlling his temper."
"Look, you can't do those things he did to someone you love. You'll understand when you have kids one day. Everything else, all the "good" stuff, was either to manipulate you or your mother, or to put up a front. Alright, I'm done here. I'll go clean up then drop you off at home if you like. I need to get back to the babies, Ashley'll be getting stressed out about now."
"Can you take me to Ollie's? He doesn't live far from you."
"Sure."
"Jim?"
"Yeah?"
"Thanks. You give pretty good advice. You're a good friend."
He gave me a smile before going into a back room to wash his hands and change out of his coveralls. "Just keep your chin up for me."
"I will."