Even Wilder

Wilder

Bing climbed out the back off my car when we pulled up to the lake. He was ready for the little celebration I promised. He even wore black and brushed his hair instead of the usual wild waves on his head.

Violet was still in the car, on her phone. She was trying to explain the situation at home and why she was missing class — trying to arrange her life to suit mine.

Looking at the water made me a bit sick. She never took me to the water. We never went anywhere. I wanted to be happy for my brother, but I was angry. She left me with not even one happy memory.

Bing leaned against the car, staring at the water with me. "We should have brought bread."

I nodded, throwing an arm around his shoulders. "We did."

He grinned, looking up at me. "Are you serious?"

I nodded.

"Well, where is it?" He didn't believe me. I went to the trunk and opened it up pulling out a loaf of bread and an entire picnic basket Violet put together for our moment.

"You packed food?" His grin got even bigger.

"Violet packed food. Sandwiches and chips and stuff." She thought of everything to make the day special for Bing.

"She wasn't always so bad. Sometimes we made forts in the dining room and told ghost stories. We'd even fall asleep under the table." Bing smiled, staring out at the water. "One time, she even roasted marshmallows on the stove for me."

I imagined our mother doing any of that — a genuine look of happiness on her face. Her living life and enjoying the time she spent with her kid—it was too hard to believe.

But I was happy Bing had those moments. Better to have something then to be like me living your life bitter and full of resentment. One day I prayed that I would get over all the bullshit. My heart was heavy and full of pain. And I didn't know how to get rid of that pain.

"Okay. Who wants a sandwich?" Violet said, coming up behind us. She took the picnic basket from me and walked it over to the picnic table by the water.

"I'm hungry," Bing admitted, he sat down next to her. They made it a big ordeal setting up the table and plates and putting out our drinks and silverware. I don't know why she thought we even needed silverware. It just looked like a bunch of sandwiches and chips.

"Wilder, come on," she said, calling me over.

I took the spot across from them and stared at the food on my plate.

"What was your mom's favorite food?" She looked at Bing and took a bite of her sandwich. She was smiling at him as he thought about it.

"I want to say chicken noodle soup," he told her.

I chewed my food bitterly.

I wanted to tell them how stupid it all was. Pound my fist on the table and ask them to stop talking about her. But I didn't. I just kept on chewing my food. And I let Bing have his moment. He needed the moment.

Bing sighed, the smile sliding off of his face. "I can't believe Silas killed her."

The difference between the two of us, I could believe it. It was bound to happen. You couldn't live your life with a bunch of violent assholes always around and expect a good outcome. Those were the facts. It killed her.

He looked up, fighting the tears that were trying to get out. "Nobody can hurt her anymore."

Patience. Hold it together.

I wanted to punch my fist through my sandwich and the picnic table. Bing was young. His life wasn't supposed to be about trying to find the silver lining on the murder of his mother. He was supposed to be chasing girls after school and shooting hoops with his friends.