Life Flashes

two years before

Two years before the call, Ben got drunk at a party. That wasn't out of the ordinary. Ben and I were leading separate lives. I skipped school when I got too worried about leaving Mom alone, afraid of what she might do to herself or others. Ben skipped school to smoke outside the 7/11 and to go drinking at the creek with older kids from my grade and because he was too hungover to even open his eyes.

What was different that time was that he called me. Normally, he'd sleep it off at a friend's house. Or sometimes, another friend would ferry him home and deposit him on our porch. I'd have to drag him up to bed and make sure he didn't choke to death on his own vomit.

I was sitting outside our mom's bedroom door, eating chips while watching a movie on my laptop, one earbud out so I could still hear what was happening in her room.

He didn't say anything at first and then: "Nessa!" He only slurred a little bit. I kept watching my movie, only half-listening.

"What do you want, Ben?" I crunched another chip. The actors on my screen looked deep into each other's eyes and I groaned. "Ugh, no! They have literally no chemistry!"

"What's that?"

"I'm obviously not talking to you. What do you want?"

"I'm on Mulgrove, I think, and I'm hella trashed." He laughed and so did everyone around him apparently. I rolled my eyes and ate another chip. What was up with drunk people who felt the need to let you know that they were drunk? "Can you maybe--"

"Wait, shut up," I said. I'd heard a noise in Mom's room. I paused my movie and eased the door open behind me and leaned back into the room cautiously.

I never knew what I would find when I opened Mom's door. Sometimes, she was almost lifeless, silent, ghostly. And other times, she was uncontrollable like her grief was boiling into red hot rage inside her. She'd had a bit of a temper before Grandma Peggy's death, but after? It was a sight to see. Once, I'd come into her room with breakfast just in time to see her bedside lamp whiz through the air and smash against the far wall.

When I peeked in then, it was pretty dark but I could see the shape of my mother curled in bed. She seemed to be asleep but she could've just been lying there, staring at the opposite wall, as her broken heart ate away at her insides.

"Hellooooooo?" I could hear Ben's voice even though the phone wasn't near my ear. "Nessaaaaaaa?" I muttered a few choice curse words and quickly eased the door closed. I snatched up my laptop and chip bag and quietly snuck down the hall so I wouldn't risk disturbing Mom.

"What?" I finally snarled at Ben.

"Nessa! Come get me! Please!" His voice was suddenly loud like he was pressing his mouth against the receiver.

"No," I said, settling down onto the futon with my movie and snacks. "I'm busy. Get one of your dumbass friends to drive you."

"Can't. Everyone's drunk as fuck."

I threw my head back and looked up at the ceiling. I considered making a pro and con list of both situations: leaving Mom to get Ben or leaving Ben to take care of Mom. I don't know what I was more afraid of: Mom hurting herself or Mom leaving the house to track down Dad and fuck him up. There was a reason I was the one Ben called. After Grandma died and after Mom... started acting like that, Dad couldn't take it. Well, I assume that's what happened. I didn't pay enough attention to what happened. All I knew was that he left. Didn't matter his reasons. Most people wanted to know how I felt, what I thought. I didn't. I didn't feel anything about it and I sure as hell didn't think about it.

I could feel myself spiraling into Dad-related thoughts and yanked myself back to the present. And then, for the smallest moment, I considered telling Ben to just get in someone's car, then I shook the thought away. I still can't believe that idea even crossed my mind.

"Call an Uber or something," I told the ceiling. "I don't care. I can't come get you."

"No dice, big sister." Who the fuck says 'no dice'? "No money left."

I grit my teeth. "Then walk."

"Really? You want me to walk? You always told me never to walk home in middle of the night." Ben was slurring more now, voice thick and heavy with alcohol. I could practically smell the fumes through the phone. I had a sudden image of Ben stumbling down the dark streets, tripping into the road, an oncoming car veering away but not fast enough, him crumpled in a bloody mess.

"Okay, fine!" I snapped, trying to ignore the chills that scenario had given me. "What's your address?"

"For suuuureeeee, bro!" Ben crowed. There was yelling and the sound of a cork popping. People started cheering. "We're somewhere on Mulgrove, dude!"

"For Christ's sake," I muttered but I went to get him.

I was gone for longer than I'd wanted to be away from Mom because I couldn't find the party at first. Then I finally located it and had to wade through drunk classmates to actually find my brother. Later, I had to pull over so Ben could splatter his dinner across the sidewalk, which was disgusting. But even when we finally staggered back inside and Ben knocked over one of the dying plants near the front door with a tremendous crash, Mom never got out of bed. Hell, she never even called down to make sure we were okay or to ask where I'd gone at two in the morning. I don't think she even noticed that either one of us was gone. Or maybe she just didn't care.